~America's PoV~

"What do you think is wrong?" Ontario asked. I shrugged, my gaze never leaving the unconscious Canadian. The girl sighed, not moving from her place on the bedside chair.

"He should've woken up by now, if it were a memory," I muttered. I sat on the edge of the bed Mattie was lying on, running a hand through my hair from the all-too-familiar sight. "I thought this was done. So why? Why is he like this, again?" She shook her head hopelessly, refusing to meet my gaze.

"No clue. Did anything happen while he was with you?" She questioned softly.

"Nothing. I never left him alone long enough for anything else to happen. I didn't want this to happen, so I was always there… Always by his side… And yet, still-"

"None of us could've predicted this. He seemed perfectly fine before. He seemed fine when he fell unconscious, too, at first." Ontario cut me off, for reasons unknown to me. Watching her for a few minutes, I frowned, biting my lip.

"Imma go out for a walk. You'll be fine here, dudette?" I queried, standing up and heading towards the door. Ontario merely grunted in response, her stare not leaving her oldest friend. I blinked sadly, head down as I left the room, eager to get away from the heavy atmosphere. For not the first time in my life, I felt completely and utterly dejected, useless, and hopeless.

"Split up, try to find him," England ordered, his voice nothing more than a harsh whisper as we finally reached a four way hall. "Once you do, get out of here. If you haven't found him in an hour, get out."

"We 'ave gone over zee plan ten thousand times, Angleterre. Nous deux comprends ce qu'on devions faire."

"Yeah, well…" England hesitated. I could see him biting his cheek, then the Brit let out a long groan and glared at France. "Shut up, bloody frog."

"Germany shouldn't be awake for awhile, anyways. I'm pretty sure I hit him hard enough for him to be out cold for a good while." I said hotly, my gaze not travelling away from their locked position down the darkness of hall. England eyed me nervously for a moment, before turning to look at where I was staring at.

"Oh, just stick to the plan, you wanker." He breathed nervously, trying and failing to cover up his worry with a weakly spoken curse. His somber expression and rather dead eyes gave him away. Or his emerald iris' held worry. I couldn't exactly tell which. France and I nodded. Without another word the two of them vanished from my already limited sight, splitting up and leaving me alone in the darkness of the hall.

I frowned in concentration now that I was alone, trying to narrow down that feeling. That instinct inside of me. The same thought that had run through my head so many times lately did so once again.

Hold on Mattie.

We're coming.

Just...

Hold on.

Please.

"Oh, America, America, America… Did you not learn your lesson in New York?" That voice… I haven't heard it in- my thoughts were stopped short when I felt a cold metal press up against my head. My breath caught in my throat, my mind immediately traveling back to the past. "I thought I told you last time we met, if you meddled in my plans any further, I wouldn't hold back on making your life a living abolition."

Abolition… Why can't he just go with the cliché 'living hell'…

"What do you want, ISIS?" I snapped, resisting the urge to whip around and snap the man's neck. I knew what he would do if I tried to make a move. I've seen it happen before, on many, many more occasions than I'd like to admit. The one causing so much pain, so much fear for my country, my people, was right in my hands for the first time in years.

And I was powerless to do anything about it.

I hated this feeling. I hated I hated this feeling.

"Oh, don't you know? I've come about him," I narrowed my eyes, the urge to break his neck growing in me.

"What do you want with my brother?" I growled, "Canada left the war. He isn't part of this anymore."

"Oh, not about the war, silly America. I'm here to tell you something." I felt my heart go stone cold when he said that. His little message was starting to become evident to me before he had even said it. And the idea filled me with rage. "You think that hundred year comatose was natural? After hardly a month of torture? I thought you had more faith in the body of a personification." He said slowly, a sickening smirk dancing across his face. An animalistic growl rose in my throat once I realized which direction the conversation was taking. "No, United States of America. No it was not."

"ISIS, you little-!" He cut me off, making a tsk-tsk noise as he once again prodded the pistol against my skull.

"I truly do suggest you remember your current position. I'd hate to end this game of tag we've been playing together for the past… How long has it been? Almost two decades now, I think. And yet, you're still fighting human nature? I really must hand it to you, you just don't know when to give up."

"Human nature my ass," I growled, "You want nothing other than death, to rule the world." He made that little tsk-tsk sound again. I pulled a grim, tight smile, even though I knew he wouldn't see it. "Why don't you come around, so we can talk face to face? Instead of staying behind me, holding me at gunpoint like the coward you are."

"If it's the coward I am, why would I do anything different than that though? You're always telling people to be themselves, aren't you? You, the almighty hero, who couldn't save the measly lives of his own people." He snickered, making the urge to snap his neck bubble up inside me again. How many times was this going to happen? How many times would he be right under my fingertips, but I was powerless to finally, finally, put a stop to his terror? It's not even like anybody would miss the man. "Besides, I'm no idiot, America. I know for a fact that if I walk around in front of you, it's nothing short of asking to have my neck strung."

"So you do have a brain," I muttered dryly, not in the mood for his bad sense of humour. "Oh well, so much for that plan." ISIS chuckled, the sturdy coldness of the pistol wavering against my hair. But I still didn't move, even after the softened pressure. I didn't dare to.

"Of course I do. You really think just anyone can accomplish the amazing feats I have without common sense? That's just at a bare minimum, of course," He sneered, "I'm saddened, America. Ashamed, even. I thought you understood what you were up against a bit better. I thought I could have a good long time playing with you." The man paused, possibly waiting for a retort. When I gave none, he continued talking. "I saw something in you, United States of America. A fire in your eyes that the others just don't have. An urge to prove yourself to the other nations; that you're not just some idiot to be laughed at."

My jaw clenched, knowing but not wanting to admit that everything he claimed was true. I forced myself to slacken my shoulders, relax my body, calm my mind. I didn't want him to know how much he was getting to me. I couldn't let him know. I wasn't going to let him know. Right when I had managed to convince myself of this, though, he resumed his little speech.

"You and your brother. You feel duty bound to him, because of how invisible he is. You want to become both what you've always dreamed of yourself, and what he rightfully deserves. You want to make him seen, make him noticed. You don't want to be the reason he's forgotten and unimportant among the rest of the world.

"Oh, by the way, how is he doing? I've been wanting to say hi, but I've been a little preoccupied preparing other... Gifts, for the two of you," The other asked, making me - once again - freeze up. Did he know that Mattie collapsed? How... How would that be possible, though? I haven't seen ISIS face to face in several years, nor have I exactly let Mattie out of my sight, so surely there never would've been a chance… "Ah, but there was one time, wasn't there?" The way he answered my thoughts sent a chill down my spine. I never say them out loud, and yet he always seems to be able to read my mind.

It's like I'm a puppet, and he's the one pulling the strings.

He's the one putting words into my mouth.

He's the one controlling me, and I can do nothing but blindly follow his commands.

And I'm stuck there, dancing all over the stage for the little kids who came to watch the show.

I'm stuck there to be laughed at. To be mocked.

"What time? What time could there have possibly been for you to do anything?" I growled. There was that annoying tsk-tsk again. The one he always did when I got tangled up in one of my strings in the middle of the show.

"Remember when you left him with that bear? You thought he'd really be safe with a baby cub? Alone? Right after he's woken up after being poisoned for one hundred years?" I ignored his blatant provocation of admitting he had poisoned my brother, rather focusing on the earlier statement.

"How. How? Kuma's not any normal bear, ISIS. And even then, even with him watching Mattie, how the fuck did you slip into my house without triggering any alarms?"

"Must I really say this again? After what, four, five minutes? You should know by now, America. I'm no normal person. It was easy, really. How I did it? Well, that'll just be up to you to find out." I heard the underlying sarcastic tone in his words, inwardly cursing. Guess he had no plans on telling me what he meant after all.

"Damn, alright then. Guess I'll just have to keep on doing this useless game with you." I sighed, feigning defeat. Before he could add another snarky comment, a voice shouted out from somewhere in the trees.

"Get down!" I didn't question who had yelled. I didn't know if it was even directed towards me. I just did what they wanted, because I've learnt over the years a mystery 'get down' quite often meant 'get down now or you will die'. Not even two seconds after my hand hit the ground I heard a gunshot ring out through the air. Without hesitating, I whirled around, my left leg snapping out in a low sweep.

By the time I had spun around though, the worm was gone.

Vanished.

As if he had never even existed in the first place.

I stood in stunned silence for a moment, still registering what had just transpired.

"Dammit! I hate that man!" With an angry shout I broke my silence, throwing a clenched fist against the wall and managing to leave a decently satisfying crack in the material.

"We all do," Washington muttered, slinging her rifle over her shoulder and walking over to me. Her eyes were a hardened glare, an unbridled rage, at the spot ISIS had stood mere seconds before. "That's kinda why we've spent so long fighting that damn war."

"It's not just…" I closed my eyes wearily, planting my arm against the wall and leaning against it. "That's not why I fight. I just… Hate is the wrong reason to. Hate is such a powerful word, a powerful emotion… I don't want to use it for a reason. I don't want others to go through what we have so often, at his hands. I want a better world."

"We all do, Al," The ravenette murmured, her tone more somber now. More serious. She gently pat my back, still glaring at the spot he had been. "We all do…"

My thoughts traveled back to the way Ontario had looked, hunched over the bed, staring so intently at Mattie's face.

I failed her.

I failed them.

I failed all of them.

I let out a small sigh, my body officially crumpling over into itself from the exhaustion of encountering ISIS and the sudden self-doubt. Washington didn't say anything, just looked at me through her long eyelashes. I felt those violet eyes which were encased in red hair burning into my shoulder, flickering up to look into my own cornflower blue iris'. But I didn't turn to look back at her. I wet my lips, pulling them into a tight, worn-down smile, but other than that, I didn't acknowledge her.

What if…

What if another hundred years go by and he's still like this?

What if… My brother doesn't wake up this time?

Can people even wake up from two comatose's so close together?

So it was official then? My brother was back in a coma? My lover was back in a coma?

With a sigh, the one dream I had before came to mind. 'I don't have a mortal enemy'. Then what should I consider ISIS? If he wasn't my mortal enemy, what was he? I guess it didn't exactly matter anymore, though it still bugged me. What really mattered was that he was here. And he was responsible for everything. And I couldn't do anything to stop him, because I was nothing but a damn puppet on a bundle of string.

You do you, America...

You do you...

And you keep on failing just about every single person you care about…

A/N: Guys. H e l p. e. My brain is overloaded with ideas. . S. I HAVE TOO MANY IN MY HEAD TO FOCUS ON JUST ONE OR TWO. That's why I haven't updated shit in so long. The past few weeks have jumped my Notes number from around 70 to 143. AND COUNTING. I'M STILL TRYING TO CLEAN THIS SHIT OUT OF MY BRAIN.

Moving on... WOW, been awhile since we've had a strictly Al chapter. And… Yep… That happened… In it… BOOM. BET'CHA DIDN'T SEE THAT ONE COMING. HAHA. Y'all thought Germany was the big baddy? XD I feel like I can officially pull the rug out from under you guys without any of you suspecting a thing.

Just wanna say this, though. To be safe. ISIS isn't Muslim. ISIS is a group of people who want to do nothing but make others suffer. I don't associate it/him with the religion or nationality. People who say they're one in the same are nothing short of idiots. Okay? Okay. Just wanted to say that.

And HOPEFULLY you guys can see a difference in my writing style? I've been working on making it more detailed for the past while. Also, working on editing previous chapters, too. Really need to get back to that…

French to English:

Nous deux comprend ce qu'on devions faire: We both understand what we're supposed to do.