Uh...Sequel of Abhor, since people kept asking for it. I truly don't know why though, since...well, I was at least able to amuse myself while writing this.

'flashbacks'

This fic is lacking the strong dialogue that was in Abhor, because really...this the only way it would have went, which is why I stopped where I did in Abhor, so I guess this is kind of like fanservice? Dunno. Enjoy.

Warning: Violence, rape, torture, historical facts altered for my own amusement, blasphemy, used of country names and human names, and possibly a decent amount of grammar mistakes. Please do not flame if you have read this. I get annoyed.

I do not own Hetalia. If I did...it would for sure be NC-17

Hail Holy Queen, Mother of mercy, Our life, our sweetness, and our hope.

A shaky hand slowly moved over the hard wood floor, twitchy fingers were reaching for bloody golden locks. There was a loud sob that turned into a choking noise and soon enough the hand was covering his mouth. The slim male was trying not to throw up, jerking slowly as his stomach kept trying to empty its contents onto the floor.

Emerald eyes were wide with tears, the pupils were lightly shaking; taking the bloody imagine in front of him. 'Nononono, this wasn't happening, this wasn't happening.' There was another choking noise and the body was trembling, shaking and lightly rocking back and forth. The hand over his mouth mouth was muffling his noise as his other hand was scratching on his own stomach, leaving bloody marks on the skin.

Something snapped then, and the blond screamed, he screamed as loud as he could. Both of his hands were holding his head, pulling on his hair as he dug his fingers through the sandy locks. The same green eyes were now not avoiding the gory scene in front of him, and he finally threw up. Soon he was coughing loudly once his mouth was finally able to do something than empty the containment of his stomach.

"This isn't happening, this isn't happening…this isn't happening." Was chanted to himself, like if it was going to make everything right, like if wide, blue eyes were going to start blinking again and the body was going to once again move.

The world came to a stop for England, he didn't move, he didn't say anything, he could only stare.

"When are you going to stop struggling?" Blue eyes smiled down at him as leather gloved hands pushed him down against the floor. A smile was tugging on the corner of the American's lips as he stared down at the blond under him. "It is becoming really annoying. It's been five days, shouldn't you be used to this already." With another smile he let his hand reach for the blond locks, tugging roughly on England's hair before he shoved his face roughly against the floor. He did it once, twice and then a third time. Once the body underneath him seem to go limp he stopped.

America chuckled softly when he saw blood, the other's face was probably bleeding again but he didn't stop what he was doing. Slowly he got to his feet and lifted the body on the ground by pulling roughly on the blond locks. With the rough motion he heard a whimper and only grinned, licking his lips softly.

England coughed up some bloody, adding to the mess on his face from bloody nose. He was dizzy and his head felt like if it was about to tear in half. His body was so sore, it was so sore he could hardly stand on his two feet. In the end he forced his legs to support his weight, the hand on his hair almost tearing the strands from his scalp. "Fucking bastard." He glared through his half lidded eyes and spat some blood on the American's face. Slowly one of his weak hands reached for the hand holding on his hair, holding tightly on it in an attempt to force it to let go of him.

The Brit's clothes were a mess. The once white button up shirt was now dirty and with red spots all over from dried blood, one of his sleeves was torn showing off his shoulder while the hem of the shirt was looking pretty worn out, with dirt and questionable stains all over. His pants were torn on different places and his once neat leather shoes were missing, the pants were hardly hanging from his hips since the button was missing and the zipper wasn't even all the way up.

The American laughed, one of his hands quickly wiping away the blood on his face. The laugh soon turned into a soft snicker as he stared at England, the hand on his hair tightening around the locks before he easily shoved the blond against one of the walls. He grinned; watching as the weak body bounced against the hard wall and made the wall itself shake. "What a gentleman, Arthur." The younger nation laughed more, tilting his head against his shoulder in pure amusement. "I'll have to re-teach you your manners."

Alfred chuckled softly, his eyes trailing down the body that was once again on the floor. Soon blue eyes stared at the bruises that could be seen through the ripped clothing and smiled. He made those bruises, he was the one that was hurting him. It was him, all him! He was the one harming Arthur, he was the one claiming him. Of course it was him, Arthur belonged to him. He was his, just his. With a glint of lust in his eyes he moved towards the other, using his foot to lift the Brit's chin, forcing him to look at him like that.

"How many times have I fucked you so far in the past five days? Mhm?"

England let his eyes slowly look up at the American, his head screaming at him in pain along with the rest of his body. Both of his legs couldn't stop shaking and his brain was begging, begging at him to pass out or anything that would put his body to rest, but he couldn't. He didn't know what the damn American would do if he was to pass out…what would happen then? The older nation shivered at the idea, his green eyes shaking with stress and exhaustion.

Five days without sleeping, five days without eating and hardly drinking any water and the American was not showing any kind of mercy at all. He was acting like a kid that was enjoying this too much, like a surprise party that never seems to end. God, God needed to show mercy on him.

"Probably more than fifteen times." The American smiled, he always smiled, he was always smiling and the smile never seem to disappear. The same smile he would always give, the smile that was fooling everyone. "I couldn't stop the first day, really. I was surprised you didn't pass out." He laughed, gently tapping his toe against the floor, making the Brit's face bounce a little bit against the tip of his shoe with each tap.

"Wanna go at it again?" The same smile.

England seem to snap out of his state then, both of his eyes went wide and before he knew what he was doing, he was standing and running up the stairs. This was his house, he knew his house like the palm of his hand. He could get away. He could get away! With that in mind he kept running, ignoring the American that was quickly following him.

Arthur ignored how both of his legs were trying to give up on him, and how his chest was painfully tightening around his lungs. There was no time to stop to catch his breath or to stretch his legs. No time at all. Running down the hall until he reached the door down the hall, he quickly closed the door behind him and locked it, before using all of his strength to push the cabinet next to him against the door. He ignored the objects that were falling against the floor, the glass breaking and the towels flying everywhere.

The small nation was in his bathroom, yes. Without thinking twice he turned around and reached for the window behind the big, wide bathtub. He quickly use his elbow to break the window, ignoring how some pieces of glass dug against his skin. No time, there was no time to worry about that. The older nation could hear the American yelling at him through the door, screaming and hitting the door, or at least that's what his head was trying to tell him.

England quickly grabbed on the edge of the window, letting out a pain filled noise when the broken pieces of glass dug against his hand this time. He quickly got out of the house through the window, moving over the roof before jumping down and landing on his garden. As soon as his feet touched the ground he was running again, this time grabbing on the wooden fence and jumping over and into the alley behind his house.

Now, now he could catch his breath for a little bit, he couldn't hear Alfred coming. Slowly he turned around and then froze in place.

Alfred grinned at him, his hands holding on the steering wheel in front of him before he slowly flicked a button and his headlights turned on. Staring at the frozen figure a few yards away from him with a grin on his face, slowly he stepped on the gas, making the wheels of his car spin against the road…but he didn't drove in, not at all, he was keeping the car in place with the handbrake. He wanted to enjoy the horrified look on England's face, the way the hope in his eyes was slowly disappearing. It was so delicious.

Arthur did nothing but to stare at the car, not moving, not running. He did nothing. The man's lips twitched, and soon he was laughing, staring at the car and laughing. Tears were slowly falling down from the corner of his eyes as he laughed. Both of his eyes were giving the look of a mad man that had lost everything, his pupils were shrinking and the color in his eyes seem to slowly be draining. The older nation's body was cold, and sweat was slowly building up on his forehead and back, but it was like if ice was running down his body instead of sweat. He could hardly stand, he could hardly do anything. "God...don't leave me."

The wheels spun again then, this time leaving a trail of smoke behind them before the car quickly moved down the alley. Alfred was grinning, he was grinning from ear to ear while his eyes were slightly wide from the excitement. He hit his target. The older nation's lower body hit the front of his car and soon enough he was rolling over the front before crashing against the windshield. America stopped the car then, not wanting the body to roll over the roof and then land on the ground. He didn't want Arthur to die after all, of course not. With a sickening snicker he stared at the body through the windshield before getting out of his car. "You are so cute Arthur." The light blond grinned again, staring at the now unconscious nation.

To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping

His head felt too heavy to even move. So he just continued to lie there, feeling the soft mattress underneath him and the bed sheets on top of him. He was cold. The room was cold. The blond shivered, closing his eyes tightly before slowly opening and then darkness embraced him.

The Brit quickly sat up, moving his hands over his face before twitching when he felt leather on top of his eyes. Quickly running his fingers over the surface, he felt up the blindfold before reaching back to try to pry it off, he couldn't. The leather blindfold had a lock behind it. He quickly tried to slip it off on top of his head then, but the blindfold was tugging against something instead…something on his mouth.

The old nation moved his hands lower then, feeling what was covering his mouth. It was made out of leather as well. Slowly his now shaky fingers touched the surface and for the first time he felt that his jaw was wide and open. He growled, trying to close his mouth but he couldn't. The gag had some kind of plastic inside his mouth, forcing his mouth to stay wide open, and the blindfold and gag were strapped together so he couldn't take them off.

He couldn't see, he couldn't speak but he could at least move, his hands were not tied together so that was at least giving him some kind of relief. Relief that was slowly being washed away when he started to remember what happened before he woke up. The bastard American had run him over with his blasted car. The nation growled softly, and pulled the blankets off of his body before quickly standing up.

How much he regretted doing that, oh how much he regretted standing up and putting weight on his feet. Arthur screamed against the gag, choking softly when the gag prevented him from releasing any air through his mouth. He kept screaming as he fell to the ground, his hands quickly keeping him from falling on his face. Fucking hell! It hurt, both of his legs were hurting and burning, it was so painful he could feel his stomach twisting and trying to force his body to vomit. No,no,no! He couldn't let that happen, no. He was going to choke and drown in his own vomit if he did that. It was enough that he couldn't breathe through his mouth when he was in so much pain.

The nation tried to take the gag off again, yanking on it, twisting it and clawing on it with his nails. But he couldn't, it was tightly secured to his face. 'Come off, come off, please come off' was screamed in his mind over and over, and finally his hand touched something on the front of the gag. It was some kind of hook he probably missed in his desperate state before. The blond tugged the hook and there was a popping noise. The front of the gag came off, and he was able to swallow air through his mouth. He dropped his head against the floor, panting heavily as his body tried to find some kind of peace through all the pain on his lower body. He ignored how the hole in the gag was telling him how the gag was keeping his mouth wide open even after the lid was off. That didn't matter, all he cared about was the sweet air he was able to get through the leathery taste in his mouth.

England was able to calm down after a couple of minutes, he was still laying down on the floor with his head resting against the cold surface but the deep breathing was able to calm down his nerves. Slowly he let one of his hands travel down his body, his fingers letting him know that he was clothed with only one long shirt. At least he wasn't naked, he thought as his hand moved lower to touch his knees and then his legs. There was something there…something that was cold. Metal. It was metal. With a groan he turned his body so he was laying down on his back now, he sat up slowly and ran both of his hands through the metal around his legs…he could feel leather too. Leather around his knees and ankles and bandages all over his legs but not gesso, no, just bandages. Leg bracers, yes, that's what the metal and leather around his legs were. He was wearing leg bracers.

The Brit felt his blood turn into ice. Both of his legs were broken, but instead of proper medical bandages, simple bandages were wrapped around his legs and the leg bracers were keeping his legs in place so he wasn't able to bend them but because of the weak bandages he wasn't able to support himself either. This was for sure going to make his recovery slow.

Arthur quickly turned his head around when he heard a noise coming from behind him. He swallowed heavily and moved his body until he was facing the source of the noise, he was careful not to move his legs much as he did so. The pain was already enough and didn't want to add anymore.

Another noise and the Brit was now fully alert of his surroundings, he couldn't see but he could at least hear well. There was a soft chuckle and the nation shivered. He knew that voice. No, no, no. He shook his head, quickly using his hands to slide his body backwards, his legs being dragged along like dead weight. The nation almost glared at himself from whimpering but he couldn't help himself. Soon his back was rubbing against the soft mattress again and he almost sighed in relief.

"You are finally awake." The cheerful dark voice whispered next to his ear.

Arthur's eyes went wide under the blindfold and he quickly jerked his body away from the source of the voice. Rapidly he pulled back, quickly crawling on the floor and learning thanks to his reflexes that his knees were not broken, just the area below them. There was no pain coming from his knees, but as he dragged the rest of his legs with his crawling, the now useless legs once again brought pain to the rest of his body.

There was shifting on the bed and noises the Brit easily recognized as steps, yes, because soon America was standing next to him, shoving one of his feet on his lower back, forcing his body down against the floor.

"Don't move so much Iggy, your legs are broken." The younger blond chuckled, his blue eyes staring at the nation on the floor. He smiled, removing his foot and circling the other instead. He was pleased, oh so pleased, the other was shaking just by his presence and the scared look on his face earlier almost made him groan in pleasure. "Don't worry, you are in my house now so I can take good care of you! Yes!" He grinned despite the fact that Arthur would not see it, tilting his head a little bit.

England felt like crying again, the moment he heard the fact that he was now in the American's house, he felt his chest tightening and his body shivering in fear. No, please no. A soft noise escaped against the gag, his body lightly squirming as he tried to lift it up again just to have the same foot shove it down against the floor again.

"It's alright, Arthur." The American smiled, and knelt down next to the older male, his hand gently rubbing his lower back. "I'm a nice host, I'll make sure to take care of you." He gave a small nod. "Now should we get started?"

Arthur turned his head at the question, his eyes showing confusion and it seems like the America was able to feel it even through the blindfold because he was laughing. He was laughing and sounding so amused it was sending shivers down the Brit's back.

"I told you didn't I? That I was going to have to re-teach you your manners." The younger nation chuckled, brushing his fingers over Arthur's thighs, gently rubbing the skin there before without even a warning he roughly shoved one of his hands on top of the others legs. The scream that came next made the American suppress a moan, he tilted his head back and licked his lips, his eyes lightly rolling to the back of his head as he seem to get high over the scream. Easily he put more pressure on the area, which earned him another louder scream.

Arthur felt his throat tearing as he scream, his whole body was shaking in pain and goose bumps were crawling on his skin. The older nation, no, man was crawling and digging his fingernails against the floor, not caring when they snapped and broke, he kept clawing, feeling his now bloody fingers running raw against the hard wood floors.

"And you are going to do what I tell you to do, right Arthur? Or do you want more of this?" The American asked as he pushed his hand harder against the others leg.

The Brit didn't think twice, no he didn't. His response was quickly nodded his head, tears slowly slipping down from underneath the blindfold.

"Good, let's get started then."

In this valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious advocate.

"Move faster! Do it faster!" The blue eyed male growled softly, narrowing his eyes as he stared up at the body on top of his. "Move your useless body faster!" he hissed out this time, both of his hand holding tightly on bruised hips that were bouncing back and forth on top of his member. The blond closed his eyes for a second, groaning at the tight heat around his cock and when those perfect hips move faster against his cock he grinned, rubbing his thumbs against the smooth groin of the Arthur's body.

The Brit was riding him, both of his legs were being spread apart by Alfred's body, letting his cock easily slip in and out from the abused hole. Idly he groaned softly, forcing the hips to move even faster on top of his body, while he dug his thumbs into the skin, turning the area soon a purple color. The noises the other nation was making were driving him insane, the whimpers, the hisses, the pain filled moans. It was slowly numbing his senses and the only thing he could think about was burying his length deeper inside of the other.

Arthur tilted his head back as he screamed against the gag. Both of his emerald eyes were wide under the blindfold, shaking while his pupils were slowly shrinking at the pain on his lower body. He was scared of moving faster, his legs were still broken and if he ended up moving too much it was going to become too painful. No, he couldn't do that, he couldn't! Quickly he shook his head, resting his full weight on his knees as he rocked his hips back and forth instead, hopping that the American would like that and there for would stop asking him to move faster. When he heard a moan he mentally sighed in relief, but soon felt disgusted with himself. Instead of stopping this, instead of struggling and instead of fighting he was just finding ways of making the pain on his body lessened.

The disgust was making his stomach twist inside of him, his body now too aware of the member inside of him, filling him and stretching his asshole until it was painful. The way it was stuffing him and spreading his insides apart with each thrust. Each thrust felt like it was filling him more, like if the American was desperately trying to split his body in two. The thoughts made him choke against the gag, and he tilted his head against his shoulder tiredly.

'Stop, stop, stop now. Please, finish quickly, please stop now.' Arthur kept begging Alfred mentally. He needed him to stop. For anything that was precious to the other, he needed to stop.

Alfred didn't stop though, not at all. In fact he got tired of the other rocking his hips against his cock and instead he forced him to move on top of him again, lifting those hips easily before pulling them down with brutal force against his member.

Thine eyes of mercy towards us. And after this, our exile.

Water, it was so cold. He couldn't hear anything but water, the water that was slowly filling in his ears and soon enough his nose. Slowly air bubbles came out from his nose and then his head was pulled back. The Brit quickly breathed heavily through his nose, sucking in as much air as he could before his face was shoved back against the water. Once again the water was filling in his ears and nose before bubbles crawled out and just then was his head pulled back so he could take in as much of his precious air as he could.

"You fucking little bitch!" The American narrowed his eyes dangerously, ignoring when his glasses fell inside the bathtub, and sunk in. He shoved the Brit's face back inside the tub, holding tightly on the blond locks. He was glaring, a dark expression clouding his eyes before he pulled the head back out. He was leaning on top of the blond, his body hips rubbing against the bare ass of the other nation. That wasn't all, the younger nation was buried deep inside the other, fucking him as he kept pushing his face inside the water.

America let out another unhappy noise from his throat as he gave a rough thrust inside the smaller male, his hand now forcing the other to turn his head to face him as much as he could while he was bending over the bath tub. Not like it would matter much, the older nation was still blindfolded "I been so nice to you and then you go and try to run away the moment I leave the door open for five minutes. You filthy fucking bitch." He hissed out his words and shoved the others face back against the water, this time keeping it down there until the bubbles the other was letting out from the lack of breathing were almost gone.

Arthur was holding tightly on the edge of the tub, his hands slipping inside the tub once in a while from how wet the edge was becoming, but he was more worried about breathing and staying alive than anything else right now. He wasn't even able to focus on the pain on his lower body, and how the other was thrusting in different angles to make it as painful as he could for him. No, he couldn't worry about that right now, his lungs were burning from the lack of air, his head was dizzy and at the edge of giving up on him and blacking out. Yes, he wanted to pass out, that would be so great. He wanted to pass out so he could stop feeling like this.

The Brit wanted true darkness to embrace him again, to make his body go limp so he could rest, so he could stop feeling so much pain and so his body could stop feeling the abuse. He needed to pass out. 'Please…' he begged his body to give up, but it wouldn't. Unfortunately he was still conscious, feeling his head being shoved back inside the bathtub and the way the American was abusing his lower body. The thrusting was becoming more violent and he could feel something on his ass and thighs, probably blood. He didn't know. Maybe his body was getting too used to it to notice it as much as he did before.

"Are you going to do it again Arthur?" The younger nation was holding England's head above the water so the other's nose was gently touching the liquid. "Are you!" Slowly, the head he was holding shook from one side to the other, almost like a doll that was being forced to move its head that way. The American smiled then, pulling the other back and sitting on the floor with the older nation on his lap so he wouldn't have to pull out of him. "Good, good." Quickly he buried his face against the oldest' neck, ignoring the bruises there and instead breathing deeply against the skin. "You can't leave me Arthur, you can't, you are mine, remember. You remember right?"

There was a small nod from the older nation and the younger one laughed, hugging the other closer to his body as he moved his hips against the body on top of his. Thrusting in and out of the delicious heat again. "Good. Don't forget it again, don't forget it ever again. You are mine, just mine Arthur…Only mine!"

Arthur just nodded, dropping his head back against Alfred's shoulder.

Show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus. O clement O loving O sweet Virgin Mary.

"What's that? I can't hear it!" America grinned softly and leaned down, resting his ear against England's cheek so he could hear what the blond was whispering.

For the first time in days, or maybe weeks, maybe even months, England was not blindfolded or gagged. He had lost track of how many days he had been stuck in the American's house. Or maybe he never kept track to begin with, how could he when he wasn't able to see anything until today.

"Hail holy queen, mother of mercy…" The older nation was softly whispering, his now dull green eyes staring at the ceiling as he said those words. Both of his hands were holding tightly on the bed sheets underneath him, digging his nails against the fabric as the younger nation forced his hips down against his hard member. It didn't hurt as much as it did at the beginning, now it was a numbing pain that was slowly building up on his hips.

"Are you praying?" The younger nation laughed then, tilting his head back. How amusing! He grinned, his eyes showing nothing but the delight over England's words. He licked his lips, leaning down once again to listen to the other.

"Our life, our sweetness, our hope..." England shakily said the words now that the other was listening to what he was saying, his voice breaking down with each word, almost like if he was scared of continuing.

"Keep going Arthur! Keep going, I want to keep listening." America cheered, burring his face against the others neck, brushing his lips against the soft skin.

"To thee do we cry, poor banished child-" There was a rough thrust then, cutting the Brit off and forcing a small scream down his throat! Why did it felt bigger, why was it so painful again. He shook his head, arching his back in pain before he stared down at what the American was doing. Both of his eyes went wide when he noticed that the American was pushing his fingers inside of his body even though his member was already stretching him to his limits.

"Keep going Arthur! Do it! Do it!" The younger nation was grinning against his neck as he shoved another finger inside of the older blond. Slowly he pushed in his middle finger, then his index finger and finally his ring finger. Soon enough though he snickered, nuzzling his cheek against the soft neck. "Don't stop!"

Arthur knew better by now, and he just swallowed another scream, his hands holding so tight on the bed sheets that the sheets were burning the palm of his hand. "In this v-valley of tears! T-turn then, most gracious advo-" The blond screamed again, his sore throat giving up on him as he started to cough violently. The American's fingers, were now hooking against his insides and pulling, stretching his ass ring even further as he kept his thrusts, violently shoving and pulling back his cock.

"Why are you praying Arthur?" The younger blond giggle, his eyes now staring down at the older nation once again. "You ripped apart the church remember? You Arthur, fucked it over!" There was another giggle and he was soon holding on England's chin, forcing him to look at him. "You broke away from the merciful church, you tore it apart in branches for your own selfish needs." Slowly the American rubbed his tongue over the other's cheeks, licking the tears that were slowly building up. "So, what makes you think the holy mother of heavens is going to listen to you?"

The older nation did nothing but lightly choke, his eyes filling up with tears again as he screamed. Something was breaking inside of him. He felt it tearing apart and drowning him in darkness, pulling him down and forcing his conscious to slowly disappear, what was happening to him? Where was he going? He didn't know what was happening…and he missed when he started to beg the American for more, or when he willingly rode the other, moaning and screaming pleasure before taking the younger nations cock in his mouth, greedy sucking and enjoying when cum filled his mouth. It didn't matter, because he was lost and didn't want to come back.

"Ah! Yes, he is here Francis, whaaaat? No, I didn't know he was missing, I just thought he was visiting!...Oh, you wanna talk to him? Sure! England it's for you…England! England pay attention!"

Azure eyes laughed with delight as they stared down at the blond in between his legs. The smaller male was sucking and licking on the member in front of him. The wet tongue skillfully rubbed against the head before moving along the length, sucking on the skin a couple of times before taking half of the shaft in his mouth. He sucked and licked, bobbing his head up and down to fuck his mouth with the hard length in front of him.

"Arthur…it's for you."

The older blond looked up from what he was doing then, he tilted his head back with a popping noise as his mouth let go of Alfred's cock. Slowly he reached for the phone and put it next to his ear. He didn't stop what he was doing though. In seconds he was licking and rubbing his cheek against the younger blonds' cock. His green eyes were idle and cloudy, a shadow of the brilliant green that they once were.

"Ah! Angleterre! Where have you been! You were making big brother worried…I was nervous after not seeing your face around for a couple of meetings! You would have to thank me, France, for worrying about you! England?..England are you there?"

There was no response for a couple of seconds. England then opened his mouth and slowly tilted his head. "You are confused…I don't know any England." His voice was quiet but firm and he then handed the phone back to America before greedily taking the cock back in his mouth, sucking and fucking his mouth with it once again.

"Ah! France, I think he may be out of it right now! He is slightly drunk…yeah, he is very drunk actually." The blond smiled, staring at the green eyes that were drowning in nothing but lust and emptiness. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of him! Okay…Ok! I'll talk to you in the next meeting." The younger nation hung up then, grinning a bit more before pulling the other up and against himself. "You were so rude to France, Arthur." He snickered, his hands slowly moving down to grope the firm ass that belonged to the man on his lap. "I think you deserve some kind of punishment." With a nod he nuzzle and buried his face against Arthur's neck, breathing deeply to inhale the familiar scent.

"Who is France?"

"Nobody."

Five months, it had only taken the American five months to break the Brit. He had picked the right moment, there had been no official world meetings in those five months. No meetings that would require England to be present.

Five months without seeing England and Francis was getting worried. Usually the blond would even go to the unofficial meetings to keep in touch with everyone but no, he wasn't present in the past two. Things like this wouldn't usually bother the French man, but he had a bad feeling, there was something wrong going on and his last call with Alfred didn't make him feel better.

The French nation sighed softly, running his fingers through his hair. That damn kid just had to always make him worried uh? Mind you he usually wouldn't bother with the other when he went missing because England seem to enjoy disappearing from the world for a couple of months, he was a man that enjoyed solitude once in a while. Still, he needed to see him. Maybe he just needed to grope him a couple of times to get over his bad feelings, yes that was it. It was a perfectly reasonable explanation!

So now, France was standing in front of the American's house, his eyes glancing around the porch with a frown. Really, Alfred needed to take better care of his landscape! Or people may believe that he was a lazy ass that didn't care about his house. Plus, he was being forced to look at this disgusting scenario. With a shiver he rang the doorbell, waiting for the door to open but it never did. He frowned and rang the doorbell again before knocking on the door. "America! I know you are there!"

The nation huffed softly, highly offended over the fact that the American wouldn't open his door to him! Well never mind that, he just rolled his eyes and tried the knob and was surprised when he noticed that the door was actually open. With that, he shrugged and just walked in, closing the door behind him. Maybe Alfred was playing those loud videogames again, really, that kid needed to get a life, there was so many things to do asides from playing video games! When was he going to get a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?

France gave a bored look and walked around the house, noticing that nobody was in the first floor so with that in mind he went up the wide stairs. He let his eyes wander over the pictures on the wall, it was mostly pictures of Alfred and other nations and some humans he was probably close to, not to mention some pictures looked so old they were probably taken when cameras were first invented.

The Frenchman reached the second floor and for some reason he shivered... Kind of frowning, he rubbing the back of his neck feeling a bit nervous now. Maybe he should leave and come back when America was back, after all he was invading his property! Not he hadn't done it before while the other was sleeping, but that was a different story, today America wasn't here.

The blond was just about to turn around and leave when a room called his attention, the door was partly open, and it was the only room with the lights on. Maybe Alfred was home after all. With a chuckle he slapped his self silly. He was in the American's house, there was nothing to be afraid of. With that in mind the nation smiled and moved towards the room, opening the door with a smooth swing before letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Can't you hear the door? Its rude to make guests walk in without per-" The sight cut him off.

Francis' eyes went wide as he took in the scene in front of him. Arthur, England was sitting on the bed facing the door. The younger blond was only wearing a T-shirt that was for sure stained with blood, his hair was messy and bruises were covering most of his body. There was a blindfold around his eyes and a gag in his mouth and in any other situation Francis would have found this somewhat arousing but at the moment his blood was turning cold.

"E-england!" he swallowed heavily and quickly ran inside the room, his hands reaching for the back of the blindfold. When he noticed there was a lock he rubbed his lips together and leaned down, pulling out a switchblade from within his leather boots. The Frenchman easily cut off the leather straps and pulled them off. "Hey! Snap out of it." With nervous hands he reached for England's face, gently rubbing his thumbs against his cheeks before slowly shaking his body by the shoulders.

"It's alright Arthur, I-I'll call someone, just wait here, okay?" He didn't even wait for an answer he quickly walked out of the room, and moved down the hall while pulling out his cell phone. He wanted to keep an eye on the door in case America showed up. The Frenchman quickly looked through his contacts, wondering who the hell to call to begin with! He could always call the police, but that was going to have little effect against Alfred. He was America itself and he was in America right now.

Francis missed how the body inside the room got to his feet though, he missed how the younger nation was walking down the hall and when he opened the closet door next to his room. The Frenchman was too worried trying to think of someone to help them to notice any of this. He missed when England grinned, and reached for a baseball bat that was inside the closet. Of course he knew that bat was there, Alfred had used it on him a couple of times, he broke three of his fingers with it and fucked him with it before too.

It didn't truly matter if Francis was able to notice all of this, because soon enough Arthur was next to him, grinning with his eyes slightly narrowed and lost in a dull green color. "You are not Alfred." That was the last thing the younger male said before picking up the baseball bat with two of his hands and hitting the other on his chest. The force was enough to send the taller male flying back against the floor.

"Who are you?" England tilted his head, his eyes wide and lost as he stared at the other, the baseball bat still tightly being held in his hands. He was moving in a way that was showing that he was in pain but he wouldn't stop moving, blood was running down his thighs from cuts re-opening on his thighs, but he didn't seem to notice them. No, right now his lost green eyes were staring at the Frenchman and he was smiling, grinning even with almost bitter happiness.

Francis groaned in pain and quickly wrapped his arms around his chest. Fuck, he could feel that some of his ribs were probably broken. "England what the fuck!" he hissed in pain, glaring at the other before he stared, his eyes going wide. The look in the other's face, the way he was moving, it was sickening. It was somewhat even making the Frenchman sad, or maybe he was just feeling so bad for seeing the other like this. "It's me! Francis, France! The frog? Come on snap out of it!" he gave a weak smile, ignoring how high pitched his voice seem to be getting in desperation.

"You are confused…I don't know any England."

The same words Francis had heard before and he felt like if a bucket of icy cold water was being dropped on top of his shoulders.

Everything happened too fast, blood was soon splashing the walls and there was screaming, but England didn't stop. He was laughing and lifting up the baseball bat before letting it heavily slam into the body on the floor. Arthur kept doing it, over and over again, ignoring how the bat was soon coated with blood. How his own feet were standing on a puddle of blood and how the body was no longer moving.

The Brit kept going, stopping only when he heard the front door opening. With shaky legs he turned around and moved so he could see how it was from up the stairs. It was Alfred, he was holding on some bags and was now staring at him with a slightly confused look in his eyes, especially because of the blood that was on him. "A-alfred." The older nation smiled, it was a nice smile, a nice smile that didn't seem to belong to the empty, broken emerald eyes that now belonged to Arthur.

"What did you do, Arthur?" Alfred sounded amused, maybe even excited of what he was going to see up the stairs. So with that in mind he set his bag down on the floor before moving up the stairs, his vision was soon able to see some leather boots, and then the rest of the body that was now leaning against the wall in a puddle of blood. "Francis…" The American sighed softly, rubbing the back of his neck, this was going to be such a mess to clean and cover up! If it had been any other person it would had been alright, but Arthur killed another nation. Damn.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" The American frowned, turning around to lightly glare at the Brit that was now shaking. The baseball bat soon hit the ground.

Arthur let out a weak noise down his throat, his legs trembling a little bit as he glanced at the American and then the corpse on the floor. "I-I…D-don't be angry." With a weak smile he moved towards Alfred, both of his arms quickly wrapping around the strong torso. "D-don't be angry, don't be u-upset. He wanted to take me away. I'm yours right? I have to stay here. I was good…so good. I stopped him. I did it for you, you, just you." And slowly he grinned, that crazy grin that seem to so easily spread across his lips now. "I did good."

Alfred tilted his head and stared at Arthur, his eyes slightly wide in shock before he smiled, he smiled from ear to ear and hugged the other, wrapping his arms around his head with a soft laugh. "Yes, you did well. You fucking psychotic whore, you did well." And he laughed again, holding the other's face with both of his hands, making him look up at him before he leaned in to kiss him, crushing his lips heavily against the soft bruised lips. The kiss was short because the American was soon disappearing down the stairs.

Arthur just turned his head, staring down at the corpse once again. Blue eyes were staring back at him, but it wasn't the same blue eyes he was used too, these blue eyes were different. The glint of surprise and worry was still there. Why would this man be worried about him when he was so happy?

Francis, Francis, Francis. Who was Francis? The nation kept smiling, his smile slowly began to shake and it was soon melting away. "F-francis."

'This haircut fits you better!'

'You are more perverted than I am!'

'You are a fake! You are nothing but a punk! A Puuuuunk!"

A shaky hand slowly moved over the hard wood floor, twitchy fingers were reaching for bloody golden locks. There was a loud sob that turned into a choking noise and soon enough the hand was covering his mouth. The slim male was trying not to throw up, jerking slowly as his stomach kept trying to empty its contents onto the floor.

Emerald eyes were wide with tears, the pupils were lightly shaking; taking the bloody image in front of him in. 'Nononono, this wasn't happening, this wasn't happening.' There was another choking noise as his body started trembling, shaking and lightly rocking back and forth. The hand was still covering his mouth, muffling his nose as his other hand was scratching on his own stomach, leaving bloody marks on the skin.

Something snapped then, and the blond screamed, he screamed as loud as he could. Both of his hands were holding his head, pulling on his hair as he dug his fingers through the sandy locks. The same green eyes were not avoiding the gory scene in front of him, and he finally threw up. He coughed loudly once his mouth was finally able to do something than empty the containers of his stomach.

"This isn't happening, this isn't happening…this isn't happening." He kept chanting to himself, like if it was going to make everything right, like if wide, blue eyes were going to start blinking again and the body was going to once again move.

The world came to a stop for England, he didn't move, he didn't say anything he could only stare.

Alfred was back then. He chuckled softly as he stared at England. The corpse in front of them was slowly starting to fade away, Francis was probably going to resurrect any minute now back in France. So now all they needed to do was clean up the bloody mess. The younger blond was amused though, staring down at the male that was crying and sobbing once again. So England was able to remember who Francis was, huh? That meant he still had a lot of work to do with him, it was alright though. He had all the time in the world.

"It's alright Arthur." Slowly he wrapped his arms around the older nation, pulling him back against his body as he cried and shook. "I'll make you forget this too. Don't worry." There was another dark chuckle and soon enough he was covering the blonds' mouth to muffle those sobs while his other hand was covering his eyes to stop him from staring at the corpse that was fading away. "I'll make you forget everything but me."

Pray for us oh holy mother of God.

People were staring at them, no, not people. All of the Nations were glancing at them as they walked down the hall, but the American just waved at them and smiled. Some nations fell for the smile and even sighed in relief while other nations kept staring, their eyes showing some kind of disgusted mixed with disbelief. But America didn't care, not at all. He kept smiling his sunshine smile, as he kept a tight hold on Arthur's wrist. The younger nation was gently tugging him along with him as he kept moving down the hall and soon enough they were inside the meeting room.

America took his seat and made the other nation sit next to him. He leaned in then, to whisper on his ear. "Don't listen to them, don't look at them, they are not here." That was all he said before leaning back against his chair, the grin on his lips growing bigger as he leaned his chin on the palm of his hand, knowing full well that the blond next to him was going to follow his orders.

There was an awkward aura in the room but nobody voiced it out, everyone was too busy trying to pretend like the two were not there or like if the rumors were not true. Everyone except Francis, the older nation was fully and openly glaring at the American, his fists shaking on the table as he tried his best not to glance at England, but once he did he quickly turned his eyes away. Then he closed them tightly before opening them again. Pity was showing in his eyes, pity and hurt.

Alfred just grinned wider at that but his view of Francis was soon blocked by a creamy white trench coat. Slowly he looked up to stare at the owner of the coat and he chuckled.

Russia smiled down at him, his eyes closed as he did so before his violet irises turned from the American to the Brit next to him. "Ah. Rumors are true, da?" Ivan giggled, his joyful eyes showing a hint of sadism as he kept staring at England. The Russian then turned his attention back to America, leaning his hands against the table as he leaned in above him. "So you broke England?" The smile was back, but this time the cruelty in his eyes was showing. There was excitement and curiosity in those violet orbs. The cold nation wanted to know, he wanted to know more, more. Yes. He wanted to know how the bastard nation was finally broken down, how he was finally turned into nothing but dirt.

America kept grinning, his cold eyes easily putting up a fight with Russia's insane look. He snickered and shook his head, licking his lips slowly. "No, England is standing, England is still strong. England is tied to the United States of America. I broke something else." With another smile he gently ran his fingers through Arthur's hair. "I broke Arthur."

Russia stared down at Alfred with slightly wide eyes, just looking surprised for a couple of seconds before he chuckle, soon giggle and then he was laughing. He tilted his head against his own shoulder, his eyes full of amusement as he stared at the two. "Brilliant, da!" He grinned, leaning in a bit closer to the American. "You were always a sick little bastard." The Russian kept smiling and then pulled back. "I'll keep my eye on you two, this is so entertaining." Lazily he turned around and went back to sitting in his chair, but the look in his eyes were now lost, his imagination already building up what had happened in between the two and his own sadistic thoughts were making him smile, smile so much.

America just stretched his arms and closed his eyes, his body leaning back against his chair before he dropped one of his arms around Arthurs' shoulders. "Did you hear that?"

Arthur slowly turned his head and gave the American a confused look. He tilted his head and smiled his broken, insane smile. There had been no one there, it was just him and Alfred, just the two of them. Just them, his Alfred and him. "Heard what?"

"You are so cute Arthur."

That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ. Amen.

Reviews amuse me.

Thanks to husband that fixed a bunch of stuff and helped me with the summary.