Ok, I know it's been a crazy amount of time since I first posted this, and I said that I would have chapter two out shortly…which frankly, didn't happen. So, I'm sorry, but it was extremely difficult to keep everyone in character! Especially France and Italy, since they're practically out of character for HetaOni, and it was almost impossible getting their thoughts straight. I honestly hope I didn't butcher them too much.

Interestingly enough, Russia was the easiest for me to get in character…I wonder if that means anything for my mentality? Nah.

Enjoy!

Chapter 2 of Tainted Blackness

France noticed something was bothering England the moment they arrived at the mansion. Once the old building was in sight, England stopped for a moment, only a moment, before walking again with their group of America, Canada, Russia, China, England, and himself. France had known England long enough to notice a sign of hesitation when he saw one, and he was fully prepared to mercilessly tease his rival across the channel, until he caught sight of England's face.

His skin had become pale, more so than usual, to the point that he looked sickly. England's face was devoid of emotion, but France saw his eyes swivel back and forth on the mansion grounds as the group moved closer to the looming building.

Something is really bothering him. Is he expecting an attack to happen? France had been in too many wars with and against England to know all of his little quirks and habits that had developed as the country grew stronger. Subconsciously, France felt for his rapier, which he carried with him to every world meeting. One never knew how rowdy the other countries would be and it was wise to come prepared. (One of England's past queens had felt that her country personification had such a violent temper, that she had forced England to give up his precious sword in fear of him going on a murderous rampage. France had whole heartily agreed with that decision. Unfortunately, England knew how to fight just as well with his fists; France knew this personally.)

"We're here!" America's obnoxious and loud voice alerted everyone and everything within a ten-kilometer radius.

"Mon dieu, America! Must you be so loud?"

"Everyone needs to be able to hear the Hero! Right Iggy?" Silence. France felt a small pang of worry start to rise up in his chest; the last time England had not blown up at America for butchering his name was during the British Blitz from 1940 to 1941, and he was just too exhausted and in too much pain from fighting Germany alone to yell.

England having a bad temper and short fuse was normal! Him not responding meant something was terribly wrong.

"Everyone follow me!" America would never change, would he? His brother was so much easier to get along with.

As America rushed inside, with Russia close behind, (those two would forever compete with each other), France chanced a look at England who was lingering behind everyone.

"I don't like this." Did France hear correctly? Was England openly admitting to something that unnerved him?

How bizarre.

"Ok! I want to explore the first floor! You guys can go explore upstairs!"

"Well, I wish to stay and look around this floor as well, America. China, you will join me, da?"

"No ~aru! I'm exploring upstairs with Opium! At least he's being quiet, aru!" France watched with some amusement as England was almost dragged up the stairs by China. And now England should start fuming about being dragged like a mischievous child.

The worry that France had felt twinges of before were now drumming in his chest. England wasn't reacting. If France didn't know any better, he would say that England was brain dead and was moving solely on muscle memory and guidance.

"I'm coming with you China!" he called as he walked briskly, but still elegantly, after China and England.

"W-wait! What about me?" France stopped, with his foot about to step up the first stair. Had someone just said something?

"France!" Oh, it was Canada. That boy was just so easy to over look.

"Mon dieu, Canada! You need to speak up more. People can barely hear you. What did you say?"

"Um, where should I go?" Canada's fingers were twirling about nervously. France glanced at the two countries that were glaring daggers at one another. Canada followed his gaze and let out a sigh.

"Of course, make sure my brother and Russia don't kill each other or more importantly, destroy the area around them." France patted the younger country's head.

"Thank you. We don't need a war happening inside of this mansion. Just think of the poor décor being demolished!" And France was finally on his way upstairs. As soon as his feet touched the second floor landing, France walked rapidly to where China and England where standing.

"This room has a bad smell, aru." China kept looking between the door and England, whose nervous actions had not gone unnoticed by the much older nation. The island country avatar was staring at the staircase leading back downstairs, face deathly pale and eyes wide.

The other two nations exchanged looks, one spoke of worry for a friend, the other curiosity for what could make the fearsome British Empire so terrified.

France sighed. England was stubborn and proud. He hated asking others for help and never would accept it until he had absolutely no choice. But France knew England despised being a burden on other, which was why he constantly refused assistance, even when he was deathly sick. Deep inside the heart of the cynical and sarcastic nation was a worry for other's well being. France had called it England's Mothering Side, which had earned him many painful bruises and a broken nose.

"I'm going to explore this floor." He said as he started walking away from the bad smelling door. "Will you be going upstairs?"

"Aru! Opium will be coming with me. Where are you going?"

"I'll save this door for last." And with that, France left to go to other side of the hallway. He hoped China would be able to help England. Or at least figure out what was wrong with him.

HetaOni

China watched France leave before turning to England, whose terror had seemingly subsided. But China was left with a burning inferno of curiosity to find this weakness from the nation that won the Opium wars and taken his beloved little brother away from him for a hundred years. It might be mean, but who wouldn't want to have a weapon against someone they do not like?

"You really hate it here, don't you?" Now why had China asked that? It was almost as if he was showing concern…Impossible. The lack of dumplings was getting to him. China started walking towards the staircase, hearing England mumble something as he followed, but he wasn't too bothered to find what he said.

"What was that? I didn't hear you."

"Nothing." Was England's reply as both countries climbed upwards. China frowned. He didn't particularly care for any of the European nations, the whole lot was insanely greedy and annoying, but China couldn't deny the faintest wisps of concern. Which was absolutely stupid! Really, he should be worried for his little brothers and sisters. Especially Japan with the way he kept hanging out with some of the Europeans and America. Oh, how China missed those simple days where he could always here Japan calling him Ge-ge!

"Aru, I wish I was with Japan instead." He sighed wistfully as he walked around the peculiar library.

"Even I would prefer Japan over you." China hadn't realized that he had actually spoken out loud. He briefly wondered if England had felt hurt from his accidental statement – his voice had sure sounded like it! – but then shrugged. China shouldn't, no he wouldn't, care for any of the European countries. It would just be looking for trouble that he couldn't afford to have.

The two countries entered the other room on the third floor. China was surprised at how white the room was.

Does someone clean this room regularly or something? He marveled. He turned to ask his question to England, but felt his voice die in his throat. Why was Opium staring so intently at the piano leg? And what was with all of the blinking?

China heard England mumble something or the other before backing out of room quickly. Much too quickly for just being bothered China noted. Oh well, he could always ask after they had finished exploring.

SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT

"Thank sound…" Opium was definitely worried.

"Is that the sound of America's pistol?" That was strange. America usually didn't randomly shoot…oh but he was with Russia. Never mind then.

"Should we check?" England asked. China shrugged.

"It's probably just Russia, aru. You know how the two get along." China led the way downstairs. It was time to regroup with France.

"Ah, where is he, aru?" China moaned. Getting bored, China walked to the room, which France had decided to leave for last. Maybe he was still in there. As he entered the room and started to look around, China spotted England seemingly walked around something before coming closer to the fireplace. China wanted to know what had England so spooked. He was becoming genuinely worried for the younger nation.

"Is that…is that Japan's clothes?" China quickly reached into the fireplace before pulling back with Japan's torn clothes in hand.

"It's still warm." He murmured. China looked over to England, shock all over his plus four thousand year old face, only to find England staring a t a spot by the door.

Whatever.

If England wanted to be so selfish and self absorbed and not worry about any one else, then China could do the same.

"Let's go downstairs. This is too weird." China stormed out the door, not caring if England noticed how frustrated he was. This mansion was so stupid, aru! First England becomes a jittery rabbit, and now Japan's clothes were in a fireplace when he wasn't supposed to be here yet, if he was coming at all!

It took China nearly two seconds to be pulled from his made up theories and worried thoughts to notice what was happening as he and England made their way downstairs.

"What is that?" In all of his four thousand years of being in existence, China had never seen something so… grotesque. It reminded China of that creature that lived in America's house, except it was somehow much more horrible. It was a mystery; one that China wasn't eager to solve.

"China, let's give them reinforcements!" Of course, how could China forget that he carried a weapon on him at all times? Martial arts couldn't help much against guns…China had tried a few times.

"Aru!" And with that, two more nations joined Russia and Canada in fighting the monster.

HetaOni

Canada was terrified. Not only was he stuck with Russia; he was fighting this, whatever-it-is- thing! And Russia was just swinging his pipe around with an eerie smile, plus Canada was scared Russia would accidently hit him. Actually, if he did hit the Northern American brother, it probably wouldn't be an accident.

"Maple!" he cursed, squeezing Kumo- Kina- Kuro? - his bear, tightly. That's when he felt a burst of energy from the bear in his arms.

"Kumajiro!" There was an explosion erupting from his bear to the monster-thing standing in front of him. Canada blinked in surprise.

Magic? But how?

"Now, how did you do that, Canada?"

"Eeep!" Canada shrieked as Russia turned to look at him, pipe held in a threatening position and his trademark grin ever present on his face.

"We-well, England made me the bear when I was younger, eh. He may have added some magic to the bear." Canada buried his face in his bear's soft fur. Why was Russia so damn creepy? (Not to mention one of the only nations who would actually remember him. When he wasn't being sat on, that is.)

"Da, let's finish this fight then." Russia eagerly started fighting again.

"China, let's give them reinforcements!" Canada almost turned around to see the newcomers. The keyword being almost. But the knowledge of turning his back to the enemy thundered in his mind.

Together, the four nations fought against the monster. Russia's pipe turned out to be a sword, China was using his wok with great skill along with a sword and England was using his magic. Canada thought they were fighting pretty well together.

But a surprise attack from the monster sent all of them crashing into the floor.

"England, why aren't you doing anything useful!" Canada heard China shriek. This statement made Canada frown. England is doing something! He thought spitefully. Stop picking on him because we haven't beaten this thing yet!

England was muttering something about his magic being sealed, but apparently China didn't want to listen. Canada didn't know if Russia or China had noticed the way England's gaze had shifted to an empty spot near the monster, but he certainly noticed the sudden paleness of the island nation and the furious blinking - is he holding back tears? – of his eyes. Had what China said affected England that much? Canada visibly jumped as a loud scream of rage from above them interrupted his musings. I shouldn't have gotten distracted!

HetaOni

Japan was becoming frustrated with this monster. No matter how many times he defeated it, it kept coming back even stronger from the previous fight. Jumping down from the ceiling, he attacked the monster yet again.

Only this time, it took one major hit before the monster ran away. Japan turned to face four surprised nations. Russia, China, Canada, and England who were all sprawled on the floor.

He mentally sighed. More people were trapped within this terror box of a mansion. And they were most likely all useless. Was he the only competent fighter here? Japan thought that some of the other nations would be able to hold their ground, especially the European countries; they were almost constantly in wars.

"Can you get up, England?" The other island nation was closest to him. Although the way England was staring at his outstretched hand like it was a gift from Kami-sama himself was strange.

"Yes. This wasn't the first time you fought the monster, was it Japan?" How had England known? Was his frustration that blatantly obvious? But wait, the group with England had left before his group.

"No, it wasn't. But you were the first ones to arrive here, weren't you?" That's what he remembered anyway. No one rebuked his statement.

"Anyways, I can show you where the others are staying. Follow me." Japan led the group to the room with the fireplace, only to have China freak out about bloodied clothes.

How stupid could some people get? Couldn't China distinguish a tomato stain from blood?

What worried Japan was England. Out of all the nations present, the two had been good friends before World War II. Afterwards, the two reconnected, although it was never as close as before the war. (America didn't exactly approve of their friendship. Although Japan really had no idea why America should have any authority over who made alliances.) Still, Japan cared for him, just like all of his other friends. Yes, he also cared for China, but there was no way that Japan would ever admit it. Ever.

But on the walk over, England never glanced at anyone, not even Japan. His eyes were glazed over, to the point of looking detached which was completely abnormal. England emerald hued eyes were always filled some emotion or the other; most of the time with annoyance and anger, but sometimes happiness and mirth. He looked so lost in thought, Japan wondered how England was able to navigate the sharp turning corridors and narrow staircase, without running into anything.

It's almost like he's been here before, although that is impossible. Shaking his head, Japan tried to focus on rational and logical matters.

"Where is America and France? Weren't they supposed to come with you?" Japan asked as everyone entered the room.

"Well, America ran off somewhere when the monster came." Some unknown country whispered, and Japan had to strain his ears to hear what the America-look-a-like country was saying.

"And Opium and I split up with France on the second floor to explore the third and forth floors. When we came back down, he was gone, aru." China explained. England stayed silent staring at a spot near the door.

"I will go get Italy and Germany and be right back. Unfortunately, Prussia has gone missing when he was keeping guard last night."

"Wait, you've been here for an entire day, eh?" America's brother, -what was his name again? Right, Canada- blushed brightly as everyone's eyes, minus England's swirled to him.

"Da, we left three hours before you, did we not?" Russia began frowning as the situation the nations had landed themselves in turned much more surreal.

"We can talk more when Italy and Germany arrive." Japan said as he headed out of the door.

Canada was still blushing when Japan left. Why did I speak out in front of everyone? It was so embarrassing, not to mention scary when everyone had their attention on him. Maybe being forgotten wasn't such a bad thing.

"Kumalero, protect me." He whispered into his stuffed bear's head. He was sure he was the only one to hear a faint "who" coming from his arms, but Canada ignored it.

It wasn't long before Japan came back with Italy and Germany in tow. Canada being much more observant than his brother (which wasn't saying a lot, really) noticed how Italy stared downward after scanning the room, in what Canada guessed was resignation.

I wonder why Italy feels depressed? Canada wondered. He turned to look at England, who was standing next to him, and was determinedly watching the floor. As Canada gazed longer at his past guardian, he noticed how England would momentarily flicker over to Italy.

Almost like he has something important to tell Italy. Like in a war where a soldier has information for just one person in a crowded room and has to subtly gain his attention to relay the message in a more private setting. Canada banished his train of thought. They weren't in a war (currently), instead they were trapped inside of a creepy mansion with a horrifying monster trying to kill them all.

Canada discreetly pinched himself. Time to focus on the meeting.

"-want to investigate with Canada." England was saying. Canada didn't realize that the group had already started making plans!

"Italy, head up to the piano room." Wait, where was the piano room? And why would England assume Italy knew where it was?

Canada didn't say anything as he followed England up to the third floor.

"So this is the piano room." Canada didn't really like this room; it was much too white for his liking. Even the freaking piano was white!

Maple…what have I gotten myself into?

As Canada neared the piano, he noticed odd coloring on the keys.

"Numbers and colored paint?" he mumbled. Was this supposed to be a clue? Canada thought that the clues would be much less obvious, of course the clue had yet to be solved.

Distantly, he heard England say something about looking in another room, but did not fully register it.

"A numerical code? Are we supposed to press the keys in some order?" Canada became lost in his thoughts, struggling to remember any codes that could be used.

Then the door opened and Canada nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned to see who had entered the room, numbers still shadowing his thoughts.

When the ugly, gray, nightmare-inducing figure entered his vision, Canada felt his blood freeze in fear just like his beloved ice hockey rinks back home. His entire being was petrified by fear, and moving just didn't seem possible.

Dimly, he realized that the monster had blocked his only way to freedom.

I'm going to die. Canada realized. This is the end for me. He would never again taste the sweet heavenly flavor of maple syrup, spend Saturday and Sunday mornings making delicious pancakes, or play hockey ever again, because this monster would eat him.

As the monster stepped closer, Canada gave an inaudible "eep" and closed his eyes.

Pretend you are the….the…the piano! Pretend you are freaking piano!

When it felt like years had passes (really, it was barely passing onto a minute) and he was still alive, Canada opened his eyes to find the room empty. The monster hadn't seen him.

Canada let out a breath he hadn't realized that he was holding, suddenly feeling extremely fatigued.

"Canada?" Oh England was back. And he remembered his name for once. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I think." Canada nearly jumped, yet again, when he saw England's state. Normally, the island nation was pristine, and proper, and slightly aloof from everyone else; unless he was fighting them of course. But now, England's face was slightly puffy and red, from crying?, and he wasn't standing in that impossibly straight-backed stance that England prided on. Rather, his back was hunched over and Canada noticed for the first time how vulnerable England could actually look.

"Are you alright, England?" The maple syrup loving country noticed a small smile make its way to England's face.

"I'm fine, thank you, Canada." Lie.

You are such a liar. Canada thought, but he said nothing to England. Wasn't he a liar as well? Weren't they all?

There was only silence in the room until the others began arriving.

HetaOni

Group by group, everyone exchanged information and reported on what had happened when they all had split.

Russia was annoyed by how slow everyone was being.

Why can't we just keep attacking the monster until it finally perishes, da? Nothing can last forever. He thought. Or break down a wall. I'm sure with everyone's strength, at least one wall should collapse.

He grew more exasperated as he noticed how depressed everyone was. Which was rather stupid, if anyone would ask for his opinion, which Russia knew, no one would. Russia sighed inaudibly and looked around at his current comrades.

Germany was stern as always, and glancing at Italy, which was typical German behavior.

Tick.

Italy himself was behaving strange. Subdued and not clinging to someone or blabbering away about pasta; well, he could see why the German was so worried about his closest friend then. Still, it was odd.

Tick.

England was unusually quiet as well. His whole arrogant, harsh, sarcastic attitude issue was replaced by a silent, almost catatonic England.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Hm, maybe it is almost time for Italy and England to become one with me. Then they don't to act all depressed because there wouldn't be anything for then to be depressed over. Russia mused. England had proven to be pretty reliable in wars. Most of the time, anyways. And he had an excellent naval power and network gathering services. And Russia had always dreamed of conquering the nation that had claimed to be conquered completely only once in its entire history.

And Italy had fertile lands.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Russia growled silently. That horrendous ticking noise was beyond annoying. However, he stubbornly pushed his annoyance to the back of his mind to focus on the last three nations he had not yet observed.

Japan was explaining to everyone what had happened to the group that had fought the monster.

Which is something that Russia wanted to be doing now, not sit around and make plans that had a good chance of not working.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Russia felt a headache start to ebb its way into his brain. His fingers itched to destroy something. Tightening his grip on his pipe-sword, Russia used his ears to track the source of the despised and mysterious ticking noise.

It took him roughly six seconds to find the blasted clock and annihilate it.

It took the other nations about two seconds to stop talking and look in his general direction.

He was stuck watching a useless memory/video clip playing in his head for thirty-two seconds.

When Russia had finally orientated himself, he found Germany, Italy, and Canada blinking and looking confused. England, Japan, and China were staring blankly into space.

Russia noted that it took China and England another twenty-six and twenty-nine seconds respectively to start becoming aware again. Japan started blinking forty-eight seconds after Russia. Everyone looked confused and dazed, well everyone except Italy and England. Italy just looked ready to cry, and England went back to staring at some random spot eyes filled with sadness? Hopelessness? Russia wasn't sure.

And he didn't really care. Russia then noticed how shinny China's hair was in the light of the white room.

His smile grew. Russia had the urge to go and pet the hair. He slowly shuffled forward until China turned to glare at him. Russia stopped moving immediately.

The small, Asian man could be very scary when he wanted to.

HetaOni

Prussia was bored. Completely and utterly bored, which was so not awesome! And to top it off, the awesome him was trapped with the much less awesome America. France he could stand since he was one of his great and awesome friends, but the younger, happy-go-lucky, idiotic nation known as the U.S. of fucking A, was getting on Prussia's nerves.

One, the blonde moron thought he was just as awesome as Prussia, and could never, ever, under any circumstances, happen. No one was as awesome as him. Except maybe Gilbird. And sometimes Austria, but only when the musician-loving freak was annoyed. Which usually happened when Prussia managed to destroy one of his precious music sheets or vandalized Austria's treasured piano. Oh, but Spain was pretty cool when he didn't have that annoying Italian brother hanging off of his arm. And France when he wasn't being perverted. And England when he was being his awesome pirate/punk self, which everyone knew was beneath his gentlemanly front. And Denmark, just because he was awesome to hang out with. I really need to start a physical list. Who else fits on?

"Something's wrong with Iggy!" Prussia was pulled cruelly from his mental list of awesome nations at America's outburst. He definitely had no place on the list of awesome.

"Oui." France nodded. "I have known England a very long time, and I know when he is trying to hide something."

Prussia stared at France. Something wrong with England? The dude who Prussia was going to convince to go out with him and Denmark after this not awesome trip to the mansion was over? The guy who was actually a lot of fun to chill with when wasted?

"That can't be." Prussia surprised himself by speaking out loud.

Two pairs of blue eyes swiveled round to stare at him. Prussia felt his face start to blush from the sudden and unexpected attention, but managed to contain it; he was far too awesome to partake in such a degrading act.

"I mean, even against that monster, England would be able to take care of himself. He fights dirty."

France nodded in agreement. He had been on the receiving end of England's fury and joy in fighting countless of times. Some which were undeserved, in his opinion.

America just blinked, confused.

"Iggy, fight dirty? I've never seen him do that." France and Prussia snorted.

"That's because you've never actually been on the battlefield with him when he's fighting. You're Revolution doesn't count because he wasn't fighting you seriously. That's how you won, America." France leaned his head against the wall of the cage the three nations were stuck in, blinking his sharp blue eyes as his memories brought him back to a rainy day around two hundred and eight-five years ago.

"England disarmed you rather easily, didn't he America?" Prussia looked at the naïve idiot, who looked away, almost ashamed.

"Kesesesese! Look how pathetic you're being, Rica!" Prussia reached to stroke his ever-faithful Gilbird, who was resting on his shoulder, instead of his head for once.

"You thought you had beaten England based on skill and talent, when in fact it was only dumb luck!" America glared murderously at the avatar of East Germany.

"England had been in an awesome amount of wars way before he was a teenager. It's no surprise that he would be a much more awesomer soldier than you."

"Which is why I'm so surprised that he was acting terrified about something in this mansion, before the monster showed up." France interjected, moving back to the original topic before the two got in a fight.

"Well," America piped up, his anger at the Prussian disappearing. "Iggy claims to see faeries. Maybe he's imagining something similar."

France appeared to muse this new thought over. Prussia wondered how badly England had had to be acting to make France worry this much over him.

"Dudes, I hear something!" America's shout brought both nations out of their thoughts to listen.

"Voices!" Prussia bellowed, jumping to his feet.

"And they've come to rescue us!" France cried.

And then Italy locked everyone, besides himself, in the cage and Prussia was still stuck with the obnoxious, absolutely moronic American.

Damnit it all to hell.

HetaOni

France looked closely at England, as the nine nations were stuck together in the dungeon. Honestly, they were in a mansion, not a castle, why was there a dungeon? As his blue eyes raked over England's slightly trembling form, France noticed how much worse he seemed than the last time France had seen England. And that couldn't have been more than twelve hours ago. England was ignoring everyone in favor of staring at one spot of the dungeon, which held nothing but air.

Maybe America was right and England is seeing things. He thought. But what could England be seeing that is causing him such distress?

France wanted to go over to his long time friend/rival and shake him until whatever ailment that was haunting him was said and gone. But the proclaimed country of love knew that England was one of the most stubborn idiots alive, especially when it came to his own health.

How many times had France snuck into England's house in the wee hours of the morning, only to find England still awake and working; prominent bags under his eyes, or finding England passed out on his desk, head laying on a stack of papers he had yet to finish reviewing.

France lightly snorted as he tried to tally the number. He couldn't.

In fact, after the Second World War, Canada had informed him that England had ignored his injuries sustained from the Blitz, the battles, and whatever else that horrid war had contained, until he had accidently reopened a wound when Canada was present. The poor, quiet nation had been forced to call his brother to help hold England down to treat his wounds, several which had gotten infected.

Needless to say, England was not happy when the two younger nations physically restrained him from doing any work. He was far from pleased when France had heard about his stupid actions and had rushed over to yell at England.

It felt like hours later until someone had finally freed them from the prison cell, and then they all gathered around the box that Italy had used to lure everyone inside of the cell in the first place. It would have been pointless to say that France wasn't confused by Italy's confession.

Time travel? Really?

And that note that was on the box was strange…Thank England? For what? All he had been doing this entire time standing awkwardly and staring at empty spots, and occasionally interacting with everyone else.

The more information he got, France decided, the less sense it made. Oh, what he wouldn't give to be back at his house with his ever-loyal Pierre, a tall glass of wine, and favorable company.

France then felt a pang of guilt. If Italy's story were to be true, then he had been the longest away from home, at least mentally speaking.

"I wonder how much time it has actually been then, without all of this time travel craziness."

No one answered him. France huffed a little; it was a legit question! Stupid people, they all were!

"Well, I'm going to go look around." France watched as England left the room, his annoyance at the other nations disappearing as his worry for his island neighbor increased.

England was definitely one of his oldest and closest friends, no matter how much the other tried to deny it. So when he was acting in a way that France had never seen him act before, everything just seemed wrong.

But when faced with a choice to chase after England or to console Italy, who was breaking down, it wasn't that hard of a decision for France.

Italy was his little brother, (well, so was England), and he needed people around him to feel safe. England liked pushing people away, so he probably didn't want any comfort.

So why did he feel so uneasy and guilty as he joined the other nations in giving Italy hugs?

HetaOni

"Why did we leave the room, Romano?" Spain asked as the two nations walked in the hallways. Romano glared at Spain.

"Because I already know about most of the timelines and I told you about them on our way here. There was no need for us to intrude."

"Oh. You're so clever, Romano! Would you like a tomato for your hard work?"

"I'm not a baby, chigi! You stupid asshole!" However harsh the words were (and Spain had gotten used to constant foul mouthed southern Italy over the centuries), Spain could hear no malice in his precious Romano's tone. He reached for one of his many tomatoes that were stuffed in his pockets. Romano snatched it from his hand when Spain had presented it, muttering something about idiotic bastards who always bossed him around. Spain's ever present smile widened and he ruffled Romano's hair happily.

"You did call the other nations, right bastard?" Romano asked as soon as he finished his tomato.

Spain nodded. "Yup. They should be arriving shortly. Austria will call once he arrives."

Romano nodded and the duo turned down another hallway and both came to a stop.

"Is that England?" Romano whispered. The Englishman could be scary when he wanted to and Romano didn't want to be on the receiving end of the Brit's infamous temper.

"What is he doing?" Spain was almost ready to walk over to his once pirate rival and slap him. He was scaring Romano!

England was sitting on the floor of the room that the hallway led to, his knees huddled up as if trying to make himself extremely small and unnoticeable. He was trembling violently, while gazing at a spot on the floor near his feet.

What interested Spain happened after a few minutes of the two Mediterranean countries continued to watch the island nation. Out of nowhere, England had started frantically scooting back as fast as was possible until he hit a bookcase behind him. His eyes had widened, pupils dilating –in fear, horror, a nightmare? – and his breathing became ragged.

The only conclusion that Spain could come up with was that the personification of England was once again seeing things that others could not. To be fair, Spain ever figured out if England had ever stopped seeing those mythical creatures of the old.

"We're forgetting everything we saw Spain. Let's go." Spain wordlessly followed Romano back to the room where everyone else was still listening to the northern Italian speak of the timelines and consoling him frequently.

Not one person had noticed that they had left.

HetaOni

It seemed years later when everyone had found themselves back in Germany's hideaway closet.

Except now, America was practically blind without his glasses, England had rudely informed Italy and everyone else that he had remembered a timeline before storming out and having France chase after him, with Italy close behind.

America was pissed.

Did England realize how quicker the riddles and the finding of items would have been resolved if he had spoken up earlier?

How everyone might have gotten less injured when fighting the monsters, if they had a little bit more knowledge? America didn't even bother listening to his conscious, which was faintly shouting that then he should also blame Italy.

Did England think he was being a hero by keeping silent? America fumed; he was a true hero! And it was only a matter of time before he figured out a way to get out of this creepy place and find the nearest McDonald's.

Seriously, if this monster-dude continually trapped people in its mansion as a game, the least it could have done was have hamburgers!

"I wonder what's wrong with England." A quiet voice said near America. The self-proclaimed hero nearly jumped out of his own skin.

"C-Canada! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Why, thought I was a ghost, America?" Gods, he had forgotten how sarcastic his boarder country and brother could be.

"Of course not!" America laughed his awesome hero laugh. Canada rolled his eyes.

"Well, what do you think?" What was he talking about, again?

"About what?" Canada looked ready to bash America's head in with a hockey stick. America chuckled nervously. Canada was so scary…

"A-about England, right?" As soon as Canada nodded, America was back to normal.

"Well, I think he's being his old, stupid, un-heroic, not awesome self! Really, how could he never have mentioned anything? Does he not realize how much easier things would have been?" America knew he was ranting, and that all of the remaining countries were staring at him, but he didn't care!

All those memories where England died the most of out of anyone, it was traumatizing. England never considered his own safety before anyone else's.

It was aggravating to say the least.

America was supposed to be the hero; he was the one who would sacrifice everything in the end.

Not England.

"I'm giving him a piece of my mind when he gets back." America muttered. Canada looked quizzically at him and America felt a need to justify himself.

"In the previous timelines, England died the most because he would over use his magic protecting everyone." He whispered. However, it seemed speaking quietly was fruitless since all of the other nations appeared to be transfixed on his words.

"I just figured after Italy mentioned the timelines and since he knew at least some things of how a timeline would go, England could have warned us more efficiently about everything and there would have been a less risk of him dying." No one responded to his speech.

The silence was broken by the door opening and Italy slipping inside to head straight for Germany and envelope him in a hug.

Germany hesitantly wrapped his arms around the older nation, and started rubbing circle on his back. Emotions were not his forte and it showed in Germany's face that he was unsure if what he was doing was helping. America could hear Italy was trying not to cry.

"I'm despicable, Germany. England was suffering also and no one was there for him." Germany stayed silent, (most likely because he didn't know what to say, America thought) and Italy continued to mutter with his face firmly pressed on Germany's chest.

Then the door opened again and England entered the room with France behind him.

"ENGLAND!" America felt his rant welling up. It didn't die, even when he saw England's red and puffy eyes; a clear sign that he had been sobbing.

Why should he cry? America thought sullenly as he tried to jump to jump on England, desperate to hold onto his anger as long as possible. His anger made him powerful; people listened when he was angry. He's not the one who saw multiple timelines of him dying first out of everyone most of the time!

He was shocked into silence when England had asked him if he, the United States of America, would have believed him.

What a completely preposterous question! Of course America would have believed England! He always did!

Except about those damn magical creatures he was always going on about. But that's because everyone knew they were just make-believe, just fantasies!

America had told some people about his worries for the older nation's mental health and they had said that they could help.

And America had believed those fucking bastards. His rage grew as he, and everyone else in the room, listened in shock to England's hurried description of what happened a few years ago.

"Who authorized that experiment?" America's voice was hoarse, struggling to keep his anger in check. It would not be a good idea to destroy the one sanctuary they had in the mansion.

"I don't remember, it was a few years back." America didn't believe England. But now was not the time to argue, and his non-belief in England had created a problem; another problem creating itself would be asking those monsters to paint the targets on their backs. United we stand, divided we fall.

It was time to get out of this god-forsaken mansion.

HetaOni

Italy felt terribly guilty. What he had overheard England telling France had shaken him.

He knew the knowledge of the previous timelines was a terrible burden alone; to remember that every single person you were fighting with had died already, and some in gruesome ways, it was terrible. Italy never could last long withholding the information from everyone. This timeline had been his longest period. Except that I wasn't the only one who remembered. He thought bitterly. I wonder if England had remembered that one timeline, the one I died in, every time I started over and never got a chance to tell anyone.

But this, Italy had not realized that England would be seeing horrific images as well as recall the past. Haunting images of dead friends who whisper cruel blames in his ears; Italy couldn't imagine the trauma England had to be going to.

How in the world did you stay sane for so long, England?

The sad thing was, Italy decided as hurried up with his comrades to annihilate, hopefully, the last of the monsters, that England may not have been sane at all. Italy hadn't really been paying attention to the island nation, he was more concerned about making sure everyone stayed alive and didn't die again, but he remembered how quiet England had been, and how distracted he seemed. Why didn't I say anything sooner?

"Italy, come on!" Germany called, and Italy rushed to catch up to everyone. Hopefully, this monster that everyone was going down to the apex to destroy would be the final one and they could get the key and leave forever, only coming back to see the mansion burn to the ground so no one else could be caught in the monsters' sick games.

As they marched down the stairs and through the hallways, Italy watched from the corner of his eye how England would flinch before every corner.

How bad are these images that England sees? Italy wondered, if the personification of the former great British Empire is visibly showing weakness?

From what Italy remembered of England and from stories about the nation, England loathed showing any weakness. Well, considering who his brothers were, it was understandable. Italy shuddered.

England's family was so scary! Wah!

Italy hadn't realized that he had stopped, nor did he comprehend that the others had stopped because of him. So when he finally looked around and noticed the others staring at him, he panicked.

"Wahhhh!" he cried. "I'm so sorry! I was spacing out and then I stared thinking and then-"

"Italy, dude! I do that all the time!" America slapped his hand on Italy's back and started to laugh. To Italy's surprise, so did he. When was the last time he had actually laughed? It was difficult to remember.

A pair of arms snaked around his shoulders, pulling Italy into a brief hug. Italy turned to see who had hugged him, and came face to face with a blushing England, who was pulling away.

"You looked like you needed a hug." He muttered, blush growing fiercer. "Don't get any ideas, though! I don't really like hugs."

Italy was glad England had hugged him; it wasn't often the island nation showed affection to others, in public at least. And the fact that England had taken the initiative to consol someone meant that he was getting better! Right? He did look more relaxed than before.

"No way, Iggy! You love giving out hugs to little kids!" America pulled both Italy and England into a hug, while also somehow managing to rope Japan and Germany into the hug at the same time.

"Group hug, guys!"

"Get off me, you git!"

"A-America-kun! This is not the time or place! Now take responsibility!"

"Vee! Isn't this great, Germany?"

"Why don't you have this enthusiasm for training, Italy?" The group broke their hug, and even though three out of the five were blushing and complaining about the indecency of hugging in public (or about Italy), everyone was smiling slightly.

And Italy knew, he could feel it, that they were going to escape this time.

Nothing was going to stop them.

The group walked into the final room, where the monster was waiting for them.

It didn't take long for Italy to feel the energy rising up in England as he prepared to use the first spell of the battle. Italy readied his Bible to prepare for the healing spells and saw everyone pulling out their weapons and shifting to battle stances.

There was a flash of green light and a whoosh and then a battle cry from the monster as it decided to start attacking the person closest to it, which ended up being Japan. Italy saw America's glasses fly towards England's outstretched hand.

"America, your glasses!" England managed to hand the glasses over to Italy, while chanting another for another spell, and Italy then ran to America with his glasses, which were miraculously not broken.

"Thanks, Iggy! Italy!" America shouted as he reloaded his pistols.

"Keep firing, America!" Germany yelled from near the monster, his whip never missing its target.

Italy lost track of everything after a while. He was aware that he was running around healing everyone, but that was all he could recall.

So when the monster finally collapsed, Italy couldn't believe it. Was this really the last monster? Was it truly all over?

Italy wanted to fall to the ground and just cry in relief. Please let it be all over. Just as his knees started to buckle, Italy heard England scream.

No, scream wasn't the right word for the high-pitched, terror-filled screeching emitting from England's voice box.

Italy ran as fast as he could to England, who was now trying to claw out his eyes.

"Stop, England!" Italy was panicking; he didn't know what to do!

"Stop his hands, Italy-kun!" Japan shouted over the screams. The pain filled sound was terrifying, and Japan, Germany, and America were frozen to the spot; wanting to help Italy with England, but fearful that they could cause more damage.

"England, keep your hands away from your eyes!" Italy tried grabbing onto England's wrists, but the other nation was much stronger and easily broke out of his grip.

"No!"

To Italy's horror, England had managed to claw deep enough in his right eye that it started bleeding heavily.

He immediately started healing it. Italy dimly noticed when England had stopped screaming, but he didn't stop reciting his healing spells until he felt a weak grasp on his wrist.

"I-Italy?" England's voice was raspy and Italy wondered how much damage had been done to his throat from the screaming fit.

"Oh, England." Italy pulled the other nation into a hug, finally starting to cry. England was silent and unresponsive.

"You clawed out your eye! Well, from what I can tell, just the nerves in your eye, but you also almost took out your eye in the process." Italy was blabbering while crying, but he didn't care. A quick glance around the room showed that everyone had arrived because of England's scream and that France was heading towards the spot where he and England were crouching.

"I don't know how well my spell works on nerves, and I won't be able to tell how bad the damage is-"

"Italy," England squeezed his hand and Italy immediately quieted. "Thank you, and I'm sorry, Ita-!" And then Italy was flying through the air, away from England, and out of reach from the new monster that had just appeared from behind Italy. Italy saw how one claw of the monster managed to slice England's left eye and down his face, while the palm of the other hand pushed down on the top of England's head. Down with great force, face first into the floor.

For Italy, the sickening crack of England's skull smashing into the concrete floor seemed impossibly loud. He could barely hear the sounds of the others yelling and gunshots flying as he somehow managed to grab England and move him away from the monster without being spotted.

Italy once again started healing England using the power of his Bible.

HetaOni

France felt his heart physically stop for the first time when he heard England scream.

It stopped for a second time when England's head smashed against the floor. France had been close enough to hear the sickening crack that resounded from skull meeting ground.

"England! England!" Italy was bawling in near hysterics while frantically healing England. But France could see that Italy was exhausted and his magic was not responding as well as before.

"Who do you think you are, arschloch?" Prussia was yelling as he fought with Japan's extra weapon.

Spain had even found the extra strength to pick up his axe again, chuckling darkly as he swung his weapon expertly at the monster.

"You tried to hurt little Ita-chan? Now see what happens to you, bastardo!"

Russia laughed as he happily hit the monster with his pipe-sword.

"You are very good fighter, Spain. Perhaps you would become one with me and fight for me, da?"

Spain's smile widened as he continued to hack away at the monster.

"I used to be a conquistador, Russia. I don't like giving up what's mine."

"Kolkolkol." The large nation's eyes gleamed at the prospect of a new challenge.

France ignored all that was happening around him, and instead hurried over to where Italy had managed to drag England. As he came closer, France noticed how sweaty Italy's brow was, and how much he was swaying from exertion.

"Italy, that's enough." France placed one of his delicate looking hands on Italy's shoulder. "You're going to work yourself to death, and that's the last thing anyone wants."

"But he's not completely healed yet. I still have to close the cuts and-"

"Veneziano Italy!" France interrupted. "England can heal normally from cuts. There is no need to make him look as gorgeous as I with your magic, when we both know that you are much too tired to heal anymore. Now, rest and let the others finish the battle."

Italy smiled a bit and fell back against the wall that was behind him, England's head resting in his lap, eyes closed and face bloody, but still alive.

France sat down next to Italy, and reached to move England's body onto his. Italy eagerly helped, knowing that his former big brother needed to physically hold the nation who he had so much history with. France smiled and ruffled Italy's hair.

"Thank you, Italy." Italy wrapped his trembling arms around France in a hug. France wanted to frown at how exhausted Italy actually looked.

"Italy, why don't you go over to Germany? He doesn't appear to be fighting, right now and the others seem to have the monster under control."

"Are you sure? I could stay here and try to heal England some more or something." Ah, Italy's kind nature and personality; why couldn't more people have a disposition like Italy's? The world would be a much better place.

"Go, Italy. This lazy delinquent will be just fine." France started running his fingers through England's hair as Italy scampered off to where Germany was watching the other's pummel the monster physically into the ground.

Italy is just too cute. France thought as continued to stroke England's hair.

"Pirate." A hoarse voice almost made France jump out of his skin. Rapidly, he looked down and saw England's vacant emerald eyes staring back up at him.

"Mon cher!" France helped England sit up against his chest and squeezed him as hard as he could without suffocating England.

"Let go of me, frog!" England starting coughing violently and France quickly loosened his hug to pat England on the back.

"What did you say, mon petit lapin? When you first woke up?" France asked as soon as England ceased his coughing fit.

England was gasping heavily, trying to get air back into his oxygen deprived lungs.

"I-I said…pirate. Not delinquent." France couldn't help it; he started to laugh.

"Of course, you were a pirate, England. My mistake." He said in between chuckles.

"Oi, shut up, you wanker."

"Yes, yes, my pirate king." England slowly raised his arm and elbowed France lightly in the chest.

"Well, I guess this would be the proper time to ask how you are feeling." France rubbed the spot where England had elbowed him, as best he could with England sitting on his lap.

"My head hurts, I can't see, and I believe if I were try and stand right now, I would just collapse back to the floor. So I feel perfectly fine." England all but growled at France.

"Well, if your sarcastic wit is back, I guess we can expect you to make a full recovery." France rubbed the top of England's head playfully and England responded with a childish stick-out-the-tongue tactic.

After watching the others continue to brutally smash their opponent all over the place in silence, France felt, more than heard, England take a deep breathe to ask a question.

"France?"

"Hmm?"

"How are the others?" France fought back a curse. It had slipped his mind that England couldn't see the others fight; he had just been listening to the crashes and yells, not specifically knowing who was winning or not.

"They are all fine. Everyone is just toying with this last monster now, and taking their frustrations out on it. I don't think I've ever seen anything so mutilated in my life."

"Oh, that's good."

An explosion blocked out whatever else England might have wanted to say.

"Go Canada! Blow that bastard out of here!" Prussia shouted, his clothes ripped and covered in scratches, but Japan's sword unharmed, (much to Prussia's happiness).

France looked over to see Canada bury his head in his bear, yet again (France really should have brought up his self confidence when Canada was a colony under him), blushing, but looking proud of himself.

"Aiyah! It has a necklace on a chain around its neck!" China pointed from his spot near the monster's corpse.

"What does it say?" Several voices shouted at once; France was one of them.

"It says front door." Japan called, using his katana to break the chain from around the monster's neck and pick up the key.

All at once there was a great cheer from the nations; many of them hugging those next to them.

France felt England frantically grasp at his hands.

"It's done, France? We can finally get out of here?" France stood up awkwardly, still gripping onto England to help him stand.

"It's done, mon cher." Once England was steady on his feet, France pulled him into a hug. "We're getting out, and you will be coming to my house until you are healed."

"I don't need to stay at your place, frog. My house is just fine!" Despite his harsh words, England did not let go of his grip on France's shoulders.

"I'm not giving you an option in this decision, England." Relishing in the fact that England couldn't see what he was planning, France quickly leaned forward and gave England a peck on his lips.

The sudden jolt from the island nation and the furious blush growing on his cheeks amused France. Honestly, how long had England known France and his antics?

"Hey! France, England! Let's get going!" America called, noticing England was awake and standing.

Japan gave the key to Italy, who was leading the crowd of twelve countries to the front door in a daze, with Germany at his side.

France and England brought up the rear of the group, walking slower than the rest because England wanted to walk on his own.

He didn't seem to mind holding France's hand as he walked, though.

HetaOni

It took England six weeks before France allowed him to go to his own house in London. Not to say that England had not enjoyed his stay with France, but he would never admit it to the frog. His eyesight had returned after about two and a half weeks, but England decided to stay a bit longer in France for the company before deciding enough was enough and it was time for him to head home to London.

England smiled softly as he remembered the giant group hug everyone had partaken in as soon as everyone exited the mansion.

There was no distinction between continents or nationalities, everyone just stood and hugged together as one.

"Marukaite Chikyuu." England whispered as he pressed his face against the train's window.

Draw a circle, that's the Earth.

England had to admit, that although the experience was terrifying, it certainly brought the nations closer together, not even England could deny it.

The train finally pulled into the station at the heart of London, and England felt a wave of relief at seeing his capital city.

I have been away from home for far too long. He decided, as he walked towards a taxi from the station in the rain.

Yes, France had been wonderful (both the country itself and the personification) but nothing was better than being home. England was glad he had managed to convince France to let him go alone, under the orders of calling or texting him when England reached home.

Stupid prat. There's no need for him to treat me like porcelain!

After paying the cab driver, England eagerly pulled out his house keys; it felt like years since he was last home.

Opening his door, England smiled as he noticed that his fairy friends had kept his house clean for him.

That was nice of them. England thought, heading towards the kitchen. He would call France after making a nice cup of proper British tea, not the crappy stuff they called tea in France.

England was humming softly to himself as he opened the door to the kitchen and felt around for the light switch.

"England."

England jumped. He could have sworn he heard something…

"England, why?"

England slowly turned around, dreading at what he would see if it wasn't his imagination, yet unable to run away.

Blonde hair matted in blood, blue shirt torn and torso mauled by gashes, the hand outstretched missing three fingers and covered in dried blood, the right eye an empty bloody socket and the blue left eye haunted with grief and sorrow.

"Why did you let me die, England?"

England screamed as the rain came down harder over the city of London.

End.

Well, just so you know, I had the last scene stuck in my freaking mind since I first started writing this. Do you know how difficult it is to focus on perspectives of other people when this one bloody scene is all I can think of?

Of course you know, it happens to everyone.

Anyways, I'm sorry that this took so freaking long to write…. that definitely was not my intention. But, life and etc…. you get the picture.

So, please review and tell me how in character I got in this chapter…well, as in character in HetaOni as they can be, of course. (Bloody nightmare, I'll let you know.) Or send me constructive criticism! You know, how bad my grammar was, how you hated the ending, how is stupid fan fiction. net is by not allowing line breaks, and what not, things like that.

Oh, and the whole Prussia being buddies with England, it's the Fail Brothers Trio with Prussia, Denmark, and England that inspired it. Plus I think the fact that Prussia like alcohol, England likes alcohol = instant drinking buddies! (Even though England is a lightweight!)

Alright, this has gone on long enough…See you all some other time, and I hope you enjoyed!