Canada slammed his brother against the very wall he was holding England just moments ago.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" he growled at the American.

America's eyes widened. Usually his brother replaced curses with "maple" and only cursing when he was really pissed. He looked away, not really knowing how to answer Canada's question.

"Sheisse, he is gone," said Prussia as he entered England's home.

He came together with Canada, but when the blonde got a hold of America and England bolted, he run after him, to bring back. But he wasn't successful. The Brit was surprisingly fast even when he was pregnant.

"What do you mean he is gone?!" Canada exclaimed.

Prussia looked sheepish, "He turned corner and when I turned too, he was nowhere to be seen…"

Canada started to panic, "We have to find him before…"

"Before what?" came third voice from the door.

France just arrived with Spain and Romano, holding a box.

When France saw America he smiled, "Ah, Amerique, good to see you, we called you, but you weren't picking up. Did you come with Canada?"

He then went to put the box on the table, while the three mentioned looked awkwardly at each other.

"I bought some cake and thought we can have a little get together," France said happily, "Ah, is England here? Maybe he is taking a nap, I will call him…"

And with that he headed towards the stairs.

"No!" called out America and froze.

France looked at him and frowned, "What is it?"

America looked away, but Canada grabbed his collar and shook him, "Tell him!"

"Tell me what?" France asked confused.

"Err… there was a small misunderstanding," America started, but Prussia banged wall beside him.

"Misunderstanding, my ass," the Prussian growled, "When we came in, you were practically molesting him!"

"I wasn't molesting him!" America yelled.

The silence afterwards could be cut with a knife. Nobody moved, they just stared at desperate America.

"I… look, I just… wanted to touch England's belly, but he squirmed around," America tried to explain, "And I guess I panicked. I wanted to him to stop moving before he hurt anyone, but he squirmed more and then Canada came and… and…"

His voice broke.

"England run off," Canada finished calmly.

France blinked in confusion and then his anger rose and was about to slap America, when Romano let out string of curses.

"You did what you motherfucker?" he punched America in stomach so hard, that the blonde doubled over in pain, "Don't ever touch a pregnant woman without her permission!"

Prussia leaned to Spain, "He still has quite temper, doesn't he?"

Spain chuckled nervously, "Most of the time it's just barking, but you don't want to see him truly pissed. Even Turkey runs of with his tail between his legs when he sees angry Romanito."

"Shut up! All of you!" France yelled, "We have to find England!"

Everyone agreed.

France turned to America and in cold voice said: "Leave. I don't want to see you."

America flinched and bolted out of the door.

England was lying on a bench, sobbing. When he was running, his magic soared and transported him far away, as he wished. But now that he finally stopped, he felt confused. Really confused, and scared, and lost and angry. His emotions went haywire and he couldn't help but cry. Well, he could still blame it on hormones later. But right now he didn't care that he was a grown up man crying in public.

Even when he managed to stop the tears, his breath came in short gasps. He tried to sit up, but his whole body broke into shivers. He just wanted to curl on himself.

It seemed that even the weather responded to England's mood. Dark clouds were flying across the sky, slowly cumulating into one big rain cloud.

Little by little small drops of water landed on England. That seemed to have finally broken him out of his stupor.

"I… have to go home," he murmured to himself as he tried to sit up again.

Right then a sharp pain shot through his stomach. He hissed and let himself fall back down. Then the pain came back. England grabbed his stomach and curled into ball.

England let out strangled yelp, and tried to call for someone to help, but by now the rain turned into downpour, effectively drenching him, and there was not a single soul to be seen.

The Brit clawed at the wood of the bench in a useless attempt to distract himself from another cramp attacking his body.

And then someone's hands roughly sat him up. From the sudden movement his vision blurred and he could help but throw up, earning a disgusted yell from the one that manhandled him. He attempted to look at his attacker, but everything was whirlpool of colors and then… darkness.

I quite a bit changed this chapter. It was supposed to be much darker and depression inducing… but then, it is already dark, and what America did, was not that severe, was it?