Prolong

Russia stood in the corner of the meeting room, the meeting had just ended for lunch. He was the only one in the room now and America had left his large morning soda behind. With quick silent footsteps he made his way to the cup with a vile of poison in his left hand. He popped open the lid and poured the colorless and odorless toxin into the carbohydrate drink. He watched as the drink fizzed and then settled leaving no trace of any added ingredients.

A smile crept on his face, "This should keep America away for some time."

His head snapped toward the door he could hear heavy foot steps making their way to the conference room.

"I'll be back soon Canada, just wait for a minute I forgot my drink."

Russia rushed back over to his briefcase and began to place papers in it, trying to look innocent. America walked into the room with a laugh, he stopped short however when he saw Russia.

"What are you doing here?" America asked, blue eyes lit with suspicion.

"Getting my papers, before I leave for lunch. I am not forgetful like some people." Russia waved a hand to the cardboard cup and then clicked his briefcase shut.

He walked out of the room, feeling America's weary eyes on him until the door closed. Russia left the hall way feeling accomplished and like someone was watching him from the corner or the hall.

America turned to his drink shaking off the suspicion that had filled him mind. He reached it and shook the container, hearing a hissing sound from within. The liquid was low so he shrugged, popped off the top and chugged it down. America made a face, it tasted flat which was strange because it was a special soda that Tony made to make sure it never became flat. America turned around ready to go to lunch with his favorite brother Canada, when everything began to swim in front of his eyes. Then darkness took over.

America heard a thump and quickly opened his eyes to see…..He's body sprawled on the floor?!

"What the hell?!" He shouted as he heard Canada call from outside the door, "Al, are you coming?"

"America?" A sweet voice that he hadn't heard in centuries called from behind him.

America turned around, blue eyes widened. He's mouth opened and he whispered in shock.

"Mom?"

Native America stood in all her brown clothed glory in front of a white light. Her warm brown eyes welcomed her son, dark hair was braided and falling over her shoulder.

"Mom, what's going on? Why am I on the floor?"

She looked at him with pity, she knew what was to come for the nations and her poor babies. "You're in a coma and having an out-of-body experience. I'm to lead you to where all nations that are now history are for a little while until your called back."

Blue eyes looked at her in confusion. "How'd I get into a coma?"

"Russia, poisoned your drink."

"That-!" America started but stopped looking at Native America. He couldn't cuss in front of a lady and especially not in front of his mom.

She smiled at him kindly and held out her hand. "Come with me."

He took her hand and started to walk to the light. She turned her had to the young man walking beside her and said, "One warning through. When you wake up, you won't remember until it's too late."

Blond eyebrows furrowed, America would have asked what she meant however he was distracted by the last sound he would hear. The door creaked open and Canada came in, the last sound America heard was Canada screaming in anguish, "AMERICA!"

Everything went white as mother and son stepped through the portal. Leaving Canada in his grief and the other nations to rush in to see the tragedy before them.

"W-what happened?" England asked, swallowing, green eyes jumping from Canada's kneeling form to America's immobile form.

"I-I don't know. We were going to lunch, he was taking too long so I came in to check and…" Canada trailed off eyes darkening he snapped his head toward Russia, jumping up he shouted, "RUSSIA!"

"Da?" Russia said pleasantly watching the chaos around him, some how this was sweeter then he ever imagined.

"What did you do?" Canada hissed he felt something rising within him.

"I don't know what you mean comrade." Russia said with a fake hurt voice, noticing China was kneeling next to America.

"You were the last person in here with America and now he's….he's…" Canada waved his hand to America's knocked out being.

"Dead." China whispered in a horrified voice, all the nations heard him. Canada's arm dropped and the fight went out of him, Russia looked taken aback he was not expecting that.

It was conformed America was dead there was no pulse to be found, all the counties had been informed and a funeral was held. They all gathered around for their fallen number. No one was smiling, some were crying others tried to look indifferent but you could see their worry what would become of them now that the world's super power was gone. Any joy a country could feel was squashed violently, they needed America's help and this would only hurt all of them if the influential country fell. Slowly the mourning walked away.

Belarus was walking beside her sister who was crying heavily, anyone who looked at the knife wielding country would think she was unfeeling unless you looked at her hands. They were wringing her dress and she didn't even think twice at leaving her brother.

Others left, China and Japan left silently. Germany comforted a crying Northern Italy promising gelato to try to get his mind off of this lost. Romano was pulled away by Spain trying to disguise his whimpers as coughs and his gathering tears as the rain that had not yet fallen. Spain kept silent blinking back tears, this shook him up but not as bad as Prussia. Prussia was silent as he wondered off alone heading home to Germany's basement. France led a shell-shocked England away from the graveyard as rain began to fall, it fell heavily causing more nations to leave rapidly. Until only two were left.

Russia walked forward, boots stomping on green grass. He peered down at the headstone, lighting flashed illuminating the writing on the stone.

Alfred F. Jones

July 4th 1992-October 1st 2012

Rest in peace friend, brother, fighter and freedom rider.

"You were a good friend to have Amerika. Even better enemy." Russia said booming thunder covering the sound of rustling grass as someone came up behind him.

A hand came out of the darkness and spun Russia around, before he could react cold pale white hands gripped him by his coat and pulled him forward. Bluish eyes burned with a rage Russia had not seen since the cold war, blond hair blew in the wind.

"America?!" Russia gasped gripping the hands that would not release him.

"Wrong." This phantom growled. Russia looked at this person more closely and saw the differences. The fiery eyes were more purplish-blue than America's sky blue, blond hair was styled like America's; except for, one curlthat fell in front of the enraged face of Canada. Russia tugged at the hands of his attacker, he could not get away. Only America could match his strength, though when he thought about it. It made sense that his twin would have the same power, even if he didn't us it.

"I know you had something to do with this." Canada hissed, rage boiling over. "I don't know how but I know you did something to my brother and I'm going to make you pay."

Purple eyes froze over and using all his strength Russia jerked out of Canada's hands.

"I would worry more about what is to become of your brother's land and less about what I may have done." With a mockingly sweet smile Russia walked away.

Canada watched as his brother's worse enemy/friend disappear into the darkness and then turned to his twin's grave. He kneeled down on one knee, not caring that his jeans were getting wet he was already soaked to the bone. One hand reached out and traced the letters of Alfred's name.

"Don't worry, I'll make it right."

How 2p Hetalians were born!

By ncalkins, don't own anything that looks like something you've seen before, this is not pet cemetery!

'….' Nation thinking

*2p Hetalian thinking.*

America dies and England wonders in a haze until the Fourth of July. We still celebrate Independence Day, though Matthew has become the persona of America and Canada. He had promised to keep America free; He made that promise to Alfred.

England woke up from his deadened state and threw a fit, he knocked back glass after glass of alcohol until he gets the idea to visit America. He opens a nations path and travels to America's grave. He sits for a while drinking some rum while sitting next to America's grave, his hand trailing through grass and over warm stone. England choked out a laugh.

"Well, git after all you're badgering I finally came to visit you on your birthday. It's just too late for you to celebrate."

"You're not celebrating at all, old man! Your just sitting here crying like a ninny lay off the beer light weight!" America's voice echoed in his head.

A smile tugged at England's lips, "Git."

That smile quickly gave away to a frown as a younger America's voice screamed in his head, "You said you'd be there! Why didn't you protect me?"

A sob escaped, England pleaded.

"I couldn't I didn't know you would die. Stupid why didn't you eat right, stupid probably died from a heart attack. Your not even suppose to have food or drink in the meeting room, WHY CAN'T YOU EVER FOLLOW THE RULES!"'

He learned from the best.' England thought frowning, he throwing the now empty bottle to crash against a mausoleum.

"I'm a former Pirate, a Pireeter I never play by the rules."

An enlightened look dawned on England's face, he turned his head to America's grave the name Alfred F. Jones glowing with each firework that busted over head.

"I never play by the rules." England whispered.A crazed smile twisted its way on England's face.

"I never play by the rules. Don't worry Alfie I'll be back~."

Once more, he opened the nation's path and he scrambled through, practically running toward his own country. Within minutes, he was back in his home. He rushed to his basement, grabbing the chalk he drew a circle muttering to himself what he would need.

"I need some tears of a unicorn and clothe of the reaper. Bouvardia for the zest of life, a Daffodil for rebirth, Gladiolus flower for remembrance, white Heather for wishes will come true."

He gathered all those ingredients and placed them in the circle and remembered the most important ingredient he needed, he rushed to his gardening shed and grabbed a shovel. Opening a nation path once more and feeling slightly sick once he reached the other side, it really wasn't healthy to be doing that more than once. He began to dig up America's grave, when he reached the mahogany coffin he used strength he couldn't remember having and busted the top off the coffin. He reached down and gently removed America's cold body. He scrambled out of the gave and for a moment collapsed cradling America close, a relaxed face stared up at him. America's head lolled in a lifeless way, his pale skin flashed red then blue as fire works exploded above them.

"Soon ducky, soon you'll be back and I won't let you go." England muttered as he caressed America's face, with surprising strength he lifted the body of his dear one and once more opened a path.

He crossed over into his basement a small part of him worried about leaving a destroyed coffin, an open grave and a shovel at the scene the larger part of him was too tired and focused to placed America in the middle of the circle surrounded by the flowers and other things. He stepped out and began to chant.

"emoc kcab tirips fo aciremA." (Come back spirit of America - it's backwards)

He chanted three times until he heard a voice,"England? What?"

A smile upturned his lips as acid green eyes opened, there before him was the spirit of America looking confused as he took in the casting ground. Blue eyes finally landed on the relaxed face of his body.

"Man, I'm wearing a suit! They know I hate suits!" America whined running a hand over his face.

England felt a laugh bubble with in him; he ruthlessly squashed it and while America was distracted, began to chant.

"Soul return to the body, let the body remember how to live, let my wish be filled and bring America back to me!"

America felt a pull to his soul; it was small at first then became more forceful and more painful. America yelped and whined as he was pulled toward his body, he tried to fight it when he couldn't he screamed.

"England! England, man what are you doing! Stop it! It hurts!"

'I'm sorry America, it's for your own good.' England thought as tears streamed down his face, the sound of America's pain sliced at his heart like knives.

He continued chanting until he heard a sputtering. America was sitting up and breathing hard as if he had drowned, blue eyes met green and both pairs rolled back into their heads.

Canada stood shaking with rage violet eyes boiling with tears, roses were being crushed in his hand.

"Who….who did this to my brother. For God's Sake Couldn't You People Leave Him In Peace!"

Days passed; Canada had made police searched for this grave robber. The shovel had prints, however they didn't match anyone in the world. Therefore, Canada now knew it was one of the countries. The question was which one.

While Canada was searching for the grave robber, England was spending time with America and growing more worried with each passing day. He continued to try to feed America even gave him the slop from McDonald's, the food tasted fine according to America but it always came back up as if he couldn't stomach it. His skin turned paler, he had sunken cheeks and England knew if he didn't do something soon he would lose his little bother once again. So when he promised that the food would stay this time and blue eyes peered at him with trust but also a tired disbelieve he was willing to try anything, even the old superstition that the dead eat the living. He stalked his streets looking for someone anyone in the dead of night to feed his little brother.

He saw someone lurking in the shadows; he scanned his brain for info on this shadow. A murderer, perfect no one would miss him. England's hand snapped out and a knife flew out of his sleeve, a gurgle came from the dark were the knife hit. England walked forward, he kept the knife in to stench the flow of blood, and he wrapped the body in his tweed jacket and picked it up bridle style. Opening the nation's path within a second he was in his kitchen as he laid the body down on the table, he never noticed the pink swirling in his began to cut up the body a sick feeling settling in his stomach.

How can I do this? Even if this was a murderer he's still my citizen. another voice came into his head sickly sweet. *If we don't, we'll lose Alfie~.*

With new determination England continued. The body was cut up; the meat was stripped from the bones; the fat boiled away and grounded with a meat grinder; the bones placed in a bag on the floor. He mixed it with hamburger meat he had taken to having at his home for America. As the meat cooked he was suddenly whacked with the want to make cupcakes, he ignored it and waited for the hamburger to finish. Once it was done and England places it on a bun, with condiments, lettuces and tomatoes.

The pink in his eyes had receded to a barely there line around his pupil. As he took the plate to America he passed the bag of bones, it had been knocked over and was now spilling out on the floor. Two cats and two dogs were munching on them; two were familiar and the others weren't, but he didn't feel worried. As he passed the unfamiliar dog and cat; they raised their heads reviling mixed matched eyes one pink and one blue as they licked their especially sharp teeth.

England walked over to the prone American and presented the hamburger. America looked at him with tired eyes ang grabbed hold of the given hamburger. He took a bite and moaned at the taste.

"Your food's never tasted this good before!""Git my food is always perfect!" England huffed as the sickly sweet voice said, *Thank you dear~!*

America finished his food and they waited, when nothing happened America flashed a huge grin at England. England felt his own smile forming, "Now don't get to excited, we'll wait until morning for the real verdict."

America nodded and settled in his bed, feeling for the first time in a while, full and so very sleepy. As soon as America was asleep; England tucked him in and kissed his forehead.

As he walked out of the room he said, "It's okay Alfie, now that I know what to do. Big brother will take care of you~."

Pink squiggles were making there way through forest green as England closed America's door.

What you think?