A/N - I've always wanted to try writing a cracked!Canada so...

No one saw the conference room door open. No one heard the footsteps creaking softly on the floor. No one saw the trembling hand that raised the gun, nor did they see the shaking finger that pulled the trigger.

All the nations present jumped at the sounding gunshot, heads turning toward the source of the noise. The room was dead silent as all eyes fell on the deranged man in the doorway. His once blond shoulder length hair was matted and full of dirt. His clothes were stained with dried blood and torn beyond repair. The skin on his pale arms was decorated with various cuts and scars, obviously of a self-inflicted nature. But the most disturbing thing about the man was the color of his eyes. A light purple, just off blue, a color that held a dangerous mix of emotions. Anger. Pain. Betrayal. Rage. Sorrow. Insanity.

"Who the bloody hell are you?!" Someone demanded after several minutes passed in silence.

"You don't remember me, England?" The deranged man asked softly, then laughed, a twisted smile forming on his crimson lips. "Of course you don't. Nobody remembers me. No one remembers Canada."

Everyone stared, what was he talking about? Who was this 'Canada?' Suddenly America, otherwise known as 'the hero,' spoke up, his face pale with shock.

"M-Mattie?" He asked shakily.

Canada grinned, pleased that he had finally been remembered. "It's been a long time, brother."

His tone was so sickeningly sweet that it made the other nations cringe.

"Y-yeah." America agreed nervously. "I guess it has..."

"Why were you so mean to me, Alfie?" Canada asked, his grin fading as suddenly as it had appeared. "Why did you treat me so terribly?" His face grew darker with each word, contrasting heavily with his childishly innocent voice. "Was I not a good enough little brother? I tried to be, I really did. But no matter what I did, nothing worked. You never paid attention to me, you never cared."

"That's not true!" America protested, standing to his feet.

"Is it?" Canada challenged, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Name one time when you actually did something to help me."

America opened his mouth, but no words came out. He racked his brain, trying to think of a time when he did something kind for his younger brother, but he couldn't.

"You can't, can you?" Canada sneered victoriously. "You were always so obsessed with being a hero that you failed to see yourself become the villain. You left me, your own flesh and blood, and went off with to fight in wars that didn't concern you." Fresh tears filled his eyes, his voice growing to a state of hysterics as he spoke. "I was the one who needed saving! Me! Why couldn't you see that?! Why?!"

"Mattie..." America chocked, horrified at what he had done to his beloved brother. "I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry!"

"Good." Canada laughed, a crazed grin spreading across his lips. "Then you can be first."

Before anyone could ask what he meant, a second gunshot sounded, followed by the thump of Alfred's body hitting the floor.

"America!" England screamed, moving swiftly to the other man's side.

"...England?"

"I'm here, Alfred."

"Arthur..." America breathed heavily. "I-I'm scared. I don't wanna die..."

"You won't die you bloody git." England whispered. "I'm not going let that happen."

"...Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"I just want you to know that I... That I-"

A third gunshot cut off the American's words.

"It was always him, wasn't it?" Canada said bitterly. "I was never important to you, Alfred was."

England was silent for a moment as he frantically felt America's wrist for a pulse. Nothing.

"You bastard!" He screeched. "You've killed him!"

"You did the same thing to me." Canada spat mercilessly. "Because of you, I had to live each and every day of my miserable life in second place to that lowlife, burger-eating, son of a whore!"

"Don't you dare speak of him like that!"

"Why? It's not like he's going to care, he's dead."

England had had enough. He flung himself violently at Canada, screaming curses as he went. However, his attempted attack failed as a fourth bullet stopped him dead in his tracks.

"You have no idea what you put me through... I was willing to do anything for you, anything at all. I would have died for you, England!" Canada screamed, his purple eyes dancing eerily. "I always looked up to you! I loved you so much and you never even knew that I existed... Well so long, bastard!"

With that he put the Englishman out of his misery.

"Mon Dieu... Mathieu... What has happened to you?"

Canada turned to face the speaker, his face draining of color.

"France?" He asked weakly.

The older nation nodded stepping into the room. With a stifling sob, he reached out to touch the younger country.

"Stay away from me!" Canada growled.

"No." France replied defiantly. "Not when you need me."

And with that he wrapped his arms around the other's waist, pulling him close. The embrace lasted for only a short second before France felt a sharpness dig into his side; a knife. He fell to the ground, his face twisted in a mixture of pain and shock.

"I don't need anyone."

His final words spoken, Canada raised the revolver to his head. A look of glee planted firmly on his face, he pulled the trigger, thus ending his hellish existence forever

A/N - I don't even know how I come up with this stuff...

Anywho, I hope you managed to get some enjoyment out of my craptastic writing.

BAI! xD