A/N

Hi! It's me writing my first multichapter fic. Quick facts that will help you understand this so you don't ask too many questions. My Hetalia headcanon is that Germany had the split personality of Nazi Germany during WWII, who is the truly insane megalomaniac. Our Germany, meanwhile, had no idea that this was going on. So that's who this guy is. Also, this will be USUK. Don't like, don't read. Okay, so let's get this show on the road! *snaps fingers*

1941

England tested the ropes binding him to his chair and was dismayed to find they were good quality. It would take a knife to cut through them, and even if he had a knife, he wouldn't be able to get out of the chair because his hands were bloody tied together. In any case, his only choice was to wait for his captor to come and talk to him. Thankfully, he did not have to wait long. Germany entered the darkened basement room. Or, at least, someone who looked a lot like Germany. He had Germany's blonde hair, ramrod straight posture, and fair skin. But his eyes…his eyes were blood red and insane. And he had an expression of cruelty on his face that England had never seen on Germany's.

"Who are you?"

"You know who I am."

"You're not Germany. I know Germany. He's a man I've fought with and against. He's a worthy opponent and a good man altogether. And you, sir, are not him."

England was expecting the punch in the face but was surprised by its strength.

"Brilliant deduction. Your French friend was a bit slower on the uptake."

England fought back the surge of anger at his mention of France. He could not pinpoint the exact second he stopped seeing the frog as an enemy and more as a friend who was also a rival. Maybe they didn't always agree, but the idea of his ally being tortured by this pathetic excuse for a country made his blood boil. He knew a reaction was what whoever this was wanted. France had been on the run ever since his country had fallen almost a year ago. England had hoped he was safe. He could still be. He could be lying to unhinge you. Stay calm.

"All right. Germany is currently about a hundred miles away, training his little Italian pet. I was sent here by our boss to interrogate our prisoner."

Don't speak. England thought to himself. Don't show fear.

"I know how it felt in the years after the last war, the war you and your allies blamed Germany for. My goal is to make you hurt more than you ever hurt him."

England's eyes went wide as something occurred to him.

"You're Nazi Germany. If a personality split occurred, something major must have happened that Germany doesn't know about. What's going on? What are you doing?"

Nazi Germany smiled slowly.

"That is none of your business. So, tonight I believe we have a little something scheduled for your capitol city. Enjoy."

The television screen in the wall of the room flickered to life, revealing London. England knew what was coming. That didn't stop it from hurting like hell when the bombs ripped through his body, leaving injuries that he knew would scar. He closed his eyes, but that didn't stop the screaming of his people, or the fire he knew was consuming the city he loved.

Stay strong. You can't break. You're England. You're stronger than he is

One Week Later

England paced his cell, careful not to put weight on his left leg. Every day, guards would take him to the television room and force him to watch the destruction of his cities. December had come, and his heart hurt for the soldiers who wouldn't be home for Christmas. But he was okay. He wasn't physically whole, his left ankle was sprained, his torso was bruised, he knew he had a few broken ribs, and a constant pain in his heart from the constant assault on his country, but he hadn't cried, hadn't screamed, and hadn't broken. He was winning. At six, he sat on his cot, waiting for Nazi Germany to come. But nothing happened. He felt the bombings, but he was alone in his cell, not being watched by Nazi Germany or any guards. He stretched out on his cot and clenched his fists, not letting his pain show on his face, in case there were cameras. Something's going to happen. Something did happen. At midnight, as he lay sleepless on his cot, the guards came. He didn't fight them as they dragged him down the hallway, or as they tied him to the chair. They would win those fights. But they couldn't break him.

Nazi Germany walked in. He was smiling; a sure sign something terrible was going to happen.

"Hello, England. Sorry we woke you."

England said nothing.

"I had a discussion with my boss about you. You see, you're being quite frustrating. We like to break our prisoners, and you're just not breaking. You seemed to have no weakness."

England couldn't resist raising his eyebrows just a little bit, as if to say it sure took you a long time to figure that out.

"But then we did some research on your history. Your former allies, your brothers, your…ex-colonies."

England's heart suddenly sped up. He struggled to stay calm

"Are you referring to America? Because I can assure you, I have no feelings for him at all. We were allies during the First World War but that's the closest contact we've had since 1812."

His voice shook a little and he prayed that Nazi Germany didn't hear. But one look at his face and it was clear he had.

"We had planned this for a little while, but now the timing couldn't be more perfect. After all, it's the one thing that can break the great country of England."

The television turned on and zoomed in on a map of Hawaii. England struggled against his bonds.

"No. You can't. America is neutral. You can't j-just do this."

Nazi Germany smirked.

"He hasn't exactly behaved like a neutral country lately. Too busy helping his former mentor out of his latest mess. You can watch your America burn, England, and know that this war, and what is about to happen to him is entirely your fault."

"No!"

Nazi Germany lifted a walkie-talkie to his mouth.

"Give the order, Japan."

"No, please, no!"

England felt his hands shaking and couldn't stop the terror in his voice or the tears that welled up in his eyes.

And the ships of Pearl Harbor burned.

A/N

*Winces* Wow , that was dark. And hard to write. I had to torture my England. *hides in crate of tomatoes* I'm just going to sit in here for a bit. Next stop, America! We'll see his reaction and him leaving to rescue England. And it will be amazing because I love these two so much!