A knock came upon the door.

England sighed, looking up from the casualty reports on his and America's countries, before standing and stalking towards the entranceway, intent on giving the knocker a piece of his mind for interrupting his tiring work.

It had been at least 2 weeks into the war, and already, their side was exhausting in supplies and soldiers, with China gaining immense strength and numbers as he continued his conquering crusade on the other Asian nations, Russia helping by taking over the other northern personifications.

England didn't know what to do.

Flinging open his front door, England opened his mouth to yell, "What the bloody hell do you-" Then he stopped. "America?"

Alfred grinned at the stunned look in green eyes. "Hi Iggy!" The spectacled blonde greeted cheerfully, traipsing inside England's house in an ungraceful manner.

Arthur followed closely behind. "What the bloody hell did you do, Alfred?" the Briton demanded, grabbing the younger's broad shoulder. "You- you're covered in blood! Are you hurt-?"

"Oh, I'm not hurt!" America laughed, and he suddenly swung around and encased England in a bear hug, resting his chin on the shorter man's shoulder. "Not. At. All." He laughed as the latter flinched, hearing an insane note in the sound. Then England smelled it.

"Alfred, are you drunk?" The island exclaimed incredulously, trying to pull himself out of the American's grasp, smelling a strong sense of alcohol from the younger nation's lips.

America held on, nuzzling England's jacket fabric. "Yeah," the larger slurred happily. "I'm drunk-" He giggled, "—on life!"


"I killed them, Artie," the taller nation sang, rubbing his hands all over the Brit's clothes, leaving bloody trails. "I killed them."

England frozed. "Who…?" he said, hesitantly…afraid.

America pulled back slightly and smiled reassuringly, but the lamplight that shined on his youthful face made the shadows lengthen, and the smile became a twisted smirk, his glasses shined in a way that hid his eyes.

"I killed my president and your prime minister, Iggy," the American said calmly, yet the grip on England's arms didn't lessen. "I killed them."

Arthur felt as if he was being punched in the stomach. "What…what?" the Briton managed to gasp out, wrenching himself away from the younger man's hold. "A-America, please, please tell me you're bloody joking-"

"It's no joke," Alfred said, confirming the other's fear. The sunny blonde grinned. "It's not a joke, Iggy. I killed them. Killed them in such ways that anyone that could just take one peek, will know that they're deader than a doornail." A giggle erupted from the larger nation's mouth involuntarily, and as if a dam was broken, he began to full blown on laughing, bending over as he clutched his middle.

Staring at his former charge continue to laugh insanely, England felt bile rise in his throat, felt such a horror that it made him want to cover his ears and start screaming. Instead, he swallowed the lump in his throat and whispered, "Why?"

Hearing the question, America stopped his chortling and smiled, grabbing the suddenly boneless Brit's arm and swinging the latter to land on top of the couch, he himself clambering eagerly over the stiff body.

"Aww, Iggy~" Alfred cooed softly, rubbing his cheek against the rainy island's, smearing his dead superior's blood all over the pale face. "I just had to do it. They didn't agree with my plans, they didn't like how I wanted to run things, they didn't want to fight against those damn Communist-" the spectacled blonde added a snarl of emphasis on the word, "—really, they just didn't agree with me. And being the hero I am, I decided to get rid of them, so that they wouldn't get in the way of my saving of the millions, liberating against that of China and Russia, those bastards."

America gave a sigh, letting his body fully rest on England. "I didn't want to do it, Artie," the American explained, looping fingers through the English country's own. "But I had to, and I know you understand Arthur, because me and you are the same." He lifted his head, staring into England's green, smiling so gently, it hurt. "We're Capitalist."

Arthur stayed silent, too stunned, too goddamned shocked, to even think about uttering a word, to say anything at all.

"Also, a few days before I killed our bosses…" Alfred added in, laying his blonde head on the Englishman's chest, listening to the slow, steady heartbeats through the army-issued clothes. "I spoke to Canada's."

England gave a sudden lurch, and America chuckled, holding both of the Briton's hands tightly. "No, no," he said, amusedly, blue eyes twinkling like small stars behind glass. "I didn't have to get rid of him, because he agreed to my plans. Now Mattie's gonna be on our side!"

"Matthew?" England finally croaked out, eyes disbelieving and wide. "Matthew?"

"I also tried to tell Mexico and Cuba, and all the rest about joining my side," Alfred went on, "But they said 'no'." The large ex-superpower shook his head almost sadly, as he said softly, "Too bad I won't let them have a choice…"

The island nation felt his soul and heart freeze at those particular words, registering bit by bit of the meanings, and the definitions in his mind.

"What do you mean you won't let them have a choice…?"

"Isn't it obvious?" America gave him a bemused look. "I'm going to have to make them join my side, whether by force or not, they will join."

England sat up, shoving the larger off with a grunt and scooted, back hitting the arm rest of the couch.

America blinked at the display of strength, a little surprised at the elder. "England…?"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Arthur demanded, drawing his knees up. "You-you're making it sound like…"

Alfred moved closer, cocking his blonde head to the side. "'Like…'?" he asked curiously, but the knowing glint in his eyes betrayed what he thought the other was about to say.

England swallowed, feeling goose bumps begin to run all over his body. "You're making it sound like you...that if they don't cooperate…you'll begin to conquer nations." The bushy-browed nation looked up, almost pleadingly at the American. "You wouldn't do that…right, Alfred?"

America didn't answer, only thoughtfully staring at the smaller man, instead.

England started to feel some hope, that maybe, just maybe, Alfred hasn't fallen in too deep yet, that the younger nation won't have to experience the power and pain that came with the conquering of others, that maybe, Alfred was truly a good person, just a bit misguided, that he wouldn't fall into temptation, that his Alfred, his, was still just that- Alfred.

Then America's mouth curved up, and England felt his hope sink like a broken boat.

"I'll do what I have to do, Arthur," Alfred said evenly, "Even if I have to resort to that, I'll do it, whatever it takes to get rid of evil." He grinned crookedly. "I am the hero, after all."

Hearing those words uttered in such a naïve, innocent tone, England felt his hands clenched, and he spat out venomously, "Hero my arse, you're just like China and Russia." He glared, green eyes staring into shocked blue. "Now that I think about it, you and they are just the same."

A blow collided with his face, and Arthur fell backwards, head landing on the arm cushion, blood welling into his mouth from his cut lip.

"Don't you dare even associate me with those Commies," America seethed, gloved hands holding the island nation down as he loomed threateningly over him, "I'm Capitalist, and whatever I do, it's never, never going to be anything like what those Communist bastards would do."

"Oh?" England snarled, blood running down his pale chin. "What makes your reasoning sound any better? You just told me you would conquer other nations if they refused you, that makes you no better than what China's doing now!"

"I'm different!" the larger nation insisted angrily, "I'm good, and I'll only take over other personifications if they won't help me fight against China! And you know we have to defeat him. We have to stop him from spreading the Communist disease, we have to, Arthur, we have to."

"Do we?" England questioned coolly, eyes frigid. "Why must it be we?"

America leaned down, face close to the Briton's. "Yes, we," the bespectacled man murmured softly, "I need you, Arthur, I need you as much as you need me. We're a team, you and I, and we have to stick together to go against the things that threaten the way we are."

Even though America's words sounded warm and love-filled, England knew better, knew so much better.

'I need you to help me become a superpower again, Arthur,' were the hidden meanings, 'I need you because you use to be an Empire, you can help me.'

England didn't say anything. He was too tired, tired of fighting…

"Don't go against me, Arthur," Alfred said gently, but underneath the sugary coat, laid dark malice. "You're Capitalist, just like me. I don't want to hurt you, Arthur; I don't want to treat you like Commie scum, so stay by me and don't rebel, okay?" The American leaned, breaths fanning England's face. "Okay?"

"Yes," the English man finally answered, closing his eyes. "Yes, Alfred."

America grinned, drunken look back in his eyes. "Good."

Then the taller blonde leaned down, kissing the Briton's lips, and England thought about how the alcohol that America had consumed somehow tasted too right with his own spilt blood.


UnluckyWriter: Jeez…America and China seem to have lost it, and Russia and England seem to be weak sentimental people, huh? But they're like, not! Here's the reason of their OOCness:

America's acting the way he is, because he was a superpower for like, the majority of his short life, and having something that long and then taken away is traumatizing on the guy, so that's why he's acting the way he is. In my opinion, I think he's a twisted, insane, multiple-personality-disordered person, yet with a nice, good heart…Yeah, it's affectionate hate.

China's acting the way he is, because he's never been a superpower, so the combination of power/strength, is messing with his smart thinking.

Russia's acting too nice is because he thought he was the only one capable of acting cruel, until he witnessed what Yao could do to the extreme, so he's in shock.

England here, is acting too compliant towards America, I know, but think about it, he took care of the guy when America was younger, and he's use to complying with his every request, so with the combination with his totally not platonic love, it's gonna prove disastrous. Don't worry; it's going to change soon…maybe.

So…there ya have it.

Review…please? =3