I do not own Hetalia, because that right belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

Alfred stumbled into his house, just barely managing to lock the door before falling to the wooden floor. 'Damn that commie bastard... These'll be hard to clean up..' he cursed, referring to the multitude of wounds he had gotten from his most recent fight with the man. 'Fuck.. I think he stabbed me. How did I miss that?'

Gathering his courage, he dragged himself up and staggered to his bathroom, where all of his medical supplies were.

When he had finished, he lay on his couch, exhausted. With his body healing (it turned out the commie had actually stabbed him), he barely had enough energy to eat. Barely. But tonight he didn't have the will-power to get up to go get the food. So he turned on his t.v. instead; unfortunitely, his mind wasn't on the show. It was on his secret.

If the others found out... They'd treat him differently. A lot differently. Especially England. Maybe Russia would treat him a little less rough, China would laugh at the irony, and Francis would pull something. Today had come too close.. He didn't have enough time to put the armour on, so when Korea came around, he had had to pull a gun. When the others didn't get suspicious (they didn't want Korea on them, either), America was relieved, but then he and Russia had gotten in a fight that had almost let Russia see. Who knows what he would do if he found out.. Black-mail at best, telling everyone his secret at worst.

He shuddered, and forced his mind off of that topic, instead thinking about hamburgers. Dang, now he wanted a hamburger. And he had just run out.. He'd have to go to Mc******* and get some more. He really didn't want to put the armour on, though. A hoodie would work, right? Yeah.. He pulled a loose hoodie on and left the house, grabbing his keys on the way and locking the door.

On the way to Mc*******, every street deserted, it started lightly raining. America didn't mind, he actually liked the rain. He was almost there when he finally saw someone, in a hoodie with sagging pants, his face shadowed. "Hey, dude." America greeted as he passed. The man grunted.

'Probably just a bad day.' America decided, not letting the man's negativity get to him.

He went into Mc******* and ordered 34 hamburgers, just enough to last until morning, because burgers didn't taste good when they weren't fresh. On the way out, arms loaded with bags, he noticed the man from before standing behind him, staring right at him. 'He's waiting for someone? Why doesn't he just go in?'

America shrugged it off and continued on his way. About halfway home, he saw the man again, still behind him. Still staring at him. He made sure his gun was still in his jacket, then sighed. He couldn't go home, because then the man would know where he lived, but he couldn't go anywhere else because then the man would follow him.

Now a little sad because his hambugers would probably get cold, America turned around with a huff and walked up to the man, who looked a little surprised he had been caught. He tilted his head to the side, looking very innocent and curious, like a small child. "Excuse me, can I help you?"

"U-um.. No."

"Are you looking for someone? Someone that looks like me? Can I help you find him?"

"No. Thanks, though."

"Oh. Well, if you need something like that, I always recommend the police!" I turned around and started walking down the street, stopping when I heard the familiar click of a gun loading. I turned around slowly, now staring down the barrel of a gun in the guy's hand.

"Get in the ally."

Shit. I hadn't been expecting a gun. I slowly lowered myself to the ground, setting down my bags, watching the gun follow me. My hands went into my coat pocket, pulling out a gun and shooting the guy in the leg, jumping out of the way before he could shoot back and taking cover by the side of a building.

The guy screamed, falling to the ground, clutching his leg. He raised his gun again and fired several shots around me. Two of them hit me, one in my thigh, the other very near where my heart was.

I cried out, shooting him again before going back under cover, calling Arthur's number. He was staying in the area and could come help before the police could. The line picked up, and I spoke before Arthur could, "Dude, Arthur, there's this guy that was trying to kill me or something and so I shot him in self defense and he shot me twice more, once in the leg and the other really fricking close to my heart, man! I don't know if I can get home, and I think I killed the guy, but I'm losing blood fast!"

A pause. Then the voice said something, but the loud pounding in my ears mixed with my heavy breathing drowned out the voice. "What?" I panted. "Can you repeat that, I can't hear you!"

This time I could make out "Where" and "you".

"U-uh.." I told him where I was. The last thing I heard before I blacked out was,

"Okay. I'll be there soon, comrade."