Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Or anything else important.

It started with a sick feeling in his stomach. It had come with no reason- just a tension that spread up from his abdomen and into his throat. A poisonous feeling, like green flames brushing at the flesh under his skin, brought him to his knees. No one saw, no one heard. He was alone in the beginning, alone as pain racked his strong body, and his pride gave him the motivation to stand and stumble to the bathroom. The cold porcelain stung his calloused hands as he retched, blood and black and green all spewing into the water below. Only the alabaster walls knew of the secret this would become, of his sickness that would slowly spread with time.

Blue eyes became unfocused as the bile continued to sear his aching throat every few minutes. The stinging pain left him reeling in wonder, confused and wondering what had caused this sudden sickness.

The answer would come to him in a few hours, when his President entered his home with the key given to her- yes, her- and found him half conscious in his bathroom. A few calls were made, and her calculating gaze, so misplaced in her warm features, settled on the weakened nation to wait. His attempts to speak were broken by coughing fits, and his Boss didn't try to answer any of his half-spoken questions. She treated the nation coldly, as if she disliked being around him. And perhaps she did, it was true that not all of America's bosses had liked the lively nation. But they had never been so cruel as to distantly watch him writhe in pain at their feet.

It was several minutes after her calls had been made that the front door was opened again- and a pair of paramedics made their way upstairs with a stretcher carried under the arm of one.

"You were slow," she said, brown eyes narrowed behind her glinting glasses as she stepped away from the doorway and began to walk away, the two men apologizing behind her as they loaded the sickly Alfred onto the stretcher.

"My fiancé should be treated with the same distinct care as I, the President of the United States of America, should. Is that understood?" she said, tone clipped as she walked down the stairwell, hands neatly folded together in front of her.

"Yes Ma'am!"

As she exited the house, a line of black vehicles greeted her, and the gentle wind blew at the faux fur collar of her coat. Men in body armor, carrying shining and lethal guns, lined the walkway as she passed and approached her limousine. The door was politely opened by her Vice President, McLair, and closed once she had settled. Alfred was loaded into the black ambulance behind her limo, the paramedics careful to treat him to the best of their ability.

She pressed the button on the side of the door, crossing a leg over the other and speaking out the window at McLair. "Burn it all."

If the man had any qualms with her words, he did not show it. He instead bowed low, waiting several seconds before he stood straight and tall. He turned from her as her gaze drifted forward, and motioned for one of the armored men to come to him. The man, perhaps in his early 30's, stood rigidly in front of the Vice President, face stoic as he received orders to light the beautiful mansion afire.

"Sir, Yes Sir!"

Smoke filled the sky as the President's limo departed, followed by the dark ambulance which carried Alfred. She gazed ahead professionally, only allowing the tiniest glimpse of a smirk to curl her lips.

Laid upon the stretcher, America hardly registered the smoke in the sky for what it was. His home- and everything in it- burning away.

"Citizens of my America, tonight, you are addressed personally, and I ask that you listen. We have spent years wallowing in the face of pity, as nations all around us mock our very existence. Where has our strength gone? For what has it been wasted upon? Why have we allowed this change to ruin our once glorious nation? We have always been strong, you might defend. No! We have grown placid with our humble lives, let it turn us into materialistic slobs and overconfident fools. Tonight, I offer you the change you have frustratedly clamored for, for so many years.

"The Purge has begun- our systematic cleansing of our beloved home. Never has such a drastic measure been taken by our government to right the wrongs committed by past generations. But I promise you this, you have nothing to fear. Have you ever looked around the room you are in, perhaps at a doctor's office or the market, and seen fellow citizens, who do nothing but waste the air around you, and consume vital resources? I have. And it sickens me. These people, people who should be no different than you or I, have become something which corrupts the world we live in. The murderers, the rapists, the pedophiles, the thieves and the arsonists. The woman who beats her child for nothing more than the poor thing's hunger, when she could easily provide for it. The man who drowns his wife in the kitchen sink because his meal was not properly prepared- yes, it has happened. And things like it continue to happen.

"We share our world with the vilest of creatures, and they are not the wolves which hunt the deer beneath the moon, or the cats which stalk the mice within our homes. The are the inhuman souls which strike out upon the poor or the innocent because of the woes that are their lives! They are the man or the woman who taunts you and belittles you! They are the people who hurt your children and make their lives impossible to live happily! They are the liars and the cheaters- and our nation is not clean with them dirtying our land.

"I know that tonight, some of you cry out for the souls we are losing. You defend that as evil and twisted as they may be, they are still human. You say that The Purge is a massacre in disguise, a monstrosity. I cry for you beautiful people, and with you, because of your kind and forgiving hearts. But something must be done! And my citizens, you have these wonderful hearts because you have been hurt. Something has broken you, and you have come back from it stronger! This is a sad day for our nation, but there is always a price to pay for the future. We have struggled for years to right our trembling economy, we have tried to teach out children the best that we can, and they learn too late to listen. I say enough. It is time for the struggle to end.

"I will not lie to you, my citizens. What will be done tonight will leave a scar on our hearts. In the darkness, our prisons will be emptied. Our murderers and rapists- and all others of similar crimes, will be executed. Any men wrongly committed, or imprisoned for petty crimes, will be released with a tag upon their names. Cities will be chosen for these men, and they will be relocated. They will not be given the option to return to their families for several months. They must first prove themselves capable of surviving in our world. A world without crime or pitiful acts.

"Companies that have no reason for existing, other than to satisfy the needs of the greedy, will be torn down. Over the next few days, they will be replaced with local businesses which boost our economy, and provide you with products with the best American quality. These will include supermarkets, entertainment stores, banks, among others. You have no reason to worry, your best interest is our concern. Over the next two weeks, we will begin to purge our next concern. We have seen the foster care and adoption system, how it is neglected and the children often mistreated. No more. All foster care families and adopted families will be reviewed, the children interviewed, and the necessary actions taken. If you have an adopted child, and you have their best interests in heart, then have no fear. The procedure is only needed to ensure the safety of the children. We would not remove children from happy homes.

"As such, any reports of child abuse will be taken care of swiftly. A child should not have to wait years to be taken from an abusive family, nor live on the streets after running away. Our children are our future, we must always remember that.

"My Vice President will soon take over the speech for me, as I have business to attend to. I hope that you will listen to McLair as attentively as you have me, and that the remainder of your night passes in safety".

America shakily leaned against the doorway to the Oval Office. It was Tuesday, January 28th, the day after The Purge began.

"Ms. Washington."

The President looked up from her small stack of papers- data on last night, he knew. He had seen copies of them just minutes ago. The dark glare on his face told her well enough of his mood, and she waved her bodyguards out. It would be a discussion best held only between them, she could tell. The door clicked shut as she laid the papers flat, setting the black ink pen beside the small pile.

America stood before the great desk, his breathing raspy as his hands trembled. He was dressed in a messy tuxedo, the only available clothing he had found in the room he'd woken in.

"Hello, Alfred. I'm glad to see you up and moving," She said, lacing her fingers together as she leaned back into the plush leather chair. "Do sit, I know that you must be feeling quite ill af-"

"Ill? Ill? Lady, you have no idea how fucking sick you've made me. You have no idea just what you've put our nation through- You can't feel it. You can't feel all of the deaths and the tears, you can't possibly imagine all of the sadness that you've put us through!"

"Sadness was the price to see it end. I thought that you, of all people, would understand Alfred. Some things must be handled in such ways," Her calm gaze blew the breath from America's chest, and he shuddered, knees breaking under his weight. He fell into the chair opposite of her, and buried his face into his cold hands.

"How could you do this?" It was meant to sound accusing, but the terrifying pain overwhelmed him, and he choked on his words, heavy breaths descending like broken sobs.

"I did it for you, Alfred. Always for you." Her voice was liquid poison as she stood, walking around the old desk to the now weeping nation. Her lovely white skirt crinkled as she knelt in front of him, reaching her soft and icy hands to hold the nations pale cheeks in her hands.

"W-what?"

"You have always deserved better. I saw, from afar, ever since I was a little child, how you have always sat in the background, listening to every President promise a better future for you, and our people. You have always had so much potential, but the stupid and worthless people have twisted you. I grew up admiring you, the face in the background that never changed. People always said that you were different people, when I pointed you out. Always there, never changing. They did not dare believe that you were one person, one who never aged or changed. But I knew the truth, because you always had the same beautiful blue eyes.

"And then I met you... I met you and I knew. You were a stupid fool, twisted by the morons of this country. I wanted you- and our people- to be the very best they could be. I knew that something had to change. And why not our country itself? We cannot blame our faults on others."

All while she spoke, with her enthralling voice, she was slowly stroking the blond nations hair back, and sliding up onto his lap to tilt his head back as she gazed down at him. He made weak attempts at pushing her away, but so strong was confusion, and so painful was his sickness, that his arms could hardly raise from the arm-rests.

"You will be strong again. Your sickness will pass. The wounds you bear from this, beneath your tuxedo, will scar over. You will be glorious again. We will. Together." She took his right hand from her shoulder, and held it in her hand as she reached into the pocket of her white suite jacket. From it, she pulled a small golden ring, plain and simple, and slid it into the fourth finger of his right hand. It fit perfectly, and the warmth of her smile would have been charming, if not for the dangerous look in her earthly eyes.

"Look, I have a matching one."

And she raised her right hand for his inspection, as if seeking approval. On her ring finger was a duplicate ring, it took a few moments for the implications to sink in.

"Wait. Wait, your kidding me- I barely even know you! And we- I- Nations do not marry humans!" He almost did push her off then, the sudden burst of energy panic gave him made him stronger. But she pulled him down with her, falling onto the carpeted floor while he landed right over her.

"I never thought you would like things rough, Alfred."

And he knew that she was fucking with him. Bad. There was a dark look in her eyes, and he was vaguely reminded of Russia when they hated each other.

He'd never been in a situation like this, though.

"I-I-Wha-No! No! Let me go!"

But she only clung to him tighter, and the cuts and bruises and broken bones he had gathered overnight stung fiercely at the cruel ministrations. He felt weak. Always, always, he had been protected in his weakest moments.

And quite suddenly, he realized what a predicament he was in. This was his President. Miss Lacie Washington. An ancestor of George. Her word was law. Literally.

"If I let you go, Alfred, it will be only to put you in chains." Was her dark response.

'Mattie, Ivan, someone... Get me out of this, please...' He thought, as her dainty fingers opened his shirt, and he struggled to get away from her obsessive grip. He strained to push her off of him, but she was surprisingly strong, and of course he was ridiculously weak at the moment. She had murdered damn near 10,000 of his citizens last night. Tore thousands of building down. It was a miracle he was even awake.

"We're going to change everything Alfred. You're going to be so strong, so beautiful." She whispered against his pulse, "Our people will thrive. And I, I will have you. I will tame the United States of America. I will do what no one else has done. Imagine it!"

She kissed at his thundering pulse, her young body pressing suspiciously and indecently close to his. "G-Get the hell off me you crazy bitch!" He yelled, and finally managed to knock her away from him using the strength of his terror. Her brunette hair fell down from the bun she had it in, and she glared at him darkly.

"What the fuck, y-you think I'm just gunna si-t down and l-let some crazy s-slut try and fuck me? No f-fucking way." He panted, the ache inside him building with his exertion. He scrambled away from her, until his back hit the wall and he had something to help himself up.

Meanwhile, she had stood up on the other side of the room.

"Alfred", she said darkly, "The masses have responded to The Purge positively. Any and all who oppose will be destroyed. Including you. I'm sure that we can find a way to kill you. And if we can't... Well. We'll just try over, and over again. We can test on the other nations, first, if you want. I know of a few who wouldn't be noticed missing."

Matthew. She was talking about Matthew. How did she know about him? Who the fuck was telling her about them? How did this insane psycho bitch become his President?

"So you have two choices, Alfred. Do what's best for you- and everyone else. Be the hero. The martyr. Or, be destroyed. And watch everyone else suffer, over your mistake."

He would find a way out of it. His last President must be able to help- the Secret Service, Congress, his people.

But who was going to believe one lone man? Against the word of the President of the United States?

He technically didn't even exist.

Lacie Washington smiled as the great United States of America bowed his head in rage.

"So, we have a deal?"

Alfred F. Jones looked up, out the window of the office, and saw the sky. In the distance, black smoke fluttered on the far away breeze. His silence seemed answer enough for her, in her twisted mind, and really it was. America must remain the greatest nation in the world, after all. One did not need spoken words to understand him. Or perhaps one did not need sanity to misunderstand him.

And still, as the morning wore on, the echoing screams of the dying filling Alfred's head, and inside, he burned, burned, burned.

"The United States of America has retracted from all ongoing wars and closed it's borders- Temporarily," Germany sighed, anxiously tapping at the podium with his pen.

"But why, aru? America has been getting along well recently, has he not?" China asked, looking disturbed by the sudden event. It was Friday, January 31st, and an emergency world meeting was currently being held.

Some countries had not shown, having not been able to schedule the meeting so suddenly. But for the most part, the important countries were there.

"Does anyone have an idea of what's happened? I've heard bits and pieces from the internet, but it seems America-san's government is keeping everything under tight control. There are a lot of rumors spreading around about another civil war, but I don't know how true they might be..." Japan spoke up from his seat, his small laptop set up on the table top.

"Ve!~ I hope poor Alfred isn't having another civil war! He must be so sick!" Italy murmured from Germany's side, stroking a small brown kitten settled in his arms.

"Ja, and that is why I am so concerned.", Germany groaned, worried. He and America had grown rather close over the years. Alfred had a lot of German blood in him, it was kind of expected that they get along. And really, the boy was no worse than Italy once you got used to him.

"No one can reach the bloody git? No one at all?", England growled, caterpillar eyebrows furrowed in unease. Their 'Special Bond' had been strained for the last few years. As such they hadn't talked as much as either would have liked. He found himself missing the boy often.

"He doesn't answer his cell when he is called." Germany answered.

"Then we should go visit Amerika, da?", Russia spoke up, his trademark smile present behind his usual scarf. While England and America had been separated, the tentative friendliness between America and Russia had grown over the years, enough that America would often refer to him as Ivan, and vice versa. He was rather possessive of his little friend, the only one yet that wasn't afraid of him.

"I-It's not so simple as that, bloody fool! We can't just go visit the lad while his country is under lockdown!"

"Oh, well that is not seeming like such a problem. We are Nations, da? I do not think rules are the same for us." Russia's 'freaky-creepy-makes-me-wanna-run-according-to-Alfred' aura was slowly emerging. "I do not think that I would want to be anyone that tries to stop us, da?"

The other nations were quiet in thought, half for and half against the idea. Those that had come to the meeting earlier with a dislike for Alfred had quickly left- The meeting was about him after all. Only his friends were left.

"Well... It's not like those bloody morons can throw us in prison..." England started slowly, looking around at the other nations a bit nervously.

"Ja... It would cause war..."

"And America can't afford war right now, aru." China pointed out, shifting in his seat as his newly acquired panda munched on some bamboo from his lap.

"And America-san must want to see us."

"L'Amerique must be getting lonely by now, non? It has been two months since any of us got the chance to visit him." France and Canada- who was not present, unfortunately- had been planning on visiting him this coming weekend, actually. Alfred had called them last week, complaining about never getting to see them anymore.

"Ve~ He must miss us!"

"Then we are agreed, da?" Russia smiled widely. "We will visit Amerika, and if someone tries to stop us, then I will make them change their mind!"

Matthew had managed to get to his brother late Friday afternoon, after much negotiating with Alfred's suddenly uptight government. It had been Ms. Washington, the President herself, who had finally let him through- Apparently she'd been tending to his brother. He had found that a bit strange, but didn't question her.

However, now, he felt like becoming very violent with her.

He couldn't get Alfred to speak to him. At all. All his brother did upon seeing him was jump from his bed and cling to him, tucking his face into the crook of Mattie's shoulder.

He wasn't screaming, in fact, he was dead quiet. And that told Matthew that things weren't inconsolably terrible- but the simple fact that he was crying was enough to tell Matt enough. That women wasn't doing enough. That woman had done something wrong. He instinctively knew it, because she was Alfred's boss. New boss. It was too much of a coincidence.

And there was an odd scent all over Alfred.

He couldn't place it. And he hated it. He was beginning to get scared, well, more than he already was. He was just feeling protective and lost now. Alfred wasn't the silent sorrow type. He wasn't even the sorrow type. But here he was, breathless and weeping without tears.

It was down-right terrifying.

"A-Al, come on. Tell m-me what's going o-on?" Matthew said, holding Alfred close. He wondered if the rumors he'd heard cycling through his own government were true. Had Al's military really opened fire on the citizens? Matt could only imagine the pain. It was things like that which had driven Russia nuts.

He wondered if the others were trying to get to Alfred, too. Russia was especially protective of America now, and China had grown more fond of him over the last decade. England was a distant friend now- the two hadn't been getting along country-wise. Germany and Italy were very fond of America now, Italy was constantly coming over when he had the chance. France had become a bit distanced from Arthur, the Brit's government really was doing a shitty job at relations lately, and seemed to cling to Al instead.

Surely they would be coming? Surely Germany, with his powerful voice, could get Al to speak? Russia, who Alfred seemed strangely connected to, could comfort him? Alfred needed them. Matthew was afraid that his quiet self, so passive when compared to Alfred's shining personality, couldn't reach his hurting brother.

"A-Al? I-I'm sorry. Pl-please, just sa-say someth-ing", Matthew whimpered, burying his face into Alfred's shining blond hair. Again, that strange scent surfaced, like the scent of a hospital and bleach.

"S-She..."

Alfred clung to him tighter, though his strength seemed much less than normal. Less than an average human's, actually. And he was trembling like a leaf in an August windstorm.

"She?" Matthew prompted.

"She k-keeps burning them!" Alfred cried out, his voice ringing in the room, his body shuddering in a way that was painful just to look at. His eyes were wide as he pulled away, pain and terror evident in his features. His hands clenched onto the downy blanket and shook with agony, as if he were burning. And Matthew knew that perhaps he did feel like he was burning. He tried not to let his mind fill 'them' in.

Desperate to calm Alfred, Matthew grabbed his hand- and felt something cold and metallic. He ignored it in favor of drawing Alfred into his arms again, the desire to help nearly overwhelming him. He just wanted his brother to be okay.

It was minutes before America's ragged breathing lightened, before Matt felt safe holding him at arms length to inspect his hands. He at first didn't noticed what had made the metal sensation, to busy noticing the many cuts and bruises on Alfred's hands and fingers. When he did find what it was, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

There was a simple golden ring on Al's right ring finger. It seemed like a perfect fit- neither too loose, nor too tight. It did, however, look rather dented and mistreated.

"A-Al? W-What is this?", He asked, looking back up to his brother's eyes, which were securely locked upon the ring. Matthew couldn't understand, there was such an intense look of loathing in his brother's eyes. It made Mattie wonder if the cuts were from someone trying to force the ring back onto his brother's hand. The thought felt a little too right.

"Something I hate." Alfred whispered, and pulled his hand free, his face hidden beneath his fringe of blond hair.

Matthew's heart broke as Al fell onto the bed, his shirt scrunching beneath him and revealing the barest bit of hip and stomach- both of which were cut with tons of tiny, inch-long marks.

"A-Al..." Matthew whispered, settling down behind his quiet brother. He tentatively hung an arm around Alfred's waist, scooting close to the silent nation, hoping he wouldn't be ignored.

He softly held his breath as Alfred minutely stiffened, before his brother turned to face him and Matthew tucked him firmly into his chest, holding his hurting twin in his arms as they lay awake on the cold January night, and hoped for a better morning.