Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Every Fear

America wasn't always afraid of ghosts. And his horror movies aren't all to blame, either. Based off what I saw in "When England's Away."

America wasn't always afraid of ghosts.

Not even when he was little.

Not many know of the tale why,

They just tease him for it.

A secret kept between the North American twins,

Scarring them for life.

They never told anyone,

Not even France…

Or England.

America! "Nrgh…."

America! Wake up! Breakfast's ready!

Hurry up before Canada eats all the pancakes!

America creaked an eye open. The wooden ceiling of his and Canada's room came into sight. Also the the fuzzy face of England. The young colony yawn, stretched, and accidently hit England's face in the process.

"Sorry, Iggy."

England laughed a bit, patting America on the head. "It's fine, just please don't call me Iggy."

America immediately perked up. "Whatever you say, Iggy!"

England furrowed his 'caterpillar brows' and walked away mumbling something along the lines of 'children never learn.' He looked over his shoulder, and told the American " Well, breakfast's ready, there's a place saved for you."

"Alright!" America answered in the same cheerful and perky attitude, following his father figure to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, he found the usual scene.

Canada was happily digging into his pancakes, the small pastries being drowned by what must be a couple dozen cups of maple syrup. France was still at the counter, hand's moving what must be a mile a second, yet, it looked like he was hardly paying attention to what he was doing.

America took a seat next to his brother, happily digging into his pancakes as well. He had to say, even when there was no maple syrup, of any topping, the pancakes tasted delicious. Must be France's cooking… He thought, scarfing them down like he hadn't eaten in years.

England chuckled, patting America and Canada's back. "Just don't choke, you two."

"Ohonhonhon…" France laughed. "Awww… is England jealous?"

"Am not!"

"This is the quietest America has been during meals and you know it."

England sighed, admitting defeat. No going against that logic… "Anyway, France and I have to go on a business trip with a couple other countries. Just for a couple days."

America almost immediately almost choked. A wave of panic washed over him, making him drink an ungodly amount of water to wash it down. "Why are you leaving…?"

England ruffled his hair in an attempt to calm the boy down and prevent him for choking again. "It's just for a few days, don't worry, most likely just for the weekend..."

America gulped nervously… But I know what England does when does when he thinks I'm asleep, what he does in the cellar basement… He shuddered.

"It's alright America," told a quiet voice next to him. His violet pools poured reassuringly into his brother's. "Nothing will happen. It's just for two to three days…"

America nodded numbly. "Yeah."

~0~

Soon after England and France left, America decide to start exploring. Yes, he never liked it when England left, but like any other child without parental-like restraint, he decided to explore. Canada, being the opposite, quiet version of brother, and most likely less adventurous, decided to stay back in their room.

Entering England's office, where he said the key to their room was, but only in case of emergencies. Picking up the key key, he responded in his mind Better safe than sorry… Hearing a soft click, he spun on his heels, a difficult task, being on carpet.

Hey, this book wasn't here before… The book was weathered, old, and large. It looked like a Bible, but unlike a Bible, he could not understand it. Reading the word off the page, he murmured,

" Mutta, mitro…? Nico, aran?"

The book in his hands heat up at an alarming rate, causing America to drop the book in surprise. The book slammed closed and the whole room was enveloped in a blinding green light.

Light finally clearing, America shuffled slightly away from the book. Suddenly trying to investigate, he tried to open the book to no avail. It's like the pages are stuck together...

Stepping out into the hallway, he heard, a small, child like, and no less creepy giggling from the basement. Gulping he retreated back to where Canada was to get his opinion.

"Well, it's dark in the cellar, so you probably should take a candle…"

Taking a candle off the wall, he slowly walked downstairs. Hearing that creepy laughter sent a shiver down his spine. In the corner, there was a small, chucking girl, mumbling.

"Play with me… Play with me.. Play with me!" the girl screeched.

America held his candle defensively towards the girl. "N-No! I told want to play!"

"WrONg AnSWEr."

The girl advanced with inhuman like speed, toward the boy, holding a shard.

This was America's first encounter.

~0~

"I'm sorry, America. This isn't the first time you tried to scared me."

America choked, "But C-Canada! Th-There was this really creepy girl and- and..."

"I'm sorry, but I want to see. Or else I can't believe you."

"Yo-You- What?!"

"You heard me. I want to see."

And so America lead Canada down to the cellar. Just like in America's movies, she was gone, just like a ghost.

Just like a ghost.

The next day, America went exploring, trying to find any evidence that the ghost girl existed, to warn him. After much exploration of the house, he found his way back to the cellar, but found a tear in the wall paper. Tearing it off, he found a small storage room.

RUMBLE

RUMBLE

What was that!? Panic welling up in his chest, he tried to open the door. It was locked.

A ghost locked it.

The poor boy found a suspicious looking liquid- fresh blood?- on his way to his brother's room. Not being there, he heard a scream, coming from the lower floor.

Running down to his brother's voice, he found his brother in the library.

Another ghost.

"Canada, run!"

"But-"

Just go! I'll hold it off!"
During the next two days- their parent's trip took longer than expected- the brother's were attacked, cried, and were scared out of their senses. When England and France found then, they were in the attic, cowering, eyes red and puffy. They cried into their arms of the people that raised them, but never told what happened. After a while, they stopped asking.

Canada eventually got over it, not being chased around too many times.

America, however, felt guilty, and was subject of many of the ghost's attacks due to protecting his brother.

And he gained his fear of ghosts.