Everything was destroyed. This was the first fact that registered in Canada's mind as he stepped into his brother America's house, that everything had been destroyed. He knew this the state of destruction at the house meant one thing, that they had found America.
They were an unnamed group of terrorists that had found out about nation personifications and did not like the idea. They had decided, just recently, to kill off all the nations, but Canada had been the only one to overhear the plans. None of the other nations would hear him when he spoke, even if what he spoke about was a fact that could lead to their deaths.
To solve this problem and to get everyone to hear what was about to happen, Canada had planned to tell America and get him to tell the others, but now, stepping over all of the fallen items in America's Victorian style home, Canada knew that they knew where America lived, and that if he was not dead already, they would be coming back soon to kill him.
Canada heard a whimper from the closet and went towards the sound carefully. If America was scared, either a ghost was thought to be near or something bad had just happened. Based on the state of the house and what Canada knew, he would have bet on the latter.
He opened the closet door and fell over from the weight of the nation that fell on top of him, "America. America!" He tried to yell out, slightly surprised that his voice reached louder than usual, "America, you need to get out of here. You need to tell the other nations about the terrorist group."
America did not react, "Please America, it's the only way to save everyone's lives, to be a hero."
This got a reaction out of the more southern nation. His eyes widened and he started to shake his head widely. Canada watched America's lips move, and he bent down more to listen to what his brother had to say, "Not a hero. Can't save anyone. Not a hero. Can't save anyone." He repeated the two sentences over and over in a lowered, husky voice at a slow pace. His own custom made death march.
Canada had heard stories of the terrorists breaking their victims mentally before killing them physically. He had never believed that until he saw America, now rocking back and forth, muttering those words to himself. "What did they do to you America?" Canada shook his head. That was not important at the time. What was important was getting America out, but to do that, America would need to be functioning.
Without much time, Canada did the first thing that came to mind to break his twin brother out of his trance, so he slapped America across the face. Multiple times. On the fourth hit, America started to defend himself, by the sixth, he was stopping Canada completely.
Canada put his hand down and sighed in relief, America was defending himself. America should be fine enough to get out, "America. We need to get you out of here before they come back."
America shook his head no, his blond hair falling in his eyes and Nantucket was falling, "No."
"What do you mean no?" Canada asked, trying to figure out why America would not want to get out of here, where someone would soon be to kill him.
"They have the place surrounded," America said slowly, thinking through every word.
"Surrounded?" Canada started talking to himself, "So they didn't see me get in, typical."
"They'll know. They said they were coming back soon to kill me."
"I know that America. They're planning on killing all the nations soon."
"They said that they would let my family live if I went quietly," he whispered, realizing that it all must have been a lie to get him to be silent.
Canada shook his head, pity for his brother filling him up, "They would never truly mean that."
"I could hope."
"Only you and I know about their plans to kill everyone though."
"Really, you didn't tell anyone?"
Canada shook his head, "They couldn't see or hear me. I need to get you out of here so that you can tell them."
"How?" America asked, truly looking up for the first time. His blue eyes were hollow.
"We'll switch places. You leave as Canada and I stay as America. You'll get to leave safe, and I'll stay here to confuse them."
"How?" If America kept on saying that, he would sound like a broken record.
"We'll change clothes. I'll cut my hair. We'll style yours differently. We just got to get you out of there."
"What will happen to you?"
This made Canada pause and think, "I don't know America. I just know that you need to get out and to warn the others, that they are coming."
America nodded his head, "This will be dangerous. They're not afraid to kill on sight."
"I know, but that's a risk we'll have to take."
"I don't want to put you in danger. You're my only brother."
"I'm Canada, I'll be reborn."
"You're still my brother. I want to protect you."
"Don't forget, you're my brother too. Plus, I want to protect everyone."
America nodded slowly before standing up, "You'll be a hero."
"You will too, if you can warn everyone about them." Canada also stood up and leaned over and hugged his brother. "Let's get ready." He started to take off his outer layer of clothing, laying it out for America to put on. He grabbed the clothes that America had laid out in front him and put them on.
A few minutes later, the two nations had switched clothing and glasses, so all that was left was for them to change their hair. Canada had already done all he could to make America's hair like his own, even though the length made the styling hard. All he had left to do was cut off his own hair. He grabbed the scissors, but hovered over the end of his hair, not truly wanting to cut off his hair that he spent so long growing and styling.
"Here." America said, placing his hand over Canada's and guiding the scissors. "Done." Canada glanced at the mirror and fixed the last detail. He hid his curl, which for once stayed where he put it, and put more strands up in a cow lick.
"Ok, America, once I'm in the closet, run out the door. Get as far away from here as you can, don't look back no matter what you hear, and warn the others about what is coming after them. Got that?" America nodded his head when they both heard the front door slam open. "Run America" he whispered before quickly moved into the closet.
America raced out the back door while trying to be as quiet as possible. He heard Canada scream as he ran away from his old house, but he paid no attention to Canada, as he had been told to do, instead he started running faster. He did not stop when he heard the yells of outrage, they had found out that Canada was in front of them instead of America, but he kept on running as fast as he could to warn the other nations.
He only stopped when he heard the bang of an unsilenced gun, but he did not go back. That would be destroying his twin's sacrifice. Instead, he had to keep on going and warn the other nations about them, the terrorists. Hopefully, nobody else would die, even if only for a short period of time if he could make it to them alive.
So, to any readers of mine out there. Apologies for basically disappearing on everyone, but I was working on NaNoWriMo. I actually finished this, two other shorts, Nation's Star Whale, finished another story, and good a good chunk done with another during NaNo this year. This is the only one out of everything I've edited, so here. I hope you enjoy this one shot. Please review, especially if you see anything wrong. I also do not own Hetalia. Thank you for reading.