1942

'Tick tock, its five o'clock.'

Her hat was blown off by a bullet that just missed her head, letting her long hair free. It flowed around her face and back, catching a little in the collar of her large jacket. Her feet were caked in a dull mixture of muck and blood, staining her legs but she did not care.

The gun in her hand fired off, hitting an advancing solider square in the chest. He staggered backwards, eyes wide as he took in her face, realizing that a woman was on the battlefield. A flower grew from his chest, the crimson petals blooming against the dark colours of his uniform. He hit the ground, looking up into the sky.

She laughed; her lilac eyes bright as she took in the sea of bodies around, bending down to scavenge bullets from the corpses. Once the gun was full, she walked over the carcasses, revelling in the aftermath of what she had caused. Her, the one they all over looked. Her, the one always mistaken for him. She was the one who was there, shooting the enemy down. He was still at home, living in his bubble of stupidity.

A hand twitched under her foot.

She looked down, one brow raised in amusement, as her eyes locked onto the dull brown irises of the dying man below her.

'Who are you?' He whispered, his hand reaching up to touch her.

'Canada.' She smiled at him, looking beautiful despite the cuts and blood on her face.

She shot him in the head and skipped across the battlefield, merrily shooting anyone who got in her way.

'Tick tock 6o'clock.'

'Germany.' She sang, looking for the tall blonde man, her gun ready for whatever would happen.

2014

'Germany.'

The tall man froze; his blue eyes wide as he took in the petite, blonde girl. Her hair was tied back in two pigtails, bangs held back with maple leaf clips. In her hands, was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen: Canada's Prize Hockey Stick.

'Italy said you ate my pancakes, Germany. You shouldn't have done that.' She sang, hitting her hand with the end of the stick.

He screamed.

2014

'Arthur, did you just hear...?' America asked, brushing back the stray hairs on his forehead.

England was about to reply, when Italy came rushing in, his eyes wide as he grabbed Alfred's collar.

'ITOLDCANADAGERMANYHADEATENHERPANCAKES, ANDNOWSHEHASHERHOCKEYSTICKAND, SHEISTRYINGTOKILLHIMIATEHERPANCAKES!'

Arthur paled. Alfred groaned, as he realized what was going.

'Dude!' Alfred yelled.

'Bollocks!' Arthur took off running, hoping he could save Germany from the wrath of the pancake-less Canadian.