"Goodbye. For good." England pressed the gun further into Russia's skull, his unfocused eyes staring blindly forward. Russia only smiled. He slowly lifted his own gun upwards, trying to be as silent as possible about it. He brought it up England's head.

Looks like I'm not the only one who's going to die. He heard a curse fall from England's mouth as he pushed it against his temple, letting him know England is just as scared to die as he is. He stroked the trigger, ready to shoot.

"I won't chicken out because I'm going to die as well. I'm already blind and almost deaf. I'm useless. The only thing I can do now is save the rest from you." His words were followed by the cry of America telling England to drop the gun. The loud noise made Russia want to shoot America instead.

"Your beloved is shouting for you." Russia's mouth twisted into a cruel smile, not really expecting an answer.

"I know." The smile fell of his lips. He cursed through his teeth.

Fuck, he can hear that much. Russia violently pushed the gun further into England's head. England cursed again and returned the gesture.

America was still shouting for England to put the gun away. Russia was just about to shoot him when England snapped, telling him to shut up. Much to Russia's pleasure America obeyed and shut up. His twisted smile returned to his lips.

"If you pull the trigger I won't die right away. You know that, right? The angle of your gun is too far down." Russia happily told his enemy.

"I know." He could almost hear the unspoken words. It's the best I can aim without being able to see.

"You are aware that my angle will kill you right away?"

"Yes." Russia let out a laugh.

"Then let's pull the trigger together. I have no one to return home to and America is big enough to take care of himself. Neither of us are needed." He was well-aware of the tears that was rolling down England's cheek.

"I know."

"Then let's die together. I'll start the countdown." Russia shivered at the glimpse of hate that appeared in England's eyes whenever he spoke. "Five."

"Four." It took a while before England continued.

"Three."

"Two."

"One." Russia finished.

"Goodbye, America." They pulled the trigger at the same time, both falling to the floor. England was still looking forward, the only difference was the missing glimpse of hate. His cheeks were tear-stained and the tip of his nose was bright red, standing out from his otherwise pale skin. He looked beautiful.

America came running. Russia watched at he kneeled down and began to shake England's shoulders, calling his name.

"Brat." He whispered and closed his eyes, not even trying to stop his own tears. His cruel smile disappeared and was replaced with a sad smile. Telling the world he had lived a long and lonely life. That this was his only escape.

His goodbye.

A last thought ran through his mind as he felt himself slipping into the darkness.

I did love you, England. More than you will even know.