"Let me take over." A voice whispered from within the confines of his mind. England shook his head desperately, and tried to push Him away, away, away. He was desperate to win this war, but not desperate enough to release Him.
Silence. England shuddered in relief and curled into himself. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't. He was strong. He was the British Empire. He could deal with this war without Him. He couldn't let Him out. Not again. Never again.
"Soon." It whispered with a voice full of dark promises. He giggled and retreated back into the darkness and past the Gate.
England sobbed. He cried for his people. He weeped for his land. And he grieved for himself.
xxx
"We're losing this war."
England flinched at the coldness in His tone. His hand shook on the maps in front of him and he flattened his palm against them to still the tremors. He stared at his cities, his borders, his seas and he clenched his jaw as He pushed against the barriers England had put up.
"Let me take over." He insisted and England shook his head resolutely as he stared blankly at his land.
"Let me." He murmured persuasively and England shook his head again. He didn't need protection. He didn't need to be saved. He didn't need Him.
"No." He said, and picked up a figurine as he stared down at his land. He could do this on his own. He was strong enough. He could do this. He had his allies. He had that frog. Kind of.
xxx
He didn't.
The French have surrendered. France has surrendered.
England stared blankly at his map and tried not to scream. He was alone. He was ally-less.
"I'm still here, poppet." The demon inside him sang. England clenched his fists and glared.
He didn't need him.
xxx
Pain. Death. Screams. Cries. Pleads for help. Gunshots.
His people were dying. Innocent people were dying, because they weren't bloody fast enough. England let out a broken sob and curled into himself. He was failing his people. Their nation couldn't save them from the bombs of the Blitz and their blood from spilling.
It is the Battle of London.
xxx
"How desperate are you?" Germany-no, Not Germany asked, his cold red eyes freezing England to the bone.
"You can't handle this war." Not Germany sneered. England scowled and stood his ground as Germany circled around him. "Not without Him."
Not Germany chuckled darkly and England flinched as the sound resonated in the empty room.
"The RAF are defending my cities as we speak. You will not defeat us." England replied coldly. Not Germany's lip twitched as he regarded England.
"No. Defeating you wasn't the point." Not Germany said, smiling slightly. England stared at Germany blankly and tried not to reveal his confusion.
"I just wanted your people to suffer." Not Germany revealed, laughing loudly. England clenched his fists, eyes hardening as he trembled slightly.
Not Germany's leader was a cruel tyrant who had warped his nation's mind. Germany wouldn't allow this if he was himself. But he wasn't. Not Germany was in control. England couldn't do that; he couldn't let his people down like that.
"Seeing the quality of your planes was a bonus." Not Germany sneered. England glowered.
He couldn't let himself sit back and watch as He killed and destroyed more than necessary. This war had killed so many already. He couldn't afford for more of his people's blood to be spilled. It was his duty.
The door creaked open, and England stiffened. He raised his head, blood running cold at the sight of cool purple eyes and auburn hair. Not Italy. Not Germany smirked at his ally and He smiled, white teeth sharp and dangerous. England shuddered and looked away.
"Let the big boys handle this." Not Germany said softly, before he backed away and left the room with Not Italy.
He couldn't.
xxx
"Let me take over."
England shook his head and reloaded the gun in his hands. He took a deep breath and leaned to his side, firing blindly.
"Let me take over."
A bullet grazed his hand and he hissed, pulling the gun and his hand back towards himself. He looked at the blood and watched idly as it knitted back together and healed.
"Let me take over."
England glared and rolled to his side before running into the storm of bullets, firing and reloading, firing and reloading. An endless cycle of pain and death.
Bullets tore into him, pierced his limbs, killed him. And yet, he was still here, still running and shooting. It was their Curse. They couldn't leave, not while they had a duty. A bullet pierced his chest, and England froze, vision blacking out as his heart pulsed angrily. That didn't mean that their life never slipped away from them.
He bent over and grabbed at his chest uselessly, eyes wide as he wheezed in pain. His muscles twitched and started to heal as they knitted back together and forced the bullet out. His ribs pushed against each other and melded back into one, bone creaking slightly. England squeezed his eyes shut and spasmed as the bullet fell out of his chest. In his distraction, his mind opened and He took over.
He pushed his way out of the barriers and England stilled in shock as He forced his way to the front of England's consciousness. His mind shoved England's into the back of his head and England's eyes widened in realization.
He screamed and banged on the Gate, horror filling him as He closed the Gate against England's fists. No, no, no! He had to get back in control, he had to keep Him locked up. How could he have let this happen? How could he have been so weak?
Not Him laughed and fired his last round of shots into the Italian soldiers skilfully, a huge smile splitting his face in amusement as blood blossomed on their chests. The remaining soldiers dispersed, white flag raising in surrender. He watched from inside his mind as the soldiers retreated and left the battlefield, his eyes wide as he tried to find a way back to control.
He screamed from his prison and kicked and shoved at the locks that were rising and wrapping around the gate. How could this have happened? He was a bloody idiot.
He stared at the emptiness they caused to North Africa and shook slightly. They won. But He won too. He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around himself in an effort to stop the tremors. He was trapped inside. Not Him was in control.
"Sir." General Waffel said, touching his shoulder slightly. Not Him smiled at the destruction and England shook his desperately as he pushed uselessly against the locks. No. Wetness gathered in his eyes and he squeezes his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall.
"Yes?" Not Him replied pleasantly as he turned to face England's General. Waffel froze in shock and England let the tears come as horror and recognition darkened his General's eyes.
Pale blue eyes and vibrant pink flecks flashed and Not Him smiled.
"Hello, General. It's nice to meet you."
xxx
"The Axis have returned to North Africa." His General said seriously. Not Him nodded and brushed back his hair to stare at the maps laid in front of him.
"And the arms from the US?" Not Him asked calmly as he shifted the map of Germany to one of Russia. His lips twitched and England glared at the darkness as he giggled.
"They have arrived." His General said slowly, furrowing his eyebrows as he stared at the map of Russia in confusion. "Sir, are we informing the USSR of the possibility of an invasion?"
"And the US? Is darling America here with them?" Not Him asked, smiling at His General as he ignored his question. His General shook his head and frowned. England's blood ran cold at the mention of his friend.
"He does not wish to get involved. As you've told us." General replied. Not Him nodded and sighed slightly, before he reached underneath the table and procured a bright pink cupcake.
"Cupcake?" Hs asked sweetly. England froze at the sight of bright pink icing and shook his head as he started to push on the Gate. No, no, no. Say no, General, please. His General stared at the confection and nodded slowly. No!
Not Him smiled darkly and pushed the cupcake towards his General. England's jaw clenched and he leaned against the Gate, shaking it one last time.
He closed his eyes and tried not to scream as his General bit into the cupcake and choked, eyes wide as he grabbed his throat and fell to the floor? His General wheezed for air, horrible sounds coming from his throat as it locked up.
Not Him watched as the life drained away from his General's eyes, humming slightly as the man finally stopped struggling, his finger twitching slightly.
Not Him giggled and grabbed the cupcake from his General's still hand, biting into it as he smiled at his General. England dropped his head to the Gate and let out a choked cry.
"Incompetent." He reprimanded his wide-eyed General. "America was supposed to be here."
He sighed and went back to the maps.
xxx
"England." Russia remarked in surprise, eyes narrowing slightly once he sees the pale blue of his eyes. His leader looks up at him and raises an eyebrow at his tone.
"Russia." Not Him replied, smiling mischievously. Russia smiles back, and England wonders why his eyes aren't red. He bites his lip as Russia sits down with Stalin in front of Not Him and his Prime Minister and outright stares.
"Is there a problem?" Not Him asked mildly and England flinched at the danger in his tone. Russia smiles slightly.
"I haven't seen you since the first War." Russia replied simply. Stalin sighs and gives Not Him and his Prime Minister a look. Yes. When England broke. He remembered.
"We had an agreement with Germany." He said seriously. England scoffed. They did.
His Prime Minister nodded. "We know."
"And they invaded me, sadly. Thus, breaking that agreement." Russia said. He frowned and tilted his head to blink at Not Him.
"Did you know about this?" He asked. Not Him blinks at that and shakes his head. "No, no, poppet. Of course not."
He did know.
"...Okay." Russia said slowly. "We're thinking of a mutual alliance treaty. And an Eastern front battle, too, of course."
Not Him smiled. "That's perfect."
"Cupcake?" He purred as he reached underneath and pulled out the sugary treat. Russia laughs slightly and smiles at Him in amusement.
"I know your tricks. No thank you. We'll be off, da?" Russia said cheerfully. Not Him sighs and nods as he pulls back the cupcake and hides it. Stalin watches him with narrowed eyes and He smiles.
"Yes. Welcome to the war, Russia."
xxx
"America has still not joined the war." Not Him mused thoughtfully as he stared at England. England glowered at the impostor through the Gate separating the two of them.
"I suppose I should talk to him, hmm?" He suggested. England sneered. "He would want to join the war even less. He wouldn't dare to work with you."
Not Him smiled easily. "Unless He takes over."
England's jaw clenches at the implication and he scowls darkly. Not Him laughed in amusement.
"Or," Not Him chirped. "He has to retaliate."
England frowned at that. "What? What do you mean?"
Not Him smiled and started to fade as he giggled. England stared at flashing blue eyes, his stomach twisting worriedly until He was gone.
He hoped that America would be fine.
xxx
December 6, 1941
"America."
America froze and stared down at his desk. England. Damn it. He didn't want to see England get hurt, he really didn't. He did love him, but weren't the weapons he'd been supplying enough? He's helped the Allies already. He couldn't afford his people to get hurt in this war. His people always came first. Before England, before the Allies, before his pride. England had to understand that.
He sighed and looked up, ready to apologize once more and explain that he couldn't join the war.
"England, I told you, I don't-." His words caught in his throat as blue met blue. He closed his mouth and clenched his jaw. His heart beat painfully against his chest and he flinched as Not England smiled dangerously.
"I want to talk to Him." Not England said softly. America clenched his fists as He started to rouse from within his mind. He waited for the inevitable and when He finally awoke, his entire body stiffened in preparation. He kicked at the gate and America took a deep breath as He started to tear and attack the Gate in an effort to get out. His mental shields rose and he pushed back against Him in a desperate attempt to keep him in.
"Let me out." Not Him growled harshly and slammed against the Gate. America shuddered as it shook and reverberated around his mind. He pressed on his temple as his head started to ache. He reinforced the locks and the barriers against his consciousness over and over again, mind racing as it tried to keep up with the destruction He was causing.
His gate was weak. Not Him had been attacking relentlessly the past few days and America was just so tired from fighting against his own mind. But he couldn't give up. He was the hero. He had to keep fighting even if it was useless.
Not England tilted his head to stare at the American who had a war waging inside his own mind. He chuckled slightly in bemusement and America hissed.
"He's a stubborn one, isn't he?" Not England remarked, smiling at America. America scowled and didn't look up from his desk. He wasn't sure who the hell He was talking to, damn it.
Not England stalked closer towards him and America pushed back his chair to get away. Not England placed a hand on his desk and jumped over it, smiling widely. America shook his head and clenched his fist on his hair as he squeezed his eyes shut.
Not England pushed him roughly and America toppled backwards, head slamming against the floor. He cried out, vision blacking out and switching to Him at the other side of the gate. He stared, his eyes wide at the sight of blood-red eyes and dark red hair fighting against his barriers.
"Let me out, bastard!" Not Him screamed as he slammed his whole body against America's crumbling defenses. It broke and America yelled in alarm as he stumbled backwards.
Not Him attacked and leaped on him to bring them both to the floor. Not Him grinned, red eyes glinting dangerously. America squeezed his eyes shut and He grabbed America's shirt to haul them both up. America struggled, and kicked at Him.
Not Him laughed darkly and threw him through the mending Gate. America landed on his back and flinched before he scrambled to stand up and run to the Gate.
Not Him smirked and slammed the repaired Gate closed, locks and barriers rebuilding themselves on his command. America let out a strangled scream as the Gate closed against him. Fuck!
Not Him waved jauntily and faded into the darkness. America kicked at the Gate and pushed against it uselessly, squeezing his eyes shut. He had to keep fighting. But he had to see why He was there.
He watched as He and Not England greeted each other like old friends, tension running underneath their easy words. Not England wasn't welcome here, not now. Even He agreed with that. America watched as the pair conversed.
"What do you want?" Not Him scowled. Not England smiled and stepped closer towards Him. Not Him raised an eyebrow as He raised a hand and flattened it against his chest. Not Him leaned into his touch, an interested glint in his eyes.
"Your help in this war." Not England purred. Not Him stiffened at that and glared. He backed away and took off Texas to throw it at the desk. America flinched as it skidded past the edge and fell to the floor. Not Him reached behind him to the bookcase and pulled out a pair of shades.
"Fuck you. No." Not Him scowled as he slipped the shades on and pushed it up to his hair. What? Why? Didn't he want war? Didn't he want to see the blood and suffering of countless people at his hands? America's eyes narrowed in confusion.
"Not our people." Not Him said to him simply and America swallowed nervously at the sincerity of his words.
"Think about it." Not England murmured persuasively. Not Him sneered and tilted his head as he regarded Him.
"You and me? Winning over Germany, Italy and Japan?" Not England said, smiling in excitement as his eyes lit up. Not Him stared flatly at the Brit and raised an eyebrow mockingly. Not England sighed and tiptoed slightly to brush his lips across his jaw.
"You and me. Alone. Together." He breathed suggestively. Not Him seemed to consider that for a moment, his hand rising up to press on the small of Not England's back. Finally, he shook his head in disagreement. Not England's jaw clenched and He smirked.
He chuckled darkly and pulled Not England away with that same hand. "No. We've been supplying you weapons. Isn't that enough?"
Not England smiled. "No. Your soldiers would be a bigger help, love, you know that."
Not Him smirked and lead Him by the small of his back to the door. "Yes. But we won't join the war."
Not England sighed at that and stopped just as they reached the door. Not Him raised an eyebrow and He smiled dangerously, eyes flashing. America stiffened. He was planning something. He knew something that the two of them didn't.
"Mhmm. Okay, then." Not England said regretfully. Not America nodded and rolled his eyes. A smile full of dark promises split His face. Fear and adrenaline rushed through America at that and he stared at the sharpness of Not England's teeth.
"Hawaii is nice this time of year, yes?" Not England asked, eyes dark with something neither America nor He could identify. Not Him frowned at that and nodded slowly. "Yes. Planning to take a break from killing and destroying?" He asked in amusement.
Not England smiled and America swallowed nervously.
"No. Tomorrow will be a blast, that's all."
xxx
"You didn't tell him." England hissed, staring at Him in anger. Not Him laughed.
"He didn't join the war." He replied simply, giggling slightly. England squeezed his eyes shut and turned his back on Him.
"But, love, he'll finally join the war tomorrow!" Not England chirped excitedly, smiling at his back. England clenched his jaw and glared at the empty darkness in front of him
"I hate you." He hissed. America was going to get hurt and he could have stopped it. This was all his fault. He turned back to glare at Him and He grinned as their eyes met.
Not Him laughed brightly as he started to fade away and England grit his teeth as He slowly joined the darkness. His last words shook England to the core and he stared in anger at the Gate and the empty darkness that lay beyond it.
"All's fair in blood and war."
He screamed.
Finis.
xxx
So. Much different from my last 2P fic. I haven't posted anything in a while, so apologies. I'm working on a lot of things, and I'm almost finished with two chapters for my other stories. Almost being the keyword. This is complete, by the way. Also, I just started school a few days ago, so I'll be very busy, I suppose. My birthday's on Monday though, so yay!
I know that ending is like, "What the fuck, man? How can that be the end?" But I like trolling and writing those kinds of endings, so yeah. :D Open endings are awesome.