A/N: Okay, so this is going to be a series of dark!Hetalia oneshots... Most of which will be about America. OTL However, this one happens to be about Canada. Please ignore how bad & overdone this one is ;A; The others I have planned are MUCH better. Like the next one... OH HO HO, THE NEXT ONE... C:=

I apologize for fail expression of accents ._. And for Google Translate fails... I TRIED. ;A;

This is placed during the Great Depression (June 1933, during the "London Monetary and Economic Conference" [G20 in London :P], to be exact ._.) I guess, and quite a bit of it is actually VERY historically accurate ^~^ (I am so proud of mahself~)
...But some of it isn't.
You'll know what I mean after you read it/reading the first sentence.

Can You Hear Me Now?

Canada shivered with the feel of the cold steel in his hand, but his lip quivered with his thoughts.

"I don't think I can do this..." he whispered.

"Who're you?" the little bear Kumajiro asked.

"I'm Canada!" A bit of anger warmed his face at his own pet's lack of knowing his name, though he himself didn't know the bear's. But at least he tried. After all, it was why he was here, really. It certainly wasn't to be ignored again.

This time, they'll listen... Or else. This time I need them to, so they will. I won't even have to use the gun; just the threat of it'll work. It'll be okay; no one will die today. Right? Right!

Canada comforted himself with his thoughts as he entered the world meeting room for this year's G20 Summit. It was in England this year.

"Mattieu!" France greeted him as soon as he entered the room, and Canada, grateful, sighed in relief.

See? Today's different. I'll be able to speak my mind without violence.

"You look thin! Eat more," France said, "Or you'll nevar get notized by ze ladies!" He winked, and Canada blushed slightly, but he was used to his Papa being this way.

"Papa, I-"

"There's le Angleterre! His awful cooking almozt made me puke! Thoz things, ze 'scones', zey should be classified as lethal weapons!" Canada sighed as France ranted as he ran off towards England, no doubt to badger him.

Well, that's just Papa. He'll do anything to piss off Iggy. He still noticed me; it'll still be okay...

Canada took his seat as the other present countries began to make their way towards their seats, though the constant chatter didn't cease. After about ten minutes, he braced himself for the inevitable.

"GOTTVERDAMMT! ALL OV YOU, SHUT THE HELL UP FOR VUNCE! I SHOULD THINK THAT BY NOW, I VOULDN'T HAVE TO DO THIS, BUT YOU ALL NEVER LEARN! WE ARE NATIONS, VE SHOULD BE ABUV THIS! BUT SINCE IT SEEMS THAT I AM THE ONLY VUN HERE THAT CAN BE MATURE, I'M GOING TO LAY DOWN THE RULES! Now, iv you vant to speak, raise your hand. You vill hav five minutes, maximum, to argue your point, and no more!"

Canada tentatively raised his hand, but he felt slightly put off when he was ignored, his brother once again outshining him.

"Yes, America," Germany sighed, sitting back down.

"Um, guys, I'm in a really bad situation at the moment... Economically... And, as you know, I've already raised tariffs on imports..."

Canada clenched the hand grip of the gun in his pocket. The quiet country raised his other arm higher, hoping to be noticed, but he was still ignored. What, he thinks he's the only one who's in trouble? Papa's wearing less expensive clothes, Germany's still using his tattered uniform from the World War, Iggy's having to work off his debt to America... And I'm here, starving to death! He's not the only one with problems, and practically cutting off trade with the rest of the world doesn't help anyone! He fingered the gun in his pocket, loosening his white-knuckle grip, knowing he had the solution for America's complaining. But it won't come to that.

"The rest of us aren't doing well either, you moronic wanker! Why don't you think about someone other than yourself for once!"

"Hey, man, you owe me money!"

"Well I'm just as bad off as you; I don't have any money to give you!"

"Britain, I sti-"

"Well, Angelterre, if you owe ze Amérique money, you should pay him back~" France smirked.

"THE Amérique? !" America looked offended, but he was ignored.

About time.

"Stay out of this, French twit! Besides, Germany owes him money as well! Go bother him! At least maybe then you'll get some sense knocked into you!"

Germany growled, his hot temper again being fed by the other countries, and turned to Japan. Canada overheard something about leaving the League of Nations, and Japan was nodding. Japan had already sent notice that after the Economic Conference, he was going to be leaving the League.

It's because they both know nothing gets done at these damned things...

"I need money, guys, and you owe me. A lot. And France, you've got war debts to pay; just like England." America, serious for once, sighed.

"Well none of uz have any money!"

"Exactly my point, dumbass!" America yelled, exasperated.

Canada attempted to make eye contact with a few of the quieter countries like Japan, Greece, Estonia, etc., but they were all focused on the fights going on around them.

His Papa, his brother, and his 'mama' were fighting... Cuba was too distracted with throwing names and accusations at America to notice him... Insults were flying, and Canada took offence as if they were being aimed at him. Here he was, with an actual, current, dyer-need problem, and they were fighting over ancient rivalries. Germany was about to explode again, but Canada beat him to the punch.

Before he could rationalize a thought he had pulled the loaded gun from his pocket, shut the safety off, and cocked it.

"MON DIEU, TOUT LE MONDE, FERME TA GUEULE!"

Suddenly, all eyes were on him; some wide and fearing, others just surprised.

"Thank you, I-"

Italy leaned over towards Germany and whispered to him fearfully, though the pair were close enough to Canada that he could hear him. "Who's that?"

"I'm Canada!" the unusually loud country roared, then continued in a quieter, wavering voice, though it still commanded attention. To Canada, even though he knew it was an awful thing he was doing, it felt good. It felt good to let go of everything that had built up over the years and finally be noticed. His hand holding the gun shook, but it didn't stop him. "And all I want right now is your attention..." He took a deep breath, loosening his grip on the trigger. "Look, I'm starving, I just need a little help, even just a thousand dollars would be enough... I know all of you are suffering as well, but maybe if we all just work together for once, we-"

"Bro, I dunno about the rest of these losers, but I've got my own shit, I can't take care of... Canwhatshisface's."

Canada jerked around to face his brother, rage clear in his voice. "MY NAME IS CANADIA!"

Above his own voice, though, another sound was to be heard; the loud bang of a gunshot The blue-eyed nation's eyes widened ad America's shirt grew dark with blood.

Canada stared, shocked, at his brother's body as many countries, England being the first, ran to the now-dead nation.

"A-Alfred..."

He lowered his head in grief. His voice was shaking, as was the rest of him, but after a few seconds a thought occurred to him.

He can't outshine you anymore. He can't make countries angry so they can't mistake you for him and attack you. He can't be the cause of anymore arguments. And the best thing? The best thing is that now he'll never forget you.

Slowly, a wicked smile panned across Canada's face. France approached him, cooing about how it was okay; about how it was just an accident.

"Or was it?" Canada smirked, cocking the gun and aiming it at France.

"Mon Dieu! M-M-Mattieu, please, s'il vous plaît, don't do zis! I'll-"

Wordlessly, Canada swung his arm and his eyes toward Poland, pulling the trigger and sending a bullet into his head.

"It's a pity, he was always so self-involved... I'm actually quite a good shot, considering I don't use these much, aren't I, Papa?" With a grin, he cocked the gun again.

"Mattieu, please..." France looked horrified, and it seemed difficult for him to wrench his eyes from Poland's body, but when he did, he looked Canada in the eyes. "You don't have to keep doing zis, Canada, it's not-"

Suddenly, Germany was there, knocking the Frenchman out of the way with a curt "Sorry, Francis." He went for the hand Canada was holding the gun with, but Canada jumped back, throwing his chair in Germany's way with the hand not holding the gun. Germany skillfully dodged the chair, getting ready to tackle Canada to the ground, but Canada fired a single shot into his head and he fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Italy, who was hiding under the table, screamed as he came practically face-to-face with Germany.

"Doitsu!"

Canada bent down to see under the table and sent a bullet into Italy's chest. "He shouldn't be left to suffer. Besides, he never shared his happiness with me." He then turned back to France, who was on the ground now, paralyzed with shock and stuttering.

"M-M-M-Ma-M-"

"Shhh," Canada cooed, putting a finger on France's lips. "Don't worry, you're last~"

France stuttered about something unrecognizable as Canada continued on his rampage, reloading a total of eight times. France began to wonder if maybe Canada had planned this; there was no way he'd just have a gun on him along with eight extra rounds of ammunition. A few countries managed to escape the building, and France tried to move, but he just couldn't seem to. After a while he quit trying and began to think about how this was his fault; about how he should have listened more to his Mattieu... Before he became so very not 'his Mattieu'.

After many minutes, Canada came back to his Papa, gripping him by his once-expensive and stylish collar.

"Merci, Papa." Canada spoke to France in sweet French; a language of love. He grinned as he put the tip of the barrel to France's chest. "Only one more left, Papa. And guess who it's for~? You love him very much, you do. More so than anyone else. But he never really could keep you company, could he? He's so selfish... But don't worry, Papa. I'll get him for you~ Just one little bullet and you'll never have to see him again~ Isn't it wonderful?~" Suddenly, the wide, crazed grin on Canada's face was replaced by deranged rage as he shoved France away from him. "CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW, PAPA? DO YOU SEE ME? AM I STILL INVISIBLE?"

France tried to reply, but before he could there was another loud bang as the bullet entered his heart and exited through his shoulder. The older man slumped and Canada caught his body, sinking to his knees with the extra weight. "Can you hear me now, Papa?" Canada whispered in France's ear.

He sat there for several minutes, holding the Frenchman's body, as thoughts began to run through his head.

They're all gone. And YOU killed them.

N-No, I-

They had it coming.

But they didn't deserve it!

Really? Of all the times you tried to speak; tried to do ANYTHING, how many times did they pay attention?

W-Well... That doesn't give me the right to kill them! They're nations!

Well now you get to take care of them, don't you? You can pay one last kindness to them. Which is one more than they ever gave to you.

No... It... It can't be justified! Brother, Iggy, Papa... All my friends... They're all dead! They... They didn't deserve it... No one deserves...

Canada began to sob over his Papa's body, clutching it in his arms, the gun laying forgotten a little ways away.

Suddenly there was rapid banging at the door. "Open this door!"

Canada ran for the window at the back of the room, which was only a few meters away. Tears streamed down his face, but he was smiling. He threw open the window as the door was kicked in and several men in police uniforms surged in, guns aimed at Canada.

"Sir, please step away from the window and put your hands up!"

Canada ignored the men and stepped onto the windowsill, wobbling slightly as he turned to face his audience. He closed his eyes and tipped backward, feeling the rush of the wind in his hair and between his fingertips as he fell.

They'd never forget him now.

He whispered it to himself, one last time.

"Can you hear m-"

A/N: And that is how Canada achieved world domination.

...

Temporarily.