Romano just stared in shock. "What do you mean, 'replaced?'"

Spain leaned in to his ear, lips barely touching Romano's cheek. "By coming with me," he whispered, "You've forfited your right to represent South Italy."

Romano pushed Spain weakly. "...Get away from me..." This was not good. As far as he knew, he was the last original on the planet. He felt like the world's safety rested on him, and him alone. But how could he keep the world safe if he couldn't even keep his own brother and boyfriend safe? He was pathetic.

Spain seemed to sense this. he grabbed Romano's wrists and gently kissed him. "It'll be fine. Everything will be alright." He looked slightly startled with his words, and let go of Romano's wrists. Both of their arms fell to their sides.

"Can you stop kissing me? You're no Spain to me." Romano felt really angry right now, but knew that if he did something, he would most likely be killed. He wasn't that stupid. He lowered his head, chin resting on his chest. "Why don't you go kiss your Romano?"

Spain's breath hitched in his throat as he was about to say something. Instead, he cleared his throat and turned to Roma, taking a few steps before halting. He then turned back to Romano and stared. With one last sigh, he walked to where his ax was, still in the tree, and pulled it out with little effort. He held it, hovering it above the ground, in one hand. "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable, Romano. Come here," Spain ordered, pointing to the ground next to his feet.

Romano complied, afraid for his life.

Spain handed Romano his ax.

Now, Romano had never held Spain's ax before. He assumed it couldn't be that heavy. Seeing how Spain handled it, like a deadly feather floating in the air, he never would have imagined it to be super heavy. So, Romano was very suprised when Spain handed him his ax (well, more shoved it at him) and he nearly fell to the ground it weighed so much.

As Romano stumbled backwards, arms reeling, Spain neatly plucked his ax from Romano and caught him by the front of the shirt. Spain pulled Romano to his feet, helping him balance himself. He then tucked his ax under his arm like a morning news paper and walked off, whistling.

Romano was shaking at Spain's obvious ploy to show off his strength, and how weak Romano was in comparison. Why would Spain do that? Romano took a deep breath and looked toward the darkening sky. He pulled out the image of Spain's dead body and reminded himself that this was not the Spain he knew and loved. Oh, no. This was a Spain who had almost killed him.

Romano remembered, as he was trying to console himself, that he didn't know what to do as of now. "Oi! Spain!" He called after the retreating form. "What am I going to do now? Stay out here and freeze to death? Are you going to take me somewhere?"

With that, Spain raised a hand to his mouth and shouted. The words were inaudible to Romano, so he just stood still.

Not soon after Spain shouted, Romano's eyes were covered with a black cloth, and a wet rag went over his mouth.

Romano knew what was happening. This was not the first time Romano had been kidnapped. Ottoman had tried many-a-time. But Spain had always saved him. This time, there was no Spain. Just the fuzzy smell of the chloroform. Romano didn't even try to struggle. He let himself be dragged away by the sickly sweet chemical scent and the hands that were under his arms.

XxXxXxX

Canada was scared. Like, really scared.

He hadn't been scared when he had heard Alfred's car roll into his driveway. He hadn't been scared when he heard the door of his car slam. He hadn't been scared when he heard the door of his house click open. He hadn't even been scared when the door of his study had been thrown open.

He got scared when he saw who it was.

Three men were in his room. Two were standing, and one was slung over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes and screaming through a gag.

One of the standing men was wearing a bomber jacket, his hair was brown. He was wearing red sunglasses and had a baseball bat with nails in it. America was over his shoulder. The other looked like Canada wearing a Mountie uniform. He had sunglasses as well, but his were black. He had a pony tail and a hokey stick.

"Hey," Mr. New Canada said. "Vacate." And with that, Canada was picked up by the waist and was dragged out to the car. He was bound and gagged, then rudely tossed into the trunk beside his brother.

The two mumbled to each other, trying to figure out what was going on.

They quieted as the two in the front seat began to talk.

"Hey, Al."

"Yes, Matt?"

"I think we should keep Canada. He's really adorable. Plus, what harm can he do? It's not like he'll be able to talk for a few days."

What did he mean by that?

"I guess. With what we're going to do with America back there."

Both of the boys in the back eyes' widened as they stared at each other. Neither of them knew what was going to happen, but it didn't sound all that good.

"It's settled then, Al. Little Mr. Perfect can stay. He's going to have quite the surprise when we get back to your place. It was so nice of America to 'let' you stay there, don't you think?"

Both voices laughed. "Yeah, I think he will."

A/N: Oooooh, chapter twoooooo! Thank you for all the reviews and whatnot. Please point out any typos. It will make me happy. I still kinda consider myself a novice, so any sort of review is welcome. It could be nice, mean, flame, rainbow, chocolate, magical- I DON'T CARE. Just please do it. AAAAAAAND about the update schedg... Well, I'll update for every 5 reviews, but also whenever I feel like it. HA. Still in need of a review... whatever!