Disclaimer: I really hate putting these in every fanfic, but I really want to make a point that I don't own, or will never own, Hetalia or any other goddamn anime/manga. /shot


"..What?"

I nearly threw the phone down on the linoleum floor. My hands started to shake uncontrollably, and I felt chills shiver down my spine.

"You heard me," he nearly yelled into the phone. "England, goddammit, help me!" He sobbed. "You can't just leave me hanging. I'm freaking out!"

I felt myself tremble. Why am I suddenly scared of this man I knew for so long? The one that I took care of when he was just a young one? Shouldn't I be over there, comforting him? Saying things like "You didn't mean to, it's all right. Now, let's go home. Here, I'll make some of my scones that you always loved when you were younger!"?

But all I can do is just tremble with immense fear. I find it difficult to speak. "Who..who did you murder?" I stammer.

America sighed. "Please! Just come over here. I don't know what to do! I need you to help me before someone finds me and I'm completely screwed!" America shakily sobbed and tried to calm himself down. "Just please..."

And with that last plea of help, I couldn't help but help the man in distress.

"..All right. Where are you?"

I can't believe I'm doing this.

"...China."

My heart jumped. He said 'China'. Does that mean he killed him? I fear the worst when I agree that I'll be there as soon as I can.

As I jump into my car, I can't help but think of China and his safety. Why would America want to kill China? China has done nothing, and granted at times he can be a little annoying and a smart ass, it wasn't enough incentive to kill him. Has America finally gone insane?


"England!"

I jump as I hear the sound of America's voice. I run outside of the house to see him sobbing. As I rush to his side, I pat his back, trying to calm him down. "What happened?" I ask after a while. America still sobbed, holding me tight, pointing at the ground. As I look in the finger's direction, I notice it.

He had killed an innocent cat.

I look at it with disgust. He had beaten it to death, surely. There's nothing we can do about it now.

"Why did you do it?" I ask him nicely. He shook his head.

"I don't know."

And this answer doesn't help me at all. I look back at him, and back at the cat. He still cries silently, probably fearing the worst. "Am I going to jail?" he asked, and he clutched the back of my suit. "I won't go to jail, will I? I didn't mean to!"

And my heart crumbles at his pleading voice.

"No, America. You didn't mean to. You won't go to jail." I coo into his ear. America looked up at me, and he gave the biggest smile I've ever seen him give.

"I won't?" He asked enthusiastically. "You're sure I won't go?"

I nodded. "I'm sure, America." I paused. "Why did you kill it, anyway?"

America paused, kicking the ground as he thought. "I'm not sure. I just..." He trailed off.

I look at him with confusion. A feeling wells in the pit of my stomach, and I can't help but think of his well-being in the future. Someone who starts killing innocent animals when they are younger tend to grow up as serial killers. What if this is America's future?

I shook the thought out of my head and pull him into another big hug. "How about this—I'll make some scones and we can get this out of our heads!" I nod, and his eyes grow wide with hunger. "Your favorite scones, hm?"

America jumped with excitement. "Oh, yes!" He smiled and ran into the house, holding his hand out.

"Come on, come on! We don't have all day!"


As I near China's house, I can't help but think of that gruesome day when America was a little one. Whether he had killed that poor feline on purpose, I won't ever know. But now that I think back, this all makes sense. Beings that he killed that cat, and perhaps many more, falls into place. He might have been destined to be a serial killer. That makes a lot of sense now...

I shake my head and deny the fact of me ever thinking about it. He won't be a serial murderer. He called me right after he killed China, or whomever, and he claimed he didn't know why he did it. So maybe this was just a one time thing, just like that cat. (Hopefully that was the only cat.) He did the same thing when he killed that cat, so maybe it'll just be like back then...

I sigh as I pull into China's driveway. I hastily get out of the car and look up at the big, Asian styled house. I shake my head and hurry into the house, and the first thing I see is a very bloodied America. He was crouched on the ground, holding the bloody murder weapon in his hand. I look down and I see China facing up on the ground in pool of blood. His eyes were wide open with fear, and I can't help but frown. He was so innocent. He didn't do anything wrong.

America looks up with those childish eyes of his, and he frowns. "England.." He mumbles, holding his arms out. This strikes something in my head. Something like Deja Vu. I can't help but remember that day when he killed that cat, the same look in his eyes, the same pose...

I take this to an advantage and thrust myself into his arms, comforting him as much as I could. He sobbed into my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

"I don't know why I did it," he sobbed. I could feel the tears forming a pool on my suit, but I kept patting his back. "I just felt... angry."

Angry? I look at him with a befuddled look. "Angry? Why?"

America shook his head. "I don't know."

I frowned. He always says 'I don't know' whenever he does something bad. I really wish he would have a solid answer.

As I held the trembling American in my arms, I stare at the lifeless body of China. What would happen when everyone notices that China isn't around anymore? What would happen to us? Would we live as if nothing had happened? Or would we be found out by everyone else and be sent to prison? Haha, how would that sound in a news report? 'Two Very Proud and Successful Nations Commit Murder'. Yeah, I'm sure that's how it would seem. And in the news report, they'll explain how successful we were in our endeavors to create a surviving country for our inhabitants. And then they'll make us look bad for America killing China and me taking part in the crime. That's how the news reports are in today's world—make us seem like the best around, and then talk about us like we're the scum of the Earth.

"I don't want to go to prison," America mumbled into my suit. Now, this strikes as major Deja Vu. This is exactly like the one time he killed that cat.

Except this time, the cat is China.

And China is a human.

Killing humans is very illegal.

And illegal means punishment.

And of course, punishment leads to conviction.

I pat his back. "Shh, I promise that everything will be fine."

America shakes his head. "I killed a damn human, England! Shit, not just a human—a nation. He was part of the Alliance. I just turned against my ally." He pause, giving a shaky sigh. "You know how horrible that is?"

Well, he was right there. There is nothing all right about killing an ally, who is specifically part of your team. Killing an ally is betraying the Alliance, which he so obviously did. I pat his back again, petting the back of his head with my other hand.

"We'll get through this together." I mumble. No matter how much I really didn't want to get involved, I have no choice. "This will be our little secret. We don't tell anybody, all right?" I look down at him. "Not even Canada. You know how he is. The poor, timid guy."

America nods. "All right. You'll help me with this, right?"

My head turns to the side in confusion. "With what?"

He points at the lifeless Chinese man. "With him."

I blink and look at America. I don't get what he's getting at. His cheeks puffed out in anger and he crossed his arms.

"Hiding the body."

I mentally hit myself upside the head. Of course, that's what he meant. I sigh, looking at the body, and then back at America's pleading eyes.

Those eyes are hard to resist.

I give in, nodding, getting up from the ground. "Yeah, I suppose.."

America's face lit up with relief and he grabbed China's whole body. "You grab a shovel and we'll head out in the back of his house."

I sigh once more and go outside of China's house, looking back and forth to see if anyone was strolling around. I give a slight nod and walk outside nonchalantly, going to the side of China's house to see if there was a shovel. I sigh with relief as I find one, and I go out behind the house and dig a big hole. America was right behind me when I finished, and he threw the body into the hole. I stand there for a minute, silently praying for China's safety up in Heaven. I also apologize for our horrible, intruding behaviour and wish the best for his thriving country. America nudged me in the arm and I finally start putting the dirt back in the hole. I pat it down with the shovel, making sure it doesn't look like it was dug up in the first place. I stand back and put the shovel against the wall of the house, wiping sweat from my brow and observing my work. America pats my back.

"Doesn't look like you dug it up at all." He pauses. "Hopefully no one figures out anything."

We went back inside the house and cleaned up. America had to throw away his whole outfit because it was stained from the blood of the Chinese man. I wash my hands off, getting all the dirt out from underneath my fingernails. I look over at America, now completely naked, except his underwear covering his nether regions. I sigh, glaring at him. He shrugs.

"I don't have another change of clothes." He blushes.

I put a finger up, smiling. "Lucky for you, I have an extra suit in my car."

America groans and shakes his head. "It's like my teenage years all over again." He mumbles under his breath as I head outside for the suit. I hurry back inside and throw it at him, smiling.

"Come on, lad." I push him to the mirror. "You'll look sharp. People like sharp men. It shows that you're sophisticated and neat."

America shakes his head as he put the suit on.

Another bout of Deja Vu strikes me as I remember the first time he put a suit on. I frown, remembering the old days when America wasn't so tainted—just coming into this horrid world.

"It's uncomfortable, but oh well. It works." He shrugs, turning around. "Let's go out for a drink." America smiles. "To make up for earlier, when I turned you down."

I give a nod. "Sure. It'll be a jolly good time."

As we get into the car, I look at the American in the mirror on his side of the car. He was looking outside the window, looking lost in thought. A dark shadow hung over his face, and he kept tapping his fingers on the side of the car. I glare at those dancing fingers, and can't help but think that it wasn't possible to kill with those hands. They were so nice and soft. As if the touch of one horrible item would then forever taint his hands. I wonder if they're hard and dry now, having its first taste of murder?

America notices my stare and turns to me. "Aren't we going?"

I nod. "Sorry, I was lost in thought." I apologize.

America furrows his brows. "I'm sorry for getting you into this."

I shake my head. "It's all right; I care about you. Of course I'm going to help you, no matter how horrible and messed up it is."

America smiles. "Thank you so much, England."

I nod again, starting the car.

I back out of the driveway, and we go to the pub to have a couple of drinks to get our minds off of this situation.


Author's Note: Yayy~

If you can't tell, I tried to add some good ole' humor at the end. /sweatdrop

I thought it was a little too..."serious" so humor is always good, isn't it?

I don't plan on it being like this all the time though, so... ;A;

Anyhow, review and let me know what you think. :D