Chapter 2: Elimination

The meeting adjourned the nations all separating to their own hotels for the night before disembarking to their various homes the following day.

America still felt nauseous at Britain's declaration earlier. He knew that Britain had an overactive imagination, but the older nation usually kept his fantasies to himself, partly through embarrassment. Britain had seemed so serious at the meeting, more serious than America had ever seen him. Maybe there was some truth behind his words? If so, America would shoulder the responsibility to save the planet from these evil spirits. He was the hero after all!

Frowning, he looked up at the hotel he found himself outside. He was staying here for the night, along with Britain, Canada and Sealand. Perhaps he should go and speak with Britain about his outburst earlier.

He chapped the door to the floor that Britain was staying on. A smiling servant girl with curly blonde hair answered the door.

"How may I help you, Mr America?" she asked sweetly. The nation blushed slightly – she was very pretty. How did such a beautiful young woman belong to Britain? Well, she had a British accent…

He suddenly realised that he hadn't answered, and broke from his elongated stupor and smiled at the girl.

"I would like to speak to Britain, please?" The girl's bright expression faded slightly at the mention of her employer.

"Um…Mr Britain is unfortunately unwell at the moment. He came back from the meeting looking very pale and almost fainted into my colleague's arms. He is currently resting his bedroom, and it would be better if he weren't disturbed," she stated sadly. America gasped and felt his heart miss a beat momentarily.

"Please, only for a short while," he gave her the cutest puppy-dog look he could muster. The girl sighed, curtsying and stepping aside to allow him entrance to the floor.

"My name is Ellie, by the way," she smiled as she led him through the corridor along to Britain's bedroom.

"Nice to meet you, Ellie," he nodded, returning the smile. Ellie finally stopped outside an oak door, and chapped on it lightly.

"…yes?" came a small whisper from inside.

"Mr America is here to see you sir," Ellie explained.

"…okay…" came the second whisper. Ellie nodded, opening the door and gesturing for America to step inside. Once he did so, she pulled it softly closed behind him, leaving him in the dimly lit room, staring in shock at the bed before him.

Britain, beads of sweat on his forehead and quietly taking gasped breaths lay atop the bed in a plain white t-shirt and grey shorts. He glanced over at America with dim green eyes, a small smile making its way onto his face.

"I'm…sorry…but…I…can't stand…to…shake your…hand," he managed to utter between gasps. America broke out of his second trance and darted over to the bedside, gripping onto the limp hand of his former guardian. Concern laced his features as he looked upon the older nation's frail form. He removed his gloves and shoved them into his jacket pocket, and hissed as he touched the bare skin of Britain's hand once again. He had expected the man to be exceptionally warm, because of the sweat on his face, but instead his hand was deathly cold. America raised one hand to Britain's clammy forehead, and the heat was the same, contradictory to the moisture lapped over his face. His panic worsened at this revelation. Britain should not be this cold… it wasn't healthy.

"Britain, what the heck happened after the meeting?" he demanded frantically.

"A…spirit…it…it flew…right through…me," Britain stated breathlessly. America inhaled sharply, his heart rate increasing rapidly in panic.

"You'll be all right, though?" he stuttered. Britain closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I…don't…know…" he replied.

"Please! You have to be all right! You're the only one of us who knows how to stop them!" America grasped tighter to the very flaccid hand of his comrade. Britain smiled weakly up at him.

"So…you finally…believe me?" To his question, America nodded eagerly. The older nation smiled feebly again. "It…took…me getting…into this state…to…make you…believe." His statement triggered a strong feeling of guilt inside the younger nation, who blushed in shame.

"I'm so sorry for not believing you sooner! But please, you have to be okay!" America continued pleading, bitter tears rolling down his cheeks in his desperation.

"Come…closer…for a moment…" Britain commanded. America paused his sobbing, sniffing and looking directly at the man. Then he followed his orders, leaning in close to the man. "You…must seal…the veil…for the terror…to stop…and the spirits to be vanquished."

"How the heck do I do that? And will you recover if I do that?"

"I will…recover…if…the spirit which…inflicted this…on me…is vanquished," Britain nodded. "And…to seal…the veil…you have to…!" He hissed sharply, his weak body stiffening. His eyes jammed shut in pain and he struggled to breathe.

America watched in horror as Britain began to convulse, having no control over his body anymore.

"Britain?" he stuttered. The man did not take notice, and continued to judder.

America leapt to his feet and ran out into the hall. He glanced in both directions, and, not seeing anyone, he shouted.

"Please, someone help me!" he called. Dozens of servants appeared in the corridor, and upon seeing America's panicked expression, ran towards him and into the room.

They immediately began to deal with Britain's unexpected seizure, and America found a familiar face smiling comfortingly at him, leading him from the room.

Before Ellie lead him completely away, he took one last glance into Britain's room, to see the older man still jolting awkwardly, blood dribbling from his mouth.

A/N: So, what do you think about the second chapter? This is now the fastest I have ever updated any of my multi-chapter fanfiction stories! Please review and tell me what you think, since this is my very first Hetalia fanfic! Thank you! :D