The air had never been so heavy before, weighing down on his chest like this. Poland was filled with anticipation, as tense as a drawn bow, ready to fight at the first sign of Germany. He had always hated waiting games, and despite England and France's assurances that Germany would not attack, he knew better. He'd seen Germany taking other countries one by one, claiming them for living space...and he knew he would not be stopped by something as light as a piece of paper.

He did not fear Germany himself; he knew he was not ready for a fight. He watched planes diving and rolling in the sky as pilots practiced. Even such a beautiful sight failed to take his breath away. The only comfort he could take in this was that England and France had promised him new planes. These planes were ancient, and liked to malfunction; new planes would make all the difference. He could only hope they'd be here on time...

Even if they weren't on time, Romania had promised to hold onto them if the unthinkable happened and Germany attacked early.

A soldier running down the street disturbed his thoughts, and Poland was quickly on his feet. It could only be bad news if he was running like that...

"Germany has crossed the border!"

Poland's heart skipped a beat; it was much too soon! The planes weren't even in Central Europe yet! He hurried down the street, wincing as he felt the first attacks. If Germany wanted a fight, he would give him hell...

France was lounging on a couch when he heard the news. He paused, looking at the young man who had brought the message.

"Aren't you a cute one? Come here a moment, mon cherie..."

England nearly spilled his tea in anger at the news.

"What? Germany himself told me he wouldn't attack! Get him on the phone thi-" The phone had already begun to ring, and England snatched it up.

"Hello? Germany?"

"No! Poland! I'm under attack; I need your help!"

"Let me talk to him first, all right? The last thing we need is another war..." England ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh.

He heard Poland take a quick, angry breath. "There is already war here! When are you coming to help me?"

"I will see what I can do. Good day."

"Bu-" England hung up, getting to his feet.

"Invite Germany over for dinner; I must speak with him about this Poland matter..." England instructed the young man who'd brought him the message.

Poland had quickly figured out that his allies would not be coming to help him immediately. Which was all right, really it was, because he could hold Germany off for a while. They'd come to help him when they had their supplies together.

He sighed to himself, the smell of gunpowder and ashes tickling his nose. Warsaw had only been attacked hours ago, but the casualties were high already. He could feel it in his aching body. He'd already had more than one run in with Germany, and he had narrowly escaped getting his head crushed only recently.

He picked at the scab forming on his forehead; he was utterly alone in his fight for now. It wasn't something he was unused to...for the last century or so, he'd been staging rebellions. He was not eager to be put down again.

Poland took a deep breath, listening as Germany's footsteps plodded through the hallway. He was getting close. Poland steeled himself, standing quickly, aiming his gun at where he heard the noise. He would shoot him in the head.

He stopped short when he saw Germany's gun pointed at his own forehead, his cold blue eyes betraying no mercy. They were at a stand still for the moment...but it would only last a matter of seconds, he knew.

"We meet again."

"No duh!" Poland's juvenile comment made the stern nation frown deeply.

"Your own stupidity is your downfall. This is why I must take care of your lands for you. You were never meant to rule yourself, Untermensch."

Poland glared at him angrily, shooting before he thought it through. He would curse his impulsivity later, as Germany knocked his gun up, the bullet harmlessly hitting the ceiling. Germany threw him against the wall, fingers digging into his neck. Poland tried to kick him, as Germany caught his arms, pinning them behind him.

"Warsaw will pay for this..." Germany growled, drawing his knife. Feliks pushed against him, shaking his head.

"N-not Warsaw-please-" He pleaded, even though he could already feel Warsaw burning. Germany's eyes glinted with cruelty; this stubborn little country was more trouble than he was worth. There was silence for a moment, as he felt the small nation's pulse beneath his fingers. Such a simple thing; one would think it would be easy to stop.

He was not overly violent; that was East's job. Germany had a specific mission when he came here, one he had yet to fulfill.

"Surrender."

Poland tensed angrily. How dare he even think he ever would!

"Never! I will never surrender to you-you monster!" He shut his eyes, not feeling nearly as strong as the words he spoke as he felt with the knife digging into his back.

It was then that he heard the door open. He looked over tentatively, finding Russia standing in the doorway, covered in blood. He sagged with relief involuntarily; Russia was on his side, right? He'd talked with him before about helping him. He could tolerate being saved by Russia...

"Thanks heavens you're here! He's gone crazy! Are England and France here?"

The smile Russia gave him was less than reassuring, but the man had always been creepy.

"Little Poland, I am here to save you."

"I know! So could you hurry up, before he sta-" Russia came close to him, pressing a finger to his lips.

"You are misunderstanding; I have come to save you from yourself."

So, yeah...I love reviews, and if I'm doing something inaccurately, please tell me! I would gladly appreciate it!