Well. Here's another chapter. My laziness took a half-hour break, so it's an update night. Heh. For anyone still reading this story, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I mean it. Let me know what you think, enjoy, and review.

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Part 3 – England

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Current time loop

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"Holy shit! Help! Somebody!" Canada's head jerked up, as he heard his brother's voice. After England and America had decided to explore the Annex again, despite the fact that England was now blind, Canada had snuck out of the safe-room. It wasn't as hard as he would have liked, what with Italy in a coma, and Prussia and France on a mission to save Spain and Romano. But, as he ran to help his brother and his father, he was glad of it. If he couldn't have vanished, he wouldn't be able to back up his family. He put an arrow on the string, as he raced down the eerie hallway of the Annex.

'Please be okay. America, England, please be okay.' He thought desperately, as he wrenched open the last door between them.

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Truth be told, England wasn't completely blind. At least, he wasn't helpless without his vision. The vestiges of his magic loaned a heightened sense of perception, almost a magical echolocation, for lack of a better term. He could make out where the creature was standing, feel spikes of energy in the air briefly before it would attack. He could feel America, his brilliant, clear energy shinning beside him. But, as the battle wore on, he felt America's energy beginning to run dry.

He had known it would be dangerous, returning to the Annex. He had no allusions about the danger that he and America had put themselves in. But, after using the first vestiges of his recovering magic to send Prussia and France back in time to save Spain and Romano, he had decided that searching for more of his magic in the Annex was a good idea. He remembered that Canada had quietly, but fiercely, berated him, ordering him to think about what he was doing.

Dear God, he wished he'd listened to the boy.

He could hear America's gun, barking out a near continuous stream of bullets, and America's pained gasping. He was injured, badly if the rasp of his breathing was any hint, and England wasn't much better off. The creature had slammed him backwards into a wall, with the force of a charging rhino, and several of his ribs had most definitely cracked. His strength was waning, and he could barely keep on his feet.

"Iggy? You okay?" America breathed out, as he reloaded his gun, the creature growling as it advanced on them.

"No. Sorry, lad." He chuckled humourlessly, "This time, the gentleman isn't strong enough." He coughed, tasting blood in his mouth. America gave a nervous laugh.

"Well, don't worry. The hero's gonna get both of us out of this!" England heard the rustle of cloth that indicated America had raised his gun arm, and then an empty click, " Wait, w-"

America's hiss of confusion was cut off by a cry of pain, as the creature's claws slashed at him.

"America!" England shouted, grabbing his son's jacket and pulling him back. He felt blood soaking his palms before the creature hit him again, sending him reeling back into a bookshelf. It took him a few moments to recover his senses from the blow, pulling himself out from under a pile of heavy books. He felt around for America, hands flailing until he touched the American's jacket, feeling the boy struggling with his gun.

"G-god damnit, it's jammed!" America sobbed, his voice on the edge of hysteria, as the creature moved forward to finish them off. England felt the younger man's fingers touch his temple, "E-England, you're bleeding." England gasped harshly; it hurt terribly when America gently prodded at the apparent wound, causing him to lurch forward against the young man with an agonized moan, "Holy shit! Help! Somebody!" He shouted frantically, and England felt America preparing to shield him with his own body.

"N-no, you stupid boy! R-run!" He gasped, trying to push away the young Nation. God, he felt so helpless, unable to do anything as the creature closed the distance between them.

Then, a flash of violet energy shot across his line of vision, between them and the creature, and a terrible gasp of pain split the air, coupled with the sound of flesh being torn. It took England several seconds to realise what had just happened.

Violet. He only knew one person with violet eyes, who would have thrown himself into the line of fire for them. America's scream only confirmed his fear.

"CANADA!" It was a scream of horror, of desperation, just bordering on hysterical. England reached out, fingers brushing the back of the Canuck's coat. God, he needed to see-

Then, from the sounds that followed, he knew that his younger son had been flung across the room, like a rag doll, and that the creature's attention was turned back to them.

Fury bubbled in the pit of his stomach, as he sensed the being before him. The foul beast had hurt him, and both of his boys. If he didn't do something, they were all going to die. And who knew if Italy would wake up, to turn back the clock again. For a split second, he could see the room, in perfect detail, from the bleeding monster before him, to the limp, blood-stained body of his younger son, lying against the far wall, blood pooling under him.

He saw RED.

He didn't know how, but he summoned enough magic to blast the monster back, and rip it apart, as if a thousand invisible knives flew at its face, its body. The scream was horrible.

His vision faded to black again, but he stayed conscious. He scrambled for Canada's limp form, immediately turning the boy towards him. He heard America let out a choked sob behind him, and he knew it was bad.

"America, you are my eyes right now, understand? I need you to tell me what happened, and how badly injured your brother is."

"O-okay. He jumped in front of that thing, right when it was about to stab us with its claws. T-they went right through him-" America choked on his rising sobs again.

"America. Alfred. You need to calm down, love." He reached blindly to cup the teen's cheek, feeling the tears streaming down his face.

"I-I know, I just-" America was cut off by a weak moan, "C-Canada...?" He whispered. A meek, pained whimper answered him.

"Merica...?" Canada whispered, sounding confused and in so much pain, "D-ad...?"

"That's right, sweetheart. We're here, we've got you." England gently stroked the boy's hair, trying to calm him. The younger blonde nodded, wincing in agony, and England could feel it, he could feel how the poor boy was struggling not to cry.

"I-I know... Are y-you guys... okay...?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine. You saved us, lil' bro." America whispered softly, squeezing his brother's hand, "Even though I told you not to." Canada let out a wheezing chuckle.

"Told y-you I couldn't p-promise anything..." He mumbled, eyes drifting to a half-closed state. America shook him gently, eliciting a weak cry.

"No, Canada, you can't go to sleep now. You need to stay awake, kid." America all but shouted. Canada frowned.

"...'m older...then you..." He muttered. England had to smile, remembering all the times the boys had fought, sometimes viciously, over the subject. America rolled his eyes, and scooped his brother into his arms, grunting in pain himself. Canada yelped in pain, even as America tried to shift him gently in his arms. "G-god, oh G-god, Meri, s-stop! I-it HURTS!" He wailed, his voice shaking.

"Sorry, Canadia, but we need to get you out of here. I'm really sorry, bro." America's voice wavered, and England reached out to touch his arm as he stood.

"We need to get back to the safe room. China may be able to help." England could feel America stiffen at his choice of words; may be able to. He felt horrible for saying it, but he couldn't handle anything but the truth at the moment. And the harsh truth was, that Canada could be dying, cradled in his brother's arms. He could only pray, silently, as they moved through the house as quickly as they could, that his quiet boy would survive.