Alright, so here's the next part of the story (a bit late, but nothing can really be done about that at the moment... but in the future certainly). Anyway, there will be a new chapter soon (for both Sebas-chan001 and myself) pertaining to this story so there's that :) I hope you enjoy this chapter, it was pretty fun to write.

America barely had time to blink, before suddenly the shadowy wolf was on top of him, pushing him to the ground and tethering him there. He struggled to push the beast off, and his hero powers seemed to be out of order, because he was unable to remove the wolf. A low, unearthly growl rumbled through its body, before its jaws found his shoulder and bit down. America screamed as the well, because he could feel sharp pain as it dragged its paws back. His vision was getting blurry teeth sunk into his shoulder, horrible tearing pain shooting through his body. The wolf's claws had somehow managed to latch on to his sides as, the wolf's image, which had been smudged to begin with, started to blacken.

He sensed someone behind him shouting words that sounded like ones from a spell, and the wolf yelped backwards as black flames engulfed it and took it back to its dimension. Then England was next to him, holding him up.

"America?! What happened?" His father asked, causing many tears to start streaming down America's face.

He tried to explain to England, through the uncontrollable sobs, what had happened, but the words came out a garbled mess. America gave up after a minute, giving in to the need to cry, and made an attempt to move closer to his father, and snuggle with him. It was hard to move, his shoulder and side were throbbing and even more pain happened when he did move. England wrapped his arms around him, and America felt the slightest bit better, but the guilt of what he had done dragged him back down.

"Shhhh. It's going to be ok now. It's alright Alfred, I'm here." His father told him.

America's eyes were growing heavier, it was harder to concentrate, but he thought he heard France grab the phone and Canada saying something about the spell book that was now laying on the floor nearby. He felt his father take in a breath of air, then England's face was practically pressed to his own.

"America, listen closely, I need to know which spell you cast," He paused to search his eyes desperately, "Which one?"

"You…you'll be mad." America managed to reply.

"I promise I won't. Please, Alfred, Daddie needs to know. It's very important."

"It was...the first one I saw... The one that sent the shadow wolf," He paused as a sob overtook him, then finished in a fading voice, "I'm so sorry Daddie."

He didn't hear his father's reply, because his vision blackened and he found he could no longer fight the incoming slumber.

*Canada's POV*

Matthew wasn't sure what was worse: his brother being mauled by a very scary monster, or the panic he saw in France's eyes. Canada was scared for his brother, there had been so much sticky blood. He couldn't help the tears that were falling from his face as France drove the car.

"Is Alfie going to be ok?" He asked from his car seat.

"I don't know." France snapped, which caused Canada to start bawling.

"No! Alfie's gonna die and it's all my fault!"

"No, no. I didn't mean that, Matthew. I'm just worried, which means you don't have to be."

"So Alfie will be ok?"

"Yes, I'm sure he will. Alfred is a strong boy." France looked back and gave Canada a smile, then returned his gaze to the wheel.

Canada wasn't sure that he should believe his Pappa, but decided to anyway. He wiped his tears away from his now puffy eyes, and spotted a small toy hand sticking out of the pocket behind Pappa's seat. He squirmed, and found he was just able to grasp the small plastic toy. The seat belt that held him back fought him as he reached to grab for it, and finally managed to pluck it out. Canada stared at the small toy, which was one of Alfred's superhero dolls. It was a red and white colored doll, the name of which Canada never really remembered. He grasped it close, thinking of how his brother and him and played with their action figures so many times before.

"Pappa!" Canada squealed suddenly, "Pappa! Look what I found!"

France glanced in the rearview mirror, and little to known to Canada, nearly ran over the line in the road.

"What is it, Mattie?" France asked.

"I found Alfie's favorite soldier!" Canada beamed, his tear stained cheeks shining now against his smile.

"Oh, that's wonderful!"

"Do you think I could bring it in for Alfie? Do you think it would make him better, faster?"

"Yes, of course you can bring it for him. And I do believe it will help him get better." France smiled at Canada in the mirror.

Canada hugged the little piece of plastic close to his heart, imagining the healing powers it could have. Maybe if Alfie got his toy, then he wouldn't be mad at him for not stopping him from going to the book. Matthew did not notice the rest of the 35 min drive, nor the particularly bad driving on his Papa's part (Nearly hitting 3 cars, and running enough red lights to light up a Christmas tree).

Canada bounced impatiently in his seat as France pulled the minivan into the hospital parking lot, which was almost completely full. Matthew thought he heard France murmuring about bad parking and some other words that Daddie had told him never to say.

"Why are you using the bad words?" Canada asked, as the minivan bounced into the parking garage.

"I didn't, Matthew, Pappa was just talking about how much he enjoys fudge cake." France told Canada, who happily believed him, "Just don't tell Daddie, ok?"

"Why?"

"I'll let you take your maple syrup to bed again for a little while."

Canada thought about the maple incident not too long ago where, in an effort to get the last drops of syrup out of a bottle, he had unscrewed it. While he had been getting the last drops, he had knocked over the diet soda on the table next to his bed (Alfie's idea of a good bedtime snack). Incidentally, his pillow had smelled of the nasty stuff for months. And he had been grounded from his bedtime snack for what seemed like forever.

"Ok! I promise I won't tell Daddie!" Canada promised happily.

Finally, the car stopped and France helped Canada out of the van, and took hold of his hand as the crossed between the rows of cars. When they entered the hospital, Canada noticed that there were lots of people milling about, doctors and nurses and sad people all around.

"Why is everyone so sad?" Canada asked, turning his big eyes up to see his father's face.

"They're not, only some of them are."

"Pappa!" Canada squealed happily, "Look balloons!"

The balloons in question were in the front of the shop, and they were all shiny and had all sorts of characters on them. Mickey Mouse, SpongeBob, and Superheroes.

"How nice."

"Pappa, can we please get one for Alfie? Please?"

"I don't know that he needs a balloon." France told Matthew.

"But balloons always make people happy," Canada fished around in his jacket pocket and produced a couple of coins he had been saving, "Here I have money, I can pay for it."

"Oh, alright." France smiled warmly at Canada, "Here's some money for the tax."

Canada took the bills Pappa handed him and then led the way into the shop.

"Hello," Smiled the lady by the register, "Do you need help with something?"

"I think we're alright." Pappa said.

"We're getting a balloon for my big brother."

"Oh, that's fun! Which one?" She asked.

"The super guy!"

"That one?" The clerk asked, her red polished nails pointing towards the direction of the super hero close to the register.

"Yes! He's the most super of all the heroes," Canada jumped a little as she reached for the balloon, "And look I have my own money too!"
Matthew held out the small pile of coins and the couple crumpled bills.

"My, my you truly are a sweetheart." She said as her lips formed into a smile. As Canada handed her the crumpled bills, she continued to smile as she punched the numbers. As the till opened, and the receipt came out, the lady quickly hid the child's bills into the paper and handed Canada the receipt and balloon. "Here you go darling."

"Thank you!"

"Come along, Matthew your brother and Daddie are waiting for us." France prodded gently.
"Ok, thank you again!" Canada smiled at her once more, before taking France's hand to follow him out into the lobby.

The two could hear the clerk wishing them a wonderful evening before entering the room America was in. England was right by his son's side, his body was kneeling on the ground, his head was laying against the soft mattress.

"Daddie?" Canada asked softly, a little worried by the state his father was in.

The Brit's head jerked upwards, his eyes already began to sag and a snore left his body subconsciously. "Yeah?" He mumbled.

"I brought Alfie some stuff." Canada said shyly.

The Brit's head jerked upwards, his eyes already began to sag and a snore left his body subconsciously. "Yeah?" He mumbled.

"I brought Alfie some stuff." Canada said shyly.

"Oh Canada." England said, "That's so sweet of you." he ended his sentence with a smile. "I know he'll love it."

"Is he awake?" Canada stepped closer to the bed and tried to get a good look at his brother. The balloon, which was grasped in his tiny fist floated behind him.

"Canada?" Came a small voice from the bed.

"Alfie!" He cried happily, jumping up onto the bed and scrambling around the wires in order to give his brother a hug.

"Easy!" England gasped, his overprotective instincts took over his body as he reached for the Canadian.

"He's okay." The calming voice of France seemed to take a hold of the Brit's nerves. "He's just excited to see his brother again."

Alfred hugged his brother back, though not as strong as he usually did.
"Look Alfie! I found you're superhero guy!" Matthew held up the small, plastic soldier and placed it in his brother's hands.

"Where was it?!" He asked. His blue orbs seemed to shine like a glowing star as he was reunited with one of his long lost toys.

"In the car silly! You must have left it there and forgot." Canada teased his brother, as he settled next to him. It was always moments like this, nestled side by side, that the brothers could melt away the problems of the world and just be enveloped in each other's words.

"So what did the doctor say?" France asked his husband as they took their seats in the chairs beside the bed.

"I'm not sure." England sighed, running his hands across his face, "That's what we're waiting on."

There was a knock on the open door and everyone looked up to see who it was.
"Uncle Scotland!" The boys cried happily, although the parents looked quite soured by this turn of event.

"What do you think you're doing here?" England said in a dangerously cool tone.

"Amour..." Francis whispered into Arthur's ear, "I don't think we should discuss this at the moment."

"For once, I have to agree with you husband, dearest brother." The scot said.

"Uncle Scotland look!" America said softly, due to his voice being a little weaker than normal, and gestured to his now rolled up shirt. His stitches were now in plain view for everyone on the room, "I've got battle scars now just like you!"

The ginger inhaled a breath through his clenched teeth as he saw the rather harsh wound. France couldn't stop himself from staring, and Canada gasped for his reaction.

"America, put your shirt down! You'll rip your stitches for sure!" Exclaimed a panicked England. America, in response, muttered an inaudible phrase and showed a scowled face to his dad.

"But I wanna show Scotland how awesome these scars will be!" Retorted the defiant little child.

"America." England said, his voice was already giving his child a warning, "Do as I say." France assured the boy by quickly nodding.

America rolled his eyes then slowly replaced his shirt and covered the injury.

"I'm sorry, lad." Scotland told him, a shake of his head in the way adults portrayed guilty remorse.

"You should be." Said a terse England.

"Look, I said I'm sorry." He said, tension already starting to build up in his shoulders.

"What kind of adult would give a gun to a child?!" England said, "Do you know the full damage of what you've done?! My children could be taken away from me!"

"They were fine. I remember the days we were their age, and we'd have target practice every day." The Scott retorted.

"Times have changed." The Brit said back, "And our home is not like the one we grew up in. We don't have the luxury of having many acres. My neighbors are only a few yards away. They could see everything."

"You need to calm down, little bro. They were perfectly safe, I was watching them the entire time."

"If you wanted to teach them to shoot you should've used blanks, not actual billets!" The angered country declared, his eyes were full of rage, "And you DO NOT tell them to aim at our father's tree!"

The Scott's cheeks now matched his red hair, and he opened his mouth to reply when a nurse came in with a plate of food.

"I had better be going." Scotland said, and quickly left before the family could be embarrassed any further.

"Is everything alright?" The nurse asked with a concerned look on her face.

"Quite." England groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"Just a quarrel between my spouse and his brother." Said France.

"Papa, what's a quarrel?" Canada asked.

"It's when two people disagree." The nurse replied and smiled at the youngest boy.

Canada became pretty shy, and attempted to hide behind his brother from the strange lady.

"Are you Alfred?" The nurse asked, after letting out a light laugh at Canada.

The quiet colony's faced seemed to be the same shade of red as his favorite hoodie. He continued to hide behind his brother, who nodded at the nurse's question.

"Okie dokie. I brought you some food." She offered the tray to America with an encouraging smile, "And for your brother, he can have a sucker if he wants."

The nurse expertly pulled out a sucker from her smock's pockets and held it out to the shy nation.

He grabbed the sucker that was extended to him, and replied to England's reminder of "What do you say to the nice lady, Matthew?"

"My, my." The nurse said with a wide grin on her face, "Such well-behaved boys you have."

"I don't like vegetables." America said not a moment too soon.

"Oh, what a shame. I thought you were a hero." The nurse said, look back at the parents with a sink.

"I am!" Alfred said confidently.

"Well, did you know that only the best heroes eat their vegetables?"

"That's not true!" America argued, although he looked quote uncertain about his answer.

"Mmhmm, it is. And do you want to know a secret?" She asked leaning close to his ear as she continued, "these veggies will give you better superpowers."

The boy stared at her with widening blue eyes. "Ya really mean it?!"

"Yep, but you have to eat the veggies to get them. And make sure not to tell anyone, it's a superhero secret." She gave Alfred a fake wink, and left the room as he started to gobble the vegetables down.

The two parents stared in awe as they watched their son, a notorious vegetable hater, eat every single one without complaint.

"There's no way..." England stuttered to his husband, "It could be that easy."

"I guess we were wrong." France replied.

"And I used every spell I had in the book and it had no effect! Then she talks to Alfred for one minute and they're almost gone! She must be a witch..."

"My love, how are you glossing over the fact that he didn't complain when Canada got a sucker and he didn't?" France whispered.

"Were you not listening?" England whispered back, "Witchcraft is the answer to this Sorcery."

"Witchcraft is your explanation to everything, ever since your dark ages." France chuckled.

"Are you going to argue that what she did was, in fact, not witchcraft?" England challenged his husband.

Canada had, at this point, watched his brother eat some really yummy looking food and was starting to feel his stomach grumble. When America had finished eating he had whispered a plea to his little brother to put the tray on a table for him. Matthew did so, and by the time he had returned to the bed to tell his brother about the balloon he'd picked out, Alfred was fast asleep against the hospital pillows. No one seemed to remember that it was late in the night, or that they had been drug out of bed of for this.

"Pappa? Daddie? I'm hungry." Canada said quietly.

"What's that Matthew, you're hungry?" England asked, his son's questioning voice bringing him back into parent mode.

"Well, let's go get some food, it looks like your brother could use some rest anyway." France said, taking one of the small child's hands while England took the other. The three of them strolled out of the room, and headed in the direction of the hospital canteen.