I'm back with evil content. Relish it. Heheh. You must like or at least tolerate it or you wouldn't be reading this XD.

Also, relish the bromance. France and England, mostly. Purely platonic (this is 100% USUK), but still awesome. ^^

Anyway, this is a very long chapter. I would have split this one too, but I was like, nah, the more, the better. People like big uploads. And you may be pleased to hear that I have most of the next chapter written out too.

Let's see, warnings: major character death, so much ANGST, fallen dreams, lost hope, the usual, etc. You know me.

Allons-y!


Seven

Guilt

'You came just in time,' France says. 'We weren't planning on staying much longer.'

'Hmm?'

'It's why Germany and Italy were on the supply run,' he elaborates, 'and why we've been in contact with Austria and 'Ungary. We're meaning to leave Paris and 'ead south. There are plenty of 'uman refugee camps to shelter us on our journey.'

We're in the basement again with Jack. I've been in this house with the others a night and a day now, and once again the Toclafane are inspecting the building to ensure nothing is out of order.

I've spent the day mostly asleep, as I didn't really get any last night. I've only really talked to Jack, France and Germany- I haven't spoken to Spain and Romano since last night and Italy spends most of his time in the kitchen.

'The Earth Revolution?' I ask.

France tilts his head, clearly surprised that I am aware of the bigger plan. 'Oui... 'ow did you know...?'

'Germany mentioned it to me yesterday,' Jack says. 'When were you guys planning on leaving?'

France sighs. 'Tomorrow. We've 'ah time to prepare with extra supply runs and we've observed the Toclafanes' routine checkups around this part of the city. We're leaving tomorrow night after the Toclafane 'ave left.'

'But America didn't go that way, did he?' I say. 'He went east, not south.'

'Angleterre, as much as you want to find Amérique, it's far more practical for you to come with us,' France says.

'Wow, frog,' I say, trying to find a silver lining. 'You're making it sound like you'd be glad of my company. That's new.'

He smiles. 'Don't flatter yourself.'

Jack leans in to whisper in my ear. 'Artie, listen. I know how badly you wanna find America and Martha, but we gotta go with these people. It's our best chance of actually doing something good.'

Doing something good? I wish he hadn't phrased it like that. For all the good I do, it will never be enough. Never.

But I give him the answer he wants, because deep down I know it's the most practical decision, like France said. 'Fine.'


The preparations are in order. Everyone is shoving food, medical equipment and other necessary things to bring along for the journey into satchels to take with us. Germany says that someone has a truck waiting for us about two miles away that will take us down south, where we'll get off and board another one; the transfer is in order to keep hidden from the Toclafane.

I overhear Spain and Romano talking from the lounge as I shuffle through the hallway with a rucksack.

'… supposed to be some kind of weapon that can kill him.'

'Like what?'

'How the hell am I supposed to know? That's all I've heard. This Jones girl is meant to be looking for it or something.'

'What is Martha looking for?' I say loudly, opening the door to find the two of them cramming a couple of first aid kits into a bag.

Romano glares and Spain answers, 'Apparently Martha Jones is looking for a weapon to kill the Master.'

'That's what that Doctor guy told her to do,' Romano adds.

'No, he didn't,' I reply, feeling a little indignant that they would even suggest the Doctor coming up with a plan like that. 'The Doctor would never instruct anyone to do something like that.'

'Well, how else are we supposed to beat the Master?' Romano retorts.

'I want him dead as much as anyone,' I say frostily, 'but the Doctor would never want a decision like that to be made. It's not how he works.'

'Oh, and you'd know, would you?' Spain interjects.

I straighten up a bit. These two are getting on my last nerve. 'Yeah. I would. I know the Doctor better than anyone, and he always fixes it the best way he can.'

'Well, if you see him again, tell this Doctor bastard that he's doing a great job,' Romano spits sarcastically. 'Fat lot of good that old idiot has done-'

I'm right in front of him in three strides, grabbing the front of his shirt roughly. 'He has saved all of our lives more times than you've had hot dinners.'

Romano pushes me away roughly. 'And what's that supposed to mean?'

'You don't even know him,' I snarl. 'You don't know what he's done for this world. You don't know what he's going to do. He's our best hope.'

'You knew about this, didn't you?' Spain says suddenly. 'About this Doctor, and about the Master too. You knew about them before all this started.'

Spain actually being observant is enough to shock me alone, but this is the hard reminder of how badly I messed up. '… The Doctor is my friend,' I say finally.

'And the Master?' Romano prompts. 'Were you buddies back when all he was doing was running your frickin' country?'

'No. I didn't know who he really was,' I snap.

'But did you know this was going to happen?' I'm surprised to hear Germany's voice from behind me, and I turn to see him entering the room to join the conversation. 'Did you know all of this was coming?'

'No!' I growl. 'You were watching that broadcast on the day it all began like everyone else. You saw what happened. I didn't know what he was, or what he was planning. I tried to stop it when it all went wrong.'

This is the part I've been afraid of, because I'm too much of a bloody coward deep down. It's one thing blaming myself for all this, but now they all have the right to as well.

'And you weren't in on it with him?' Romano asks.

'Of course I bloody wasn't, you idi-'

'He was your boss,' Spain says. 'How were we supposed to know what to think?'

'Your boss took over the Goddamn world,' Romano agrees. 'For all we knew, it might have been some sort of new British Empire you were trying to create or something-'

'That is the stupidest sodding thing I've ever heard!' I shout, enraged.

'We thought so too,' Germany tries to reason with me. 'But you were up on the Valiant with him, and some people weren't sure if you were a prisoner or a passenger.'

'You told me you thought I was dead!'

'We did think that, after what happened to London,' Germany answers. 'We knew you had nothing to do with this, England,' he continues, sending a pointed glare at Spain and Romano. 'No nation could ever want something like this, not even someone like Russia.'

'But you knew the guy!' Romano tries again. 'You knew him before he did all this! You worked with him, he was your damn boss! You really had no idea what he was planning-?'

'I GET IT, ALRIGHT?' I scream. I've had enough. I've had enough of everything. 'I KNOW IT'S ALL MY BLOODY FAULT. I KNOW. I WAS REMINDED EVERY SINGLE DAY BY THE MASTER HIMSELF, SO DON'T YOU DARE- DON'T YOU DARE- ISSINUATE THAT I WANTED ANY OF THIS. YOU THINK IT WAS ALL SUNSHINE AND RAINBOWS UP THERE? YOU THINK I WAS JUST RELAXING AS HE DEMOLISHED THE WORLD? I WAS IN HIS GRASP. I WAS THE EASIEST, MOST IMMEDIATE THING FOR HIM TO DESTROY.'

'Ve? What's happening?' Italy asks worriedly, bounding into the room after Germany with France and Jack following behind.

Spain, Romano and Germany are frozen in shock and France looks kind of solemn. Italy looks thoroughly confused and Jack appears concerned for me. But I've finally done it, haven't I? Admitted to my crimes verbally for everyone to hear, and as a rant no less. I'm really trying for the honesty thing for the first time in my life. I see why it's so unappealing.

Isn't it meant to feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders when you confess your sins? Aren't you meant to feel better for it? Because I don't. Standing here with the others all watching me, I feel worse than ever.

'Well, fellas...' Jack says quietly. 'We should, uh, probably be heading off soon if we wanna catch that ride.'

Germany quickly regains his composure. 'Ja, you're right. Come on, everyone, we should go...'

I grasp the strap of my rucksack tightly and storm out the room before the others have even moved.


It's completely dark and the city is silent. The seven of us travel in an orderly fashion: France leading the way as he knows his capital city best, Spain next, Romano after him, then Jack, then me, then Italy with Germany bringing up the rear.

'Hey, England?' Italy asks rather timidly. His voice is so quiet that I'm almost certain I'm the only one who can actually hear him.

'Yes, Italy?'

'You were with the bad man, weren't you? The Master?'

I keep my eyes fixed firmly on the ground in front of me. 'Yes.'

'Locked up?'

'Yes.'

'Was he doing bad things to you?'

I don't answer this time. I just keep walking.

We pass by an empty square and walk along five or six streets, ducking into a few alleys here and there. There aren't any Toclafane or humans in sight, but we spot a number of wild dogs patrolling the streets in search of food.

'Do we have any weapons?' Jack asks after a few more minutes.

'Germany has a gun,' France replies.

'That's not enough,' Romano mutters.

'It won't matter anyway,' I tell them. 'Guns don't work on Toclafane. Nothing does.'

'That's not true!' Italy says excitedly. 'There was that one that got hit by lightning in Africa! Remember, fratello? We heard about it last week.'

'I'm sure it was just a rumour,' Germany says. 'I mean, what are the odds of-?'

'It's true, potato bastard!' Romano says. 'The lightning strike brought one of them down!'

'And what happened to it?' Jack asks.

'How the hell should we know? It happened in Africa.'

'Shh!' Spain says suddenly. 'Can you hear that?'

We all stop walking and stay quiet for a moment, listening out for whatever Spain heard. After a few seconds, a dreadful voice resonates through the air.

'Bad countries, breaking rules. You're not meant to be out at night time.'

Italy shrieks and Germany bellows, 'RUN!'

'Halt!' shouts a man's voice from behind us and I look back quickly to see a line of soldiers, all with their guns pointed at us. So not only are the Toclafane hear but the are armed human enemies too. The Master must have sent them, and the only reason I can think for him doing this is because he truly has figured out that I came hear to find the other countries.

There's a gunshot and Jack grunts before toppling over. 'Jack!' I shout, throwing myself down next to him but someone is already grabbing my arms and pulling me away from the corpse of my friend.

'It's too late, we 'ave to go-'

'No, he comes back! He doesn't die!' I yell. 'We can't leave him!'

'Angleterre, come on!'

We scatter pretty quickly. I have no idea where the other four run off to, but I find myself being dragged by France to the left as the bullets rain down of the walls of buildings and long forgotten cars all around us.

'We need to find some place to hide,' France says, glancing around frantically at the deserted road we're currently racing down. 'We 'ave locations planned out where we can rendezvous with the others.'

'Jack doesn't stay dead,' I say, twisting my head around to look back where we came from. I can hear the yells of the soldiers and the excited giggling from the Toclafane but so far no one has shown up in my line of vision. 'He comes back to life. We have to go back for him.'

'What are you talking about?' France demands. ''E's just a 'uman. 'Ow could 'e possibly come back to life-?'

'It's complicated!' I reply frustratedly. 'What matters is that they'll capture him!'

'Angleterre, they'll already 'ave 'im by now. There's nothing we can do.'

'What the hell do you know, frog?' I snarl. 'Jack's the one who helped get me out of that hellhole! I won't let them drag him back there!'

I make a move to retrace my steps in an effort to go back for Jack but France grabs my arm and pulls me to the side of one of the discarded cars. He pushes me down low and ducks down himself, peering through one of the car windows up at a Toclafane that is now traveling along the street, trying to spot any of the fugitives.

'Come out to play, little countries,' it chuckles.

My heart is hammering wildly in panic. Jack has been taken and we could get caught at any moment. And then what? I'll get taken back to the Valiant and tortured even more than before as punishment. But what will the Master do to the other countries? Will he take them back with us? Will he torture them as well?

France taps me on the shoulder and motions with his other hand that we should stay low and that I should follow him. Staying bent down, we slowly make our way around the car and hide behind the one next to it. I realise France is trying to reach an entrance to an alley a few feet away from us without the Toclafane noticing.

Then I hear it- the voice of my nightmares.

'Come on out, England,' the Master says. 'I know you're here.'

He's here, on the street with a bunch of soldiers. He can't see me but he knows I'm nearby. He's actually come personally for me. He's going to find me and the others.

I'm frozen in fear. Up until now, the Master hasn't truly terrified me. There's been too much hatred, and not enough room for fear. I know what he's capable of but I've tried to stand defiant to him. But now, I am truly afraid of him. Right now, I want to run, to get as far away from him as possible.

I can't actually physically move until France practically drags me towards the alleyway. I can feel myself shaking, but I no longer care about what the other nation might think. I've long since given up caring about any of that. All I am conscious of is the scars on my body tingling in reaction to the appearance of the man who put them there.

'Angleterre...!' France whispers frantically.

'You're somewhere around, aren't you?' the Master calls. 'Not bad, I must say. Your escape was impressive. You couldn't take the TARDIS because of the paradox machine, but that didn't stop you and our dear friend Jack, did it? No, you found a vortex manipulator. You went to London, you got caught up in the carnage, and then you escaped and came here. You haven't exactly made it very far, but still, not bad indeed.'

'Sil vous plais, Angleterre,' France tries again, tugging on my arm.

'Nice of the other nations to take you in, wasn't it?' the Master's voice rings out. 'I was under the impression that they didn't like you, but that apparently didn't stop them.'

His voice is closer now. The primeval instincts inside me are telling me to run, which works in France's favour as I come out my fearful daze slightly and allow myself to get pulled along without restraint.

'Shame America wasn't here to greet you, hmm?' the Master continues. 'Still, if he was, I'd have quite the little collection of nations to play with.'

At the mention of America, I finally snap out of shock for real and willingly creep over to the alleyway with France. That's why I escaped in the first place- to find America. If I get captured now, then what's it all been for?

'Come on,' France says in a low, quiet voice. He's still trying to pull me away, although I'm ready to come now. I don't need help. 'We need to find the others before they do.'

'France.' I halt, thinking things through quickly. He stops too and stares at me. 'The Toclafane found me in London. I was in a refugee camp. The humans had been allowed to survive there. The Toclafane let them. But when I arrived, there was a massacre. The Toclafane attacked those people because they wanted to capture me, all on the Master's orders. The Master wants me back on the Valiant.'

'Angleterre...'

'They're here because of me. You know that.'

'They're here because they realised that we're trying to escape the city,' France says firmly.

'The Master,' I argue, 'hardly ever leaves the Valiant. The only time so far in which he's deserted his base was to oversee how the search for America was going. He never sets foot on Earth, France. But he's here, in the flesh. Because of me.'

'So, what are you trying to say?'

'I'm trying to say that I'm a magnet for disaster,' I say heavily. 'I'm a danger to everyone. The Master's destroying everything in his way to get to me. This happened in London. He'll kill you and the others if it will mean capturing me.'

'But why? Why does 'e want you so badly-?'

'Come on!' I hiss. I can see the shadow of a Toclafane passing nearby and establish that they're in the alley. We have to get out of here.


The worst part is the silence.

At least when I hear the Toclafane or the guards, I know where they are. When I can't hear anything at all, who knows where they might be?

France still doesn't seem to understand what I'm trying to say. Bloody frog. I wish he'd get it. He'll die if he sticks with me. People always do. Perhaps it's the fact that I'm worrying about his life that's confusing him. We don't ever openly show concern for each other. I must be really weirding him out.

We race through the streets as far as we can, taking the long route around to where France reckons we can meet up with the others. We can hear the Toclafane leering and the humans shouting in the distance. Not at any point do we catch sight of the other nations.

'We'll find them,' France says, but he sounds uncertain. I'm slightly impressed (not that I'll let him know) with the amount of optimism he maintains. But he knows how hopeless this is in reality.

'I shouldn't come,' I insist as we crouch behind some bins at one point to catch our breath.

'Nonsense,' France says with an air of finality. 'You really do say some stupid things, Angleterre. Perhaps Amérique was rubbing off on you.'

'You should go south with the others, if you find them,' I say. 'I'll go east and look for America.'

'By your own logic, that's a bad idea,' France points out. 'You said you shouldn't be around others. And I know you would never willingly put Amérique in danger.'

'That's different,' I argue. 'He's with Martha. And she's the key to all of this.'

France is quiet for a few seconds. 'So she really could end this?'

I nod. 'The Doctor gave her a mission. Not to kill the Master. He would never want that. But Martha is going to succeed. She'll make the world right again.'

'Who is she?'

'A friend.'

'And who is the Doctor to you?'

I think for a second. 'An old friend.'

We get to our feet and continue running.


We practically collide with Romano.

The elder Italian twin is in hysterics and can't seem to get through a single sentence without at least one obscenity. He's been running practically the entire time without any rests, and has recently been separated from Spain.

'Damn Toclafane!' he hisses. 'Came right out in front of us. We had to split up.'

'Calm down,' I instruct.

'We'll find 'im and the others,' France adds.

'Those things are everywhere!' Romano says in a screeched, high pitched whisper. 'We're screwed!'

France grabs his shoulders like he did with me. 'Romano, listen. You need to stay calm.'

'We shouldn't have left,' the Italian curses. 'This was such a big mistake...'

'Get down!' I yelp frantically as a Toclafane swerves into sight, seconds away from spotting us. The three of us leap under the archway of a little alley between two houses, leading the the gardens behind. Once we've reached the grassy area, we climb over the fence and force our way through a wooded section filled with thorn bushes behind the gardens to reach another street on the opposite side. This one has small warehouses at the end of the street; somewhere for us to hide.

'This was the arranged spot in an emergency,' France says. 'If the others 'ave gotten away, they should be heading for 'ere like us.'

'What about Jack?' I ask. I'm concerned with what we're going to do about my friend, and fearful that the others are going to decide he's expendable.

'He's dead,' Romano says in a rather harsh tone.

'Don't,' France whispers to me as I open my mouth to argue.

'You lot can all reunite and figure out some stupid way to kill the Master- which, by the way, won't work- but I won't come,' I say forcefully. 'I'm going back for Jack, and we're going to find Martha and America.'

A loud cry of 'FOUND THEM!' from one of the men sends us scuttling into the shadows of of of the warehouses. I peer around the corner to spot a group of soldiers heading our way, and behind them, following along at a calm walking pace is the Master himself.

'Long time no see, England,' he calls. 'Didn't you miss me?'

'Go,' I hiss at the others, motioning that the three of us should run round the side of the warehouse to avoid getting caught.

But we've thrown ourselves into a trap. The entire area of the wasteland the clutter of warehouses is situated on is surrounded by a wall, topped with a barbed wire fence, the only opening to the compound being the opening we came through, the part now completely swarming with soldiers and Toclafane. There's no way we can climb that wall.

There's no escape.

France spots Germany and Italy crouching behind a warehouse opposite us, and Romano lets out a relieved sigh when he spots Spain with them. We're all hiding behind our respective warehouses, with only a road sized pathway of gravel between us. But the path is in clear sight of the soldiers, so there's no way we're walking over to each other. Germany has to cover Italy's mouth to stop him screaming excitedly at the sight of his brother, and Spain is grinning from ear to ear. Don't they realise we're all going to get caught?

'I know you're all there,' the Master calls out, and I shiver. 'Aren't you all a bit too old for hide and seek?'

Romano is shaking even more violently than I am. The Master's voice is fairly distant; I'd say he's around fifty feet from us, and for some reason the soldiers haven't come to drag us out from our hiding places. Why not? They know exactly where we are.

I suppose it's because the Master wants to place his little game his way. He doesn't want to make it too easy.

'Honestly. You should all know it's hopeless. It was never going to work. Might as well give up.'

'What do we do?' France whispers, and I realise that he's addressing me, despite the fact that I haven't got a damn idea what could possibly be done.

This can't be it. There's no way I can just get caught here. There's too much I need to do. Too many chances, too many dreams. I refuse to fall willingly into the nightmares once more.

'Come out, come out, wherever you are,' the Master sings, slowly walking forward and naming a different one of us with each step. 'Germany.' The tall nation's eyebrows knit together in a frown. 'Italy.' The auburn haired country whimpers. 'Romano.' His twin shudders. 'Spain.' The brunette bites his lip. 'France.' The blonde stiffens.

The Master stops. 'And you... England.'

Tap tap tap tap. The memories of the drumming come flooding back.

He's still quite far away. I should be able to whisper loud enough for Spain, Germany and Italy to hear, but not for the Master, the soldiers or the Toclafane.

Spain seems to be thinking the same as me. 'What now?' he says frantically.

As he finishes his sentence, Romano's nerves fail him and he panics. Quick as a flash, he bolts out of the hiding place he's sharing with France and I and throws himself towards the other three. There's no fire. The soldiers and the Toclafane have a clear shot, but none of them take aim. As Romano reaches Spain and the others, I risk peering round the edge of the building I see the soldiers with their guns pointed but not being used. And the Master still stands there, smiling.

I shiver and lean further back, turning my head slightly to see if France is having the same idea as Romano. But no, the other blonde doesn't seem to be planning on bolting any time soon.

'Which one was that? Italy or Romano? It's impossible to tell the difference at this time of night,' the Master says, amused. 'Any other takers?'

No one moves.

The Master continues his walk, heading closer, slowly and carefully. 'I'm going to give you to the count of ten to come out. I could have you dragged out, but where's the fun in that? No, I want you all to surrender. If you come out before I get to ten, the consequences for this little scene won't be too severe. Whereas after ten...' He gives his crooked smile. 'Well, you don't want to know. Let's just say, I don't need you. Not anymore. Your countries have been completely defeated. You're expendable. But you can keep your lives if you reveal yourselves. If you stay intact, that is. You will be punished, naturally.'

What frightens me the most now is the looks on the faces of the other nations opposite me. I can see it, plain as day.

They're considering the Master's options.

'You know what? You can come with me, back to the Valiant,' the Master continues. 'How about that? You can all get away from this wasteland your planet has become. I promise I'll be merciful.'

What would the Doctor do? How would he get us all out of this situation?

'Ten,' the Master says.

'There's no way we can escape. We're surrounded,' I hear Germany murmur.

'We'll figure it out!' I hiss, hoping he can hear me.

'How the hell can we? There's no time!' Romano snarls.

'He'll let us live if we go out there now,' Spain adds.

'I don't like this!' Italy whimpers.

'Nine.'

The only reason the Master is here is because of me. The only reason these other countries are in this situation is because of me. I did this.

'Eight.'

'He won't show you mercy,' I growl. 'He makes empty promises.'

'They sound pretty damn good to me!' Romano says. 'It's gotta be better up there!'

'Seven.'

'Better? Better?' I spit. 'You'll be right next to him.'

'Rather that than this place!'

'You are alive down here. More than that- you actually feel alive! You have hope! You have a reason to keep going! You have the resistance and your friends! And above all, you're not broken yet.'I lift up my sleeves, no longer self conscious. They have to see if I want them to understand. They have to know what will happen to them. It's dark and they're a few feet away but I know that they can see all the cuts, all the bruises, completely covering my skin.

'Six.'

'He'll break you,' I continue. 'He'll hurt you. He'll lock you away and only come in to bring more destruction. He'll destroy who you are and take away those you love and make you watch, until there's nothing left of you, and then he'll kill you.'

I'm shaking badly, though whether it's because of rage, fear of distress, I have no idea. They're looking back at me now, and their faces are stricken. They're finally getting it. Good. I take my eyes off Germany, Italy, Spain and Romano and turn to see what opinion France is reaching. But he's just staring at my scars. And he knows. He understands it better than they do.

'Five. You know that there's a third option, don't you, England?'

I hold my breath, trying to stop the shuddering coursing through my body.

'We both know that you're the reason I'm here. You could even say that you got the others into this mess. That this is your fault.'

Yeah, no kidding. Already established that, you monster.

'Just give up already,' the Master sighs. 'The escape was impressive, but it's time to come home.'

I almost gag when he refers to the Valiant as home and wrap my arms around my body, pressing myself against the wall of the building. What's he trying to say? That if I give myself up, he'll let the others go? Does he honestly think I'll believe him? I know he's a ruthless liar.

'Four,' the Master says silkily. 'I'm growing tired of this little game of yours, England. Time to come out of the shadows. If you're not out by one, the other nations will be gunned down immediately. Simple.'

A wave of terror spreads all over me. I feel France go rigid beside me, and I can't even bring myself to look at the other countries. But that settles it. He's not one to keep to his word, but I know that if I do this, at least there's a chance that he might spare them.

I push myself away from the wall and step out towards the street. Before I get there, France grabs my arm and spins me around. Right here, right now, our entire history is forgotten. France cares. I care. Neither of us want this, but I know that it has to be this way.

'Don't,' he says.

'Suicidal now, frog?' I say weakly, trying for the barest hinting of a smile and failing miserably. 'If I don't, you're all dead.'

'Three.'

'You said we could try and figure out a way,' he reminds me.

'No, the others are right. We're out of time. This is the only way.'

'Two.'

'Angleterre- 'e'll take you back up there- 'e'll break you-'

'I know,' I whisper. 'Be seeing you around, frog.'

'One-'

I wrench myself free of his grip and step out into the street.

The Master claps his hands excitedly and looks triumphant. 'Good, England! Knew you'd come round eventually!'

The soldiers' guns are all pointed straight at me and the Toclafane and bobbing up and down delightedly.

'Just let it finish,' I say tiredly. 'Please, just let it end here.'

'Are you ready to come home?' he asks, smiling.

'I...' My eyes glance to the left, to where France is watching me in shock, still out of view from the Master but easy enough for me to see. 'I'm ready,' I say.

The Master takes another few steps forwards. 'Good. Glad we settled this. Shall we go, then?'

'Y-'

France practically throws himself out from cover and quickly puts himself at my side, glaring ahead at the Master.

'What are you doing?' I hiss.

'You'll just go back to it!' he replies, equally forceful. 'Back to all the bad things you told us about. 'Ow can you accept that?'

'I have no choice.'

'Oh, are you joining us?' the Master asks. 'Want to come along?'

'No, he's not!' I snap.

More surprises. Spain steps out as well, clearly not wanting to see one of his best friends get taken by the Master, and he's quickly followed by Germany. The Italian twins scuttle after them.

Great. What the hell do they think they're doing?

'Don't do this,' I growl at all of them. 'Get out of here. You have the chance.'

'No, we don't,' Spain says.

'You were right,' Germany admits calmly. 'He goes back on his word. He won't let any of us get away with this.'

'He's just a lying bastard,' Romano adds.

'No one should be alone,' Italy says in as brave a voice as he can muster.

'We should stand together for this,' France finishes. 'All of us.'

They've lost it. They're crazier than me. And yet, at the same time... I'm touched. It's all about to end here but none of us alone. Like Italy said, none of us should be.

The Master seems entertained by the whole affair, to say the least. 'How very sweet. You're popular tonight, England.'

The others shuffle closer to me. We're bunched together, staying beside each other. I don't know what to think now. My head says this is bad. Some profound part of my soul says this is good. Would the Doctor accept it? A spell of humanity for the cost of lives? He'd love them for it. Each and every one of them. He'd also find a way to save the day too, knowing him.

The Master laughs. 'How admirable! It's a shame I'm going to have to break up the little party. I'm fine you lot staying here, but you have to come, England. As for you five... well, when I get bored, I'll pay you a visit. Still, I feel it's only fitting that I should part with a gift, so...' He turns to look at one of the nearby soldiers, clearly a commander.

'Kill Spain,' he says.

Before any of us have the chance to react, a loud gunshot blasts through the air and Spain's body slumps to the floor beside us.

All I can do is let out a little gasp. Germany shouts 'NEIN!', but it's too late. France cries out in shock and Italy and Romano scream.

When I look down, I can see it's too late. No chance of him having survived it. The bullet wound is on his forehead. He lies spiraled on his back, his eyes unseeing and one final surprised expression plastered on his face.

Romano throws himself over Spain's body, shrieking and shrieking in Italian. The others all cluster around Spain too. Italy is sobbing hysterically and Germany is holding onto him. France is clutching his head with shaking hands. He looks like he's about to have a panic attack.

I try to keep my voice even. 'Why did you...?'

'Kill Spain? Well, I was tossing a few coins earlier to narrow my list of candidates down,' the Master says. 'The final round was heads for Germany, tails for Spain, and, well...'

With a big shudder, I wrap my arms around my stomach. I feel so sick, so horrified and repulsed, I'm afraid the world is tearing around me.

'Did you a favour, when you think about it,' the Master said. 'I could have picked one of the others instead. I thought you disliked Spain the most. Or was it France? I can't remember. Do you even actually dislike them anymore? Oh well. It's done now anyway.'

'You m-monster...'

'Come on, England, you're stronger than that,' the Master chastises me. 'As much as I want you to break, I want it to be over something a little more personal. Don't break over one of your old nemeses dying, for crying out loud...'

I take a step forwards. 'How... how dare you? How could you?'

'Maybe they'll understand now. They probably didn't before, not really. I bet you warned them about breaking a spirit. About taking away what matters most. Maybe they'll finally get it.' The Master's eyes sweep over the other nations, and his gaze lingers on Romano longer than the others. 'Oh yes,' he says. 'It will make sense to them now.'

He motions at me to come forwards, to leave the others. My feet work like clockwork. He's not tapping anything right now but I can hear those drums of his in my head. Maybe he's put them in there, permanently trapped like they are inside his head.

Once again, someone grabs my arm, and once again it's France. But there's no force behind it. No emphasis. Just a small grip. Not enough to keep me here. But enough to beg.

The Master's wrong. I didn't hate Spain. I haven't done for a long time. Same with France. And I didn't even realise it 'til recently. 'Til the world came to an end. I don't hate any of the nations, not anymore. I owe it to them to care after all this. Spain's dead because of me. The others are dead because of me. France will be too, if he doesn't let go.

'Don't,' he says again, just like he did before I stepped out into the street.

With no force of my own either, I shake him off and walk towards the Master.

As I reach him, he puts his hands on my shoulders. I struggle not to shudder at the touch. He's still smiling. 'Good to see you again, England. The plane's waiting for us not far away. Jack's already on board. I would imagine he has been revived by now.'

The guards step forward to restrain me but the Master waves them off and puts an arm around my shoulders, steering me himself. We're leaving now, and I've gone numb. I can't resist. I can't do anything except glance back briefly to see the other nations still there, crowded around the body but all of them watching me leave.

'I'm sorry,' I whisper.


See you fairly soon, hopefully, and thanks for reading. And sorry. Obviously.

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