Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.

"Canada!" Italy screamed in horror as the nearly invisible nation rushed in to take a blow meant for America.

Italy had come into the room only seconds too late. Just late enough that he couldn't stop Canada from sacrificing himself. Holy Rome hurried to finish off the creature, but Italy couldn't tear his eyes away from the North American brothers.

"Canada?" America gasped, dropping to his knees beside his brother. "Why'd you go and do that? It was aiming for me!"

Canada smiled, even as he was coughing up blood.

"You're my brother," he said. "I'll protect you, America."

"But, I'm the hero," America tried to argue. "I should be protecting you!"

"You're an idiot," Canada told him. "Even heroes need protection sometimes, right? You have to protect the others. Promise me, you'll protect them."

"I swear it," America whispered. "Please, don't die on me."

"I just… need to rest…" Canada whispered as his eyelids slowly fell.

"Canada!" America screamed. "CANADA!"

Italy buried his face in his hands. This was all wrong! He should have saved Canada! Hadn't Holy Rome promised that he could?

"Canada's just unconscious," Holy Rome told America. "You'll have to carry him. We need to go before that thing comes back."

Italy was unsure when exactly Holy Rome had vanquished the monster, but he was glad. In his memories of this loop, that monster attacked America, wounding him before it was defeated by England. At least America and England would be okay. Maybe Canada would be the only one sacrificed.

"America!"

Italy looked up in horror as he heard England scream America's name. The island nation stood in the doorway. Italy followed his gaze to where America was being attacked by the monster. But hadn't Holy Rome just defeated that creature?

Italy looked up at his childhood friend.

"I thought you defeated it," he whispered.

Holy Rome refused to meet his eye.

"I'm sorry, Italy," he said. "It had to happen."

Italy stood up, fists clenched.

"No it didn't!" he declared. "You could have killed that thing and everything would have been okay!"

Holy Rome didn't reply.

Meanwhile, England was ignoring their exchange, focusing his efforts on protecting America and defeating the monster. Italy could only watch in horror.

"Avada Kedavra!" England screamed.

Italy sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands, sobbing. He didn't need to watch to see what happened next. The monster would disappear. England would crumple to the ground, only barely alive after using so much of his magic. America would be devastated.

"England! ENGLAND!"

America's broken sobs tore at Italy's heart. How could Holy Rome let this happen?

"There are two beds over here," Holy Rome remarked. "Maybe they'd be a bit more comfortable?"

Italy looked up to watch America carry his brother and England to the beds and carefully lay them out. Now that he'd stopped crying, America seemed almost okay. If you didn't look too closely.

Italy hated seeing America like this. Hopeless. Broken.

"We should go," Holy Rome told Italy.

"No!" Italy insisted. "We can't!"

"It's fine," America promised. "Besides, I want to do these two a favour and stay with them."

"America-"

America sighed.

"No, that isn't it. They can't hear me any more, so I'll tell you in all honesty...I want to stay with them. Till my last moment. Because they're both very important to me."

Italy knew that wasn't everything.

"And because you're going to... protect me."

America made a half-hearted attempt at laughter.

"Yeah. Even though I can't even move any more. But I'm not making a mistake. And I regret nothing."

Italy searched for the words to change things. This shouldn't be happening! But nothing he could say would make a difference.

"Go for it," America insisted. "I wish you luck."

Italy knew he had to go now. He had to find Prussia, and try to save at least him. But he couldn't leave America.

Finally, Holy Rome took hold of his hand and helped him to his feet.

"I'm sorry, Italy," he whispered as he helped Italy out of the room.

"What for?" Italy asked.

Holy Rome wouldn't look at him. Something felt wrong here. He felt… sad.

"Holy Rome? Why am I crying? Did something happen?"

Holy Rome gently wiped the tears away.

"I'm sorry, Italy," he said. "You'll have to remember that on your own. Now, we should go find Prussia."

"Yeah, you're right," Italy agreed, unable to shake the feeling that he should be sad about something.

"Hey! It's that weird white thing again!" Prussia realized, pointing at the mochi bouncing towards them.

"I was wondering where it had run off to," France remarked.

The mochi bounced excitedly up and down in front of them.

"He's kind of cute, actually," Prussia declared. "Almost as cute as Gilbird!"

The chick in question peeped in protest. Prussia laughed.

"I said 'almost'," he assured his little friend.

Gilbird huffed softly, but settled back on Prussia's shoulder, seemingly mollified.

"Maybe we should take him back to the safe room," Spain suggested, picking up the mochi. "It can't be safe out here for him."

"You're probably right," France agreed. "Don't worry, my little mochi friend. We'll protect you."

The mochi smiled.

"He really does look like America, doesn't he?" Spain remarked. "I mean, if America was a small white blob with facial features."

"You do have a point," France agreed. "It's rather strange, isn't it? The monsters who look like America's alien friend; this mochi creature; the fact that it was America who told us about this place. Everything is connected to America, it seems."

"Eh? Do you mean that America's the villain?" Spain asked.

France shrugged.

"Maybe," he admitted.

"But, didn't Italy tell America?" Prussia asked. "And anyway, America's as much a victim as any of us. You all saw how well he handled England's death, even when it hadn't even happened in this cycle."

"Maybe there are two Americas?" Spain suggested. "I mean, did anyone ever find out exactly what happened during that Civil war of his? Maybe there's a good one and a bad one. The bad one could be doing this and the good one is just as clueless as the rest of us."

"Spain, that's a pretty ridiculous idea," Prussia told him.

"It was just a suggestion," Spain replied.

The mochi in Spain's hands suddenly began struggling, its blue eyes growing wide with terror. The three friends looked at each other and slowly turned around. None of them were particularly surprised to see the grey monster standing there.

"This is like some really un-awesome horror movie right now," Prussia muttered.

"Shut up and run!" France screamed.

The other two needed no more prompting. As one, the three turned and dashed away, hoping that the creature wouldn't catch up to them.

Author's Note: Is it weird that my favorite parts to write are the ones where I'm tormenting Italy? I kind of love writing angsty stuff…

On another note, I just got Paint it White. Best. Movie. Ever.

Also, Spain's line about there being 2 Americas and the evil one being the Confederate States was inspired by The Result of Squiffie, who suggested the mochi was Confederate America. I love the idea, but I have other plans for mochimerica, so I figured I'd use it as Spain's theory. Seriously, it makes me sad that I can't use all the ideas I get, because they're all awesome.

Thanks for reading :)

Reviews will make me happy.