Meg dipped her toes into the running stream, resisting the urge to squeal at the rather low temperature. Instead, she gritted her teeth, and kept submerged under the liquid, eventually adapting to the frostiness of the water. It helped that the bright sun was beating down on her back; she would probably get sunburn later. Her skin had never adapted to the sun. Unlike her sister Emily, who would tan in the summer, Meg would have to put copious amounts of sunscreen on to prevent herself from turning into a fried tomato.

A lump formed in the young Canadian's throat at the thought of her sister. Emily wasn't here right now. No. She was on the other side. She wasn't herself. She was one of them… those evil soulless beings who have no hesitation to kill just for the sake of killing. The thought made her feel absolutely nauseous. She had seen what they were like…those two Italians, then Alice's male counterpart. Evil. Pure evil.

Meg took a shaky breath, running her hand through her thick mass of tangled blonde hair. She frowned slightly; she desperately wished that she had an adequate brush. Her hair was one of those mysterious, frightening entities that never wanted to obey anyone or anything. Elizaveta had attempted to brush it out for her this morning, but to no avail. Meg was fond of the Hungarian woman; she had never talked to Daniel before, but if Elizaveta is this nice, than he must be pretty kind as well.

The Canadian's feet were now comfortably numb as she leaned back on her elbows, closed her eyes, and breathed in slowly, trying to clear her head. The last few days have been… chaotic to say the least. And scary. Extremely scary. She may have been unconscious for a lot of it, but there were these pockets of time where she'd be able to hear things, feel the burning pain that her body was experiencing…before slipping into darkness once again.

And now, here she was. In a strange world, surrounded by various gender-flips of fellow nations, and living with the constant threat of being demolished by evil beings…beings that happen to be other fellow nations. Including her own /sister./ Meg wondered if Francoise was either here somewhere, or lurking on the other side like Emily. The thought of the French woman made her stomach clench painfully; the thought of her as a lifeless, evil creature made her want to throw up. Her sister was bad enough.

They had already lost someone. A fellow nation had already passed, and it bothered Meg to no end. When she heard the news that Estonia had died, she cried. She spent the majority of the night comforting the other two sisters, unsure of what to say to them. So instead, she just let the tears fall as she held them each in turn, letting them sob into her shoulders. Meg couldn't begin to imagine the pain that they were feeling; if she lost Emily, Francoise, or Alice, she wouldn't know what to do with herself. No, she never wanted to find herself in that situation. She didn't want to see one of her loved ones go.

When Meg saw Estonia's motionless, breathless body… when she heard Elena scream in despair, the Canadian had made a promise to herself. She wouldn't let anyone go. No. Not before she got the hit first. After all, Meg knew that she couldn't do much else. She wasn't too skilled in combat, nor did she provide any useful information or tips for sustenance. She is the self-proclaimed sacrifice.

Meg knew that if she told Alice, Alfred, Gilbert, or any of them this, they would give her hell for it. As much as she appreciated the concern, the Canadian was sick of feeling useless. She wanted to be able to do something.

Before she could process another thought, she heard a voice right behind her.

"What are you doing out here by yourself, birdie?"

The Canadian immediately blushed at the voice. Of course it was Gilbert. She honestly did not understand why he seemed so taken with her ever since she met him. He was always there, wanting to carry her when she was tired, attempting to be her protector, acting so gentle around her while being so rash around everyone else… and then that nick name. Right off the bat, he had started calling her birdie. She never asked why he did so; she just let herself accept the name. Plus, it wasn't like Meg was complaining or anything. In all honesty, she found it adorable.

She remained still as Gilbert plopped himself beside Meg. He bent his knees toward his chest and leaned back, resting on his elbows. Meg glanced at him and blushed even more as she realized how handsome he looked under the glow of the sun. He frowned slightly.

"ScheiBe, sun isn't really my thing," he said before giving her a small grin. "Albinos and sunlight don't mix well."

Meg smiled shyly in return before turning to look back at the flowing water. She started absent-mindedly twirling a lock of her hair around her finger.

"I'm just thinking," she answered in a quiet voice, her eyes fixed on the way the clear substance seemed to just cascade gently over the rocks.

"Oh really? Care to enlighten me?" he asked, his voice taking on a teasing tone, causing the Canadian's soft grin to widen.

"Nothing exciting really. Just about…you know…all that's happened."

Her voice seemed grow a bit more grave at the last few words as the events played out in her mind again. So much has happened to her… so much change, damage, chaos… she was surprised that she was still here, sane and almost one hundred percent healthy.

Maybe it was the nation in her. All nations had been through hell and back at some point during their existences. But Meg also knew that nationhood didn't apply here. She was just as human as everyone else…as the local thief, as the small child playing in the woods, as the ailing mother, as the hard-working father.

Gilbert was silent for a moment before he let out a breath as well. "You are alright, ja?"

"Yes," she answered with a small laugh. "I'm perfectly fine…you know…"

She looked at him straight in the face, her eyes twinkling. "I'm not as fragile as you think I am, Gilbert. I mean…I may not be the strongest…and hell…I'm definitely not the biggest person around… but I know how to hold my ground."

The albino stared at her for another moment, his red eyes boring into hers, before he gave a slight nod, looking away, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I know you can…even though out of all of us, you have been the one to collapse first."

"I know that I have yet to prove myself," Meg continued calmly as she started to fidget her fingers nervously. "But well… I…"

She took another breath, wondering why she had decided to say this now of all times; she hadn't really been thinking about this much in the first place.

"I do have my uses, you know? When the time comes for me to be of assistance, I won't hesitate." She swallowed before staring back at the creek, her eyes seeming to calculate every particle of water that moved over the rocks. "I've always been rather quiet… and when I do speak up, no one seems to hear me because I've let myself be overshadowed by louder people. Sometimes, I feel like that I disappear… I don't want to disappear… and I don't plan to. I know…well… I know this sounds sort of funny… but I know that I will be needed eventually."

A beat of silence passed between them, and Meg's mind was racing as the blood started to flood her cheeks. She felt rather ridiculous for blatantly speaking her mind to Gilbert…a man that she didn't know very well. But in a way, she was glad that she had voiced her own opinion…and that someone had taken the time to actually listen to it.

"I know how that feels, you know… feeling as if you're going to disappear..." he said, his voice low.

Meg turned her head to look at him; he was staring forward, his eyes unreadable. She kept her mouth shut.

"When I lost my nationhood, I got so sick. I sincerely thought that I was going to die…and you know… everyone thought that I would legitimately disappear. But I didn't…" He gave a small snicker. "I'm too awesome to disappear."

He ran a hand through his hair a bit uneasily. "But it was hard. I was so afraid that I would just vanish one day. My country was gone…everything was gone. I had to live in mein bruder's basement… and I felt like nobody cared for me anymore because I was no longer significant. I didn't want people to forget about me, so I decided to be as loud as possible…to ensure that people knew that I was still there, and that I wasn't useless."

The Canadian bit her bottom lip, feeling the urge to say something; anything that would act as a form of reassurance. However, she had nothing. Meg cursed herself inwardly; she never knew the right thing to say.

Gilbert gave a small chuckle; it was soft and light, a sound not usual for him. The Albino grinned at Meg… a genuine smile that was devoid of deviousness, of a hidden smirk. Meg was taken aback by the sudden facial expression, her eyes widening in slight confusion and her heart hammering against her chest.

"Uhh…"

"I like you, you know."

Meg tilted her head to the side. The way he had said it…so casually, so confidently.

"T-Thanks…I guess."

"Unlike most people, you actually listen to me. People say that they listen to me, but I can tell they really don't," he clarified, turning his head to look back at the flowing water.

Meg's expression softened at his words. She looked down at her hands again, trying desperately to find the right words to say. Maybe…maybe there weren't right words to say. Maybe the Canadian was at her best when silent.

She let her eyes flutter to a close as she inhaled deeply, her lungs expanding richly with the fresh air. This wasn't too bad; here, in this moment, just sitting by the creek, at peace. She knew that it wouldn't last, that there were more horrors to behold…but she knew that this was the best that she was going to get.

Gilbert let out a small chuckle, a chuckle that caused Meg's eyes to open as she gazed curiously at him. He was still facing forward, a small trace of a smile playing on his lips, his red eyes still staring forward.

"You don't talk much, do you?" he asked, his voice soft, but full of light humor.

Meg blinked a few times, feeling her cheeks redden even more. She opened her mouth to respond, but then closed it, feeling that her voice would crack if she talked. After a few more seconds, she shook herself mentally and responded.

"….No."

"Do you not talk because you don't want to, or because you don't have the chance to?"

He was looking at her now, the smile still prevalent on his lips. His crimson eyes were twinkling merrily, and the sun seemed to bounce off of his snow-white hair, illuminating him, causing the Canadian's heart beat to quicken.

She thought about his question. The answer was a bit of both. Meg was a painfully shy person that preferred reflection rather than vocalization. However, she still wanted to be heard. It's just...her voice was way too quiet. No one took the time to actually shut their mouth and realize that someone else was trying to speak, to contribute to the matter.

It was only in the stillness, in the silence...that she could hear herself. That there was the possibility that someone else would hear her as well.

"…Both," Meg answered with a sigh. "I…well… I'm sort of nervous about talking to others to begin with, but when I do have something say, no one ever listens. They're all…all…" She frowned in slight irritation. "So loud."

She could feel Gilbert's eyes on her as she continued to stare forward, her eyes trained on nothing in particular, a trail of heat prickling up the skin on her neck. Nervously, she wiped her nose and snuck a glance in his direction.

"Kesesese," he snickered. "You're cute, birdie."

Meg rose an eyebrow at the comment.

"Look," he said, his tone becoming soft once again. "I don't think you're useless. I also think that what you have to say is very important. So… if you feel like you're being ignored or…shunned… just…well…"

He shot her a shy grin. "Just come to me and tell me everything. You listen to me, I'll listen to you. We got a deal, right, birdie?"

The Canadian's eyes widened as she stared at him, her heart now thundering against her chest as she took in his carefree, crooked grin, his confident demeanor, the deviousness mixed with sincerity present in his crimson eyes…

"Uh…why do you call me birdie?"

It was the only question that could form on her lips. Her cheeks flushed as soon as the words left her mouth. He had just told her that she could confide in him, and she asked him why he calls her birdie? She felt like smacking herself.

However, Gilbert just chuckled. "You remind me of my yellow canary Gilbird. You two are both very precious and cute; don't tell anybody that I admitted that. The awesome me doesn't use those words very often…so you better feel special."

With her cheeks on fire, Meg immediately looked away, a small nervous smile creeping onto her lips. What was she supposed to say to something like that? The Canadian felt a flutter of appreciation at his words as it all sank in. She was being offered someone to confide in, someone to talk to. Yes, she had gotten that with America and England, but rarely has she been able to truly talk to them… they never listen.

However, before she could respond to his words, or express her gratitude, she heard a voice calling from back at the house.

"Meg! Beilschmidt! Get back in here!"

Both their heads snapped around to see Elizaveta standing at the doorway of the house, still wearing an apron, a fiery, yet exhausted smile playing on her lips. She must've been up all night tending to the injured and comforting the distraught Baltics.

Meg and Gilbert exchanged a look before getting to their feet.

"We better not piss off the man-bitch," the albino said with a joking snicker that caused Meg to chuckle as well.

The two headed back toward the house swiftly, smiles both playing on their lips. However, before the Canadian could truly squeeze past Elizaveta, she felt the Hungarian nudge her gently in the shoulder. Meg looked up into the other's green eyes curiously. Elizaveta gave a slight smirk and winked before taking a few steps back to let her through. Meg blushed slightly at the implication and ran her hand through her sandy blonde hair as she walked through the door way.

The interior of the house was small, but it was cozy; the light from the wide windows streamed in, bathing the small, compacted space in a warm, rich light. There were various household items everywhere, rusted pots and pans hanging from the ceiling, and pieces of cloth draped over the sill of the windows. There were two stools propped up near the center of the room, where both Antonio and Katarina sat, their faces abnormally pale, their bodies draped in blankets.

Antonio's eyes were trained on the floor, his green eyes eerily expressionless. Katarina's expression was a subtle mix between a frown and a grimace as her eyes shot up to acknowledge both Gilbert and Meg. She gave a curt nod before saying, "Elena and Aisma are still outside. I don't think they're coming in anytime soon."

At the statement, Meg's stomach immediately dropped once more. Being reminded that Leena von Bock had died, actually died sent another chill through her body. She felt her eyes tear up like they did when she heard the news. Quickly wiping her eyes, the Canadian nodded to express her acknowledgement. She cast a quick glance at Gilbert. He looked genuinely concerned, but not devastated. She could understand why; he didn't know LeenaThe Baltics that he knew were all males. And they were most likely still alive…even if they were on the other side.

"Once everybody has woken up, I guess we're going to give a proper goodbye to her…whatever that means," grumbled Katarina, now looking down at the floor as well, her expression mirroring Antonio's. "And then Elizaveta said that we're going to have to leave as soon as possible if we want to get to Chikasti, despite the injuries."

"How are you doing?" Meg asked softly, taking a few steps toward the Southern Italian. She had helped Elizaveta tend to an unconscious Katarina earlier this morning. At first sight, she was horrified that she wouldn't be able to make it through the night.

Katarina winced slightly and shrugged, scowling. "I'm fine. Just a bit sore."

"Is it alright if I have a look?" Meg pressed gently.

The Italian looked like she wanted nothing more than to snap in response, but after a frustrated sigh, she relented and let the blanket fall. She wasn't wearing a shirt, but the whole upper half of her body, including parts of her arms, were tightly bandaged with gauze like material. However, Meg could still see that blood was seeping through the material. Due to the paleness of Katarina's face, the Canadian could tell that she was still hurting.

"You need more medicine…and some new bandages," Meg stated.

Gilbert remained silent at her side, looking at the Southern Italian with wide eyes. Antonio's eyes were still on the floor, his hands wrapping his own blanket more tightly around him.

Katarina cursed under her breath before glaring at her feet. "I'm fucking fine. Just leave me the hell alone."

"But…"

"Fuck off."

Meg's mouth snapped shut at the Southern Italian's demand. With a small sigh, the Canadian nodded. "Alright, but if you need anything, just tell me or Elizaveta, alright? It wouldn't be in your best interests to travel if you're injured like this."

Katarina grunted slightly, avoiding Meg's eyes as she shifted her body so that she was facing away from her. The Canadian gave Antonio one last glance, gulping at how ghosted over his face was before sighing and turning on her heel, turning left so that she could make her way to another one of the rooms.

She stumbled upon the room that Alice happened to be staying in. Meg cringed slightly at the sight of the resting English woman, who had her head propped against the three large pillows, both of her arms bound with copious amounts of gauze. Her blonde hair was a complete mess, and despite the fact that she seemed to be absolutely still, her green eyes were wide open and her chest was rising and falling with each breath that she took.

However, she noticed that at the foot of her bed, was Alfred, his head lying on the edge, his body slumped over, and his eyes closed. His steady breathing was almost a comfort for Meg, to realize that there were people here who were still alive.

Stepping inside quietly, she wondered if she would go unnoticed. It wouldn't be the first time that she entered a room without being acknowledged.

Alice, however, turned her head upon the first small step. Her eyes studied Meg for a second before a weary smile made its way onto her lips.

"Good day, Meg. I'm glad to see that you are on your feet, unlike some of us here," she stated.

The Canadian nodded in response, taking another step forward. "I see that Alfred crashed," she remarked lamely.

"Ah, yes. Quite the wanker he is," she said with a chuckle, a look of tenderness on her face as she looked upon the American. "A bit too rambunctious if you ask me. He's actually quite adorable when he's asleep and quiet like this."

Meg smiled slightly. She examined Alice fully, her heart starting to throb. Looking at her made her realize just how much she missed Francoise. The French woman was technically her mother. The person that was always there for her, always stroked her hair when she cried, actually noticed her more than the others did.

Alice, though not as close, was also a motherly figure. There had been times where the woman had taken care of her when she was sick, upset, or in pain. Even though, as a child, when Alice had driven Francoise away from Meg, the Canadian still grew to appreciate her. She had the privilege of saying that she had a family; Francoise, Alice, and Emily were her family. They were her everything, even if they did not get along half of the time.

But now, it was all torn apart.

Emily was now a heartless, blood-thirsty creature, and Francoise was missing.

It was just she and Alice now.

Though she had to admit that even if Alfred wasn't Emily, it was still like having her sibling with her. It filled the temporary void in her heart.

And she could sympathize with the American. He had lost his England. He had lost Arthur Kirkland, and his brother Matthew Williams. All he had now were Alice and Meg.

And that could easily be taken away as well. Now that they were mortal, they were constantly at death's doorstep. One mistake, one slip, and they'd be tumbling down. Vanishing forever.

Gone.

"Alice…" Meg started, a lump forming in her throat.

"Yes?"

"If I died, you'd still remember, wouldn't you?"

"…Now why the bloody hell would you ask a question like that?"

"I just… well… it can happen, you know? We're mortal here."

"Meg Williams, do not talk of such things. We will figure this out. I will be there for you, and in Francoise's honor, I will protect you with my life," the Englishwoman responded, a stubborn scowl on her face.

"Look at you!" Meg burst out, tears forming in her eyes as she thrusted her arms out. "Look how injured you are!"

"I'll be well in about an hour. This universe has a concoction that is reconnecting my bones…"

"No. Shut it," Meg snapped. "You were so close to dying, Alice. So was everyone else. Alfred here, could've died. Katarina and Antonio were both injured very badly. Leena von Bock died. She's gone, Alice. Gone! Promises may be nice and endearing, but they aren't going to help anything. We could die. Me, you, everybody. And then, we'd be gone."

She quickly wiped away at the tears that were spilling down her cheeks.

A beat of silence passed between them, broken only by the subtle sound of Alfred's breathing. Meg didn't dare look into Alice's face; she didn't want to see anger, agitation, frustration, or sadness there.

However, before the Englishwoman could say anything, the door opened once more and in stepped Elizaveta, a grim expression on her face.

"It's time to go outside; we are going to pay respects to the middle Baltic. Alice, if you feel like you are capable of moving, you may come as well."

XX

The day seemed to be coming to an end, yet the sun was still high in the sky. Even the wind seemed to still itself out of respect.

The morbid sense of dread hung over every single person standing in the middle of the small meadow by the stream; even though some of the nations didn't know little Leena von Bock, personification of Estonia very well, they couldn't help but wipe away a few stray tears.

They had lost a fellow nation.

Something they never thought could happen.

Yet, there she was, lying on a smooth, wooden platform, which sat perched in the middle of the lush green grass. Her face was as white as marble, her eyes closed, her lips pale and stiff. She almost looked like a statue; a peacefully sleeping statue.

The two other sisters and Elizaveta had prepped her for the farewell service; her long blonde hair was neat and combed, decorated with a plethora of pink and white flowers, she was wearing a long, thin, silky white gown, which traveled down the length of her slender body… oh how beautiful she looked. Her thick wounds had been drained and cleaned, leaving only thick, welts all across her chest and abdomen, which were covered by the white cloth.

The whole platform was surrounded by a myriad of flowers, matching the ones in her hair. She looked sacred, heavenly, like a goddess.

Elena Laurinaitis couldn't help but wonder if her sister would go somewhere. Do nations go to heaven and hell as well? Her sister had been a genuinely good person, right? Yes, she had blood on her hands, but that came with being a nation, right? Surely God couldn't punish her for that.

The youngest, Aisma Galante, was still in denial. Surely her sister would wake up eventually, right? How could someone like Leena die? The one who stroked her hair in the middle of the night when she started crying? The one who held her and cried with her when they were hearing Anya punishing Elena in the other room? The one who used to play with her hair and sing her lullabies when she couldn't sleep?

Leena had always been there.

But now, she was gone.

That just couldn't be right.

There were really no words to say.

The silence was enough.

Meg felt a strange coldness within her as she observed the scene before her, saw the beautiful girl upon the platform. What if that had been her there? She had come so close to it, hadn't she? What if Leena had lived, and Meg was the one being dressed in flowers while everyone bowed their heads?

Would Alice be the one at the foot of the platform, bawling her eyes out? If Francoise and Emily were here, surely they would cry for her as well, right?

Without another word, Elizaveta stepped forward, a stoic expression on her face as she pulled out a pack of matches she had bought from the market just east of here, struck one, took a deep breath, and lit the platform on fire.

Immediately, the whole thing went up in flames. The flowers, the wood, the body. All you could see was the gentle silhouette of a once-living nation being consumed by the bright fire, sparks flying up to the heavens, smoke ghosting up and up and up.

The crackling of the fire made Meg wince, yet she kept her eyes forward. If that were her, it would be because she made a sacrifice to save someone else. It would be because she had tried to make herself useful, right?

Elena backed up a few steps, her hand in Aisma's.

To everyone's surprise, she started to sing… something so beautiful… so haunting… something that stirred deep within the Canadian's soul.

Viire takka tulevad kolm
meresõidu masinat. Neil
kõigil suitsutorud pääl, vaat
kolm suurt laeva seisvad sääl.
Päev ju jõudnud õhtule, seab
meri ka end unele.
Vaiksemaks jääb vetevoog ja
tasa kõigub pilliroog.

Viire takka tulevad ka
unetuuled mõnusad; kui
katab tuuletiivake, siis
suiguteleb silmake.
Päev ju jõudnud õhtule, seab
meri ka end unele.
Laev las hällib lainetes ja
lapsukene hällis sees.

Though she didn't understand what the words meant, she knew that there was a deep connection between that song and Leena von Bock.

Meg watched the two remaining Baltics, still…immersed by the sight of their sister going up into flame.

And the thoughts came back again. The rush of questions she never thought she would ever have to worry about.

What would happen if I died?

Would I decay like a normal human's body?

Would I fade away?

Would I be remembered?

Forgotten?

Would it really matter?

Would people care?

Would people cry?

Would I be able to feel when I die?

Is there a heaven?

Is there a hell?

Will I be punished for my sins?

Will I see them ever again?

What happens? What happens when I die?