Hey, everybody. So...that whole "update sooner than last time thing"?

Ha. Hahahahah. Opps.

*finally uploads and runs for cover from angry people*

Btw, one (probably two) more chapter(s) to go. FINAL COUNTDOWN~

Russia sat down next to his sister.

He didn't bother leaving any room between them; it would just be closed soon enough anyway. Either by himself or Belarus he wasn't sure.

"Is the fire hot enough for you, brother? I can add more wood if you want."

To be honest Russia had not even noticed the fire, only the glow it gave Belarus's neck. His stomach twitched with disgust and hunger.

"Nyet. It's fine…" Closing his eyes helped clear his mind. After running away from her all his life, purposefully being close felt wrong. As long has he couldn't see her, he couldn't think about her, he could pretend it wasn't her neck he was going to bite, but America's.

America's neck… Russia grinned and leaned a little closer to his sister. Oh yes, America's neck was what he wanted. It's what he always wanted. Even when they were at war with one another, that neck was a prize. Depending on the situation it could be severed or bitten into, but after thinking about it, he was glad he didn't kill America those decades ago, and vice versa.

Belarus shivered at Russia's closeness. "B-Brother-?"

"Shh…." Russia put his index finger over her mouth. He licked his own lips and lightly brushed her neck.

Nyet…this isn't sister… This is America… America….

He smiled, the mantra-like thoughts successfully masking the truth. He didn't hear the high pitched gasp as he lightly bit down, arms wrapping around Belarus's thin shoulders and waist.

"Mattie! Answer the freakin' phone!"

Ring… second ring…third-

"Hello?"

"Mattie! I've figured it out!"

"Al?"

"Yeah, listen!" America flung his bomber jacket over his shoulder as he made his way past airport security. "I got stopped by the random search guys, probably because my thinkin' face is so intense, I told them nothin' was going on but they had to check my stuff and- ANYWAY! I think I know what to do!"

"That's great… What is it?"

America flashed his ticket to the attendant and various other airport workers in an attempt to get by faster. "Do you think you can do a spell for me?"

"A spell? Like, use one of Dad's books?"

"Yeah!" America smiled. "Those books should have all you need to know. Just gotta follow the instructions."

"O-okay.. uh…"

"Wait, can you get to the books?"

Canada put his hand over the receiver and looked over at his parents. England and France were currently sprawled out on the floor, too tired from fighting each other. France had scooted over and was sucking at England's neck.

Canada twitched. "Yeah, I don't think dad will notice…"

"Awesome. Now, this is the spell I need…"

The second Belarus's blood touched his tongue Russia's mind remembered that it wasn't America's neck his lips were on. It didn't taste the same, not at all. America's blood was warm and possessed something Russia craved. Belarus's tasted too much like his own: overworked, chilled and ancient.

She pressed close to Russia, but, much to his surprise, didn't wrap her arms around him in return. She made quiet confused noises every now and then, and her hands shook, unsure of what to do.

Russia felt sorry for her then.

He moved away from her neck a little and gulped down the blood in his mouth. "Sister…?"

She looked at him with teary eyes. "Ah…."

"Belarus…"

She wouldn't look at him.

"Bela-" He was cut off as she buried her face in his chest.

"I do not know what you are doing, brother…but whatever it is, I'm…I'm happy to be a part of it."

"…what?"

She clawed down the front of his shirt. "I know you would never get this close to me…unless you need me for something. And I'm… I'm glad to help! I love you!"

Russia held her close.

"Neck…," he said softy and brushed his fingers near the spot he bit earlier.

Obediently, his sister's head tilted back.

Something tugged at the strange muscle in his chest, and small tears swelled in his eyes, out of pity or happiness he wasn't sure.

At least in her last moments she would be happy.

"No, that's not the right spell! Try another book!"

Canada groaned and tried to pick another one off the bookshelf. None of the books on the table seemed to have the information America wanted, neither had half of the shelf apparently. Looking through old dusty books clogged up his throat, and the small print was hard to read in the dim light. America was demanding something so specific he wasn't sure he would even find it here in this little workshop of England's. And to top it off, whatever France and England were up to seemed to have progressed to a point where Canada couldn't look over there without throwing up a little.

"-there, Mattie?"

"Huh?"

"I said, you still there, Mattie?"

"Oh, yeah. And I think this one might have it?" Canada walked over the table and dropped the book unceremoniously onto it.

"Really? Cool!"

Flipping the cover open he started to read the table of contents, breathing a sigh of relief that it was in English and readable.

America glanced around nervously, not so much a fear of the flight, but the fear that Canada couldn't find a spell that would work for what he needed. A flight attendant came by and America took a Coke from her cart. He smiled at the fresh 'kshhhh' sound the can made when it opened, and took a big swig. The strong, icy cola snapped his mind back into focus a little.

Or maybe it was just the caffeine.

"…America?"

"Hm?"

"…How's this one sound?"

Russia leaned over his sister, sucking at the bite mark on her neck. Occasionally, he would check her pulse and frowned when the feeling of relief filled his chest when he found it. Killing a country seemed necessary when he first thought of his plan, and in his opinion it still seemed necessary, but his sister…

He wasn't sure if he would have it in him.

She currently lay on the couch as her brother drank her blood. Her eyes, loving, trusting, and frightened all at once, watched his every move. Slowly, her eyes drooped, unconsciousness threatening to take over.

Russia wished she would fall unconscious. He didn't want her to feel it when she finally did die.

I don't want her to die.

She has to die.

No, she doesn't.

Yes, she does.

I could find someone else.

I cannot find anyone else.

I couldn't forgive myself if I killed her.

I will forgive myself for killing her.

But would America forgive me?

Belarus's eyes closed finally, her breath becoming ragged and shallow.

He will have to forgive me. There is no other way.

America sighed. Mattie had found it, and, if the feeling of a ten pound weight on his chest was any indication, had casted the spell too. He wiggled around in a futile attempt to get used to the uncomfortable new sensation. A glance at his watched told that it was only another hour until the plane landed. Then, a straight shot to Russia's house (seemed to be the most logical place for Russia to be), and then the hard part starts. Hopefully, he wasn't too late.

And if he was…

Russia, please forgive me.

What is the spell Canada found? Will America catch Russia before Belarus dies? What the heck was France and England doing? Find out next time...