Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. All rights go to its creators.

Content Warning: A bit of violence and mention of blood/bleeding, shouldn't be too bad.

Chapter 3: England

England woke up to the sun rising high in the sky. He rose, wiping whatever crust was in his eyes away and got up to start his day. The clock said it was nearing 7 o'clock. Then he heard a loud knock on his door. "Tea drinker!" Belarus shrilly called through the door. England frowned going to the door and opening it.

"Good morning Belarus." He said irritation in his voice.

"Come. Lace up my corset. We have to start the day." She said before turning quickly, her hair whipping behind her as she walked into her room.

England stood blinking. He noticed her black stockings, outlining her slender legs. His eyes traveled up her back, noticing the black lace-up corset around her hourglass shaped waist. Her creamy pale white skin, and dirty blond hair in waves down her back. England felt his cheeks warm with blush.

Belarus looked over her shoulder, blue eyes meeting his green. She furrowed her eyebrows. "I said come."

England shook his head. "You need me to lace up your corset? What do you do when you don't have company?"

"I call Lithuania. You are here, lace me up." England followed her into the room. He felt the air around him constrict. It was suddenly several degrees warmer.

With unsteady but gentle hands he pushed her hair away over her shoulder. He exposed the lace, grabbing the laces with his hands and pulling them. She arched her back with an audible gasp. "Too tight?"

"No."

England could smell her scent, cherry wood, and rose pedals. England laced up her corset before tying it into a bow. "Done." He said, bringing his hands to his sides. She turned to face him.

"You may go freshen up." Her expression pointed and stoic.

England looked up. "Where are your towels?" The ceiling was a vanilla white colour.

"I will bring them to you. Now hurry! We have to get a start on today! I want to summon Big Brother." She pushed him with her slender fingers, nails slightly digging into his skin.

"Alright, Alright. Calm down." He said going out of her bedroom.

England let out a sigh upon starting his shower. Belarus wound him up so tight he felt like he couldn't breathe. Everything was tense and awkward more so on his own part. The dress Belarus wore did not show off her figure, but upon seeing her in her corset the seeds of attraction he felt started to sprout stems. He had to calm down. It was a one time thing; after this week Belarus would be out of his bubble of interaction and things would be back to the way they were before.

Once he was dressed, Belarus made him and herself boiled eggs, and they sat at her wooden table to eat them. After the room was silent save for chewing for a couple of minutes, he asked,"Do you by chance have any tea?"

"Not for you. I am saving it for Big Brother when he comes. We will have water now." She slides a clear glass towards him. Belarus watched him sip the water, having already cleared her plate and drank half her glass.

A few moments later England was finished. "Alright, where is a good place for me to summon him?"

She rose, "The basement." England grabbed his spell book and followed Belarus down a corridor to the rickety steps of her basement.

A space had been cleared for him. It seemed as though Belarus had hastily shoved all of her belongings to one side of the room. A stacked shelf with various weapons and artifacts of old was pushed against the wall. A trunk shoved against it, and haphazardly thrown in a crumpled pile on top were dresses through the ages. It wasn't perfect, but it would do.

England digs chalk out of his pocket and bends down to draw a summoning circle. Belarus is nearby, watching his every move. England stands opening his spell book and flipping to the correct page for demon summoning.

England began his chant. Words of ancient Gaelic left his lips before he ended with a list of names, "...DumbleDora the explora!" The circle emitted a dark purple aura, England felt the rumbling of the earth beneath his feet. "Is this supposed to happen? Where is Big brother?"

"Be patient!" He snapped at her, his own patience thin.

And then he saw that mop of platinum blond hair. "You called?" Russia asked with a smile. England watched, his heart rate increasing. Belarus ran to Russia, squatting down at his head. "AHHHH! Belarus!" Russia screamed as she grabbed his head to pull him up. "NOOOO!" Russia wailed as his shoulders became visible.

"Big Brother! You will be mine!" England saw Russia plead for help to him with his eyes but then England looked away.

England started to back away as Russia's torso became visible. His screams got louder. "NOOOO! Belarus! LET ME GOOO!" He cried.

"Just a few more tugs and I'll have you!" She said rising as she lifted him. England reached the bottom of the steps.

"ENgland PLEASE! Don't leave me!" He'd never heard the Russian nation sound so terrified. England stiffened.

"You may go Tea Drinker. I will start my duties Wednesday." She said as Russia struggled in her grasp.

England shaken with nerves, ubolted p the stairs. He ran to his room and stuffed his spellbook back into his luggage. He heard Russia's screams, muffled by the walls of the basement. England grabbed his bag and briskly walked out the front door.

England hailed a taxi. His nerves were still spiked from hearing the echo of Russia's cries. He fidgeted, waiting for the taxi to arrive, with every minute ticking by he felt his guilt catching up to him. It crawled toward his feet as a shadow intending to swallow him whole.

You left him. You left him! It's your fault!

It pounded in his head. He wanted to leave before he made the stupid decision to go back inside. He made a deal, and he couldn't go back on his word.

England used to be a pirate for God's sake, he could handle a bit of benefit at another's expense. He could handle knowing he caused one of the most sadistic Nations's missery for a short while.

Russia would have had no qualms about it if the situation had been reversed.

But moral dilemma aside, Russia scared him. England felt a chill, Russia could very well kill him the next time he saw him. And somehow a world of pain at the betrayal of Belarus was better than what unspeakable things Russia would do to him once he escaped Belarus.

England dropped his bag, dread falling upon him at what he was about to do.

When Belarus opened the door her face was anything but pleasant. "I said you could go Tea Drinker, what do you want?"

"O-oh um yes, I am going to leave. I hailed a cab, I just...need to use the restroom really quickly."

"Alright, make it quick. I want to spend time alone with Big Brother." England stepped inside, walking past Russia bound to a chair at the dining table. He went into the bathroom and shut the door.

How am I going to get Russia out of here? He only had a few minutes until the cab came. England looked around the bathroom, before spotting a toilet paper roll. He grabbed it and threw it into the toilet. Then he threw in some soap and a few other random items before flushing the toilet.

England grabbed some shampoo, dabbing a wad into his hand. "Belarus! Your toilet, it's overflowing! What do I do?" He called through the door. He heard the loud stomps of her boots on the hardwood floor.

The door swung open, "I didn't know you were such an idiot! ACK!" By then England had thrown the shampoo in her eyes. "MY EYES!" She screeched and England maneuvered past her. He ran to the dinning room where Russia was still restrained.

"You are to get in the cab waiting outside, take it to the airport, and do not wait on me."

"I was not going to. This is your fault, England so you fix it." Tosser. He could see the bloody twinkle of mischief in the bastard's eyes.

"I WILL KILL YOU!" England heard the thundering footsteps of Belarus before she slammed into him at a full sprint.

Russia now freed, flinched at seeing England tackled to the ground. Russia stepped over them and ran towards the door. England groaned at feeling his shoulder slam into the floor. He wrapped his arms around Belarus's waist to keep her from getting up to go after Russia. Belarus squirmed in his grasp. " Let go of me you bastard!" She raised her arm and stabbed him in the neck.

Fuck. In his moment of shock she got up and ran after Russia. England pulled the knife out of his neck, blood pouring profusely from the wound and slowly got up. He staggered after Belarus, his skin becoming sickly pale, and his vision blurring. He saw her chasing after the taxi. Taking an aim for her back, he threw the blood covered knife.

His vision blackened around the edges, and the last thing he saw was Belarus hit the pavement before he too collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Criticism Welcome.