A/N: So, this will be the last installment! Lots of thanks to those who stuck with this to the end. :)
...
Someone had stabbed him. Or, at least that's what it felt like. It was as if someone had stuck a rusty blade in his back over and over again. He cried out in startlement, collapsing on the ground. England laid in a feeble position, curled up into a ball, moaning in pain. Despite all the pain the Brit was in, he could not feel any blood pooling out. England coughed violently and shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself. The pain was so great that it was numbing all his senses. His vision blurred, yet something didn't allow him to black out. His breathing grew raspy.
"Does it hurt?" The Englishman had no strength to locate the source of the voice, and he had no strength to utter a single word. However, the voice spoke not in the area around him, but in his head. Metus, he thought, Stop this. Please, it hurts.
"Didn't you learn your manners, dear country?" Metus hissed inside his head. "The Golden Rule: treat others the way you want to be treated."
England couldn't even think straight. His mind was shot with unbearable agony. The nation managed to get on his knees, but a second after, doubled over with pain. He blinked tears out of his eyes. Suddenly, images that weren't his own flooded his mind. Over and over, it was one man, standing over broken nations with a triumphant look in his face. He was well-clothed and trim, seemingly spoiled rich more than others. He had a calculating, cold look in his eyes, as if to say, what can benefit me the most? A pompous sneer was plastered to his face, as if he were greater than anyone on Earth.
It was England. But, yet, it wasn't.
"You had it all," Metus claimed, "but only due to the suffering of several others."
Like an exploding bomb, cries and moans erupted into the Englishman's ears. With a yelp, England covered his ears, trying to block out the noise, but it droned on and on, with no signs of stopping. Stop it… England groaned internally. That isn't me.
"All of the terrible noises you're hearing now?" the host inquired. "That's from all the pain you caused. Can you hear them, England? Do you hear their cries of help? Yet, did you stop pillaging, colonizing, stealing?"
The Brit didn't respond. He remained still as stone, misery etched into his face.
"Admit it," Metus chuckled darkly, "you're a monster. You'll always be one."
I… know… The nation admitted, struggling for his words. You don't have to remind me.
Finally, the pain subsided, leaving a tear-cracked, tormented nation huddled on the floor. Taking an enormous amount of strength, the Brit heaved himself from the stage floor, using support from his podium. He breathed heavily, still wincing as he imagined the pain attack him again.
As England's vision cleared, he still couldn't find the game show host anywhere. The spotlight was still on him, yet there was no audience. The area was silent, giving off an eerie tone to England's surroundings. Unintentionally, his legs started shaking, in fear of what attack would come next.
This was crazy. He had to get out. He was starting to think that he could actually die here. He had to find America and- wait, what was that smell?
England looked down to find his hands smoking on the podium. Crying out in shock, he lifted his hands to find the words, vidi, marked next to the first word, veni. He leaned closer to the smoking words, examining it. What did it mean?
"Round three!" Metus appeared, right in front of England's podium. He too was smoking like the words. The Englishman flinched visibly, making Metus smirk.
"When can I go home?" England asked quietly, his energy drained.
"When we're done! Don't you want to see if you won or lost?" The host circled the Brit, looking at him as if it was prey. "You've lost so many battles over your colonies, and it seems that losing America was the final blow."
England struggled to meet Metus' eyes. "Not true," he claimed, unconvinced himself, "I still had Canada, India and parts of Africa."
"But they saw how the British Empire could be defeated. Thus, giving them a spark of hope. I mean, look at Ireland! He was inspired by America's actions, and tried to gain independence from you."
Metus snapped his hands, and America appeared in front of England, wearing his old, blue Revolutionary War uniform. England's old musket appeared in his hands, but he was too dazed and confused to notice.
"England," the host spoke quietly, his eyes flitting from the American to the Brit. "Aren't you going to shoot him?"
The Englishman seemed to wake from his daze, yet a conflicted look lingered on his face. The nation looked at the musket resting in his grasp. "I…"
America looked terror-stricken. His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth. No sound came out. He struggled to move, yet he remained still as stone.
England's face hardened. His eyes flashed murderously, and he positioned his gun to face the American. He stood in an offensive stance, ready to shoot.
"You stupid, misbehaved, pathetic excuse for a colony," the English nation snarled, his index finger touching the trigger. "How dare you defy me?"
Although neither of the countries noticed it, a third and final word appeared on the podium, smoking black. Defici. There were now three words laying across the podium. Veni, Vidi, Defici. The words then translated itself into English, from Latin. It read: I came, I saw, I was defeated. Metus simpered, delight written across his face. "Finish it! Win one last battle, England."
America stared pleadingly at the Brit, unable to do anything. It only seemed to anger England more. He scowled deeply, promising himself to never back off again. No one would ever use the mighty British nation again!
BANG. England's musket fired the shot, his weapon now smoking in his hands. He lowered it, his face grim. The smoke cleared, and the Brit could now confirm that his bullet ended right where he wanted it to.
"NO!" The game show host cried out, aghast. "You can't-!"
England kept his scowl, glaring at Metus. "You're a big arse and this is a really stupid game."
"I defeated you." He curled his fists, forcing more black smoke to emanate from his body. "You're mine. You admitted to your own fears, to your pathetic state you live in."
"You forget; I'm a nation, but I'm not the only one. I have what I need and that's all I want."
Metus stared at the big hole in his chest. Black blood poured out from the wound. His body started blurring, slowly fading away. The ghostly audience howled in disappointment. His smirk turned into an irritated sneer. "Congratulations, Arthur Kirkland. You have won. But there will always be a next time." With that, the host disappeared fully, leaving England and his former colony alone in an empty stadium and a single, metallic podium.
The Englishman glanced at his podium, finding the words, Veni, Vidi, Vici. Recognizing the familiar phrase, he translated it into English: I came, I saw, I conquered. It was reassuring to hear that, but it still gave him the chills. His stomach hurt, and he desperately wanted to flee back into the comfort of his home.
"Ugh," England turned to find America unfrozen, magically back into his own clothes. The American stretched, rubbing his head. "God, I have the worst headache ever."
The Brit surged forward, wanting to throw his arms around his taller companion. Then, he hesitated, thinking better of it. He patted America's back awkwardly, pushing him forward.
America gave the Englishman a strange look. "Are you okay?"
"Of course," he replied stiffly, "and you're a great, bloody idiot for dragging me all the way out here. There's nothing here, just like I told you."
The American groaned. "What a scam! I can't believe this! I wasted all this time-"
"And mine too, you arse!"
"-and now I have to fly all the way back." he continued, grumbling. "Hey, are you cold or something? You're shivering like crazy! Seriously, I'd lend you my coat, but you have such a big coat already."
England looked at himself, mildly surprised to find himself back into his familiar trenchcoat. Despite the warmth of it, his legs were shaking. He rubbed his arms, trying to stop the shivers. "I'm fine. We should go." The Brit looked around for an exit. He turned around, and saw a metal door that must've appeared as soon as Metus disintegrated.
As they turned to leave, America caught a glimpse of the words on the lone podium. He stopped, narrowing his eyes in curiosity. "Veni, Vidi, Vici…" the personification read out loud, making the Englishman wince. "What does that mean?"
"It's Latin. It translates to: I came, I saw, I conquered." England continued walking, not interested in staying in the abandoned area anymore. He pulled open the door, and it revealed the comforting view of the street. His BMW was right where he parked it.
"How do you know Latin?" America ran to catch up with the Englishman. They stepped out into the street, heading towards England's car.
"Don't you know? It's the popular saying from Julius Caesar." England stated. The two finally reached his car. The Brit opened the door to his car and got in the driver's seat. "It was his declaration from his campaign in Britain."
"Oh, yeah, I knew that." America sat opposite of England. He watched England start the car. Soon, they were driving off into the night. He glanced at the clock. "Wow, that took us an hour! That sucks."
The English nation drew in a deep breath. It seemed so much longer than that. "So, you don't...you don't remember?"
"Remember what?"
"We- never mind. Next time you visit, I'm picking the tourist spots."
"Whatever you say. It's too bad; I could've been on camera." America relaxed back into his seat, looking out the window. He fiddled with the radio, changing the station every few seconds, much to England's annoyment.
"Pick a station and leave it at that!" He slapped America's hand away.
Red, and yellow, and pink and green. Orange, and purple and blue! Can you see the raaaaaainbow?
"You made it land on a kid's station!" Fed up, America turned off the radio, making the two countries sit in silence. "Besides, that's not even a real rainbow. Remember, when you always told me that blue and green go together, like our eyes."
"You still remember that?" England asked, astonished. "Yeah, and you'd say-"
"We would always be by each other!" America finished, smiling. He elbowed England playfully. "We still are, after all these years, eh? Hah, it makes me feel like an old man!"
England returned his smile. "I guess we are."
At last, his BMW reached his house. He pulled into his driveway, turning off the engine, and climbed out, followed by America. They walked to England's doorstep. England tripped over his feet, feeling suddenly nauseous. He held his head, blinking several times. However, the other nation didn't notice. At the foot of the door, the two personifications turned to face each other. America took a hand out of the pockets of his jeans, holding it out to England. "I'll see you later, then! This was fun, huh? We should do this again!"
The Englishman took his hand, shaking it. "Yeah, of course. Just give me a call before you come."
America grinned in reply. He jogged down the Brit's stairs, waving goodbye. England frowned. "W-Wait, do you have a ride?"
"I got a rental car," the American called back.
"Are you sure you want to go to the airport at this time? Maybe you should stay the night-"
"Don't worry; I'll be okay. I have stuff to do next morning anyways. Jeez, I don't need you to be my Mom, England." With that, America got into his rental car. With one last wave goodbye, he drove off, disappearing down the street.
England watched America vanished into the night. He yawned, turning back to his front door. Unlocking it, he lumbered into his home, tired out. Closing the door with his back, he slid to the floor. England put his head on his knees, covering his head with his hands. Metus' cackles echoed in his head, shaking his sanity. He didn't want to admit it, but Metus was in control of him for awhile. The Brit actually felt compelled to shoot America. He wondered what would happen if he did. Would he still have won the game? Would it make him happier? Would-
All of a sudden, his home phone rang. It rang throughout the lonely house. England was too exhausted to pick up. It was barely daylight, for God's sake. He kept in his shelled-up position, letting the call go to voicemail.
Hey, it's me! What's up? Anyway, I just had a totally awesome idea. I'm at the airport, in case you were still worrying your butt off. But yeah, the idea! Next time you visit, we could go downtown NYC and, I dunno, go eat and see the sights? It's on me. Hope there's no hard feelings. Okay, see you!
England looked up. He couldn't help but crack a smile. What a bloody idiot America was. Although, he might just accept that offer. Slowly, he got up. Heading to his home phone, he checked if there were any other messages he had.
Hello, England! This is India, letting you know that I think our last Indo-UK Science and Innovation council went well! ..Even though, we didn't really...innovate things. But that's okay! I think we should meet to discuss future plans on our next council? Call me when you receive this message, thank you.
Bonjour, dear Angleterre! Tell me, have you heard of this new thing called 'Snapchat'? You have to download this app at once! Wait 'till I show you all these hilarious pictures I took of the others! Make sure you read the captions I put, haha!
Oi, you! This is Scotland. I'm just calling you to tell you that my box broke down, so don't come to my house to watch Doctor Who. Instead, I'll be coming over next Saturday. Make sure you get those fancy biscuits I like!
England's smile grew wider. He felt more comfortable now. Yeah, this was all the British nation needed. He didn't need to accept the past, but just accept the way things are now. He could deal with this life. After all, he wasn't the only personification around.
...
A/N: Yeah, and then that's it. How was it? I hope it wasn't too shabby for my first fanfic. I hope to write longer things than this. I can't believe I only wrote 4 chapters. It seemed so much longer in Google Docs. -u-" Thanks for sticking through the whole thing!
Reviews, reviews! I'd really like more- maybe on how to improve, what you liked and what you wanted to be added/changed? Lay it on me!