Disclaimer: I think you've gotten the point by now.

Author's Note: This chapter largely came about thanks to a request from littlecloudflower. It also incorporates a request from Medli45, a quote from the actual game, and (very briefly) an idea from VicodinFlavoredMints. (If you see me using an idea you gave me without crediting you, remind me. I probably just forgot.) And does anyone have any ideas on Spain and Romano? Cause I'm still not sure what to do about them.

"We probably could have beaten it if we actually tried fighting together," England remarked.

"Care to test that theory?" America asked, looking over England's shoulder.

"What do you mean?" England asked.

His voice suggested he already knew the answer. America said it aloud anyway.

"There's one standing right behind you."

England automatically turned his head to look at the creature, before his mind caught up to his body and reminded him that he couldn't see it. He could feel it though. A sort of evil presence radiated from behind him.

"How close?" he asked America.

"Too close," was America's only reply.

"I need an exact distance," England insisted.

"Why?"

England didn't reply. He couldn't. He knew what he had to do, but America wouldn't like it.

"You're going to use magic, aren't you?" America realized. "You can't do that! You'll kill yourself!"

"Do you have a better idea?" England snapped. "If only one of us can get out of here, I'd much prefer it be you. I'm just a burden to everyone without my sight."

The presence was getting closer. A few more steps and England would be able to pinpoint its exact location with his sixth sense.

"England! I won't let you kill yourself!" America screamed. "I have my gun. I can kill it!"

"You can't kill it," England told him. "These things don't die."

Just a little closer…

"England!"

England felt something crash into him and push him to the side. Judging by the fact that he was still alive, it had to have been America.

"What did you do that for?" he asked, attempting to sit up.

America's strong hands grasped his shoulders and held him to the floor.

"England, don't," he pleaded in a voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to see you sacrificing yourself for me again."

"Well than what are you going to do?" England asked.

A gunshot rang out.

"That."

"That will take too long," England told him. "If you just let me up, I can banish him in a few seconds."

"And die in the process!" America pointed out.

A second gunshot echoed in the still room.

"Stay away!" America screamed.

His weight shifted slightly.

"You said I could've taken it," he reminded England.

"I was just trying to cheer you up," England retorted.

"Liar!" America accused. "Let me protect you, please. I can do this. I need to do this."

England considered for a moment. Maybe, just this once, he could rely on America.

"You have two minutes before I magic that thing out of here," England decided.

"Thanks!"

Another series of gunshots rang out. Then came the horrible grating voice of the monster.

"You…Will…Not…Escape…"

America cried out, but England couldn't tell if it was in surprise or pain. He hoped it was the former and not the latter.

Another gunshot.

"England!" America screamed.

Suddenly, he was closer. England could feel his hand on his shoulder.

"What is it?" England asked.

"Oh, good, you're okay," America observed. "You spaced out there for a minute."

"I'm fine," England assured him.

"Great, because I think I have a way to get some of your magic back," America bragged.

"And what, pray tell, is that?" England asked, automatically falling back into the condescending voice he used whenever America made a suggestion.

"You could at least listen to what it is before you dismiss it as useless!" America snapped.

"I'm sorry. Go on."

"The shield-y thing the past you gave me," America began. "You can take it back from me, right? You can take back that power?"

"I could," England admitted.

"Then do it!" America demanded.

"I can't put you in danger like that," England insisted.

"You're putting me in danger by refusing to let me help you!" America screamed. "I'm not a kid anymore, and I'm not your little brother. I don't need your protection. I need you to fight by my side. And I need you to have the strength to do that."

England winced as America deliberately restated the words he had used that day in the rain, so long ago. When had the boy become so cunning?

"I'll do it," he agreed. "Just fire a few shots at the creature to keep him out of our way for a moment."

America's gun fired several shots in the direction of the monster.

England placed a hand on America's chest and began to call the magic within America back to him.

For some reason, it wouldn't come. He strengthened his call, focusing everything he had on taking back the magic he had given America. Something weird was going on.

A sudden jolt and he fell backwards. He lost contact with America, but that didn't matter. A steady stream of magic cascaded from America and flew into his body. So much. More than would have been needed to sustain the shield spell. Much more. Why was there so much power? But he already knew the answer, even as the question occurred to him. To protect America. His past self must have stored all the power he had left in America, so that his future self could protect America.

The last thin strands of magic coiled themselves within England.

"Open your eyes," a voice called from far away.

He did so. It was as easy as breathing. America's worried face slowly came into focus.

"England! Are you okay?" America asked. "You just flew backwards! What happened?"

"I'm fine," England told him. "Now get off me. We have a monster to fight, don't we?"

"Are you strong enough?" America asked.

"America, I'm stronger than I've been in a long time," England assured him. "Now, I don't think that monster's going to stand around all day waiting for us to finish talking. We have to fight."

America nodded and stood up.

"Need a hand?" he asked.

England nodded and accepted the gesture.

"Legilimens," he whispered.

"What'd you just do?" America asked.

"I linked our powers," England explained. "Fire your gun at the monster."

America did so, as England whispered another spell.

"Sectumsempra."

The bullet reached the creature and exploded. The monster staggered backwards.

America gasped.

"That was amazing."

"One more time," England ordered.

America fired the gun, England whispered the spell, and again the bullet exploded in the monster's face. England could feel the monster's weakness. A banishing spell would be simple right now. But as he was about to say the words, he looked at America. Maybe he could let America be the hero this time.

"Their head, that's their weak point," England whispered in America's mind.

"Did you just say something in my head?" America asked.

"Yes," England told him. "Now I'd advise you to act on it."

"Can you read my mind?" America wondered.

"Only thoughts you want me to see," England assured him. "Now hurry up and finish that thing."

"Right."

A bullet exploded out of America's gun and buried itself in the monster's head. The creature slowly faded away.

"I did it!" America cheered. "I told you I could do it!"

England smiled. America suddenly wrapped him in a tight hug, which England hesitantly returned.

"I saved you, so that makes me a hero! Right?"

"I suppose it does," England conceded. "But you didn't exactly save me. We saved each other."

America laughed.

"Yeah, I guess we did."

"By the way," England remarked. "I think there's a question you should ask me again."

America looked confused for a moment before his face burst in an even bigger grin. He held up his hand in front of England's face.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three."

England, powerless, gripped America's hand tightly as he waited for the end to come. At least he knew his sacrifice wasn't completely in vain. He turned his head to look at America- his America- and found the younger nation staring back at him, afraid but smiling. That was all he needed to know he'd made the right choice. Present or future, it didn't matter. America was America and England would do whatever it took to protect his former colony. He knew his future self would do the same. He wished himself luck.

"America, I paid you back.

Please, take my power to the future.

If you're a hero, you can do it, can't you?"

Thanks for reading.

Review and tell me what you think should happen next (How do I get Spain and Romano back to the right time? etc)