Disclaimer: Do not own.

Spain noticed that Germany was looking weaker and weaker with every step. His face was set with determination, but it was too stiff, too obviously in pain. Romano marched along in the front of the small group, stubbornly refusing to look back. Which left only to Spain to point out the obvious.

"Germany needs a break."

"I'm fine," Germany insisted.

Romano finally turned around.

"You're not fine, you stupid potato bastard!" he declared after one look at Germany's face. "You can't just try to hide it! That's what my brother did and look what happened to him!"

"I'm not Italy," Germany said.

"No, but that doesn't mean you don't need help," Spain pointed out. "We're human here. Only human."

"I guess I could take a short break," Germany admitted. "But not for too long. I want to get back to the hideout, where it's safe."

"Of course," Spain agreed.

"There's a room with a bed here," Romano observed, peeking inside the nearest door. "It looks safe enough."

"Then let's take a break and give Germany a chance to lie down," Spain said.

Germany bitterly protested being forced to lie down, insisting that he wasn't going to break, but Spain noticed that he wasn't really fighting it. Honestly, Spain found that more worrying than his pale face or labored breathing.

"Don't let me fall asleep," German murmured, when they'd finally made him lie down.

But when he did drift off, neither Spain nor Romano made any move to wake him. They simply sat, side by side, leaning against the wall and praying for a miracle.

"How are you holding up, Lovi?" Spain asked quietly.

"I'm fine," Romano insisted. "I mean, I'm just as scared as you, but I'm okay. I want to destroy that alien bastard."

"Me, too, Lovi."

They were silent for several minutes after that.

"Do you ever-" Romano began. "No, never mind."

"What is it?" Spain asked.

"No, it's stupid."

"Just tell me."

"Do you ever wish I hadn't asked you to come?" Romano muttered, staring determinedly at the floor.

Spain couldn't help a slight chuckle.

"Is that really what you're worried about, Lovi?" he wondered.

"Shut up!" Romano snapped, blushing. "It's a valid question!"

"It's a silly question," Spain insisted. "You shouldn't need to ask to know the answer. I would never want you doing something dangerous on your own. I'm glad I came with you. I may be in more danger here, but I'm able to protect you, and that's much better than being safe without you."

"You're such an idiot."

"America! Let me in!"

England pounded frantically on the bathroom door. He knew that leaving America alone to sulk was a bad idea for many reasons. Especially now, when his whole world was collapsing. England was probably the only one who knew how much America cared for his brother. He was probably the only one who realized how useless America must feel right now, and how much America hated feeling useless. America always had a very direct approach to problems, and he'd never before encountered anything he couldn't defeat with his incredible strength. Now, when it really mattered, there was nothing he could do. England couldn't even imagine how he must be feeling. Crushed, surely.

"America!" he shouted. "Let me in, or I swear I'll bust down this door!"

"Go away!"

He was crying. England could tell. This wasn't good. Not good at all.

"America, you have three seconds to open this door before I bust it down. 3…2…1…"

"England, please just leave me alone!" America begged.

England had never had any real intention of breaking down the door, but the desperation in America's voice surprised him.

"Fine, I'll stay out here," England agreed. "But I'm not leaving. We can't have you sulking all by yourself. It isn't good for you."

"Fine," America replied softly.

"Look, do you want to talk about it?" England asked.

"No," America insisted.

England waited patiently.

"Yes," America admitted quietly.

"Then talk," England told him. "It'll be good for you to get it off your chest."

"I'm a hero, right?" America began. "And heroes are supposed to save people. Heroes are supposed to save everyone. But there've been so many people I couldn't save. No matter how hard I try, I can't save everyone. The first person I failed to save… the first person was my own mother. I don't know if you ever met her, but she was the one who first raised me, before you came. She was gentle and sweet and loving. But I was an ungrateful brat and I destroyed her. It wasn't on purpose, but it was still my fault. By the time I saw what I was doing, it was already too late. I couldn't save her. After that, there were so many.

Sometimes I wonder if all of them have become ghosts and are waiting to attack me with their crazy ghost-powers and I know- I know- that I'm being irrational, but it doesn't matter because I'm terrified. I hate the thought that there might be people out there who hate me. I don't want people to hate me. God, this sounds so stupid!"

There was a long pause.

"Go on," England prodded.

"Ever since we came here, I've been utterly helpless," America continued. "I hate it. Watching all of you out there suffering, while I can't do anything. Especially you, England. You have all this power, but you try to waste it and throw it away every chance you can get. And I can't stop you. And now Canada's been attacked and I could have prevented it. If I'd only tried a little harder, I could have stopped Russia. If only…"

"America, you're being absolutely ridiculous," England told him bluntly. "You can't blame yourself for everything. It's not your fault. This isn't some movie. In real life, heroes can't always save everyone, no matter how hard they try. You tried your best, and that's what's important. I know….I know I've scoffed at your hero complex before, but the truth is, I never meant it. I respect the way you always put yourself first, even if you're being an idiot. Sometimes I wish I was that innocent. There are a lot of things I've said to you that I didn't really mean. But, if you want to know the truth, I do miss the days when you were my colony, but it doesn't really hurt anymore. I'm so proud of you. You've become so much more than you ever could have been, under my control. I've missed you, but now I want a friend, not a little brother."

"A friend?" America repeated softly. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Author's Note: Oh, god, how long has it been since my last update? *checks* Nearly a month? I'm so sorry! I've just been so busy (and uninspired) lately. Musical rehearsals have been eating all my spare time. This chapter mostly came about thanks to two epic HetaOni USUK RPs on the livejournal event comm. Thanks for being epic Englands, Belugaaa and Gnortaku! It really resurrected my muse. Unfortunately, it'll be at least two weeks until the next update, because next week is hell week and I won't have any time for writing. Thanks for putting up with my lateness, guys.

Mini-cameo of Native America for Himona and ChulaEntertainment. Sorry it wasn't much, but I couldn't think of any better way to fit her in.

Also, have you all heard about the playable English version of HetaOni? It's amazing. Links in my profile.