"B-Britain… ahh… I-it h-hurts… Stop! Ahh!" America could no longer tell how much time had passed since this game first began. Things started off like they usually did, but for some reason when it came time to ready Britain for entrance he wanted to dominate this time. It wasn't entirely unusual for Britain to do this and at first America thought nothing of it, but now… Now it was different. They would have stopped a long time ago. It was starting to feel uncomfortable, it was starting to hurt. But no matter how much he pleaded for Britain to stop, he would not. It seemed as though the car had been started without the drive in the front seat. If this didn't stop soon he felt as though he might pass out from the increasing pain. "Britain… ughnn… P-please!" He begged once again, digging his nails into the other's back. He shut his eyes tight and suddenly the movement stopped.

Slowly he opened his eyes to find a shocked look across Britain's face. "America?" He sat up and stared at his hands, shaking. He had lost control of himself and for what? He felt a mix of emotions overwhelm him. He felt guilty and angry. Angry at America; he knew he was keeping something from him about Canada's visit. Angry at himself, guilty for his actions; he hurt America over an unconfirmed suspicion. "I-I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me." He couldn't bring himself to look America in the face. He didn't want to see what the eyes looking back had to say.

"I've upset you… Haven't I?"

"N-no, that's… not it. I-" He needed to talk to America more about what happened with Canada, but just the thought of what he had already done; to add that he didn't trust him? He needed time to find another way to say this. "I'm going out." He began to slide himself off the bed when he felt himself being pulled back. America had grasped his arm.

"Please, don't go. If something is bothering you we can talk-"

"No!" He shook him off. "N-no… not right now. I have to go." He grabbed his clothes lying on the floor and began to dress.

"Is this because of me… being late?"

He wasn't going to let this go. "I… I don't know."

"I've already explained why… So I-"

"Have you?" Britain looked back at America realizing what he said a bit too late.

"Y-you don't believe me?" The sadness saturated in America's voice was overwhelming.

"I'm leaving now. Don't wait up for me."

America truly loved Britain more than anything. He wanted to keep him happy, he wanted to do whatever he could for him and now he felt like he was losing him. He screwed up, he made some mistakes, but he was only human. He didn't mean to do the things he did with Canada. It was an accident it just… happened. He didn't want to lie to Britain, but he knew if he told him the truth he wouldn't understand and he would lose him for sure. But after what just happened he wasn't sure he had much of a choice. It appeared he didn't believe the story America had told him.

He picked up the phone and dialed.

"America? W-what's up?"

"I need some advice… Can we talk tomorrow?"

"Sure, where do you-"

"I'll come by your place."

"O-oh um, ok. Is everything alright?"

"I… I don't know."

Britain never came home that night. Though America wasn't too surprised. He was sure he was probably at France's place discussing things he wasn't able to say to America last night. With a deep sigh he raised his hand and rang the doorbell.

"Coming!" he heard from the other side of the door.

"Hey, Canada…"

"Oh, A-America. Come in."

For a while they sat in silence on the couch, drinking some room temperature coffee Canada had prepared far too early for America's arrival. They were going to have to talk about this eventually so America figured he might as well start.

"Britain asked why I was late."

"H-he did?" Canada looked away and began to nervously fidget with his fingers.

"I-I lied… I told him about what happened when we first talked, before I said anything to Cuba. And I thought he believed me… But last night." America stopped to remember Britain's words. "He doesn't believe I've told him the whole truth."

"You're going to tell him?"

"I don't… know."

Silence ensued once more. Canada kept glancing from his glass back to America, clearly distressed. Even with the current circumstances his heart still pined for the strong, independent country. But America clearly regretted his actions; he wanted to make things right with Britain. So all he could do now was try his best to help.

"If you keep lying to him… it will only make it worse if he finds out on his own. You should talk to him… We should talk to him."

America looked up, shocked. "We?"

"I got you into this mess, so I should… help you fix it."

America leaned closer to him, with an earnest look. "Are you sure? You don't have to do this."

"I want to… Do you know where he is? The longer we put this off the worse it will be."

"He's with France, I think."

Canada stood up and reached his hand out towards America. "Then let's go there now."