Hey guys! Sorry for not updating anything for a seriously long time. Thankfully, though, I recently got some inspiration for a couple stories, and have been making some chapters! This story is included in that. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!

Warnings: slight depression

Song of the Chapter: For You by Manfred Mann's Earth Band

America POV

They were back in the field. Holy Rome's robes had turned from black with gold highlights, to white with red highlights. He turned to America as the door closed behind him. His bomber jacket was gone, and America was saddened by its absence.

"Alfred F. Jones, formerly the United States of America. I haven't introduced myself to you, yet."

America shook his head. "You don't need to, dude. If you don't wanna, then you don't have to."

"My name is the Holy Roman Empire." He continued on as if America hadn't spoken. He stuck out his hand.

America took it. "I guess I'm still The United States. I still feel like me."

Holy Rome nodded in understanding, and maybe even a bit of sympathy. "Let's get going."

America followed Holy Rome through a doorway that had appeared behind him.

America walked through and saw what he didn't expect to see: England's house was in front of him. He smiled. America walked up to the doorway, just as it opened.

America jumped back, as to not get hit by the door. England was standing in the newly-opened doorway, wearing a pirate's uniform, minus the big hat with the feather.

"France, I'll be back! Make sure to keep the house alive." He called back as he closed the door again and locked it. America smiled as England turned and faced him.

"Artie! How are y-" America was cut off as England walked right through America, literally. America turned frantically around, and watched as the Brit walked down his home's pathway, completely unaffected.

"Artie! Wait, Artie! What's wrong?!" America yelled, running after his former-brother. Something grabbed his wrist, though, and America looked back to see Holy Rome looking at him, quite sadly. "What's wrong with Artie?" America asked.

"That isn't England, America. That is the British Empire." He said, his voice void of any emotion except for a hint of sadness.

America stared at him. "What? No, Artie hasn't been an Empire for-"

"America, who started the downfall of the British Empire?" Holy Rome asked abruptly, cutting America off.

America shrugged. "I don't know, France?"

"No. America, it was you who started its downfall. You were the first colony to fight for independence and win against Britain. Then, after you defeated him, you didn't fall like the world thought you would. You rose to the occasion, becoming a powerful and feared nation, and even beating England for a second time. You inspired the rest of the British Empire to do the same. Now that you don't exist, the colonies weren't inspired to break away from Britain."

America's eyes widened. "So Artie's still an Empire?!"

Holy Rome nodded. "In fact, this is the house that is where the colonies and territories of the British Empire live."

America rushed to the door, and attempted to grab the lock. His hand went right through it, and the door.

"Just walk through the walls." Holy Rome said, taking his own advice. America followed suit, and ended up in the familiar living room of England.

Australia, dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt, was sitting on the couch playing video games with Hong Kong, who was sporting a red Chinese shirt and grey slacks. Australia's brown hair was as messy as always, and Hong Kong was messing it up more right now.

"It's okay, maybe next time, little brother." He said with an unemotional face. He stopped ruffling Australia's hair, and shut down his controller.

Australia pouted. "That was the thirty-sixth time in a row!"

America sighed. Suddenly, a familiar Frenchman's head popped around the corner. "Ah, Hong Kong, Australie. Get washed up and tell Nouvelle-Zélande (New Zealand), Seychelles, et Sealand to do the same, s'il vous plaît."

As the two countries on the couch got up and climbed the stairs, America walked through the door France had disappeared behind. What he found struck him immediately.

His twin, Matthew, was crying. He looked miserable: gaunt, teary-eyed, and very thin. America's heart lifted. "Holy Rome! Look, Matthew's miserable without me! He really does love me..." America felt like crying.

Holy Rome placed a hand on his shoulder. "I hate to say this, America, but you might want to listen to what they're saying."

"-cheer up, Matthieu! I am sure she will be begging you to marry you in no time!" France said happily.

Canada continued to sniffle, and Seychelles walked in. "Ugh, is he still crying about Ukraine?"

"Seychelles! Be nice to your frère! He was dumped after proposing! That could put anyone in this state." France scolded while putting freshly-baked croissants onto a plate.

"So? It doesn't mean that-" America tuned out the conversation, suddenly getting what Holy Rome had been trying to say.

Canada, his own brother, had been happier without him before Ukraine had broken up with him. That didn't count to the Ancients, or Holy Rome would not have said anything.

America sighed. "I don't think this house has anyone else that could possibly be happy without me."

Holy Rome put a hand on America's shoulder again. "I'm sorry, I really am. Now, do you have any other friends?"

"We could check Prussia's place..." America said, thinking about how happy Prussia was when America won the war against Britain. "He's always been happier when I'm around..."

Holy Rome smiled. "Älterer bruder (older brother)... Yes, let's go to Prussia's house."

British Empire (Britain) POV

Britain stopped dead. He was sensing some major magical energy. He scanned his front yard, and saw a faint doorway opening to the right of himself. Two figures were standing next to it, both wearing white. One of them, a man that looked a lot like Canada - though buffer, and hotter (wait, did he just think that?!) - had a halo floating above his head. The other looked faintly like a grown version of Holy Rome, though Britain knew that was impossible.

The man with the halo looked depressed. His shoulders were dropping, he had his hands stuffed into his pockets, and his overall facial expression revealed his emotions. Britain couldn't help but want to go over and touch his face, comfort him, and make him feel all better.

Britain shook his head. Now was not the time for this (besides! He didn't even know the git! That fine-arsed git... Dammit!). He snuck closer to the two. He could now make out their conversation.

"...can't believe Artie didn't even notice me..." The depressed man said. Britain flared at the long-hated nickname. How the hell did this man - whom he'd never seen before - know Scotland?!

The other sighed. Britain noticed that he highly resembled Germany... More than one should if not related... Just as the depressed man resembled Canada... "You know, he probably did. I bet he just mistook you for Canada."

Now that Britain though about it, wasn't there a Canada outside the door this morning?

"What about when he walked through me?" The depressed man asked. Britain suddenly got the feeling that he was the cause of this man's sadness.

"The wind. America, Egypt would not make the spell so easy to crack."

The man sighed, shifting his weight. His halo bounced a little. "I wish that I could take back this wish..."

The man with the white hat watched the depressed man step through the doorway. White Hat looked saddened by 'America's words.

"I know, America. We all do..." He fixed his white cloak, then stepped through the doorway.

Britain's mind was overflowing with information. He needed to talk to Norway and Romania as soon as possible.

Unknown POV

The Ancient smiled, seeing Britain take in the entire conversation. Just as she had planned. She looked over at her friend, who was still worried about being caught.

"What if we get caught? What if Rome finds out about the spell? Or worse - Germania?"

The Ancient smiled at her fellow Ancient. Her friend never was one for sneaking around, was she? "Don't worry. We won't get caught. We can't, or little America wouldn't have a chance.

Hey guys! Another chapter! Woo!

If you read The Hitwoman, then I went back and edited every single chapter and named each one! Also, I'm working on the first chapter for you guys! Still haven't thought of a title, though...

Thanks for reading! Reviews are welcomed, but not required!

~PurpleLuna98