Thank you all so much for the support in this F.F.! It means a lot to me! I own nothing, but the plot yada yada. And thank you to the person who informed me about the Soviet Union's satellite first in space! I changed it so it would be accurate. Please give me any reviews on any history stuff that I might have gotten wrong in this! Thanks!

England POV:

We had very limited bandages and all of them were used on America. What the hell did they do to him?! Every cut, we found 3 more! As we worked his breathing got more shallow and quick. I was starting to freak out. On the outside I would tremble and hum to United Nations Star, on the inside was where all of my emotions would run free. Nobody has been able to read my true emotions. Right?

"Monsieur, I ting Amérique is waking up." It was true, he was starting to stir and his eyes groggily opened. His blue eye still showing pain and misery.

"Ah, Alfred. You're awake." I said, helping him stand. He looked at me, which must have been hard because of his blind eye and the bandages on his neck.

"Man, I need a new pair of clothes…" He mumbled while stretching a bit before stopping abruptly.

"Alfred? Are you ok, lad?"

"They are doing something bad…" He mumbled. It was almost inaudible. Before France or I could respond he fell forward. Luckily Canada caught him before he hit the ground. A new gash appeared on his side and head. It was too similar to 9/11. Way too similar… He was trying to get suitable air it seemed. He was gasping and coughing, despite his position on the ground. Canada was rubbing his back in attempt to cease the hacking. No avail, we all started to panic when he was coughing up blood and phlegm. After a few minutes of solid coughing he was done. He leaned back and was restoring his lungs with the much needed air. Oliver was kicking a beam and Germany was watching him with confusion. A slight throbbing began in my foot, so I ran over to him and pulled a swearing Oliver away from the steel. Being England, I took his swear jar and held it out, indicating he had to put something in. He looked at me, then fell over laughing. Or in pain from his foot. Either way, he was laughing. He took his jar back and it disappeared. I helped him up, then we went looking around.

"I know why Alfred was coughing." He said while looking in the rubble.

"How? Why? What happened?"

"Al was…"

"Was, what?"

"Being gassed…" An uncomfortable silence fell between us as we searched. Footsteps sounded near us and we saw Alfred walking toward us, his gaze somewhere else. He stumbled a lot, but didn't slow his pace. He passed us and kept on walking until he reached a window and threw himself at it. There was a loud crash and we all ran over. We didn't even look at where he went, we only wanted to make sure he was alright. Inside were all sorts of clothes and a small portal. His face was cut on the cheek and I assumed he had more cuts elsewhere.

"YOU IDIOT!" I yelled at him, I met his gaze and it was lacking any emotion. No happiness, nor anger, nor sadness. Nothing. Although, his eyes had a red tint to them. He blinked and fell over.

"Awww! Fuck! What the hell happened!? Fuck! Ahhhh, pain!" He said while yelling on the floor. That would explain the red tinted eyes, the lack of emotion, and not hesitating before jumping through a window. Wait, now that I look at the portal, it looks like a mirror. Reflecting our world.

"Wait, where are we?" He asked while lying face-up on the tile and glass.

"I have no clue, you're the one who jumped through a store window." Oliver and Francois helped him up and we all took in our surroundings. It was a small department store. Thank god! We can get out of these bloody clothes and clean up a bit. We all went our separate ways, and an hour later we were all dressed in new garments. I noticed that Alfred had cleaned the blood out of his hair and had a new pair of glasses. He led me to a medical part of the store and we stocked up on what we would need in a new backpack that I found in my search of suitable clothes. While there I cleaned his wounds and re-dressed his cuts. While doing so, on his arm I found the word 'unloved' out of small cuts. I would have to talk to him about that later, for now we had our own realm to get to.