Disclaimer: Like, I don't own Hetalia but, like I totally wish I did.

Chapter 2

Canada gripped the trashcan tightly as he threw up his lunch. He could taste the bile in mouth as he thought back to the image of America being forced to the ground as his assaulter kissed and touched him.

He finally got up from his crouching state and wiped his face.

He needed to show to the others, to which he hoped they already knew what had happened.

He grabbed his flash drive from his bag and shoved into the surveillance USB port and downloaded the graphic video.

His mind began to wander to the well being of America. Poor America who had been raped and was now probably in the embrace of England. England, patient, tolerant, and understanding, who loved America, would certainly give him a chance to explain what had happened. And maybe France would help him out and keep England calm. Other countries would probably end up restraining England from murdering the rapist.

Once the download was complete, Matthew yanked the flash drive out of the USB port and gathered his things and prepared to leave. He grabbed his bag and sprinted out of the room.

Because if he knew one thing, it was this

America was in trouble and he was going to save him.

But as he ran he missed an important event unfolding on the screen. America was alone in an empty room and outside the glass door stood an ominous figure. And the American didn't seem to notice a thing.

England, like many other nations, had agreed to meet up later for an informal party of course. Many agreed to come solely on the chance of free food and booze. Others came at the chance of catching a glimpse of the so call Bad Touch Trio's dancing.

He, on the other hand, had his own reason for coming.

He needed something to make him forget America and this party seemed a pretty damn good way to do that.

He watched from a mostly empty table as France, Spain, and Prussia began dirty dancing while others tried to avoid them. Italy had somehow pulled Germany from his seat and was trying to imitate the trio's dancing much to the German's displeasure.

He sighed as Prussia was smacked with a frying pan by Hungary after bumping into her. He took his glass and took a swig.

Alcohol had the uncanny ability to help him forget the most painful memories and make him downright unpleasant. Whenever he got drunk it was usually America who would drag him home and tell him what he'd done in his drunken state the next day.

He shook his head and dismissed the thought. America was out of his life now. He didn't need or want him anymore. He had betrayed his loved. What had happened was America's fault not his.

He took another long swig and then seat the glass down.

Many countries were dancing away the thoughts of America. Not many had genuinely cared when he had walked out of the meeting. The general feeling in the room had been good riddance.

He didn't even look at the American when he had walked out the door yet to be seen again.

He sank deeper into his chair. Sure America was gone but it didn't mean it didn't hurt.

Italy skipped down the hall on the way to the bathroom. He found himself in a surprisingly better mood now that he had something to distract him from the thought of America.

He hadn't really known how to feel about America. All he knew was that whatever America had done had upset Germany and made England sad. He wanted to mad to him but he couldn't find it in him, especially after seeing America being so sad.

Italy was pretty sure he came off as uncomfortable. His eyes were darting back and forth. His knee bounced up and down. And he was pretty sure; he sent a sympathetic look to America.

He pushed aside these thoughts and kept happily skipping to the bathroom.

It's such a nice evening, he thought cheerfully. Germany's in a better mood and Japan's dancing with Taiwan. She's so pretty and really nice. She has a nice smile and makes Japan happy. I wonder if-

"Oof!" a small voice exclaimed as he was pushed back slightly.

"Ve! Sorry, I didn't see you there!" the Italian apologized still smiling.

The smaller man looked up at him. He had blonde hair much like America's but a bit longer. He wore glasses that brought out his purple eyes. He looked eerily familiar and Italy felt that he should know him.

"I'm sorry. I feel like I've seen you somewhere. Have we met?" he asked the blonde.

"Italy. It's me Canada, America's brother," the man, Canada replied. "Do you know where he is? I need to see him. I think he's in danger."

Canada….. Where had he heard of him before? Germany? No. Japan? No. Prussia? YES!

"Oh right you're Canada! You're Prussia's friend. He told me about you once."

"Italy, where's America?" Canada asked again more forcefully ignoring what the Italian had said.

"I don't know. I haven't seen America since he ran out of the meeting," Italy replied.

"What?" Canada asked, if possible seeming even more alarmed. "What do you mean he ran out of the meeting?"

"He did something to upset England and he seemed really sad today," Italy babbled.

He didn't really take note when Canada's eyes widen and he began rummaging through his bag for his tablet and his flash drive.

"I mean I didn't really know what happened but whatever happened it wasn't very good," Italy kept babbling. He wasn't sure why he was babbling. Maybe it was because he needed someone to talk to and Germany and Japan were out of the question because they didn't share his sentiments. "Io davvero non so cosa pensare. Non volevo essere arrabbiato con lui, ma la Germania e il Giappone erano-"

"Italy, you need to see this," Canada cut him off.

The Canadian handed the Italian his tablet.

Italy watched in horror as America was forced against the wall and then to the floor. A man undressed America, pulling off his shirt and pulling down his pants as he…

"Mi dispiace! Mi dispiace! Mi dispiace! Mi dispiace tanto!" Italy exclaimed as he reached a near tears state.

"Italy!" Canada snapped uncharacteristically. "Find England. Find Germany. Find anyone who can help. America's in deep trouble."

He nodded and ran off to find someone, anyone who could help.

America sat alone in an empty conference room.

He had decided to drink away his problems with whisky and ale. Ah, yes whisky and ale two of his best, and possibly only, friends.

He lifted the glass to his lips and took a long sip.

It felt good to drink away his problems. It involved less thinking and feeling two things that right now hurt like hell. If only everything else in life were just a painless as drinking.

He frowned as he looked down at the table.

How could something so perfect become so wrong, so fast?

He had been wondering about that for some time now that England was gone. Their whole relationship had been perfect. They loved each other despite their differences and when they fought things were always patched up.

But, was that just an illusion?

Maybe they pretended to love each other because that what they wanted to believe. Besides, sometimes illusions are better than the truth.

But, was the truth?

He sighed and rested his head against the table.

The whisky and ale mix had lost its taste and he had lost interest. Damn, Canada for being right in telling him he couldn't drink away all his problems.

Despite the loss of interest, America took another swig of the whisky and ale mix.

"Ugh," he groaned.

He wasn't just disgusted with the drink but with himself. How could he let himself get caught up in something so fake?

He let his head rest again on the table and closed his eyes. Sleep was his only confidant now. Things that happened in its dark depths would never be seen or heard by anyone.

That pleased him more than anyone could possibly know.

The man looked in on the empty conference room.

The American representative, Alfred Jones, was asleep with a glass of alcohol and a bottle of whisky and another of ale.

He smiled to himself. Mr. Jones was so much more beautiful in his sleep. He was so much quieter when screaming and struggling.

He could remember touching Mr. Jones as he kissed the struggling American. It was lovely. Mr. Jones, despite his struggling, was a very good kisser.

And this time Mr. Jones was really alone. The other representatives were at a party in the hotel's ballroom and none had bothered to find him.

Now, was time for the fun to begin.

Translations:

Io davvero non so cosa pensare. Non volevo essere arrabbiato con lui, ma la Germania e il Giappone erano - I really do not know what to think. I did not want to be angry with him, but Germany and Japan were-

Mi dispiace! Mi dispiace! Mi dispiace! Mi dispiace tanto! – I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!

AN: Whew! That's a lot of writing. I had a hard time writing this so let me know what you think.

Anyways, Italy's found out what happened. LET THE GUILT TRIP BEGIN! But before that can start, we need to have a little fun with America. Stay tuned to find out more!

R&R!