Disclaimer: Um… yeah, no :)
Chapter 3
Italy ran down the corridor with Canada in a near tears state.
"I hope America is okay. Mi dispiace, mi dispiace, mi dispiace! I should have done something. Oh, God. Perdonami. Dio, mi perdoni," He thought.
"Italy, you can't cry now," Canada said, not unkindly. "America's in trouble. You've got to stay calm, okay?"
Italy nodded in understanding.
"Go get Germany, okay?" Canada said to the Italian.
Italy nodded again. It was a simple job and it was the least he could do for Canada.
He walked into the ballroom and scanned for Germany. It wasn't too hard to find Germany, who was up against the wall looking like he wanted to disappear.
He ran over the German and began yelling.
"Germany! Germany!" He yelled, sounding rather panicked.
Normally, people would have ignored him yelling, but there was something different. England, Japan, France, and other nations looked over. Maybe they heard the panic and alarm in his voice. But whatever they had heard in his voice, they dismissed it.
"What is it, Italy?" Germany asked him, sounding more concerned than usual. Did he hear the panic in his voice, too?
"It's America," He replied, his voice shaky. "He was… He was…"
"Was what?"
"He was… was… Fu violentata! E 'tutta colpa nostra! Tutta colpa nostra!" He cried, and he, despite Canada's request, burst into tears.
He realized that once he began to cry and had started to go off in Italian, the ballroom grew silent. The music died down suddenly and conversations had quieted down.
"Italy, English, please," Germany whispered, his face pale and suddenly more alarmed.
He shook his head.
"Say something, Feliciano," He urged himself.
He opened his mouth, hoping to say something. But no words came, just silence and more tears.
"Italy?" Germany gently asked.
He shook his head again, fighting back tears. He wouldn't cry anymore. Not right now, anyway. Canada had asked him not to and he would try to comply.
So, he ignored the German and yelled for Canada.
XXXoooXXX
Canada came to Italy as soon as he yelled for him. He had been watching them from a distance for a while now, watching as Italy dissolved into tears.
He had expected that to happen whether Italy was trying or not. It wasn't as if he could blame him. He would be in tears, too, if there wasn't something else for him to focus on.
"Yes, Italy," He said.
The Italian just motioned his head towards Germany. He was speechless and with good reason. Other nations had stopped dancing and chatting and began to listen.
"Canada, what is the meaning of this?" Germany demanded.
He grimaced and peered around the room, knowing that everyone else in the room were infatuated by the whole conversation.
"Well, since you're all listening," He raised his voice, "you might as well know that America-"
"I don't want to hear about America," England spat, cutting him off.
"What?" He asked, dumbfounded.
England ignored him and glared at the floor. Other nations seemed to do similar things when America was mentioned. France got a bit closer, in a protective manner, to England. Japan's eyes narrowed in an angry manner.
It was China who chose to speak.
"America was with someone else last night, aru," China said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"What do you mean?" Canada asked, quite alarmed.
"Ameriqué was caught last night making love to another," France replied coolly. "And that someone was not Angleterre."
When he heard France utter those words, Canada felt an unexpected emotion rise within him. He had expected that the others would be accepting and understanding of America's situation and would try to help. He had hoped they would have understood the danger he was in.
He was mad. Mad at himself for not being there right now with his brother instead of dealing with these idiots. Mad at everyone else for denying and shunning his brother.
"No," He growled.
He resisted the urge to smirk. That caught all of them off guard. All of them probably didn't expect that from the quiet little Canada. They denied his brother. This is what they got.
"What do you mean no?" France asked, sounding a bit uneasy.
"No, he wasn't," Canada elaborated as he thrust his tablet into the Frenchman's hands. "Look for yourself."
Nations then began to surround France, straining for a better view of what was happening on the screen.
France hesitantly tapped the screen and started the video. And when he did, his face paled and his eyes widened in alarm at what he was seeing.
"You forgot the volume," He added innocently.
Other nations turned on him in shock. France looked like he wanted to throw up. China's eyes seemed to ask if what he saw was true. Germany looked disgusted, while Italy began to cry harder.
"You weren't there. You didn't do this," He addressed all of them. "But by denying America, you might as well have."
XXXoooXXX
England was now officially intrigued.
Sure, he had dismissed any thought of America being innocent in this whole manner, but what Canada was saying was ridiculous, that by denying that backstabber, they had done something awful to him.
He got up from his seat to see what all the fuss was about. Most all the other nations had seen it already and most seemed disturbed.
He moved over beside France, who was pale and clutching the tablet, gently eased the tablet out of his hands.
"Let it go, frog," He said halfheartedly as France let go.
He began the video paused only a few seconds into the beginning and watched the terror unfold. America being forced to the wall by a stranger and then to the ground, being undressed and kissed and touched and….
"Oh, my God," He whispered. His grip loosened on the tablet in shock, sending it to the ground, only to be caught by Canada. "He was raped."
The world around him seemed to be muted as he sat himself down in the nearest chair. He couldn't feel the touch of France's comforting hand on his shoulder. He couldn't hear apologizes being mumbled all around him. He couldn't hear the sound of Italy or Hungary or Lichtenstein crying.
All he could hear was Canada's voice sounding more like an echo in his mind.
"He loved you so much. It wasn't him who threw away what you had. It was you."
XXXoooXXX
America opened his eyes and studied his surroundings.
"This is a dream," He murmured to himself over and over.
He was in a large glass tank with no openings. It had a large pipe attached to it. And the pipe itself ran back to a water boiler.
Outside the box, all the nations of the world stood outside; England, France, Russia, China, Germany, Prussia, Japan, Italy, Austria, Hungary, Turkey, Greece, Switzerland, Lichtenstein, Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Finland, Poland, Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia, Belarus, Ukraine, Spain, Romano, Egypt, and so many more.
The only one missing was Canada.
"Where's Canada?" He yelled through the glass and pounded on it.
France leaned over and whispered something to Spain and Prussia, causing the trio to laugh. England, who stood not too far from the trio, laughed along with them.
"No," He whispered. "England, why?"
He wanted to curl up into a ball and ignore what he was seeing. France's laughter. China's sneer. Italy's almost excited eyes. But that was until he began to hear the sound of rushing water.
He shot up in alarm and began pounding on the glass again.
"Please! You've got to let me out! Please!" He screamed.
The water was coming in faster now and was going past his waist. He spread out his arms to keep them dry.
"Please! Please let me out!" He continued to scream.
He began to float and that was never a good sign. That meant that he would run out of air and be pushed up to the top glass and die a cliché drowning death.
He was the hero; he couldn't die like this. He had an awesome reputation to keep up. When he came back to life, Prussia would never live it down.
'What if I don't come back?' He thought, the idea rising in his mind along with the water in the tank.
His face up against the glass now and he was sure now, it was too late.
He took a gasp of breath and forced himself back down. All the air in the tank was gone now. The only remaining was the air he held in his lungs which were screaming for air.
He began to pound on the glass again, hoping to break it. He could feel the glass vibrating every time he hit it. But it never broke.
All it did was take up his energy, his air.
His eyes began to close as his vision became darker.
'Let go,' He thought to himself.
And he did. He closed his eyes and let the darkness and cold water embrace him. Maybe not all heroes are heroes in the eyes of others.
XXXoooXXX
"Poor Mr. Jones," The man murmured. "Poor, poor, Alfred. Having a bad dream, are you?"
He stroked Alfred's head. He was instantly thankful that he had found a way to enter the room without alerting the sleeping American or the United Nations' security.
He gazed down lovingly at Alfred. The blonde stirred in his sleep. His face wasn't peacefully, like he had hoped, but that could be easily fixed, especially after a fantastic night with him.
"Oh, Alfred, no need to worry," He said as he sat on the table and positioned himself beside Alfred's head.
Alfred made a soft noise in his sleep and turned his head slightly.
"Everything's going to be just fine."
XXXoooXXX
Translations:
Mi dispiace, mi dispiace, mi dispiace.- My fault, my fault, my fault.
Perdonami. Dio, mi perdoni.- Forgive me. God, forgive me.
Fu violentata! E 'tutta colpa nostra! Tutta colpa nostra!- was raped! It's all our fault! All our fault!
AN: Okay, since my author's notes are kind of annoying, I've decided to move it to the bottom of the page.
Anyways, big news! I've got a beta, who I've got to give a big shout out to Midnight Alexis Thorn! She's amazing so don't be afraid to check out her profile!
School's starting up again so updates will be delay by a little(or a lot). But reviews really do encourage me to work more on the story.
And, finally a big shout out to everyone who review, favorited, and followed this story.
R&R!