Disclaimer: Still don't own Hetalia really wish I did.

Chapter 6

Canada raced down the corridor with France on his tail, searching for a frantic England.

He had dragged Franc away from flirting with a woman, much to the Frenchman's displeasure. But he was the only one who knew how to reason with the Briton, not that he'd say it aloud and inflate France's ego.

"France, are we there?" he shouted to the man behind him.

"Oui, Angleterre should be somewhere around here," France replied inspecting the empty meeting room they discovered.

Canada examined the empty room. There were bottles of whiskey and ale on the table and a chair was on the ground. And what he found most disturbing was that there was no sign of Alfred, England, or Balderik.

"I don't think they're here anymore," Canada whispered, almost inaudibly.

He could feel his breath hitch and France's eyes land on him. They were gone. There was no way to save Alfred now, dear Alfie.

"Canada," France said shaking him slightly. "Mathieu, obtenir une prise de vous-même. There's something in the next room."

He nodded as France left his side and moved toward a nearby door.

There the sound of muffled yells and banging against the wall chilled his bones. Could that be Alfred? Could that be England being the hero?

He turned and faced France. The Frenchman's hand was hovering over the doorknob. His face was sheet white and his eyes were wide in apprehension.

"Ouvrez-le. Simplement fais-le," he said to France, his eyes trained on the doorknob.

France's hand turned the knob slowly causing Canada's heartbeat to speed up. His breath seemed to follow in suit speeding as well, making it seem as if he were hyperventilating.

Slowly France opened the door and moved inside.

Too scared to move, Canada stayed put letting France look first. He didn't want to see America on the ground scared, alone.

"France!" he called. "What happened? France!"

There was no response.

Unable to wait for a response, he rushed into the room. And, the sight he saw terrified him.

XXXoooXXX

"Angleterre!" he heard France in the back of his mind. "Enough! You've won! He's down!"

He could feel his body shaking as he pinned Balderik against the wall. This man was a monster. He deserved to die.

"No! It's not enough!" he shouted as tear began to fill his eyes. "You don't know what this man has done!"

"Non, you're wrong," imaginary France said to him. "I know exactly what he did. But look at Amérique."

He turned his down to face the American. He was unconscious, blonde hair sweeping over his closed eyes. The dim light seemed to frame the bruises on his face.

"This won't help him," imaginary France continued to say.

He shook his head in denial. He moved his hands away from the wall, letting Balderik fall to the ground. He covered eyes with his hands, feeling the salty liquid hit his hands.

He could feel the hands of France rubbing his shoulders back and forth in a comforting manner. France murmured words in French to him.

"Mathieu, "the Frenchman whispered to the figure standing silently beside him. "Get help. Call the paramedics"

He couldn't tell if Canada had left or not but it didn't matter.

"It's over now," France whispered to him. "It's over now."

XXXoooXXX

Beep. Beep. Beep.

America awoke to the constant sound of a heart monitor. He opened his eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the bright white lights of the room.

"Where am I?" he asked. He figured with how drugged up he was it came out as an incoherent jumble of words.

He turned his head to the side, revealing a young nurse tampering with the IV

She turned around in alarm, her eyes widening a fraction.

"I'm sorry, for waking you," she said stepping away from the IV. "But to answer your question, you're at the University Hospital of Geneva. I'm your nurse, Charlotte Ammon."

"Thanks, Charlie," he mumbled. "Why do I feel like crap?"

She laughed as she picked up a clipboard from a nearby table. Her chocolate brown hair fell across her face as she threw her head back slightly.

"You have two broken ribs and a broken wrist," she stated in a matter of fact tone. "You a slight concussion and you left leg is sprained."

Ouch, no wonder he hurt so much.

"That explains a lot," he groaned as he squeezed his eyes.

Charlotte smiled and shook her head.

"It must help to know that you have such caring family and friends," she remarked. "They want to see you when you're ready."

They wanted to see him? After casting him aside, they wanted to see him? How thick were they? Did they know what happened?

"I don't want to see them."

"Are you-"

"I really don't want to see them," he sighed. "But if a man called Mathew Williams is there. I want to see him. Please."

Charlotte pursed her lips. She seemed like she wanted to say something but shook her head against it.

"Of course," she whispered. "I'll get on that."

XXXoooXXX

AN: Double update! I'm on a roll!

So the guilt trip begins! I'm so excited to start this path to forgiveness for both Alfred and Arthur and everyone else. I'm sorry about it so short but an update's and update.

Also, I just wanted to say that my thoughts and prayers are with those affected by the Denmark attacks. No one should have to go through an ordeal like that.

Anyways, thanks and don't forget to review!