I am sorry guys. Rosey has exams and stuff so had no time to check this for me but I wanted her to checked it as I wasn't too confident with this one. I sort of lost my muse for a while so I wasn't sure if this was ok. I got it back though yay! Also I updated National Geographic.

Just so you know I did delete the author note chapter before and replaced it with the real Chapter 21

Right there is some OOC in this chap and some gross scenes.

eeerrrr I don't own Hetalia

"It's nice to see that you actually put ton frère somewhere comfortable, Portugal," the Frenchman commented sarcastically in an attempt to lighten the mood as he approached his friend's bed once the Portuguese nation had led them into the Spaniard's room. The walk through Spain's house had been creepy at best - while Portugal had had the forethought to close all the doors so the group couldn't see what the other rooms contained, the whole atmosphere of the house was just wrong compared to its usual cheerfulness, particularly for France and Prussia who had spent many enjoyable days together with the Spaniard in his home.

The dark haired nation simply shrugged in reply and pulled his guitar from his back. Yawning, Joao leant against a chest of draws and began to carelessly strum the guitar's strings, "It was the least I could do after hitting Irmao. If I didn't know he was possessed by a ghost, I would have left him on the floor. He tried to put me in chains and lock me in one of those rooms we passed amigo."

Although the Portuguese nation seemed to act indifferently to the idea of his brother being possessed, he was in fact terrified. He knew that England and most likely France could see right through his act, but he felt the need to act as if nothing was different. He didn't see the point in panicking when it did nothing to help the situation. Anyway playing the guitar always soothed him.

"If it was Pat, I would have hit the fucker around the head even if he wasn't possessed by some crazy ghost. His face just annoys me."

"Connor, you do realise that you actually look like your southern brother. If it wasn't for your hair and the amount of freckles you have you would be an exact image of him when he was younger," England teased the youngest, a small smile playing at his lips as the teenager became distraught.

The freckled nation clung onto his brother's sleeve (Scotland had given him a jumper before they'd departed) and began to whine, pointing out the differences between Ireland and himself.

"Ok love, I get the point, you are different, don't worry. Come here," the Englishman chuckled as he brought the teen into a hug, holding on a bit longer than he needed to. North didn't complain though and just held on tightly, making sure he was the last to pull away.

It was something that England had told him once when they were visiting survivors from the Second World War. The people they visited knew that they could trust the nations and that they were important but didn't actually know who they were. When visiting the children, Arthur had told him to always be the last one to let go, as you never know just how much they might need it.

Connor could tell that his brother broke away not because he wanted to, but because they needed to, they still had a job to do after all. When they broke apart, France was stood right behind the brothers and straight away began hugging the teenager. Not really caring, Northern Ireland decided to humour the Frenchman and allow it.

England chose to make no comment but instead began to perform the spell to enable the French and Portuguese nations to see any oncoming threats. Portugal watched with fascination from his position by the chest of draws as the mist spread, gradually forming a circle around all those present, including the unconscious nation.

Prussia watched the whole thing play out, he was still excited about the whole flock thing, but he also couldn't fight the feeling that something was going to go wrong. The Prussian knew that England was thinking the same thing, each time they caught each other's eye there was an unease hidden in the emerald orbs.

"Oh Prússia, nice to see you again, amigo, I thought it might be you - I just thought of all the possible people Arthur would be willing to have fight with him who are dead, you were at the top of the list. Rome did pass my mind but you said that he has passed on right Arthur?"

The Portuguese nation looked to his friend to receive only a slight nod in reply. The brunette frowned a bit, picking up easily on the Englishman's distress, but remained silent. England did not want to be spoken to at the moment, he just wanted human contact but wasn't going to voice it.

France also seemed to have read the Englishman's face and gave the younger blonde's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, causing the emerald eyed nation to look up at the Frenchman. Placing both hands on the angel's shoulders, Francis looked straight into the Englishman's eyes, his expression very serious.

"Mon ange, you will be fine. You have both Gilbert and Connor with you. You need to keep your wits about you, or who will keep these two imbéciles in place?" The Frenchman chuckled lightly when he received a two high pitched 'heys' from said 'imbeciles'.

England shrugged off the Frenchman, a small sigh escaping his lips. "You know, if you keep treating me like I'm made of glass, it's not going to make me any stronger. If anything it will make me think that I am. I appreciate what you are all doing, but treat me the same as usual. I will seek out help if I need it."

"You're not one to ask for help Birdie," Prussia snorted, but he understood where England was coming from. The Englishman did like to be treated more gently when the whole Egypt thing had first happened, but now he needed things to return back to some sort of normality. Prussia knew that he had to start acting normally around the Brit, but then their relationship hadn't really been normal since this whole thing started. He would have to brush past the blonde every now and then so the Englishman would know he was there, but that would be it.

He knew the Englishman didn't mind his ex-colonies fussing over him or Connor, judging by what he had seen, they seemed to sort of shower him with affection when no one else was around. He assumed that's what North was usually like as really every time he had seen the kid there was a reason for him to be angry or Ireland had been around. From what he had seen of the kid on the plane and since, he was a sweet boy who was up for a laugh and had a bit of a potty mouth.

France was not meant to fret over England. The Frenchman was one of the nations who had seen the Englishman at his strongest and weakest. The older nation knew that England wasn't fragile, so shouldn't be treating him as such. Yes, the Frenchman had provided England with comfort before, but that was when there was no one else to do so, it was the same the other way round. It had always been that way.

The two always had each other's backs, they would fight for the other in some way when needed. Despite the amount of wars they had partaken in against each other over the years, they did care for each other. They respected each other's strengths and only truly comforted each other when they felt like they truly needed it, when they were close to breaking. So France comforting him now, even though he wasn't in the danger zone any more, caused England to doubt himself, which he really didn't need at the moment.

"Hey! Gil, come back to us Gil. Stay away from the light, it's a trap. You were a bit of a bastard in your life so I don't think you will be going to heaven... Artie? You said that fucker, Rome went to heaven right?... Oh, you might still be in with a chance then Gilly. Stay away from the light though, we need your albino arse."

Northern Ireland was snapping his fingers in front of the ghost, a smirk on his face. The grin stayed on his face as he pulled back, then pointed to the unconscious Spaniard. The Prussian snorted as he watched the Irish nation mime swimming up to the knocked out nation and then mimed diving, pinching his nose and his cheeks puffed out with air.

Both France and Portugal weren't really paying attention to trio that were about to 'dive', they had said what they wanted to say beforehand while Prussia was in was in lala land. The English nation couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's antics, though he did wish that the boy could be a bit more serious, they were about to jump into a nation's mind and fight an angered ghost that could bend the battleground to their will after all.

"Alright Chickie, the awesome me will go first. Cannonball‼!" Prussia chuckled as he dived into his friend's mind. North was close behind, performing a battle cry at the same time. The angel sighed, catching Northern Ireland's body as it went limp, before gently laying him on the ground next to the Spaniard's bed.

"If I find out you touched my body Frog, I'll chop your bloody fingers off," the English nation threatened, not really meaning it as he knew the Frenchman wouldn't do anything. France gave him an innocent look and crossed his heart, but also waggled his eyebrows.

"Don't worry amigo, I'll keep an eye on him," Joao smiled, patting the base of his guitar as he did so.

"Oh, you can keep more than an eye on me mon ami, ohonhonhon."

"That's it, I'm going. Better not leave the gits alone anyway." The Englishman lay down on the floor next to his brother and left his body, diving into Spain.

Usually whenever someone dives into a nation's mind, they are met with darkness. This time though they were met with endless white.

Although Gilbert normally dove in after Arthur, he knew that this wasn't the norm. His thoughts were only confirmed when North appeared by his side a second later with a puzzled expression, considering how little time had passed since both of them had entered the mind, it should still be black.

Something wasn't right.

They exchanged anxious glances, wondering what exactly was going on. North wasn't 100% sure about the whole ghost fighting business, yes he knew a fair amount but not as much as his brothers. They had learnt most of what they knew from experience, compared to them, he was still a newbie. Prussia had even less experience, so had no idea what to do. So they waited for the English nation to appear, which shouldn't be too long, as he was more likely to know what to do.

As soon as England arrived their surroundings began to change. A room began to form around them. The environment remained mostly white, apart from the blood stains that sprayed the walls and puddled on the floor. The blood was both fresh and old. The ground became soft and padded beneath their feet.

"Where the fick are we? Is this weird for ghosts, or normal?" Prussia asked, his crimson eyes scanning the room. He was surprised that no one was attacking them yet.

The albino was completely oblivious to how stiff the Englishman had become, or that the Northern Irish nation had grabbed hold of the shorter nation's hand, squeezing it tightly. He did notice though when Connor started to talk to the angel, telling him that it was just the ghost, that he wasn't back there.

"Breathe Artie, it's not the same place. Remember, Ali made sure to burn that shit hole to the ground. He made you watch, made sure you knew that you were safe, that they couldn't hurt you anymore. Stay with me please Artie!"

Hearing the desperate tone in his brother's voice, Arthur locked onto the clover eyes in front of him. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to answer, "It's only us and them that know what the room looked like."

The teenager paused, it was true, it was only the Kirklands and the bastards who kept England there that knew what the cell had looked like. Fighting the panic that was building up in his stomach, North suddenly thought of something that would help his brother, "But you forgot that Alistair told everyone why you weren't at the meetings. He went into a lot of fucking detail apparently, made Liechtenstein cry, and Belgium, and Italy, and Ukraine. The rest were really pissed off. There were probably ghosts there listening in, the sick fucker is just trying to freak you out."

It was about now that Prussia realised what the teenager was talking about. This room reminded Arthur of the time when his boss at the time had sent him to the asylum. The room they had thrown the blonde into after every time they had tortured him.

Gilbert had heard from Francis what had happened that day. The brothers had stormed the place, splitting up so they could do more damage and find England quicker. It was Wales who found England having one on his daily shock therapy sessions. That room had never seen so much red.

Of course they didn't actually kill any of them, they were under direct orders not to do so. Patrick did get pretty close though when he saw the state of Arthur's room, it was surprisingly Alistair who calmed the Irishman down. It was usually the other way round, due to Scotland having a shorter temper than Ireland.

He was just about to comfort the angel when a new voice spoke.

"Patient Kirkland, so nice to see you again. How has life been for you?" a man spoke smoothly as he stepped forward into the trio's field of vision. He wore a long white coat and a stethoscope around his neck. He looked as if he was in his late 60s and had blonde, almost white hair and dark brown eyes. They were almost black, piercing eyes that looked as if they were about to dissect you. He had wrinkles around his mouth and eyes that were formed from the constant smirk that he wore.

"You arsehole, you're the one that broke Artie. Who the fuck killed you, and why wasn't it me?" Northern Ireland started to charge towards the ghost, but the ghost's smirk remained as white fabric shot up from the ground and wrapped around the Northern Irish nation's wrists, weaving into a strait jacket. The white fabric, still attached to the ground, shortened in length forcing the teenager to kneel.

"Looks like your brother has the same behavioural issues as you, do you remember what the punishment for not behaving is Mr Kirkland?" The doctor asked calmly while Northern Ireland was being bound in fabric.

Prussia went to dive after the teen only to be grabbed by the blonde, the angel's fingers practically digging into his shoulder. The Prussian span round, his anger flaring until he saw the terrified look in the Englishman's eyes. The blonde's grip only tightened when the doctor spoke.

Arthur was scared of this man. England, no, the former British Empire was scared of this man. Prussia understood why though, England had been told to not harm those 'looking after' him in the asylum by his then boss, who'd known that he had a habit of hitting people who told him to do something, unless under orders not to. Nations would follow their bosses' orders no matter how much they didn't want to, many of them wished they didn't have to listen to the voices of their country.

Now the man who had caused the once strong empire to turn into an empty shell, Dr Ernest Waters, had the ability to change the environment to his own will. He was also the man that had England's little brother on his knees. The little brother who was looking back at England with wide eyes filled with anger, fear and confusion.

"No! No! Don't touch him! I was the one who gave you grief, not him. I'm your toy, the unique one. He's a fucking younger version of that twat Ireland, I have wings for fuck's sake. Leave him alone!" The fear England had felt earlier evaporated and was replaced with anger and furious protectiveness.

The Englishman's eyes darkened dangerously and a powerful energy started to flow from his body, enough to make the Prussian feel uneasy. This had a different effect on Waters however, the doctor watched the Englishman with a sense of fascination and curiosity.

"I suppose you are right, I only really want you." The doctor's smirk grew crooked as he snapped his fingers and water started to pool around the Englishman's feet. A panicked yelp escaped the blonde as he jumped up, flapping his wings to keep in the air, his panic overriding the pain.

Prussia went to reach out for the angel, to attempt to calm him down when a strong force crashed into him. There was a bright light, forcing the albino to close his eyes. When he reopened them he was on the floor in Spain's room, along with an alarmed France, Portugal and Northern Ireland.

Reacting on instinct, Prussia immediately got up and darted over to the still unconscious nation. He ignored the yells coming from the other three present, all of them trying to figure out what had happened. Instead, he looked the Englishman's body over, noticing a new wound that marred his face.

"Fick! Those look like burns!"

The albino's loud exclamation caused the others to halt in their yelling - it was mainly France and North as Portugal was trying to understand what they were saying.

Hearing his distressed friend, Francis rushed to the ghost's side, kneeling by the Englishman's feet. As soon as his knees hit the floor, the Frenchman pulled back to look for the source of the water which was now pooling around the unconscious Brit.

"What was happening in there before you left? Why is Angleterre still inside Toni?"

"I fucking told you already you shitty Frog. It's that bloody doctor that was in charge of that fucked up asylum. He was starting to surround Artie with water after Artie yelled at him to fucking leave me alone, then the bastard somehow forced us out. I didn't know they could even do that!"

"What, so Arthur is alone!? Merda, and with that man who gave him hell. I didn't even know he was dead!"

"Neither did we!"

"Mon dieu! Angleterre is completely underwater!" the Frenchman gasped, shooting up when he saw how soaked the nation had become. His sandy blonde hair had turned dark due to the water and was swirling around as if caught in a current.

Prussia tried sitting the angel upright, to see if it would ease the drowning nation's breathing, but this only led water spilling from the Englishman's paling lips.

"Mein gott! I need to get back in there!" he yelled, standing up to get ready to try and dive into Spain again. He was halted by Connor who looked on the verge of tears. The teen shook his head, his mouth had turned as dry as a desert.

"You can't go rushing back in. The fucking environment can affect you too, it may take longer, but you will eventually drown. That wanker has too much of a hold on Spain's fucking mind, you won't be able to change it to suit you. Ali told me about what you did in the Yank's mind. I don't think we can help him," North croaked. He was terrified. England was frightened of water, he got nervous whenever he was by the beach or at a swimming pool - he was always sat next to the royal family or one of his brothers when watching the aquatic events at the Olympics - and now his brother was completely submerged.

In the background Portugal was talking through the earpiece, presumably to Hong Kong. The brunette spoke quickly, then waited a few seconds before he relayed the same message again, most likely to someone else. The tanned nation had a serious expression as he nodded to what he was being told, glancing every now and then to either Northern Ireland or England.

All the while, France was swearing loudly in panic as he performed CPR on the drowning nation.

Prussia was pacing by Spain's bed, quickly wracking his brain for an idea, anything to help the Englishman. His mind kept wandering back to that brief lesson he had with Old Fritz. That time was the key to it somehow, but what was it?

"Patrick says that if you cast a spell on Arthur, if will still affect him inside the mind. He said to use the gill spell amigo," Portugal informed them as he walked over to the teen once he'd finished talking to Ireland. The second eldest Kirkland had also told the Portuguese nation that the ghosts would be getting stronger due to how long they had been bound to the nation, the dagger used in the binding would have absorbed a lot of energy.

Clover eyes lit up as the youngest Kirkland took in what Portugal had said, relieved that the older nation was always able to stay calm when others panicked.

"Gills!" the albino yelled, snapping his fingers just as Portugal stopped speaking. Without explaining himself any further, Prussia took a running jump at Spain, praying that he would be able to reenter the Spaniard's mind.

The others watched in stunned silence as they witnessed Gilbert disappear back into Spain, his legs looking slightly blurred. Portugal gave North a gentle nudge to snap the teen out of his immobilized state, then gestured with a nod of his head to the Englishman, whose chest had stopped moving.

Both Connor and Francis got straight to work. The Frenchman continued to do CPR, swearing at England the whole time for making him worry, while Northern Ireland closed his eyes and, concentrating on his brother, began to mutter under his breath causing a purple glow to spill from his hands, almost like fire. The purple flames engulfed the angel, flaring brightly for a second before they dispersed.

France almost screamed as the he looked down at the Englishman. England's skin was now tinted green with faint blue Gaelic words winding up his arms. His hands and feet were now webbed and he had three slits on either side of his neck, which opened and closed in sync with the rise and fall of his chest.

"Ce que l'enfer (what the hell)?"

If it wasn't for their current circumstances, North would have laughed at the Frenchman's reaction. France had fallen backwards and scrambled away from the fish-like nation, his face scrunched up in both shock and confusion.

Being the collected nation he is, Portugal simply squatted down beside the teenager and started to count the seconds between the rise and fall of England's chest. Happy with the rhythm he tapped North's shoulder.

The proud teenager looked up to the Portuguese nation, his eyes still lit up due to him performing a potentially tricky spell flawlessly. His wide grin faltered when he remembered what they still needed to. The teenager frowned and lay down beside England, before his body went limp as his soul once again left his body.

The Northern Irish nation's soul flew around the Spaniard only to shortly return to his own body. Shooting up with a gasp, the young nation spat out a string of curses, enough to make a sailor blush.

"Fucking wanker. Shitting arsehole of a ghost, fucking blocked me out of the fucking Spanish bastard's mind. At least Gil can fucking help Artie, must be because he's a fucking ghost. For fuck's sake. I need to bloody help Artie later with unbinding Spain. Ah but the fucker will be out of it by then so I should be able to bloody help Artie. Great, now I need to talk to that fucker Patrick, or maybe Ali or Dylan can talk."

While the Northern Irish nation was ranting, both Joao's and Francis's attention was on the English nation. "Do you think that he needs to be underwater when like this, we don't need mon lapin drying out?"

"I don't know mi amigo, but it would be best to keep him wet anyway, just to be on the safe side. He seems to be breathing easily enough," Portugal replied, gently picking up his friend. The brunette went to head to the bathroom but halted when he reached the spell's perimeter, realising that that wouldn't be possible right now, and so looked back to the Frenchman.

The wavy blonde understood the problem straight away and hurriedly left the room in search for something they could use, maybe Spain still had a tub in the loft - it was amazing the things that nations kept from their past.

Portugal watched the Frenchman leave the room, his eye lingering on the door as it shut behind the blonde, before turning to face back into the room. Letting his attention fall onto the still ranting North then to the Englishman still in his arms, Joao wandered back to his brother's bed and propped himself on the edge. Anger flared though the Portuguese nation when he felt electric shocks from the Brit and burn marks marred his skin. Portugal found himself tightening his hold on his friend, wishing that he could be of more help.

The Portuguese nation wasn't particular about how wet he was getting from the water that kept leaking from England, he was more fascinated by the texture of his friend's skin. It was cool to the touch, and seemed to be coated in some sort of waterproof substance. It kind of reminded Portugal of a fish but it wasn't sticky. Concentrating on the faint, glowing words on the Englishman's arms, the tanned nation deciphered what they said. As not many humans were able to speak or read the old language, it took the nation longer than normal to read it the writing. They were the same words that Northern Ireland muttered earlier, Portugal realised.

Connor had calmed down after he had spoken to Dylan; it was amazing how the elder blonde was able to soothe someone. Wales had reassured North that he would be able to help England and would be able to feel when it was again possible for him to dive into Spain's mind.

The teenager couldn't help but feel more relaxed at the news that he could still help his brother. He hated that he wasn't helping him now, he felt so useless but there was no point in getting into a state was there.

Gil was with him. The Prussian would look after his brother, as his brother would to the ghost. Right?

Before he could think about it for too long, France came into the room looking victorious and incredibly smug. He pushed an old brass tub through the door and into the circle. Not even pausing to rest, the Frenchman immediately left the room again, going straight into the bathroom this time, and returned a few minutes later with a jug full of lukewarm water which he then emptied into the tub. Deciding to help the blonde, Connor joined in and started to bring bowls full of water back into the bedroom. He kept himself focused on the task at hand and tried not to allow his mind to wander, fretting over the Englishman. Before long, the tub was sufficiently full and Portugal gently lowered his friend's body into the water, careful of the blonde's injuries and wings. Now they could do nothing but watch over the unconscious nation's and wait.

Arthur reached out for the albino who was in turn reaching for him, he was terrified, and Gilbert knew it, but just as their hands were about to touch, a bright light blinded the Englishman. When he opened his eyes again, he found that he was alone, both his friend and brother were nowhere in sight. That's when he started to panic.

"So Mr Kirkland, you want to know how I died? No avoiding the water Mr Kirkland, I let your dear little brother leave! He didn't have to face his punishment for being disrespectful because you volunteered to take his place, so be a good boy and take your punishment!" the doctor snapped and a whip of electricity grew into his grasp.

With a crack, Waters brought the whip across the nation's. The blonde withheld a yell of pain and bit his lip, still able to keep aloft. Angry with the Briton's stubbornness, the doctor brought the whip down again, but this time striking the angel's back. A gasp of pain escaped the Englishman and, distracted, his wings ceased flapping causing him to crash into the water below.

A wave of panic ripped through England as soon as he touched the icy cold water and his body froze. All of his natural survival instincts were forgotten as he sunk into the water. His breathing stopped, mouth hanging open as if about to speak, and his bright green eyes shone with terror, staring at his watery nightmare.

The doctor continued to smile as he glided over to the angel, perfectly safe inside an air bubble that clung to his body.

"As I was saying Mr Kirkland, before you so rudely interrupted, I was killed by a sniper rifle. You know that I went missing from the country, escaped the watchful eye of your beloved police force. I knew it was stupid to stay within the UK as you had a great ability to find all the others that went missing. I only found out after my death that this was because you are a country and that if you concentrate hard enough you can find someone within your borders.

"I'm sorry, I got off track. I fled that island and set out to sea, I couldn't stay on land as my face was leaked all over the news. I was on a small boat when it happened. I had just sailed past a small fort when I just caught sight of something white and blue, then everything went dark.

"Becoming a ghost happened pretty quickly, a minuet after my death, I saw a boy standing over my body, wielding a sniper rifle. He looked like you but with blue eyes. I remember him saying that it was for hurting his jerk big brother. He looked so old for someone so young. The last thing he said before he chucked my body overboard, was that I could no longer hurt you.

"He got that wrong though didn't he?" The doctor's smirk grew wider as he brought the whip down again on the terrified nation's back. A scream escaped England's throat and precious bubbles of air floated away from his mouth, disappearing from sight. If it wasn't for his terrified state, the Englishman would have been able to prepare his body for the pain and therefore not reacted, but here, alone, faced by his tormentor and completely submerged in water his rational side stood no chance.

"Ah finally a scream from the stubborn country, we got hardly any of those from you. You built up such a resistance to pain that you hardly ever sung for us. That's too bad, the sound really suits you.

"Why is it different now? Of course I know why, I am the cause after all. You know Mr Kirkland, ghosts do like to gossip and you are often mentioned. You built up a fear of water since your stay at my lovely establishment. Wonderful.

"It was because we killed you so many times by drowning, wasn't it? We always did think that maybe we'd kept you under a bit too long and killed you, but you always came back round after a couple of hours, so we thought that we hadn't. Of course that wasn't the case though was it? We did kill you multiple times during your stay, but it was your status as a country that kept bringing you back. Fascinating.

"I'm so glad to learn that we broke you Mr Kirkland. Took you five years to return to yourself. Fantastic! To think we were able to break you even after all you have been through over your years as a country.

"Are you even listening? How rude, well if you drown now you'll stay dead, you can't revive a dead soul after all," the ghost chuckled, enjoying watching the Englishman's face turn blue from lack of oxygen.

Despite the tremendous amount of pain he was in due to the lack of oxygen, England was still too scared to act on it. His lungs felt like they were on fire, yet the water slowly filling them did nothing to extinguish the flames.

The man's coy expression turned into one of surprise then frustration when the nation began to glow purple. Not liking this new development, Waters took hold of the nation's now webbed hands and smirked yet again when he sent volts of electricity throughout the angel's body.

"Just because you can breathe now, doesn't mean that I can't kill you another way!"

"Not if the awesome me has anything to say about it!" A fist collided with the doctor's face causing him to wheel back in shock.

Knowing that there was now someone present who could be a potential threat, the doctor retreated to come up with a plan of attack for the albino. He knew that Arthur was strong, but didn't see him as that much of a threat as he knew the Englishman's fears, this Prussian however was a different story. The ghost was strong enough to force his way back into Spain's mind, what else was he able to do?

Not caring about the doctor, Prussia looked over his shell shocked friend and assessed the damage.

England was now breathing, but it was coming in quick shallow breaths. There were several burns on his skin that would need to be tended to later, but Gilbert was mainly concerned about the black finger tips caused by the shots of electricity that had just passed through them.

Arthur stared at the Prussian in front of him, his eyes showing signs of recognition, but his mind was too overpowered by his fear of water to actually do anything.

The more he stared though, the more he started to calm down and was able to make sense of his thoughts.

Not much had changed about Gilbert, he still looked mostly like himself except for the gills that were now visible on his neck. He also had webbed hands and flipper like feet, but Arthur's eyes were mainly focused on the albino's face, or rather his lips. Prussia's mouth moved up and down forming words but England was still a bit too stunned to make sense of them. The Prussian was pleading with him to snap out of it, that much he could make out from the way Prussia was looking at him. It was only when the albino put both hands on England's shoulders, did the fog in his mind start to clear.

"Focus on me Arthur, you are underwater but you can still breathe. Come on Birdie, take deep breaths and clear your mind. Calm down and we'll fick this pussy up."

The Prussian stared straight into the Englishman's eyes as he spoke and tried to smile to make light of the situation, knowing that humour was usually a good way to get through to the blonde. He was tempted to turn into a merman to make Arthur laugh but decided against it as he knew that would be going a bit too far.

Although he knew he should really be fighting the ghost right now or at least watching him carefully for his next attack, he didn't want to, couldn't, leave his friend to suffer alone while he was in such a state of shock. He needed Arthur to snap out of this anyway to be able to fully defeat this ghost.

He couldn't help but feel slightly proud as he saw the Englishman's eyes start to clear, it was working, the blonde was starting to come back to reality, away from the horrors in his mind. It was all over too soon.

As Prussia watched, a look of horror started to spread across the angel's face, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open slightly. Thinking that the situation was just getting to the Brit again, the Prussian just continued to reassure the blonde. He barely noticed the angel's blinks forming the Morse code for S.O.S, merely thinking the blonde was trying to clear the cloud in his mind. This all happened in a matter of seconds.

"Gilbert!" the Englishman managed to scream, he was mortified and incredibly worried. Prussia would have felt glad that the blonde had actually said something if it wasn't for excruciating pain that blossomed from his lower back and stomach. He knew he should have never turned his back on the enemy.

Ruby coloured eyes, bored into England's. Prussia's pupils dilated, almost completely covering his irises due to the shear amount of pain that wracked his body. A liquid similar in colour to that of his eyes started to pour from his wound, with a small trail trickling down from his lips.

"Gil?" England asked weakly, his fear of water dissolving quickly and being replaced with worry, and a need for vengeance, as he saw the harpoon that had torn through his friend. The point had ripped straight through Prussia's black hoodie and a lot of blood was already pouring from the wound, his already pale skin turning even paler.

Gilbert's hands fell from Arthur's shoulders and shakily landed on the foreign object protruding from his stomach. He wanted it out of him, but knew that removing it would just cause him to bleed out.

No longer having the energy to swim, the albino stated to drift down into the dark abyss beneath them. Immediately, England swam after the Prussian, completely unaffected by the lashes of lightning that scorched his skin.

The Brit grabbed hold of the albino, muttering a spell quickly. The pair were quickly enclosed in a diamond of ice, blocking the attacks from Waters. Forest eyes scanned over the full extent of the damage dealt to the ex-nation.

"Stay with me Duckie," the blonde attempted to laugh but it came out like a croak. Prussia was breathing harshly, every intake of air sent shooting pains up and down his body.

He was in agony. England knew that any amount of pain for the ghost would be magnified due to him having not been being able to feel for such a long time. The only things he could really feel were whatever happened inside a nation's mind, or if one of the British Isles brothers used their magic to cause him to feel something.

To receive a wound like the one he had right now would be torture to the Prussian.

Gently England bent over Prussia and placed a hand either side of the harpoon but not actually touching it. He gave the albino an apologetic look, which got an understanding one in return.

"Judging by the look you're giving me, you know what needs to be done?" the Brit asked, his tone was mainly emotionless, but there was a hint of remorse if you knew where to look.

Nodding shakily, Prussia readied himself for what the blonde was about to do, it was going to hurt like hell. He stared right into England's eyes and offered him a weak smile, if it wasn't for their current situation, England would have slapped him round the back of the head. Prussia wasn't meant to be trying to comfort him, it should be the other way round. It was doubtful that the Prussian actually knew what a fragile state he was in, he could easily cease to exist.

"Ja... ja... Just do it Birdie." It pained England at how quiet the usually loud nation in front of him was, this wasn't Prussia.

Giving the albino a stern nod, Arthur concentrated on the foreign object in his friend's stomach, his mouth saying unheard words of a spell. The harpoon started to dissolve away, allowing the blood to flow freely from the wound. A gasp of pain escaped Prussia as England quickly performed another spell causing his hands to heat up. Quickly the Brit placed his red hot hands onto the Prussian's wounds on the front and back, sealing them.

"Guess... that's... another one... you are... up... on... me... by..." the albino panted, he was dangerously close to passing out, it was only sheer will power that was keeping him conscious.

"Wanker, I would be dead if you didn't come back, and I was able to avoid this situation but was too much of a damn girl's blouse to do anything. I think that we should call it even.

"You know that isn't a proper fix, I will have to attend to it later. I have also placed a mild freezing spell on you that will cause your body to go numb. Don't move, I'll deal with this," England tried to comfort the ghost, and reassure himself. He was still... at unease with the doctor, but with the thought of what the ghost had just done still fresh on his mind, his anger started to boil over.

This man had messed with someone dear to the Englishman and now that Prussia was tended to, England could let his emotions take over. He didn't need to hold back anymore, he wasn't ordered by his boss to not harm anyone, and he didn't need to look after anyone either.

Prussia knew it too, even in his semi-conscious state he was able to see the change in the Englishman's demeanour. A dangerous glint sparked in his eyes, one similar to the look England had had when ruling a third of the world. The Englishman was dangerous and it was about to get worse.

The Prussian smiled to himself knowing that he was about to unleash a beast on the bastard of a ghost, "Go on Birdie, be a good little girl and beat up the aschloch."

He probably shouldn't have enjoyed seeing the rage flare so much in those green eyes, or sensing the dark energy rolling of the Englishman. Prussia actually pitied the doctor... a little bit... Not really.

Wordlessly, the blonde opened the ice cage and stepped out of its safety, into the open water, his rage over taking his fear. Having kept some of his rationality, the Brit looked back and caused a layer of ice to cover the entrance he had just made, but kept it clear so the Prussian could still see out.

An electric whip lashed at the blonde's face, but never made contact. England had grabbed hold of the whip, seemingly unaffected by the volts that were running through his body.

The ex-pirate sneered, wrapping the whip around his fingers as if it was only a simple ribbon. His eyes were downcast, examining what was in his grasp before looking back up again to meet the doctor's sharp eyes with his own wild ones.

Dr Waters was actually shocked at the sight of the nation, he had underestimated him. This thing in front of him was not a human embodiment of a county, it was a demon straight from the deepest pits of hell.

England's eyes were alight, his irises replaced with green flames, and his wings were outstretched behind him, the white feathers, overcome by shadows, flared out like claws.

Arthur's sneer grew into a confident grin as a dark aura hugged his fists. The darkness then travelled down the length of the whip until it reached the ghosts hand. Startled, the doctor tried to let go, but the whip had become like dark snakes that coiled around his hand. The black snakes then travelled up the ghosts arm and worked their way around the doctor's waist and legs.

"How?" the doctor managed to eventually ask after many attempts. This couldn't be happening, he had control over Spain's mind, how did England have so much control?

"Nothing to hold me back now princess. No boss to order me not to harm you, and my friend has been taken care of. You really shouldn't have pissed off a former pirate, mate," the blonde purred, causing the doctor's insides to freeze.

This wasn't the same nation that had entered Spain's mind a few minutes ago. This thing in front of the doctor was a creature created by anger, revenge and pain. The doctor had released the monster that hadn't been unleashed since 1940. The doctor had gone too far in harming the Englishman's friend and was going to pay the price.

The emerald flames that had replaced England's irises grew wilder as the dark energy imprisoned the ghost. Starting to panic, Dr Waters tried to think of a way that he could escape and kill the abomination who was holding captive.

Spears of ice torpedoed towards the blonde. Said blonde lazily scanned its surroundings and released the doctor before sinking down into the depths below him. The icicles missed their target, shattering as they collided with each other.

The ghost, now free, moved backwards and prepared his next attack on the nation, only to be surprised when said nation shot his arms out to his sides, forcing the water back to form a twenty feet wide hemisphere of air around the Brit with dry, solid ground at his feet.

The blonde swung his arms around, like a windmill, and did various stretching before taunting the ghost. The former Empire was playing with his former tormentor. What would happen when the Brit was no longer in the mood to play?

Not wanting to find out, Dr Waters sent an army of ice giant soldiers after the nation, which the Englishman had no trouble fighting against. He was showing off in fact, by sliding between their legs and jumping onto the ice giants' backs.

Prussia watched his friend fight from within the ice pod, feeling a bit nervous. This wasn't how England usually fought, he was actually enjoying the fight. Usually nations, although good at fighting and normally not particularly minding getting involved in it, didn't turn it into a game. Sure they usually tried to make light of the situation so they could detach themselves from the effects of war, but England was currently enjoying the fight and he wasn't even drunk. Prussia wasn't quite sure whether England was even fully aware of his actions as it didn't quite seem that it was the English nation, almost like he was the one possessed.

Gilbert watched as the angel smashed the last ice giant into tiny shards, smirking all the while. This nation wasn't acting like the one he knew and now he understood why the brothers got so worried when they saw Arthur really start to lose his temper.

"Got anything else to throw at me princess, you better keep me entertained or I will have to find a way myself to kill the boredom." England's voice had a slight central London twang, but also had a deeper undertone to it, it didn't sound quite right.

The Brit started to pace around the edge of the dry land, gliding his blackened fingers along the watery wall. Prussia actually pitied the doctor a bit when he hesitated, knowing full well that this England's way of killing boredom wasn't going to be pretty.

"Oooohhhh, what a shame. It looks like I will have to provide the entertainment." The Brit's face turned into a sad expression, as if he was a pouting child, before quickly turning into the stern expression of an angry teacher.

"I'll tell you a bit about myself doctor, seeing as you told me about your death. I am a fairly old country, not as old as some but older than many others. I have been in many wars, suffered through several serious illnesses and been tortured and killed countless of times.

"During the years of old, I, as well as several other countries, was accused of witchcraft due to how slowly we nations age. Said that I was the devil if my memory serves me correctly, they weren't too far off really. You know they were quite creative in coming up with ways of torture back then.

"Did you know that I received the same treatment as Guy Fawkes? They thought that considering that I represent the people, I should have known about the plans to attack the government. They only killed me once though, unlike you.

"I have been killed several times throughout the years, but I always had time to recuperate. You didn't give me time though. Although a nation can only fully die when they no longer have people to represent or something happens to their land, none of us want to die even temporarily. When coming back, all our history flashes past our consciousness along with the pain associated with them. You also become extremely aware of your people's voices, it is overwhelming and deafening. Not something that you want to experience on multiple occasions.

"You know what though, even though I should torture you, I'm not in the torturing mood, it takes too long."

Prussia could feel his consciousness escaping him, but even this close to passing out, he knew that the doctor shouldn't be sighing in relief. A cat like grin spread onto the Brit's face as he looked up to the ghost that was trying to hide in the watery shadows.

The blonde raised a graceful hand and a vine shot out of the ground by his feet and towards the doctor. The vine wrapped around the ghost's foot, then, as the blonde performed a sweeping bow, the vine snapped back, dragging the doctor with it and slamming him into the ground. Before Waters could comprehend what had just happened, England stood up straight again, both arms rose above him. Multiple vines shot out of the ground this time in the direction of the Englishman's raised arms, taking the doctor with them. The Brit then started to move his arms as if composing a symphony and the vines, moving to his will, continuously slammed the doctor against the ground and the wall of water.

After finishing the song that was playing in his mind, the Briton halted his composing and bowed yet again, causing the vines to retreat back into the earth. The doctor slammed onto the floor, his body broken. The Englishman waltzed up to his former tormentor and squatted down by the doctor's head, a chuckle escaping him.

He then shot his arms out to the sides yet again before pulling back to his chest quickly. Water whips shot out from the wall, wrapping around the doctor's wrists and raised him into the air. England repeated the action again, this time watery whips wrapped round each of his feet and one around the doctor's neck.

His eyes glowing brighter the Brit threw his arms out wide, just as he did the watery whips retreated back into the ocean pulling the ghost apart. Its torso fell by the Englishman's feet, but the nation remained unaffected.

Even though the source of his anger was now disposed of, it was still bubbling inside him and wasn't likely to cool down any time soon. He wasn't thinking straight and Prussia could tell even as his eyes were slowly starting to close.

The Prussian went to try and break from his ice prism when he saw North run up to the Englishman. He didn't have the strength though and was helpless when the Englishman span round, sword in hand, about to bring it against the teenager's throat.

"Artie?"

I'm Prussia...England...North...Spain...

I'm sorry everyone

I will explain why Arthur went a bit evil later.

On a brighter note for Rosey's bday I got her that T shirt which I made England wear at the beginning, it was round the durnk night though I'm not sure when.

Sorry again, the updates should be more regular from now but then it is Christmas and I'm not sure how this chapter ismeant to go which I'm writing now...

any was review and stuff if you want