"Why'd you do it?"
Canada held his hand. It was so cold.
"Why'd you kill me, bro?"
A humourless laugh pierced the silence like the knife used to murder him. "I lost it...I actually did it...You'll never forget my name now, will you?" A twisted smile appeared and disappeared in seconds, being replaced by a sweet, innocent one. "Do you want some cake, eh?"
The silence was eerie, innocence and blood being in the same room...purity and insanity coexisting...
Even though the small, sane part of him was aware that America would never answer, he still cut a neat peice of chocolate cake with the bloodied knife and set it on Alfred's plate. "I didn't mean to forget..." "Well you did. But you're dead now and I'm over it, so enjoy your cake 'hero.'"
"Why didn't you just tell me it bugged you?" He tensed up, stopping midbite. "I had to tell you to acknowledge me?" "Well, I mean..." "Years of living in your shadow...getting my ass whipped because you are a prick... The fuck to I look like to you, a dummy without feelings?! Maybe I should stab your eyes out too, they're doing nothing for you! Your glasses can't even fix how blind you are!" He lodged the knife into the table, fuming. His mind hadn't formulated a response. It was quite a sight to behold, a man yelling at a corpse. Even in the midst of the most fury he'd felt in ages, he couldn't raise his voice to normal shouting level. It was still a little soft.
Feeling himself going into a frenzy, desiring to see bloodshed and knowing it's why Alfred had stopped replying, he grabbed Kuma and cuddled him, the smell of the crimson fluid filling his nostrils. It calmed his lust to kill temporarily. Still, he continued to hold it, almost pelting it across the room when he swore it'd said 'Who?'
"I'm sorry." "You'd better be. But this'll never happen again, eh? My name is burned into your brain now. You'll remember me now. Right?" "Right." "That's all I ever wanted, a little recognition." "Sorry I took so long, man." "It's okay." This was his normal whisper voice, he was calm, he was sure. He looked up at the lifeless form next to him. "I love you, Alfred." He didn't answer, and Canada's vision became blurred.
"But I killed you."
The voice was gone. Suddenly, a pang of sanity had hit him, unbearable guilt overtaking him. His hands had killed, not even shot, the quick way, they had stabbed. His brother was dead. The smell of blood would still be there no matter how much he washed. His bear, whatever the hell he'd named it, was dead. "Come back..."
He just wanted to die. "We'll do things right this time, okay? Just say something, please." Even his imaginary America was dead. He pulled the knife put of the table. "See you soon..."
Two corpses, a desceased pet and three quarters of a birthday cake sat in silence in a room covered with streamers and blood. That was all that remained of the birthday party.
A/N: I don't really know, but I found this buried in my files. I suppose that since they are countries, they'll be back soon, and Canada will be sane again. Though history tends to repeat itself...