I'm alive~

Miss me? I'm glad someone does...I frickin' hate my life sometimes. Depression sucks. I f****** up my entire week on Monday alone. Screw it. Screw everything.

Personal rant over.

Seriously, you guys are just too awesome. Reading your reviews is what cheers me up when I'm like this, and that's when I realized something. I'm good at making others happy. So here you go!

WARNING: This chapter contains suicide (but he'll come back later, don't worry!), language, angst, and lots of blood towards the end.

Also, lots of France angst. I never realized how much I fangirl over France until I wrote this, and now I realize I love him to death. Even if he is gropey and perverted.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing used here. Nothing. Got it. Good.

---

Ivan was startled awake by the sound of Pinkie sobbing and screaming all at once. Any trace of sleepiness was immediately blown out of his mind as he realized just what that meant. If Pinkie Pie so much as frowned, you knew that something bad had happened to her. Hearing her scream and cry was scary.

"Pinkie! What is the matter?" Ivan asked, carefully making his way over to her. He remembered to make a conscious statement asking this question. Normally, he wouldn't have cared. In fact, he would have enjoyed it. But he had to be a good friend now. No more ignoring people he cared about.

However, Ivan was not prepared for Pinkie to suddenly wrap her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder and soaking it with tears. Ivan froze as Pinkie continued to wail into his coat. He was…being hugged? He'd never gotten a hug…from someone who wasn't Ukraine or his queen…it felt…nice? He didn't really know.

"Oh Ivan! It was awful!" Pinkie bawled, her pink body shivering uncontrollably in fear. Ivan knew it wasn't really sadness; being a murderer sort of gave you the ability to sense fear…he awkwardly patted her on the back. If you couldn't already tell, emotions weren't exactly his strong suit.

"What happened?" Ivan asked again, still sort of freaking out inside. Sure, his older sister cried a lot, but she didn't hug him that much, and he'd never seen anyone other than her cry so openly. What was he supposed to do here?! Pinkie sobbed, tightening her grip on him and making it a mite harder to breathe.

"Oh…it was terrible! T-There was this man….an-and he t-tried to kill me…and…and…he killed Rainbow Dash and Applejack…and t-then and then…I-oh Ivan, I…I ate them!" She howled, and Ivan flinched. That didn't even sound pleasant…wait.

"Pinkie, I know you do not want to think about this, but did you say there was a man?" He asked, his eyes widening. Man? That word didn't exist here. Chto za chert?

Pinkie nodded, her face still hidden in his shoulder. She sniffled a bit, then she too realized exactly what she said.

"Ivan…what's a 'man'?" She asked quietly, and he didn't answer her, his mind thinking hard.

"Pinkie, what did he look like?" Ivan asked again. If it was a nightmare and she was seeing actual humans, it was probably someone he knew. Someone he really didn't want to hear about.

"I-I don't want to think about it…" Pinkie whispered, and he sighed.

"I know you do not, but this is important, da?" He said, rubbing her back soothingly. She sniffled once more.

"Um…it was really dark…b-but his eyes…they were pink and blue and swirly all at once…an-and he was wearing…he was wearing a blue bowtie…and he smiled a lot…" Pinkie whispered very quietly, no doubt trying to think about it and yet not to think about it at the same time. Have you ever done this?! Headaches for weeks, bros.

Ivan's brain ground to a grinding, screeching halt. He knew that man. Every country did. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it would make sense he would appear to Pinkie Pie out of all the Elements of Harmony. And Pinkie said that she ate Rainbow Dash. This was very, very bad.

"Pinkie, I realize this is bad for you to think about, but I need to know. Did he give you cupcakes?" Ivan asked, dread filling his heart as Pinkie slowly nodded, still shaking and crying. It felt like an ice cold hand had grabbed his heart and was slowly pulling it down towards his stomach.

Pinkie wiped her eyes, still really curious as to what Ivan was so worried about. She glanced up at him through blurred vision, and before she could even process the look on his face, he grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, swung her onto his back, and thundered out of his bedroom faster than anyone had seen him go. It was all Pinkie could do just to hold on.

---

"Good morning Lovi~" Antonio yawned, waking up and seeing that for once, Lovino was awake and out of bed before Antonio was. This was a very rare occasion, so Antonio was in a good mood within no time, happy that he actually got to see this with his own eyes. Lovino was sitting on the floor, staring out the window forlornly. He must have been crying again, for his eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

Just the thought of Lovino crying made Antonio extremely worried. Lovino only cried if he was really, really upset. This was bad. Lovino had stayed the night in Antonio's room, snuggling close to the stronger earth pony, quietly sobbing and whimpering all night until he finally fell into a fitful, uneasy sleep.

When Antonio greeted him, Lovino mumbled something, turning his gaze away from the window and staring straight at the wall so that Antonio couldn't see the fresh wave of tears coming. Antonio hopped out of bed, stretching and yawning happily.

"What'd you say, Lovi? I couldn't hear you!" Antonio asked, and Lovino growled angrily.

"Don't. Call. Me. That." He snarled, snapping his head around and glaring at the Spaniard, who froze on the spot. "I-I don't want to be Lovi any more…or Lovino…or even Romano…I don't…" Lovino whispered, breaking down into fresh tears and sobs of misery. Absolute misery. It made Antonio's heart ache to hear his little tomate making those cries. He was too young for that. Far too young.

Antonio moved forward, hugging Lovino tightly as Lovino screamed and howled in sorrow. The smile that was normally on Antonio's face was gone, to be replaced with a small, confused frown.

"I don't…Antonio, I don't want to exist anymore…!" Lovino sobbed, and Antonio pulled back, frowning and glaring at Lovino.

"No, Romano. You are not going to die, you got that?! I won't let you!" Antonio shouted, but Lovino just sniffed and gave him a watery smile.

"Too late…" He whispered, and Antonio's eyes widened as he finally took in Lovino's full appearance. He'd been so focused on Lovino's desolate, lost eyes that he hadn't noticed the giant ice pick sticking out of Lovino's chest. A barbaric mafia trick…

"Lovi!" Antonio screamed, watching as Lovino peacefully turned to dust in his arms. Tears fell down from both pony's eyes, but Antonio's were of terror and anger, not of sadness like Lovino's. Eventually, all that remained of Lovino was a small, white red and green glowing ball of light that hovered in Antonio's hooves. The whole process couldn't have taken more than two minutes.

"LOVINO!" Antonio howled, sobbing and crying in horror. His little brother. His favorite little brother was gone. He'd been reduced to his simplest form. He couldn't hear Antonio now. He couldn't see him, or feel him, or even know he was there. Lovino was gone. Southern Italy remained. On that day, Lovino Vargas ceased to exist. He was dead. Gone.

He'd never see another sunset. He wouldn't be able to eat a tomato ever again. Not unless he chose to come back. That was very unlikely, at least not for another hundred years, just to rub it in. Why didn't Antonio see just how upset Lovino was? He could've stopped him. He could've saved him! But he didn't. He couldn't now. It was too late.

And that hurt Antonio more than anything he'd ever felt before.

---

This just seemed like a morning of hurt. Fluttershy's screams and cries of fear jolted Mathieu out of his sleep, and that brought a whole new world of hurt for him. Alfred's volcano didn't just affect Alfred. As soon as he awoke, his entire body was racked with a vicious cough, filling the air in front of him with fine white ash. This only made Fluttershy panic even more in concern for him, so his morning consisted of calming her down and insisting that he was fine when he clearly wasn't. Even Mexico looked a bit pale and was coughing every now and then from the ashflow.

Francis was holding on tightly to Rarity, eyes wide and confused. They were still in Francis' lavishly large bed, hugging each other underneath the silk blankets. Francis was absolutely stunned for more than one reason; one, Rarity was so openly suffering. Two…this was the first time in over a century that he woke up next to a girl without making love to her the night before. The only other time this happened was with…no. He wasn't going to bring her up now.

Applejack trotted through the halls, head held low and her hat pulled over her eyes, glancing around fearfully in terror for fear of Germany. Understandably, her nightmare would make her scared of anyone wearing a Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross. Patrick, Ireland, walked next to her, he too lost in thought and glancing about warily. Though she didn't know him very well at all, Applejack was glad for Patrick's company.

Later in the morning, when everypony had straggled into the kitchen and successfully ate, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna both arrived with Princess Cadence, cheering Twilight up immensely. Alistair gathered up the World 8, save for Alfred, and brought them to the main conference room, where all of the mane six and the princesses would have any and all questions answered.

They all had some trouble dragging Rainbow Dash away from America's bedside, but she came after a bit of persuading. She was now sitting to the right of Applejack, her arms crossed and brow furrowed as she stared in the general direction of the infirmary, wishing that she had x-ray vision.

"Alright, now we can get started." Arthur said in relief, doing another headcount and seeing that everyone was accounted for. Except Alfred, of course. Alistair cleared his throat importantly and stood up, placing his hooves on the table.

"Right. This is solely an informational meeting, so the rather attractive princesses get to ask questions about us and the situation we currently find ourselves in. And to the best of our ability, we will answer the ladies. Got it?" He announced, raising an eyebrow at the audience. At his words, all three princesses had shocked yet pleased looks on their faces. Cadence decided that there would be another time to tell him that she was married. Being the head princess, Celestia asked her question first as Alistair sat back down.

"My first question should be an obvious one. What exactly are your 2p selves? And how much of a threat are they to Equestria?" Celestia asked, her voice echoing for a moment in the large room. Arthur sighed and stood up, figuring he was the one most qualified to answer, seeing how his 2p self caused more trouble than the rest of them combined.

"Our 2p selves are a result of too much trauma or shock. Every nation has a 2p, since they are the countries themselves, only much darker. They are equal to us in power, and you saw that night in the statue garden exactly how powerful we are, and that wasn't even at full strength. I guess you could call them the end result of a serious split-personality disorder." He explained, trying to figure out how to word this without making the princesses even more confused.

"All the 2p selves were created the day we were. They've always been around, and there's no stopping them for good. Except for one case; 2p France." He continued, and all eyes in the room turned to France, who surprisingly, glared back at them angrily. Arthur looked a bit sheepish as he explained this part.

"Francis, for sure, had his dark side, but he never had a fully-fledged 2p self until a certain day. May 30, 1431." Arthur said, his eyes becoming downcast and somber. Francis abruptly stood and pushed his chair away from the table, a very uncharacteristic scowl on his face. Rarity looked up at him with wide, somewhat frightened eyes. Before another word could be said, Francis turned and walked stiffly over to the window, sitting down before it and staring pointedly outside, ignoring everypony else.

"What happened?" Rarity asked worriedly yet quietly, staring at her love longingly. Arthur sighed, lowering his voice as well.

"That was the day he lost Joan of Arc." He explained, a spike of pain flashing through is eyes before disappearing just as quickly. "She was the only woman Francis ever really loved. Even I've never seen a love like that. They had been made for each other, no one else. You could see it in their eyes when she was alive; he would rather suffer in Hell with her than be in Heaven by himself."

"Wow…" Twilight breathed, her eyes swirling in wonder as she imagined a love like that. Cadence nodded knowingly, a faint smile on her face. She knew the feeling well. Rarity turned to Arthur, her eyes becoming sadder and sadder by the moment.

"What happened to her?" She asked, and Arthur sighed. Before he could say one word, Francis suddenly snarled, whipping back around and glaring dangerously at Arthur, his eyes shining unearthly blue. All the mane six scooted back from him in fright, but Arthur stood his ground despite the murderous aura radiating off of Francis.

"Him. He happened to her." Francis growled, advancing slowly like a predator upon his prey. "He burned her alive at the stake, laughing at her pain and misery, smiling as she was devoured by the flames. Then he scattered her ashes into the river, not even leaving me with a body to mourn. You seem to have a knack for viciously slaughtering innocent women, don't you Arthur?"

All the mane six gasped in horror, turning their gaze back to Arthur in shock. Even the princesses were looking at him with surprise and revulsion. Arthur, however, stayed calm, even though his eyes were burning with quiet rage.

"You are no better than I am, Francis. If I recall, you've murdered my queen several times." Arthur shot back, and Francis smirked.

"So I guess we're even then?" He growled. "No! Losing a mother is not the same as losing part of your soul." He snarled, and Alistair stood up, slamming his hooves on the table to get their attention, glaring at both of them.

"We are not here to discuss problems long past. You two can have a go at each other all you want later, but now we need to move on." He growled. Every normal pony in the room's eyes were flicking back and forth between Francis and Arthur like they were watching a tennis match. After a very tense and drawn out moment, Francis sat down next to Rarity, wrapping an arm around her and holding her close, sighing and burying his face in her mane.

Alistair smiled, seeing that Arthur too had calmed down enough to continue. With Princess Celestia's question answered, he nodded to Luna to begin.

"Alright. I have more than one question, so to begin, would you say that your 2p selves are similar to Nightmare Moon and I?" She asked, and nobody had to ask for elaboration. They'd all heard the tale on Nightmare Night from Luna, Twilight, and Zecora each. Arthur nodded, happy that she'd found something relatable for the explanation. "Also, I would like to discuss the matter of Ivan's crown."

All head's swiveled towards Ivan, who blinked in confusion. His eyes widened as he realized what they meant, and he placed it on the table for everyone to see. He'd remembered to grab it before the meeting, since he was curious about it too.

"Last night, I was able to do some research in the oldest archives of our library in Canterlot. As we know, there are six Elements of Harmony. Loyalty," Rainbow Dash waved lazily. "Honesty," Applejack tipped her hat to everypony. "Kindness…" Fluttershy hid behind her mane, blushing slightly. "Laughter," Pinkie did a quick song and dance to match, waving and smiling energetically at everypony. "Generosity…" Rarity flipped her mane, and Francis kissed her cheek. "And Magic." Twilight bowed.

"However, I found something…odd. A long forgotten scroll, so old it even slipped Celestia's memory. It said that there was a seventh Element." Everypony gasped/raised an eyebrow. Ivan, however, frowned.

"How am I Element of Harmony? I am not…nice person…" He said slowly, absolutely befuddled*.

"That's what is wrong, Ivan." Luna said, and he internally breathed a sigh of relief. He really didn't think his mind could handle being an Element of Harmony. Luna's gaze slid from him down to his crown, staring at it intensely. "This is not the seventh Element of Harmony. That honor, I believe…" Her gaze then turned to a certain Pegasus stallion. "…goes to Mathieu."

Reactions were varied. Everything from 'WHAT?!' to 'Well, then' was said, and poor little Mathieu squeaked at the sudden amount of noise, wishing that he was invisible once more. Alistair and Celestia both held up a hoof for silence, making all the commotion to quiet into confused mutters.

"Mathieu, I believe, is the lost Element. The Element of Humility." Luna said, and everypony shut up as they processed that statement.

"That…makes sense, I guess. But why does Ivan have the crown if Mathieu is the Element, aru?" Yao asked, still staring at Mathieu. Luna gave a small smile, ready to drop a bomb here.

"Well, that's because I found another scroll. One so old, it was written in Draconequian. Discord's specific handwriting, to be exact. This means that it was written in the time that Discord ruled Equestria in a state of eternal chaos, many thousands of years ago. It showed me something strange; the Elements of Being. In that scroll was a sketch of Ivan's crown." Luna finished, gesturing with a hoof at it. Alistair raised his hoof like he was in school.

"I'm gonna guess that like the Elements of Harmony keep harmony, the Elements of Being are what make a pony a pony?" He asked, and Luna nodded. "Alright, so which one is Ivan?" Luna used her magic to levitate Ivan's crown, holding it up so that it was visible from anywhere in the room.

"This is the Element of Hope."

….

….

"Okay, that makes a lot more sense than it should." Arthur muttered, rubbing his temples with his hooves. This was a lot of new information to take in all at once. Mathieu looked like he was on the verge of passing out again, and Fluttershy was sitting closer to him than normal, so that their shoulders were touching. Alistair sighed, turning to Princess Cadence.

"Alright. Do you have any questions for us, miss?" He asked, and she nodded.

"You already answered most of them for me, but I still have one. Are there any countries left in your world? Or did all of you come here?" She asked curiously, and Arthur smirked.

"You have no idea. South America in its entirety is still there, along with pretty much all of Africa and Asia. It's just the farthest east Asian countries here, plus Russia." He said, and Ivan shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "Most of Europe is here too, except for a few countries near Turkey and Greece, like Dmitri's little sisters, Moldova and Macedonia." He added, rethinking his statement. "Also, for some weird reason, Portugal is still there."

Alistair snorted, standing up from the table.

"That should be all. I'm going to go spar, anyone wanna come with me?" He yawned, stretching his wings. Twilight raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"Spar?" She asked, unfamiliar with the word. Cadence took the honor of explaining, since her husband was captain of the guard, after all.

"It means practice fighting, Twilight; just in case they're attacked by Xear again." She laughed as Twilight blinked.

Together, everypony got up and exited the main meeting room, letting the doors fall shut behind them with a bang that echoed eerily throughout the now empty room. Or, not as empty as they'd hoped.

A specific pink unicorn grinned from his place under the table, adjusting his light blue bowtie with a flourish.

---

So….thirsty…

Thirsty…

Throat feels like it's on fire…

Thirsty…

Help me…

It hurts…it hurts so much…

Anything…anything to quench the thirst…

Anything…

Please…help….I'm so thirsty…

Anything…

---

Nopony was around to notice, but a certain country groaned, shakily propping himself up on his elbows. He blinked rapidly, desperately trying to get his vision into focus. Everything he saw was blurred, fuzzy around the edges, and he frowned. Were his glasses on?

He waved a hoof in front of his face, at least making sure that he could track things with his eyes. He frowned again, waving his hoof once more. He stopped. He stared. He stared some more.

"Holy Rushmore…" He breathed, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. He stared down at his hoof, wishing that it was still a hoof. But it wasn't. It was a hand.

A human hand.

Alfred flexed all five fingers, still staring and not daring to breathe or blink, in case this was just a trick his mind was playing on him. He shakily raised his other hand, inhaling sharply as he saw that it was the same. A regular old human hand. He slapped his hands onto his face, feeling around numbly, checking his head as well. His nose was normal sized. His teeth and mouth were human too. Ears, hair, and eyes were all completely normal.

His hands travelled down his neck, brushing over everything and relishing in the feel of his own human skin. He suddenly grinned, reaching a hand underneath the thin white sheet that was covering his body. He nearly jumped for joy. Florida was okay too!

Alfred grinned, so damn happy that he was back to normal. Then he frowned again, realizing that he wouldn't be able to fly anymore if he wasn't a Pegasus. Maybe he could get Alistair or Arthur to use their magic and give him wings, though! His grin returned and he moved to get out of the bed he was in –which was completely unfamiliar, though he didn't notice.

However, as soon as he moved, his entire body flared with intense, searing hot pain. He gasped and clamped his hand over his mouth, muffling his scream into pitiful groans. Alfred clenched his eyes shut, trying to force his way through it. Yesterday –was it yesterday? It seemed like it had been days- the pain had been much worse.

The pain.

Alfred froze, ignoring the giant fire inside his chest. He mentally ran another check on himself, this time looking for something inside rather than any pain. After a few moments, he growled and slammed his fists into his thighs, feeling tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

He choked out a sob, once again ignoring the sudden flare of pain. Wyoming was dead. So were Nebraska, Kansas, and Colorado. Dead. Gone. There was a terrible, empty spot in his heart and in his soul. A spot they should have been in. All the rest of his Midwest and West coast states were sick. Terribly sick. But he refused to believe that they were dying too. He would not allow any more deaths.

The worst part was that all of the other forty six states were screaming at him. Crying for him. Hating him. Because he wasn't there for them. He couldn't save anyone. If he was home, he might have been able to do something. But he couldn't now. And his own children hated him, with all their hearts for it.

Where the hell were you?!

How could you leave us alone like this?!
I hate you!

Dad, are you mad at us…?

…Why?

We ain't never done anythin' ta you!

IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!

Alfred sobbed again, clamping his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out the blitzkrieg of voices screaming inside his head. But there was no way to block out a sound from your heart. He put his head between his knees, trying his best not to break down completely. He had to find a way to make this right with them. It wasn't his fault at all.

"No…y-you don't understand…! I never did anything! O-Of course I care about you! Okay, I wasn't there. I could've helped. I could've been there for you. But none of this was my fault. It…It was Discord. He's messing with…with mom! No, not Aiyana. Our other mom. New York, please listen, I never wanted this…h-hey! Stop fighting! Ow! Dammit, that hurts!" He shouted, snapping his eyes open and glaring at his chest.

"Listen to me, all of you. Shut up. Just shut up, okay?" He whispered, clenching his fists even tighter, so that his nails dug little crimson crescent marks into his skin. "None of us wanted them dead. But none of us could have stopped it. Not even me. Not even frickin' ALISTAIR could do anything about it. You think I don't care about them? Then why are we all in so much pain?!"

"…Just as you affect me, I affect you. My pain is yours, and yours is mine. That damn explosion hurt me, hurting all of you too. All of you, not just…Wyoming, Colorado, Kansas, and Nebraska. We're all in the same damn situation. So…just stop. Please…" He whispered, his tears finally starting to fall. "We're going to bury them with dignity. We're going to respect them, and honor their last wishes. Not fight over whose fault it was, because if it's mine, it's yours too."

"So…So please, n-no more fighting…I-I can't take any more violence…if we don't fight together, all of us will die. Please…j-just…just be quiet." He cried, still looking at his hands. For once, and Alfred counted and blessed every star on his flag for this, everyone shut up. Even Jersey and York did. Maybe they could see just how much they'd hurt him. Or maybe they realized what he'd said was true. And maybe they were all just being sensitive and actually decided to leave him alone. Whichever way, Alfred was grateful. He just wanted to go and build a respectable grave for his…f-for his dead children.

And maybe, in a few decades or maybe even a century, Wyoming, Colorado, Kansas, and Nebraska could be rebuilt. There'd be new personifications. New life. But the children he knew were dead. Not coming back.

He shuddered in a breath, wiping away his tears shakily with his now human hand. He could deal with the rest of his kids later, but now it was time to respect the dead. He had to get outside. He needed to find a shovel, and get outside.

He swung his legs off the bed once more, standing up as best he could. He growled sharply and pressed his hand against his chest, once again slamming his fist into something, this time being the bedside cabinet. This pain was nothing! He could handle something as trivial as an aftershock. It would just be pointless and stupid to complain about this.

He began to slowly walk towards the door, blatantly oblivious to the fact that he was still naked. Meanwhile, his mind was whirling with questions. Was he the only one back to normal? Where the hell was everyone? What was this place? And more importantly, which way is out?

He was going to shout these frustrations to the ceiling, like he always did, but a sudden loud squeak made him stop and glance around in curiosity. That sounded vaguely familiar….but who…?

His eyes suddenly locked on to a very small, dark red earth pony with a curly caramel brown mane and tail. It was hard to tell, but it almost seemed to be blushing horribly, and it was covering its eyes with its hooves.

"Hey, who are you?" Alfred asked, racking his brain to try and remember this pony's name. He knew he'd seen him yesterday, but he couldn't remember his name!

"M-Mister America…y-you're naked!" The little pony yelped, and Alfred glanced down at Florida, before returning his gaze to the little pony.

"So are you, dude. Now, who are you again?"

"I-I'm Raivis, sir! L-Latvia, to be exact…" Raivis mumbled, still not looking at Alfred. Alfred grinned suddenly and smacked his forehead in realization, earning an angry shout from New York which was ignored.

"Right, Latvia! Where's everypony else?" He asked, and Latvia squeaked again.

"T-They're down in the sparring hall…"

"Right! Thanks dude!" Alfred chirped, giving Latvia a thumbs up before trying to push past him and out the door. However, he must have been much weaker than he initially thought, because he stumbled and couldn't get past Latvia, who was less than a third his size.

"I-I'm sorry, sir! I-I can't let you go! Y-You're not healthy yet!" Latvia stammered, trying to hold up Alfred while not touching…anything. He wasn't doing that. No way. Alfred opened his mouth to protest, but a little chuckle startled them both.

Both of them looked up to see Romania standing there, leaning against the doorway and twirling his little hat in his hands.

And just like Alfred, Dmitri was human too. Thankfully he'd managed to find or create a pair of brown drawstring pants. Alfred grinned, happy to see his friend after all that pain.

"Dmitri! Whasup?!" He shouted, his signature doofy grin on his face. Latvia, however, yelped and cowered back, quickly backing away. His fear seemed to make Dmitri grin maliciously. Couldn't Alfred see? See the way Dmitri's eyes glinted and glowed evilly? Latvia wasn't really good at reading emotion, but he could still recognize the look in Dmitri's eyes.

Hunger.

Dmitri chuckled again at Alfred's question, turning his gaze to the ceiling.

"What's up…?" He repeated softly, still twirling his hat thoughtfully. If only Alfred and Raivis could see the raging storm inside Dmitri right now…Alfred was about to move forward, to give Dmitri a hug. He still had his smile on his face, not even noticing Dmitri's eyes, which were glowing vicious, demonic red. Suddenly though, Alfred tripped and cut his hand on one of the sharp edges of the bedside cabinets.

"Shit!" Alfred hissed, staring at the little cut on his hand. It couldn't have been more than an inch across, and only a hair's width thick. A catscratch, almost.

Alfred, still inspecting his cut, didn't notice Dmitri gasp and shudder. He didn't see Dmitri begin to stalk towards him, his feet not making a sound. He didn't see Dmitri's fangs grow. And he didn't see Dmitri lick his lips hungrily. Alfred saw nothing, too focused on his bleeding hand. But Latvia saw everything.

"America!" Latvia shouted, just as Dmitri began to pounce.

Alfred looked up just in time to see Latvia headbutt Dmitri out of the way, Dmitri's fingers only centimeters from Alfred's skin. Latvia's headbutt was so powerful, it sent Dmitri flying into the wall with a huge crash, making a large crater and destroying one of the infirmary beds. Latvia stood in front of Alfred, panting and glaring.

"…Dude?" Alfred asked after a moment, and Latvia flinched, like he expected to be punished for hurting Alfred's friend. He slowly turned back to Alfred, his ears, tail, and head low in submission.

"Yessir?" He asked quietly, trembling because he expected to be hit. He actually saw Alfred raise a hand before he closed his eyes and braced himself.

Instead, he felt Alfred's warm, human hand ruffle his mane. He looked up in surprise, seeing a large smile on Alfred's face. "Mister America?"

"You got your Cutie Mark, little dude. Good job." Alfred said simply, and Latvia's eyes widened. He turned his head back to see Alfred was right. His Cutie Mark was a shining sword, pointing down. He smiled, his heart swelling as he looked at it. He was always told he was brave, but he'd never believed it. But he was! He'd just stood up to Dmitri, and he helped save Alfred!

"You son of a bitch…" They heard a snarl, and before they could blink, Dmitri had Latvia pinned against the wall, holding him up by his throat. Latvia struggled and gasped for air, choking in Dmitri's grip.

"Dmitri! You…hell, let him go!" Alfred shouted, running forward and tugging on Dmitri, but not even Alfred, with all his strength, could move Dmitri. "What the hell?! Dmitri, stop!" He yelled, but then he froze in horror. He watched as Dmitri's fangs grew and grew, pushing past his bottom lip and past his chin even, making him look like a sabertooth tiger. Dmitri's eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth.

"Dmitri, STOP!" Alfred roared, hitting Dmitri straight in the head with all his might. But he wasn't fast enough. Nowhere near fast enough. He punched thin air, his shot overshooting and making him fall to the floor.

Latvia screamed as Dmitri sunk his fangs into his neck, deeper and deeper, ripping open veins and actually scraping against bone. Blood began to flow, and Dmitri downed it like it was water from the Fountain of Youth, not even pausing for breath as he swallowed it in mouthfuls.

Right before he passed out from shock, Latvia saw a single tear fall from Dmitri's eye. And behind the hunger in his scarlet eyes, was pain. Deep, horrible pain and sadness.

"I'm sorry, Latvia…I'm so sorry…" Dmitri whispered, his voice muffled by the blood in his mouth and Latvia's shoulder.

Alfred shot straight to his feet, not even noticing the pain in his chest over his own anger. His eyes even seemed to be burning intensely, glaring powerfully at Dmitri, who hadn't even moved.

"Dmitri. Let. Him. Go." Alfred growled, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Dmitri's middle, yanking him off of Latvia with a huge burst of strength. Dmitri actually shut his mouth in surprise and didn't even struggle as he was removed from his meal. In fact, he grinned. He'd be getting a much better quality meal soon.

"What the hell, Dmitri? What the actual hell?" Alfred shouted, setting Dmitri down so that Alfred was between him and Latvia, who slumped to the floor, still unconscious. Dmitri groaned, deciding he may as well have fun with this.

"I-It's amazing, Al…you don't understand! It's just….so delicious, and I'm…so thirsty…It hurts, Alfred!" He cried, his fingers scrabbling at his throat. "I'm so damn thirsty! I-It's liquid euphoria! I've never experienced something that wonderful…everything I've ever loved, rolled into red silk….and all I have to do…is take it." He muttered, staring at Latvia and watching the blood flow out of his neck. "H-How am I supposed to resist?!" He whispered, looking up at Alfred.

Then he grinned insanely, tipping his head to the side and wiping away the trails of Latvia's blood that were running down his chin and fangs. He brushed them away with his hands, then licked the blood off his fingers thoughtfully, staring up curiously at the still glaring and murderous Alfred.

"Ah well. I wonder what freedom tastes like."

And with that, too fast for human eyes, Dmitri was behind Alfred, chomping down right onto Alfred's windpipe. Alfred screamed in pain and anger, reaching backwards and yanking at Dmitri's hair in an attempt to get him off. When that didn't work, Alfred arched his spine, twisting around violently, trying to shake him off.

"Dmitri! Get off me!" Alfred roared, jamming his elbow back into Dmitri's ribs with a blow that could shatter bones. But Dmitri didn't seem to be hurt at all by it.

Suddenly, reality and exactly WHAT he was doing slammed back into Dmitri full force, and he gasped in horror and tore away from Alfred, covering his mouth in shame. Alfred gasped for air, willing his regenerative powers as a country to heal his neck. He stared and stared at Dmitri as his windpipe returned to normal, his skin stitching itself back together with a mind of its own.

"A-Alfred…?" Dmitri whispered, staring at America with wide, disbelieving eyes. Alfred wanted to strangle the Romanian for what just happened, but the look in Dmitri's eyes made him stop. Dmitri was terrified. Absolutely frightened out of his wits. He was so damn scared, Alfred actually took pity on him.

"Come on, Dmitri. You need help. Let's go find Arthur, he'll know what to do." Alfred said quietly, holding out his hand for Dmitri to take. Dmitri stared at it, his eyes becoming increasingly wide as he processed everything he'd just done.

"I-I…I just…I just drank blood…! Y-Your blood…a-and Raivis'…." He whispered, and he suddenly twitched. "A-Alfred, I couldn't….I couldn't control myself…" He sobbed, wrapping his arms around himself. Alfred felt his heart hurting at he looked at his friend. He stepped closer, trying to bring the Romanian into a hug once more.

"Hey, it's okay…we need to find Arthur, and then we can-"

"Don't touch me!" Dmitri screamed, cutting Alfred off. He turned on his heel and ran over into the furthest and darkest corner of the infirmary, curling into a ball with his head between his knees and his arms over his head. He started to shake.

Dmitri could feel the urge rising once more. The urge to drink. His throat seared with heat, the flames getting more intense with every heartbeat. He could smell it. He could smell the blood. It was so close…! Dmitri clenched his eyes shut, biting down hard on his own arm. It wasn't enough. His own blood was nowhere near enough to quench his thirst.

Alfred stared, then took a confident step forward. Dmitri wasn't as strong as Alfred or Russia, and Alfred was confident he could take Dmitri down if he needed to. His heart twisted painfully when he saw Dmitri's tears fall to the ground, soon joined by blood from Dmitri's wrist. His supervolcano seemed like nothing compared to what Dmitri must be suffering through right now.

"Dmitri, come on. We need to get Arthur." He said loudly, making sure that Dmitri could hear him. Dmitri shuddered violently, shaking his head weakly.

"N-No…you don't understand…I want it….I need it…" Dmitri pleaded. "Alfred, if you bring someone here…I-I don't think I could control myself….I-I'm a beast….just leave me alone…!" He cried pitifully, and then he sobbed as his nose picked up the smell of Alfred's still-bleeding cut from earlier. He smelled delicious. He tasted fantastic. Latvia was the same.

Dmitri moaned and buried his nose into his arm, hoping that the smell of his own blood would be enough to stop the burning urge to kill. Nowhere near enough. He suddenly screamed in agony, slamming his head into the floor. His throat. It hurt. It hurt so damn bad!

The worst part was that he knew what he had to do in order to make the pain stop. He knew what could make it go away. But it meant becoming a monster. It meant hurting his friends, innocent people who would only want to help. He couldn't do it. He just had to struggle through it. Alfred surely had it worse than him; he was just being stupid!

Yesterday, when he'd cantered off into the woods, it was because his throat had been burning. He'd been looking for a stream or something to drink. He could've magicked himself some water, but his gut told him not to. Instead, he'd found a rabbit. He found a rabbit, and killed it. Sucked it dry.

At the time, it seemed like the most obvious thing to do. It seemed so natural. Like he was made to do it. But once the rabbit was beyond dead, once his throat had cooled, reality sunk in. He'd just murdered an innocent animal.

He wanted to believe it was just a moment of weakness, that it would never happen again. Hell, he'd even walked right back to the castle and pretended that nothing had happened! But it did. And now it happened again. To his friends. Right.

His friends were just rabbits, that's all. He needed to trick himself into this. They were just rabbits. Mere animals that can easily be replaced. The pain wasn't his throat, or his insatiable lust. It was himself, holding himself back just because he was morally above this. Screw it. He wasn't going to hurt anymore just because he was nice. If this was what being nice got him, then screw Alfred and the rest of them. He would gladly become a monster if it meant getting just one more drop of blood. He could smell it. He could see it.

He wanted it. He needed it.

And he would do whatever it takes to obtain it.

The ends justify the means.

Dmitri licked his lips and grinned as his last shred of sanity flew straight out the window.

---

Done! Not ten seconds before curfew! Wish me luck guys!

Review please, and as always...

Hasta la pasta~!