His hands sprung forward, and he shut the door behind him, hoping his super strength wouldn't snap the only defense he had into two. He knew the she wouldn't hurt him.....at least he thought.

Alfred bended his knees, and placed his hands on them, leaning down, and panting for breath. What was up with this chick today? Why was she tormenting him? It was so....out of character.

America shook his head, and straightened himself out again. She wouldn't find him here. She was most likely still busy with Russia out in the courtyard. He just hoped that she hadn't noticed that he had fled from the scene.

But he couldn't blame himself. It may have been the smartest move in the moment, but now thinking about it......

She would most likely find him, and with the determination that she showed when she demanded Arthur to apologize, he figured she probably wouldn't give up.

But then again....

Maybe it was all an act. Maybe she was doing this to make Russia jealous. Maybe she had finally lost her marbles, and thought America was somehow Ivan.

Maybe he was on one of those hidden camera shows right now, the ones that would hide secret cameras around the perimeter, and prank the living crap out of random people without them even knowing. Yeah, maybe that was it.

Because Belarus would never do something like this. She would never stand up for him, she would never touch him, she would never try to flirt with him, she would never ask him to marry her.

He glanced at himself in the mirror, and saw a steady line of red on his neck. He slowly reached up to lightly tap it with his index finger. As soon as his gloved hand touched the skin, he immediately pulled back, cringing in pain, only for a second.

"That could have gone much deeper," Alfred whispered to himself, feeling his chest tighten in fear. He lifted his finger up to his face, as his eyes tried to make out what was upon the black fabric.

Crap. He should have grabbed Texas. Without them, everything was a blurry mess. Now it would make it easier for Belarus to attack him.

He sighed in an irritated tone, and tugged the glove from his hand, tossing it onto the counter of the white marble basin.

He placed both hands on the edge of the basin, and gripped the cold marble.

"Okay...okay Alfie...get ahold of yourself," he whispered. America was embarrassed to admit this....but he was scared. Right now, he didn't care if he screamed this announcement through a megaphone for all the nations to hear and laugh at him. He just wanted this whole thing to end. He just wanted things to go back to normal. He wanted Belarus to just go torment her brother.

Wait.....

No he didn't. Belarus was hurting herself over that commie bastard. He didn't want her to keep dragging on that mess.

What?! Why should he care? His head was spinning at a thousand miles, and Alfred leaned forward. She had just attacked Arthur this morning over him. She was out of her mind!

Suddenly, he heard the doorknob behind him begin to vigorously jiggle. His heart leaped into his throat, and he jerked his head to the side, to see the silver sphere spasmodically rotate clockwise then counterclockwise. America sucked in a quick breath, but immediately choked. He threw a fist at his chest, coughing and hacking desperately. Something heavy collided with the door, because the wood slightly splintered, and began to creak. He scrambled back, and planted his back against the wall. Maybe it was just another fellow nation trying to get in....

But why would they try to break down the door!? Most of them had common courtesy!

He was officially done for. There was nowhere else to hide in here. It was simply a single bathroom with a toilet and sink. He was cornered like prey. Another bang made the door splinter once again. What sounded like nails against chalkboard, began to claw at the wood.

Sweet Lady Liberty!

How desperate was this chick?! Alfred slowly slid down against the wall and sat down.

"Open the door!" He heard the harsh and familiar voice of the girl -who stood on the other side of the door- shout like a complete maniac. He rested his head against the wall, and nibbled on his lip. "It's ok, it's ok, it's ok," Alfred hissed to himself. The door continued to bang, and eventually, began to crack.

America folded his legs onto his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. "Amieryka, I know you're in there!" Natalya sang.

Before America could respond, a blade shot through the wood of the door, sending splinters flying across the tiny room. The wooden splinters sprinkled atop Alfred's messy blonde locks, and onto his face. His fists tightened, and he couldn't help but screech. He watched in horror as the blade wiggled around, and managed to break off a chunk of the door. The blade retracted through the hole, and a hand reached in, groping about. Alfred jolted up onto his feet. The hand groped upward, and found its destination. The hand locked on the silver knob, and turned the lock, unlocking the door with a click.

The hand slipped back through the hole, and was replaced by a horrific sight. Her violet eyes glanced through the hole, locked on Alfred. Belarus softly giggled, and her gaze upon him ceased, as the door slowly and eerily swung open. She stood at the doorframe, crouched on all fours, her head tilted to the side, and wild locks of platinum hair sticking to her sweaty face.

She sprung to her feet, and leapt into the room, making the poor American nation slip backwards and fall to the floor. His head hit the hard tiled floor with a clunk, and the world around him began to spin. A figure entered his sight of vision, and crouched down beside him. The only thing he could clearly see that wasn't spinning, was her seemingly glowing grin.

She lowered her hand down, coming in contact with his cheek.

"You are so adorable at times sweet Alfred." She giggled, lowering herself onto his body. Her smaller form settled onto his larger one. He was officially trapped.

She quickly slid the blade- a chunk of wood still stuck to its edge- to his neck, and gripped his tie with her other hand.

"Why did you run from me?" She asked, tugging at his tie, so their foreheads could come into contact.

Alfred nervously swallowed. Every response that was going to come out of his mouth for now on would determine life or death. At least he thought..... He had to play his cards carefully.

"W-what do you want from me?" Alfred whispered, trying to arch away from her.

This only caused further amusement for the Belarusian country.

"You should know this," She cooed, letting a finger stroke across his skin. "We were meant to be."

The confusion inside Alfred's brain only increased. "M-meant to be?" He choked, finally giving up, and letting the force of her hand on his tie pull him back into contact with her forehead.

"You care about me, da?" She asked.

"Y-yeah," Alfred began. "I care that you-". "You care about my safety Alfred," Natalya grinned. "And it was proven when you protected me from getting hurt by brother."

Wait....this was what this was all about?! Alfred bit his lip. He probably should have guessed that a while back. But he didn't do it because he was madly in love with her or something. Sure, that was probably how she saw it, but that wasn't the case. He did it because he didn't want her to get hurt. Ever since the disband of the Soviet Union, he kinda saw her as a little sister. And seeing her being abused by Ivan just because she wanted his love....was kinda cruel.

"I-I think you have the wrong idea," Alfred squeaked. She let his tie slip through her grip, and his head hit the floor once again. "I know what I saw," Natalya stated angrily.

"And no matter what you say, you will become mine, da? I love you more than anything in this world Alfred, and no matter what you say or do, my heart shall not deny this feeling."

She then proceeded to pin his arms to the ground, and dig her knees into his legs.

Suddenly, she tilted her head, and her smile disappeared. She reached down and placed two fingers on his jaw, and carefully pushed his head to the side. There, on his jaw, was an ugly and budding purple bruise.

"My poor Alfred," She cooed. "Does it hurt?". She gently pressed her two fingers against the purple skin, causing Alfred to cringe in pain. She noticed his distressed expression, and immediately removed her fingers from his jaw. "I am sorry. Allow me to express my apologies," She simply said. Natalya slowly leaned down and softly planted her lips on the bruised skin, just for a second. She lifted her head back up, and gazed upon Alfred's expression. His cheeks were flushed and red.

Belarus slowly reached down, and gently grabbed his cowlick between her two fingers. "How adorable this looks on you, Amieryka." She simpered, twirling it, and observing its golden color. "I would...very much like to have it for myself."

America's eyes widened, as she brought her blade up by the cowlick.

"N-no!" He screeched, jolting his head to the side, the cowlick slipping from her grip. He had enough of this nonsense. It was creeping the living hell out of him.

He swiveled his body to the left, causing Belarus to lose balance, and topple off of him. Before Alfred could gain control of what was going on, his head came in contact against the edge of the sink. America crumpled to the ground, and curled into a ball. At this point, he could hardly think. Natalya quickly grabbed hold of his arm, and tugged him forward. But he wouldn't go down without a fight.

He was America, for crying out loud! He was the hero! And was he seriously going to let a small frail girl push him around, when he had super strength?! Not in a thousand years!

He quickly pulled his arm back, causing Belarus to be tugged along. Unfortunately, she ended up toppling over him. For the third time, his head came in contact with the floor, his vision dancing in a display of flashing colors. He was starting to feel a bump develop on the back of his head. America groaned and let his head rest to the side. The Belarusian that had collapsed across him, seemed to suddenly lay limp upon him. His senses screamed at him to immediately throw her off of him, no matter how much strength he used. But his muscles only froze, as if his limbs were rusted. There, in her violet eyes, he saw something he never would have thought would be possible. Tears. There was no sign of sob's erupting from her mouth, but silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Her hair strung across her pale face, and slightly tickled his nose.

America only stared at the girl, confusion the only thing that he could possibly comprehend. Why was she crying? Just a moment ago, she was on all fours, nothing but a crazed expression upon her features. She was so determined to hold him down. But why would she suddenly give up, leaving herself vulnerable? Natalya would always remain a mystery to America.

But something inside him.....slightly wanted to solve the mystery deep within her core.

"Natalya?" Alfred asked, bravely and slowly sitting up. Her fingers were gripped tightly to the tan cloth of his suit. She then proceeded to bury her face into his chest, and grip to him even harder.

"Are you....afraid of me?" Natalya breathed, suddenly loosening her grip.

His mind finally stopped racing, and the dull and thudding pain in his head ceased for a moment. Wasn't she trying to make him afraid? Wasn't she trying to intimidate him? Wasn't that was she doing? That was what he thought at least......

"W-what?" America stuttered, eyeing the quivering girl carefully. What was she playing at? She slowly lifted her head from his chest, and stared up at him.

But he didn't see the insanity lurking in her eyes. He saw something much more deeper. Sorrow.

He was not mistaken. It was indeed, sorrow. But why?

"Do you...fear me?" She whispered, continuing to grip to his shirt, and burying her face into his suit again. Of course he was scared! She had tried to cut him with her knife, destroyed the bathroom door-which everyone would be sure to notice-, and spoke nonsense!

Sure, he knew he was good looking, but this was absolutely ridiculous! What was she exactly trying to achieve here?! What was she expecting to happen?! Him to sweep her off her feet and ride into the sunset in the most romantic way possible?! He barely knew her! She was distant from him during the separation of the Soviet Union back in 1991. He had offered to take her out and see the city of Manhattan when she came to stay with him, but she declined coldly. What did this girl even see in him?!

Of course he was scared!

But.........

Something small inside him didn't feel scared. Sure his whole body was quaking in fear, and his brain was trying to comprehend what to do next. But......

For some reason.....he was sad. Was this all she saw? Marriage? She had lived in a cold and dark world, and was raised by Ivan, starved of love and attention. Did she even know what that word meant? Maybe.......she just wanted that love from someone.

Alfred mentally froze, and forced down a sudden wave of blush. What the hell?! No! He was not going to give into her! First off, he would look absolutely weak, and she'd get what she'd want! You don't just give someone what they want! They need to learn it for themselves. Second, he didn't like her that way. Sure, he thought she was bad-ass, and actually....kinda pretty...

But that didn't mean he was suddenly gonna throw himself at her feet and proclaim his undying love for her. That's what she was doing!

The silence was suddenly broken, by a small and frail voice. "I don't want you to be afraid of me. I want you to love me."

What in the name of Uncle Sam was this girl even talking about?! Alfred was 99 percent sure that was what she was trying to do.

'Shouldn't have protected her,' he angrily thought. 'Should have stayed back'.

No, he did the right thing. He did it because he couldn't just let her suffer. He had seen the way Ivan treated her, and it always made him realize even more and more. He truly did hate her. And seeing her do almost anything for Ivan...was stupid! Ivan was an absolute idiot! He was cold and heartless, and seeing Natalya bend down and worship him, made him so sad. She was starved for so long. She was starved of love and attention, and had no grip on independence whatsoever! She should set her sights on another man who will love her back.....

But not him! Anyone but him! She had always irritated with him back then! Why him out of every nation here?! Why didn't she set her sights on Lithuania? Toris would practically treat her like a goddess everyday just for her attention! That dude was crushing on Natalya like crazy! So why not him?! He showed her his love, and wasn't that what she wanted?!

Suddenly, Alfred remembered that the two once went out to eat together....but that didn't end very well. She ended up completely screwing his fingers up! Geez, why was this girl so hard to understand?!

He felt a tug on his tie interrupt his thoughts. He focused his attention back on Belarus.

"Tell me what I must do." She reassured, reaching up to wipe a tear from her glossy doll-like cheek. Maybe this was why he couldn't fight back. She was like a delicate porcelain doll, her fragile surface almost vulnerable to anything. A beauty indeed she was on the outside, but cold and hollow on the inside. If she were to shatter, there would be nothing but empty blackness left.

Broken.

"I want you to love me Alfred," She demanded, suddenly sounding more apoplectic.

Fragile.

She shook his shoulders, sounding more desperate with each word. "I need you to love me! Let me satisfy you Amieryka!"

Unwanted.

Suddenly, she let a mournful cry erupt from her mouth, and suddenly squeezed his body tightly in her grip. Her chest collided against his, and her knees pressed up against his legs.

Alone.

"I want you more than anything! Become one with me!"

She was broken.....unwanted....alone.

Run.

People would always run from her, and let fear weigh them down. No love.

She was a broken...unwanted girl. Deep in there, she was delicate...like a flower in the cold. She had shattered, and no one would put her back together.

She had....always been dependent on herself. She had never...had anyone...to fix her.

Just like a careless little girl dropping the glass doll to the ground, Ivan shattered Natalya. And he was never going to put her back together.

All he could hear were her screams and cries. No one wanted her. No one loved her. No one cared about her.

All this time....was that all she wanted? Love and attention? To be....put back together?

Before America could recollect his thoughts, and finally talk to the girl, he heard loud and harsh footsteps.

He saw a towering figure walk up from behind Belarus, and grab her shoulders. Before Natalya could react, the figure harshly tugged back, her grip slipping his body. She toppled to the ground, and landed right under the figure's feet. Above her, stood a blonde man with towering height, wearing an alarming frown, and silver glasses resting upon his nose.

The most intimidating man of all. Sweden. He stared down at the platinum-haired girl, and coldly glared at her. Her eyes widened, and she quickly sat up.

"Alfred! Alfred are you okay?!" He heard a voice cry from behind Sweden. Sweden stepped aside, and a hectic British man took his place. In his hands, were Alfred's silver-rimmed glasses.

America wanted to scream at the Brit for leaving him hanging, but was too relieved to let anything leave his lips.

England took in the scene- the demolished door, the Belarusian on the floor, splinters stuck in Alfred's blonde locks, his crumpled tie that hung out from his jacket- and gave the younger a concerned stare.

"What the bloody hell went down in here?" He exclaimed, passing by the Belarusian and to the American. Before he could kneel down beside Alfred, someone flashed through his vision, and stood as a barrier between him and America. Natalya growled, bearing white fangs under bright cherry blossom lips.

"Do not get any closer to my Amieryka," She warned, reaching a hand down to grasp Alfred's. America flinched at her touch, and moved his hand away.

"You can't tell me what to do." Arthur began. "You are not me mum!"

Suddenly, Alfred felt a laugh bubbling inside his chest. He desperately held it back, slapping a hand over his mouth. Now was not the appropriate time to laugh at the way Arthur spoke...no matter how hilarious it was. England flashed the American man a glare, and turned back to Natalya.

"Belarus, this is absolute nonsense!" He exclaimed, his giant eyebrows peeking down into a frown. "Why are you doing this?"

"Amieryka and I are to become one," she stated. Her lips curled into a smile, and she let a laugh boom from her throat. It pounded against Alfred's skull, and he cringed. England took a nervous step back, and flashed a bemused glance at America. America returned the glance with a frightened one, shrugging his shoulders, mouthing "I don't know!".

"D-do something!" England hissed to Alfred, glaring at him coldly, "She's the only one who'll listen to you."

America curled his fingers in his hair and let out a deep sigh. "U-Uhm Natalya..." He sighed, accepting his glasses from the hand of England. He slipped Texas onto the bridge of his nose, and continued to talk.

"I-I'm not really sure.....if uhm.....we're exactly....getting married."

Belraus snapped her head back down to Alfred, and let her smile dissolve.

"What did you say?" She growled, curling her long pale fingers into threatening fists.

Alfred gulped, and refused to let a sheet white color flush his cheeks. But...he can't be afraid. He...he won't be afraid.

A broken girl. That's all she was. And she was...she was so alone. And no one here was going to help. No one would hear her cry, no one would hear her screams, no one would miss her if she died.

Only two people in this whole world cared about her. Toris, and Katyusha. But Toris was becoming more hesitant around Natalya these days, and hanging out around Poland. And Katyusha. What about Katyusha? She was struggling with her terrible economic support, and trying to gain allies. These days, she barely had any time for Natalya. Ukraine stayed away from Ivan, and Natalya always lurked with Ivan.

So she really was alone....

No she wasn't. She had him.

What was he even saying?! Alfred figured he finally lost his marbles. Why should he care about this?! His boss and her boss could never get along, and in the past, she chose her destiny. She had coldly brushed him aside, and from there, their relationship as acquaintances went down hill. But now...she was begging him to become one with her!

But still deep down inside...he wanted to help. He had seen the terrible state of her country after the disbandment of the Union, and no one was gonna help her. So as the hero he was and would always be....he helped. But it ended as quick as it started. They never spoke again after that.

But he knew that she was still suffering. And still...no one would help her.

Alfred's bemused and terrified glance dissolved, and he straightened himself out. He straightened out his tie, vigorously tightening it and tucking it back in his shirt.

Brave. He had to be brave. With his head titled downward, his eyes flashing up at Natalya, he took a reluctant step forward.

He had to be smart. He may not be the smartest of them all, but he could manage just fine. He wanted to help her. She was suffering. She was suffering from independence, and the cruelty of Russia. And for all those years, no one wanted to help her. No one was going to piece her back together.

He ripped his other glove from his hand, and threw it down beside him. Alfred planted his two hands upon her small shoulders, and tightened his grip on them. Natalya flinched, and her angered frown was replaced with a scared stare.

He didn't want to scare her. He wasn't trying to.

'Be smart,' Alfred thought. 'Think before you say.'

His grip on her shoulders began to shake, and he suddenly let a hot and messy stream of tears flood down his cheeks. Why was he crying?

She was so broken, she was so lost, she was so alone. It was so heartbreaking to think about. Behind the mask of violet eyes that bore anger and a burning spirit, there was a terrified girl in the dark, waiting for the light to come flooding back in again. And she would wait for forever. But the light would never come. No one would try to bring the sun to her again. No one was going to piece back together her shattered soul.

And Ivan did this. He left her in the dark, when he was the only family she had left. And he would bring nothing but cold and merciless winter to the poor girl. It would chase away the sunlight, and snow until she was frozen. And every day, he knew that she was going to pray that the clouds would part to give way to the sun, and thaw the ice in her heart. Because with a frozen heart...she could never truly love. With a frozen heart...she would always be alone.

He wanted to thaw out her heart, and just see her smile. He just wanted to set the broken girl free from her winter prison, and see her true colors. She was more than just glares and cold blades. She could be something more.

And he could be the one to open this door. Alfred could bring her the sun, and she would finally live again. She could understand love, and follow her heart, instead of assuming it was him that she loves, just because of the attention he gave her. She could learn that the world really will accept her, and her heart will follow along.

And she wouldn't be alone. Never again. Alfred wouldn't allow it.

He had to tell her this. Alfred didn't want her to think she was alone. She had given up long ago, and he couldn't let her slowly freeze to death in the winter that Ivan left her to mourn in.

The same thoughts hammered nonstop into Alfred's skull, and he felt a sudden rush of blood in his forehead.

He knew that Natalya could see the tears in his eyes, because she carefully reached over, and gently touched his cheek.

He knew she could be more. She was human. And she had emotion.

Suddenly, without warning, Alfred felt terribly lightheaded, and he swiveled to the left. His glasses slid from his nose, and fell to the floor with a clatter.

He wanted to set her free. He wanted to help her. He wanted to cure her of this madness.

"America!" Arthur exclaimed. His words didn't reach him, because Alfred collided with the floor before the Brit could open his mouth.

All those thoughts kept eating away at his brain, and one last tear slipped from his eye. She was going to be alone until she would finally freeze over, and never see the sun again. But he wouldn't let that happen. He would figure something out.

He was sure.

Before a skull crushing pain took over him, leaving him unconscious, he swore something.

He promised to himself that he was going to help.

He was going to bring the sun back again. And the ice would be gone.