World War 2p! (formerly 2p! Realization)

Heartache Attack

When Spain finally released him and pulled away, Romano just stared, his face bright red, a half-smile pasted upon his face. "Lovi.... I think this is the happiest I've ever seen you!" The spaniard observed cheerily. When he heard the exclamation, Romano tried to scowl, but the stupid smile just kept coming back even more than before. "Damn..." He growled, sitting up. Spain took him by the hands and pulled him to his feet. Romano quickly turned away and crossed his arms in a huff. When he felt a large hand on his shoulder, he turned around and saw it was Spain, with a smile somewhere between a grin and a smirk. "Lovi..." He murmured. " I'm so glad you're alive."

Romano instantly flushed a deeper color. "Y-you too, idiota... Dammit, do you have any idea how much you scared me?! I thought you might never wake up! Don't you fucking dare do that again, got it?!" Spain's expression sobered, and he choked out, "Romano... You know I can't promise that, but... I'll do my best, okay? I won't leave unless it's necessary." Romano glared. "No. You'll never leave me. Period. Promise me." He pushed. Spain sighed but nodded. "Alright. I'll never leave you." Romano nodded, satisfied.

Suddenly, they heard shouts coming from the direction of the Colosseum. "Help! Please! Somebody help!" It was America. He was half-running down the street towards them, carrying a limp body in his arms. "Dammit! Help! He won't wake up! Anybody, please help!!!" When he got to the small group of Europeans, he laid the body down, shaking it and screaming similarly to Romano's shouts, yet more hysterical and desperate. "America. Calm down. We'll do what we can." Germany ordered, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Dude, I know you didn't just try to tell me to calm down. England is... He's not moving! Or breathing! Or... Anything! But he must be alive! He must be!" America cried, squeezing the Englishman's hand desperately. "WAKE. UP!!!!"

"America---" Germany was cut off as France walked up, asking "What the hell is going on? I heard ye..ll..." He trailed off, dropping to his knees at the sight of the man laying on the ground, whispering, "Angleterre..."

Germany sighed. "Both of you, listen to me. I do not want to get your hopes up, but... There is something that could save him... A kiss." America stared at him incredulously. "A kiss? Dude, you've gotta be kidding me! Why would that help? Well, unless you mean like in Sleeping Beauty..." He pondered. "Oui, that could definitely work... If he is not.... But we cannot think that way! We will simply have to try it and see." France agreed, leaning down to place a gentle, sensual kiss onto England's lips. "Hey!" America protested, pulling him up, "Not cool!" Next, He leaned in, much more slowly than France had, and kissed England quickly before pulling away, slightly embarrassed.

Romano stood nearby, attempting to figure out what happened. Meanwhile, many other nations had arrived, and soon, most of the world was gathered in the square. Japan knelt down, checking his pulse, which the others had not done yet. He bowed his head out of respect. " England is... Dead."

The response was immediate. America began to sob and scream, France looked as if he would never smile again, Canada gasped and buried his face into the fabric of Prussia's shirt, Spain's mouth flew open, and he pulled Romano close, while Romano did not even flinch. Italy burst into tears, and Germany wrapped his arms around him, murmuring comforting words.  

"It is your fault! How could you let him die? You were supposed to be the hero and protect him!" France screeched accusingly. " dude... Dude I couldn't! He wouldn't let me! I would have sacrificed the world for him, but he made me sacrifice him instead, just like you made him sacrifice you!" America sobbed back.

Canada kneeled between them and put a hand on each of their shoulders. "France, America... Both of you, listen to me. This is neither of your fault. 2p! England lied to you, America. The other 2p!s brought him back. He must still be out there somewhere. We need his blood to bring England back. it's the only way." He explained, consoling the two nations.

France shook his head. " No. it is still America's fault. I cannot bear this... This imbalance. The two lovers are separated by death... America, you must be the Romeo to his Juliette. Goodbye." And with that, he pulled out a knife and slit America's throat. The other nations immediately pounced upon France, restraining him and wrestling the knife from his hand. "It had to be done," He said, smiling sadly to himself, "love is once again balanced."

((Guys... GUYS! I'M FINALLY SORTA BACK! I'm sorry for my lengthy absence. Long Tory shotgun, school and free time are mortal enemies. Anyway, I know it's kinda short, but he next chapter is THE LAST CHAPTER!!! I don't know whether to be happy or sad!

EDIT: Okay, I typed that authors note on my ipad, so I meant "Long story short." and "the"........ MY IPAD IS ANNOYING AS HECK))