Sometimes We Fall

Chapter 2

Notes: Thank you so much for the support, your comments were truly heart-warming and appreciated!

As promised, here is the last chapter – quite a bit longer than the other one.

I hope you'll enjoy this, and please review!

Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, and so does the cover picture. I don't get any profit from writing this.

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Chapter Two

England was in a daze as he stormed out of the house, his legs automatically carrying him towards the tree he had previously stumbled upon listening to America's cries. All he could focus on was the memory of Canada's frame huddled on the ground. He couldn't understand how he had dismissed his injuries – the child has been curled up on himself, unmoving, his skin had been so pale... how could England have not realized that he was hurt?

Because you were focused on Alfred, who was crying, and you forgot about anything else.

The brutal truth of the thought wasn't a sufficient justification. If anything, it made the matter worse. Theoretically, England knew that Canada was quieter than America, that it was harder for the second colony to express his needs – but England always forgot to act accordingly. His stomach twisted painfully, he had to swallow down the bile at the back of his throat.

"Is Mattie going to be all right?"

England started as the small voice disrupted his train of thoughts, prompting him to cast a glance behind his shoulders. America was trotting behind him, uncaring of the torn tunic that had slid down his shoulder, his still red eyes huge on his uncharacteristically pale skin.

England's mind automatically went back to Canada's ashen face.

'I have no idea. Because I left him alone and didn't even check,' would have been the truthful answer, but it wasn't one England could offer America – the only child he hadn't betrayed, whose eyes still looked full of trust as he waited for his reply.

"Of course he is, love. We just need to take care of him," he answered with a fake smile, trying to ignore the unbearable weight at the bottom of his stomach.

England slowed down for a single moment to let America catch up with him, then he swiftly picked up the child and held him against his chest. He had been intentioned to leave America inside the safety of the house, but now that the child was beside him, England couldn't let him run, in his concern, he might trip and get hurt... England couldn't have borne that, he could feel his heart threatening to burst at the mere thought.

America didn't protest. He curled up against England's chest as his older brother ran and grabbed his shirt, the tense grip conveying all his perturbation. England could feel the child hold his breath against his chest, but he to refuse to think about the implications, or he would break down – instead, he forced his legs to move faster.

When he reached the tree, England was out of breath and dizzy. The panic eating at his mind felt like a déjà vu. He almost didn't register as he crouched down to let America free, his ringing ears barely caught the high-pitched cry of "Mattie!".

All England could focus on was the child right in front of him, curled into a ball and clutching his left shoulder. He hadn't moved from the position England had left him, but his eyes were closed on his sickly wan face. His bear companion was right next to him, but he wasn't a concern of England's.