A/N: Am I supposed to be updating my other stories? Yup. Was this a plot bunny that just couldn't get out of my head? Yup. Anyway, this has spoilers for up to 16 2/2 of HetaOni. Basically, if you understand the title, then you can read. If you don't mind spoilers, you may also read. If neither of these things apply to you, read no farther!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia or HetaOni.

"I'm sorry America, I can no longer see."

Guilt is eating away at me as I hold on to England, letting him cry all over my jacket. This is all my fault. If only I had warned him of the consequences of using his magic, none of this would have happened. His eyes would still have that spark of life that had always been present before. They wouldn't be dead. Empty.

All my fault, why, why, I just wanted to help you.

Some hero.

"England. Iggy, shh, it's alright, I'm going to protect you."

Because I am. Because I remember that day, that day I looked through your spellbook on a whim, Iggy. I remember that spell I saw. Do you? Do you remember? Will you try and stop me?

"I-I-" He's stuttering as he sobs, grabbing my jacket as an anchor in an endless sea of black. He'll only be adrift for a little bit, just for awhile, just for a small amount of time. Then it will all be fine. Then everything will be as it should.

One night. Can you handle that, Iggy? One night, then you'll see again, I promise.

And he will scream at me. He'll call me an idiot for doing what I'm going to do. But I don't care. I need to put that spark back in his eyes, the spark that I stole away with my stupidity. I need to return the life to those emerald orbs.

"Come on. Let's get you out of here."

We walk back in silence, tears still streaming down his face as he stumbles, falls. I wince as I catch him. I'm looking into my own future now, and I know it. Soon I'll be the helpless one. Soon I'll be the one with the dead eyes. Soon I'll be the one caught in the dark, trapped in an eternal night.

We reach the safe room. Others are already there, leaning over Italy's lifeless body. The severity of the situation strikes me then. England has no magic, and Italy is dead. We can't go back in time. What's done after this point can't be undone.

England knows this too. I can see the fear in his face. He knows, thinks he knows, that his sight will never return. That even if we escape, he'll be condemned to centuries upon centuries in the dark. It was then that I truly hated the immortality of our kind.

And then there's a gasp from Japan.

"He's breathing! Italy's breathing!"

Germany sprints to his side as chocolate brown eyes open.

"Holy Rome..." Italy whispers in wonder, reaching up a hand to touch Germany's face. "I realize now...you...us...a long long time ago."

I can see Prussia shaking his head resignedly out of the corner of my eye. As Italy's eyes close, though this time the cause is exhaustion, not death, he takes his brother aside.

But, although I'm glad Italy's alive, I'm focused on only one. England. He looks just as afraid as before.

Because you would never ask us to go through all this again to give you back your sight. You've accepted your fate. You accepted it the moment you realized what had happened to you. You are so strong, England. Can you lend me some of that strength? Please?

Just for tonight. Just let me do what needs to be done. Give me your courage, England.

I look down at my hands. I remember my shock as a shield had burst from them, strong and powerful, just like England. Created from the magic he had given me, the magic that I can still feel crackling and sparkling beneath my skin. Looking for an outlet.

I wait for the night. That would be the best time to carry out my plan. Night, when everyone was asleep. Then when England woke and realized what I had done, it would be too late to reverse it. The spell was a one-way street.

Italy wakes and learns of England's fate. His eyes widen almost comically.

"Ve...oh no, this wasn't supposed to happen...I'm so, so sorry, England. I'll go find the clock, we can-"

England shakes his head. "No. We're all still alive. And that matters more than anything. You can't turn back time, Italy. Not now." And Italy nods, because he knows that England is right.

"Where are Spain and Romano?"

"Not back yet. The portal closed when I-" England can't say anything else. He can't remind himself of his loss. Italy looks down sadly.

"Are they trapped? Do you think that they-" I begin. Italy cuts me off.

"No. Roma's alive, that much I know." I don't ask how he knows. It's the same way Romano knew where to find us.

"What is he doing?"

Italy shakes his head in confusion. "Something about the past England...arguing with him about something. Anger...no...satisfaction now? What is going-"

There's a flash of light and there stand Spain and Romano. They are back. Everyone's okay. And I'm even more terrified, because now there's no way we can turn back time. I'll be trapped in the dark forever. Years will come and go and I will never again see the sky.

Is that what you think, England? Don't be afraid. You will see the light tomorrow morning. You will look around in wonder, thinking that maybe it's just a dream. And then you will see my...my lifeless, dead eyes...and you'll scream. In terror first, maybe, denial. Then when you realize what I've done the guilt will set in...and I'll have to convince you it's not your fault. Because it's not your fault, Iggy, it's mine. It's all mine...

The hours are passing by faster than I could ever imagine, and I'm trying to memorize everyone's face. Canada's soft smirk, France's stubbly beard, Russia's pink scarf which he will never remove, Prussia's blood-red eyes, Germany's slicked back hair, Italy's childish face. I even force myself to look into England's eyes so that I will always recall the precise shade of green. If I ignore the cloudiness, I can remember them exactly how they were a few hours ago. It feels like a lifetime.

Italy is sitting next to the still-in-shock Germany, curled up against him, resting his head on his shoulder. Apparently they were a couple in a previous life or...something. I admit that I wasn't playing the closest attention while Prussia was explaining the whole thing.

England sits next to me, brooding. Rethinking his whole life, probably. Trying to figure out how to live without one of his most important senses.

What would you say if you knew I was doing the same?

It's then that Japan suggests we turn in. My heart is hammering as I lie on my mattress, listening to the breathing of my fellow nations. Waiting until they're all in dreamland. One by one, their breathing evens out. All but one nation, who, after hearing all the breathing silent, starts crying. It's obvious who it is. I want to go and comfort him, but that would only wake everyone else up, humiliate him, and ruin everything. And so I feign sleep and wait for England's sobs to subside.

And now it's time. I stand and walk over to the table, where England has laid his book of spells. I find the right page in the light of the fire. Here it is. Page 134. The sight transfer. I stand, clutching the book in my left hand, and move to England's mattress. Tear tracks still shine on his face.

I'm so sorry. Everything will be okay in just a moment, I promise.

I begin to chant, my right hand glowing as I speak words I don't even know the meaning of. Old English? Latin? Something else entirely? I feel warmth in my eyes, and a blue mist leaves them, a green mist rising from behind England's shut lids. They join and mingle, turning a pure, glowing gold. The words are complete. My heart sounds like a steam engine in my ears, and I've never felt so alert, so aware. Every single particle of the room comes into crystal clear focus, and for one, fleeting moment, my sight is like that of an eagle. And then it slowly ebbs away, fading into a foggy mist.

It's happening so slowly and I want to scream, to sob, to beg for my sight to stay. I collapse to my knees, staring at England's face as it slowly becomes a blur of colors. And then there's nothing at all. Only darkness. A muffled sob rises from my throat as I pull my glasses off my face. I reach out and grab on to England's arm to assure myself that he's still here, that I'm not alone. I feel him stir sleepily and I let go, not wanting him to realize what I've done. Not yet.

I stumble away and somehow manage to find the table, and lower myself into a chair. And then I put my head in my hands and start to cry. I grow hysterical, slamming my hands into my eye sockets as if I can force my sight back into place. This can't be happening, this isn't happening, there's no way this can be happening. I start clawing at my face, a silent scream rising from my throat. Silent because, even in my terror, I still don't want to wake anyone.

No avail. I can hear someone standing, moving closer to me. Their footsteps are so quiet, and I barely hear them over my sobs. A pair of arms wraps around me and I jump, not expecting a hug.

"America?" the voice is a whisper. Canada. "What's wrong? Your fear woke me up." Right. The twin bond.

"I-I-I can't-Canada, it's so dark, so dark, make it come back, please make it come back. Please h-help me. Please, please, please."

"Shh, shh, I've got you, it's okay, it's okay. Oh America, you didn't."

He knows. He was there when I leafed through that book, he knows it's irreversible. He knows what I did.

"I had to, I had to, I didn't want to, but I had to, it's my fault, my fault, my fault."

"It wasn't, America, it wasn't. None of this was your fault."

"I had to fix it. I had to be the hero...I ruined everything for him, I needed to fix it."

Canada hugs me even closer.

"You are a hero. This is the bravest thing I've ever seen anybody do. I know England will think so. You've given him his life back, you know."

I nod. I'm starting to calm down now that there's another person here, someone to assure me I'm not in some bottomless, endless void.

"That's why I did it."

I don't know how long we sit there for, Canada mumbling nothing and everything into my ear. My tears are still flowing freely though, no matter how many times Canada wipes them away. I hear the sounds of someone stirring and panic sets in.

"It's not England, don't worry, it's only Italy." He must know I don't want England to see me like this.

"Ve? America, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

I don't want to answer, don't want to say those words. I'm blind. If I say that then it will be true. Maybe that's why England didn't put it so bluntly. I can no longer see.

"He switched his sight with England's," said Canada, turning away from his whispering to speak to Italy. Italy gasps and before I know it, I'm being practically suffocated by the skinny man. His arms are like the coils of an anaconda, or a steel trap of some kind. I panic, thrashing around to try and escape. Italy barely notices.

"A little gentler, Italy?" Canada asks timidly.

"Ve? Oh, sorry, sorry! He loosens his grip and I can breath again. Italy is talking a mile a minute.

"You're so brave, you know, doing that for England, I mean, I don't know if I could ever do that, you know you didn't have to, we can turn back time if you want, give you your sight back-"

"No," I say firmly.

That was one thing you were absolutely right about England. I may be stuck in the dark forever, but I'm not going to let us go through this hell again just so I can be selfish.

"I may be..." and I say the word, because I have to accept it "...blind, but I'm not making you, or me, or any of us, go through that again."

Italy squeezes me, gratefully, because despite his offer, he would never ever want to turn back time unless it was absolutely necessary. The tears still aren't showing any signs of stopping. And I can hear another yawn. And this time there's a gasp accompanying it. A gasp full of wonder. Like a blind man seeing the light...

"I...I can see? But why is it so blurry?" It's England. No doubt about it. "America? Is that you?"

"Y-Yeah." Nervousness is thick in my voice as I turn my glasses over in my hands. He'll need these now.

"Are you alright?" he asks, and I hear footsteps walking towards me.

I take a deep, shuddery breath, and hold up my glasses.

"Here. Take them."

I guess that he puts them on, he takes them from my hands, at least. And then there's another gasp as it all adds up.

"You...you didn't," he says, unknowingly echoing Canada. "Please tell me you didn't." I say nothing.

"No..NO!" I hear a thud as he lands on his knees, his hands tightening over my shoulders. "Please...please tell me this isn't happening! Please tell me this is some kind of cruel joke, or a dream, or...or something! Anything!"

The tears continue to flow, more coming as I listen to England break down.

You care more about me losing my sight then you going blind yourself. I did this for you, don't you see that? Be happy. You have your life back. You won't spend centuries in the dark. You'll see the sky when we're free. You'll see everything. So much color, so much life. You deserve it far more than me.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Still in denial. Still not wanting to believe that I actually gave up my sight for him.

"Sorry, England," I say. "But I'm blind."

Because I've always been more blunt about these kinds of things than you.

A/N: I may continue this, I have an idea for another chapter. But I've gotta update my other stuff first so...see ya later maybe!
-Winged Quill