Hey guys, back with another chapter! Go ahead and read!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, because if I did, some very awesome pairings would be more than just pairings.

Warnings: lots of cussing, rough handling of countries, torture, betrayal

Song of the Chapter: People Like Us by Kelly Clarkson


Chapter 10: Russian Betrayal


"British Isles? You want to go there-aru?" China asked.

"We need Denmark and Iceland on our side!" I countered.

"Then get England to poof them up, da?" Russia said from the pilot seat.

"No, that wouldn't work! They don't know this world like my friends do."

"Get someone else-aru." China said.

"No! It has to be them!"

"Become one with Mother Russia, and all things will be solved, da?"

"That is so completely random! And no fucking way!"

"Kolkolkol..."

"Pay your taxes, America, and I might have considered this-aru."

"How is that even relevant?!"

"Stop fighting, all of you." Spain said from behind me. All three countries turned to Spain in surprise. "I agree with America. It might be risky, but I think we should go with his judgement, as he has been in this world for much longer than we have."

I looked at Spain, surprised. "Wow, thanks man."

"No problemo, mi amigo! I really just want to teach my other self that ruling over people like that isn't right."

I smiled. "That's the spirit, dude!"


"Okay, England, Russia, you know the plan?"

"Da, this will be fun!"

"Why are we the bait again?" England asked, not comfortable with the chains constricting his body.

I smiled. These chains couldn't hold me, and Britian would know that, but I would be 'knocked out', so it will look more realistic.

"Because Britain will probably want to get information out of you. Plus, if you do things right, we'll need you to act like Britain."

England sighed. "Fine. But love, please try not to overdo everything again."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Just come here." I kissed his lips, and then Delaware pulled us apart and put a gag in England's mouth.

"Now remember your acting, everyone. Russia, just be normal."

He picked England up first in his left hand, and held him by his stomach so he was hanging by Russia's side. He picked me up, and literally flung me over his shoulder. I punched him, and I could imagine him smiling sweetly.

"Let's remember out acting now, America, da?"

I rolled my eyes, but let my body go limp. Russia chuckled. "Let the party begin, da?"


Russia quickly walked us away from the plane, then started to slow his pace until he was at a leisurely stroll. Just in case someone was nearby, I had to stay limp at all times, which was becoming increasingly difficult. England was making some kind of muffled noise through his gag, and Russia was whistling happily. It was if it was actually happening.

"Halt! Who goes there!?" Someone yelled. I felt something cold press into my neck and it took all of my willpower to stay still.

"I am Russia, da? I have brought England and America as a peace offering." He said happily. Damn, he was either a really good actor or he was really enjoying this. It didn't take long to figure out which one it was.

Down below me, England started to struggle more. I felt a cold hand lift my head up, and I kept my face limp as if I were still unconscious. They dropped my face and it rammed painfully into Russia's back. Ouch.

"So you are from the other world?" Someone asked. I recognized the accent as Latvia. Damn, he was grown here, wasn't he?

"Da." Russia confirmed.

"And you captured them for what purpose?" A gruff voice I didn't recognize asked. The accent was from somewhere near England, though... Dutch, maybe?

"I told you already. I wish to join your side, da?" Russia said happily.

There were whispers, some more scared than others, and then the gruff voice came back. "Fine. We'll lead you to Master Britain."

And we were off again. The gun was still pointed at my head, but I was supposed to still be unconscious, so I was.

"Will America wake up soon?" The gruff voice asked. I had narrowed it down to either Scotland or Netherlands.

"He should not, I knocked him out pretty good with my pipe, da?"

I heard some scuffling, and then Latvia whisper to someone else. "The other Russia has a pipe, too?! I'm glad he's on our side."

England had stopped trying to struggle, as Russia glided easier across the ground. This was going smoother than planned.

"Are you absolutely sure?" The gruff voice asked.

"Da, but if you wish to make sure, then be my guest."

Damn, this wasn't part of the plan! Russia, what the hell-

A blunt object hit me across my cheek, causing me to jerk to the side. Russia obviously didn't have a good grip on me, because I crumpled to the ground. Damn, I landed head-first.

I had to stay awake. I had to stay awake - someone stomped their foot onto my head, making the world spin from inside my eyelids (which is way worse).

"Mm-mm-mm-m!" England screamed through his gag. Things were starting to get hazy, and I was starting not to feel the boot jamming into my skull.

"I think he is knocked out." Latvia said timidly. I could barely make out the words.

"Yeah, he hasn't moved unless I made him." The gruff voice answered. These were even worse.

I could just barely feel myself being lifted onto Russia's shoulder again. I slipped into actual unconsciousness just as they started to walk forward.


England's POV


I watched as Holland's gun rammed into America's cheek as best as I could. Then his body fell right in front of me. What scared me was I couldn't tell whether he was faking being unconscious or not. Then Belgium started to ram her boot into his skull, until her boot came back bloody.

Holland and Russia had more conversation. I attempted to yell to America through my gag, but it wouldn't work and only erupted snickers from Belgium. We had started walking again and Belgium was knocking her gun against my face on purpose, I knew it.

"Should we knock out the little Britain, too?" She asked in her sing-song voice.

"No. Master Britain will want him awake when he disciplines America." Holland said casually.

My eyes widened. No, Russia wouldn't let that happen, right? I glanced up at him, and he looked genuinely happy. Damn, he wasn't faking being happy. He'd probably ask to have a swing at a defenseless America if things came to it.

Wait, would they have things strong enough to hold America? I mean, he bench-pressed five two trucks at once for a warm-up. No, they wouldn't and we could escape before everything went bad.

I tuned back into reality, to find that we were inside. People were staring at us, but our little party continued forward.

Holland led us into a grand room that had a throne at the end. I nearly vomited when I saw who was on it, and I figured out why he was smiling so widely.

"Ah, Russia! Good to know you joined the right side! I heard that you were the one that took down America?" He said in an overly-peppy tone.

Russia smiled. I growled through my cloth. Took down, my arse. "Da. It wasn't that hard when I threatened this one." He held me up higher and I rolled my eyes.

"Excellent! If you'll hand them over to my Russia, I can get you situated in your own suite!"

"That sounds nice, da?" He threw America at the other Russia, who barely tried to catch him. I winced as I heard something crack as he was flung over their Russia's shoulder. I was roughly handed, and then we were off: Russia in one direction with Britain, Holland and them in another, and their Russia and us in another.

Russia swiftly walked to a white door. He typed in a code on a keypad, and it opened. He closed it with his foot and a dim lightbulb flickered on.

There were two sets of chains hanging from the wall. One was glittering a pretty silver color, and the other was rusted and worn. Russia threw me on the ground near the rusty chains and continued with America to the silver chains, which I noticed there were a lot more of.

First, Russia took America's body and tied the chains around his wrists and ankles, then one around his waist. He then pushed a button on the opposite wall, and the chains were pulled into the wall so his wrists, ankles, and waist were practically attached to the wall. His head hung limply forward, blood dripping off of the healing wound.

Russia made his way over to me. No matter how much I struggled, he had about as much trouble with me as he did with America: none. He attached my wrists and ankles, then pressed another button and I was raised into the air to America's height, but I was still hanging. Russia then promptly left the room, without taking my gag off.

I growled at the door as it's lock clicked shut. I then stretched my foot out and nudged America's leg. He didn't respond and I was starting to get worried.

I glanced at the door, seeing no one there, then pulled back my foot, and rammed it as high as I could: his armpit. He grunted, then shifted as much as he could (read: not at all).

He lifted his head and looked around. He saw me. "Oh god, England-" He tried to move towards me but only his head moved. He seemed to notice his restraints.

"Damn, what the hell?" He flexed his arms, his legs, and his stomach (which I totally didn't admire) and started cursing. All he was doing was getting the chains to pull tighter. "What the hell is this stuff made of?!"

"A mix of metals. You didn't think I wouldn't prepare for you, now would you, America?" Britain's voice said from the doorway. America's head whipped up and I slowly turned mine.

We weren't that far off of the ground - only about two feet - but it sure looked that way from how short the other Britain was (obviously shorter than I am).

"We meet again, America. And this time, you brought your precious boyfriend!" He made a lustful smile. "I wonder how he'll react to seeing you being relentlessly beaten?"

I glared at him, and America started to struggle more. "Dammit! I won't let my Iggy see me this way!"

Before I could react, there was white-hot pain running through my leg. I cried out through my gag and looked down to see a long gash across my leg from some sort of knife. I looked up to see a bloody knife was being held by Britain.

"Ah-ah, America, silence down. Or do you want little Iggy to get hurt more?" There was another flash of pain on the same leg and I could practically feel the 'X' he made in my skin.

America quieted down beside me, and I hated it. I was practically screaming at him in my head to continue to fight - I could take the pain - and to get us free.

He sighed. "Fine. Do your worst, but leave England out of this."

I was screaming at him with my eyes, but he looked down at the ground, away from me, in shame.

"Excellent job, America! It seems I've broken you well! Now, what should we start with...? Ah!" He whipped something out from his boot and threw it at America. A knife embedded itself into his left thigh... and he didn't cry out. In fact, his facial expression didn't change.

"Ah, taking on that role again, are we? I'll fix that in just a-"

There was a scream, and it took me a while to figure out it was mine. He had thrown a knife into my right forearm, and had obviously hit something important, because it hurt like hell.

"Iggy! Stop it, I said to leave him out of this!"

"I did, but I get more pain from you when I torture him, so I've decided to bring the pain down on you both at the same time! Won't that be fun?!"

I panted. Damn, had I screamed for a long time. Did he hit an artery or something?

"Iggy, move!"

Pain like I've never felt before sprung from my torso. I held back a scream. I wouldn't scream. But when I looked down to see what Britain was doing, I let out a small squeak. He was pushing a hot 'Property of Dictatorship' iron pressed into my flesh, as the cloth had seared away long ago.

I squirmed, but he just pressed harder, making the pain all the more real. After that, I just couldn't hold it back. "Arsehole!" I screamed at him, though I doubt it came out that way through the gag, attempting to kick him. He jumped back with ease.

I breathed heavily. America was yelling some insult at Britain, but all I could focus on was the new scar I had across my non-existent abs.

America was calling out to me, so obviously I did the most logical thing: I passed out from shock.

If only Russia had stuck to the plan.


Uh-oh! Back at Britain's place! What does this mean for our heros?!

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~PurpleLuna98