Warning: I wrote these usually while pissed. Violence. They are in short (super short ugh) parts but I separated them for impact, mostly.

Um... yeah, there will be at least two sets, mayybe three. Maybe. (update: there are three)

Note: do not read if you LOVE the 2p nations. They are not loved in this fic.

I do not own hetalia.

Matthew screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed, but he knew nobody was coming. He knew he had no guardian angel awaiting his call, no demon awaiting his anguish. Everyone was preoccupied. Everyone was too busy.

Too busy, as usual.

But this time, he needed help for someone else. Though Matthew was in a considerable amount of pain himself, his twin was in much, much more. Alfred writhed on the ground in agony, face twisted to match the horrors he was feeling or seeing. Over him stood the smug figure of his counterpart, the twisted version of Alfred himself. A dripping syringe was held lightly in the villain's hand, the liquid already injected into the thrashing American.

"Alfred!" Matthew screamed, but no one was coming. Not even for Alfred.

"Shut up!" A rough hand cuffed him on the side of the head and he fell to the ground, the smack being one of many from before. His own counterpart was the dealer of the hit and he held the hysterical Canadian back, keeping him from helping his brother.

"There isn't enough room in the world for two Americas." Allen's eyes glinted dangerously. "Or two Canadas, for that matter. Though this world's seems so passive it would be more fun to play than to take him out. You, however, are much too strong for your own good. It's really too bad; I was looking forward to spending more time with you."

A smirk stretched across the redhead's face. "But don't worry too much, doll. You'll probably survive to see me again." Alfred groaned in agony and laughter peeled from the standing American. With a solid kick to Alfred's side, Allen stalked off.

"You're pathetic," Matthew heard in his ear, the rough voice sending fearful shivers through him. "Canada is the strongest nation of them all, but here, you're worthless." Matthew flinched at hearing his inner thoughts vocalized.

"I can't even stand to look at you right now." Matt threw him to the ground and Matthew heard retreating footsteps. The blonde nation whimpered and curled in on himself until he heard the heart-wrenching sound of Alfred's pain.

"A-Alfred?" Matthew crawled over to the American hesitantly, blood dripping from his leg. He barely even noticed it as he pressed his hand to his brother's forehead, drawing it away with a hiss. The normally brazen American was burning up.

"A-Alfred, I'll go get… get help, okay?" Matthew said quietly. There was no sign that his brother heard him and Matthew tried to stand up. After a dozen failed tries, he accepted there was no way he was going to support his weight on his mutilated leg. He settled for lying next to his brother and periodically wiping the sweat off his brow, too fatigued to do anything else.

As he stared at Alfred a certain sadness overtook him. The American let out a pained shout and the sadness deepened into self-deprecation. If only he was stronger, if only he could stand up for Alfred as he had done so many times for him…

"M-Matt-ie…" Alfred sputtered out. The Canadian turned his attention to his brother frantically, the American staring up at him through glazed eyes.

"Yes, Al?" Matthew whispered, brushing some hair out of his brother's eyes.

"I… can't see. I-I can't see!" Alfred started thrashing again, crying out. Matthew flinched and gathered his twin in his arms, calming him down somewhat.

"It's okay, Alfred. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." Matthew was grateful for his naturally soothing voice because he was terrified.

"B-but I-I'm…" Alfred coughed violently and twitched. He mumbled something incoherent but Matthew could make out the word "Hero".

"Even a hero needs protection sometimes," Matthew said softly, hugging him to his chest. Alfred's unseeing eyes blinked rapidly, tears falling freely.

"Please protect me Mattie…" Alfred murmured before finally slipping into unconsciousness. Matthew froze.

Alfred never asked for help. He was always the hero, the one protecting him. And their corrupt counterparts, the nations from another world, had dragged Alfred so low that he had weakly asked for Matthew's help. They had tortured him and Alfred for hours using various methods when they decided to take out Alfred, the stronger one of the two.

They did this. They were the reason why he couldn't walk and Alfred was sick and agonized.

He felt anger rise up inside him, pushing against the edge. Matthew knew his limits and knew if he wanted to stay normal he had to reign it in, but he made no such effort. Anger swirled through his veins and pulsed in his bones as an unknown amount of time passed.

"Hey, boys. Long time no see." An evil smirk was on Allen's face. His brother was right behind him, Matt's smirk less visible but more sinister. A hockey stick was clenched in his grasp and Matthew's eyes zeroed in on it.

"Oh, he's still alive? I'd say bummer, but I'm just so excited to start playing again!" Allen's eyes landed on Alfred and he licked his lips.

Snap