Warning/ Rated M for: Eating disorders, depression, language

Pairings: None

Beta: Rainpath-1252

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia- Axis Powers

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Ending #Error Incalculable

America

America felt a dull ache in his chest and his sky blue eyes grow warm and moist. That always happened when he was about to die.

Sitting with his arms loosely wrapped around his knees, the sleeves and legs of his pristine white suit blending together, he stared at Alfred with a sad smile. He gently allowed one of his giant fluffy white wings to brush Alfred's once golden hair as if the nation was a delicate porcelain doll.

The angel sighed softly as he looked over the naked nation lying face down on the cold tile floor near the shallow bathtub. It was clear that Alfred just barely managed to roll himself out of the full bathtub before passing out, one rail-thin arm still limply hanging off of the tub's edge.

His sickly gray skin was pulled tight across his body- save the slightly sagging, hollow area where is stomach should be- and practically all of his bones, tendons, even joints were clearly showing, from the minuscule bones composing his spine to the deep crevasse of his collar bone. It made him look like he was a completely different species, or like there was another creature trying to force itself out from inside of him.

Maybe Alfred wanted to be with him? This thought crossed America's mind, causing him to slightly furrow his eyebrows. There wasn't really any excuse he could find. It explained why Alfred's sharp shoulder blades looked like wings trying to break through his skin and why the young nation had jumped off so many buildings in his life.

The more America thought about this, the more his eyes hurt and he felt his cheeks grow warmer.

He had the sudden urge to remove his clothes and put them on Alfred. He wanted desperately to trade spots. with him. To take away his pain and replace it with the numb feeling that came with being an angel- well, aside from the times when the nations were at Death's door, but America was sure Alfred could live with that.

But... he couldn't. So instead, he hummed a slow, graceful song and gently stroked Alfred's dry hair. Maybe that would block out all of the screaming coming from the hallway and all of the pounding on the bathroom door.

America abruptly stopped humming and froze.

He was gone. Alfred was gone.

A single, golden tear ran down America's cheek.

America then laid face down on the floor next to Alfred so that their positions were mirror images of each other- except instead of his arm on the edge of the bathtub, America placed his across the shoulders of Alfred. He stared at the other's pale, slack face as he wrapped a giant wing around the cold body.

"Alfred..." the angel muttered slowly, savoring the feel of the name on his tongue. How long had it been since he spoke to his ward? A year? Huh, perhaps the real question was how long would it be until Alfred could finally hear him? "Alfred... You need to stop this, please. I don't know how it feels, but, please, stop doing this to yourself. It doesn't work, you're fated to live. No matter how many times you try to kill yourself, I'll bring you back. It's a never ending story."

But like all the other times, America knew his message went unheard and he proceed with a sigh.

Removing his arm from around Alfred, he lightly pressed the tips of his forefinger and middle finger to Alfred's eyelids and America allowed the dull ache in his heart and warmth in his eyes to travel down his arm to his fingertips. A ghost of a smile played on his lips as a muted gold and white glow surrounded the nation's body. The glow was gone as soon as it had come, causing the ache in America's chest and burning in his eyes to vanish, reviving the absence of emotion in him.

America rose from the floor and watched the small rise and fall of Alfred's diaphragm for a moment before spreading his wings as wide the small space of the bathroom would allow. With one powerful flap, he vanished upwards.

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"Hey, America," Canada called softly to America in a soft, diaphanous voice.

With a slight nod of his head at the group, America greeted his brother and the rest of the group of pure angels looking down a wide hole in the wispy clouds. "Canada, England, Lithuania, France, Russia, Japan, Italy, Germany."

Squeezing beside Canada, America looked down at the hole. With a top view, he looked just in time to see their wards crashing into the bathroom and surround Alfred.

Not moving his eyes, from the scene below him, America monotonously asked Canada, "How's Matthew doing?"

"Unfortunately, they're more similar than just looks."

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If you suffer from anorexia, depression, or any other type of disorder, please talk to a trustworthy adult.

It will affect you and those around you in unimaginable ways.

Keep Calm and Carry On

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And we're done! Yep, last chapter, you guys!

Man, I honestly was just going to keep this as a one-shot, but dudes! Eight chapters! I may not have been able to include everything I wanted, but still- sadkjfsdjkf

Thank you sooo much to everyone who took this time to read this story, and to everyone who took their time to review. Seriously, you guys are amazing and I will forever be thankful. This goes to the same for anybody who may read this after this has been completed.

And who could forget my wonderful Beta and good friend? She has been nothing but supportive and has helped motivate me. If you ever have a chance check out her amazing stories. Thank you, mi amiga! You are as awesome as Prussia~!

*salutes* Thank you all! Pastaaa~!