Hello, everyone! This is one of my newer stories, so it's probably not going to be amazing. I do NOT own Hetalia (If I did, the 2p's would show up and GerIta would be canon), and this is rated T for some mild gore (A little bit of blood).

This fanfiction is based off of real events.

In Ottowa, very unfortunately, there was a shooting in which one person was injured (Not very manyy xD but still sad and enough to inspire this fic). So, I'm making it so Canada gets shot. There are more real events in later chapters.

Chapter 1: The World Meeting, Minus One

"Ugh, I'm bored~!" America whined, kicking his feet up on the table, hoping to attract attention. To his surprise, Britain did not hit him upside the head or tell him to act like an adult. Because of the American's oblivious nature, he didn't notice something grim hung in the air.

Germany was talking quietly with Italy, and Russia wasn't bludgeoning anyone with his pipe. He was even sitting next to Lithuania and not making his former maid scared.

"Uh, guys?" America tapped his boot on the table.

England shot his younger brother a glance; Alfred could detect a mixture of pity,
guilt, and sadness.

"Iggy, what's wrong?"

There was no response from the Brit. Nor the Frenchman, or the Russian, Italian,
German, Japanese, Chinese, Latvian, Estonian, or anyone else, for that matter.
Suddenly, France moved his chair to an empty space next to England's seat and whispered something into his ear.

America sniggered. "Probably another pervy joke. Iggy's face is going to be hilarious!" He thought to himself and smirked.

Except, instead of repulsing, Arthur let himself fall forward a little bit into France's arms.

"We need to tell him," France said in a soft tone, so softly America couldn't hear it.

"I know..." England whispered, voice cracking. "It would be hard for me... He was my son."

"He was my little brother, mon cherie."

"Uh, dudes, what's going on here?" America asked, removing his feet from the top of the table and leaning inwards attentively.

"C-cana-" Britain's voice cracked and the rest of his sentence was drowned out by tears threatening to spill. He tried to choke out the rest of the words, but his throat was getting tighter.

"Angleterre, it's okay. I'll tell him." France looked like he was faring no better than the Brit, if not worse. His eyes had grown puffy and his nose was the slightest bit red.

"Spill the beans." America was a bit nervous of what was about to come. He scanned everyone's anxious faces, searching for any hints.

"America..." France started. "Canada... has been shot." His words lingered in the air.

America felt a knot in his throat. He didn't say anything at first. "W-where...
Where is my brother?" He spoke quietly, eyes focused on the ground.

"Ottawa Brook Hospital." No sooner than those words were spoken, America had stood up and was already running for the door, slapping on a coat and a black hat in the process.

Italy blinked a few times, looking at Germany. "Doitsu, let's go."

"Okay, Italy." Germany guided his ally and partner out the door. Soon, everyone was gone except for Britain, Russia (He was sleeping in a corner) and France.

"Should we have stopped him?" The proud Englishman rubbed his eyes.

"Non, he needs to see his brother. It will do them both good." France looked up. "I wonder what kind of soul would have the heart to do this to a person like Canada."

Arthur smiled faintly. "If I where them, I'd fear for my life. There's nothing that could stop America once he gets angry with someone."

"True." France agreed.

"Huhuhu, I knew you two loved each other." A thick Russian accent drifted across the room.

"Russia! I thought you were asleep!" England shouted. France could practically see the hair on the back of the other's neck standing on end.

Ivan waved it off. "I was, but I woke up in time to see you two being compassionate about each other for once, instead of having one of your little lover's spats."
There was nothing but silence as the Russian walked out the door.