In all the time France had known his former colony, he never knew him to do anything that could get him maimed.

Well, unfortunately for both said nation and his former caretaker, the latter's worst fears were about to be confirmed.

France had been drinking wine in the living room when Canada came bursting out of the hallway, his face pale as death but his cheeks filled to the brim with blood. France immediately abandoned his wine when the other nation collapsed in front of him, his mouth opening and closing, but no sound he could understand would come forth.

"Matthieu, calm down!" urged a worried France. "What has happened?"

Canada tried to speak again, but the only thing that came out of his mouth were inaudible mumbles.

"Mr. Williams," came America's voice, and suddenly even France froze, because when America came out of the hallway, dressed in a muscle tee and cargo pants, his very presence appeared like they were encountering death. Following right behind her husband was (Y/N), and she too looked threatening, added by the fact that she was holding a pan in her hands.

Canada began to back away, his hands up. "A-America, I-I can explain..."

"Explain?" repeated America, whose feral grin nearly took up half of his face. "How can you explain what I already know, my stupid brother?"

"Amerique!" cried a surprised France, who moved to stand in front of Canada. "Zhat is no way to speak to your brother--"

"Is it?" questioned America, and suddenly he looked ready to unleash Hell on France. "That's ironic, because you never stopped Canada whenever he spoke poorly about me, but then again, you and England always favored Canada over me."

France's breath hitched. "W-What are you saying? Angleterre and I did favor you--"

"There it is. You did favor me in the past, but nowadays, you prefer to talk behind my back like a child, not caring if I was within earshot. You and the other nations are clearly don't want to see the truth, so you sit on your lazy asses and talk about me like you know everything about me. Well, guess what Mr. Bonnefoy, you don't, and I'm glad that I was never your friend or family, because I would probably be exactly what you all are; spineless, short-sighted, and arrogant."

France started to shake, and his voice wouldn't work as he tried to deny America's words. He always cared about America, and sure he had been annoying, but he was still a child. Then France's heart stopped.

Had he really become blind all these years? If so, then that was coming back to bite him in the ass. Where had they gone wrong? What the hell happened?

"If you get the point, get out of my way," ordered America. "I still have to speak to my stupid-as-hell brother, who seems to think he has the right to do whatever he wants in my house."

France didn't fight back when America roughly pushed him aside, not caring if he hit his head or managed to make it back to the couch. Canada was still backing up, fear apparent on his face, but there was also the guilt.

America didn't pay attention to that.

"Now, how about we head to my office to have a chat?" he asked darkly. "I have a lot of things I want to say to you Mr. Williams." Then America turned to his wife, his face quickly shifting to one of love. "Darling, can you get dinner started while I have a chat with Mr. Williams?"

Clearly thankful for the distraction, (Y/N) nodded and headed to the kitchen, and she easily ignored the pleas of mercy from her brother-in-law as her husband dragged him to his office. Seconds later, he began yelling at him, sounding so angry that (Y/N) wouldn't be surprised if Canada would have some bruises or cuts on his form afterwards.