England's POV:
Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as America turned to me, his shirt lying next to him on the floor. His skin seemed to stretch painfully over his bones, as if he hadn't eaten for months. His chest, neck, and arms were covered in old scars and fresh cuts that were still an angry red color. I could see hints of what used to be words carved above his right ribs, but it was coated with so many scars that it wasn't legible. Deep cuts also lingered on his jutting hips. Canada looked at his older brother, his tear-stained face filled with shock.

"All of them, America," I said hoarsely, trying to hold in my tears and knowing there were still more. He grimaced before removing his pants, revealing more scars on his legs and crawling their way under his American flag boxers. In some places, it looked as if he had gouged out some of his flesh and when it healed, he cut over it. America looked down at the floor and refused to meet my gaze, tears brimming in his eyes. Swallowing, I wrapped my arms protectively around my son as I had in the hospital after Alaska's death. I tried to find my voice, wanting to say something, anything that would comfort the crying nation.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! P-please don't hate me!" America sobbed, burying his face in my shoulder. My eyes widened in shock. He expected me to hate him?! He should be the one hating me! I'd been such an idiot, falling for his fake happiness and 'I'm the Hero!' shenanigans. Tears pricked at my eyes and I choked back a sob.

"I don't hate you, America. I could never hate you...I should be the one apologising, not you," I said through gritted teeth. America looked up at me with his expression hardened and he pulled away, grabbing his shirt and pants and pulling them back on.

"Can't disagree with you there," he said, his voice suddenly cold and unforgiving. Canada hung back and looked down at his feet, tears streaming down his face. America's gaze softened slightly and he gave Canada a quick hug, whispering something in his ear. Canada smiled through his tears and nodded. America turned back to me and glared as he walked past me. I stared at him in shock as he left his room, closing the door behind him. How had he gone from crying and apologising to stone cold in a matter of seconds?!