"I know that it might not be what you're used to, but I did ask France for some help," Britain said with a forced smile, handing a caged-up Oliver a plate of cupcakes.

They were chocolate, with pink, blue, and purple tide-dye frosting.

Oliver didn't speak, but he did take them; he smelled them, and smiled a toothy grin.

"Not half bad," he replied, "for someone who can't cook."

"Well, it was the least that I could do," Britain answered, sitting on the ground and in front of the cage.

"Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?" Oliver joked.

"Because in my camp, prisoners being tortured is against the rules," Britain explained. "I'm nothing if not somewhat a gentleman on the battlefield to my prisoners. They get fed like normal people, and they will always be treated like humans above all status."

"Oh, well, then I'm honored to be your prisoner," Oliver answered regally.

Britain sighed without answering the other man, looking at the ground now.

"Something has been nagging at my head for quite a while now, and I never really had the chance to figure out what it was," he went on. "I guess I thought that it might involve you."

Oliver stopped in his tracks to look at Britain, the cupcake in his hand halfway up to his mouth.

"Me?" the strawberry blonde replied. "What on earth are you going on about?"

"Well, it's just...something about you seems...different from the others," Britain started to explain. "You're evil, but then again, you're not."

"And that confuses you?" Oliver smirked. "Boy, my counterpart really is dumb!"

"Hey, I take offense to that!" Britain replied, hurt.

"Oh, calm down," Oliver assured him. "I was just cracking a joke to loosen you up."

"I don't need loosening up," Britain said. "I'm fine."

"Mm-hmm," Oliver nodded sarcastically, taking a bite out of his cupcake now, "and I'm a king of England."

Britain just rolled his eyes, not wanting the sarcasm.

"You know, you've really have caused a lot of trouble this time," Britain stated. "Why couldn't you stay the dumb one while I was the smart one?"

"Because if I was dumb," Oliver started, "we wouldn't even be having this conversation, more or less fighting against each other in this War, and what fun would that be?"

"You do realize that none of this is "fun," right?" Britain questioned. "Kalda has been captured and is being held hostage in who knows where, and yet you act like this is a game."

Oliver went silent, looking through the cage bars in front of him instead of at Britain now.

"This wasn't the plan," he started slowly, but then he put his hands over his mouth.

"What was that?" Britain inquired, scooting closer to the cage.

"I'mf nof goingf toof sayf anyfing!" Oliver answered in a muffled voice, scooting away from Britain and into the back of the cage.

"If you know something, spit it out!" Britain demanded.

Oliver rapidly shook his head, tears already streaming down his face.

"I can'f!" came his muffled reply. "Luciano will kill me!"

Britain didn't care; if one of his enemies had information that he wanted, he had ways of getting it.

"Fine," Britain said simply, taking the plate of cupcakes out of the cage, "no more cupcakes for you until you speak."

Oliver looked up, then down, then left, and then right before he looked at Britain again.

He sighed, closing his neon blue eyes as he took his shaking hands off of his mouth.

"Promise me that you won't say one word to the others, no matter how valuable this information is and no matter how much they need to know?" he asked, looking at the blonde.

Britain hesitated; for once, he didn't know what to do in a situation like this.

He needed the information, but he didn't want to betray his friends' trust in him, especially the love that he was getting from France, now.

Britain could let go of the opportunity, leaving Oliver to keeping the information like he had been, but if the strawberry blonde's information had even a small chance of saving Kalda in it, Britain needed to know.

"It's a life or death situation," Oliver continued at the silence. "I know you have to think it over, but just be warned that if Luciano finds out that I told you, we are both dead."

"Why do you sound so upset?" Britain wondered in confusion. "If he finds out, only one of us would die, then."

"Ha!" Oliver scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at Britain. "I knew it! You don't care about me, you just care about yourself! I should have seen this coming from a mile away! Ever since the first World War, you've hated us! You even surrendered to save your own arse!"

"I will not take that tone or language," Britain answered firmly.

"But it's true!" Oliver accused, beginning to cry again. "You don't care about me! You never have! You just want this information so that you can save Kalda on your own and have me die!"

Britain went silent; as much as he hated to admit it, that was his plan.

"See?" Oliver said in a choked up voice, getting into the fetal position. "I knew it."

Britain sighed, trying to figure out a way to make this right.

"You just want to use me," Oliver continued quietly. "Why would you do that just to save Kalda and everyone else by tossing me aside?"

"Because I want our pain to end," Britain answered, his voice soft. "I don't want to have to worry about us, anymore. Do you want to live with the pain? Or do you want to live with the happiness that Luciano will never touch you again?"

Oliver didn't reply; he just sat there in silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Vhy is mein door kicked down?" Germany wondered, walking into his house with Japan and Veneziano.

"Vest?" Prussia asked, walking into view with Kalda by his side.

"West!" Veneziano instinctively yelled, running up to Kalda and scooping her up in a hug.

"North!" Kalda cried, returning the hug.

"Zhere's...two Vests?" Prussia questioned in confusion.

"You'll get used to it," Germany chuckled.

"Where's zhe ozher one?" Japan asked, looking at Kalda.

"Down in the basement," Kalda replied, pointing to the open door.

"You vill pay for vhat you have done!" Lutz yelled from the basement.

"He's been yelling like zhat for quite a vhile now," Prussia explained in annoyance.

"Where's the other three?" Kalda inquired.

"Back at your camp," Japan replied. "Oliver is caged up, and zhe ozher two have been split up."

"Probably so that they don't converse with each other," Kalda reasoned. "The Allies are smart, I'll give them that."

"Perhaps ve could make a trade," Germany told them. "Lutz for zhe ozher zhree, und Kalda for zhe Allies."

"You're...still at War with them, Mister Germany?" Kalda asked quietly. "After you helped them and everything?"

"Ja, Kalda," Germany softly replied. "Ve could really use your help, as vell. Now zhat ve finally have you as ve alone have planned, you could be a very powerful ally."

Kalda hardened, knowing exactly what he meant.

"No," she said in an angry, choked up voice, "no! I'm not going to use my dreams as your weapon!"

With that, she ran up the stairs and into her brother's room, slamming the door shut; she snuggled into his blankets on the bed, falling in love with the smell of his mint-scented cologne.

"Vhy did you say zhat?" Prussia asked angrily. "Don't you know how touchy she is on zhe subject?"

"I'll go and talk to her," Veneziano stated calmly as he started walking, but Germany stopped him.

"No, I vill," Germany sighed. "I said it, so I should go apologize."

"Ja, you should," Prussia replied.

Germany nodded as he ignored his brother's snarky comment, walking up to Veneziano's room; he tried to use the doorknob, seeing that the door was locked.

"Go away!" Kalda yelled. "I don't want to talk to you!"

"I came to apologize," Germany answered, sliding down the door and sitting in front of it. "Can I please come in?"

There was silence, and so Germany thought that Kalda had already declined that idea.

"No," Kalda said on her side of the door.

She wasn't in the bed anymore, sitting in front of the door herself; Germany nodded even though she couldn't see it.

"I see," he said. "Vell, I just vanted to say zhat I am sorry for zhe reaction zhat I made you have from mein vords. I didn't mean it like zhat."

"You know what you did," Kalda spat. "Whether you meant it that way or not is besides the point. You still said it, and I'm still upset."

"Kalda-"

"I don't want to hear it!"

Germany knew that he needed a different plan; he had to remind himself that Kalda was different from Veneziano, and even Romano and Seborga, when they were upset.

Apologizing like zhis may not work on her like it does vith zhe ozher zhree Italians, Germany thought to himself.

Veneziano made his appearance, seeing the small change in progress; he silently signaled for Germany to leave, and the German nodded as he stood up.

He walked down the stairs, leaving Veneziano to sit in front of the door now.

"Kaldy?" Venenziano called quietly.

"Why did he say those things?" Kalda asked in a choked up voice. "Doesn't he know how I feel about my dreams? I'm already a freak. I don't need him to tell me that or make me fight in this War because of it."

"He didn't mean it that way, Kaldy," Veneziano calmly assured her. "Germany would never hurt someone on purpose unless it was me."

Kalda gasped a little, looking at the door as if she could see her brother through a window.

"He hurts you on purpose?" she wondered, her voice quiet.

"Sometimes," Veneziano grinned, ignoring the fact that she couldn't see his smile. "He even calls me weird German words like "Dumkompf" and stuff."

Kalda laughed a little, sniffling.

"But other times, he hugs me when I'm sad," Veneziano went on. "He also gives me piggy back rides sometimes after training."

"Do you think that if I asked him for a piggy back ride, he'll give me one?" Kalda asked, feeling awkward for even suggesting it.

"Maybe," Veneziano replied, "but you'll have to open up the door first."

Kalda took in a deep breath; she stood up and opened up the door, seeing her brother tumble into the room.

Kalda laughed, helping him stand up.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were in front of the door?" she grinned.

"Guess I'm just an idiot," Veneziano laughed back.

"But you're my idiot," Kalda said, hugging him, "and that's all that matters."

"I, uh," Germany started, clearing his throat, "I hope zhat you can forgive me, Kalda."

Kalda just gave him a hug, and Germany knew at that moment that her actions spoke louder than her words.

They pulled away, feeling a little awkward.

"I'll do it," Kalda nodded, "if you really want me to."

"I'm not going to force you, but ve really could use your help," Germany replied. "Zhis decision is yours alone, Kalda."

Kalda thought about it, looking at her brother to see him shrug in confusion; Kalda then looked back at Germany, stiffening.

"I'll do it, but under one condition," Kalda bargained.

"Anyzhing," Germany agreed.

"I don't use my dreams or connections to fight," Kalda stated. "I'm a human, not a weapon."

Germany shook hands with her, respecting her words.

He pulled out an Iron Cross necklace like his and Prussia's out of his pocket, handing it to her.

"Even after zhe Var is over und you choose to go back vith zhe Allies," Germany started, "I vant you to have one."

Kalda carefully put the necklace around her neck, smiling; she hugged the man again, thanking him.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I'll wear it forever."

"I know," Germany whispered back.

"We should probably get you some new clothes," Veneziano told his sister. "You can wear something of Germany's, if you want."

"Seems like I'm all over the place," Kalda laughed. "First Italy, then Britain, and now Germany."

"I zhink zhat I have somezhing zhat you can vear," Germany nodded. "Follow me."

The siblings did so, and Kalda held onto the Iron Cross charm on the necklace.

Please guide my heart, Lord, she prayed. I don't want myself or my friends to die. Not here, not now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What are we going to do with you?" Britain asked, looking at Luciano.

"You've separated the three of us so that we can't talk," Luciano snapped. "What else do you want?"

"I want Kalda back, that's what I want!" Britain replied.

"Calm down," France told the other blonde. "Nozhing will get settled over yelling."

"You want Kalda back?" Luciano laughed. "I want Kalda back. We want the same thing, just different versions of it."

"Kalda is not thing," Russia glared back. "Kalda is human."

"Same difference," Luciano dismissed.

"I'd listen to him this time, boys," Oliver smirked, cocking a pistol. "It's game over."

"How did he get out?" China asked, shocked.

"I have my secrets, now step away from the Italian," Oliver replied.

"Oliver, you lying, thieving, stupid, idiotic, psychotic, cannibalistic, untrustworthy, double-crossing-" Britain started, but cut off.

"I'm everything but double-crossing, actually," Oliver admitted, still smirking. "What, you really thought that I was going to join the Allies? Seriously? How gullible are you, Arthur?"

Britain growled, grabbing out a knife that he had in his belt.

With a battle cry, he ran up to his counterpart.

"You will pay for this!" Britain yelled, slicing Oliver's wrist.

Oliver gave out a pained scream, his neon blue eyes widening in shock.

"What have you done?" Oliver asked in fury. "You're going to regret this!"

Britain backed up, letting Russia and China take the Second Player back to his cage.

Britain walked out of the tent to follow them, wanting to have a word with the strawberry blonde.

"I'm sorry," Britain apologized as he hugged Oliver. "I didn't mean to take it that fa-"

He cut off and looked at the strawberry blonde, seeing a dark look in his neon blue eyes as he felt pain in his back.

"You-you stabbed me?" Britain coughed, falling to the ground.

"I can't let the truth get out," Oliver replied with an evil grin, "and since I have you out of my way, now, I live for a week without you around to mess things up."

Britain closed his eyes, feeling the pain surge through him.

"You're a traitor," he gasped. "I want you to know that."

"Actually," Oliver replied, "I think that you are the traitor."

All light faded into darkness, and Britain felt nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Britain gasped as he woke up, seeing that he was still sitting in front of the cage that held Oliver inside it.

The man had finished his cupcakes, and Britain wondered if he had dozed off or not.

"Was that a-" he started, but Oliver cut him off.

"You saw it?" was all he asked.

Britain nodded, not wanting to speak.

"Good," Oliver nodded back. "Chances are, Kalda did too."

Britain widened his eyes, shocked by Oliver's words.

"You have been the one giving her the dreams?" he asked, anger beginning to swell up inside him.

"I prefer to call them visions," Oliver specified, "but yes. I have been, and I still am. I even connected you two, once."

Britain became confused.

"How?" he wondered. "And when?"

"Well, you remember that one night you got drunk because you remembered Maria at that party you took her to, right?" Oliver asked.

"You mean the night before the day that Kalda came to work for me, she made me tea, and France proposed to me on the same day?" Britain flatly clarified. "Yes, why?"

"Well," Oliver started, licking some frosting off of his lips, "Kalda had that same dream that night, just from a different perspective."

"What do you mean?" Britain inquired.

"Stop with the questions," Oliver sighed in annoyance. "All will be revealed if you just sit here and listen to me."

"Okay, then," Britain snapped back.

"Her perspective was that you and Maria were talking to each other without her knowing," Oliver went on. "Your perspective was just as if you and Maria were right there doing that same scene all over again."

"Why didn't she say anything?" Britain asked himself, feeling stupid for yelling at her that day.

"The actual question is, why didn't you say anything to her?" Oliver rephrased.

"Because I didn't think that she would want to hear a sob story from my love life!" Britain replied. "Like anyone would want to hear that!"

"Well, and then the whole...party thing was actually an...accident," Oliver admitted awkwardly.

Britain just raised a brow in question, an unamused look on his face.

"I didn't mean to give her that big of a scare, honest I swear, and I actually didn't mean to make you get drunk because of Switzerland either, so...I guess that I have a lot to answer for, as well," Oliver explained.

"Yes, you do," Britain told him. "And so then what happened in your own world? Why did you lick her blood and throw a knife at her?"

"The knife was a reflex," Oliver stated defensively. "I already apologized to her for that, by the way. I'm trying to break that reflex, and what cannibalistic psychopath doesn't like the taste of human blood every once in a while?"

Britain rolled his eyes in annoyance at the last part of Oliver's explanation.

"So what you're saying is, you can connect all three of us?" he asked.

"Yes," Oliver nodded. "I showed Kalda all of the things about Maria to show her where she comes from. She's our child, Arthur. We have to get her back, and I have a plan."

"She's not our child, dimwit," Britain snapped. "Anyway, so then why did you show me the "vision" about you breaking out and killing me?"

"Oh, that was just a test to see if the connection still worked with you," Oliver answered. "It's been a while since our last connection together."

"Would you...would you like a hug?" Britain asked awkwardly.

"Well, I'm not going to force it upon ourselves, but...okay," Oliver smiled.

"You're not going to kill me, are you?" Britain replied, leaning in.

"Of course not," Oliver chuckled, hugging his counterpart.

The two of them pulled away, and Britain smiled.

"You're...actually not half bad," he laughed, making a joke.

"I told you that could trust me," Oliver said softly, still smiling, "and the joke was to die for."

"Not necessarily," Britain replied. "Anyway, thanks for the information. I'll make sure that Luciano never finds out."

Oliver nodded, feeling safe for once; Britain stood up to leave, looking over his shoulder to say one last thing.

"Oh, and Oliver," he started, "I love you."

With that, Britain ran off before anyone could see him partake in Oliver's reaction.

"What?" Oliver laughed with pure joy, rattling the cage bars. "You love me?"

He laughed again, a cackle almost.

"Arthur loves me!" he shouted in happiness. "Arthur truly loves me! I love you, too, Arthur my boy! I love you, too!"

Oliver continued laughing, happy and finally at peace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where are we going, Prussia?" Kalda asked, feeling awkward now that it was just the two of them.

"Don't call me zhat," Prussia told her. "I'm a human just as much as you for our disguise. I'm General Gilbert Beilschmidt, and you're...ugh, I don't even know vhat to name you."

"I've always loved the boy name 'Max,'" Kalda replied with a small smile. "I'm thinking of naming one of my future kids that someday."

"Not very Prussian or German, but I'll take it," Prussia nodded. "Anyvay, ve're going to a Camp. Zhat's vhere zhey vanted to send me, but I'm regretting mein decision of agreeing to zhat."

"Why?" Kalda asked. "The Camps can't be that bad...can they?"

"Innocent people die in zhere, Kalda," Prussia answered. "Um, I mean, Max. Look, just stay vith me, und I'll show you."

"Vati, please don't go!" a boy cried, getting held back by a Nazi soldier. "I don't vant you to die!"

Kalda stopped walking to see what was going on, and it brought back a memory of where she tried saving a Russian boy from getting hurt on her date with Russia.

"He vill die for zhe noble cause of Hitler!" a soldier told the boy. "Now leave us alone vhile ve do our vork! Go back to your mutti!"

The boy cried as he ran into the house, slamming the door shut as the other soldier dragged the father away.

"Come on, Max," Prussia told her. "Zhat's not meant for bystanders to vatch."

Kalda just nodded, following Prussia down the dirt road; she gasped as she looked around her.

Kalda noticed that the landscape went from urban to rural in just a matter of seconds, the sky becoming dark and eerie.

She clung onto Prussia's arm for comfort, hoping that whatever was inside the building was better than the landscape.

"See, I told you," Prussia answered softly. "Zhere's vhere zhe prisoners stay, zhat's vhere zhey vork, zhat's vhere zhey go to get executed, und zhat's vhere zhe dead bodies are burned."

Kalda saw that he was right, and she couldn't even imagine living in the Camp only to work, and then die.

She saw smoke coming out of a big building in the distance, and she supposed that some bodies were already being burned.

"Who died?" Kalda wondered.

"Zhe elderly," Prussia sadly explained, closing his red eyes. "Zhose who are too old to vork anymore, die."

Kalda nodded, understanding his words.

"Kuro said that he wanted to send me here as a punishment for tricking them, but I'm happy that Luciano denied that, now," she shuddered, remembering the conversation. "I wouldn't want to come here at all."

"I know zhat zhis vasn't necessarily your own decision, but zhere's no turning back now," Prussia empathized softly. "Follow me, zhe vorst is yet to come."

Kalda nodded, following Prussia inside the building while still clinging onto his arm.