Dixie made a split-second decision and threw himself in front of America.

Two bullets tore through his chest and another through his arm, giving him a brief reminder of General Jackson. He stumbled backward and bumped into America, who was as still as a statue.

It took a couple of seconds for Dixie to register what had just happened. He looked up to see who had fired, but there was no one. The only thing that was out of place was a single pistol laying on the ground and the feeling of someone watching him. It made his skin crawl. But then it was gone.

"America." Dixie said, turning around. "America are you ok? "

"W-what?" America flinched. " I-I think so-"

A glassy look had come over America's eyes.

"America?" Dixie grabbed his brother's shoulder and yelped in pain. America seemed to snap out of it, his attention was drawn to Dixie's arm, where a large hole was. It was oozing black blood. Dixie retracted his arm and put a hand over the wound.

"Did ya see who fired?" Dixie's voice was clearer now.

"No. I just heard gunshots and I -" America stopped. "I froze up."

Dixon's attention was taken off of the country as Delaware burst through the door, followed by the whole household.

"What happened!"

"We heard gunshots!"

"Papa?!"

The States swarmed America and he seemed to get a hold on himself.

"I'm alright I promise." America's voice was more confident than he felt. "You should really ask Dixie. He took the bullets for me."

All of the states' heads seemed to turn simultaneously towards Dixie, who was trying not to drip blood on the carpet. Seeing that all the attention was on him now, he gave an awkward nod and said, "I'm ok."

Seeming satisfied with Dixie's answer the states began to bombard America with questions.

"Who shot at you?" Louisiana's voice rang clear.

"How did they get in?" Michigan poked his head through the crowd.

"What happened?" Hawaii said, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him with her big ocean eyes.

"We don't know." America swallowed. "We were talking and then someone shot at us."

Dixie finished wrapping a napkin around his arm and walked over to where the pistol lay. He picked it up. "Maybe we ain't talking about someone. Maybe it's something."

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"I froze up."

"Ya did." Dixie grunted. "But when was the last time ya had a gunfight?"

The two were sitting on the couch, using the metal tray that Dixie had brought him a sandwich on as a carrier for medical supplies. A bloody napkin held two of the three bullets, and America was in the process of removing the third from the battle flags arm.

"That doesn't matter." America adjusted his rubber gloves and pulled Dixie's arm towards him to get a better angle. "I froze up. That's not supposed to happen."

"WelL-" Dixie let out a yip. "Careful pleasE-"

America dug the scalpel deeper into his arm. "Soon I'm gonna be sitting in the old-timer home telling stories about my glory days. And the only way people will remember me is through a dusty old textbook."

"AmEricA-" Dixie whined through his teeth. "Be caRefUl-"

America sighed and popped the bullet out. "You're such a baby."

Dixie gave him a look of bewilderment as the country picked up the tray and headed towards his bathroom.

"America." Dixie said again. "Calm down."

"Said easier than done." America mumbled. He yanked off the plastic gloves and placed the black-blood soaked napkins and bullets into the trash. He grabbed some gauze and bandages, avoiding Dixie's gaze. "Everything's been getting better lately. But things just keep-"

He paused and Dixie shot him a sideways glance across the room. "Things are wha- outta your control? You can't be perfect all the time ya know."

"But that's my job. I gotta be perfect. And when I'm not..."

Dixie frowned as America drifted off. "Stop tryin' ta be perfect. Things and people change. So will you."

America sat down next to Dixie and began to wrap up his arm in silence. The battle flag took it as a sign to shut up. The country handed the rest of the bandages over to Dixie and he began to tend to his chest.

"Pop?"

Texas was standing with a glass of water and a towel over his shoulder, with Hawaii clinging to his leg and a couple of other states behind him.

"Hey." America smiled and patted the space next to him.

Hawaii detached from Texas' leg and flew over, hoping upon his knee. Texas came over with Mississippi and Georgia trailing close behind. Texas handed Dixie a glass of water, and he grunted thanks.

"Are ya doin' ok?" Georgia asked, sitting down on the arm of the couch as Texas and Mississippi squeezed in next to their dad.

"Ya." America said as Dixie gulped down the water. "Just this whole thing is weird. First Dixie comes back, then he passes out and has this weird vision thing-"

"Wait," Mississippi interrupted. "what weird vision thing?"

America felt a wave of guilt. "When Dixie passed out yesterday, he didn't really just pass out. He had a dream of some sort."

"Oh ya." there was a bit of edge to Mississippi's voice. "And what was in this dream?"

America made eye contact with Dixie before proceeding. "Stars and Bloodstained."

Whatever America was expecting - shouting, accusing, more arguing- didn't happen. Mississippi looked surprised. And then a bit guilty.

"Oh. I can see why you didn't tell us."

Texas and Georgia looked surprised as well.

Texas cleared his throat. "Were you... ever gunna tell us?"

"I didn't get a chance to think about it." America slouched back in the couch. "Probably. At least the southern states."

"So what we at?" Georgia said. "Are they back or somethin'?"

"No." Dixie spoke. "This thing turned into them. It started out 's Stars but then it changed into Bloodstained. Whoever or whatever this thing is it's somethin' else."

"So you think whatever was in your dream might've been the same thing that tried to shoot Dad?"

"Ya." Dixie bit his lip. "Ya that could be it."

"Alrighty." Mississippi said. "Go team."

"Hey Texas?" America cleared his throat .

"Em?"

"Can you get everyone in the Media room? I want to talk to them."

Texas nodded and stood up. "I'll round 'em up pop." He walked out of the room with Georgia and his tail and Mississippi lagging behind.

America sighed again and closed his eyes. He felt Dixie settle into the couch next to him.

"I'm gonna go talk to them now. And I'm gonna tell them everything. No more secrets."

"Alright." Dixie sounded sleepy. "Good goal that is. No secrets..."

"You should go rest." America peaked an eye open.

"Hmkay." Dixie pushed himself up. "Good luck with the states."

America forced out a laugh. "I'm gonna need all the luck I can get."

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America peaked over his hand full of cards. "Do you have a three?"

"Nope." Alaska narrowed his eyes. "Go fish."

The two were in front of the open kitchen hatch, the windows to the right of them showering the room in sunlight. It was around three now, Dixie was downstairs resting and the states were watching a movie in the media room. A couple were out doing their own things- Cali was in her room, Delaware, Kentucky, Maine, and Maryland were playing Sorry. Alaska had been basking in a patch of sunshine outside when America poked his head out a window and asked to talk to the state.

"And it isn't a ghost you're dealing with." Alaska watched America take a card from the pile. "They can't touch it move objects. You usually can't feel their presence either. They like to mind their own business, despite popular belief. You got an eight?"

All of the states had something about them that was different than the others. Florida couldn't feel pain, Texas had super strength, stuff like that. Alaska was probably the most interesting of them all. He could see and communicate with ghosts.

Alaska accepted America's eight of hearts and added it to his ever increasing stack of pairs. He cleared his throat and asked, "What did it feel like?"

America adjusted his position on the stool. "It felt cold. Like someone was in there. Just watching. I don't know how to explain it. Got a seven?"

"Well who ever it is isn't happy." Alaska frowned. "Especially if they tried to shot you. Why would they do that anyways? Bullets can't kill us. And go fish."

"Just to scare me. Most likely."

"Did it work?" Alaska tilted his head. "Gotta two?"

Even America was surprised by his answer. "No. To both of those actually. Go fish."

The day continued as a day should. The sun continued its lazy journey through the sky. Soon the pale blue turned a reddish-purple, but something still felt off, and it wasn't Alaska winning Go Fish. Who- or what- had tried to scare him?

At around six Dixie padded up the stairs, pulling on one of America's shirts. That reminded him- he needed to look for that spare bed and possibly a dresser for the battle flag.

America looked up from his phone and saw Dixie head straight into the kitchen. Curious to see what he was doing, the country got up and followed him.

Dixie was perched on the counter flipping through a recipe book.

"Whachya doin?" America asked, hopping up next to him on the counter.

"Tryin' to decide what to make for dinner." Dixie didn't look up and continued to look through the pages. "Wanna chicken meal or something else? I could try soup but California would probably hate me more than she already does."

America smiled. "You like to cook, don't you?"

"Ya I guess." Dixie shrugged. "It's something ta do."

"Well I'll leave you to it." America scooted off the counter.

"America?"

He looked back to see that Dixie had looked up from his recipe searching. "We are gunna figure this out. And no more secrets. From the states or from each other."

America walked out of the kitchen with that echoing in his head. And no more secrets. Was that's how all bad things started? Through secrets, through misunderstandings? It's not like he didn't trust the states, even with everything that was happening. Some were handling things better than others. But did he keep a lot of secrets? Not what he would consider secrets. Dixie used to know his thoughts and intentions, but Dixie was free of him and vis versa.

His head was heavy with a sickening realization. He could lie now. No one would know, even with Dixie's and his mind link. America dismissed these thoughts and felt disgusted with himself.

America let out a frustrated sigh and slowed his pace. Where was he even going? He put a hand to his temple and thought about going back to talk to Dixie. But something caught his attention. Something stirred in the shadow of the doorway.

An awful, horrible feeling came. It felt cold and wrong, like everything good was just... gone. America took a step back, trying to focus on what was coming out of the shadows.

Bloodstained emerged, the light illuminated the crooked sneer on his face.