(Disclaimer: APH is not mine.)
England was late. He had told America and Canada that he would be back today by mid-morning, and to make sure that they were in the house, with their furry friends outside where they belonged. Fearing the wrath of their older brother, the two boys had complied, reluctantly sending various rabbits, raccoons, and birds out of the house, cleaned up, and were now sitting in a completely quiet, calm, and spotless house.
"He's late," America said for what must have been the hundredth time.
"I know. I'm sure it's nothing serious," Canada told him for what must have been the hundredth and first time.
"I'm so bored though, Canada. And there's nothing to do in the house and we're not allowed to leave until we make sure he's settled in," America whined, lying down on the floor in what he felt was the perfect picture of boredom.
"I know, America. Just, suck it up, please?" Canada let out a sigh, absent mindedly patting Kumajirou on his head.
The boys sat in silence for a few moments more until America sat up suddenly. "Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Shh, listen." Sure enough, when Canada listened, he heard the unmistakable sounds of shouting coming from outside the house. He looked at his brother in confusion, and both ran to the window, somewhat surprised at what they saw.
"What's Spain doing here?" America asked Canada, confused. "And who are those two people with him?" He paused, a horrible thought coming to mind. "You don't think he managed to defeat England and now we're his Colonies do you?"
Canada shook his head but said nothing, not sure how he could convince his brother that everything was fine when he wasn't so sure himself. It was then that he noticed the blond-haired figure following behind Spain and the other two Nations, one of whom was doing all the shouting, and smiled.
"Look, America, there's France. He'll explain what's going on." America nodded, but as the two boys were about to take a step back from the window when the smallest of the four Nations outside saw the brothers, beamed with the largest grin that either of the two boys had ever seen, and waved energetically. Surprised, America and Canada weakly waved back before moving from the window and to the door.
"Bonjour, mes fils," France said in greeting a few moments later.
"Tes fils? Your sons?" Canada asked, translating his question into English for the benefit of America whose French was a bit lacking.
"Oui. You consider England to be your father, yes? And I have helped to raise both of you, so I would be considered your father as well, non?" His grin was telling the Colonies to say yes, but neither boy was sure what to say.
"Well," Canada started, but America quickly interrupted. "We thought you were brothers, but I guess you both can also be considered father figures if you want to be? England won't like you being included, though. He doesn't like you very much…at all."
"Well, England isn't here right now, is he?" France responded, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Um, où est angleterre?" Canada asked timidly, worried for his older brother-turned-father. America seemed to get the gist of the question, and both Colonies looked at France in nervous anticipation.
"Oh, don't worry, he is perfectly safe. It seems his ships ran into a bit of trouble and he's a little, how do you say, tied up?" Somehow, Canada and America got the impression that France's statement was to be taken more literally than metaphorically. "But, don't fret, he will be here later. I just felt it was time for you to meet votre oncles. They've been dying--well, two of them have, anyway—to meet you and have some bonding time together before England whisks you two even further away from moi." France continued, before standing to the side and gesturing to the teenagers next to him.
"Meet your Uncle Spain," He pointed to the green-eyed Nation that America vaguely recalled meeting once long ago. "Your Uncle Veneziano." Next was the youngest of the three and the one who had waved so energetically before. "And your Uncle Romano." This was the one who had been shouting and was still giving protests at being there. Nodding to himself that his work was done, France took a step towards the door. "Now, please excuse me. I'm going to go see if England needs any, ah, help with his predicament," he said with a lecherous grin before leaving the house.
The two surprised Colonies stared at the three Nations, and the three Nations stared back. No one said anything, but the nervous tension in the room was slowly but surely rising.
It was Veneziano who finally broke the silence.
"Does anyone want some pasta?" America and Canada nodded, not entirely sure what it was he was talking about, but, considering Romano's happy reaction about how hungry he was, it appeared to be some kind of food. Chances were it was probably edible too, seeing as England would not be the one cooking.
"Wonderful! Where's the kitchen?" Spain asked, interrupting their thoughts, and the Colonies led the way to the kitchen, silently wondering what would happen next.
Once the group reached the kitchen, Spain took Veneziano's pasta making supplies and told the young Nations to sit at the table and get to know each other. America and Canada sat on one side of the table, Veneziano and Romano on the other, and the four just stared at each other for a while. Spain would turn around occasionally from the sauce he was making, say "So cute," and then turn back, but not one word was said at the table.
Finally, America worked up the courage to break the silence. "So, um, do you normally carry around food?"
Veneziano grinned at America and nodded. "Ve~ Of course! Who knows when you'll be stuck somewhere without pasta? It would be horrible! Isn't it horrible when you're out of pasta, brother?" He turned to Romano who ignored him. The Colonies exchanged looks that agreed Veneziano was probably a little crazy.
"So, are you two twins?" Romano asked suddenly, causing Spain to turn around and shoot him a smile for trying.
Again, the Colonies looked at each other before shrugging. "We don't know," America answered. "We have the same face but we really don't know. Are you three really related to France? You don't look alike…at all." This caused the two Italies to look at each other, that fact not having dawned on them before.
It was Spain who answered with a laugh as he placed a plate of pasta in front of each of the young Nations. "He's like our brother…our special brother. And, really, who's to say how Nations are related, anyway?"
He took a seat in between the two pairs of brothers and smiled, pleased at how Veneziano and Romano had started right in at the pasta. The smile faded, however, when he noticed that America and Canada were picking at their plate. "Is something wrong?"
America picked up a noodle, giving it an odd look. "What is it? They look like worms."
Canada looked like he was trying to suppress a laugh as he hit America in the arm. "America, just try it. It can't be worse than escargot…or England's cooking," He muttered, both of them shuddering at the cooking attempts of their 'fathers.'
"Seriously, they both need to learn how to cook normal foods," America said in response before shoving a bite of pasta in his mouth at the same time as Canada.
Spain smiled at their brotherly banter, giving another "So cute," as he watched them eat their first bite of pasta.
"It's called pasta, America. The noodles are made from dough that consists of flour, water, and eggs, and is boiled until it's soft. It's typically served with a type of sauce, and since he's in such a bad mood, I made Romano's favorite sauce so hopefully he'll start acting cute again." A muffled sound that sounded oddly like, "Shut up bastard," came from the older Italian who currently had a mouthful of pasta.
"Romano, don't talk with your mouth full, that's not cute at all! And watch your language around the kids," Spain chided, but was met with a sound of dismissal. "So not cute," He muttered into his own pasta.
"What do you think about it, Canada?" America asked quietly, gesturing towards the food in front of them.
"It's, uh, not bad," Canada said after another bite. "It's nothing like what France and England make though." America nodded in agreement as he took another bite.
The five Nations ate in a comfortable silence, and America and Canada were the first to finish, even though there was still pasta left on their plate. "Thank you for making supper, Spain," they said in unison, smiling at the green eyed nation.
"It was no problem! Did you—" Spain was cut off when Veneziano exclaimed, "Ve~ Are you two done?"
The startled colonies nodded slowly, startled, and the younger Italy continued, "You still have pasta left! Aren't you going to finish it?"
Had it been England, or even France, America and Canada would have said no. But the look Veneziano was shooting them, one that looked almost hurt, made them feel guilty and they quickly pulled the plates back. "O-of course," America said, putting another bite of the quickly cooling pasta in his mouth. "We were just taking a break so that, uh, so that…" He trailed off, for once unable to come up with a decent excuse.
"So that we could truly appreciate the flavor!" Canada chimed in quickly, grabbing another forkful. That seemed to placate the two Italians, and when all the pasta was gone, the Colonies quickly grabbed the plates off the table, leaving the other Nations alone.
"I'm so full, Canada," America whined quietly when they were just out of earshot. "I really hope they don't cook again, I don't know if I can eat another bite." Canada nodded in agreement, and when they returned to the table after cleaning off the dishes, the three older Nations stood, Spain and Veneziano grinning brightly.
"Let's go for a walk~" Veneziano said, grabbing the Colonies' hands and pulling them out the door before they could protest.
--
Somehow, Veneziano and Spain had managed to arrange it so that the whole group was holding hands. Canada was on one end, one hand holding Kumajirou, the other held by Veneziano. On Veneziano's other side was America, who also held hands with Spain, and Romano was at the end of the line. The latter had vehemently argued against handholding, but had reluctantly given in when he found himself being left behind in the foreign woods.
"Isn't it lovely outside?" Spain asked a few minutes into their walk, not noticing that one of the Italian brothers was looking positively murderous, and that the North Americans were still feeling uncomfortable around them.
"It is quite lovely," Canada agreed finally. "Do you have woods like this at your house?" Spain laughed gently and seemed about ready to answer the boy's question, but a surprised shout from Veneziano grabbed their attention.
"Ve! That thing just jumped out at me!" Veneziano cried, letting go of Canada's hand to point at a surprised woodland creature. He pulled away from the creature, dissolving into tears from fright.
"It's ok, uh, Veneziano. It won't hurt you, in fact, you probably scare it more than it scares you," America told the crying Italian, awkwardly patting the young teen's arm in what he hoped was a comforting manner.
"Really? Ve~ Oh no! I don't want to scare it! I'm sorry~!" The Italian wailed even louder, trying to apologize to the frightened animal that Canada was now petting and trying to soothe.
The wailing was put to an end quickly, however, when Romano hit Veneziano upside the head. "Shut up! Your yelling is going to scare it even more!" He yelled, not caring about the volume of his own voice.
By this time, America and Spain had wondered over to Canada and the animal. The subdued Italians, suddenly noticing that they were alone, joined them.
"It's cute," Spain said, reaching out a hand to pet it. The furry creature looked up at Canada, looking almost concerned, but when the boy smiled, the animal let the Nation pet it. "What is it?"
"Woodchuck," The boys said in unison, reaching out to pet the woodchuck as well. Just then, a loud noise sounded in the woods, causing the woodchuck to run off. A grinning Veneziano waved good-bye at it before grabbing the hand of each boy again.
"Ve~ Let's continue our walk! Big Brother France said there was a really pretty lake nearby~" Once again being dragged along, the Colonies couldn't help but cast almost wistful looks in the direction the woodchuck had run, silently wondering why they couldn't be back at the house, spending time with England, instead.
The group descended into silence. "So, how does France know about this lake?" America asked a few minutes later, no longer able to stand how quiet it was.
Veneziano got a thoughtful look on his face before shrugging. "No idea," he said brightly.
"Knowing that pervert, he probably brought a few of his victims here to show them the 'lovely scenery' or something equally idiotic," Romano muttered, Spain nodding gravely.
"That does sound like France, doesn't it?" The young Colonies nodded, silently agreeing.
The group lapsed into a comfortable silence again, broken only by Romano's occasional curses when he stumbled. Veneziano still led the way, the Colonies following just behind him, and Spain and Romano brought up the rear a few paces behind, the older Nation steadying the younger one when he tripped. Quite some time had passed when Canada received a poke from America, and he gave his brother an inquiring look before following the other's gaze to an oddly familiar rock formation.
"Hey, isn't that where we met the woodchuck?" Canada asked quietly.
His brother nodded. "This is our sixth time passing it." Their groans were drowned out, however, by an enraged shout from Romano who had apparently overheard the boys.
"What?! What do you mean we've passed it six times?!" He yelled, throwing the arms of a concerned Spain off his shoulders. "Veneziano, you idiot! You have no idea where you're going, do you? You bastard! You're going to get us lost in this hell, aren't you?!"
"Romano!" Spain scolded as Veneziano dissolved into tears. The Colonies, both feeling guilty for having brought up the subject, moved to hug Veneziano in an attempt to calm the crying Italian.
"Ve~ I'm sorry. France said it was just past—" However, whatever it was just past was left a mystery as the Italian's sobbing got so bad that it was impossible to decipher his words.
The boys kept awkwardly holding the crying Nation while Spain scolded Romano. When America glanced at Canada, he saw that his twin had a thoughtful look on his face.
"Hey," The Canadian said quietly. America looked at him, but the boy was ignored by the other Nations.
"Hey." He said again, louder, but was still ignored.
"Listen!" He shouted. This got the Nations' attention, and with all eyes on him, Canada blushed and desperately wanted to hide his face in Kumajirou's fur.
He resisted the urge, instead saying, "I think I might actually know what lake France was talking about. Follow me?" Without waiting for a response, Canada turned left and walked off, pulling Kumajirou with him.
America grinned at his brother for finally standing up for himself around other people and eagerly followed behind, giving an amused smile when the others began following, too.
Mere moments later, the group reached a clearing in the woods, revealing the cerulean lake sparkling in the sunlight as it filtered through the trees. It was breathtaking sight to behold. The Colonies looked on, drinking in a sight that they hadn't seen in years, their pride in their land growing when they heard a gasp from Veneziano.
"It's so pretty," The younger Italian said and the others nodded, looking over the clearing.
The spell was soon broken when Romano grumbled, "I guess the wine bastard knows what he's talking about sometimes."
--
The group had made their way further into the valley when the Italians decided that it was time for a siesta. America and Canada had been surprised when the brothers decided to strip before finding a comfortable spot under the shade of a tree, but then again, they were related to France. So, the younger set of brothers and Spain chatted for a bit about their people and lands while the Italians slept.
Romano was the first to wake up and not-so-gently nudged Veneziano awake.
The younger Italian rubbed sleep from his eyes before focusing on the Colonies. "Do you two know how to swim?"
"Of course!" America bristled. "After falling into the water while catching fish as many times as we have, you kind of pick it up."
This caused Spain to frown slightly as he imagined the blonds falling into the water countless times, being pulled along by a fishing pole. "How do you manage to fall in so often? Are the fish too strong for your lines?"
The Colonies looked at the Nation in confusion. "What are you talking about, Spain? Lines? What does a line have to do with catching fish? It's all timing and balance."
America fell silently for a moment, shuddering at a memory of surprisingly cold water. "Those fish are slippery things. More often than not, they slip out of Canada's hands or avoid my nets and when we try to correct ourselves, we fall in. Only Kumajirou manages to catch a fish every time, but he's a bear so he doesn't count." As if to prove America's point, the white bear snatched a fish out of the lake, giving a small bow in response to Veneziano's applause.
Spain was surprised. Sure, he had known that these two boys were further behind Europe technologically, but were they really that far behind? Surely that's something England would have changed. Then again, maybe England didn't know, since despite his poor cooking skills, he was immensely proud to cook for others. Perhaps he was the one to catch and cook fish, and the boys only did so when he wasn't around. Maybe England didn't know how they caught their food when he was gone. Well, that would be something that he, Spain, would have to remedy during his next visit…and maybe he should check the fish-catching techniques of his own Colonies, too.
While Spain was thinking, the younger boys had stripped down to their basic articles of clothing and were now playing in the water. The older Nation leaned against a tree as he watched them all, thinking that they were so cute, even when Romano began yelling at America for splashing him. Canada, surprisingly enough, broke up the argument by pushing America underwater. Romano chuckled cruelly at that…until Veneziano scolded him.
The boys were having so much fun in the lake that they didn't seem to be aware of the sun beginning to set until Spain drew their attention to it. With reluctant sighs and grumbling, the four got dressed again, and they set off back towards the Colonies' house. The way back was much quicker than the way out, however, since America and Canada took the lead, the older Colony babbling about the different plants and animals they passed.
The group was in a good mood, Romano included, until the second they reached the edge of the woods and saw smoke rising out of the chimney of the house. Only Veneziano stayed oblivious, humming a happy tune to himself.
"Hey, Canada, did you leave a fire going?" America asked softly, receiving a shake of a head in response. "Me neither." The five looked at the house, a feeling of dread settling among them.
"Ve~ Maybe Big Brother France is back?" Veneziano offered, his tone not quite as hopeful as his words.
"That's not the wine bastard on the porch," Romano grumbled. He was right. When the companions looked again, there was a short-haired figure standing on the porch, the body language screaming 'pissed off.'
"No, that's England," Spain confirmed quietly. The figure stayed on the porch, not having spotted the group in the woods just yet.
Spain quickly grabbed the boys and dragged them further back, hiding behind the foliage. "I think it would be best if we separated here," He said quietly, the older Italian nodding in agreement. "It was wonderful being able to meet you two without being attacked by England within the first minute. We'll have to visit again soon~" He continued, giving the Colonies a hug before stepping away.
"It was a lot of fun!" Veneziano shouted, looking sheepish when Romano shushed him. "Oops, sorry~"
The younger Italian laughed before giving both Colonies a hug and a kiss. "Come visit us sometime. We always have plenty of pasta to share!" He was shushed again as he was dragged away by Romano. "Hey, wait, what about Big Brother France?"
Romano shrugged, following Spain, his grip tight on Veneziano's collar. "He's on his own. He knew the risks of stalling England."
America and Canada watched as their uncles disappeared into the woods. "England is not going to be happy," America muttered.
"Nope."
"Should we really go home?"
"Do we have a choice?"
"No." America paused. "At least it was fun. They're odd, though."
"Yeah."
The boys quickly but quietly approached the house, flinching when England turned his glare on them.
"Where. Are. They?" The boys pointed to the woods, knowing it would be pointless to lie. "Thank you. Go inside and stay there, please."
The boys nodded and hurried inside, ignoring France tied to a chair in the entryway. And, when they heard a loud scream echo out of the woods a few moments later, they were already hard at work with their primers, ignoring the sounds. After all, their uncles should have known better than to tick England off.