Warning: Pirate!England, swearing, selfcest, yaoi, implied parallel character death
Germany groaned and rolled over. His head felt like it was going to explode.
Gott, he must have been absolutely smashed last night.
He rolled over again, trying to find a more comfortable spot to sleep away his hangover in.
Stupid America and his stupid speeches that no-one ever listens to and his stupid billion-dollar projects and-
Wait.
America.
The summit.
Shit.
Germany opened his eyes, and was met with a rather pretty view. However, it was not of his room, his roommate or even the city view from outside his window. It was a field. A paddock, to be exact. A paddock strewn with the various unconscious forms of the rest of the G8.
Well, he hoped they were unconscious. It would be a tad inconvenient if they were dead.
More importantly, where the hell were they, and what the fuck happened?
Germany cautiously got to his feet, mindful of his pounding head, and began to explore.
It looked like they were on a farm of some sort, but one that had long fallen into disuse. There was an old, dilapidated barn off to the side, and he could see a broken-down farmhouse in the distance. There was also a smoking, twisted pile of metal near America.
Germany was about to return when a flash of silver caught his eye. He limped over to investigate, and upon inspection, found it was not silver, but a pile of steel. Weapons, that is. They were strange weapons, though, reminiscent of the kind of weapons pirates used to use. Further investigation found a small rise which, when stood on, gave a fairly clear view of the tents camped a few paddocks away.
Obviously the farm had not, in fact, fallen into disuse, but was being used for another purpose. It was time to wake the others up. Hopefully they'd be able to leave unseen, and avoid tangling with any of the people in the tents.
The rest of the G8 began to stir, and muttered curses and complaints filled the air.
Germany sighed in relief. They weren't dead after all.
Working quickly, he took charge.
"Right. Head count, all of you. We need to get out of here as quickly as possible, and I don't want to leave anyone behind."
Grumbling, they complied.
"Here!"
"Here~"
"Here!"
"H-here…"
"Here"
"Here"
"Here!"
"Here!"
"England's here too, but he hasn't woken up yet"
"And I'm here too", Germany finished, frowning. Something wasn't right.
He counted again.
"Why are there ten people? This was the G8 summit, right?"
There was a rather sheepish cough from behind the other nations, and Prussia came forward, dragging a half-asleep Spain with him.
Germany glared at them.
"So this was you're doing"
"Hey!" Prussia argued, "You dunno that! It could've been anyone!"
Germany rolled his eyes.
"Bruder, every time you attempt to pull off something big, you bring Spain and France along. Every. Time. You're so predictable I could set my watch by you."
Prussia huffed indignantly. "Well, I didn't do it. Maybe it was America. Wasn't his big opening speech about a tardis or something?"
The group all turned to stare at America, who was poking at the lump of metal on the ground and muttering to himself. Germany raised an eyebrow.
"Well?"
America stood up, dusted himself off, and turned to face the rest of the nations.
"Well," he began guiltily, "I think I found out what went wrong with the TARDIS."
France snorted.
"You mean you actually managed to build one?"
"Well, it worked!" America snapped. "Maybe if someone," he continued, glaring pointedly at Spain, "hadn't put a tomato on it," here he pulled out a reddish-black lump that looked suspiciously like something England would make, "we wouldn't be in this mess."
Spain stared back at him.
"Wait, so it actually worked?"
"I just said that."
"What, so we're in another world?"
"More like a parallel universe, but yeah, that's kind of obvious."
"Like, legit? We're actually in a parallel universe?"
"Duh. Didn't I just say that? "
Japan tentatively placed a hand on America's shoulder.
"Maybe we should figure out a plan before we argue."
"Whatever."
Germany rolled his eyes and prepared to take charge again.
"Er… Germany, I think you might have miscounted"
Germany turned around, exasperated.
"What is it now, Russia? I'm trying to get everything sort- oh."
He stared at the limp form in Russia's arms.
"Is she okay?"
"I think so," Russia replied, "but she was hit the worst by the explosion, so I'm not sure."
Germany sighed. A bunch of squabbling nations was hard to deal with at the best of times, and he really didn't want Belarus to wake up anytime soon.
"Just carry her for the time being. We'll figure something out later."
"Anyway," he began, spinning back around, "we should probably get out of here soon, because- Italy! What are you doing?"
From his vantage point on the rise, Italy waved excitedly.
"Germany! Germany! There's tents down here! Do you think they'll have pasta?"
Shit.
Inwardly cursing, Germany sprinted for the rise, only to be beaten by Prussia, who dragged him bodily off the rise and handed him over to Germany.
"Jesus, West, keep an eye on your roommate, yeah? I don't think the people in those tents are gonna be very friendly, on account of them having a gallows an' all."
Germany took a firm hold on Italy and gave his brother a weary nod of thanks.
"Will do."
"U-um… Germany?"
Germany sighed.
"What?"
"N-nothing… it's just… I, uh…"
Germany felt like banging his head against a brick wall.
"Spit it out, Canada."
"I… well… I can't wake England up. At all. And I don't think he's breathing."
Scratch that, Germany felt like banging England's head against a brick wall.
"Alright, change of plan. Half of us are going to see if they can steal medical supplies or something from the camp down there. The other half are going to stay up here and look after England and Belarus."
The reactions were instantaneous.
"I'm goin'!"
"As the hero, I should go, too!"
America had certainly perked up, Germany observed dryly.
"I agree with America…"
"I'll go. They might have some beautiful women…"
"If Prussia and France are going, I'm going too!"
"I should probably go too, to keep an eye on America."
"Stupid commie bastard! I don't need a babysitter!"
Germany looked around at all the excited faces before him.
"Fine, I suppose you all can go. We'll need to split up, anyway. Italy and… umm…"
"Canada"
"Yes, Canada… You two can stay here and look after the wounded. We'll be back in about an hour. If we're not back by then, get out of here, okay? And Italy, wipe that look off your face. It's not like I'm going to die or anything."
With that, Germany turned on his heel and sprinted over the rise, followed closely by the other nations.
I know this is a crock of shit, and I know that I should be updating my other fics, but I watched a buttload of Pirate!England AMVs on youtube last night, and my brain has now decided that it wants Pirate!England/England selfcest.
My brain is a separate entity that I cannot control. At all. So here, have some shitty selfcest that won't appear for a while. While you're waiting, have some hinted Ger/Ita.