A/N: I don't own Hetalia or Doctor Who.
This drabble is set during the Doctor Who episode "Turn Left".
Two men could be seen arguing in a dark, dreary alley.
The first man stood tall. He was dressed elegantly, and his silky blond hair was perfectly styled.
The other man stood leaning against the brick wall. He looked like a strong wind could blow him over, and his bushy eyebrows were knitted together in pain. His suit was dirty and wrinkled, and his blond hair was unkempt.
"Please," he whispered. "You have to help me. Damn you, France! You can't just close your borders!"
"I can," the Frenchman replied sadly. "I'm sorry, Angleterre."
"I have seven million people without homes, and half of my land is flooded with radiation! Have you no decent bone in your body?"
"I have done what I can to help. I have my own people to worry about, you know."
"You'd be glad to see me gone, wouldn't you?" England accused. "Fine! I'll get by without your help. I'll-"
"Yes, yes, I'm sure you will," France interrupted. "Amerique is going to give you money, isn't he?"
"Yes. Unlike you, he has morals."
"I have morals!"
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"No you don't, you bloody frog!"
"I have more morals than you, black sheep!"
The two parted ways under unfavorable terms, though that state of affairs was nothing new.
Soon after, America fell into chaos when thousands of his citizens melted into walking blobs of fat. (The super power would never look at a hamburger the same way again.)
England would have to survive on his own.
He couldn't count on anyone to save him this time.
Not even the Doctor.
