"Yo! Arthur! 'Sup dude?" Alfred strolled into Arthur's house after being invited over by the personification of the Great Britian nation. "Come in, come in Alfred, I've been expecting you."

Arthur replies politely. It was rare for Arthur to invite the American nation over unless he had other motives. Which he did. If only Alfred could see the large, Cheshire Cat smirk plastered on the brit's face as he poured some tea.

He turned around, tea cups on a tray and a small, almost sickeningly sweet smile on his face to wash over the smirk. "Tea?"

"Yeah thanks dude." Alfred sat down as Arthur handed him his cup. Alfred took a sip, smiling at the nice warm feel it left in his throat. Now America LOVED coffee, but he did enjoy a nice cup of tea every once in awhile.

"So what's up bro? We hardly ever hang out. Any special occasion?"

"No particular reason. Is it really so hard to believe I'd invite an old 'friend' over for tea with no malicious intentions whatsoever? "

Alfred laughed. "Yeah right dude!" He finished his cup of tea. "Hey, this is really good. What brand is this?"

"Just Earl Grey…and magic."

"What?"

"I said magic. I enchanted your tea with an aging spell."

Alfred shot up, the tea cup shattering to the ground as it was knocked over. "What?! Dude, you were fucking with that freaky black magic shit again?!"

"Precisely my dear Alfred! And you should be feeling the effects any moment now.~" He chuckled and patted Alfred's cheek. Arthur smirked. Everything was going according to plan for once. Earlier, he'd spoken an enchantment while he'd mixed the special powder. It was an aging powder. And when America consumed it, his mind would age into that of a 98 year-old man. Making America's brain and whole body virtually useless and he wouldn't bother England ever again. England had never wanted to 'destroy' America the country, but he wanted to destroy the man who personified it. And soon it would all be over. The poison was already starting to take affect.

Alfred choked for a minute before he fell to the ground, writhing as he gripped his head. "Aaahh!" He cried out in pain. After another minute of crying he finally passed out.

England smirked wickedly. He knew it would be a good half hour before Alfred woke up. In the mean time, Arthur drank his non-tainted tea and read the paper.

Around 30 minutes later, Arthur went back over to Alfred's still un-lively body. He gave a slight kick, not really to hurt, just to wake the chap up. "Come on now, Mr. Jones ," Arthur snickered, saying it like he was talking to an elderly. "It's time to get up." He planned to put him in the car and just drop him off in some random retirement home. Or maybe a dumpster, whatever, it's not like Alfred would have enough brain power to fight back or even know what was going on.

Alfred groaned, opening his eyes. He sat up and looked around, completely dazed and confused. Arthur tried not to be cliché and laugh wickedly. But it was just too good to be true!

Alfred looked to Arthur and looked right into the other's emerald green eyes. His own baby blue ones wide and sparkly. "D-daddy…?"

Arthur blinked. "Wait, what?"

Alfred just smiled and wrapped his arms around Arthur's legs, hugging him tightly. "Daddy!~"

Arthur tried to take a step back but Alfred kept him firmly in place. "G-get off of me, I'm not your father!" He was starting to freak out a bit. He finally broke free of Alfred's grip and backed away into the living room. Leaving a very sad looking Alfred in the kitchen. "Daddy?"

Arthur quickly ran upstairs and went to his black book of magic. He looked up the spell again. He re-read it 3 times, he did everything right! Why was America not acting like an elderly, and instead like a…like a toddler?!

He looked over the ingredients again, and then the words to the enchantment that he'd spoken earlier. As any good witchcraftsman knows, the enchantment is really what gave the potion or powder or spell it's power. And that's exactly where he found his mistake. He'd mess up on one verse in particular.

So instead of turning Alfred's mind to that of a 98 year old man, he gave him the mind of a 2 or 3 year old toddler! Shit!

"Daddy?" Alfred called out again, not seeing his 'father' anywhere. He sniffled. He suddenly felt alone and scared and began to cry, wailing loud enough for Arthur to hear him upstairs. Arthur shivered, the hairs standing up on his neck. Hearing America cry like a child was just plain wrong, rather on the borderline of creepy.

But there he was, Alfred F. Jones, a full grown man, on the floor crying like a baby. Because his mind, at this stage, was that of a baby.

Arthur just sighed. The plan backfired but it still worked on some level. Alfred was weak and helpless and as soon as he ditched him somewhere, he'd never be bothered with the pest ever again.

He got his coat and went downstairs. "Quit your whining wanker, and get to the car." Alfred sniffled but stopped crying and watched Arthur slip on his shoes. Arthur blinked, noticing the other staring at him. "Well come on!" Alfred got on his hands and knees and crawled over to Arthur. He shivered again, this was getting creepy. "S-stand up properly!"

Alfred blinked but used his hands to try and make himself stand up. And it worked. But the toddler-minded man could not figure is own center of gravity and fell to the ground. He began to cry again.

Arthur sighed. "You can't seriously have forgotten how to walk." He groaned and bent down, wrapping one arm around Alfred's legs and the other around his back, lifting him up with difficulty and carrying him in his arms.

"Holy mother of God, you're bloody heavy!" He winced as he carried the larger man, who simply smiled as his 'daddy' carried him.

It was a short walk to the car, but for Arthur it had been a marathon and a half given the large 'toddler' in his arms. He plopped him into passenger seat. "Oh god, I think I threw out my back!"

He limped to the driver's side, cracked his back, and got in, starting up the car. Now to dispose of the little bastard. But where?

America stared curiously out the window into the streets of England. He had forgotten all of these wonderful sights. Everything now seeming absolutely foreign, and a little bit scary.

Arthur made a sharp right turn, startling Alfred a bit. He was now driving down a long, dark alley. Alfred whimpered, this place seemed really scary.

Arthur finally stopped the car and got out, getting around the other side and opening up the passenger door, letting Alfred out.

"Alright, this should be good enough. Wish I could say it's been fun ol' chap, but then that would make me a liar." The brit laughed wickedly and got back into the car. "See you never America, have a nice fuckin' life!" With that he drove off, leaving the distraught American 'toddler' all alone in the long, dark, scary alley.

Alfred sniffled. "Daddy?" He voiced to no one. "D-daddy?" His eyes brimmed with tears again as he began to bawl his eyes out, crying for his 'daddy'.

Arthur blinked, he wasn't even 30 ft away yet and he could still here the fool crying. He rolled his eyes. Unfortunately, he got caught behind a car at a long stop-light. So he was forced to continue hearing that wretched crying. But the more he heard it, the less great he felt. In fact, he was starting to feel just a tad guilty.

America sounded like a helpless child. And England could never ignore or abandon a helpless child. He loved children. He'd tried a few times to have some of his own. But being a nation meant that you weren't allowed to have children. But also being a nation, the rules of birth didn't quite apply to him. So he'd gotten pregnant before and given birth, but his little bundles of joy never made it past 3 months in the real world.

The closest he'd gotten to actually raising a child was when he first took in America. But Alfred, even at such a young age, had already been so strong and independent, and England had to leave him a lot, it just wasn't the same.

In a way it was similar to before. Only this time America was helpless, and needed Arthur.

Arthur had made up his mind, ignoring the multitude of cars that beeped at him for stalling in the road for so long; he quickly turned in the street and drove back to where he'd left America.

Alfred was still crying but blinked when he saw the car approach him again. But his face lit up when he saw England step out of the car. "Daddy!"

He cried with delight and Arthur picked him up again, cradling the larger nation in his arms despite how heavy the other nation was.

"Shh…shh…it's alright now. I'm so sorry Alfred, I promise, 'daddy' won't leave you ever again." He smiled and held the other close.

Alfred, of course not really comprehending the words but smiling and snuggling into England all the same.

So England drove home with America and brought him back into the house, setting him down on the couch. He smiled and patted his head, then went back to the kitchen to make a sandwich. "Are you hungry Alfred?"

"Hungwy!" The other delightedly answered.

England chuckled. It actually sounded rather cute how limited Alfred's vocabulary had become. But what was he going to give him? Food? No, Alfred's motor skills weren't able to comprehend holding a fork, much less a sandwich. And England wasn't a big fan of liquid foods unless it was soup, but Alfred probably wouldn't like the brands of soup he had. Milk then? That seemed like the best option at the moment until he could buy something more suitable for Alfred.

Arthur went rummaging through his cabinets, looking for something.

"Hungwy!" Alfred whined again.

"I know, in a moment!" Arthur called back, finding what he was looking for. It was a dusty baby bottle. It had never been used. It was meant for Clarence, a human baby that England had tried to adopt behind his bosses' back. But when his boss found out, he was none too happy. He took the baby away and sent it to a different family. England was heartbroken after that, and all the baby items that he'd bought had gone unused.

He washed out the bottle, making sure it was nice and clean, and then he put the milk inside and gave it to Alfred, who could barely even hold that.

England smiled; noticing the difficulty the other was having holding the bottle. Just like a baby. So he took away the bottle, which made Alfred whimper, but sat down and pulled Alfred onto his lap and placed it back in his mouth, holding it for him.

America eagerly sucked at the rubber slit, sucking the milk into his mouth. After he was finished, England set the now empty bottle on the table. "Good boy! You drank it all." He patted Alfred's head and set him down on the couch.

"Now stay right here for a little bit, alright? 'Daddy' has some work to do." He kissed the top of Alfred's head and turned on the teli for him, switching it to the cartoons.

After which he went downstairs into his basement and pulled out a crib. Now, England knew perfectly well that even in this state, America was PERFECTLY capable of sleeping in a bed. But England didn't want him to. It was starting to become almost like an obsession, making America his baby as much as he could. Now obviously the crib was too small, so he got to work on taking it apart, then rebuilding it with some plywood to make it Alfred's size. (He covered it with other materials later to make sure Alfred didn't get a splinter)

Arthur was finished about 3 hours later, and brought the crib upstairs, placing it in his master bedroom. Arthur went back downstairs and smiled, seeing that his little America had fallen asleep on the couch. He groaned, picking up the heavy nation, and brought him upstairs, placing him in the crib. He made sure to design it so that it could withstand Alfred's weight and even painted it Red, White, and Blue.

He pulled the blanket over Alfred and tucked his 'baby' in, making sure he was nice and warm. Alfred snuggled into the blankets, subconsciously raising his hand to his face and placing his thumb in his mouth. Arthur tried not to giggle, but his 'baby' was just too cute. He took off Alfred's glasses (not that he really needed them), and placed them on the nightstand. He reached up, and turned on the mobile hanging from the ceiling above the crib, out of Alfred's reach of course, and turned it on, so that the little animals attached to the strings spun very slowly and played a lullaby as they went. It was so surreal. It had been such a long time since Arthur had gotten to raise a child. And even longer since he's felt so happy. "Sleep well my 'baby' Alfred…" He spoke softly and kissed his forehead before he left, turning off the light and closing the door.

It continued like this for another 3 weeks. No nation had heard of hide nor hair from America or England. Which was completely abnormal, since America was constantly being a show-off. Some nations were a tad concerned, some didn't care, and some hoped the bastard keeled over. But England was quite happy. America was completely his 'baby'. Alfred, now reduced to a large infant that was completely dependent on England to take care of him.

Currently right now, Alfred was happily resting on England's lap, beginning to drift to sleep while England read him a story. "…And they all lived Happily Ever After. The end." As England closed the book, he noted the soft snores coming from his 'baby'. Looks like the little bugger fell asleep on him. How cute. England chuckled quietly to himself and lifted Alfred (with difficulty) up to his room and into his crib.

England brushed a few stray strands of hair from Alfred's face and kissed the top of his head before turning on the mobile. "Sorry poppet, Daddy has to run a few errands now. But he'll be back soon enough. Sleep well." He smiled warmly and left, gently closing the bedroom door and left only a crack open.

And while England was away, America was having nice sweet, sugar-plum filled dreams. Or at least he was, until England's spell began to wear off. About an hour later, the spell was completely gone and America was back to his old self. So imagine his surprise when he awoke to find himself in a frilly night gown, a diaper, and inside of a man-sized crib. Well of course he freaked out and panicked. He quickly got up and out of the crib, backing away until he bumped into the bed. A bed? He looked to the bed, and then to the rest of the room, trying to think of exactly what had happened.

And then, it all came back to him. This was England's room; he was in England's house. Because England put some shit into his tea and for the past 3 weeks, America had more or less become a baby. The very thought just sickened the American to no end. He dry-heaved a bit, feeling like he was going to throw up. But there was no time for hysterics; he was getting out of here before he really did get sick. But first things first, he needed to find some clothes, and secondly, he needed a proper shower.

About two hours after England had left Alfred, he returned home, humming a tune quietly while carrying a few bags. "America, I'm home!" "Welcome back, Iggy." America spat venomously upon hearing the former empire arrive.

England jolted and dropped his bags in shock. America had answered him back! Oh bloody hell, that wasn't good. America sauntered into the kitchen to 'greet' his (twice) former caretaker. "Hey Iggy. Looks like you had fun shopping. Do you mind telling me why the fuck he drugged my tea and turned me into a baby for 3 fucking weeks!" America wasn't just pissed. No, he was beyond mad. Not to mention and hurt betrayed.

"Now now America…I can explain…"

"Explain what?! That you fucking drugged me for fun and took advantage of my weakened state? You got some kind of sick pleasure out of it didn't you, you sick pedophilic fuck!"

"That is a lie! I never one touched you inappropriately, I treated you like I would treat my own child!"

"Well I'm not your fucking child!"

"But I wanted you to be!" Arthur was on the verge of tears now.

"I admit it, alright?! At first, I only wanted to hinder you handicapped and ditch you somewhere to knock you down a few pegs…but the spell went wrong and instead you became a baby. My baby!"

"Dude that's just fucking sick! Why the fuck-" "Because I'm lonely, alright?!" The hot tears were pouring down his cheeks now. "I've been so lonely…and I've always wanted a child. But I could never have one. My government would interfere, or the laws of Nature, and all of my colonies rebelled from me. You were my last chance and you for so fragile in that state. I'm sorry! It was a shitting thing to but you know what…? I was happy. I was happy that you were my baby! I could finally raise a child just like I always wanted. I just wanted to be happy with a baby…and given all that I've suffered, is that really too much to ask?"

Alfred just glared at him with disgust. There was so much he wanted to say. He wanted to yell and scream and maybe kick England's ass. But in the end he just closed his mouth and said nothing. Opting instead to walk right past the broken empire and towards the door.

"Whatever, I'm leaving. And by the way, I'm cutting all ties with you. I never want to speak to you again unless it's for political reasons or at a World Meeting. And I swear to God England if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone I will fucking end you." With that he slammed the door and left for his own country.

Arthur just sat there on the floor, silently crying and holding himself. It was over. It was all over. America had left him again. Only this time, it was even more damaging than having their countries wage war. And only this time, England knew he would never be happy again.

About two months later after the whole ordeal, all the countries filed into the meeting room as it was time yet again for the World Summit, this time being held in London. England however wasn't a very cheery host. In fact he seemed distant, with a faint hint of hurt in his eyes. Most tried to ignore it or pretended not to see it. Others however, were very concerned. Like Japan and France.

"Mon ami, you are looking rather down. Perhaps you would like a 'Happy Ending' to cheer you up. Ohon hon hon.~" The joke was meant to be light-spirited make England react. Whether it be a laugh or a scream or a 'Get away from me, bloody frog!', France had hoped it would stir the other. But it did nothing. England just mumbled something in coherent, barely even acknowledging that the Frenchman was even there or just made a very sexual pass at him.

"Arthur-san. Please, what is wrong? You seem very out of it rately." Japan expressed his concerns almost quietly like usual. But England just answered brokenly. "No. It's fine…"

Japan jumped slightly at the dull reaction he received. So he went over to another one of his friends, America.

"Alfred-kun. I think there is something wrong with Arthur-san. Do you have any idea what might have a happened?"

Surprisingly, as most countries noted, America actually entered the meeting in a foul mood. And Japan mentioning England only made him angrier. "I dunno Kiku, and I really don't care. I think if he's gonna mope like a bitch, he should stop wasting air and just drop dead." America hissed so that only England and Japan could hear him.

Japan was appalled but said nothing more and backed away slowly. England widened his eyes a bit but just looked away. The rest of the meeting went by rather awkwardly with a scarily quiet England and a very pissed off America.

That night England went to a bar and drowned his sorrows in booze and liquor. In fact he drowned himself too, in his own bile. He'd drunk so much that he couldn't heave enough and choked on his own vomit. The patrons at the bar were all shocked when they found Arthur Kirkland, the representation of England, dead in the bathroom surrounded by his own filth.