A/N: Because if nobody's going to write this one, then I better hurry it up and stake claim on it! Quite frankly, I'm surprised it wasn't taken right away. Both this Disney film and this Hetalia character are within my top favourites for their respective categories anyway =D

Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.
Peter Pan belongs to JM Barrie and Walt Disney Pictures.

"NO! NO! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!"

Daryn remained unmoved to the screams and shrieks that spewed out of squirming child tucked under his arm. Arthur's tiny fists pounded against his brother's back as he continued wailing.

"I shan't I shan't I shan't I shan't!"

"You shall," another voice intoned darkly as Arthur felt himself being dumped into another set of arms. Malcolm frowned down at him. "If you won't take a bath, at least you can go to bed."

Arthur just kicked him, causing the older boy to yelp in pain. At that, a redhead stuck his head through the door frame.

"The hell is going on?" Malcolm held up their squealing handful of a brother. "Oh." He returned inside, the others following him.

Arthur continued whining as Malcolm tucked him into bed.

"Arthur, give it a rest. Can't you act mature for once?" He motioned towards the mop of orange hair already nestled between the sheets. "Even Rory can go to bed without being told twice. He's nearly a grown up."

The littlest Kirkland scowled from his quilted trap. "Then I won't grow up, I won't I won't I won't I won't-"

Malcolm just sighed and turned out the light. Then he left the room, closing the door without even saying goodnight. Arthur stared at it for a few seconds before sitting up.

"Rory?" He squinted at the golden-orange strands that were sticking up from the other bed's pillow. The open window caused them to sway a little. Arthur tried again. "Rory? Rory!"

His brother finally rolled over, glaring irritably at him. "What do you want? I'm trying to sleep, you arse!"

Arthur crawled out from under his blanket. "Will you go rabbit hunting with me tomorrow?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because it's infantile and pointless," Rory snapped. He wiggled further down into his sheets, still frowning. "And anyway, I'm going out with the boys tomorrow."

"Who are the boys? Can I come?"

"Never you mind who they are, and no, you can't. This isn't baby stuff. Just shut up and go to sleep, for Pete's sake." With that, Rory slid beneath the covers until only his bright red hair could be seen.

Arthur blinked in surprise. Though he'd never really expected kindness from any of his brothers, Rory had always let him tag along with his games before. But recently, all he cared about was being with other people from his own form. Arthur, who was still in primary school, suddenly wasn't worthy anymore…

The child quietly slipped off the bed and silently ran to the open window, staring out at the rest of the city. London didn't sleep. Tiny pinpricks of light glowed back at Arthur, winking with an unfaithful cheekiness. The boy sniffled and glared back, loathing their mockery. Then suddenly, all the lights disappeared, just for a moment.

Arthur gasped, and throwing caution aside, he leaned over the sill to stare past the curtains, torso arched precariously from the third storey window. The breeze playfully ruffled his hair as he squinted hard. A shadow had quickly flitted around the bend of the roof.

He reached up with a grubby hand to rub at his eyes. Then – unmistakably – the sound of…a bell?

It was coming from above him. Arthur looked up and saw what seemed like a glittering ball of golden light hovering over his head. As it floated lower towards him, the melodic tinkling he heard earlier also became louder. All Arthur could do was gape as the musical, glittering thing paused for a moment at the tip of his nose before zooming into the room.

Arthur twisted around, forgetting that half his body was already out the window. Losing balance, he felt himself falling backwards, down, down towards the ground, where he knew either the cobblestone pavement or the iron-spike fence waited for him. As he was about to shut his eyes and consign himself to his fate, somebody suddenly snatched him up by the collar and shoved him back through the window.

"Oof!"

"Oof yourself!"

Arthur scrambled to his feet and spun around. He gasped in amazement. Perched on the windowsill was a boy not much older than he, clad in a green tunic with brown accents. A feathered cap sat jauntily on the reddish-brown hair, but Arthur had bigger concerns than fashion sense. He scrutinized the newcomer closely.

"Are….are you a ghost?"

The other boy hopped lightly onto the floor. "Me? Naw! But Tink here's a faerie."

The jingling song once again echoed throughout the room. Arthur's eyes followed the small light wildly as it darted about the space.

"But Rory told me that faeries don't exi-"

He was interrupted by a dirty, calloused hand thrust over his mouth. A pair of intense grey eyes burned into his soul.

"Never say that! Never!" The strange boy gave Arthur a small shake as he glared. "Every time you say that, a faerie dies."

Arthur was completely cowed into horror at this. He nodded fervently. "But I didn't mean it, I…" As the flitting golden haze came near him again, this time humming with an indignant air, he directed his speech towards it. "I'm sorry….Tink?"

The sparkling object stayed suspended over him for a while. After a few seconds of deliberation, it descended closer to the awed child, until he felt the faintest hint of weight resting on his head. The boy laughed.

"Hey! She likes you! That's funny because usually, she only likes me." Leaping up, he sailed through the air until he settled himself onto a high shelf. "And her name's really Tinkerbell. And I'm Peter!" Peter jumped back down again, whipping the cap off his head as he bowed extravagantly. "Peter Pan!"

"Arthur Albion Kirkland."

Peter wrinkled his nose. "Eww, that sounds so grown-up and stuffy. Say Artie – I'm gonna call you Artie! - how old are you?"

"Six and a half." Arthur puffed up his chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious of his short stature. "I'll be seven in -"

"Well, that's not too bad," Peter interrupted. "But sooner or later you'll be old and boring like the rest of them."

Arthur frowned. This kid obviously did not have tact as one of his strengths. However, that wasn't too big of a problem right now. "How do you do it?"

Peter paused in examining the toys (all Arthur's, as Rory had now disowned many of them) to shoot him a quizzical look. "Do what?"

"Fly."

An expression of surprise crossed Peter's face.

"Why, it's easy! All you have to do is to…is to…is to..." He paused for a few seconds, thinking hard. Then he laughed and jumped high into the air, landing on the edge of a chair's back. "Hah! That's funny. I never thought about it before."

"Can you teach me?"

Peter glanced back at the small blond child, who was now staring determinedly at him with intense green eyes. He could sense something hanging in the air between them, almost like a challenge.

"Sure, I can! You think of a wonderful thought!"

Arthur blinked at this simplicity. "Any happy little thought?"

The taller boy nodded vigorously. "Uh huh!"

"Like…" Arthur scanned the room for inspiration. "Knights in shining armour? Cakes at teatime? Or…" He glanced up at the glittering figure still resting on his head. "Faeries?"

"Yeah!" Peter took a step back. "Watch me, now. Here I go!"

Arthur blinked again, and suddenly Peter was whizzing around in circles, narrowly avoiding the ceiling. Tinkerbell jumped off his head to join him, and they shot around the room almost effortlessly. Peter flew down closer and grabbed Arthur's hand.

"Now you try! One, two…"

He yanked hard on the younger boy's arm, and Arthur jumped off the toy box. Automatically, he plummeted to the floor, landing on his side with a very audible THUMP.

"Ow!"

He winced and rubbed the spot where he had landed. Peter doubled over in midair, laughing heartily. Arthur glared at him. Rory, amazingly, continued slumbering on. Peter grinned and leaned over to inspect his tiny protege.

"What's the matter with you? All it takes is faith and trust…" Tinkerbell sailed by, her own laughter sounding like tiny sleigh bells shaking. "Oh! And something I forgot. Dust!"

"Dust?"

"Yup! Just a little bit of pixie dust." As Peter grabbed at the golden haze of light hovering nearby, Arthur could have sworn that in that instant, he spotted two beautiful butterfly wings in between the grubby fingers. Peter shook the faerie enthusiastically over Arthur's head, shimmering sparkles of magic pouring down on top of him.

"Now, think of the happiest things! It's the same as having wings! C'mon, try it just once more."

Arthur scrunched up his eyes, concentrating as hard as he could.

"Look! You're rising off the floor!"

Arthur opened his eyes and realized that he indeed was now slowly ascending towards Peter and Tinkerbell. He gasped.

"I can fly!"

Peter whooped in glee. "You can fly!" He shot out the window. "Come on!"

Arthur followed, and soon they were both soaring over the rooftops of London. Arthur loved seeing his own shadow slithering over the roof shingles, down the walls of buildings and onto the cobblestone streets, where it wiggled and danced its way around the dark city. Imitating Peter, he spun around chimneys and weather vanes.

After a short incident with a small cloud that resulted in a soaking wet nightie, Arthur began paying attention to his surroundings. To his surprise, he recognized the green lawns of Kensington Gardens beneath him. A few metres ahead of him, Peter suddenly whooped before diving down towards the Round Pond, causing a few ducks to scatter.

They continued along Kensington Road, all the way up to Wellington Arch before sailing over Buckingham Palace Gardens. Arthur couldn't suppress a grin – wouldn't Rory be envious that he actually got to get so close to the Palace?

Scotland Yard. Westminster Abbey. Finally, Peter and Tinkerbell made their landing upon the minute hand of the Palace of Westminster's north clock tower on the stroke of a quarter after midnight. Arthur hurriedly joined them, staring up at the enormous glass face with awe. He'd never been up this late before.

"Hey, Artie! See over there?"

Peter pointed into the distance, past the dozens of buildings that seemed to stretch on forever. Arthur squinted, barely making out London Bridge in the distance.

"No, you silly! Up there!" Peter gestured at the sky, where the full moon lazily lurked between the clouds. "That's where Neverland is. Second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning."

Indeed, there were two cross-shaped sparkles of light that gleamed brighter than any of the jewels in the royal crown. They seemed to smile down at the boys, the ends of their points touching each other, almost looking as if they were holding hands.

Peter turned around to look at Arthur. The light from the clock cast strange shadows on his face, accenting his youthful glee and pride. "In Neverland, you don't have to grow up! No school, no chores, no work, just playing all the time! All day long for me and the lost boys, they're all kids who decided they'd never grow up too. You can come and join us! No adults ever bother us." Peter paused for a second. "Well, except for the pirates."

Arthur gasped with excitement. "Pirates?"

Peter jumped off the clock arm, suspended in the air. "Yeah, those dastardly scoundrels! Led by the evillest, meanest pirate of them all…Captain Hook, that smelly codfish!" He whipped a tiny dagger out of his belt and slashed the air enthusiastically. "But we can take 'im, can't we, Artie? We'll beat the pants off of ALL the pirates and take their ship, so then we can sail the seven seas and have terrific adventures!" Peter put away his weapon before extending a hand out to the other boy.

Arthur was about to say yes and fly off into the night when he suddenly recalled the three other figures in his life. How odd, to unexpectedly remember how Daryn, as distant as he was, worked so hard to keep a household of four boys afloat while standing on the minute hand of the Big Ben. Funny how the mind worked, bringing up the image of Malcolm carrying him home after a fun but exhausting day at the very park he had flown over earlier. And why think of Rory, who didn't even want to be with him anymore, when he had the chance to fly away to a magical world of faeries and pirates?

He looked up into Peter's grinning face, still lit up by the clock, the moon, and Tinkerbell's glittering light. "I don't think so…"

Peter's face fell. "But why?"

Arthur raised one shoulder, then the other. "I don't know. I can't leave here. England's my home."

For a moment, the two boys just stared each other, one standing on the clock, one floating in the air. After a while, Peter sighed and held out his hand again.

"Okay, be that way. I guess I should take you home."

The flight back was uneventful, and Arthur savoured the wonderful sensation of the winde rippling through his hair and clothes before tumbling back through a familiar open window. Peter didn't come in, opting to hover over the sill.

"Well, if you ever change your mind, second star to the right…"

"And straight on 'til morning," Arthur finished, smiling back at him.

Peter laughed. "If it's Neverland you need, it's light will lead you there!" With one last wave, the boy had disappeared, the faint sound of bells echoing softly in the air.

Arthur leaned out the window again, this time making sure to keep his weight firmly in the room. Sure enough, the two silver pinpricks of light still winked at him. He waved at them fervently.

"Goodbye, Peter Pan," he whispered.

"Why the Dickens are you still awake?"

Arthur whirled around. Rory emerged from his mound of blankets, frowning beneath the messy red hair.

"It's nearly one in the morning. Are you completely daft?" His older brother sat up, scrutinizing his clothes. "And why are you damp?"

Arthur ignored the question, but crawled into the other bed. "'Night, Rory."

Rory blinked lazily back. "'Night, Arthur." He rolled over back on his side, and in a few minutes was snoring contentedly once more.

Arthur snuggled into his own sheets, still watching the moonlight streaking through his window. The touch of the soft pillow suddenly reminded him of how tired he really was. As he drifted off to sleep, he thanked the little star that shined…the second from the right.

A/N: Oh Arthur, how I wish I could take you up and squdge you! You so cute!

I listened to "Second Star to the Right" and "You Can Fly" all throughout the writing of this (might be a little obvious, since I lifted exact lines from the lyrics). I love all the old lovely Disney songs. There's something really heartwarming about those tunes from the Classics. They're really simple and very formal sounding, but the magic still works. Bambi, Lady & the Tramp, Alice in Wonderland, Cinderella, Peter Pan – I really do love those songs =D

Daryn – Wales. Malcolm – Scotland. Rory – Ireland. Those are the names I use for them. Also, Albion is the oldest name ever for England. It's such a nice name, I couldn't pass it up!