What the Countries do When Sleep Deprived
Somewhere in some nondescript room in Washington, D.C. the countries are trapped and seriously discussing starting World War III. Of course, this is mostly because they are out of coffee and haven't slept in about a week, but they are beyond reason right now. This does not stop Canada from pointing it out anyway, but well . . . no one listens to Canada.
"Hey guys, I know you're busy planning an invasion of Australia . . . for some reason, but maybe, you all should take a nap, or we could try making a cell phone out of the coffee maker again so we can . . . " They all glare daggers at Canada, and he trails off. America walks over to him and pats his back.
"Canada, it's not your fault."
He hides his face in shame. America knows full well it's his fault. All trying to make him feel better will accomplish is getting him murdered by caffeine junkies.
"Don't do this America. I'm trying to help."
Still, dead serious, he grabs hold of Canada's shoulders. The other countries look on with murderous intent. Shit, couldn't he have picked a better time to be a good brother?
"It's not your fault."
Whatever, the sooner he got America to shut up, the sooner the rest of the countries would return to picking on Australia. Heh, sorry Kyle.
"Okay. Fine. It's not my fault," he says, gritting his teeth.
"What? It totally was. You're the one who sent all those stupid letters to our bosses telling them to lock us up until we made world peace happen. That's a lot of pressure," America says, pointing an accusing finger at him. Never mind the fact that he had tricked him into starting an argument. Canada wants everyone to stop treating him like an evil mastermind.
"Look, I was drunk, okay. I didn't think they'd actually read it," Canada admits regretfully, but the other countries aren't particularly interested in his excuses. England raises an eyebrow and throws in his two cents.
"Don't worry Canada. I'm sure forcing us all into a room together will eventually lead to world peace. It was an absolutely brilliant idea and you have nothing to be ashamed of," England says, oddly bright and cheery despite the lack of caffeine in his system.
Canada doesn't think he is serious, but his bleary eyes can't make out England very well. He rubs his eyes and squints. England is frowning, but England is always frowning.
"Wait . . . I'm too tired to tell if that was sarcasm or not," he says.
England sighs and presses his head against the table.
"Never mind," England mutters, staring into his empty tea cup longingly.
Again, America steps between him, and the rest of the resentful countries. Ah good, he has a human shield (or whatever, they are supposed to call themselves.)
"Leave Canada alone. If worst comes to worst, we may have to cook his bear to survive," he says. Canada blanches, still not fully grasping the situation at hand. Kumadejaneiro, on the other hand, understands completely and growls. America rubs his stomach and licks his lips tauntingly.
"Why can't we eat America first? We all know he's going to be the first to pass out anyway," Canada snaps. America steps away from him, utterly shocked. Great, he just lost his human shield. He needs that.
"Canada, how could you?"
Frankly, he is tired of being the voice of reason. Since they all turned against him already, he might as well be honest. No one will be eating his bear tonight if he can help it.
"I like the bear better than you," he says flatly. Sure, the bear forgot his name most of the time, but at least, he always realized he was there which was more than he could say about his brother, sadly.
America's eyes became watery and his lip starts to quiver. Ah geez, he didn't think he'd take it so personally. Instead of bursting into tears like he would have thought, America runs over to England and tugs his sleeve.
"England, Canada's being mean to me," he whines.
Canada watches on in mild fascination. Umm . . . he really must be tired if he is pulling that trick. Luckily, England, like everyone else in the room, doesn't give a damn right now. Canada doubted he would even care if Queen Elizabeth magically flew in on an umbrella right this second.
"Oh shut up, no one is going to eat you. Worse comes to worse, we'll beat you till candy comes out," England says. America stands there flabbergasted, eye twitching in disbelief, (serves him right for being a snitch.)
"Russia likes that plan," he says, raising his hand. And true to his word, his smile resonates with the untold malice that he will inflict on America for the sake of candy.
"That's right. America always has food on him," China says idly, preoccupied keeping what is left of his tea from England. Okay, so maybe, China is still sane, and England has certainly done worse for tea.
"We're saved," Japan says, sighing in relief, although he is also trying to steal what is left of China's tea. Canada is glad he finished his coffee two hours earlier instead of saving it. America probably would have punched him in the gut and taken it by now.
"Give me candy," Italy shouts, searching America's pockets only to come up empty handed. Italy stares at his empty hands, not fully comprehending what is happening.
"But America always has candy and crap," he sobs. Japan pats his back awkwardly.
"Oh shit, they aren't going to feed us are they?" America says, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. The same thing slowly dawns on the others. China is the first to speak up.
"America, why are you freaking out with the rest of us? "
"I didn't bring any food." They all circle America like a pack of vultures. Oh good, they have a new scapegoat. Just lay low Canada. You'll be the last one standing in no time.
"Dammit why? This is the one time where you being a fat ass would have been useful," England shouts, banging his fist on the table. America's eyebrow twitches, and for once, his smile is eerily forced like some creepy circus puppet. Canada hides behind Russia wearily ( momentarily getting over his fear of getting sat on again.) If there is one thing you don't want to call America when he's freaking tired, it's fat.
"Well, if you'd stop calling me a fat ass, we'd all be gorging on candy right now," America says, not so subtly snapping the table in half. Great, the table is the closest thing anyone has had to a bed since they've been locked up, and it was going to be his turn to sleep on it tonight. Still, he isn't about to bring it up while America is pissed, and no one else wants to either. Unfortunately, the filter on England's mouth is broken, and he's more than happy to piss off the country who just broke the table.
"Maybe, if you had invested in some windows in the first place, we wouldn't be in this mess."
"You want some stupid windows? I'll make some freaking windows," America says, smashing his fist into the dry wall. It crumbles, and America stares at his hand dumbly.
"Huh, hey guys, did we ever try punching the walls out China style?"
Everyone shakes their heads, and China face palms. After the initial awkward silence, the countries look more than happy to unleash untold destruction onto the walls. Canada raises his hand shyly.
"Before we form a demolition crew, how about we try to force the door open instead?"
Russia puts his pipe down and shrugs.
"Less work for, Russia."
One escape attempt later
Canada should really learn to keep his mouth shut. Whenever he opens his mouth, things never go his way. It's one thing being locked inside a windowless room by a bunch of humans the first time, escaping and ending in the same windowless room is even worse. At least, no one is blaming him for this one . . . yet.
"Okay, we're all tired, but all we have to do is sign a peace treaty, and we can get out of here, " England says, holding up the paper and pen. As reasonable as this sounds to Canada's tired brain, the rest of the countries are in far worse shape.
No one had taken the recapture well. England might still be acting rationally, but he has been far more snappish since they'd returned. At least, he wasn't slinging as many insults as Italy had since discovering there would be no pasta break. Canada wasn't sure how much longer he could stay positive in their current hostile environment. Japan was still shaking in the corner after being tasered by the guards. America had spent a good hour punching out the left wall only to reach a layer of cement and give up. He stopped making much sense after that. China at some point found his (cough) special stash and probably wasn't all there anymore. And Russia? Actually, Russia is the same as ever, but he hasn't helped the situation at all.
"I hate all of you," Italy answers flatly.
"That's nice and all Italy but we don't want pasta right now," America says in what Canada is sure he thought was a reasonable tone. And, it would have been if Italy had been talking about freaking pasta in the first place. Needless to say, Italy did not take America's babbling well
"But Italy wants to see you all destroyed in a fiery inferno. Why does no one believe Italy? Why?" Italy shouts in despair. Looking considerably more cross, America narrows his eyes. Oh, here we go again.
"I said I don't want any more damn pasta," he says, throwing half the broken table at Italy.
"Bring it on, fatty mc fat fat," Italy says, catching the broken table mid air.
"That's it. I will send you to the freaking moon. I own it. I can do that."
" Ignore him, he's out of his mind right now," England says, about ready to stab someone with a pen, ( probably America.)
" Shut up, at least, I'm not the one claiming to see flying green rabbits everywhere," America says, gesturing to the entire room. There are silent mutters of agreement. England's giant eyebrow twitches, but he remarkably manages to stay calm.
"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. Now, would everyone just sign the bloody document already," England says, shoving the peace treaty in America's face. Eh, he probably isn't the best country to start with, considering the circumstances.
"Whoops, you said bloody. Put a dollar in the swear jar" America says, swatting away the peace treaty like an annoying fly and picking up the jar from the floor.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," England says, covering his face with his hand. America continues to jingle the jar and hold it up to England's face. Unsurprisingly, no one wants to get involved, and many appear glad to get some free entertainment.
"You made me put two dollars in for freaking and hooey," he says, holding up two fingers, accidentally flipping off England in the process. Fortunately, England can't bring himself to care.
"Fine, just take a dollar out of the jar" England says tiredly. America happily reaches into the jar and retrieves his dollar. France stands up and points at England.
"You all saw him. He's taking bribes," he shouts.
"Shut up France. This doesn't concern you," he says, closing the jar.
" Russia stop trying to break down the door. They reinforced it the second time we got out," America shouts. Russia ignores him and rams into the door harder.
"I have an idea." They could really use a good one right about now.
"Canada, no. Your last idea sucked," America says, casually fighting to the death with Italy using the two broken halves of the table.
"Well, my escape plan worked until Russia dropped kicked that cop," Canada says.
"You couldn't hold your anger for one more second could you?" America says, parrying Italy's swing so he can stop and glare at Ivan.
"Russia doesn't see anyone else breaking down door," he says, glaring right back.
"Because it's useless, duh," America says, wrestling Italy down. Italy surrenders and scrambles away. Russia scoffs but looks back at the door doubtfully. Despite all his effort, the door hasn't budged. England speaks up.
"I vote we send Japan through the ceiling duct again."
Japan briefly stops rocking back and forth in the corner, looking sick.
"Please don't. "
"Besides, he didn't fit," France says, pointing to the open ceiling duct full of Japan's claw marks.
Canada sighs and looks through his pockets. Maybe, he can find a piece of gum or something to tide him over until they get out of here. Huh, he's such an idiot. How had he not checked his pockets earlier? Hopefully, everyone will be too relieved to care.
"I have a cell phone. We can call our bosses," Canada says, holding up his cell phone triumphantly. The response is underwhelming.
"Nobody cares Canada," America says, busy trying to stuff Japan into the ceiling duct again. They had to be freaking kidding.
"You know what fine, let's not do the simple thing and keep on hating each other. That'll will work out," Canada says sourly. Maybe, he'll mention the cell phone again when he is in a better mood.
"I hate you the most," Italy says, pointing at England. There literally is no reason for Italy to do so. Canada sighs. Even if he did manage to reach someone, he had the sinking feeling the others would sabotage him somehow. England miraculously isn't the least bit bothered by it.
"He's right. We can't turn on each other. The important thing is to get out of here," England says, patting Canada's back. Oh, apparently, England had heard him. Wait . . . he didn't hear the important part, did he?
"Is Russia the only one who heard Canada had a phone?"
" Everyone please just sign the freaking document. You don't even have to mean it," England says, retrieving the tattered document from the floor. Canada sighs and takes the paper from him. He might as well. No one is listening to him anyway.
"We're not stupid. Everyone knows whoever signs that is going to get screwed over" China says, fanning himself with a coffee cup coaster.
"He's right. I'll have to politely decline," Japan says finally drinking the last of China's tea. China is not pleased, but he seems to be consoling himself with the fact England didn't get to his tea first.
"Non, France looks after France, and nobody else," he says, nose upturned in the air. Dammit France. Fine. Forget everyone else. Canada is only saving himself. Still, maybe, the others just need a push in the right direction.
"I signed it. Maybe, if we all-"
"Nobody cares, Canada," America says, stacking his empty coffee cups on top of each other. Italy looks up at him from under the broken table and hisses. Yeah, he is so leaving all of them behind.
"The walls are closing in," Japan says, holding his head in his hands.
"We're doomed. Deal with it," Italy says.
"They didn't even leave us with cell phones," France says with a sigh. Oh for the love of maple syrup.
"But I-" Russia interrupts him.
"Actually, Canada has-"
"I have a feeling they didn't really think this through," England says.
"Wouldn't be the first time," Francis said, sporting a small smile. Yes, people are stupid. And at this point, Canada isn't going to bother pretending the other countries aren't, except for Russia, Japan, and maybe, America can be excused for already stepping into delirium. He dials his boss's phone number only to be automatically directed to voice mail. Sigh. He would call someone else, but Canada isn't sure who all knows where they are. Maybe, he can get a hold of America's boss or something?
"Don't know. Invisible man's plan seems pretty solid," America cuts in. And, maybe, everyone else would have finally realized he had a blasted cell phone if Italy hadn't opened his big mouth.
"Italy will eat you first."
"You, stop saying things. Nothing that comes out of your mouth is remotely helpful," England shouts, channeling all his frustration on the Italian. Veneziano points at him.
"Then, you're next."
"Seriously, someone give Italy a freaking candy bar," America says, seeming to have pulled himself together by drinking the leftover drops of coffee from the empty coffee cups.
"Or a bear claw," Francis says, keeping a lustful eye on Kumajinji.
"If you eat my bear, you're dead to me," Canada says.
"I raised you. You ungrateful bastard, just a little nibble," France says, trying to wrestle Kumanelli out of his grasp.
"No means no," Canada shouts. What the hell? Is no one going to help him?
"America has obviously gone crazy. Luckily, we are much more mature. Right Japan?" China says, squishing Japan's imaginary ears.
"I don't know what you are doing, but please stop," Japan says, holding his hands up nervously.
"Squish," China says, with a goofy smile on his face, (looks like China finally had time to dig into his stash, not good.)
"If anyone was still sane, we could have signed this damn peace treaty and gone home by now," England says, glaring daggers at everyone.
"Swear jar, you've cursed at least twice" America says, shaking the jar.
"I changed my mind. The swear jar was a stupid idea," England says, pushing the jar away from him. America gasps.
"You did something I didn't like. You're a dictator."
"America, you're acting like a child."
Meanwhile, Canada is fighting a losing battle. Thanks to the other countries taunts, he'd forgotten how strong France actually was. France had him pinned, and he could use a little help.
"Why is no one worried that France is trying to eat Kumajiro?" he asks desperately.
Kumagenenji peeks his head out from the other half of the fallen table, eyes as huge as saucers.
"Help me."
"He'll be fine. Nothing every bad happens to you," America says, tapping the empty coffee cups in case any more bits of caffeine fell out. Gah, is he really using that old excuse? By redirecting his new found rage at France, Canada manages to push him off and pick up his bear.
"You're all assholes," he says, making the unclaimed broken half of the table his new hideout.
"That's what Italy has been saying all along."
"Speaking of bad things, China is violating my personal space," Japan says, raising his hand to get everyone's attention. All China is really doing is touching the air around him, but Canada can tell he must be really tripping.
"Squish, squish," China says happily.
"How long have we been in here?" he says suddenly, completely spaced.
Meanwhile, America has gotten a hold of the discarded treaty and has read through it. Canada recognizes the look on his face. The damn idiot is going to try and "improve it."
"Obviously this treaty is a load of shit. Let's start again," he says, taking out a piece of paper and pen from his coat pocket. Canada missed the days when his pockets were full of candy. What's happening now is only prolonging his suffering.
"No one here is in their right minds. Anything we come up with now will be absolute garbage," England says, desperately trying to hold onto his thin grasp on sanity.
"Speak for yourself, I'm perfectly America." Huh . . . the caffeine must be wearing off.
"Russia is also fine," he says, with a smirk.
"China's cool with whatever."
"See, we have a blank check to write whatever we want," America says, writing out "word peace treaty" in big block letters.
"I have a bad feeling about this," England says, but by now, everyone has learned to tune him out.
"How about we start with no bear eating?" Canada cuts in, not above benefiting from the madness.
"That's discriminatory to bear eaters," France complains. America dismisses him with a wave and writes it down anyway.
"No one cares France. Next," he says. Russia raises his hand.
"Can we make our national flower the sunflower?"
America shrugs and adds it to the list.
"I thought you were going to go for a land grab but sure whatever floats your boat," America says. It's the happiest Canada has ever seen Russia during a meeting.
"I don't like sunflowers," Italy says from his half of the table.
"No one asked you Italy," America says.
"Italy hates you the most."
"You already said that about England. It can't be both," America says reasonably.
"Italy's cranky. He changes his mind a lot."
"These are all horrible decisions," England says. Canada shoots him a look. He considers not eating his bear a good decision, and he didn't appreciate England possibly making them reconsider that idea.
"England is no longer allowed to talk," America says, adding it to the new treaty.
"Seconded," France says.
"Thirded" Canada says.
"Fourthed" Russia says.
"All hail the new peace treaty," Italy shouts.
Japan is too busy fending off China to participate, and the word "Shinatty-chan" is being tossed around a lot. No one seems all that concerned by China's questionable grip on reality.
"See, we just needed to talk this out," America says. This seems to get China's attention, and Canada can't help but be worried. He needs to do something quick before things get even more out of hand. Calling their bosses isn't working, but maybe, he can reach one of the other countries. According to the old treaty, Germany was in the room with them at some point. He should know where they are.
"China wants more kitties in the world."
"Sure, it's not like we have a ton of strays already," America says, and again, Canada isn't sure if he is being sarcastic or not. Either way, China gets the message.
"You're right. We should steal them from Greece," China says, and while Canada doesn't like the sound of that, he's in the middle of a very important phone call.
"So, it's decided. We're declaring war on Greece," America says, moving an empty coffee cup over to Greece on the map. He writes the words "space ninjas" on it.
"You can't be serious," England says.
"Oh I am. You don't lie to the guy that makes your underwear," America says. China nods.
"I want my art back from France," Italy jumps in.
"Okay, we'll declare war on France,"America says, adding another empty coffee cup to the map. Canada winces but doesn't butt in. England is concerned enough for the both of them.
"Francis please remember that no one here has slept in eaten in over a week, and we no longer have coffee or tea to make up for that," England says, getting between France and America.
" If we should declare war on anyone, it should be Russia," France says, also not above taking advantage of the current madness. Ivan is visibly upset.
"But Russia did nothing."
America surprisingly doesn't jump on board the "we hate Russia train."
"Nah, I owe him a solid. He saved me from chocking last week while you all fucking watched," he says, glaring at everyone else. They all shift uncomfortably while Canada hangs up the phone and hides under his half of the table.
"Italy panics easily."
"I thought someone else would help," Japan says, looking a little ashamed.
"Same," Canada says, similarly disappointed in himself. He was normally better in those situations, but he'd been too tired to react properly.
"Too much effort," France says. Canada is starting to wonder if France is an undiagnosed sociopath.
"China demands we go back to the war on kittens."
"Three dollars in the swear jar for using a real curse word," England says, shaking the jar. America gives him an incredulous look. England hasn't exactly been playing fair when it comes to the swear jar.
"Bullshit," he says defiantly. England remains calm and holds up two fingers.
"Two dollars."
"But- okay, here," he says, adding two dollars to the pile.
"So anyway, we declared war on kittens for . . . some reason," America says, clearly aware that what he said isn't quite right.
"America go to sleep. You're drunk," France says, giggling like a school girl.
"Pshht, everyone knows England is the drunkard," America says, grabbing England by the shoulder. England sighs.
"Lucky for you, I need your signature on this accursed thing, or I wouldn't hesitate to strangle you to death," he says honestly.
"Hah, you need me," America says, poking his nose.
"Don't provoke him," Canada says. His warning comes far too late.
"Chair fight," America says.
"You idiot, you'll give me a concussion if you swing that around," England says, dodging.
"For Italia." Italy says, smashing a chair over America's head. He turns around, a malevolent glint in his eye.
"Oh it's on."
China gets an epiphany.
" You were always the panda weren't you?"
" Da," Russia says.
"I'm sad now," China says, head hanging low.
"You want to go back to squishing my fake ears?" Japan offers.
"The moment is gone, Japan."
"Guys, cheer up, I called Germany. He should be here soon," Canada says. Russia nods, but this news is new to China and Japan.
"You had a phone all along and you didn't say anything?" Japan says, about ready to karate chop him on the head.
"I tried to," Canada says defensively, sounding more like a child than he'd like.
"He did," Russia says, making Japan back off.
"I guess it's been hectic for all of us," Japan admits.
"It certainly has. I'm starving," China says, taking out his lunch from under his Yukata.
"China, you had food?" Japan says.
They all look at China in disbelief. He crosses his arm and huffs.
"I was saving it until after we ate America," China says as if that were perfectly acceptable, and it apparently is to everyone else around him.
"I guess that is reasonable," Russia says.
" We all have our limits," Japan says, helping himself to China's orange chicken.
"Stop it, can't you see we're all turning into monsters?" Canada says, freaked out by what's happening to them all.
"Chicken?" China asks. Canada looks at the countries beating the shit out of each other with chairs and decides he'd rather be friends with the people with chicken.
"Sure. So, we aren't going to stop the morons from chair fighting?" he asks.
"This is more important," Russia says.
One delicious chicken later
"Hello? Canada said you were stuck here. Is everyone all right?" Germany asks, opening the front door easily. Italy, America, and England stop swinging chairs at each other.
"Dude, Germany, how did you escape? I seriously thought I had imagined you being here," America says.
"There's a back door. It's unlocked," Germany says, pointing behind them. Everyone looks at the backdoor dumbfounded. Canada blames lack of sleep for not noticing earlier.
"Why the hell didn't you mention that when I called you?" Canada shouts anyway.
"I thought you knew. How else would have I escaped?" Germany says. Canada wants to cry. His bear almost got eaten, he betrayed his family for chicken, and there was an unlocked door the whole time.
"Well, I feel stupid. Let's bail. Anyone up for Mc Donald's?" America says cheerfully.
"I'm getting as far away from all of you as possible," England says, silently thanking Germany on his way out.
"Same here," France says, flipping his hair for dramatic effect.
"Russia is indifferent to America's presence."
"So, you coming or not dude?"
"Eh, why not? Always room for more," Russia says. Canada's eyes dart back and forth nervously. He's not really hungry, but he doesn't want to get caught.
"What's that supposed to mean?" America asks.
"Oh, Canada knows," Russia says. He wouldn't.
"You wanted to say something to me, bro?"
"Umm . . . let's get some Mc Donald's?" Canada kind of hates himself for chickening out, but America is none the wiser.
"What about you two?"
Japan and China look at each other.
"I will have to decline. My hotel bed is waiting for me," Japan says.
"China could use some rest too. I'm baked."
Canada tries hard not to laugh but doesn't succeed. Luckily, no one pays him any attention.
"Heh, I think you mean fried," America says.
"No, I mean baked."
"Yeah, I'm pretending I didn't hear that cuz I'm hungry. Hey Italy, I know we had that chair fight, and I almost gauged your eye out but-"
"Italy, never wants to see any of you again. Oh, hi Germany, want to go out for pasta?"
"Uh . . . sure, I haven't had pasta in a while."
"You left Italy behind."
"I left you a note."
"Italy, there is a back door. Use if dummkopft. Aww, you do care," Italy says, hugging Germany. They leave together, and after a brief pause, America shrugs.
"Okay, so, Italy's out. Let's get the hell out of here."
And so, no one got any closer to world peace, but they no longer mocked America carrying extra food with him everywhere and started doing the same. Oh and Canada vowed never to get drunk again, and he lasted a whole week before visiting Scotland.
I needed a break from my main stories after everything. So, I wrote this one shot. It's meant to be ridiculous and over the top like The Quiz. Because I have a feeling someone will mention it, yes, America does not own the moon. He was really out of it when he said it. Enjoy.