Yooo, Happy St. George's day everyone, and Happy Birthday England! This is just a little one-shot I was writing yesterday and when I finsihed it today I realised it was St. George's day so I figured I might as well post it for England's birthday.
Disclaimer: Unfortuntely, I do not own Hetalia in any way shape or form. That privilege belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya alone •^_^•
France shivered, hurrying up the path as fast as he could without slipping. Cars rushed by, and the nation had to dodge the slush that tried to splash him more than once, but managed to make it home mostly dry.
Stepping through the door, he spotted a small pile of letters and cards on the ground, smiling as he recognised the handwriting on one envelope in particular.
He tucked the rest of the mail under his arm as he walked through into the lounge, opening the letter as he went.
'Dearest Papa,' it read. 'I'm afraid I won't be able to make Christmas Day this year, but we could spend New Year together? I hope you're doing well...'
After reading the first sentence, France skimmed the rest, smiling at the mention of America's antics and England's subsequent annoyance.
"Hmm, I wonder what plans he has this year. He almost always comes over, even if only for a few hours..." He wondered aloud. "Maybe I should invite Spain and Prussia, if they aren't too busy with Germany and Romano." The blonde nation wondered into the kitchen and begin fixing dinner, relaxing in the quiet, peaceful atmosphere.
—
Over at England's house, peaceful was not a word that could be used to describe what was happening. Nor was quiet.
"Oi! Stick that one in this corner!" A heavily accented Australian voice yelled, and a Christmas tree walked itself over to the other side of the entrance hall. Rather, America carried a Christmas tree four times his size to the other side of the hall, rendered completely invisible through its thick branches.
"Alright, my dudes! Now we've got them all in place, there's only one thing left to do!" He yelled triumphantly, patting the tree next to him as he extricated himself from its leaves.
"You say that like its so simple, mate..." Australia groaned. "Its gonna take hours to sort all this!"
"Now, don't be like that," New Zealand said, walking into the room with a tray of mince pies. "If we all help out, it should only take an hour or two."
Australia and America all but leapt at the food New Zealand brought with him, the latter having the sense to release it when the other two nations descended.
The door creaked open, and everyone looked up to see who it was.
"Hi everyone, sorry I'm late," Canada whispered, clutching his polar bear to his chest.
"Yo, Mattie!" America grinned. "Don't worry, you're just in time to help with the decorating."
The Canadian's face lit up - this was probably his favourite part of Christmas.
"Come on, you jerks, if we don't start soon, he'll get back before we're done!" Sealand yelled, dragging a box bigger than himself into the room. By the sound of rattling, it was full of baubles and other decorations.
"He's right, for once," Wy added, following her fellow micronation. She too had a box of decorations to hang, but hers was a more sensible size.
"Well then, what are we waiting for?!" India strode in, smiling widely, followed by a more restrained Hong Kong. "Let's do this thing!"
With their combined strength, America's especially, and Canada and Wy's eye for style, the bare, boring trees were soon transformed into colourful, glittering masterpieces.
Of course, the nations didn't stop there. Lights and tinsel were wound down each bannister, and surrounded every photo frame in the house. The fireplaces were topped with cheerful figurines and yet more tinsel, and mistletoe hung from every nook and cranny. To top it all off, there were thirteen stockings hung above the main fireplace, each one with a name carefully embroidered on it.
When they were finally finished, the nations collapsed in the lounge, munching on cookies as they waited.
"That looked like pretty hard work," a voice called from the doorway. "But it was worth it! Everything looks amazing."
When those not too tired turned to look, they groaned, seeing Seychelles standing in the doorway.
"Not now," Australia mumbled. "Too tired."
Everyone else agreed. They loved her to pieces, but she could be a bit...much sometimes. No, they could do without her enthusiasm right now, especially given the state they were in.
"Oh, shush you!" She giggled. "Wait, wasn't there something I was supposed to say? Oh! He's almost back now, in fact he should be pulling up any second-"
She was cut off by the sound of crunching gravel, and all tiredness was suddenly forgotten as every nation and micronation in the room jumped up and ran back into the entrance hall.
When the door opened, and five figures walked into the darkness, America flipped the light switch, greeting them with a loud 'SURPRISE!'
England looked, dazed as he took in the sight of his former colonies and territories standing in the middle of a heavily decorated hall, and smiled.
"E-eh? Weren't you all busy this year?" He asked, happy but still slightly confused.
America laughed loudly. "It was all part of my-"
"-our." Hong Kong glared at him.
"-our master plan!" He exclaimed.
"We wanted to be together on Christmas for once," Canada whispered. "I mean, we all get too see you and each other, but almost never at the same time."
"Thank you all. This is honestly the best Christmas present I could ever-" England's response was cut off by a sharp prod to his shoulder.
"Sorry to screw this touching moment up, but where's your loo, laddie? Because I've got about thirty seconds before all that bloody whisky comes straight out the other end!" Scotland boomed.
England sighed and pointed to a set of doors. "Through there, first door on your left."
"Cheers, wee bairn!" The Scot yelled, sprinting off.
The silence was broken by Seychelle's giggle. "I'll never understand how Uncle Alistair can drink whiskey like it's water!"
England's other brothers burst into laughter. "Got a point there, Shelly! Come give Uncle Seamus a hug!"
This broke the dam, so to speak, as all of England's ex-colonies and territories rushed forward.
"Aww, little Mattie is so big now!" Ireland gushed, grinning as she squished the other nation's cheeks. America was receiving similar treatment from North, along with Australia.
New Zealand was already engaged in a serious-looking conversation with Wales, but anyone close enough could hear that all they were talking about was sheep, and England was being passed from nation to nation, looking rather dazed.
"Oi! Shut it!" A loud voice yelled, and the noise suddenly stopped. "I know everybody's right happy tae see their 'mummy'," he sent a wink at England with that comment, the other just rolling his eyes, "uncles an' aunt but it's getting damn late an' we wan' tae be up early on Christmas tae get the best out o' the day. So off to bed wi' all o' ya! Rooms are where they've always been, but sleep where ye want." With that, Scotland joined his siblings as the younger nations trudged upstairs.
"Well, Iggy, what do ye think?" He grinned at his youngest brother.
England narrowed his eyes at him in suspicion, before realising who exactly had helped his ex-colonies and territories set this all up. "You! You bloody Scottish bastard! You put them up to this! You...c'mere!" He cried, throwing his arms around his eldest brother, who laughed and returned the hug.
"Yer welcome, laddie. Merry Christmas," Scotland replied warmly, willing to let his 'strong, manly-man' front down for the moment.
"Group hug!" Ireland cried, and soon England was choking up for a reason other than happy tears.
"Get...get off me...you...gits," he gasped. "Can't...br...eathe..."
Finally he was released, and gulped in air desperately, scowling at his siblings, though it was a rather half-hearted attempt.
"Let's head up as well, Iggy. We've got a big day ahead of us, full of surprises!" Scotland started to cackle, and for a moment England worried for everyone's health. Given that everyone was in one place together, though, nothing could be expected to go smoothly, so he figured it would probably be better to brush this under the rug for now...
—
"Hmm, I wonder where ma petite Michelle went in such a hurry this evening..." France wondered aloud again, swirling the wine in his glass. "It is a shame she couldn't come over tomorrow, but at least I saw her today. I do wish she'd stayed for dinner, though," he sighed. "Oh well. Can't be helped. Good thing Gilbert's brother has plans tomorrow anyway so I won't be lonely tomorrow." He grinned wildly at the thought of all the mischief they could stir up. "And Tonio said his little Lovi was spending the day with his brother. Hmm..." The blonde started making plans on what exactly he could do, his grin growing with each thought. "Oh, this will be très bien!"
—
England yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. It was only then that he became aware of the pressure on his legs, and looked down to find Wales curled up there, sleeping as calmly as his sheep in the corner. Looking around only confirmed England's suspicions as he saw Ireland and North taking up half his bed whilst he was pressed against Scotland, but he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed right now.
He shifted so he could see the alarm clock from where he lay, eyebrows rising with surprise as he saw the blinking numbers.
"Seven o'clock..." He murmured. "I wonder where Sealand is. Normally the little bugger wakes me up earlier than this."
Sighing peacefully, the blonde set his head back on the pillow, perfectly happy for a few more minutes peace.
All of a sudden, the door burst open, and not one, or two, or even three, but all of his ex-colonies and territories jumped onto the bed, waking jot only him but all his siblings, and nearly crushing poor Wales, whose sheep started bleating in distress.
"Iggy! Iggy! Wake up, it's Christmaaaas!" America yelled, eyes sparkling like an overexcited child. Oh wait...he was one!
England groaned in unison with his siblings as they tried to extricate themselves from the mass of entangled limbs.
"Ooh, ooh, can I show him the extra-special surprise yet? Pleeeease!" Asked Sealand, turning his puppy-dog eyes to Scotland.
"Eh, they're already here? Okay then, laddie, go ahead," he said, eliciting a squeal from the micronation.
"You can come in now, guys!" He yelled, and two more people walked through the door, two that England had never dared dream would show up.
"A-ah, guten morgen, England. Merry Christmas," a slightly flustered Germany greeted.
"Don't be so uptight, 'Luddy'," Denmark teased. "Yo Arthur, long time no see, buddy!"
England smiled. "I-uh-what are you doing here?!" He asked. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but..."
"Heh, Scottie asked us, said we were having a little family get together on Christmas. I know, I know, we aren't technically family, but genetically speaking most of your people have our DNA, whether it's one or both. I guess I kinda see you as a brother of sorts. Or a son," he teased, drawing giggles from some of the younger nations.
"That would make you Grandpa Denmark," England teased back, gesturing at his 'kids'. "And Germany your wife."
The German looked personally insulted by this. "Excuse me? I would definitely be the husband, und besides, this isn't some crack-fic England."
"Wow, you know about fanfiction?!" Sealand gasped, suddenly finding a new favourite uncle.
"Can everybody focus!" Wy huffed, putting her small hands on her hips dramatically. "I want to go open presents!"
Sealand sniggered. "And you say I'm such a kid!"
"Uh, that's because you are..." She replied with a straight face.
"So are you!" Sealand laughed, Australia joining in.
"Aww, c'mon mates lets get downstairs and open those prezzies!" The Aussie yelled, sprinting out of the room, closely followed by America.
"I think we can all agree that those two are the biggest kids of all..." Canada murmured, England nodding his head.
"Anyhow, we should be getting down there, time's-a-wasting!" Wales said cheerfully.
Eventually, after Scotland having physically dragged England out of bed, they all made their way into the lounge.
England gaped at the enormous pile of presents surrounding the tree.
"When...how...did you do all of this?" He asked, eyes still wide from shock.
"Heh, we have our ways, wee brother," Scotland replied with a smirk.
"...thank you," England said grudgingly - his relationship with his eldest brother was anything but simple, but they did love each other deep down. Very, very deep down.
"Bring it in, laddie!" The Scot bellowed, wrapping his arms around his youngest brother. Soon, they were the centre of the biggest group hug England had ever experienced.
"Love you guys..." He muttered, face red.
"Aww, we love ya too, Iggy! Now, presents!" America said, springing towards the pile.
In record time, he managed to divide up everyone's gifts, and was soon ripping the paper off of his own.
The room was soon filled with gasps of surprise and amazement - being nations, none of them had a shortage of money, so price was absolutely no object.
America was brandishing his shiny new jetpack like a weapon, waving it in everyone's faces, whilst hiding his gift from his 'mum' - two behind the scenes tickets for him and Russia to visit NASA headquarters. He had blushed bright red at this, not realising that anyone, let alone England, was aware of their relationship.
"You're absolutely awful at hiding things, lad." Had been his only response to an embarrassed America.
Canada smiled warmly down at his newest hockey stick, signed by all his favourite players - a gift from Australia, who had some sort of sixth sense for gift-buying.
Both New Zealand and Wales were surrounded sheep plushies, but Wales had a good deal of dragons as well, including one that 'breathed' actual fire if you pressed a button on its head. That was one of America's gifts.
Even Denmark and Germany got presents from each nation and micronation, everyone having known beforehand that they were coming (except for England, but he had bought gifts for them anyway, hoping to drop by at some point in the holidays).
By the time everyone had finished unwrapping their gifts, it was nearin lunch time, and a delicious scent wafted through the house.
Seychelles and Hong Kong were in the kitchen, finishing up with Christmas lunch, whilst Canada struggled with the enormous plate of pancakes he was carrying into the lounge.
The nations, not actually realising how hungry they were until they smelt the food, pounced on the pancakes, and within a matter of seconds, they were all gone.
About twenty minutes later, lunch was finally ready, and America led the charge to the dining room.
The table was piled high with all manner of dishes - from traditional English fare to Chinese cuisine and even Indian curries.
Every nation helped the,selves to their own food, and a little bit of everyone else's, soon happily watching Denmark and America engage in a 'who can eat the hottest curry' competition.
"Ah, what idiots," England said, and if anyone ever asked, who would completely and utterly deny having let any fondness leak into that statement.
"Yo, mum," Hong Kong interrupted his thoughts. England turned to see all of his ex-colonies and territories staring at him. "This is your final present." He held out a large, white envelope.
England opened it up, seeing a gaudy, glittery Christ,as card depicting Santa riding across the rooftops. He opened the card, gasping when he saw what was in there. "You-you-how...I love you all so much!" He gasped, eyes filling with tears of joy as he hugged the card to his chest.
Denmark and Germany moved so they could peak over his shoulders, being the only ones not knowing about the card.
Written inside was a message from each nation, each territory Engalnd had every been in charge of, wishing him a Merry Christmas. There were names in there he had never thought he would see, nations he had thought despised him for once possessing them.
England suddenly threw his arms around Hong Kong, almost throwing the shorter nation off balance. "Thank you so much. You're the best kids anyone could wish for. All of you," he said, smiling at his 'children'.
There was a chorus of "YOU'RE WELCOME, MUM!" For once, however, England didn't mind the name, accepting that maybe he was a bit of a mother hen to them. It felt like more of an honour than anything for all these amazing nations to consider him their mother. Although being their father would have been less embarrassing...
—
Later that day, the party was well underway, with almost half the house completely wasted. Wales was the designated 'alcohol cop' as America had dubbed it, and was making sure none of the kids managed to get their hands on something they shouldn't.
In one corner, Scotland was arm-wrestling with Canada, the younger nation having lost any shyness in his drunken state, as he gradually pushed his uncle's arm down, much to the Scot's surprise and dismay.
In another corner, Sealand an Wy were playing go fish with Australia, dealing with the frustration they felt from not being allowed alcohol by wringing their pseudo-brother for every penny he was worth, as the staggering Aussie had no idea what was going on.
In yet another corner, Germany and England were drunkenly singing, Denmark flitting around and taking pictures, jibing the two about mother-son bonding time, but they were too far gone to care.
In other words, everyone was having a pretty good time, and the whole day had been going great so far...
Until America decided to break out the old bottle for Truth or Dare.
And when England was asked who he would most like to fuck, he answered "France".
At this drunken declaration, the room went deadly silent. Even with everyone bar the kids as wasted as they were, nobody could ever be that far gone.
As the game went on, everybody recovered from their mum/brother's statement, but when it came to England's turn once again, it was Scotland who was elected to choose a dare for him.
"I dare ye tae profess yer undying love tae France - face tae face," he said with glee.
England looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. "Sh-shure. I'll be back shoon," he slurred, stumbling towards the door.
Scotland's eyes widened. "Ach, I was just kidding Iggy. Sit back down."
"N-no. I'll shee ya lat'r," he mumbled, before pitching face-first into the floorboards with a loud snore.
Scotland stumbled over to him, alcohol weighing his limbs down. "Iggy? Ye alright, wee bairn?"
"Mmm, France...yes..." He moaned, and Scotland flushed bright red.
"I think I'd better get ye up tae bed now," he declared, lifting his brother over one shoulder and carrying him upstairs.
Somewhere in Southern France, the nation in question sneezed mid-laugh, frowning afterwards.
"Heyyy, y'know what they say about that shit in Japan right," Prussia slurred. France looked at him oddly.
"Yeah, amigo, they say you sneeze when someone somewhere is talking 'bout you," Spain giggled.
France raised an eyebrow. "How ridiculous," he snorted.
So just for reference, the nations/micronations at England's house were:
America
Australia
Canada
Denmark
Germany
Hong Kong
India
Ireland
New Zealand
Northern Ireland
Scotland
Sealand
Seychelles
Wales
Wy