Hey guys! Inspiration struck and I just had to write this. In case you hadn't gathered from the description, this is not slash (unusually for me!). This fic is jointly dedicated to my two very good friends Italy and Russia (you know who you are!) who have been pestering me to write this for ages. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own neither Doctor Who or Hetalia. If I did, Jack would be a permanent fixture in the TARDIS, and Germany would walk around semi-nude :)
"England!"
Blearily, the tired nation opened his eyes and gave a start when he realised he was sprawled across the sofa in America's drawing room. The last thing he remembered was telling America to go to bed whilst writing a memorandum to France about that owed bottle of whiskey…
"Iggy-san!"
England's brief reverie was broken by what felt like a small elephant landing on his chest.
"Iggy, I had a bad dream that I was being chased through a tunnel, but then it wasn't a tunnel, it was a pit full of snakes and creepy-crawlies and I was stuck and there was no food and I was alone and I was shouting but no-one was coming and-and-"
Oh. Not an elephant. America. England held the young nation as he burst into tears, instantly awoken by the sight of the child crying in front of him.
"There, America, it's alright, I'm here now; it was just a nightmare. It wasn't real; it's alright."
America's sobs reduced to sniffs, and England tried not to wince as the boy wiped his nose on the elder nation's bespoke suit.
"I tell you what, why don't I tell you a story? That should take your mind off your dream, and maybe then you'll be able to get some sleep, and I can finish my letter to France and get that bottle…"
America stopped sniffing and looked up at England with big, excited eyes, all terrors forgotten.
"What kind of story?"
"A happy story, of course! Hmm… let's see… aha! Once upon a time-"
The nation was interrupted by a tugging on his sleeve.
"Iggy-san, if you're going to tell me a bedtime story, can I have some warm milk and cookies?"
"They're biscuits, America, not cookies, and I suppose so."
Snacks and beverages retrieved from the kitchen, England followed the scampering boy upstairs to his hardly modest bedroom. He sat down on the bed beside the younger nation, who took a large gulp of milk and burrowed under his blankets.
"Now then, where was I? Ah yes, once upon a time…"
America sat up slightly, chin in hands, ready to hear another of England's imaginative tales.
"Once upon a time, there was a planet, far, far away from our own, and the people who lived there called it Gallifrey."
"Was it like Earth?"
"A bit like it, yes. It had mountains and seas, like our planet, but the grass there was orange, and the silver leaves glinted in the light from the two golden suns. The people were different too; they called themselves Time Lords, and were very powerful. They could travel through all of time and space, but swore never to interfere with the other people and planets in the multiverse."
"Multiverse?"
"A group of lots of different universes, each with its own galaxies and planets. So, even though the Time Lords could really do as they pleased, they were content to simply observe creation from where they were."
"That's boring! If you could do all that cool stuff, why would you just sit around and do nothing? I wouldn't!"
"I'm aware of that, America. The Time Lords were very clever, though, and thought that it was best not interfere, so they stayed as they were."
"This is a rubbish story! Where's all the adventure and stuff?"
"I'm getting to that. There was a boy who lived on Gallifrey, and when he looked up at the stars and the cosmos, he knew that he didn't just want to look at them from down on the ground. He wanted to go out there, to see the stars and the planets and the aliens and everything else for himself. So he vowed, one day, to run away."
"And did he?"
"Yes. He stole a TARDIS-"
"A whats-it?"
"A TARDIS; a ship that can travel in both space and time. Anyway, he took his TARDIS, and left Gallifrey far behind. He travelled all around the universe, and saw things you wouldn't believe."
"What things?"
"Well, let me see… There were Judoon, space-police that looked like rhinoceroses, the honeymoon planet that married an asteroid, little people made from fat known as Adipose, the planet Barcelona where the dogs have no noses…"
"That sounds so cool!"
"There were bad things as well, though. Cybernetic suits with human brains inside, terrible mutants in robotic casings who would destroy anything that wasn't like themselves; even another Time Lord who went around causing trouble on a universal scale. But the man, known as the Doctor, would always find a way to save the day."
"But didn't he get lonely, doing stuff all by himself?"
"No. He always had companions; friends who would travel with him for a while, never staying for too long."
America yawned. "Why'd they leave?"
"For many different reasons. Some had responsibilities back on their home planets. Some found something else to do, inspired by the Doctor and those whom they'd met on their travels. But a few spent the rest of their lives in the TARDIS, for a Time Lord can live for many hundreds of years; far longer, even, than a lot of nations."
"Cool." America's eyelids began to droop, and he snuggled further into his blankets, burying his nose in the soft fur of his toy bunny rabbit.
England reached down and gently ruffled the boy's hair.
"But know this about the Doctor. He might be an alien who has lived many different lives, but his hearts are pure. He never carries a gun, or a sword, or any other weapon; in fact, he abhors violence of any kind. He is cleverer and wiser than any other man is, or ever could be. To him, all life is precious. He would walk onto a battlefield to comfort a small child, no matter who they may be, or what side they are on. He will always try to save everyone, even those who have done wrong."
The younger nation's breathing slowed, and England softly smiled.
"Always remember, America, that no matter what you do, or where you go, or what you believe in, there's always someone to comfort you, or to save you from the terrors of the night. And that those who truly love you will never stop. No matter what."
England carefully got up from the bed, and quietly, so as not to wake the sleeping boy, took the empty glasses from the bedside table. Before he left the room, he looked back at the little boy, all curled up under the covers, and hoped that, even when the nation was all grown up with his own unrivalled power, he would remember the story of the kind man and his blue box.
As England shut the bedroom door behind him, America dreamed not of food, or of power, or of freedom.
He dreamed of the stars.