Hell is Inside Your Head Chapter 1: Prologue, a hetalia - axis powers fanfic

A/N: Aaaaand I'm back into Hetalia again. Curse you Paint It White. Curse you.

Alright, so a few warnings: This story contains yaoi, some language, insanity (both the hilarious kind and the disturbing kind), odd references, m-preg (don't kill me), fake provinces (for story purposes), human names, and Russia.

Disclaimer: I am not Hidekaz Himaruya, nor do I work for FUNimation, though that would be awesome.

CHAPTER 1: Prologue

August 31, 20XX

"YOU'RE WHAT?" France, Britain, and America yelled, startling the normally unnoticed Canadian.

"I'm… um… s-strange as it sounds, p-pregnant. W-With Russia's child."

"H-HOW? I mean, not that I'm not happy for you, little bro, but you're a dude! Dudes don't have kids, 'cept in The Sims 2!"

Canada sighed. "Alfred, do you remember when we were colonies and you tested out some of Britain's magic spells on me?"

The boisterous American nodded. "Yeah, but what does… oh."

Arthur groaned and slapped his hand to his forehead. "Bloody hell, America, you cast that spell on him? That spell is dangerous, and it can do serious damage!"

"I was a kid! How was I supposed to know that that spell can give a guy the ability to get knocked up?"

"Excusez-moi, while I 'ate to interrupt your little argument, I'm afraid zat we may 'ave a problem. I think Russia may be dead!"

Indeed, the normally fearless nation had seemed to enter a sort of trance upon Matthew's first announcement of his pregnancy.

"O-Oh, dear…" The quiet nation stepped up to the taller nation, placing both of his hands on opposite sides of Ivan's face. "I-Ivan, honey, are you okay? Ivan… Ivan… IVAN!"

The sandy-haired nation seemed to snap out of his trance. "Matvey… you…"

"I-I know. I'm really sorry, Ivan. I understand completely if you don't want to do this with me."

"Wait, what?" Russia asked, sounding confused.

Matthew looked at his feet. "I-Ivan… If you want to break up with me, that's fine. I mean, who'd want a guy who's knocked up, right?" A tear ran down the blonde man's cheek. "A-Ah, sorry. J-Just… Just say it and you can-"

The larger nation had heard enough. Ivan pulled the smaller nation to his chest and planted a light kiss on Canada's lips, effectively shutting his boyfriend up.

"Ah, 'ow sweet! To be young and in l'amour… Well, not really young, but you get what I mean." France said, pulling a rose from out of nowhere.

"Ugh, gag me with a spoon." America grumbled, turning his gaze from the sight of his brother kissing his former political rival. Really, the only reason he tolerated Russia was because he didn't want Matthew to beat him up again. Getting his ass beaten by a wooden paddle with a maple leaf on it one time was enough, thank you very much.

Britain smacked his former colony upside the head. "Shut your trap and be happy for your little brother, you git."

Meanwhile, the couple had broken their kiss. Ivan placed his hands on Matthew's shoulders and looked at him, a serious expression on his face.

"Matvey, listen to me and listen to me well. I will never, under any circumstances, ever leave you. Not now, not ever. You are most important person in the entire world to me, and nothing will ever change that. Do you understand?"

Shaken, the blonde nation nodded, tears still in his eyes.

"Good. Люблю тебя, Matvey."

"J-Je t'aime aussi, Ivan."

… Around nine months later…

May 15, 20XX

Russia sighed. Though he knew it was part of his duty as a country, he detested meetings with his nation's leaders. Although, unlike certain other nations (*coughAMERICAcough*), he at least had the decency to keep this to himself. Still, he'd much rather be with his darling Canada at that time. His due date was quickly approaching, and he couldn't bear the thought of Matthew going through the pain and terror of labor alone. Even with Canada telling him it wasn't his fault, Ivan still blamed himself for the state of Matthew's non-existent uterus. Then he chastised himself for thinking it was all his fault, because he blamed himself for far too many things lately. Then he chastised himself again for trying to shrug off the blame, because it was also partially his fault still. Thus, there was much chastising and very little paying attention to the meeting going on in Ivan's mind when an aide walked in holding a phone.

"Mr. Braginski?"

Russia snapped out of his inner blame-fest and looked over at the young lady. "Ah! Yes?"

"I'm very sorry to interrupt, but there is a man on the phone. He says his name is Francis Bonnefoy, and he is calling from Canada." The aide blushed slightly. "He also said I have a very sexy voice."

Ivan's boss sighed. "Be quick, Braginski, we still have a lot to discuss."

Russia nodded and took the phone. "Yes, this is Ivan Braginski. What is it, Francis?"

"Ah, Russia. I'm very zorry, I know you are at a meeting, but I thought you would like to know zat mon petit Mathieu is in the 'ospital."

Russia's eyes widened, his grip tightening on the phone. "M-Matvey? What is wrong with him?"

"Well, nothing, but 'e 'as gone into labor, and-

"WHAT? Francis, where are you? TELL ME NOW!"

Francis quickly relayed the address of the hospital to the panicking nation. "So far nothing 'as 'appened. Britain and I are waiting outside of the room and America went to ze gift shop for some reason."

"I'll be right there." Russia stated just before hanging up. "I'm leaving now." Russia said, getting out of his seat and heading for the door.

Russia's boss stood up. "Wait a moment, Braginski! You can't just-"

Ivan turned to the man. His normally violet-red eyes looked redder with the murderous tint in them, and a purple, angry aura radiated out of him. "I said, 'I'm leaving now'."

Terrified, his boss returned to his seat. "Okayhavefunthen."

After a ride in a jet that seemed slower than molasses to the soon-to-be father, Ivan finally arrived in Canada (the nation, not the man, you pervs). Nothing could stop this giant of a nation. When his cab got stuck in traffic three miles away from the hospital, he got out of the taxi and ran. Even a sudden downpour couldn't stop him. Nor did traffic lights (he was very lucky). Once he made it to the hospital, he immediately ran to the help desk.

"I'm looking for Matthew Williams. Where is he?"

The startled nurse thought about calling security for a second, then dismissed the thought as the man had a good head on even their tallest guards. She quickly directed him to the room.

"спасибо!" He said breathlessly, taking off to the nearest elevator. After a short elevator ride with several terrified occupants, Ivan finally arrived at the maternity ward. Then there was more running. He may have scarred a few newborns for life.

Britain and France could hear Russia for a good minute before actually seeing him.

"Ah, Russia, you're just in-"

"OUT OF MY WAY!" The tall nation said, pushing past them and nearly breaking the doors as he burst into the room. "MATVEY!"

Startled, the small nation looked up. Canada's cheeks were flushed, his hair was a mess and matted with sweat, the curl on his head was completely bent out of shape, and he looked exhausted, yet at the same time tears of joy were in his eyes.

In his arms, a small pink bundle whimpered softly, more at the sudden noise than anything else.

"Well, hello to you too, Ivan." Matthew said softly, then shushing the little small creature in his arms.

Ivan just stared at him dumbfounded, painting from running more than three miles. In the rain, no less.

Matthew smiled weakly at him, still recovering from the exhausting exercise of giving birth. "Well, don't be shy! She's your daughter too, you know."

Still a bit dumbstruck, Russia walked (well, sort of, more like a Frankenstein shuffle) over to the bed, taking a seat in a chair a nurse kindly set out for him. Slowly, as if it were a priceless antique, Ivan took the tiny child into his arms.

Russia was sad to say he had broken a promise. When Matthew had become his lover, he had sworn he would never love anyone else as much as him. But now, looking at this pale baby girl with wisps of sand-colored hair and Matthew's beautiful bluish-purple eyes in his arms, there was someone he loved just as much as the Canadian.

He didn't really care.

"Sh-She's beautiful. Matvey, I love you. And her. I love her."

"So do I, darling."

"Excuse me." A brunette nurse stepped forward, holding a clipboard in her hands. "Sorry to interrupt you, but have you two decided on a name for your daughter?"

"Erm… Well, no, I guess we-" Russia began.

"Anastasia."

Startled, Ivan looked at his lover. "What?"

"Anastasia was your favorite, right? I rememeber you saying that she was the one you liked the most of the Romanovs."

Indeed, before Russia and Canada started dating, Ivan had told Matthew stories of the last Grand Duchess. Russia recounted how Anastasia was a bold young girl, making faces at the royal court, running amok if not watched, yelling random things in French that her Grandmeré taught her, speaking of things a lady of her status shouldn't speak of, and generally making a lot of people's jobs a lot harder than they needed to be. She was also one of the few people who both knew what Russia was and still treated him like a person. Oh, the tsarevich was kind to him, but his disease kept him from seeing Russia very often. Ivan was devastated when he was forced to take them from the palace and to the docks. He would never forget the look on Anastasia's face as she was shoved into the boat, screaming and cursing Russia and his people as tears ran down her face. For years after her death, rumors of her survival circulated throughout the Soviet Union, and its people searched for their lost Princess (they also looked for Alexei, as rumors of his survival accompanied Anastasia's). No one looked harder than Ivan. He refused to believe that witty girl hadn't escaped, and until all the remains of the Romanov's were found in 2009, he didn't give up.

"You were listening? I thought you stopped paying attention when I got to searching part!"

"Of course I listened! So, how about it? Anastasia Braginski-Williams?"

Russia paused. Then he smiled at his boyfriend. "Da. Anastasia Braginski-Williams."

"Wonderful! Erm, how do you spell Braginski?"

Russia smiled and spelled it out for her. Just as the nurse walked away, America burst into the room, holding a bunch of baby blue balloons and a giant bear with a bright blue ribbon tied in a bow around its neck.

"The Hero is here to see his nephew!" Alfred yelled cheerfully. He was met by silence.

"Er… Al, bro, I'm afraid…"

"Moronic American, Anastasia is a girl." Russia said, passing his daughter back to… her other father.

A look of stunned embarrassment crossed America's face. "Uh… Be right back!" He yelled again, running out of the room again. Britain sighed, walking into the room after him.

"Honestly, that man… Well, enough of that! Congratulations, you two!"

"Yes, congratulations to you both! Now, let Grandperé see his darling granddaughter!"

After a few hours of commotion (and Alfred returned with a more suitably colored bunch of balloons and bear), Anastasia was taken to sleep with the rest of the newborns, as it was already 8 P.M when she was born, and nearly midnight by the time everyone left, and Russia and Canada were left alone.

Matvey is so wonderful… Already he was my darling angel, and then he brought me new angel… I love him so much…

"Hey, Matvey?"

"Mm?" The tired nation asked, turning himself to look at his lover.

"…Пойдешь за меня?"

Matthew sighed, propping himself up on his elbow. "Honey, you know I'm learning Russian, but I can't really speak it that well. I have no idea what you just said to me."

"… Marry me, Matvey."

Canada did a double take. "Wh… Wh-What?"

"I mean it. Marry me. I love you so much, and I can't imagine life without you or Anastasia. Will you marry me, please?"

Canada blushed, the red nearly invisible in the dim lights of the city coming in from out the window. "… Y-Yes, Ivan. I love you."

Russia smiled, then walked over to the bed and kissed Canada.

Needless to say, the pullout bed was not used that night.

A/N: Aaaaand there you have it! Prologue is done! Oh, and Anastasia is sort of like what the State OC's are: Not really countries, not really humans.

The scene where Ivan meets Anastasia is loosely based on the birth scene from Itazura Na Kiss Episode 24. If you haven't seen it, go watch it. NAAAOO!

Translations (please note that I do not know either Russian or French, I used Google Translate):

Russian to English:

Люблю тебя: I love you

спасибо: Thank you

Пойдешь за меня: Will you marry me

French to English:

Je t'aime aussi: I love you too