Chapter 1: RusPru, UsUk, Franada

"Mutti!"

The call of his middle child rang out through the air. Gilbert shoved his head under his pillow.

"Mutti!"

There it was again, and yet again, Gilbert tried to ignore it. Maybe if he ignored it, she'd go back to sleep…

"MUTTI!"

Nope, there was no getting out of it now. Whatever it was, it obviously demanded Gilbert's immediate attention. The ex-nation groaned and rolled over in his bed, preparing to get up, before a large hand on the small of his back stopped him.

"I will tend to her," Ivan yawned. He lifted his head up from his pillow and smiled at Gilbert. It was slightly unnerving. But, if his husband wanted to get up at four A.M. to tend to their daughter, Gilbert wasn't about to protest.

Ivan got out of bed, and for a few moments, Gilbert had peace and quiet. Then, he looked up when Ivan re-entered the room, holding Anastasia—their only daughter—in his arms. The ten year old's red eyes were wet with tears, and Gilbert sighed softly as he sat up.

"What happened?" he asked Ivan.

"A bad dream," Ivan replied, handing their daughter to Gilbert as easily as he had when she had been much smaller. Gilbert took her, settling her in his lap as he straightened his back against the headboard of the bed.

"Mein liebling," Gilbert sighed, running his hand through her stark white hair. Oh, she looked so much like him. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I-I had that scary dream again," Anastasia whimpered. "The one where… you died, Mutti."

"Oh." Recently, Anastasia had been having a recurring nightmare, and Gilbert was at a loss for how to deal with it. If he was going to die, he would've died a long time ago, when Germany had been united. And Lovino was still alive, even though Italy had been united much longer than Germany had…

"Well, I'm right here, and still awesome, aren't I?" Gilbert said, hugging his daughter close. "So there's nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

"But-but-but what if something hurts you, Mutti?" Anastasia whined, rubbing at her eyes furiously.

"Nothing will hurt him as long as I am here," Ivan said, sliding into bed next to his husband and daughter. "I made a vow to love and protect your mother a long time ago."

"Vati…" Anastasia held her arms out towards her father, and Gilbert let her go so she could climb over to him. "You promise you'll protect Mutti no matter what?"

Ivan smiled, but this time it was much warmer. "Of course. I love your mother." He kissed Anastasia on the head, then rubbed her cheek with his thumb. "Now, let's get back to sleep. We have meetings in the morning."

Anastasia nodded, and curled between her parents in the bed. Gilbert couldn't help but smile as he pulled the blankets up and tucked her in carefully.

"I'll keep those nasty nightmares from coming back," Gilbert said as he tucked her in. "Goodnight, little one."

They could at least get a few more hours of sleep.

Morning came much too quickly for Arthur.

His green eyes fluttered open as the first rays of sunlight made their way through the blinds, illuminating him and the shape of his husband on the bed. Alfred snored away, blissfully unaware of anything else in the world. Arthur could hear the children squealing and pans clanging downstairs, and he sighed. As much as he wanted to stay in bed with his husband, he knew he had to get up.

"Alfred?" Arthur said softly, pushing on the American's shoulder. "Alfred, wake up, love. We've got a busy day today."

"Mmm… it's just Thursday," Alfred mumbled, pulling the covers over his head. Arthur was honestly surprised that he remembered the day of the week. "Are the kids up?"

"Yes, they're… doing something downstairs," Arthur replied. "I've got to go check on them."

"No, no, you stay in bed," Alfred said quickly, starting to push himself out of bed. He sat up on his knees, reaching over to touch the curve of his husband's stomach. "You gotta"—his words were punctuated by a long yawn—"rest."

"As much as I'd love to do that, there's a lot that needs to be done today," Arthur told him. "Remember? It's your Thanksgiving, and we decided at the last meeting we'd all meet here."

"Oh… oh, right!" Alfred jumped out of bed suddenly, clad in nothing but his boxers. "I'll go get the kids ready, and you — whatever you do, don't cook!"

"Get dressed first," Arthur muttered, sighing as he finally made his way out of bed.

Once they had both gotten dressed, they made their way downstairs, where chaos was unfolding.

"Mum, Dad, please help," Amel, their oldest, pleaded breathlessly. He held Damien, their youngest child, in his arms, and handed him off to Alfred, who held his arms out for him. "The other kids wanted to make breakfast."

"Well, did they? I'm starving," Alfred chirped. Arthur elbowed him sharply in the ribs, careful to avoid their son in his arms. "Ouch!"

"What did they break?" Arthur sighed. It was clear that the two had very different priorities.

"They managed to make some pancakes, Berenice just got cereal though, it's what they did to the kitchen…" Amel put a hand to his forehead, and Arthur reached over to rub his shoulders.

"It's alright, dear, we'll take care of it. And remember, we have to go pick up your medicine later today. You can drive me, if you'd like."

The sixteen year old perked up immediately. "Alright!"

"Artie!" Alfred called from the doorway. "We're gonna need all hands on deck in here. Line up, kids!"

Altogether, Alfred and Arthur had seven children, not counting the eighth that had yet to be born. As crazy as their life was, Arthur honestly couldn't imagine it any other way. Currently, at Alfred's order, all of the children lined up.

"Alright, listen, I know you wanted to make a nice breakfast, but now the kitchen's a mess and we've got guests coming over later so we've gotta get this place looking nice! Got it?"

"Yes, Dad, got it," the children echoed. Arthur gave a sigh of relief; it looked like today was going to be one of those days where the children actually paid attention and listened. Or perhaps Alfred just had a way with them that Arthur simply didn't. After all, many of them represented Alfred's states, and had inherited Alfred's personality.

"Alright, let's get to cleaning," Alfred announced. "Then afterwards we can all go get ice cream!"

Oh, great.

"Rheanna? Hey, Rheanna, wake up."

The blonde girl slowly opened one blue eye to stare into her sister's paler blue-violet ones. Maria stood over Rheanna's bed, chewing on her thumbnail nervously.

"What do you want?" Rheanna mumbled.

"Cover for me, will you? Tell Mama and Papa I was in bed all night," Maria whispered.

"Mmm… why should I? You going somewhere?" A mischievous gleam entered Rheanna's eyes. "Maybe you're finally taking my advice and putting your life in your own hands, eh?"

"No," Maria hissed, blushing furiously. "I mean… kind of? I already went, I just… I know Papa would throw a fit if he knew I was seeing a boy!"

"You're seeing a boy?" Rheanna purred, sitting up in bed. "Is he cute?"

"Why do you care, you have Emma," Maria muttered. "But, if you must know, he's very cute. And he's very much mine!" She clasped her hands over her mouth when the last words came out louder than expected, and she looked over her shoulder nervously.

"Alright, fine, I'll cover for you. But you're gonna owe me," Rheanna said, preparing to get back under her covers and go back to sleep. Just as she was about to, however, a voice stopped both of them in their tracks.

"Good to see you two finally working together."

Both Rheanna and Maria's heads snapped up to see their parents standing in the doorway, Matthew, their mother, wearing an uncharacteristic look of annoyance and anger on his face. And Francis, their father, looking more like he'd been dragged there than anything else, because he still looked tired.

"M-Mama," the twins said quietly, Maria smiling nervously and Rheanna fighting the urge to sink under her covers.

"Maria, you are in big trouble young lady," Matthew said, his voice still quiet as ever, but loaded with danger. "How could you sneak out without telling us where you were going, and do you know what time it is? It's four in the morning. Have you been out with a boy this whole time?"

"W-well, it wasn't just me," Maria protested. "Teddy went there with me, and… um…"

"Teddy? It isn't like him to sneak out," Francis said, running a hand through his hair.

Teddy—Theodore—was Alfred and Arthur's second oldest, and he wasn't known to cause trouble. It was definitely odd that he would sneak out.

Matthew sighed. "Where did you go, and with whom?"

"We just hung out by the school," Maria said softly. "M-me and my… boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!" Now it was Francis's turn to freak out. "How long have you had this boyfriend?"

"It's our, um… two month anniversary?" Maria grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I just thought—"

"Oh, mon amour, they grow up so fast!" And now he looked like he was about to cry. Maria and Rheanna looked at each other and sighed. "My little angel has a boyfriend, soon she will have a husband!"

"Francis, she's thirteen," Matthew said. "She won't be getting married for a very long time."

"I'm sorry for sneaking out, really, but I'm tired now," Maria said softly. "Can I go to bed?"

"You're still in trouble," Matthew said quickly, before his daughter could get any other ideas. "But, yes, you can go to bed. And Rheanna, you're in trouble too."

"But why?" Rheanna whined.

"Because you were going to hide it from us," Matthew stated simply. "We're going over to your Uncle's house in the mor… later, and if you're on your best behavior I'll think about letting you off the hook."

"Yes, Mama," both girls sighed. Maria went to her own bed then, and Rheanna pulled the covers over her head. Maria rolled her eyes as she heard Francis outside of the door saying "a boyfriend" repeatedly. She would be fine.

Francis would need some time.