Hello, FanFiction. This is a little one-shot I wrote, and it's basically how I thought America would react when he found out about the Zimmerman Telegram.
For everyone that isn't that good with the history of World War One, the Zimmerman Telegram was basically Germany asking Mexico to attack America while we weren't expecting it. Germany was hoping that this would keep America tied up, and then we wouldn't join the war (we were practicing neutralism at the time). The British Empire intercepted the telegram before it could get to Mexico, however, and they informed the President and the whole of America about it. This, along with the sinking of the Lusitania, which was an American/British passanger ship that got sunk by a German submarine (and was a sister ship of the Titanic!), brought a very angry America into the first world war. With America to tip the balance, the Allied Powers (British Empire, France, Russia, America, etc.) overtook the Central Powers (Ottoman Empire, Austria-Hungary, Germany, etc.) and won the war.
History lesson over. Now that you know what happened, read on and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or the characters.
Warnings: cussing, mentions of war, threats, and killing
Song of the Chapter: Rumour Has It by Adele
Germany got off of the plane and looked around at the crowded city of Mexico City. He sighed, then hailed a taxi. He gave the taxi-driver the address of the home he was traveling to, then sat in the back seat.
Little did he know that behind him, coming off of the plane, was a certain British nation, who smirked when he saw Germany's drive cab drive away.
Everything was going exactly as planned.
Germany knocked on the door. There was commotion inside the (rather large) Spanish-style house, and then the door was opened by a girl with wavy, black hair and deeply-toned skin. She had sparkling green eyes that shone with mischief and innocence, somehow at the same time.
Germany waved to the girl. "Hallo. My name is Germany, and I am here to see Mexico."
The girl stood a little straighter. "I am Mexico, what do you need, Germany?"
"I would like to discuss war plans with you, if that is okay." He said monotonely, looking down at the young country.
Mexico stepped aside. "Sure, why not?" Germany stepped onto the threshold and Mexico shut the door behind him.
Mexico led Germany down many finely-decorated halls with strange paintings and colors that Germany could only assume was part of Mexican culture. Mexico stopped at a doorway, and stepped aside to let Germany go in first.
In the room, which was rather small, there were two red couches, a coffee table, and more paintings. Germany sat down at one of the sofas, placing his briefcase on the table. Mexico sat across from him, folding her hands in her lap.
What Mexico was wearing could be described as a matador's uniform back in Spain, and it was golden and sparkly. She had a clip holding up part of her hair, and on the clip was a golden flower that Germany didn't recognize.
Germany looked back to Mexico's face. "So, Mexico, has your government gotten our telegram?"
"Telegram? No, I don't believe we have... I might not have been notified, though, so what did it talk about?"
Germany opened his mouth to speak, when a loud voice erupted from somewhere else in the house. "Yo, Mexico, where the hell is your hot water?!"
Mexico rolled her eyes. "I told you, Estados Unidos [United States], that it doesn't come on for another hour!"
"Dammit, you could have told me!" The American yelled back.
Germany gulped. This was not the plan, if America found out- "Germany, bro, what's up?!" The loud country said from the doorway.
"America, go get some decent clothes on!" Mexico said in a scolding tone. "You will not tromp around in only a towel in my home!"
America pouted. "Fine. You're such a killjoy, Mex."
Mexico practically had steam coming out of her ears as the nearly-naked American disappeared from the doorway. "Don't call me that, maldita sea [damn it]!"
Germany nervously chuckled as Mexico sat back down. "So, Amerika is here?"
"Ah, yeah... He insisted on some neighbor bonding time or some mierda [shit] like that." She shook her head, then looked back at Germany. "So what were you saying?"
"Well, you see-"
There was some loud knocking at the door, and before Mexico could even stand, America yelled 'I'll get it'. Mexico growled. "You better have some decent clothes on, Alfredo!"
"I do!" He yelled back. Germany sighed. Maybe it would be someone that would take America away so he could talk to Mexico without him around.
"You were saying, Alemania [Germany]?" Mexico spoke again.
Germany nodded. "The telegram asks if you are willing to-"
"Why hello there, Germany! Fancy meeting you, of all people, here!" An accent Germany recognized all too well said cheerfully from the doorway. Germany sprang up from his seat on the couch.
In the doorway, England crossed his arms triumphantly, looking as if he had won a million pounds. Unlike Germany, who wore a crisp suit, he was wearing his usual green uniform.
"England, what are you doing here?" Germany asked harshly, yet he tried to control most of his anger.
"Ah, have you not told them? Especially Mexico, after all, isn't that why you're here? To discuss that telegram with her?"
Germany's eyes widened, and England's eyebrows raised higher in triumph. Germany noticed an American-sized shadow behind England, his blue eyes big and curious. So he didn't know yet.
"That is none of your business." Germany spat at the Empire.
England raised his eyes. "Oh really? After all, America is my ally, and he has done quite a lot to help the Allies during the Great War. Don't you think I should repay him?"
"Nein." Germany said flatly. "Now run along, Mexico and I have business to attend to."
England turned to America. "America, do you know what the telegram said?"
"Well, no. But you said if I let you in then-"
"Don't tell them, England." Germany said warningly. "You'll regret it soon enough if you do."
Germany could imagine the victorious smirk on England's face as he continued. "That telegram asked Mexico to pick up her arms against you, in hopes that you won't-" A gunshot rang throughout the house, effectively cutting of the British Empire, who crumpled to the floor.
America stared at the gun in Germany's hand, then in horror at the country who had shot it. "Y-you... You wanted..."
"Nein, he was lying to both of you. I would not do that to you, Amerika."
America stared at him in horror, then his horror turned to rage. "So why'd you shoot Britain?! Huh? Answer that, Germany!" He yelled.
"Britain said he had something important to tell my boss, so he asked if I could go to Mexico's for a while! I arrived here yesterday, made up some excuse, and started to live here! Then you show up, asking to have a war meeting with Mexico, my neighbor, behind my back, right?!" He yelled. "Normally, I'd be cool with it, y'know? It's not my business what Mexico does. But when it's about me - attacking me, no less - then it becomes personal. So tell me, Germany. Was this all to avoid getting me involved in the war?"
Germany was silent for a second but then he shifted his hand in his pockets. "Ja."
"Well sorry, Germany, but I guess your plan backfired." America stalked over and pointed a finger at Germany. "You and the rest of the Central forces can plan to see me, because I declare war on you. How does it feel to have a strong country side against you Germany, huh?"
With one last glare, America stalked out of the room. A couple of seconds later, America's voice echoed across the house. "Oh, and Mexico, I don't really care what you do with my stuff. Burn it, for all I care. I've got a war to win." There was a door slam, and the house fell silent once again.
There was soft, but pain-felt chuckling. Germany turned to see Britain righting himself. "How does it feel to have a plan backfire, old chap? Because it feels great to have one go just as you planned it, all down to the very last detail."
With more chuckles, Britain dragged himself out of the room, occasionally bumping into walls as his shot to the head healed itself. The door across the room opened, then closed with a click.
Mexico sighed. "I'm sorry, Alemania [Germany], but you must leave my sight. Even if you had offered, I would have had to refuse. América [America] is my brother, even if we get into fights, even if he has the nerve to call his people 'Americans', when everyone that lives in the Americas are 'Americans'. That does not change the fact that I love him, and my other brother, Canada, or as I call him, Canadá. I love the rest of my Latin American brothers and sisters as well, and I would do the same for them. So please, do leave before I call someone over to take care of you."
Germany nodded, said a hurried goodbye, and rushed out of the house. He had never felt so humiliated in his entire life, no matter how short.
But that brief moment, when he had looked up into America's eyes - Germany could see a superpower in those eyes. Don't ask him how, though. He wouldn't be able to explain it. Maybe it was a glimpse of the future, maybe it was that America hadn't changed his attitude since that day. Either way, it had scared the hell out of Germany.
From that day on, Germany had a fear of doing things behind America's back. He hated doing them in the second World War, but the will of his people pushed him to do so, so he did. On his own, he preferred to never do it again, in fear of seeing those eyes.
This, children, is why Germany doesn't like to do things behind America's back, especially when it involves war or plotting. Yes, I do believe that this would actually have happened. Including Mexico being there. And England being shot.
Yes, violence is the answer. But seriously, I kind of like interpreting points of history into Hetalia. I might just do this more. Beware, my followers. :3
If you really liked this, then feel free to check out some of my other works. Note: High School starts for me this Monday (two days~!), so I might be updating less (might, idk how I'll handle High School yet .~.)
Thanks for reading! Reviews are welcomed, but not required!
~PurpleLuna98