I said I wouldn't do this. By 'this' I mean 'start a new multi-chapter', but I felt I should do something for my one-year-on-fanfiction anniversary, and my joining of the Hetalia fandom. Sadly, I jump fandoms a lot, and this won't be updated a lot. I mean, I'll update, I make an effort to not abandon my stories, but...

Ahem. I ramble. But what I'm saying is- know what you're getting into; this most likely won't be updated for a good three weeks. I'm working on five projects, six now, so eeeh, new updates will be patchy.

And finally, because shipping is serious for Hetalians, couples involved in this fic are:

RoChu

GiriPan

GerIta

Franada

Percabeth

Frazel

Jasper

Caleo

And hints of Solangelo and USUK. Don't shun this if you don't like the ships though, it's not really a romantic story. (Okay, I'm a hypocrite, I've shunned stories for shipping, but still.)

Sorry for the three-hour-long AN. Reviews much appreciated.

Jason was having a good day. The sun was shining (almost) the birds were singing (well, squawking) and the world was not about to be taken over by a vengeful Earth goddess. Well, he was missing Leo horribly, but even that worry had been pushed to the very back of his mind by the arrival of the post that morning. Jason smiled slightly, remembering the postcard with the British stamp.

Yo

Just wanted to check that you all are ok and not dying without me. I've missed you all, but other than that I'm just fine. I'll be back at Camp in a couple weeks, and I'll be bringing a guest if that's ok with Chiron.

Say hi to Mrs. O'Leary for me,

Leo

It was short and hastily scribbled, but Jason didn't mind. It was just nice to know he was alright. He took a sip of coffee. He was sitting on a bench overlooking the sea in a little town on the beach near Camp. He had planned a date with Piper and was, if he was to be honest with himself, extremely nervous.

"Ve- Americaaaa! America! Over here! Come on, Germany says we need to be at the meeting right now and he'll be so angry if we don't get there on time and then he'll make me do laps!"

Jason's head whipped around. The speaker-well, shouter really- was a messy-haired young man with an Italian accent. He was wearing a blue coat and a white shirt, and was running towards him looking rather flustered. He was about to ask him something- maybe 'Why are you using country names in reference to people?' or 'Can I help you?' when he found himself grabbed by the arm and yanked off his bench. The man was jabbering on about... Something. Clearly, he thought Jason was this 'America' person. Why anyone would be called that, Jason didn't know. Presumably it was some sort of a nickname. He tried to yank his arm out from his grasp, but he proved to be pretty strong. Simply explaining his non-America-ness didn't seem likely either, as he was talking too loud and fast for Jason to even hope to interrupt.

"So, America, how's Tony? Will he try pasta? Can we eat pizza after the meeting? Oh, I can take Germany too, I think he's starting to like pizza but he keeps putting wurst on it and he's not supposed to! Still, he'll be pleased I found you." At this point, Jason was being shoved into a car. He tried to reopen the door, but before he'd even touched the handle, his abductor jumped in and floored the gas pedal. Jason could only grip his seat, weakly try to explain yet again that he was the wrong person, and pray to Zeus they didn't crash into that tree. Or that one. Or-cow. Jason braced himself as the man swerved violently.

"Look, I'm not America! There's been a mistake, I'm sorry. I-" he was cut off as the car swerved again. The man had clearly not heard him, as he continued to ramble on about various Italian foods, some guy named Germany and the occasional reference to a 'Romano'. Jason groaned. Better phone Camp and explain he'd been kidnapped by a food-obsessed nutter.

America loved his home. He was walking along a motorway in upstate New York. He had been driving to the meeting in the capital, but had been sidetracked by the scenery. He wanted to explore. He knew he should probably be headed back to his car- he didn't want to be late for he meeting and he was looking forward to explaining his new plan to combat world hunger (use all the money England spent a year on tea to make hamburgers, and give those to people). But for now, he was happy exploring. He glanced over at the woods on his right. They looked explorable. It wouldn't take long, and besides, who cared if he was late? Meetings never started on time. He turned, and walked into the woods, whistling 'The Star-Spangled Banner' as he went.

After an hour, the woods had proved rather boring. He'd try and walk somewhere, only to find himself back where he'd started ten minutes ago. He was about to leave when a voice called from behind. "Jason? Is that you?" He turned around.

"Uuuhhh... Yeah, which way is the road? I'm sorta lost."

The person frowned. "Jason? Why are you looking for the road? Are you going somewhere? C'mon, we need to get back to camp. There's a barbecue."

America perked up. "With burgers?"

"Hell yes." America grinned. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to play along for a bit. After all, if there was free burgers... He pushed all thoughts of the meeting to the back of his mind and followed the boy into the forest.

"You're not Jason." They's just gotten out of the woods and were now overlooking a valley. It was beautiful, with a large blue house and a little cluster of cabins surrounded by fields of strawberries and a beach. Presumably it was a summer camp of some sort. He looked back at the boy.

"Uhh. No."

The kid facepalmed. "Well, you look like him, at least in the forest." America nodded. He couldn't count the times he'd mistaken his allies for each other in low light. "Are you a Zeus kid?"

"Who's Zeus? Oh, oh, I know. Just gimme a sec- he's that guy Greece talked about in that meeting! Yeah!"

"Not a Zeus kid then. I'm Percy Jackson, by the way. Son of Poseidon."

"Eeeh, that other one doesn't ring a bell, sorry."

The kid- Percy- looked confused. "Are you a mortal?"

"Uuuuuhhhhh..." What should he say? Should he admit he was the personification of the USA or just pretend he was some lost hiker? He decided on the second. "Yeah?"

Percy cursed and grabbed America by the hand. "That means that the boundary's down or you don't know you're a demigod. Either way, I'll have to go find Chiron. Follow me."

And with that he set off down the hill, America lagging behind. Oh boy, will Germany be mad.

Jason found himself shoved into a chair in what appeared to be a conference room. As it turned out, they weren't the latest to arrive- that went to a short person (Jason was trying to decide if it was a very feminine- looking man or a slightly masculine woman) who had the foolproof excuse of "I was cooking and I wanted to avoid South Korea". However, they were still late. Jason had meant to explain how he wasn't the person they wanted, but the blonde man with the accent had spent a solid five minutes yelling at them for being late, and interruptions had only made him more angry and therefore louder and harder to interrupt. Eventually, though, he had stopped and the meeting was now twenty minutes in. Jason had still not had the opportunity to say anything, mainly because he two blondes sitting beside him had decided to have a fistfight after the one with the longer hair had insulted scones. Then the Italian that hadn't abducted him started yelling at the blonde and accusing him of, among other things, molesting his brother and liking potatoes.

He rested his head on the desk, closing his eyes. "America-san, what is your view on this?" The voice had an accent that was maybe Japanese or Chinese- Jason had never been good at identifying accents. He felt his shoulder being lightly tapped.

"America?" This voice had an easily recognizable British accent.

Jason looked up. "I. Am. Not. America! Look, your friend here abducted me! There's been a mistake. I don't know where your friend is, but I'm not him."

"I told you he looked different." This was the one with the shoulder-length blonde hair.

The British one scowled. "No you did not!"

"I did."

"We have a problem here!" The one who'd scolded Jason for being late banged his hands against the table. He appeared to be (somewhat) in charge, so Jason looked to him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" The 'leader' cut him off.

"This needs to be discussed! In private." He added, with a glance.

"I will take care of that." The voice came from the tall guy with the tan coat who had failed to say anything for the entire meeting. He pulled a length of pipe (complete with faucet) from his coat and started swinging at Jason's head. Now he was glad of the years of training at Camp Jupiter. His reflexes were sharp enough that he could dodge with relative ease.

The leader pinched the bridge of his nose, looking a lot like he was counting to ten to try and restrain his temper. "Somebody stop him."

The person with the ponytail sighed and stood up, pulling what appeared to be a wok from... Jason didn't know. He was too busy dodging blows to the head from a lead pipe to be particularly observant anyway. The person swung the wok to try and block the pipe, and... Missed spectacularly. Jason was only aware of a circle of metal flying towards his forehead, a second or so of blinding pain, and then everything went black.

Happy anniversary to meeee! Hope you enjoy, review, follow maybe, and as always- Have nice day.