A/n This is my first story post here. Mostly written by myself but half of it is RP. It's shotty an inexperienced but I hope you like it. All of Iggy's acting parts (and cursing X3) are courtesy of Simply a Writer, she rpd with me to help set out the plot and also helped me with other areas of this, so I guess you could technically call it a colab.

Mochni: Alfred's native name, means talking bird

Liwanu: Matthew's native name, means growling bear

Ina: mother. Native America, her name was Makawee, means mothering earth (actually Maka means earth and Makawee means mothering, but I've decided to combine the definitions)

Italics are either dream sequences or thoughts.

Bold italics is Matthew or Alfred speaking in Lakota, I used Lakota because that's the language I actually found a kind-of dictionary for


Alfred walked out of the store, grocery bags full of popcorn, soda and a few new movies. It was early September here in Texas which meant it was still very warm out, which accounted for the lack of the familiar bomber jacket he usually wore, leaving a Ninja Turtles t-shirt, jean shorts and blue tennis shoes. It was Thursday and the following Tuesday there would be a G8 meeting. Alfred had asked Arthur if he wanted to come over early since they haven't really spent much time together lately. His plane still wouldn't arrive for a few hours though.

After arriving at his house and putting the bags down he turned around to go back out and lock up his car. All of a sudden something bit into his neck and he stumbled back. Before he could register what's happening two men attempted to grab his arms. Easily swinging them off Alfred lunged forward to counter before another dart hit his shoulder. He tripped over the bags and fell to his hands and knees. A third dart hit him in the back before he finally passed out.


Hours later Alfred woke up on a cold steel floor his head pounding and body too warm. Looking around he found the was in a big metal box. I say box cause there didn't seem to be any visible door anywhere, all he could see was a trapdoor in the middle of the ceiling next to a few dim lights and a small air shaft far to high to reach blowing in fresh air. A camera was placed in the corner watching him. A buzz sounded and an unknown voice sounded over unseen speakers.

"Good morning Mr. Jones. Nice of you to finally wake up."

Alfred turned his head toward the voice, "Who are you?" He demanded.

"Merely a curious man." The voice replied. "I've heard a lot about you Mr. Jones. My great grandfather was a medic at the White House during the Civil war, his journal mentioned you many times."

"That was two hundred years ago, that couldn't have been me!"

"Afraid so, he not only mentioned that you were, in fact, a nation, but also some rather interesting 'episodes' you had during times whenever battle broke out."

"Then you should know you can't keep me here!" Alfred ran to a wall and gave it a punch, not a dent was made. He stared wide eyed and swung with this other arm with the same result.

The voice laughed. "This cell was designed specifically for you Mr. Jones, not even you can break through it!"

Alfred growled in response, just starting to notice how small the room seemed. It was a good 10 feet on each side, the ceiling about the same height. He wasn't normally claustrophobic, heck his favorite hiding spot was under the bed during storms, but with no visible way out he was starting to panic.


Matthew was worried. Arthur had called about an hour ago and said Alfred never picked him up from the airport, asking if Matthew would come get him. Driving down the road to Alfred's house he tried calling again. He hasn't answered yet which is something that rarely, if ever happens, hence reason to worry number two. After yet another voice mail message he finally gave up. Pulling in the driveway and letting Kuma out the back seat, Matthew walked up to the front door with Arthur. He reached up to knock but it was cracked open slightly. Pushing it the rest of the way and letting himself in Canada noticed grocery bags near the door with the contents scattered across the floor.

Kuma mentioned he could smell at least 3 people he couldn't recognize. Arthur had picked up what looked to be a tranq dart off the floor. Upon searching every room seeing absolutely no sign of his twin, Matthew pulled out his phone again and called the President.


Alfred had been pounding the wall for hours, trying different areas in hopes of finding a week spot. His knuckles were raw and bloody but he wasn't really paying attention to them anyway. The voice had long since gone silent leaving no one to talk to and making him feel cut off from the outside even more. Over the last few hours, unnoticeable from the camera, a ring of gold edging his pupils had appeared. The color gradually pooling to smother out sky blue.

Generally Alfred could handle small areas, having lots of crowded cities like New York and Seattle helped mellow out the claustrophobia that seemed to run in the family, but he couldn't handle being confined. His drive for freedom, along with his wild heart, never handled being trapped well. As long as there was a way out he was fine. But this was too much like being a caged bird put on display and he was slowly loosing his grip on his sanity.

"TSEEEEER!" Check that, he's lost it.

"TSEEEER!" He lashed out as large black talons grew out of his hands leaving slight scratches in the metal. The skin around his hands and arms hardening and turning scaly. The golden color of his hair started leaching away as the strands started to split or merge till they were feathery and white. Snowy feathers flowing out of the skin of his face before ones of a dark brown started below his neck, continuing down his chest and arms stopping just below his elbow were the hard skin ceased. The bones snapped and fused making him slightly taller, rearranging his face into a hard beak. Feet growing its own set of curved talons within his shoes piercing through the cloth and rubber of the toes. The heels ripping out as his ankles stretched up, reforming closer to his knees. New appendages tore out of his back ripping his shirt, new bone and muscle growing outward, jointing at places, sprouting long sturdy feathers used to take to the sky.

"TSEEEER!" With a final screech he flapped the newly formed wings, just barely the length of the room, and leaped in the air slamming his claws into the ceiling before swinging towards the wall. Having a renewed source of energy Alfred flitted around the room clawing every reachable surface clinging to the walls before kicking off again. It was a shear miracle the camera remained unharmed.


"Mochni!" Matthew yelled as he was shaken out of his dream. He looked around to find Arthur looking at him confused.

It had been at least a day and a half since Alfred was discovered missing and the stress finally wore him down enough to pass out from exhaustion. The door opened and someone said they were being sent for.


Matt looked down the hall looking for guards or anyone for that matter. Finding noone he came out from behind the corner gun in his hand at the ready. Arthur trailed behind, keeping his eye on the rear should anyone try to creep up on them. His own gun was settled in his hands, feeling far more comfortable than it should have...

They were heading down the hall when Matt came across a door, he peaked inside and noticed a single guard watching numerous security monitors. Arthur glanced back then in over Matt's shoulder. "Just one?" He whispered in the blonde's ear.

"Yeah." Matt replied, easing the door open all the way and sneaking behind him. His natural invisibility powers kicking in just in case. Once he got behind the guard he pinched his neck hard until he passed out. (A/N Im not much of a Trekie but I figure that the Vulcan neck pinch is something Al figured out how to do and he taught Matt)

Arthur came in after him, locking the door and stashing the guard in the cupboard. "What's all this then?" He muttered grimly, turning to the monitors. "...fuck..."

Matthew started looking from screen to screen, there was an awful lot, typing on the keyboard to select different ones. Finally he found a room that seemed to be empty except for an oddly shaped mass in the corner. The only reason they could see it was that the camera was set on night vision.

"What is that?" Arthur says as he leaned in closer. "Bio-weaponry?" If this place was breeding mutants, he didn't want to fucking know!

"Mochni.." Matt's hands flew across the keyboard hacking into the system to find were the feed traced from. A few seconds later a map popped up with two rooms lit up. The security room and the one on the screen.

"Matthew, what is that?" He didn't ask, he commanded an answer. Whatever it was, it seemed to have the younger nation worried and that was something he didn't like.

"We need to get to that room." Matt told him heading toward the door only to be blocked by Arthur.

"What the fuck is in that room?!" He asked dangerously. What was Canada conspiring?

"Let me go! I have to get to him!"

"Get who?! We came here to get Alfred, not whatever's in that box!"

Matt gives him a long hard look, debating on what to say. Finally he gives a sigh "...That is Alfred.. and by the looks of things he isn't doing good.."

His prior anger faltered just slightly. "What?"

"It's hard to explain but, basically he's probably hurt somehow and we need to find him and help him as fast as we can."

He nodded, figuring it best to just go with this - Matthew wasn't the type to lie... "Lead the way."

Matt gives him a grateful look leading him through the many halls. Finally they passed through a ground level warehouse and came to what seemed to be a large metal box in the middle of the room. A set of airport rolling stairs leading to the top were a trapdoor was set into it next to what appeared to be an air vent system. A rope ladder secured and rolled up next to the door.

"What is this?" He breathed, rushing over regardless. Just the thought of being locked in the box made him shudder a little.

"Looks like a cage made especially for America." Matthew reached for the door but hesitated and turned to Arthur. "Listen you're going to have to follow a couple of rules when we get in there. First of all don't make any loud noises. Second stay low to the ground, it makes you look smaller and less intimidating." With that he opened the door and threw the ladder down climbing into the box.

He sounded like he was talking about an animal! Arthur complied regardless, following the blonde. What he saw once inside would stay with him forever...

There were claw marks all over the walls, covering almost every inch. Loose feathers strewn across the floor, a sign as to how stressed the occupant has been trapped in the small space. In the corner sat a large mass of chocolate brown feathers that moved with breath. Matt slowly crept closer to it. "Mochni?"

Arthur just frowned, staying where he was. He was too taken aback and disturbed by this scene to remember to stay low.

Matt reached a hand toward the mass. As soon as he touched it he leapt back avoiding an arm that ended in wicked claws. As he backed away the brown mass unfurled into large wings revealing them to be attached to a large figure who leapt to his feet. The figure seemed more bird than man, knees bent and slouched over. Matt reaches toward him and he lets out a hiss, raising his wings slightly and puffing the feathers on his neck and the top of his head to appear bigger and more intimidating. Matt started talking but it wasn't a language Arthur knew. "Mochni calm down! It's me! Liwanu!" Mochni tensed up.

Arthur panicked and rushed for the blonde. "Matthew, get back!" He pulled Matt back, putting himself between the two, gun raised and ready.

Mochni hissed at Arthur lifting his wings, noticing the door he lunged. Arthur fired, but Mochni knocked him to the ground and flew up through the door. "No!" Matt yelled.

Arthur crumpled like paper as the talons tore through him, blood quickly seeping onto the cold metal of the room.

Matthew growled and knelt next to Arthur checking his wounds. They didn't look too bad, just deep enough to bleed heavily but they wouldn't kill him. He sighed and helped him up the ladder. "It's your fault for spooking him.."

"'Idiot.." Arthur spat, staggering and swaying slightly as his blood oozed out of him. "He'd have killed you..."

"I was trying to calm him down! You're the one who attacked him!" Matt huffed and looked around. He noticed a trail of sprinkled blood leading away from the box. It circled around the room before leading over top a large stack of crates toward the back, close to the doors where trucks unload. Before he went over there he set Arthur down and pulled out a roll of bandages from his pack and dressed the cuts. Arthur groaned, chest throbbing and bleeding into the bandages, white quickly turning red.

"It's pretty deep but not much to worry about. Come on we gotta get over to those crates." He hauled Arthur's arm over his shoulder and helped him down the stairs. Arthur staggered along, suppressing the waves of nausea that washed over him as he ran along with the blonde. "Where're we going..?"

"He's on top of that stack." Matthew circled around the crates looking for a stack shorter than the rest to climb up on. Finding none he let out a frustrated growl took off his gloves and started untying his shoes.

"What're you doing now?" Artbur yelped, completely perplexed. Did one of his brothers slip something into his drink again, because this was one fucked up dream!

"I'm going up there to get him." Matt replied, pulling his socks off. He really didn't want to do this in front of Arthur but he didn't have much choice, and since there would be an explanation later anyway he might as well.

Arthur just sighed and gave up, slumping to the ground. "Fuck it, do whatever..."

After glancing at the Brit Matthew closed his eyes for a good minute. When he opened them it looked like his pupils had doubled in size, but if you looked close enough you could see a ring of brown so dark its almost black. He watched his hands as they grew slightly thicker with callus like pads on his finger tips and palms. Then came what he waited for, large black claws sprouted from his nail beds, after which he rammed them into the soft wood of the crate and started to heave himself up.

Yup... he was going mad... He closed his eyes, taking a moment to assess his physical state - It fucking tished!

Matthew continued to change as he climbed. Sprouting white fur and a muzzle, his hair bleaching to white.

Arthur glanced back up, vision blurring. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear it up, but he soon just passed out, slumping onto the floor.

Matt peaked over the top of the crates, spotting Mochni huddled in the middle. He had a talon gripping his left shoulder with his wings wrapped around him.

"Mochni?" Matt called. Mochni jerked his head around and let out another birdlike hiss. "Mochni it's just me." He said as he climbed onto the crate next to him.

Mochni looked long and hard at him before the gold in his eyes slightly gave way to sky blue. "L...Liw..anu..?" It seemed difficult for him to say the word.

"Yeah it's me. Come on let's get down off here so we can go home."

Mochni ruffled his feathers and chitered a little. "Dan..anger.. hurt.." Liwanu reached over and pried Mochni's hand off his shoulder. It seemed that the shot Arthur fired went through it, as well as nicking the wing partially. It didn't disable it but it was enough damage to make flying hard.

"Then we need to leave here right? So come on climb down." With that he put his hind paws over the side and started down. Mochni watched him go over the edge and cautiously flapped his wings to take off. He reached the ground first but landed rather heavily, twittering his distress.


It was a few hours later that Arthur woke up, he noticed that he felt movement. He looked around and noticed he was in the back of a SWAT van. He looked over and saw Matthew sitting on the floor with what seemed to be a large brown blanket next to him.

He rolled onto his back, groaning softly. "Matthew?"

"Hey! You finally woke up!" The Canadian grinned.

"What the fuck...?" He tried to sit up, but his chest felt tight. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck..."

Matthew laughed, "That's a pretty accurate assumption."

"What? What've you got next to you?"

Matt looked down at Mochni, curled up against Matt with his head in his lap and wings once again around him fast asleep. Though his eyes were almost half blue now It could still take a while for his nerves to calm down enough to be completely human again. Matthew stroked his fingers through the feathers on his wings, the limbs twitching slightly in response.

Arthur forced himself up, leaning against the far wall. "What happened?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" He asked continuing to stroke the wings.

"Uh... blood, pain, a gunshot and feathers?"

Matt sighed. "Well we found Al, as soon as I had him secured I called in for the rest of the squad to take care of everything else. After that they came in and took the people they could round up into custody."

Arthur nodded slowly, letting this sink in. "That's him, isn't it...?"

"..yeah.."

"How is he...?"

Matt was silent for a while thinking about where to start. "Before you and France found us we stayed with Ina."

He nodded slowly, letting him go on.

"She taught us the ways of the tribes, how to hunt buffalo for meat and make their bones and hides into tools and clothes. Songs to pray for weather or good fortune. Healing ceremonies and such. She also taught us about connecting to our spirit animals. Normally they're not much more than a guide. But since nations are pretty much earth spirits we can actually draw on their power."

Arthur let this sink in. He had an idea of the twins' past with the natives, but he'd never really given it much thought. "How does that link to this?"

"If we draw enough power, we can basically shapeshift into our animal spirits. Usually they're pretty easy to control though."

"So what went wrong this time?"

"My guess is Al got overwhelmed by his panic and lost control. It happened a lot during the Civil war, and with 9/11 we were lucky enough that the attack knocked him out almost right away, otherwise he's got a good handle on it."

"Will he remember himself once he wakes?" He winced as his cuts throbs.

"It depends, I'm not sure how lost in his instincts he was."

"Either he's gone or he hates me.." He tried to mutter jokingly, but the little chuckle just made him flinch.

Matt laughed a little, "When we were in that box he was already pretty riled up, also it was dark, and bald eagles aren't exactly nocturnal. He just didn't recognize you."

He sighed and leans back, letting the twinge of pain pass. "When is he going to change back?"

"Not sure, whenever he feels safe again I guess." Just then Alfred started fidgeting awake.

Arthur flinched, naturally setting on edge again.

Alfred opens his eyes, 2/3 blue now, looks at Matt "Liwanu?" His voice sounds kinda raspy, but then again that could be the different vocal cords. He sat up gingerly, wincing as he moved his bandaged wing and shoulder.

Arthur watched cautiously, hand groping around for his gun. It was more of a comfort than anything, but he would use it if he had to. He couldn't find the weapon and just shuffled away slightly, the three deep gashes across his chest not letting him settle down.

Alfred heard Arthur move, his head jerked toward the sound as he tensed and reached a hand to grasp Matt's arm.

Arthur flinched as he moved, something inside of his expecting another attack.

"Ahte?" (father?) Alfred croaked. He shrunk back a little slightly afraid now.

"Alfred... are you there lad?" He was slow, cautious. This could go either way...

Alfred's head tilted to the side. "Ahte..?"

"Matthew, what's he saying?" He asked aside, perplexed.

"I think he's having a hard time recognizing English right now, but he's calling you."

Alfred suddenly shrunk into himself giving off a nervous chirp.

Arthur frowned and hazarded a move towards the feathered boy. He was treating him much like a wild animal, but it somehow seemed fitting right now.

Alfred hung his head and keened lowly. "Ahte.. sake yazo ..we.." (father.. claw hurt.. blood)

Arthur shuffled closer and winced, his chest throbbing as if in sympathy with Al's thoughts. His chest was bare, save for the bloodied bandage wrapped across his wounds. "Alfred?"

Alfred keened again "Yazo, owa sicha.." (hurt, bad wound) He turned his head away.

Arthur came closer, reaching out to him. "I-it's alright lad..."

Matthew spoke up, "He's upset, he remembers hurting you.."

"Then you tell him it's okay," He sighed tiredly. "I'll heal soon enough." Matthew called his name, Alfred looked at him as he talked, then just shook his head and curled up a little.

Arthur scooted close enough to touch him and just let his hand hover in the gap, offering.

"Mochni sica mila hanska, yazo Ahte, Ahte oyusi ke wabli.." (Mochni bad American, hurt father, father hate eagle)

"What's he saying?" Having to ask for a translator was getting on his nerves now, but he'd just have to live with it.

Matthew gave a sigh. "He says you hate him, he hurt you and you hate him."

Well, it was rational though, he'd give him that... "Tell him that it's alright? I understand and it'll heal..." Matt tried talking to him again, but he just shook his head and curled up more wings nearly covering his head.

Arthur steeled himself and took a leap of faith... and lay his hand on Al's shoulder... wing.. that area.

Alfred flinched and gave Arthur a fearful look, the hand dangerously close to the tear in his shoulder. Arthur's hand was light and ghosting, slowly traveling away from the torn shoulder, heading for his cheek. "It's okay." He said slowly. Alfred was shaking a little, still not quite understanding what was being said. "How do I speak in his language...?"

"What do you want to say?"

"That it's all okay and I still love him." Matt started talking again, but Al still gave him a guarded look.

"Oh, fuck it." He muttered, leaning back in to wrap his arms around him. If this didn't work, nothing would!

Alfred tensed for a moment, before relaxing and holding him tight, tears running down his face. Arthur held him close, just cooing nonsense in his ear. It wouldn't matter what he said, he wouldn't understand it, so he relied on tone.

Arthur noticed the wings shrink away, melding into his back until they were gone. The now useless bandage falling to the floor having nothing left to hold on to. The one on his shoulder stayed in place though, if a little loose. He hazarded some actual words, not daring to let him go though. "Alfred..."

Alfred sniffed, burying his head into Arthur's neck. "M' sry.." Came the muffled reply.

"It's alright lad." He sighed with relief - he was back. "I'll be fine." Alfred held on for a minute longer before he pulled back.

Arthur looked at Alfred. Shirtless, shoeless, and missing his glasses. He gave him a weak half grin, his own face a sickly pale, the bandages on his chest really needing changing. "Don't we both look a state?"

Al laughed a little. Matthew fished around in his pockets for Texas, he had gone back into the box to look for them before they left.

"How does your shoulder feel...?"

"Like hell.." Alfred croaked. Apparently he really did scream him self hoarse, plus nothing to drink for two days didn't help.

Arthur nodded slowly. "We'll get you seen to... just let your throat rest, alright?"

Alfred nodded and sat back. A few minutes later the truck came to a halt, the occupants glancing up. Bulky, heavily armored men stood in the doorway to the truck, offering aid to the three in the back - they'd arrived!


A/n Mostly this was to write out a head cannon of mine, said head cannon being having a strong connection/power over their spirit animal. In many Native American stories it was no big deal for spirits or talented shaman to switch between animal and human forms, in fact it happened quite often. If you would like to see what my version of the spirit forms look like, go to my gallery on Deviantart and look in the Hetalia folder.

Also, Pearl Harbor wasn't mentioned in Al's freakouts for two reasons. One Alfred was already on edge from the rest of the world being at war, so when he got hit he was able to manage it, plus it was half expected that they'd do something to pull him in. Two I don't think (but I might be wrong) the losses were nearly as large or as sudden as 9/11 (it tore open his throat, New York City is his voicebox) and the Civil war was Americans verses Americans, practically ripping the country apart.

Edit: I've learned that gaho is an acual name meaning mother, not a word, so I've replaced gaho with Ina which is Lakota for mother.

Edit 2 Feb 2015: I've gone back and fixed grammar, spelling, and added a few new words for better sentences.