I don't own Hetalia! End/AN/
"Mol? Mol, hello? We're leaving to visit with Canada in like five minutes…" America whipped through the hallway. Surely, with the clear importance of arriving on time, Molossia would not still be in his room.
But he was indeed, wearing his favorite Superman underpants and a t-shirt, lying on the floor. "I don't wanna go."
"You aren't even wearing pants! Mol!" America was already kneeling down next to him, trying to force him into a sitting position. Molossia flopped like a fish in his hands.
"Canda is weird…" Molossia complained, his whole body limp.
"Ca-na-da, Mol," America corrected, sighing. "Come on, get dressed. We have to hurry or we'll be late!"
"Nopey-dope," Molossia said, copying what America had said once upon a time to get him to laugh. "I'm gonna stay here, and watch my favorite show with the China."
"You mean the Chinese? That's a pretty boring documentary, Mol," America said, and at the insistent flopping from Molossia, he let out a groan. "Fine, then, you can go in your underwear."
He lifted him up under one arm.
That was all it took for the screaming to start. "NO! I don't want to be in my underwear! America! No! Put me down!"
"I dunno," America said, in an especially malevolent voice, "I don't think there's time to change."
"I'll get dressed, I promise, just don't make me go in my underwear!" Molossia was wiggling in America's grip, protesting being treated this way.
"Do you promise? As fast as you can?" America stopping at the doorway.
Molossia said, in a tearful voice, "I'll get dressed so fast, I promise! Please put me down!"
America put him down, and realized he'd been crying. He felt his heart give a little twist, and he said, as he watched Molossia hastily pull on his jeans, "Hey, bud? You do know I wouldn't do that to you, right?"
Molossia's trembling lip said otherwise. "Yeah…"
"I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry," America apologized, then he held his arms out.
As soon as he buttoned his jeans, Molossia ran into his arms, burying his nose into his chest. "I just didn't wanna go. I'm sorry too. But Canada won't make me eat maple syrup, right?"
"Why would he do that?" America wanted to know.
"Cause he's Canada," Molossia said, as if this made the most sense in the world.
"I won't let him force feed you anything, I promise." America stood, Molossia in his arms. He was getting too big to justifiably carry around, but America didn't care. "Come on, let's go!"
"Okay," Molossia agreed, as America thundered down the stairs.
America prided himself on being a great big brother.
That is, until Molossia kicked Kumajiro.
/AN/ I just got the idea from seeing a kid doing that limp body thing they do when they don't want to cooperate. Hope you liked it!