I do not own Hetalia

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Latvia was used to working long hours with little relaxation. He had perfected his technique of working with little to no sleep after years of years with Russia. As a weaker and smaller nation the other tended to ignore him, even if he spoke up in the middle of a meeting. But even he, the small titan with the work ethic of Germany and the endurance of paperwork like England. Even he could cave under the stressful condition of preparing his athletes for the winter Olympics and various other nation duties.

And, due to several other factors he felt sick.

He was in the UN building in New York still when he collapsed into unconsciousness. Still sitting in a small room with no windows the first sign was his drumming headache and tired eyes. As he continued to sign papers and study new trade agreements the headache worsened and his eyes actually began to water.

When he did collapse there was no one to witness it. Sitting at his desk Latvia had no defense as his head slumped forward and darkness claimed him.

Still, he thought, I got a lot of work done tonight.

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The short nation's brain slowly began to alert his body when it sensed someone else enter the office. The form, still unidentified, slipped across the room the ease and around the desk to slowly. More signals went to core of Latvia's brain when the figure gently maneuvered his arms around his body to lift him from the comfortable confines of his chair.

Sleep was sifting out of Latvia's mind as the person carried him through the now darkened UN building. But, unlike the other situation where he had been carried asleep somewhere, Latvia didn't feel as if he was in any danger. On the contrary, the arms wrapped around him felt more comforting than anything he could remember.

As if his body recognized the man but his brain didn't. Bleary with exhaustion he pulled back and eyelid to see color brown and blond weave in and out of focus.

"Who?"

"Relax Latvia," his voice was soft, soothing. Almost. Father-like Immediately Latvia felt all of the tension drain from his worn body. "I've got you." The small nation smiled. Who ever it was they were strong. Strong with a steady step and heart beat.

The steady 'thump' 'thump' 'thump' lulled peace into his own hummingbird heart. Coerced by the warmth Latvia drifted back to sleep. Safe and Sound

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Latvia jolted awake several hours later when a soft beam of sun caressed his face with the heat of midafternoon. Sitting upright the blanket tucked around his shoulders crumbled to his lap in a soft heap. The room he was in was very large and the bed he lay in was one of many. Twin sized with a hand-made quilt it looked rather like a comfortable hostel. On the opposite wall sat a door with a rather large door knob set exactly in the middle Through the double bay window he could see a sprawling lawn with several horses grazing and many children playing an intense game of baseball.

"Where am I?" The otherwise empty room offered no answer. Shaking his head clear of mounting confusion he glanced to his left where a bed-side table sat with an unobtrusive pile of clothes. A few moment later he was changed out of the pajamas (how did they get one him) into the jeans and the T-shirt.

It felt beyond surreal for the silence to persist. The overall atmosphere to be cheerful and sunny and for no one to come barging in on him. But, it would be nice to know where he was.

When he opened the door the noise level was still low but overwhelming for the short nation. Down the long hallway he could seen people bustling about, shouting into telephones, shouting at each other and overall making far too much noise.

Latvia felt nervous but for some reason no where near as much as he normally would.. The atmosphere calmed him. Confused but not frightened he wandered down the hall listening to snippets of conversation and small group arguments.

"I don't care if the horse is supposed to have wings after Ginny's experiment, that thing needs to be kept feed. It still gets hungry dangit!"

"Well? Did your boss say anything about the pot legalization?"

"WHAT ARE EYEBALLS DOING IN THE MICROWAVE?"

"Can someone help me? I think China is trying to hack my systems again!"

Turning the corner he gazed into a massive, massive supremely large kitchen with three large ovens, two gigantic dishwashers and more cabinets than he cared to count. Milling around were eight teenagers all staring at an exploded jar of eyeballs with varying degrees of disgust.

"I am not cleaning that up?" A short girl with pigtails and bright green eyes.

"That wasn't my fault," A boy with alarming Spain-like features held his hand up in surrender.

'God damn you incompetent morons!" A tall boy with curly blond hair and deep hazels eyes growled, "That was my experiment!"

"Did your experiment also involve the gallon of motor oil in the fridge?"

"No, I think that was something Indiana and Michigan cooked up. Unless you want to be a crash test dummy don't mess with it."

"Well shit."

Finally, unable to stand the confusion Latvia cleared his throat. He flinched as eight paris of curious eyes turned to him at once.

"Excuse me, but."

"ARe you dad's guest?"

"Um," he shivered under the intense gazes, "what?"

"The guest dad brought home last night, are you he?"

"I-I think so."

"Well," the boy straightened and stepped around the eyeballs, "He would like to see you in the secondary sitting room. Just follow me and don't be nervous." He gave a disarming smile, lightening up the room even more, "Come on!" The other seven teenagers, most taller and all beefier, stared quietly as he trailed after the taller boy. "He's been waiting for a while I think."

Weaving through the expansive building Latvia saw many very strange things. Realistic portraits of past American presidents. Murals on the walls depicting graphic scenes of war and the beauty of nature and peace. Past what looked like a lab he could see two tenagers plucking what looked like tomatoes from a tree. So entranced he was by the beautiful painting he almost didn't see the strange boy stop.

"Dad's right through there," he smiled and opened the door a bit, "Just try to be polite, okay?"

"Um," he fiddled with his new t-shirt, "alright."

"Well," A firm hand on the small of his back propelled him into the room ,"Good luck!"

Latvia stumbled but caught his footing in time to stare around. This room was even larger than the one he had awoken in. Massive glass windows showed a massive forest and the edge of a lake. Large bookshelves lined the walls while couches were placed at watcher angle and position the sitter deemed comfortable. The spacious room made the Latvian smile.

He didn't see anybody in the room so he wandered further in. Examining the shelves he was astonished to find works of poetry, fiction, romance, books on building, fencing and passion. Where in the world was he? The land felt familiar and he could feel the blood of Latvians trembling through the Earth to greet him but they weren't in his own country. That must mean he was in.

"Good Afternoon Latvia," cheerful and boisterous that voice could be recognized anywhere. Slowly he turned to see the face he had previously missed. Seated in the largest couch was America with a large book laying open in his lap. "are you feeling better?"

"Mr. America?" The shivers came back with a vengence. Terror swept through his limbs at the thought of what Russia would say if he saw this. What Lithuania would say. What his own boss would say?

"Yes." But, Latvia tilted his head, this was not the America he was used to. There were no torn jeans or faded t-shirts or burgers slipping from wrappers with this man. This America was dressed in a clean and casual suit with nothing but a glass of ice water sitting on the table next to him. He was actively proclaiming himself the hero nor was he ignoring people.

"What?" His thoughts darted back to the children in the halls. 'Dad' they had called him. 'He's just in there' "What is going on?" His knees trembled and America looked faintly alarmd, peering over his glasses at the much smaller nation.

"You should probably sit down Latvia," his voice warm and honey like, "If you fall over the floor isn't going to be merciful."

"But I am so confused," with little grace he collapsed in the chair opposite the superpower, "please tell me what's going on?"

"Why," America closed the book and pulled his kneed up, "Are you frightened?"

"Um," Latvia thought back to last night, when he could barely acknowledge being carried somewhere by a stranger. The images his sleep addled brain could no focus suddenly popped into his head with brilliance and color.

America. America had carried him out of the borrowed office like a bride who had drunk too much champagne. America had brought him. Brought him where exactly?

"Where. Where am I?"

"Well," the taller nation smiled, "You are at my house. I apologize for bringing you here if it makes you nervous but it was very early in the morning and I didn't want to disturb anyone in the hotel you were staying at."

"Um," he twisted his fingers, not daring to look at the man, "who were those kids?"

"You mean," Latvia glanced up to see America's smile widen, "You didn't figure it out? They are my children."

Not a single coherent thought crossed Latvia's brain.

"The one who showed you in was New Mexico. He's a good boy with a bit of a temper but still a good boy. "

"Um."

"Yes Latvia," the boy twitched, "my children."

"So, your children are your states?"

"Indeed," the superpower stood up and paced to the large window, "This is the house where we all live. Usually its more chaotic than this by many are getting ready for this years superbowl. They like to plan months in advance."

"Wow." Latvia once again examined America, this time inputting the information he hand just learned, for some reason. This change didn't surprise him. "But I have another question."

"Ask away," America turned around to smile again

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Well," the nation looked a tad sheepish now, "I wanted you to be safe and comfortable so you could catch up on your sleep. I've been noticing how stressed you have been getting so I thought a break might do you some good."

"Ah." Latvia drummed his fingers on his knee, "So how many kids do you have?"

"54," came the easy reply.

"I guess that explains how you were able to carry me around so easily."

"Oh," America peered at him with worry, "Did I wake you?"

"Not really," Latvia shrugged, "I was still half asleep."

"Well, do you feel more rested and relaxed?"

"Oh yes. Thank you Mr. America.

"Don't worry about it," he put up a hand, "But." HIs tone turned serious, "I am going to have to ask you to keep the existence of my children a secret. Bad things tend to happen when people find out."

"To you or to the kids." America's gaze turned steely, melting Latvia's insides with fear.

"Both."

"Ah."

"But let's not talk about that," America clapped his hands, "I think I have some interesting things to show you."

"Really?" Latvia jumped to his feet, pushing his confusion and millions of questions away.

"Yes," America laughed. Not obnoxiously loud but a pleasant chuckle, "I've got quite a library that I think you might enjoy.

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