England's magic goes wrong. The result? Chibi!Spain, Chibi!Prussia and Chibi!France!

Wait!

Uh-oh...

This can't be good…

Warning: Crack, kinda family stuff, the roles were reversed (?), absolutely no historical reference or accuracy or anything like that. Cover pic NOT mine, and also i suck at titles, which you probably realized. Oh, and I go un-beta-ed.

Mild Spamano and FrUk if you want to see it as such, though this is NOT shotacon.

Also, I should warn you that this chapter is toxic. I think I might have gotten diabetes while writing about chibi!France right there…


"Damn eyebrow bastard! What have you…" Romano paused his shouting momentarily once he had entered England's front door –more like barged inside. He had ran to the airport in a frenzy upon receiving England's call a few hours earlier and then had made sure to give the driver an extra tip to get him to England's house as fast as he could through the rainy streets of London. Now, he found himself frozen in place, unable to move even his eyelids, gaze glued on the mess that had once probably –most likely- been England's living room. "…done…"

Books were scattered all around the floor. The table was lying overturned and a couple of chairs had been thrown to the floor: one was on the floor while another had been caught on a shelf of the bookcase, merely balancing. A vase had been broken and the flowers as well as the water that had once been inside it were now decorating the carpet.

But despite the unruly mess, the most astonishing thing was neither the broken picture frames, nor the plant in the corner that now laid broken, upside-down.

"Glad," England coughed, walking up behind him, "you came. I could use some… err… erlph." He cleared his throat again and loosened the knot of his tie before making another try to pronounce the word. "…help…?"

"I'll conquer your vital regions! Kesesesese!" Prussia yelled, jumping from the back of the couch to land directly on Spain's back, who fell the floor with a thud, face-first. Once he recovered from the shock he exchanged the surprised look for a pouty one.

"Oh mon ami… Why you must be so-"

"Awesome?"

"Zat… iz not ze word I 'ad in mind. Non."

Now, this would normally have been a normal situation. Only normally the Bad touch trio wasn't a bunch of five-year-olds.

Wait, let me rephrase that.

Normally, they weren't a bunch of five-year-olds appearance-wise. Because they certainly acted as such too many times to count.

England grabbed Romano's upper arm and ushered him to the kitchen. This took Romano out of his trance. "Che cazzo? What the hell have you done you damn eyebrow bastard? Wait! I don't care and I'm not sure I want to know! Just undo it, right now!"

"I can't." England said, unfazed by Romano's outburst, quietly sipping his tea while holding the delicate china carefully in his hands.

"The hell with that, bastardo! Spagna was enough pain in the ass as he was already!"

"I can't say I'm pleased with this situation. It was merely an… accident. And now we'll have to cope for… a week or so. That's why I called you."

"A week?" Okay… maybe… just maybe. Thinking about it… it couldn't be that terrible, right? And if it was only for a week…

There was shattering noise, like glass breaking, or a window thrashing, or a damn explosion for all they knew and they both exchanged a quick wide-eyed glance before sprinting to the living room.

"Shite!"

Prussia was rolling on the couch and laughing like a maniac, Spain had a guilty look on his face, pouting, hands fidgeting behind his back while France…

France was sitting on the floor, bottom lip trembling, looking around him like a kicked puppy in the midst of glass shards.

"Who did this? Explain right now, you bloody gits!" That was when France started crying full on. "Oh no no no!" Arthur rushed towards him, scooping him up careful of the broken glass. "Did you hurt yourself? 'Coz I don't care if you did!" France paused for a moment to stare up at England teary-eyed before resuming crying even harder than before. "Okay! Okay! Just stop crying now."

Despite half his mind being wary still, maybe even more so than before, he brushed a hand through the wavy golden hair and held the crying child closer. Anything to stop this cacophony, he told himself.

"Which one of you three did… this?" Romano asked, resulting in Spain rushing to hide behind him, hugging his knee and Prussia's laughter to quiet down into a silent but not at all less obnoxious grin.

"Yes, I would like to know who brought down my whole bloody window."

"Spagna?" The grip on his knee tightened. Romano didn't shake him off, but didn't like what this guilt indicated. His suspicion was growing stronger by the second. "Was it you?"

"Gilbert made me!" he shouted instantly, immediately after he hid completely behind Lovino's legs, gripping the end of his jacket as if his life depended on it. The grin instantly vanished from Gilbert's face as he jumped upright and made a dive for Spain.

"You traitor!" he yelled and Spain yelped, jumping up in Romano's arms who instinctively caught him and held him so that it was impossible for the albino to reach him.

"Shh! Down boy!" Romano resisted the urge to chuckle, despite himself, and focus on the seriousness of the situation. "There's no desert for you tonight," he was about to say 'potato-bastard' but thought better of it "Gilbert," he finished instead. Even though this Prussia might be even more annoying than the grown-up Prussia, he couldn't bring himself to call a child names. Even if it was this particular one.

Upon registering the trade-mark smile that had re-appeared on Spain's face Romano added, "And you two are helping clean these shit up". Spain whined, clutching on Romano's neck and trying to be a sweetheart, making cute faces that Lovino had to look away from. Prussia was of course deemed to make a fuss.

He walked over to sit at the edge of the couch –which happened to be one of the very few things still standing in the room- , pouting, with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs dangling from it. "So un-awesome," he grumbled.

Somewhere in the middle of these, France had stopped crying and was now regarding the others in the room with curious, wide, blue eyes that were red and puffy from crying. He wasn't showing any intention of letting England go anytime soon, either. This little version of Francis appeared to be just as clingy –if not more so- as his adult version, only now he wasn't trying to molest the Brit in any way: merely fisting his vest and snuggling close, with his cheek pressed tightly against the man's chest.


Che cazzo?: (Italian) What the fuck?

Now, let me help make some things clearer.

England probably got pissed at the bad touch trio and tried to put a spell on them, but it somehow took a wrong turn and resulted to them becoming children again. They have all the memories of their countries etc. as if they were their real age, but will think and act like children.

For example, Spain might call Romano 'Lovi' at some point, and will be affectionate towards him to the maximum, but only as a child can be. This isn't shota or anything like it. This idea just popped into my mind and I just HAD to write it.

Oh, and about my head canon for this…

Prussia will be mostly like the awesomeness we know so well: he will be rude, loud and obnoxious plus he will try to attract attention to himself in fear of being alone because let's face it, right now he's a child for REAL.

Spain will be the oblivious, sweet and cute bastard he is, and even though it's pissing me off in the 'reality' of Hetalia (don't get me wrong, Spamano is my second OTP, next to FrUk) here it will be kinda justified and cute, because, again, he is a child.

As for France… I might have made him a bit of a cry baby, but he's cute, is he not? I couldn't deny this cuteness and I wanted somehow to make England loosen up and all that crap.

And now I'm going, because I'm ranting, and I want to write the second chapter. I can't decide if they are going to the park in the second chapter or… whatever…