Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Chuckie or anything. I don't even own the first line- my friend does. This is rated K+ for mild language. Let's get with the storytime~


HEY DUDE WANNA COME TO A PARTAY AT IGGY'S- #MURICA

Russia quickly translated the text message into Russian, and guessed that #MURICA meant his capitalist friend. He probably invited everyone in his contact list to the party. He translated his own message into English so America could read it:

WHAT IS IN IT FOR ME? -RUSSIA

USE UR IMAGINATION ;) -#MURICA

Russia rolled his eyes. Being friendless except for the other Soviets (who either feared or were creepily obsessed with him) he had no idea what would happen at a party. It was probably like a less violent war.

I WILL BE THERE IN FEW HOURS. -RUSSIA

Russia shut off his phone and began getting ready. He put a bottle of vodka and a loaded shotgun in the large inside pockets of his trenchcoat- just in case- and headed out to his private jet.


Russia's large brown boots clomped up the front steps to England's house. He ignored the non-moving guards in front of the building and rang the doorbell. While he waited for a response, he noticed a few things that were a bit off. A party, according to the internet, typically consisted of many people and could get quite noisy. There weren't any vehicles around, or signs of people at all for that matter. Russia dismissed this because he could've been the first one there. It still bugged him that it took so long to answer the door when guests were expected, though. He rang the doorbell again, and heard muffled steps through the door.

"Dudes, please just close the door! It'll take like two seconds!" Alfred yelled, and flung open the door.

"Hey dude! Glad you could make it, I was totally bored outta my freakin' mind. Come on in!" Russia walked awkwardly through the small doorway, following Alfred into the kitchen.

"Can I get you anything? Take your coat?" America offered, getting a Coke for himself.

Something was definitely weird here. America was too friendly, and it didn't seem like he expected a large gathering. "N-nyet, don't take coat. Where is rest of party?"

Alfred laughed nervously. "I, uh, told a little white lie. See, I was hangin' out with Iggy when France showed up, and they started, uh, being together and left me all alone. So I invited you over here to keep me company." A perfectly timed moan came from the next room over.

Russia suddenly understood the situation America was hinting at. He sighed in relief at the lack of social pressure. "So no party? Just you and me?"

"Hells yeah, man! Whataya wanna do?"

Russia thought for a moment. He felt like reading or drinking, but America didn't like reading and was a pain in the ass when drunk. "Watch movie, da? What do you recommend?"

"Chuckie, 100%. C'mon!" America ran at record speed straight to Arthur's couch and plopped down on one side. Russia sat uncomfortably on the other side while Al fiddled with a remote. Eventually the title screen appeared on screen, the only light in the room.

"Bro, I'm already so freakin' terrified!" America said obnoxiously, his voice shaking slightly.

Russia watched the movie for a while and felt nothing. The doll came to life- not set in reality at all. There was nothing to be afraid of. His dirty blonde friend across the couch was squealing and squirming in his seat, though.

"Fredka, are you alright?" Russia inquired. America only screamed in response. He turned back to the movie. The doll was currently attacking a showering woman. How like an American movie to include unrelated sexual themes.

Suddenly a huge weight fell into his lap. "AAAAGHH SO FREAKIN SCARY! What did that poor naked lady ever do to the evil doll?! I swear I'm never touching my teddy bear again!" America screamed as he snuggled his face into Ivan's trenchcoat, curled up on his lap.

Russia ignored his suddenly pounding heart. "I-It's not real, Fredka. Dolls don't come to life. Besides, you are not naked woman, da?"

America looked up, tears on his cheeks. "A-Are you s-sure?" He choked out.

"I can assure you, you are not woman."

"No, that I'm safe?" America said seriously.

Russia set his arm on America's back, running his fingers through the messy hair. "Of course you are safe. Don't be afraid." He smiled calmly down at the American. Al's cheeks turned red. He turned over in Ivan's lap to keep watching the movie, sucking his thumb anxiously. Russia kept his arm around America, who held his hand in front of his chest. Through the rest of the movie, America only flinched a couple more times, and Ivan tightened his grip around his torso and squeezed his hand gently each time.

A few minutes before the movie ended, Russia fell asleep and slouched sideways onto the couch. America looked up, concerned, when the Russian's hand fell away. He ran into the hall to grab a blanket and snuggled up next to Ivan again. Soon, he was asleep too.


Russia woke up startled. America was kicking his legs and whining, obviously having a nightmare. He sighed, and moved America's glasses to a nearby table. He adjusted the blanket, wrapped his arm snugly around the younger man's waist, and grabbed his hand. America quickly stopped squirming around, and a small smile came to his sleeping face. Ivan mirrored his expression, closing his eyes and nuzzling his nose into Alfred's hair. He soon fell back to sleep.


The next morning, France awoke to the smell of... death. Oh god, he's cooking! He quickly dashed out to the kitchen before the smoke alarm went off.

"Angelterre! What on Earth are you doing, mon ami?" France yelled at the aproned Brit.

"I'm just cooking us some breakfast. Is Alfred still here? I'm not sure how many scones to make."

"None! You're the only person who eats zem, slowly poisoning your beautiful body!"

"Shut up, frog!" England retorted. "Why don't you go wait in the living room, then."

France snorted and sauntered into the living room, to find quite the sight.

Alfred was still in the house, all right, along with the one nation that terrified the world- Russia. They were both fast asleep, in each other's arms on the couch.

"Eh, mon ami? You might want to come see zis."

England walked into the room, spatula in hand. He instantly got a look of shock and disgust. "What is that walking terror doing in my house?!"

"It looks as if Amerique invited him. Ah, he 'as found love! How beautiful!" France sung, before dancing off into the kitchen to throw away some scones.