Author's Note: So this is my first Hetalia fanfic so I apologize if anyone is out of character! I'm really excited and hope you like it! And remember, constructive criticism is always welcome. :)

These United Nations meeting seemed to go on forever.

England rubbed his temple, groaning softly. He was trying to pay attention, he really was, but he was in such agony that he just couldn't focus. If he hadn't known better he might have thought he had a hangover.

Other than his head threatening to implode. The meeting was the same as any other.

Italy had long since stopped paying attention to the meeting and was currently doodling, Germany hadn't noticed yet but would undoubtedly be scolding him any moment now. France was his usual flamboyant self. Russia smiled and laughed creepily at the spectacle all around him. America was saying something bombastic and ridiculous and Japan was agreeing with him. China was muttering to himself about how everyone should listen to him because he's the oldest. Which wasn't even true anyway.

England ran a hand through his hair. He just wanted to get this horrible day over with.

Maybe tonight he could finally get some sleep...

"Hello? Earth to Britain! YO!"

England flinched in response and glared at America. "WHAT!?"

"Dude, you look like you're gonna hurl!" The obnoxious laughter was like a drill in England's head as America placed a hand on his shoulder.

He heard France chuckle lightly. "You do look worse than usual, Angleterre."

Wanker.

"Get away from me!" He snapped, standing up and slapping America's hand away. "I already told you I'm..." Too fast. He was dizzy, his legs giving out suddenly, causing him to fall.

There was a collective shout as he fell. His forehead striking the table on the way down.

"Britain!?"

"What on earth?"

"Is he okay...?"

England groaned and blinked to clear his vision. Slowly the faces of America, France, and... Canada...? Yes, Canada. Came into focus. They stood above him and stared down with varying levels of concern or amusement.

"Damn dude! You're bleeding!"

"What?" That can't be right. He reached up, gingerly touching his forehead. When he pulled back his hand, sure enough, his fingers were covered with blood.

"Every one calm down!" Germany snapped.

England sat up, still staring at the blood. He felt his lips twitch involuntarily.

"Ha... Ha ha..." Suddenly, a torrent of laughter and chuckles burst from inside him. Full of mirth and even whimsy, it just wouldn't stop. "Ha ha ha! Heh heh! Hahahaaaa~"

America grabbed his shoulders, shaking him slightly. "Britain? Dude! Snap out of it!"

England began to take quick breaths, trying to regain his composure. Slowly, the laughter trickled down to giggles, then chuckling. Soon, he was left breathless and more than a little disturbed. He had no idea what had just happened to him.

"Perhaps you should call a doctor, America." Germany's voice was quiet but steady as he eyed England with a hint of something akin to concern. "We should reschedule this meeting."

England shook his head. "I just need to go home." He tried to stand alone but America wouldn't release him. America pulled him up the rest of the way and allowed England to steady himself by grabbing his shoulder.

"No problem, dude! We can do both."

Too tired and dazed to argue he allowed America to lead him out of the conference room while the rest of the nations exchanged puzzled looks and began gossiping loudly.

It was a godsend when England found himself back in his home.

His forehead was mostly healed, only the scar remaining that would fade in the next few days. One of the perks of being a country.

America had stayed with him the entire time, despite England's protests, though secretly he was pleased to see that idiot worried about him for once.

England sighed as he fell into his favorite chair.

"You need anything else before I head out?" America asked, being surprisingly thoughtful.

"A cup of tea would be lovely." He mumbled almost absentmindedly before eyeing America warily. "You do remember how to make tea, don't you?" After all these years of drinking coffee just to be spiteful, England wouldn't have been surprised.

"No prob! Just sit back and let the HERO do the work."

England inwardly groaned as America ran off. Everything wrong with America, he blamed on France.

Leaning back in his chair, England let his eyes droop close but he just couldn't find a comfortable spot. After a few minutes of readjusting he finally gave up. He was just about to stand to go check on America when he noticed something on the table across the room.

Sitting on a plate sat a... fairy cake?

He stared at it for a moment. Blinking once, twice, as if he expected it to disappear.

England stood and approached the table picking up the small sweet and examining it. It looked and smelled delicious, with light pink, almost white frosting and blue sprinkles. Who on earth left this here? Wales perhaps? Not Scotland, surely.

"Here's your tea!" America shouted while bursting into the room, holding a cup of tea. His eyes landed on the treat in England's hands. "Ooh! Cupcakes! Can I have one? Come on dude, pleeeease?"

"Yes! Yes, fine, just take it and give me my tea!" He and America switched. England took a very small sip, it wasn't as good as he was used to but it was good enough for now.

America was gleefully peeling away the wrapper. He was about to take a bite but jerked to a halt. "Hold on. Did you make this?"

"What is that supposed to mean!?" He snapped. He had long ago lost patience with people insulting his cuisine. "No, for your information, I didn't make it."

America smiled, brilliantly. "Cool!" He took a big bite, practically shoving the whole thing into his mouth all at once. "Mmmm~!"

England sat down in the chair again, taking another sip of tea.

He watched America out of the corner of his eye. The fool practically inhaled the cupcake, leaving just a slight smear of icing on the corner of his mouth. He noisily licked his fingers before sighing contently. "Damn, that was awesome! I can't remember the last time I had a cupcake that good!"

"Yes, well, thanks for your help. You may leave now."

America frowned. "You know, it wouldn't kill ya to be a little nicer."

England rolled his eyes. "And it wouldn't kill you to eat like a regular human being. Do you even have a chance to taste the garbage you eat on a daily basis?"

America huffed, indignantly. "Yeah, whatever man." But his expression grew serious after a moment. "Hey, Britain? Are you sure you're alright?"

England nodded. "Of course. I've just... had some difficulty sleeping is all. A good night sleep and I'll be right as rain." He sounded far more confident then he actually felt.

"Really? You can't sleep?"

England shook his head. It wasn't that he couldn't sleep... it was just whenever he did sleep... "I've just... been having some strange dreams lately."

"You mean like nightmares? What about?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure." No matter how hard he tried, he never could remember what the dreams were about. But it was the same every night. He'd wake up, heart pounding in terror at something he couldn't remember, covered in sweat. "It's not important. I'm alright now, thank you for your help."

"If you're sure. See ya." And with that, America casually strode out of the room.

England sighed and listened as America's footsteps got further away, followed by the familiar sound of the front door opening and closing.

Finishing his tea, England placed the cup in the sink. He was far too exhausted to do any dishes now.

He'd handle it in the morning.

A deep, noisy yawn escaped him and he felt the call of pillows and bed sheets. He peeled off his jacket, his pants, and his tie. He didn't even bother putting on his usual plaid pajamas and collapsed into the bed.

An uneasy feeling churned in the pit of his stomach.

Let tonight's rest be a pleasant one...

England opened his eyes, a little surprised. He hadn't remembered closing them...

Examining his surroundings, horror crept through him.

He was at the bottom step of a long, spiral staircase that went upwards into the reddish haze above. The walls were adorned with various items, from the seemingly innocent paintings of flowers to patterns created with bones, molding into the surface. Sometimes it appears as if the hands were reaching out from the wall itself, as if becoming for rescue. There were mirrors everywhere, often with reddish water that ran down to the tiles in an unending torrent.

His memories flooded back, as they had every night previous since this ordeal began. Always rushing back to him in sleep but vanishing as soon as he woke up.

"Bollocks."

The giggling erupted once again. Adrenaline rushed through him as England forced himself up, spinning around to face the abomination he knew was standing behind him. Grinning as usual.

"Welcome back, we've been waiting for you~!"

England forgot to breathe as his eyes confirmed the scene before him.

There were six of them in all, faces familiar yet different from the ones he knew so well. And in front of them all, stood him.

He was the same height as England but he appeared taller due to standing on the steps. His hair was similarly cut only lighter, almost platinum blonde, his eyes were bright blue. His clothes were crisp and clean. His ridiculous bow tie perfectly pristine.

So deceptively similar.