Need You Now

Shadow of an Echo

A/N This is a one-shot I wrote while I was in deseperate need of distraction when too scattered to work on my established work in progress stories. I promise I will get back to them but I needed something a little different to keep myself occupied. I hope you enjoy it.

XXXXXX Need You NowXXXXXXXX

One night. That was all it took to bring him here. Canada stood on England's door step shivering in the rain. He was working up the courage to knock. He needed help, and England had been the closest Nation that knew him when his troubles started.

Why was Canada in Europe at all? He was looking for Prussia, the instigator of that one night. It was important, very important, that he find the elder nation. He had been ransacking Germany, turning the place upside down in his search. He had known this situation was rapidly approaching and while he had run into Germany a time or two he wasn't willing to trust the Nation would remember him when it came to something this important so he was already in route to England when it started.

He was reminded of his need for help, and the reason for his quest to find Prussia when a vice like pain gripped him around his middle, spreading to his back and making him curl around his large abdomen groaning.

Canada had Prussia's baby resting under his heart, and right now it wanted out.

He let the pain ease before reaching out to knock, knowing he would only have a couple minutes to explain himself before the next one hit. After knocking he heard footsteps coming toward the door, only for it to be opened by a Nation, one who was not England.

He did look a bit like him though, the large eyebrows giving him away as a relative, though his blonde hair was several shades darker than England and he was a bit taller.

Grey eyes widened when they saw the soaking wet Canada standing in front of him, the pitiful sight increasing when he noticed the definite bulge to his middle, and a weak voice asking him, "Please, I need England, is he here?" Canada pleaded.

"He is at a conference with France, I'm his brother Wales." The southern Brit introduced himself. "Come in here before you catch your death." He urged, no matter why he was there he couldn't let the young Nation stand outside in the rain.

Wales led Canada the short distance to the sitting room asking along the way, "Why do you need my brother?"

"I didn't know where else to go," Canada admitted, but he was cut off when another pain hit him, swaying a bit where he stood until Wales steadied him.

"Scot! North! Get in here there's trouble!" Wales called, eyes widening as he put the pieces together and figured out what was going on.

The two other members of the UK were not long in coming, spying the soaked nation clinging onto their brother's arm. The red haired green eyed Scotland, and black haired blue eyed Northern Ireland took in the situation quickly.

Scotland was the first to come close, not hesitating, and his presence was intimidating enough Canada ducked down and tried to cover himself as much as possible, hoping the pain would ease soon.

It did, but not before Scotland had reached out and tilted his head up with one hand to get a good look at him. "You're Canada, you were France's boy and then one of ours."

Surprised at being recognized, Canada found his voice thankful the pain was gone for the moment, "Yes."

Scotland looked him over with a calculating gaze, making Canada shiver a bit, "You're having the bairn aren't you?"

Luckily Canada had heard that term before and nodded, "It's coming." He confessed. The baby proving his words when another pain squeezed him, Wales steadying him through it again. Northern Ireland had come over to them, and he put a comforting hand on Canada's shoulder.

Without warning, Scotland ran a hand down his stomach, settling low, a quick bit of Gaelic that Canada didn't understand later, "That will be better. Adjusted a few things to make this easier, I'll put you back into sorts after the wee one comes."

The reason a male nation could get pregnant was because they were all intersex, able to tap into either side of their population when needed. What Scotland had done was to get the unimportant, for now, portions of his male anatomy out of the way allowing his feminine side full rein.

Canada was left gasping in much need air when he was spoken to again, "Let's get you dried off, you look like a drowned rat." Scotland decided. "North find something suitable for him to wear, Wales help me get him cleaned up." He ordered, North leaving quickly to his task while Wales waited for more instruction.

Scotland leaned down so Canada could hook an arm around his shoulders, while wrapping one of his own arms around Canada's back to help steady him. Wales mirrored him on the other side, and they managed to make it down most of the hallway to the bathroom before they had to stop again feeling the respective arm around their shoulders grip tighter while violet eyes screwed shut.

Once it was over and they were in the bathroom, Scotland kept ahold of him while Wales helped him with the buttons on his clothes, his hands were shaking so bad he couldn't do it very well himself.

While holding onto him, Scotland had to ask him another question, "Who is responsible for this bairn?"

Canada winced but answered, "Prussia, he doesn't know, I was trying to find him when all this started. This was the closest place I could get to."

He couldn't elaborate fully because he was hit with another contraction.

North came in carrying a simple white dressing gown while Canada stood with his head buried in Scotland's chest trying to get comfort through the pain, only his pants left on, "This was Ireland's I don't think she'll mind us using it for something like this."

"No, she won't," Scotland agreed, their fiery sister was not part of the UK but they all still cared about her.

Canada eventually turned back to them, but Scotland kept an arm around him at feeling the trembling in his muscles, the journey there had taken its toll on the young Nation. Using towels they finished drying him off and getting him dressed in the soft clean cloth.

When done Scotland took the initiative and simply carried Canada out of the bathroom and back to the sitting room, hollering to his brothers that they needed to bring towels. North and Wales followed the instructions to spread most of the towels out on the couch first, before he put the laboring Canada down on top of them and pulled up the quilt to start warming him up. "Thank you," The golden blonde mumbled, eyes closing in tiredness.

Wales was the one to ruffle his hair, "We take care of our own, now rest as much as you can, you need it."

Canada barely had the strength to nod, letting himself drift into a doze. Each peak would wake him up, but he could at least get a little rest in between.

North stayed with him, claiming the rocking chair closest to him, but Wales and Scotland retreated to the kitchen to discuss their unexpected guest.

"The fae should already be on their way to tell England, he can collect France, and maybe he'll know how to find Prussia. They are old friends." Scotland planned out.

"Sounds right, but I doubt they are going to make it," Wales observed. "Those pains are really close together. I don't think he has long left before the little one comes."

"I noticed," Scotland agreed, "But I think they should know anyway. Canada will want to see them."

"How did you know which one he was?" Wales asked curiously.

"He was France's. I knew him back then and I've kept an eye on him for France since he came to us." Scotland explained. He wouldn't deny his Auld friend such an important request. "He's a good lad, and he's tough, gave Germany a run for his money in the wars. Not surprised he ended up with a strong Nation like Prussia. Someone was bound to notice him eventually."

"You know, it's kind of nice having him with us. I know he was looking for England and not all of us, but at least this way he has more people taking care of him." Wales admitted.

"It has been awhile since there were colonies running around this place," Most of their territories had grown up and were with their own countries the majority of the time.

Wales headed over to the sink, filling a bowl with cool water, "I'm going to fetch a cloth; the tough part is coming up." He explained.

"Good idea," Scotland approved, "I'll go back in to sit with him and North."

With a nod Wales went off on his errand while Scotland went back to the room with Canada, only to see North tucking him back under the quilt, a few wet towels set off to the side. "His water broke." North explained.

Scotland went over and gripped his hand, kneeling at the side of the couch, "It won't be much longer now." He reassured.

"I know," Canada mumbled, taking comfort in the hand he could squeeze. Once his water had broken the pain had gotten worse.

Wales soon came back with the cloth and water, taking in the situation and realizing what must have happened. He set the bowl on the ground at the head of the couch, wetting the cloth and gently wiping Canada's face and then hands to refresh him. North had come back over to him, running his hands through the messy blonde hair. All three doing their best to take care of their nephew through the painful experience.

Canada had never gotten so much attention at once, and he was soaking it up. He wasn't alone like he feared when he'd found out about the baby. This was his family taking care of him, it had taken a bit for him to recognize it for what it was, but Wales calling him one of their own showed him the truth and he loved every second of it.

All the love couldn't have come at a better time because his labor was getting harder to deal with. Contractions were coming faster and more painful than before, it felt like they were right on top of each other.

"Steady lad, you're doing well," Scotland's voice broke through the haze of pain, the hand covering Canada's squeezing and relaxing in reassurance. He'd been tossing and arching up with the pain, not able to stay still during it.

And now there was an almost unbearable pressure building up alongside the pain. Too wrapped up in the baby to worry about modesty he stretched out settling his body in the crook of the couch, one leg bent and resting against the back, while the other was laying on the cushion underneath him. Most of his dignity was saved by the white gown he wore after the quilt had been jostled off of him.

The position gave the baby room to come down quicker, and soon he was gasping out, "It's coming!" As the urge to push hit him.

It was Scotland who settled at the foot of the couch, Wales and North taking one of his hands each. "Go ahead and push laddie," He urged, but Canada was already doing so before he finished talking.

Two efforts later he started to feel burning pain, skin stretching tight, "It's starting to crown." Scotland gave him the reason for the pain.

He kept pushing, it was hard and it hurt, "Good, half way now." Scotland reassured a few pushes later.

Canada was exhausted by this time, the short rest he had gotten earlier was simply not enough. Wales once again wiped his face with the cool water, while North spoke to him, "Just a few more." He encouraged.

He could feel the baby edging out a little more with the next big effort. So slow, too slow, he wasn't sure he had the strength left for this.

Almost like he could read minds, Wales kissed his temple softly in affection, "You can do it." He said firmly.

This time he curled up as far as he could get, pushing as hard as his dwindling strength allowed. "One more like that and you'll have the head out." Scotland informed with approval.

Gasping for breath he attempted to obey, squeezing the offered hands hard enough to make the brothers wince. The pressure he'd been feeling released as his baby's head was freed.

"You're almost there," Scotland promised, "Get the shoulders out and the rest should be much easier."

Easier said than done. He felt like he was splitting in two as he attempted to push the baby the rest of the way out. Millimeter by millimeter it went a little further out, one shoulder at a time. Finally Scotland spoke again, "One more, just one more, and you will be done."

Gathering as much air as he could, he steeled himself for the final effort, giving it all he had. The baby slid free in a rush of sensation and fluid, the first cry reaching Canada's ears made his violet eyes tear up.

All the pain and effort was forgotten when Scotland laid the warm and messy baby on his chest. "You've got a strong wee lass." He informed before drawing back.

A girl, he had a little girl, he held her close and kissed her head. Not noticing both North and Wales moving around a bit to get a good look at her.

He did notice when Scotland slid up to them, clean towel in hand to help wipe off the baby. Wales took one last long look at the baby before rushing off to get supplies for cutting her cord.

Between the three brothers Canada and his brand new daughter were soon clean and warm in one of the guest rooms. He could barely keep his eyes open, but he didn't want to stop looking over his little girl. It hadn't taken long to notice she had inherited Prussia's albinism. Her fair skin and light hair were beautiful to Canada, she was absolutely perfect.

A bit later North came into his room, "Let us take care of her for a bit, you need sleep. I promise we will keep her safe and she will be right here when you wake up." He advised quietly, not wanting to wake up the sleeping child.

Canada was obviously reluctant, but his eyes were refusing to stay open much longer and his muscles felt like jelly. He did need to rest from the ordeal. Slowly he held out the swaddled baby for North Ireland to take, the dark haired Nation taking utmost care in holding her. "Again, I promise she will be right here when you get up, now sleep, you've earned it."

A slight nod was all he got before Canada passed out against the soft pillow, North smiling at both him and the child who had yet to wake up despite the switch off. That showed just how careful they were in passing her over.

The next time Canada woke he had no idea how long he had slept, but it had to have been several hours, as France and England were in the room, his daughter was in his Papa's arms a soft French lullaby keeping her settled.

"Papa, Dad?" Canada called quietly, letting them know he was awake.

Both of them came over to sit on opposite sides of the bed, France settling the baby on Canada's chest his arms closing around her automatically. "You haven't called us that in a long time." He observed with a smile.

"It just felt right, maybe it's because of her," Canada responded, looking down at his daughter with a loving expression.

England brushed Canada's hair out of his face, "Why didn't you tell anyone about her?"

"I wanted Prussia to know first," Canada admitted, "I've been looking for him, but even Germany wasn't sure where he had gone to."

France was able to clear that up, "He was in Spain, I talked to him, and he should be here any time now. I didn't tell him why, only that it was important. I'd thought you'd like to tell him yourself."

"Thank you Papa," Canada replied in appreciation finally lifting his head to look at the Nations who raised him. "Have you two been here long?"

"Just long enough to get to know this petite belle." France answered stroking the baby's cheek.

England actually agreed with France for once, "She is a little beauty that's for sure. By the way, I called America, it will take him a bit longer but he is coming too."

"Glad someone got ahold of him," Canada approved. "I have no intention of trying to hide her forever, I just thought her father should know first. I didn't get that far though."

"I heard my brothers took care of you, did they treat you well?" England was a tad worried about that, his brothers could be a bit rough around the edges to say the least.

Then again when he thought about it he was the same way a good bit of the time.

"I don't think I would have managed without them," Canada assured. "They took very good care of us. Even called me one of them."

"I'm so sorry you ever doubted that," England responded honestly, "Of course you are one of us. I'll admit probably even more so than America, you stayed longer."

"Angleterre has trouble letting go of the past," France spoke up, "It's not that he forgets you exist it's more he has been hoping America would come back to him. When we have a desire that strong it's hard to see the truth under the shadows."

Another look at his daughter, "I never really saw it like that."

"I always see you," England explained, "I just get you confused on occasions. If it's any comfort I have mixed up other colonies before. There was just so many of you."

He had never been told any of this before, it actually was comforting to hear the truth for once. It was also nice to hear England not deny any of it. He'd thought England would have too much pride to come clean and brush him off. Plus he did have a point, even when England did call him America it meant he truly did see him. Too many other countries treated him like he was invisible, and even if it was a bit sheepish he usually apologized for the mix up at the time.

"You will never be alone Cher," France promised, "No matter what happens." He swept down to kiss his cheek in the way Canada remembered from when he was young.

England reached out to gently sweep a hand over the baby's platinum hair, "Have you named her?"

"I think I'll name her Helene Elizabeth," Canada decided.

France realized it first, "Helene is a German name is it not?"

"Yeah it is, I'd been looking into different names for either a boy or girl while I was searching for Prussia. Helene was a very nice woman I met along the way, and the name stuck with me." Canada explained.

England had been quiet, but now was his chance, "Are you using Elizabeth for the reason I think you are?"

Canada smiled, "Probably, she was a very strong woman and an amazing queen, I hope by using that name my daughter will inherit some of that strength."

Their talk was interrupted by a knock on the door, and Wales stuck his head into the room, "Prussia is here."

"Let him in," Canada requested, his voice going soft in anxiety.

"It will be alright Cher," France noticed his sudden nervousness, "He will love her."

Canada took strength in his words, needing it greatly when the door opened fully and blood red eyes surveyed the room, landing on him with his daughter, and widening in surprise.

France and a reluctant England rose and started to walk passed the stunned Prussian, "I think we'll leave the three of you alone." France explained as he put a hand on his old friend's shoulder, "Take care of them."

Even when they left Prussia still hadn't moved, he was just standing there staring at Canada and Helene. Canada's fear started coming back, prompting him to pull the little girl closer to him protectively.

That snapped Prussia out of his trance, he approached slowly like Canada was a wild animal easily spooked. When he was close enough to see the child, a growing smile lit up his face, "That's my baby?"

Canada was a little more relaxed seeing him smile, "She's yours." He confirmed.

Prussia felt confident enough to sit on the bed right where France had been before, looking them both over happily. "We have a girl?"

"Yes, I named her Helene," Canada definitely liked the word 'we' coming from Prussia. It gave him hope. "Do you want to hold her?"

"Please," Prussia responded excitedly, the proud look on his face when Helene was in his arms was the final reassurance Canada needed to know everything really would be alright.

She looked adorable safely held in his arms, arms Canada knew from experience were strong enough to give America a challenge and he could bench press a Rolls Royce. Instead of being afraid for his daughter, he was reassured she would always be safe just by the look her father was sending her.

Red met violet, with Prussia unusually quiet in the moment, "She's my first you know. I've never had a child of my own before. I helped raise West, but it's not the same." He admitted before looking back to Helene, and Canada was shocked. He was so much older, he had expected Prussia to have at least one or two previous children.

Seeing Canada's surprise had Prussia elaborating, "I haven't had many lovers, and a good portion of those were human. You were different and special, and I wanted to know you. I wonder if you'll ever know how much this means to me."

Canada sat up enough to reach Prussia, laying a hand on his pale arm, "I know, because for once someone saw me who wasn't my family. You gave me something I can never repay. Now we have her, and I've never loved anyone more." He confessed, a little surprised when Prussia leaned over far enough to kiss him gently.

"I want to be your family, one with you, me, and our Helene," Prussia expressed, unknowingly tightening his grip on his daughter, subconsciously afraid she would be taken away from him.

"I'd like that," Canada agreed, laying back down against the pillows still worn out.

Prussia decided to stretch out beside him, snaking one arm over to support Canada tilting his head so the golden blonde could nuzzle into the hollow of his neck, Prussia's other arm holding Helene securely against his chest.

They drifted off to sleep in the peaceful quiet, none of them noticing the door open slightly so France could take a picture of the cute scene.

The next time Canada woke up he was alone in the room, but he heard voices and his daughter's cries coming from the front of the house. It was enough stimulation to have him slowly getting up.

He had been changed before being put into bed the first time, Scotland's clothes the closest size to his own, and he was currently wearing loose blue cotton night clothes.

He was dressed enough to go see what was going on anyway, he didn't think his clothes were dry yet and even if they were he didn't want anything too heavy around his waist right away.

Getting to the living room wasn't particularly easy, walking still hurt, but he pushed through it to get to his daughter. When he finally reached the front room he realized the one holding Helene was America and the others around him were smiling a bit at his panicked expression.

"Give her to me," Canada ordered his brother, making him startle at hearing his unexpected voice. His daughter was handed back by a frazzled America, and in a few minutes she had calmed down in her daddy's arms.

America looked on shocked, before saying, "This is really happening isn't it?" It still kind of felt like a dream to him.

"You didn't notice the crying baby you were holding?" Yes Canada was teasing, but it was hard not to given the situation.

"That's not what I meant!" America protested. "I'm still getting used to the idea she's yours."

Canada chuckled, "I'm still not really used to it, and I had a few more months to prepare for her."

"You should sit down Canada, I doubt its comfortable standing around already," North was the one advising him, and he listened without complaint, taking a spot on the couch that had survived the mess thanks to the towels under him.

Prussia immediately sat next to him, once again putting an arm around him. It felt nice to have him so attentive. "I talked to West and Spain, they are excited to come see her." He informed, a grin sliding in place in reflex when he saw the baby yawn cutely red eyes opened and looking at him.

"I'm fine with them coming, they are your family; are they bringing the Italies?" Canada asked, he knew Spain was more like a brother than friend to Prussia and France despite them not being actually related like Canada was to America. In addition Spain and Germany rarely went anywhere without their respective halves of Italy.

"Spain drags Roma everywhere, and I don't see Veneziano letting West come alone." That was an easy question to answer.

Canada relaxed against Prussia, listening to him talk while looking around the room. He saw all the UK brothers were there, along with America, but France was missing. "Where's Papa?" He asked noticing the absence.

England answered him, "He's making dinner; seems he didn't trust us to do it." He informed with crossed arms, grumpy at the usual slight to his cooking.

America stifled a cough that sounded suspiciously like 'thank god' earning himself a furious glare from his former caretaker. "That's enough out of you!" England chastised.

"What? I didn't say anything!" America protested innocently.

No one bought it, but it was Scotland who commented, "I wouldn't get mad at him little brother, you used to do the same thing."

Soft laughter from the couch had the Scotsman turning around to see Canada laughing at them, it was amusing to imagine England acting as defiant as America. He was normally so uptight. "This one though, he's got more of France to him." Scotland observed, quieting the laughing Canadian, but he still had a smile on his face.

In return Canada looked between Scotland and his daughter, gesturing at the oldest brother to take her if he wanted. On his part the red head went over and scooped up the baby, kicked England out of the rocking chair, and sat down with her bottom resting against his lap with both arms supporting her back and head so he could look her over thoroughly.

"Sure she doesn't cry with you," America grumbled, but sidled closer to his uncle so he could look at his niece too.

Scotland scoffed, "You have no idea how many times I've done this. I've even held you a time or two."

North explained what Scotland didn't, "He's the oldest of us. He had a hand in raising me, Ireland, Wales, and England. Plus England did bring the young colonies here every once and a while."

"Don't forget mine, my dear Auld friend has met several of my colonies too. Including you Canada before Angleterre got a hold of you." France was back in the room, leaving whatever he was making to cook unattended in the kitchen. No one was worried about it, as much as England grumbled about it, they knew he was the best cook there.

America ducked down, "I didn't know. England didn't tell us anything about that."

"He's the youngest, we may have teased him a little," Wales informed with a smirk. "I don't think he wanted us influencing you when you got old enough to remember us."

"A little?" England protested, "You bloody tortured me!"

"Now, now England, not around the baby," North chastised mockingly.

You could practically see the steam come out of England's ears as his face burned red.

"Please don't be a bad influence on my daughter already," Canada spoke up, catching on to the joke and hiding a smirk.

"You! You're getting as bad as America!" England couldn't believe that had come from sweet little Canada.

Canada just shrugged, "What did you expect? He is my brother." America and him shared a grin after that.

Not long after France was calling everyone to supper, helping Canada get to the table himself, while Prussia held Helene. Prussia was a natural with her, and he never stopped smiling while holding his daughter. Canada had never seen someone show more pride in anything before.

America finished first unsurprisingly, he snatched up Helene so Prussia could eat. At least she didn't immediately start crying again. He was actually managing to keep calm, not wanting to jostle her around. He was also smiling while looking at her, but it had nothing on Prussia's.

Canada watched him quietly, and looked around the table at everyone sitting with him, they had come together to welcome his daughter, no matter how much some of them had fought in the past they had come. He'd spent so long worrying that he would be alone in having and raising her. This, this was beyond anything he could have imagined.

England noticed his watching, "You look happy," He observed.

"I have a lot to be happy about," Canada admitted. "Everyone is here, together, for her."

"That's what family does," Wales said quietly, but everyone heard him.

Prussia leaned over and kissed his cheek, "Things will be different for you now."

"Children have a way of bringing people together," North affirmed.

No one thought anyone could beat Prussia's smile, they were proven wrong when Canada lit up as brightly as the sun.

It was another few hours before more guests arrived. Germany and Italy had gotten there. When they walked into the room Prussia was standing, Helene in his arms, swaying back and forth to get her to go back to sleep.

He looked up in time to see Germany's gob smacked expression, "West, I'm a vatti." Apparently Prussia hadn't informed him exactly why he needed to come to England's house.

Germany looked absolutely terrified when the baby was plopped in his arms by Prussia, his large arms dwarfed her and she felt so delicate. He didn't want to hurt her. Veneziano came up next to him, cooing at the baby with a huge smile on his face. "She's so cute!" The Northern Italian complimented, a few plots going through his head as he looked at Germany holding onto the newborn. He would be a good father, it would be a shame not to give him a chance to be one.

"Thank you," Canada responded to the praise softly, he knew these two from meetings, but not much else when there wasn't a battle happening. He tended to be quiet around people he was relatively unfamiliar with.

Spain was not far behind Germany, and with him was an overtly disgruntled Southern Italy, but Romano was doing a fairly poor job of hiding his own fascination with the baby. He liked children, something most other nations probably wouldn't have suspected of him, but his twin, Spain, France, Prussia, and Austria were aware of it just from spending time around him as he grew up.

America was disgruntled to realize he really was the only one that Helene had cried with, well without a definite reason other than who was holding her. Even the normally hyperactive Spain and usually grumpy Romano managed to hold onto her without discomforting her.

Wales saw America's reaction and patted his shoulder softly. "Relax, it's just experience, you'll pick it up too once you get used to being around her. It will come in handy if you have children or young colonies of your own someday."

"Well then how can he do it!?" America protested, pointing at Romano sharply, making the volatile Italian prickle in irritation.

"You do remember I'm older than you, right?" Romano pointed out, attempting to keep his voice low so he wouldn't upset Helene, also he was curbing the urge to swear, even if the baby was too young to understand it he simply did not curse around children. "How would you know what I can and can't do?"

"Fratello is better with children than I am," Veneziano admitted without prompting, breaking into the conversation.

At the gob-smacked expressions Spain had to smile while Romano glowered, "Hard to believe, but it's true, Roma is good with children."

The light squabbling and teasing continued throughout the evening, leaving everyone in a surprisingly good mood as the UK brothers scrounged up places for people to sleep, enjoying having the large typically empty house full of people again.

And it was all because one scared colony showed up shivering on their doorstep, ready to deliver a little bundle of hope.