A/N: We are back with the sequel to Prisoner. This one is going to be much longer, a big collab between several writers. History notes will be posted at the end of each chapter. Once again tissues will be needed kiddies as the fic goes on. Here is who all is involved in this massive project: WrathChu, Fire In His Eyes, Golden Korat, gwendal's wife and –. The lyrics for Paper Airplanes will be scattered throughout this story, to be forewarned. Enjoy kiddies as well as get a history lesson. The OCs in this story are all RP-based, as are the relationships that will be occurring throughout the story.


Pairings: Canon: America/Lithuania, Russia/Lithuania, Implied Germany/Austria OCs: Washington D.C./Armagh, North Ireland; Vilinus/Trenton, N.J.

Setting: Modern, WWII (1942-1943)

*= Note/Translation at the bottom.

Copyrights: Hetalia, America, Lithuania, Austria, Latvia, Germany, Austria and Russia belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. Washington D.C. (Daniel Conner Jones) belongs to me. Vilinus (Daina Jones) belongs to Fire In His Eyes. Armagh, North Ireland (Aislinn Wilson) belongs to GoldenKorat. Trenton (Trenton DeLuca), North Jersey (Ace DeLuca), and South Jersey (Alex DeLuca) New Jersey belongs to Vantivilligo. Texas (Christine Taylor) belongs to Bassguitarchick.

Modern Day

Cleaning out the storage room again, wonderful. Or at least…Going to try too. Alfred figured that with the first time he at least tried to clean out his storage room in the other side of the house and how little work he had gotten done back in 1920 when he quote unquote tried to do it the first time. Back in the roaring 20's when Lithuania was living with him for the first time, when he still was considered to be live-in help brought to him by England. Since then, Lithuania had become much more than just as a roommate who did a lot of the chores. He was one of his best friends, his lover, and his wife.

Despite Liet asking him to at least attempt to clean out the storage area to make more room, he wasn't sure if he really could. So much history sat untouched in the storage room in the assortment of many different objects. His own history from the time he was a boy, even back before he was found running in the Great Plains and adopted by England. Toy tin soldiers that were rusted with time, his first suit, the gun he himself used during his fight for independence against the man who he had come to now see as a father figure, his Revolutionary uniform...Each a token that stood against the test of over 300 years as he continued to grow. Not only as a strong nation, also as he grew into a man.

Nostalgia swept through his body as he took the walk toward the room at the far end of the house, the low thud of his boots filling his ears with each step on the wooden floor. Each step, now that he actually thought about it, reminded him of something important though he couldn't put a finger on what exactly it was. Something from his not-so-distant past, that had to be it...But...What was it?

"Damn it...Watch I'll remember what it is when I'm not thinking about?" He murmured to himself, his tone holding a flat note. He shifted his arms slightly to get a better grip on the large cardboard box he was carrying, the shift making his glasses try and slip down the bridge of his nose. Alfred let out a quiet sigh as he shook his head, looking forward as his gaze focused on the door in front of him.

The storage room, the one room that hadn't had a visitor in over 80 years for his own... Personal reasons. He just stared blankly at the door for a few minutes, as if the nation was contemplating with himself if he wanted to go in the room or not. Many different thoughts were running rapidly through his mind, none in any specific order. He shook his head as he snapped out of his thoughts once he heard the quiet and timid voice of a young boy coming from down the hall, listening as the steps became louder as he came closer.

"Papa? Ar tau viskas gerai?* Why are you just standing there and staring at the door? Mama asked me to make sure you were actually doing what he told you to do."

Alfred looked toward the boy, a small smile beginning to tug at his lips. He should have expected this from his son, Daniel was his mother's boy especially with his bad habit of switching languages on him when his son knew he couldn't understand what he was saying when he did. The fourteen-year-old had grown so much, it still stunned Alfred how tall and lanky he was with his standing of 5'5". As he grew, he began to look more and more like his old man; bright blue eyes shining with curiosity behind still to big glasses, his longer brown hair was pulled back into a low pony-tail and hung loosely over his shoulder. The boy was a mixture between him and Liet. Though they could tell from the time he was very young, he would grow to be more like his Baltic mother...And he did.

Alfred chuckled as the boy looked at his father with questioning eyes, closing his eyes. "I'm fine Danny, you didn't have to come check on me. Actually...Do you want to help me go through my storage room? You'll get to learn a few things about how awesome your old man is." America snickered to himself, taking note of the look and the raising of the brow that his son was giving him. Can't please everyone, even though he tries too. "Ok ok, that was bad I get it. I could use the help though, and I know how much you like history...You'll get to see some of the things that were used first hand. Like the glasses that you're wearing, the ones I gave you when you were little? They're my original glasses, your Aunt Texas gave them to me after the Revolutionary War when my sight started going bad."

"I know about that Papa, Auntie told me." Daniel said with a light shrug and a small smile, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. "Sure though...I'll help. Dai's out with Trent so there's really nothing else to do."

Alfred couldn't help but grin, nodding as his hand fell onto the cool doorknob before giving it a turn. The door let out a loud creak as it was pushed open, as if the hinges hadn't been oiled in many years. He walked into the dark, musty room with his son following behind him. The room was covered with dust and cobwebs, boxes were piled on top of one another, different items from his past were scattered around the room. The two stared at the room for a couple of minutes before the older man found the string for the light, giving it a pull before a dull yellow light filled the dank room. "Well...Let's get to work then!" He chuckled, as he went toward one of the nearest boxes to go through as Daniel went to do the same.

Cleaning and father/son bonding continued for the good part of an hour before something caught the corner of Alfred's eye. A medium-sized cherry-wood box; something that wouldn't really be noticed unless someone was actually looking for it. Something about the box drew the man toward it, though off the top of his head he couldn't remember what it actually contained. He dropped what he was doing and got up, walking toward it. He got on his knees in front of the box, inspecting the intricate detail work on the wooden lid; the box being held closed by a gold clasp. There was something very...Sad about this box. He was about to find out why...One of the big events in all of their pasts that he had pushed to the back of his mind...Until now.

"Papa? What did you find?" Daniel asked, looking back at his father as he sat down one of the rusted tin soldiers.

He didn't hear his son as he stared at the box, his slightly shaking hands raised the gold clasp, opening the wooden lid to show what was hidden inside. Alfred's eyes immediately widened with what he saw, he couldn't believe that these were still in this house. Letters. Many different letters in different handwriting, the paper having slightly browned over the course of 60 years but were still easily readable; the creases were still present from how they were folded all those years ago. His bangs covered his eyes as his body slightly began to shake, each horrible memory from those that year ran through his head like a movie reel.

Treblinka. One place he desperately wanted to forget, the time he wanted his family to forget. He and Liet had shared letters while he and the children were there, each folded into paper airplanes so they could fly over the fence into the other's waiting hands. Hell on Earth, that was the only way to describe Treblinka. His hand clutched at the crucifix hanging around his neck as he picked up one of the letters, his mind drifting back to the day everything had happened...The day their worlds were ripped apart.

One time, at one place

In this world

We communicate through paper airplanes


*Translation (Lithuanian): Are you ok?

History Notes: Treblinka Concentration Camp, operational between July 1942-October 1943. The camp was built near Warsaw, many Jews from the Warsaw ghetto and around Poland were sent there. While operational, it was both a work and death camp. It was dubbed by one of the surviving Jews of the camp named Vasily Grossman as "A Hell Called Treblinka." More notes and information on Treblinka will be revealed as the story goes on.

Notes: The idea for Paper Airplanes not only came from the Vocaloid songs, Prisoner and Paper Airplanes, but also from the children's story "Boy In the Striped Pajamas." They communicated by writing letters, folding them into paper airplanes, and sending them over the fence. The box not only contains letters that Alfred and Toris wrote to one another during that year, but also letters between Daniel and Aislinn, as well as Daina and Trenton.

Next chapter will be out very soon, please read and review!