Little Lights of Hope
By: Aubrie1234
Allan didn't like killing people, but to him, it helped blow off steam. He never enjoyed it and wished that Alfred would let him live in his world, at least for a while, but knew it would never happen. He wanted something different, something happy in his life. But he knew that would also never happen, as nothing every really made him happy except annoying and teasing others, especially his family.
He carried his infamous bat over his shoulder as he walked home, the bat covered in layers of dried blood. The killings had been barely an hour ago, but no one really cared. In this world, it was either kill or be killed, and everyone except the Nations always feared for their lives. Many of them even feared their own countries, especially Oliver's, Luciano's, and Flavio's. Englishmen and Italians had moved to Belarus and Hungary to escape their personifications so they wouldn't be killed, but even there they weren't safe. No one was safe in this world.
Allan's house was out of the city, in the deserted country, and very small, compared to everyone else's. It was just one of two houses he had, though. Because he lived alone, it was built for one person. His other house, though, he had made when the States were still around. It was abandoned now, but he always made sure it was taken care of, in the hopeless hope that, someday, he would have States and a capital to fill it with.
It was a giant mansion, big enough to hold 50 of them, himself, his capital, and quite a few more. He had built it on the West Coast, near the beach, so the kids could play. The States, the 13 he had, were the lights of his life. But then Oliver had to show him the harsh realities of the world. Allan's heart always ached when he thought of his States and what Oliver had done, also making sure there would be no more personifications of the States, or even his capital. That was the only bad blood between them, and was a very dangerous topic with Oliver. Depending on how Allan would approach it, Oliver would either go instantly to his insane personality, cry and apologize, or scoff and say it was what he needed. And it always ended with Allan's tears in the end, though they weren't always silent.
Allan stopped shortly before his smaller house. It looked almost like a shack, but was perfect for how he lived. However, something didn't seem to feel right. Were some of the emotionless killers of the city inside, waiting to kill him so they could finally have a city at rest? No, they couldn't have; people were too scared of him. Could one of his family be waiting for him? No, they would never wait for him if he wasn't home; no one ever really visited him in the first place. Cautiously, he walked up to the door while tightly gripping his bat. Using one hand, he slowly opened the door, prepared for anything.
"Daddy?" came a chorus of young voices.
Well, almost anything. In surprise and shock, Allan dropped his bat, staring inside his house. Ranging from 10 to 1 were 51 kids, who were all over the place, crammed everywhere. At the sight of him and the bat, they all became scared.
"W-who are you?" one asked, "You're not Daddy." It was a boy of about 5 with white hair, ice blue eyes, fair skin, and heavy winter-like clothing: a furry brown leather jacket, thick blue sweater, dark green pants, and black lace-up boots; he sort of reminded Allan of a mixture of Alfred and Ivan. He, along with most of the rest, were too afraid to move. Briefly, as he glanced around, he wondered how the f***ing h**l they got into his house. Then he spotted the oldest among them.
He was a boy of about ten with light brown eyes, medium-length sandy hair that had twelve braids in it, fair skin, and sort-of fancy clothing: a tied-on Tricorn hat, blue waistcoat, red shirt, brown pants, and black dress shoes. He held himself like a leader and was one of the few who seemed to not be afraid of him. However, Allan knew exactly who he was. Even if the colors and personality were different, he knew the boy was Delaware. It wasn't the same Delaware he had known, but the face was the same. Glancing around, he found the faces of the rest of the 13, but they were all different, though seemingly all the same age.
Connecticut was a boy with dark blue eyes, short dirty blond hair, slightly tanned skin, and sailor clothing: a modern white captain's hat, navy blue t-shirt, long white pants, white deck shoes, and a white and navy blue backwards neckerchief.
New Hampshire was a boy with short messy blond hair, red eyes, fair skin, and relaxed business clothing: unbuttoned gray business coat with no tie and wrinkles, white dress shirt, brown loafers, and gray pants.
New Jersey was a boy with short black hair, red eyes, olive skin, and relaxed clothing: light yellow flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves, baggy blue jean shorts, and light brown hiking boots.
New York, just by appearance alone, looked like a much stricter New Hampshire and was always black, gray, and white. This version just was a reverse color of the New York Allan used to have. He had neat short white hair, black eyes, fair skin, and business clothing: white and black-striped tie, dark gray business suit with white dress shirt, and black dress shoes.
North Carolina was a girl with medium-length messy blond hair and a cowlick like Alfred's, yellow eyes, fair skin, and varied clothing: knee-length red skirt with brown leather belt, red and white sneakers, and a baby blue t-shirt.
Virginia was a girl with yellow eyes, medium-length blonde hair that slowly went orange as it reaches the tips, tanned skin, and Revolutionary-like clothing: dark red overcoat, blue dress shirt, white knee-length skirt with red and blue stars on rim, and navy shoes with white stripes.
Massachusetts was a boy with emerald green eyes (like that d*** Arthur's...), messy brown hair, fair skin, and colonial-like clothing: dark brown overcoat, white gloves, dark blue dress shirt (how fancy is this kid?), dark red dress pants, and (he guessed) slip-on black sneakers with fake buckles.
Pennsylvania was a girl with red-purple eyes, long blonde hair with Alfred's cowlick and tips dyed red and blue, fair skin, and varied clothing: white tie top with blue stars (interesting choice of clothing for such a girl, especially being young...), red knee-length skirt with white stars on rim, and red and blue Wellingtons.
Georgia was a boy with light green eyes, light brown hair, fair skin, and farm clothing: white and blue checkered shirt, brown leather belt holding up faded green pants, and white and red worn sneakers.
Maryland was a girl with yellow-green eyes, short blonde hair with darker tips, fair skin, and skimpy clothes (what is it with Alfred letting his kids wear this stuff?): white tank top with a blue star on front ending just above her belly, pinkish-red shorts, and yellow and black trainers.
South Carolina looked like her twin, North Carolina, so much that he just wondered how they could still have differences. She had red eyes, hair like her twin's except without the cowlick, fair skin, and rebellious-type clothes: ripped blue jeans with a tan leather belt, red shirt with ragged rims (seriously, why is Alfred letting his kids wear this stuff? It also looked like the rims used to have white stars), and knee-high black sandals.
Rhode Island was a girl with mint-green eyes, short black hair in a bob cut, slightly tanned skin, and a sailor/schoolgirl outfit: white skirt with red torches on rim, white and light blue backwards neckerchief (kind of like Connecticut), buttoned yellow shirt, and dark orange flats.
All in all, he knew they were the leaders of the States by how they carried themselves, especially Delaware and Virginia. He also knew because of his 13 States, how they had acted as kids... Allan shook his head. No, these were not his kids. States, yes, but not his. They had to be Alfred's, but then how did they get here and get so young? Last time he checked (which would have gotten him killed if Alfred had known), the original 13 were 20-years-old, and the other States, depending on when they joined, were 1 to 5 years behind, with the exception of D.C. The capital was 10. In fact, he was sure the baby Virginia was carrying was D.C.
D.C., though only a baby, already had signs of what he used to look like. He was now a 1-year-old baby boy with Alfred's hair, ice blue eyes, fair skin, and varied clothing: miniature version of Alfred's jacket, white shirt with Alfred's national flag on it, dark red cargo pants (can a baby even wear those?), gloves like Alfred's, and red, white, and blue sneakers with stars. Oh, how Allan wished the boy were older so he could ask him about being a capital. After what Oliver had done, he had never gotten to see his version of D.C. or the other 37 States.
"Again, who are you?" Virginia snapped, "And where are we?" Allan quickly thought out a plan. If he couldn't have his own States, then why not take care of Alfred's until he comes to get them? Allan would finally get to fill his first house and take care of children again after so long.
"I'm Allan." he said calmly, putting a placating smile on his face and holding up his hands to show he held no weapons, "I guess you could say I'm another Daddy."
"We don't have one! We only have one Daddy!" yelled one feisty little girl. She appeared to be 8 with long black hair in a ponytail, yellow eyes, tanned skin, and clothing made out of cotton: blue jean shorts with a black leather belt, light brown tank top, and white sneakers.
"Then he was wrong." Allan corrected, "I can be your Papa. Besides, the world outside is very dangerous, nothing like where you used to live. I'll have to take care of you all for now. Is that okay?" The States glanced at each other before having a close, football-like huddle. Every-so-often, they would look up at him curiously before going back to the huddle. Eventually, they separated and New Hampshire stepped forward.
"We're not sure what to make of you, Mr. Allan." he said, "We want to both love and hate you, run away and stay. But, since you seem to know more about this world and Daddy isn't here, we'll have to trust you for now."
"But don't think we won't give you a run for your money to earn our trust!" roared another girl. Unlike the first girl, she was about 6 with gray eyes, long messy black hair, tanned skin, and fancy clothes: knee-length black dress with white sequins and light blue platform shoes with red jewels in the wedges. D*** she was fancy, and probably had picky tastes.
"I know that." he continued, still in a calm voice, "I never expected you to. Here, where I live, it's either kill or be killed." Their horrified faces showed their displeasure at the statement, "But I'm not going to let that happen to you, and I know just the perfect place where we can stay safe. How does that sound?" The States huddled together again before Delaware spoke this time.
"Alright, seeing as we have no choice." he nodded to Allan, "I hope you can prove to us that you are trustworthy, Mr. Allan, and that you deserve the title of 'Papa'." Allan could see how tough it was going to be to get the States on his side and call him that, especially the first 13. They had known Alfred the longest and probably distrusted Allan the most. He didn't blame them.
As Allan went back outside to grab his bat and figure out a way to move all the States and D.C. safely to his first house, a thought occurred to him. He knew Alfred had told the States and D.C. about him before, but it seemed as though they didn't recognize him. Besides being transformed into kids again, they had no idea who he was. Maybe there was a way he could play these cards to win, so he wouldn't have to give them up. Alfred would probably become heartbroken and fight for them with the ferocity of a furious wolverine, but Allan would just beat him into submission with his bat and kick Alfred's a** right back to his own dimension. If he couldn't have his own kids, then he would have Alfred's, one way or another...
Arthur, Anghel, and Lukas were hiding in Arthur's basement, the entire house in lockdown and barricaded. They feared for their lives, after they had all tried different forms of magic at the same time on the same day. When that happened, somehow, their magic tended to mix together. Arthur had been working on a dimensional teleportation spell, Lukas had been working on a youth potion, and Anghel had been working on a memory curse. Shortly after they had found out that they had used magic together, Alfred had called, worried about his States and capital. He hadn't seen them in a while and wondered in the original 13 had (once again) gone over to torture Arthur while dragging along the other 37 and D.C. It was at this point the three nations realized they were mincemeat and had fortified the entire house. Arthur himself knew how fierce, furious, crazy, and overprotective Alfred became when something happened to his States and capital, especially during wars, like the Revolution and 1812. If they thought Canada was mad when he played hockey, Alfred was worse. Much, much, much, very oh so much worse.
"Of all the personifications we could affect, it had to be all 50 of Alfred's States and his capital!" Anghel whimpered.
"How long until you think he realizes what happened and goes after us?" Lukas asked Arthur.
"Soon, if not already. Even if he acts dumb, he's quite smart." Suddenly, Arthur's, Lukas', and Anghel's cell phones began to ring.
"Angleterre, I suggest you start hiding!" Francis cried when Arthur answered, "Amérique has gone mad and is after you!"
"Lukas, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!" Matthias roared when Lukas answered, "I don't think even Ivan or a whole army could stop Alfred when he's this mad! How'd you get him so mad, anyway?!"
"Big brother, run and hide! Alfred is out to kill you!" Serghei warned when Anghel answered. However, all three were suddenly cut off as there was a big boom from upstairs. The three magicians looked at each other in fear.
"We're dead." they said in unison as there were more booms, shaking both house and basement. Arthur, in preparation to Alfred's arrival, had taken the precaution of scattering landmines around his house, along with motion-sensing machine guns. It was a bit much, yes, but he hoped it would be able to stop Alfred. There was another call to Arthur's phone, where he put it on speaker.
"Arthur, Al's gotten past your outdoor landmines and is ripping off the front doors!" Matthew yelled in fear, "He's gone completely nuts!" Arthur didn't have the time to criticize Matthew for being a hypocrite; he, Lukas, and Anghel were too busy shivering in fear.
"Ve! I-I've never seen him t-this angry before, not even w-with Ludwig and Kiku!" Feliciano stuttered.
"Mein Gott, he's gotten past the indoor machine guns!" Gilbert shouted. The Magic Trio's impending doom was getting closer.
"No, he's completely destroyed them, aru!" Yao corrected fearfully.
"He's ripping apart the barbed wire with his bare hands!" Tino squeaked.
"He doesn't even care that he's stepping on landmines!" Feliks exclaimed just as more booms sounded upstairs, closer than the last. Yes, there were machine guns, barbed wire, landmines, and many other weapons inside the house as well. Did I not say it was barricaded, both inside and out?
"There's the tear gas! Tal vez ahora no se detendrá!" Antonio said.
"Buon Dio, that b******'s not stopping!" Lovino roared.
"What is he, invincible?!" Peter cried.
"Han slog bara ner en vägg!" If Berwald sounded worried and lapsed into Swedish, they were worse than dead.
"ER FÜR DIE TREPPEN TARIF!" Ludwig's warning made the three back away from the door in panic. It was bolted closed by a wooden bar, several locks, and tons of furniture put in front of it. All the weight together, keeping the door closed, must have weighed close to an elephant at least.
"Er an der Tür ist, ist er an der Tür/Ő az ajtó, ő az ajtó!" Roderich's and Elizabeta's screams came just in time. Everything blasted away from the door, even the door itself, leaving the basement open to the demon monster of a Nation standing there.
Alfred was covered in a completely black aura, a lot worse than Ivan's could ever be, which made them quake in fear even with the great distance they put between themselves and the door. His face was twisted into a murderous snarl, his teeth bared as his eyes blazed with H**lfire. He had looked like he had gone through H**l itself and back and could have even made the Devil plead for mercy with what a glare he was giving them. If people glared with knives, Nations glared with axes and swords. And it didn't look like it was possible he was going to be talked out of anything, even murder and torture.
"Where. Are. They?" he said the words slowly, pronouncing each one as if he had picked it carefully, "Where are they, you three f***ing d*** b******s?" Arthur gulped, as did the rest of the trio.
"A-A-Alfred, we c-can't quite answer t-that right now."
"Why. Not?"
"W-w-we h-have no idea w-where they are!" Anghel shouted then hid behind the other two. Usually, he wouldn't be so wimpy, but this was DEMON AMERICA they were facing. And with that statement, time seemed to stop. Alfred froze as he registered the statement. But then everything went from the frying pan and into the fire.
"WHERE ARE THEY?!" Alfred screamed, face contorting even more in rage as he walked closer instead of stomping, which seemed to make it scarier, "WHERE ARE MY KIDS?!" Arthur, Lukas, and Anghel scrambled backwards only a few feet before they hit the wall.
"A-A-Alfred, give us t-time!" Lukas pleaded, "W-we'll find them!" Alfred stopped right before them, barely inches away.
"Alright, but let me give you a little demonstration for if this happens again." That was when the Magic Trio got the worst beating of their lives.
I know I'm doing so many new stories, but I can't help it! SO SUE ME! Anyway, In my headcanon, both 1P! and 2P! America are very extremely protective fathers of the States and D.C., even though Allan lost his to Oliver shortly after the Revolution. And THAT is why America is the worst nation to get angry. DO NOT MESS WITH THEIR KIDS. Also, here are the translations:
Mein Gott – My God (German)
Tal vez ahora no se detendrá – Maybe now he will stop (Spanish)
Buon Dio – Good God (Italian)
Han slog bara ner en vägg – He just struck down a wall (Swedish)
ER FÜR DIE TREPPEN TARIF – HE'S HEADING FOR THE STAIRS (German)
Er an der Tür ist, ist er an der Tür/Ő az ajtó, ő az ajtó – HE'S AT THE DOOR, HE'S AT THE DOOR (German/Hungarian)
Also, I hope you like my interpretations of the States and D.C. They're wearing clothes that they usually would at their normal ages, which I have posted in my Laws, Laws, Laws story. I'm also planning of putting the descriptions of the States and D.C. on my profile in alphabetical order. If you want to have a look, you'll have to go under my Dinosaur King dinosaur cards and before my story ideas to find them.
One more thing, too: Anghel is Romania and Serghei is Moldova (got their names from a site, called Behind the Names that lists all kinds of names from different countries). Those are the names I've picked out for their 1P!s. I hope you like them, because I'm not changing them. And if anyone seems OOC, I know. I'm trying to put them in character the best that I can, so don't judge me! And Wellingtons, trainers, and flats are types of shoes, if you want to know or look them up.
Anyway, read, review, and I'll see you later!