Ring, ring, ring…
Almost every phone in Americas' house was ringing and it was giving him a headache. He ran over to the first one, picking it up with one hand and carrying the now chibi-sized England in the other.
"Hello?" America said into the receiver. There was no sound on the other end. Then, a small voice with a french accent started yelling at him.
"Ce que l'enfer (What the Hell) did you do! You turned me back into a child, you imbecile! Although I'm not really mad. I am so much cuter this way…"
"Um, France? Is that you?" America asked the younger male. France, since it had to be him at this point, continued to rant on about his cuteness.
"…but I'm not sure I can drive myself to the meeting like this, and Spain doesn't have a license-" suddenly he was interrupted by the sound of yelling and breaking wood. Romanos' voice could be heard in the background, and a faint, "Where the HELL is Spain!" shouted over Frances' muffled curse.
The phone hit the ground with a thud, and screams filtered through the line until it went dead, beeping until America hung up.
The next call was from Russia. "Ello, is dis America?" said the russian. "I'm having a problem here with Lithuania. It seems he's smaller than usual, da?"
"U-um," America didn't know what to do. Russia was intimidating in person, but he seemed even more so by phone. "I-is that s-so?"
"Da. I'm afraid I'll have to deal with our 'friend' at the meeting today." The other nation continued with a casual tone.
"Um, okay. I guess I'll see you then…" America said, about to hang up.
"Oh, and America," Russia cut in at the last moment. "you can always become one with-"
America hung up.
The other calls went a little like this until America just disconnected all his phones and went to get some Asprin. England, who was still unconscious and very small, laid still on the couch. In fact, he was almost too still; if his chest didn't move with each breath, he could have been dead.
America wasn't quite worried, since England's faulty spells had become sort of a common problem between the nations, but something like this wasn't just another messed-up spell. This was serious.
Suddenly, the tiny child opened his emerald green eyes and stared up at the shocked America above him.
"What the bloody Hell happened…" England said as he sat up, rubbing his head and wincing. America continued to stare at the small chibi, trying to figure out what to do. England was wearing a white tee-shirt underneath a black cloak, and military pants; his normal sorcery outfit from when he'd been a kid. It was almost cute, seeing England like this. America smiled.
"What are you smiling about, you bloody git!" England mumbled with his small, child-like voice. He waved a small fist at him, and now America was laughing. "Shut up, why don't you!" England groaned, still rubbing his head. That's when he realized how small his hand was.
"No, this can't be happening…" he said, his eyes glowing with shock. America continued to laugh, clutching his sides. England stared at his small hands as they shook with fear. He balled them into fists and fury lit up his eyes. "Dammit!"
America, realizing his friends distress, calmed down a bit to settle the child. "Dude, what's wrong?"
"Has anyone else turned into a child?" the other country asked.
"Yeah. I got calls from a bunch of them. France, Japan, Italy, Lithuania and who knows who else. Why?" England didn't hear him. He'd started pacing the couch, then, climbing up onto it, the table.
"This is not good. Not good at all,"
"Well, everyone's still coming to the G8 meeting. I mean, I don't know how they're gonna make it, but they all said they'd be there." America assured the chibi. England looked up at him, his face drawn with fear and something else. He looked away before America could decipher it.
"Good. And Alfred?" England asked, using his human name. "I… I'm glad you didn't change. Okay?"
"Yeah, me too." said man replied. He smiled and scooped England into a big hug that crushed the air from his lungs. "Otherwise I wouldn't be able to do this!"
"Put me down you git!" the chibi screamed. "I said put me down!"
At Germanys' house…
"Germany~ Hey, Germany!" Italy squealed in his high-pitched voice. Germany had been pacing the child's room, trying to figure out what to do. For some reason, a few of the nations had turned into chibis; not like they didn't know who was responsible, but it was still a problem. The german looked down at the small child Italy and sighed. He picked up the boy and crossed to the basement door, not even knocking, and stomped down the stairs.
"Bruder." Germany said, walking to the bed in the corner. There was no response. "Hey Bruder, get up!"
"What do you want, West?" the Prussian mumbled sleepily. Seeing the look on Germanys' face, he straitened up. "I mean, good morning."
"Ja, whatever." Germany responded, not sure if he was relived or not that Prussia was still normal sized. He thought for a moment and decided he'd be more trouble little than big.
"Okay, we have a problem," he continued, holding out Italy for his brother to see. The mans red eyes widened inane and he started to laugh.
"Oh mien Gott! What happened to Italy! He's so cute!" Prussia gushed, trying to snatch the little Italian from Germany. "He's almost as awesome as me!"
Germany glared at his brother, but his gaze faltered. Prussia, eho was doubled over with laughter on his bed, suddenly began to shrink. Within seconds, Germanys' once 6-foot tall brother had shrunk to no more than a foot-and-a-half.
"Um, East?"
The child Prussia, who wore a blue military uniform, suddenly stopped laughing and stared at himself.
"I'm a midget!" he squealed in an impressively cute, high-pitched voice. He jumped 3 feet out of his bed and started to climb up Germanys' leg. "Now I can hug Italyyyyy!"
Germany plucked him up and held him at arms length, sighing. Looks like people were still changing. Glancing at his watch, he nearly dropped the two chibis, who were both wailing about something or other.
"Verdammt! We're going to be late!" he yelled, quickly rushing out the door and into his car, turning the key and stepping on the gas.
"I want to huuuuuug hiiiiim!" Prussia continued to scream while Italy clung protectively to Germanys' head.
"No! Ve, Germany, where are we going?" The small Italian asked.
"To the G8 meeting of course."
Prussia groaned and tried to escape his younger brothers' one-handed death grip. "Do I have to? I'm not even a real country!" the child complained.
"Yes."
"West, you're no fun at all…"