Memories of a Different Time.

A Hetalia Fanfiction by RishiandSquee

Disclaimer: Don't own, but baby Sealand is the most adorable thing since Chibitalia.

chapter two

Memory of the Allies Meeting

It was a quiet day. The sun was shining, the birders were singing. It was the start of a splendid July day.

At least, it was supposed to be.

Without warning, a child's wail could be heard throughout England's normally quiet household.

France immediately dropped the book that he had been reading and frantically ran up the stairs into Peter's room, which was really just the guest room with a crib placed in it. "Peter? What is it?" he exclaimed, opening the door.

"Jiih!"

A happy, yet frustrated baby face greeted him, calling him 'Jiih'—France assumed it was short for "Jiijii", or "uncle"—as he stood on his tiptoes, trying his best to get out of his crib. He was pointing to something. Apparently, his toy boat had fallen to the floor. The child looked up at France "Jiih!" he exclaimed, pointing. "Jiih! Boat! Tha boat! Gettit!" he jabbed his finger for emphasis. "Get! Get!"

France sighed in relief. "Is that all?" he asked, bending down and scooping the toy off the floor. "Here you go, mon dieu." He smiled as he handed the toy to the child.

Peter's face burst out into a grin. "Jiih!" he yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. "Jiih! Save tha boat! Jiih save tha boat! Jiih save it!" Suddenly, the child lost his balance and fell on his bottom, but he was giggling too much to notice.

France couldn't help but laugh. "I guess I did save the boat, didn't I?"

"Yeah! Jiih! Save tha boat!" Peter climbed to his feet again, reaching up for France. "Jiih!"

"Hmm? What is it, my precious little angel?" France leaned down to eye level with Peter.

"Uhp!" the child yelled impatiently. "Ihnglan!"

It took France a moment to figure out what Peter wanted. "Oh, do you want me to take you to England?" he asked, picking the boy up.

Peter nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide. "Ihnglan! Go!" he said, pointing his pudgy fingers to the door.

"Peter, England's asleep right now." France said, trying to get a decent hold on the squirming babe. France found the child's endless energy to be highly amusing, and very much like America had been—though he wouldn't dare tell England that.

The baby blinked, trying to understand this information. He pointed to the door again.

"Ihnglan." he repeated firmly, his bushy brows furrowed. "Go."

France laughed again. Peter was a mini-England, right down to the one-track minded stubbornness. "Right, okay." he said, bouncing the baby. "Don't fret so much, I'll take you to England."

France opened the door to England's room quietly. The shades were down, but it wasn't dark enough that France couldn't see the man. Still, he pulled back the shades, and what France saw in the Britain's bed amused him.

The green-eyed nation was completely out cold, his blankets strewn all over the place. He was snoring softly. France carefully set the small toddler on the bed while trying not to laugh, the new camera he had bought from America ready.

Peter immediately began to crawl on top of the older country, intent on waking him up. "Ihnglan! Mohnin!" the child exclaimed, patting England's face. "Wake up!" the baby pouted, then started to smush England's cheeks together. "Up! Up!" he persisted. France snapped a photo as best he could.

England finally began to stir. "Nnn..." he mumbled as the small child patted his face. Peter, still not satisfied, continued to smush his cheeks, pouting.

"Ihnglan! Jiih an Peta up! Ihnglan! Get up!"

"Right, right..." England replied sleepily, turning to the other side. Peter promptly fell off of England and onto the bed with a very soft thump.

The child froze for a moment, then burst into tears, startled.

England shot up the second the child started to cry. "Peter?" he grabbed the babe, checking for bruises, relieved to find none. "I'm so sorry, Peter! I'm awake now, see? See?" he exclaimed, hugging Peter tightly.

Peter sniffed. "Wake?" he blubbered, eyes wide.

England kissed Peter's forehead. "Yes, Peter, England's awake now."

Peter then smiled, the tears of only moments before completely forgotten. "Ihnglan! Jiih save tha boat!" he said, grinning. "He save tha boat!"

England smiled back. "Really? France did?" he hugged the boy, then looked up at France, confused. "Boat?" he mouthed.

France smiled, camera in hand. "His toy."

England, noticing the camera, glared at the Frenchman. "What are you doing with that thing?" he whispered, still holding the child. France merely winked and pointed to Peter. England rolled his eyes at the older blond.

"Ihnglan!" Peter exclaimed, tugging at England's shirt. "Pway with me!"

England looked down at the boy in his arms and smiled. "Alright, I'll play with you." he said with a smile.

The two started to play. Peter screamed with delight as England tickled, lifted, and cuddled him. France gleefully snapped a few photos as best he could-technology was getting so difficult to use in the 1940's.

After a few minutes of this, England fell backwards, still holding the tiny Peter, who was begging to play more. England was absolutely exhausted, but couldn't help grinning. France smiled at the sight, camera still ready. "Is that all for today, England-papa?" he said teasingly. "You haven't even gotten out of bed, and you're already exhausted."

England groaned. "What time is it?" he asked, trying in vain to calm down Peter.

France glanced over to the clock. "Late enough that we're going to be late for the Allies meeting." he replied nonchalantly.

England immediately jumped up. "What? Why didn't you say anything before?" he exclaimed.

"You and Peter are just so precious together, I couldn't help it." France laughed. After a moment, of this he sighed contently, plucking Peter out of England's hands. "I'll go change Peter." he said.

England immediately jumped out of bed, grabbing the nearest clothes he could find. He ran into the bathroom in a hurry.

Peter stared blankly into space, obviously confused, before looking up at France. "Jiih?"

France tickled the boy. "Come now, Peter, let's get you dressed. We're going out for a bit, okay?"

"Go where? Wanna play." Peter pouted.

"Oh ho~ we'll play later, Peter, I promise, but right now England-papa and France-jiijii have to go to an important meeting. If you're lucky, maybe you'll be able to play once we get to the meeting. I'm sure everyone would jump at the chance for an excuse not to work." France said in a sing-song voice as he changed Peter into a navy blue sailor outfit. He hugged the child when he finished. "I wonder how everyone else is going to take you?"

"Alright, dudes, it's time to start the Allies meeting! Or, as I like to call it, the America's-the-hero-and-everyone-else-is-backup meeting!" America's voice rang out, loud and obnoxious, as always. "Speaking of backup, has anyone seen France or England? They haven't shown up yet, have they?"

"I have not seen them either, aru." China replied promptly.

Russia nodded, sitting next to China. "Nope, not a clue." he said, smiling.

America sighed, putting his hand to his forehead. "Jeez, and they call me irresponsible. This is an important meeting! I can't just have them blow it off and go skipping all willy-nilly." He frowned. "I guess we have no other choice...Russia!"

Russia looked up, his interest perked. "Yes?"

"Go find those two and scare them into submission, and then bring 'em here! That's an order!" America commanded, pointing outside.

At that moment, England burst into the room. He entered without a word, an irritated look on his face.

Russia's face fell into almost a childish pout. "Aww, why did you have to come in now? I never get to have fun."

"Sorry we're late, everyone~" France called out, striding into the room, pushing a carriage.

America imitated England's scowl as best he could, "Dudes, you're late." he said, secretly taking delight in scolding the two older nations. "This is an important meeting! Tardiness is not allowed! And what's with the carriage? Are you two so broke that you have to take on babysitting jobs?"

France laughed at the joke, while England grabbed the bridge of his nose. "Don't you have a meeting to start?" England growled.

America's curiosity, however, got the best of him. "Seriously, though, what's with the carriage?"

"I am also curious about the child carriage, aru. We don't use those at my place."

"Were you two so kind as to bring lunch? Kolkolkol."

England crossed his arms, obviously irritated. "There's a child in there, you git. I didn't think I had to explain something so simple." he spat.

"Okay, I figured that, but..." America blinked. "Why did you guys bring a kid in here? Francis?" America turned to the good-natured country, trying to get some answers.

"Well, we very well couldn't have left him at home, could we?" France asked.

America facepalmed. Figures that France wouldn't give him a straight answer.

Timidly, China peeked into the carriage. "Aiyaaah, it's a baby England, aru!" he called, staring wide eyed at the child. Peter stared right back up at China, just as surprised and wide-eyed.

Russia's eyebrows rose. "Really? I want to see, too." he said, pushing China out of the way and poking his head into the carriage. He and Peter stared at each other for a long time before Peter suddenly burst into tears. Russia smiled. "He reminds me of Latvia." he commented gleefully.

England sulked in the corner, the entire conversation somehow irritated him even more then these useless meetings usually did. He did his best to contain his temper

America looked over to England, grinning. "So the rumors are true, huh?" he said, walking over to the Brit. "That's awesome! What's his name, England?" he asked, almost excitedly.

England, arms still crossed, answered quickly. "His name's Peter."

"Peter, huh? That's a pretty good name!" America nudged England, still grinning.

"France named him."

"Still, that's pretty cool. So what country is he? Maybe we can get him to fight for the Allies if we play our cards right." America continued to grin, unable to read the atmosphere that England was giving off.

"He's not a country."

America blinked. "W-what?"

"He's not a country. He's a war fort." England said, avoiding eye contact.

The hero started to laugh awkwardly. "Of course he's a country, England. I mean, he's your little brother-and he's here-so he has to be a country! Stop trying to pull my leg, dude."

England glared at America. "Did you not here me or something? War. Fort."

There was a pause, and then America swallowed. "Does that...does that normally happen?"

"No, it doesn't, but it did, so I'm not complaining."

America studied the Brit for a moment, and then grinned. "Well, maybe he'll turn into a great country someday!"

"Possibly." England shifted. This conversation was not going where he wanted it to—well, he didn't really want to have this conversation anyway, so it was a moot point.

"Well, let's recognize him as a country so he can join Team 'America's-the-hero-and-everyone-else-is-backup' and get big as soon as possible!"

England scrunched his brows. "He's too small for that."

America paused, glancing over to the group of countries surrounding the still crying Peter—China and France trying to calm him down, with Russia looking somewhat pleased. "...yeah, I guess you're right." he said softly. "He's a little too small to be a hero." he turned to England, quietly smiling. "Right now, he needs a hero to protect him."

England blinked, blushing slightly. "Stop staring, you twit." he mumbled. He uncrossed his arms and started to walk over to the crying baby. England picked the boy out of the carriage and smiled. "Don't cry, Peter. Russia's scary, but he won't hurt you."

"I can vouch against that." Russia piped up.

Peter looked up at England and immediately started to smile. "Ihnglan!" The baby blinked away his tears. "Ihnglan!"

The group cooed at him-minus Russia, who just went 'kolkolkol'.

England started at the child. Peter, with his blond hair, blue eyes, bushy eyebrows...and yet he was so small. How long would it take for him to get bigger? Every country grew up at different rates-but this was a war fort. And being a country was sometimes hopelessly depressing-he would have to listen to his boss, he would have to do things that he wouldn't want to, he would have to fight wars, go through lots of pain and hardship...

And he was so small...

"He doesn't need to become a country."

England mumbled, stroking Peter's hair.

"He doesn't need to. He's too small."

The group of allies stared at England for a moment. France got up, then walked over to the two, placing his hand on England's trembling shoulder. "Okay." France said gently. "Okay, he doesn't need to become a country." A concerned smile crossed the man's face. "You don't need to worry about it."

England looked up at France, then down at Peter, who was still giggling in his arms, unaware of the atmosphere. "...can we...can we leave yet?" he asked in a soft whisper, brows furrowed.

France looked up at America, waiting for permission. America shrugged in response. "Hey, you guys skipped most of the meeting anyway."

England immediately started to walk out of the room, ignoring China, Russia and—who was that in the corner, looking at him with concern? He stormed out of the room. As soon as he closed the doors, he tried to smile at Peter. "So, Peter, what do you want to play?"

Peter grinned. "Play! Peta play with Ihnglan! Peta be a big country wif Ihnglan!" he laughed, gleefully squishing England's cheeks together.

The older man stopped in his tracks. England stopped breathing for a moment as he digested what the child had just unwittingly said. He bit his lip, trying to keep himself composed. It was pathetic. He had already lost himself in the meeting room.

Peter gurgled happily, unaware of what England's tears meant.

"Hey, Arthur, Alfred said we could go, but—Arthur?" France ran over to England. "What's wrong? Why are you...hey! What happened?" England's shoulder was shaking almost to the point of spazzing. France's face twisted in worry as he thought of all the horrible things that could have happened in the few moments he was away—was he becoming frantic like a parent?—and quickly looked over the two, making sure no one was hurt. "You're shaking so badly. Here, let me take Peter."

"I-I'm fine, you git." England swallowed, trying to keep himself composed, ignoring his still shaking body. "I'm absolutely fine."

France still took Peter out of England's arms-despite cries of protest from the babe-and the two walked in silence, with England's occasional sniffling breaking the quiet atmosphere.

"That went better then I would have expected." France finally spoke, glancing softly at England. "Didn't it?"

England shrugged. "If you say so."

France gave a loud sigh. "We need to get Peter a photo album." he declared, smiling. "Oh, and I need to get these pictures developed somehow. Technology is so difficult, isn't it? I'll ask America later on how to use the camera better."

That was all England needed to snap back to his normal state. "You stupid frog! Stop taking pictures like that when I'm sleeping! My hair was all messy." England flushed slightly. "I understand that the concept of pictures is highly engaging, but there's no need to capture someone in such a state! Imagine how horrible it would be if someone decided to use something like that for devious purposes! It would be the end of the world"

France laughed, and Peter eventually joined in, as England continued to fuss.

~End Chapter Two~

(A/N: it's 2600 words because it's just so cute. Sorry if it was a long read for a chapter fic. ^^; Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Next chapter is going to be fun, too! So stick around~)