Please don't kill me. I didn't think it would take this long to write another chapter O^O *hides under desk*

My teachers have been assigning homework like it's going out of style. Seriously, 4 hours every night is far too much. And that I suck at getting my priorities straight didn't help. THE QUEEN OF PROCRASTINATION STRIKES AGAIN! (/=_=)/

So please enjoy this chapter!

I don't own Hetalia.

Doors Are Stupid

Arthur glanced up from his newspaper to look at the clock. It had been an hour since the meeting had ended. More than enough time for Francis to have come back upstairs and trip the spell. He should probably go check on the frog.

Arthur was surprised Alfred hadn't come to bother him. The American would usually follow him up to his room after a meeting was over. He must of ran off somewhere else with Kiku or Gilbert. Or, oh God, Francis. Don't let it be Francis. That would be hell on a million levels. Arthur hadn't realized how much this scheme could backfire on him. He had to find that idiot fast.

Striding out into the hallway, Arthur pulled out his cell phone and dialed Alfred's number. The dial tone rang in his ear as he paced the hall. Come on, Alfred. Pick up. Where are you at? Pick up, Al-

An obnoxious song suddenly began to play behind a door he had just passed. Oh God. That was Alfred's ringtone. It had gone off one too many times in meetings because Alfred never bothered to silence it. It was unmistakable.

And room 809, that was Francis's hotel room.

Oh God. Bloody hell. BLOODY FREAKING HELL.

Arthur hung up and put the phone back in his pocket and knocked on the door with a few sharp raps. "Alfred?"

No answer. Not even a sound of movement on the other side of the door. That's not good. Really not good. All right, calm down and think, Arthur. Maybe Alfred came up here earlier with Francis and forgot his phone in the room. Or maybe Francis accidentally picked up Alfred's phone. Yeah, those are both entirely plausible. See? Nothing to worry about.

Arthur took a deep breath to calm his nerves and clear his mind. Somebody had to know where Alfred had gotten to. He's not exactly invisible.

The familiar face of a blonde that looked an awful lot like Alfred suddenly popped into Arthur's head. He knew that face, but he couldn't quite put a name to it. Oh! Of course, Matthew!

Arthur took out his cell phone again, dialing the Canadian's number quickly and pressing the receiver to his ear. If anyone knew where Alfred was, it was Matthew.

The familiar dial tone sounded in his ear again. He paced down the hall and after a couple rings, Arthur heard another cell phone go off. This time the ringtone was much more subtle, and it was coming from behind room 809's door.

What. WHAT. Arthur ran back to the door and began to frantically bang his fist against the wood. There was definitely something wrong here.

"Alfred? Matthew? Are you in there? Open up!" He shouted, still beating on he door. Just then, Francis stepped out of the elevator and saw Arthur pounding on the door to his room.

"Angleterre! What are you doing?" He called out, running up behind the Englishman and grabbing hold of his arms. Arthur struggled in his grip, trying to break free and resume hitting the door. "Now just calm down!"

"I will NOT!" Arthur pulled his right arm loose and threw a well-aimed elbow to the Frenchman's face. Francis stumbled back, one hand pressed to the side of his face and the other stretched out in attempt to keep his balance. His back hit the wall adjacent to his hotel room and he leaned onto it for support.

It's official, Arthur's finally lost it. Maybe it was that "flying mint bunny" he was always rambling about pushed him over the edge. Or the unicorn. Or the fairies. Or-

"Alfred! Matthew! Open this door THIS INSTANT!" Arthur yelled.

Francis's eyes widened. That's why Arthur was try to destroy his door. He must have been looking for Alfred. Francis himself had come up here to see what was keeping Matthew so long. Maybe Arthur had a good reason for flipping out.

"Arthur, you know I have my room key, right? Stop trying to break the door."

The Englishman paused, turning to look at Francis.

"If you had told me that earlier, maybe I wouldn't have had to assault you."

"You didn't really look like you were in the mood to talk," Francis got up off the floor, taking his spare key from his pocket. He was aware Arthur was hovering rather close to him, impatiently waiting for him to open the door.

The locked clicked open, and Arthur pushed into the room first. But he barely made it two steps inside before stopping dead in his tracks.

"Angleterre? What's-," Francis's words caught in his throat. On the floor, the missing pair they had been searching for were unconscious. Matthew was slumped against the wall next to the window, Alfred lying face up next to the bed. Both were too still for either Arthur's or Francis's comfort.

Arthur dashed over to Alfred and Francis to Matthew. They each tried to wake the twins, calling out their names and gently tapping the sides of their heads in an attempt to wake them. Nothing worked.

"What happened to them?" Francis said anxiously.

"I-I don't k-," Arthur went to answer. But then it hit him. The spell. The spell meant for Francis. The spell he had placed. "Oh God. Francis, let me finish talking before you start yelling."

"Angleterre."

"…This was my fault."

England! Not the North American twins! D: *Crazy author doesn't know why she's yelling because she has creative control of the story*

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Rates, reviews, and PMs are all appreciated :3

Hugs and cookies for all reviews! (^-^)(^-^)

~Blue