Ca va?

Thanks to Guest for leaving a lovely review and to everyone who followed and favorited (is that a word)! Here's Chapter Two for all of you. Sorry it's a little on the short side. I was mostly working on I Brought You My Bullets. (And reading doujinshi. But mostly writing.) Also, if you happen to be an enormous piece of musical theater trash and Hetalia trash like me, go and Google "17 Valjeans". Click the first link and skip the first 1.5 minutes of clapping. Fangasm in your pants a little.

Enough of me. You should just go on and read the chapter. (Go check out the poll on my profile as well! I may or may not be planning a new fic.)

-kat


Needless to say, America was getting kind of confused. Any nation who had provinces or states would live with their personifications; so why was everyone watching him like that? Even Canada, who was besties with Minnesota, was shooting him a face.

America shrugged. "That was Delaware. Iggy, you remember Delaware, right? The one with DID and your eyebrows?"

"Lad, you finally let us see…." England shot France a quizzical look. "What do you mean by Delaware? The state?"

"Yeah, the state. Why are you guys acting so weird?"

Japan muttered something about finally reading the atmosphere, and the confusion mounted. America knew he also had a truckload of prefectures at his house, so it wasn't as if he didn't get the concept. In fact, most of the nations did. What exactly was going on?

Before his questions could get answered, the doors flung open once more, and America's second-oldest burst into the room with a troubled frown on his face.

Pennsylvania was tall, lanky, and serious-looking. America really hadn't rubbed off on him very much at all. He was formally dressed in a grey blazer, with glasses perched on his nose. The only thing that wasn't too serious was the floppy pageboy cap on his head, but even that didn't take away from his expression, clear worry in his eyes.

"America, did Delaware get the news to you?"

"...Slower Lower happened," the nation sheepishly muttered, awkwardly scratching his neck. "Anyways, Pennsy, what's going on?"

The state glanced at the (very confused) nations in the room, some in horrendously awkward positions, all seemingly sober despite the fiasco a few moments ago, and sighed deeply.

"Look, I have no idea why, but it seems like every memory of our presence in the minds of the nations has been erased. We found out after Arizona got really upset when Mexico didn't know who she was, and I had to ship her 50% of my Tastykake output. 50%! That's just tragic, and you know how Arizona gets when she's upset." Pennsylvania stared at the floor. "Even the Netherlands didn't know who I was."

"Wait…." America frowned. "You kids are the only provinces going through this?"

England frowned even deeper. "Everyone else's are doing reasonably. Why are yours finally showing up now? You never bothered introducing them to us; even Japan grudgingly introduced us to all of his prefectures. Are you sure you and your states are mentally sound?"

"This has gotta be a mistake," America muttered. "But it's okay, 'cause the Hero will save the day!" The other nations shot him an I-really-think-he's-gone-completely-nuts look, and America sighed. What was going on, and why didn't any of them remember his weird half-kids? It wasn't a major world-safety-threatening problem, but it was still extremely unsettling, making him uncomfortably worried.

"Can't believe yinz don't remember us," Pennsylvania muttered. "It's too quiet in the house now, America. Feels like the first day of hunting season, it really does. Even New Mexico is too busy moping to do anything but drink my Yuengling lager and eat scrapple. And you remember how much he hates anything PA."

America clapped a hand on his shoulder and turned towards the confused nations again. "Then it's decided! I'll get all fifty of you guys acquainted with the nations, and then maybe we can figure out the cause behind this mess in the first place!"

"Holy mother-of-the-Westernized-man-in-the-sky," Japan murmured into Greece's ear. "America came up with a decent idea." The rest of the nations seemed to be in similar shock, eyes wide and mouths agape, and America cocked his head confusedly.

"What?"

England grudgingly rolled his eyes and pulled off his argyle socks. He really wasn't wearing anything now as he tossed them on the floor, snapping his fingers and hoisting himself back onto the table. "I guess he can't really read the atmosphere after all. Suit yourself, you American gits or states or whatever, go and make friends….I'm going to go drunkenly do stupid things and watch all of our economies fail."

The other nations cheered wildly, and in literally fifteen seconds, max, the room had returned to its former chaos. Japan now sported a pair of cat ears and didn't have a shirt on, while Spain was dazedly pelting Romano with empty cans of V-8. Germany looked like he was having a major existential crisis as he banged his head against the table England was grinding on. All in all, the personifications were having a hell of a time while completely forgetting the purpose of America's decent idea; to familiarize them with the states.

The world power sighed, turning to his relatively calm state apologetically. "Sorry about them. I know you're not too big of a fan of alcohol-induced crazy, unless it's from lager. But I also know for a fact that this plan will work, and you'll have your Tastykakes from Sheetz back in no time! The Hero will make it happen!"

"From Wawa," Pennsylvania corrected. "You always forget how I'm Team Pittsburg, America. Philadelphians are the ones who shop at Sheetz and say 'youse' instead of 'yinz', mind you. I'm not like Delaware, with his weird Dissociative Identity Disorder issues. I actually take after the better piece of the state."

America grinned. "Okay, okay, no need to be so huffy. Who knew you were so particular over convenience stores?"

"The Netherlands," he muttered.

"I think he's hanging with Belgium right now, Pennsy," America frowned, "but this weird memory lapse shouldn't last forever. You know that, right? I'd do anything to help you guys out. We'll get to the bottom of this, I swear."

Pennsylvania half-smiled. "Yeah, I guess."

"After all, you have towns named Intercourse and Blue Ball. That's pretty memorable."

The state just glared at him. "Amish people."

They sat there in easy silence, watching certain nations (ahem, Switzerland, ahem) make total idiots of themselves as they attempted to avoid the lechery and blatant drug use that blanketed the room like an R-18 Korean drama (which may or may not have originated in Korea). Kudos to him for trying, America supposed. He was pretty sure he was kind of high from Canada and Prussia's secondhand weed smoke, and that was when he was sitting in the sidelines. America couldn't imagine a fully sober experience in the middle of it all.

Pennsylvania looked a little relieved that the nations were all distracted now, though he still constantly checked his phone, claiming that he was nervous about the wellbeing of the other states.

America sighed, wondering why his states were sudden strangers in the eyes of his peers. He just wished everything could get back to the way it used to be; back to a time when the nations didn't get hammered on a weekly basis, back to a time when his states were still so young and tiny, back to a time when they could all get along. In fact, as of late, inter-state spats and fights had hit a record high. Dammit, America thought, was it really so hard for his kids to get along?

Apparently, if the increasing disunity in his country meant anything. His once-little kids were now almost-fully-grown adults, only distancing each other after each passing day.

Maybe that was the reason. Was it possible for the states to drift so far apart that they weren't acknowledged in the eyes of the world? At first, it didn't make a lick of sense, but the more Alfred thought about it the clearer the picture got.

Following that logic, the next horrifying thought hit him. God, what if they were all turning into Puerto Ricos? Since the island province was so distanced from the rest of the states, he was like an American Canada to the nations. No one ever remembered him or knew who he was; in essence, he was treated as an insignificant micronation, a thought that made America cringe. Okay, so comparing little RiRi to the uptight brat by the name of Sealand wasn't exactly the best analogy, but it worked well enough that he could let it slide. Concisely, if the states drifted too far, they would end up like him.

As America opened his mouth to suggest the States=Puerto Rico theory, Pennsylvania suddenly choked and gasped simultaneously, his normally stern nature caving in, and all thoughts of disunity immediately left America's mind.

"Holy fuck, America, I have to dash right now. Oh my god…."

America felt panic rise into his throat. "Pennsy, what's going on?"

Pennsylvania's eyes were wide. "California…..has purchased the other 50% of my Tastykake output." Bright tears glistened on his cheeks. "I can feel the empty stomachs of Pennsylvanians, America. It hurts."

"Oh my god…." America sighed, either exasperatedly or exhaustedly. It was difficult to tell. "I know exactly how you feel. Each time a Mickey D's is closed up somewhere in the country…. Oh, man, the pain. It's like that weird stuff in Peter Pan when a fairy dies if you say they aren't real, but the fairies are my heart and my heart is American consumerism." He suddenly slapped at his thigh, wincing in pain. "Dammit, speak of the devil! Why humans feel the compulsive urge to destroy majestic multinational megacorporations, I'll never understand."

Pennsylvania grimaced as he stumbled towards the door. "Oh, God, another one of those damn Arizonans just mowed through a box of Kandy Kakes. Christ. Sorry to cut this short, America, but I can't help you out right now. Besides, I'm not sure introductions to fifty strangers would stick in their memories for too long. They're all drunk off their- fuck, another state is buying more Tastykake boxes!" With that, Pennsylvania slammed through the double doors, not attracting any attention from the countries.

America sighed. What was he going to tell Pennsy again? It had something to do with his American ingenuity and RiRi….

It probably wasn't something super vital anyways. Besides, as Pennsylvania had said, the others were too piss-drunk to handle anything other than another shot of cheap liquor. America sighed. He needed to start the investigation into the memory lapses around his states as soon as possible, especially since some of them could have information as to why exactly stuff was the way it currently was. Besides, he was their hero, the person who raised them into the personifications they were today, and America knew there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for them.

Then again, unfortunately, he wasn't the greatest when it came to getting coherent answers out of drunk people. Fortunately, he knew exactly the person to call.

…..Wait a second; he was a hero. More specifically, The Hero. Relying on the people he was supposed to save wasn't on the agenda. He'd be a pretty crap superhero if he specifically picked out civilians as sidekicks.

But America was impatient and needed to get the investigation going while all the nations were still in one room, so he sighed and grabbed his phone. It wasn't all bad; they hadn't hung out in forever and she had always been busy before. It would be a welcome change after Delly and PA's unexpected visits too.

As he expected, she picked up after seven rings.

"America? Is that you?"

"Jersey! What up, sister?"