"Ok, I got: diapers, clothes, formula, bottles, baby powder, lotion, and everything I saw other parents getting."
Francis came in the bedroom with bags of items. England sat on the bed with a baby in each arm.
"Thank you," Arthur said, "Take care of them while I cook dinner and-... How many outfits did you buy?!"
Francis looked up from unpacking.
"If we are going to be taking care of infants, I want them to be the cutest babies in the world. I know Matthew will be."
Arthur rolled his eyes and set the babies down in their "crib". America was fast asleep, Canada was wide awake. France walked over to the small countries and caressed Matthews soft cheeks. The infant's large blue eyes smiled back at the Frenchman. He grabbed a hold of France's finger and held tight.
"Bonjour, mon petit. Comment est-ce arrivé à vous?"
He picked the small Canadian up and cradled him in his arms.
"Francis."
"Yes?"
Arthur watched him hold the baby in his arms, "Have you ever taken care of a baby before? Not like babysitting for a few hours. I mean actually raising an infant."
France looked down at the soft lump in his hands, "Well, no. Whenever I met new countries they were always children. And it's the same for you, no?"
England nodded his head and walked to the crib, picking up the sleeping American.
"We don't know how long we will be taking care of them. Until we find out what happened, we'll have to be like their parents again."
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
England chuckled, "We have no choice."
...
While Francis searched on the Internet on how to properly care for a child, Arthur stood in the kitchen preparing a meal. The storm still raged on outside the windows. Even darker now that night was rolling in.
It had been so long since Arthur saw America so small and innocent. And this time, he was even smaller. Of course Arthur had always wanted to see Alfred younger one last time. But now that it had happened, it was quite nerve racking.
Arthur opened one of the drawers to get some utensils and found a large wooden stick laying in the midst of the spoons and forks.
"Isn't this my wand?" Arthur picked the wand out of the drawer. It shown of ebony in the warm kitchen light.
"I must've left it in here by mistake." He muttered to himself and headed for the basement door to put the wand back.
Before he could take another step, Francis caught him with one arm, the other holding a whimpering Alfred.
"What's wrong?"
"He's more your responsibility than mine."
"So? What are you trying to say?"
That's when he started to smell the reeking stench coming from Alfred's diaper. Arthur held his nose and stared at the child. How could a baby make something that smells so bad?
"Ok, give me a minute. I'll be right back."
"Arthur," Francis began softly, "Why do you have your wand?"
"Oh, I found it in the kitchen drawers. Strange really."
Francis looked suspiciously towards the Brit but shook it off with a smirk on his face.
"You really need your silly magic to help you cook a simple meal? That's so sad."
England sighed and went down to his dungeon, leaving Francis behind once more.
It was rather strange why the wand was sitting amongst the utensils. Did England use it at one point and just not remember to put it back?
Arthur walked into the cold stone basement, past all the bookshelves and jars of weird items. He opened one of the drawers on the desk in the far corner and placed the wand down in a small cloth.
As he headed back to the stairs, a series of bright colors came from the corner of his eye. He swiveled his head around and saw a bright pastel rocking horse leaning against the wall. Arthur kneeled next to it, feeling the painted wood. It looked brand new.
"Arthur Kirkland!" Francis called from the first floor.
"Yes, I-I'm coming!"
...
"Where am I going to sleep, Angletterre?"
After dinner the two European nations sat on the couch. Both feeding the babies in their arms.
"In the guest bedroom I suppose," Arthur mumbled trying to hold the bottle gently on America's mouth. Very fascinated in how much he ate.
Francis put his bottle down and began patting Matthew's back.
"The babies will be in your room. And I would hate to have you be the only one taking care of them during the night."
Arthur looked up from the American infant and stared at the Frenchman sitting next to him.
"Well, I guess your right. It's not like we haven't slept together before."
Francis giggled, "It almost sounds like you want to sleep with me."
England stuttered, "No, it's not like that. I'm just saying that it would be smarter to- Oh wipe that silly grin off your face!"
