Arthur hung up the phone and let out a sigh, he figured France should arrive here in a couple of hours. Arthur went to go check up on Alfred, he poked his head in the room and spotted his brother on the floor clutching an Xbox controller in his hands and staring intently at the TV. His mouth was slightly open and he kept swaying side to side, Arthur could only guess it was because of the direction his character on the screen was moving. Arthur spotted the container that originally held the video game disc and read it: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. He looked up at the screen seeing blood splattering on it, people being shot, stabbed and God knows what else was happening in there. This is not child appropriate, but at least he remembered how to play video games, but then again what child doesn't.
"Alfred I need to talk to you, please turn the game off." "Okay okay, just a second, let me just kill like ten more people." Alfred continued to stare at the screen not even bothering to look towards Arthur's direction once. "I said that's enough mister." Arthur reached forward and pushed the power button on the Xbox before watching the screen turn black.
"Hey what the hell man! I was fucking playing that!"
"Watch your tongue young man!" England's voice was stern and strict, "I will not tolerate profanity!"
Alfred cringed a little before deciding not to argue, "Fine, whatever. What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?"
Sighing in relief from the lack of argument, Arthur continued, "The spell; I want to explain to you how it works." Arthur needed to make this as simple as possible, this would have been difficult to explain to regular America but now it was four year old America, even worse. "Well the spell requires a lot of knowledge of…vocabulary, I suppose I could call it that." Arthur chose his words carefully and looked down at America, who was looking rather sleepy actually. His eyelids were drooping and his mouth was slightly parted, his whole expression just looked dazed and out of it. "America are you even paying attention?" Alfred let out a yawn as his eyes started closing. The poor lad, he was probably up all day, playing and watching movies. He must be exhausted; it was way too much for his little four year old body.
"Alright then, I guess there's no choice." Arthur bent down and scooped up the tiny 'nineteen year old' in his arms and rested him on the bed that was behind him. It was still not made from when England slept in it earlier that day. England frowned and reached over to smell the blankets; they reeked of alcohol. Sighing, Arthur scooped Alfred up once again, who was already asleep, and went to go tuck him in the guest bedroom bed. His face was peaceful, that of witch a four year old should be. Arthur bent over and kissed Alfred on the forehead before leaving the room, he really was cute when he was this young, so full of innocence.
Arthur headed toward the kitchen, "I guess I should start cooking something then, before when he wakes up." He glanced at the clock; 5:30. Arthur looked through the cupboards and surprisingly found the ingredients to make scones, but unfortunately no tea. "Bollocks! No tea. But then again this is America's house after all." Arthur then gathered up the ingredients to hopefully make beef stew, he was missing a few ingredients but nothing that altered the soup too much.
England continued to cook for the next hour, checking on America once in a while, before his started smelling smoke. He rushed to the stove seeing the smoke rising from the oven, "Bollocks! The scones!" England grabbed the oven mitts, slipping them on before opening the oven, releasing a cloud of smoke. England coughed and fanned the smoke away with his hand before grabbing the tray of scones from the oven and placing them on the counter. He slammed the oven closed and went to check the damage on his scones. They looked like lumps of coal and smelled like it too. "Blast it all, not again." England sighed; he tried scrapping the burn off one of the scones, "Damn! It's burnt to the core. I didn't even know that was possible." Arthur suddenly remembered his beef stew and rushed to its aid. He lifted the lid which also followed a thick cloud of smoke. "Damn! This too?" Arthur started stirring the soup, it was noticeably thicker than it was supposed to be, he then turned off the fire. He grabbed a bowl and poured some soup into it then grabbed a smaller plate and placed one of the burnt scones on it. He placed both on the counter and stared at the monstrosity. "Bolloks, maybe he won't notice."
"Hmm I think it's rather obvious mon cheri." Arthur screamed and jumped a foot in the air. He spun around facing France, "Oh did I scare you mon petit?"
"NO! You just startled me is all! How did you get in?" Arthur lowered his voice quickly, realizing Alfred was still asleep. "And stop calling me in those god awful French nicknames, what the hell do they mean anyways?"
"The door was unlocked. I would have knocked but I smelled smoke" Francis replied, ignoring the other question. "Now where is he?" Francis started to look around the room.
Arthur sighed once again, "He's in the guest room sleeping, so don't be so bloody loud. Follow me." He led France through the hall before turning into the guest bedroom where Alfred was in a peaceful sleep.
"HE"S SO CUTE!" France rushed to America's side getting ready to hug him before Arthur grabbed him by the arm and hauled him back to his side.
"Shut up you frog! Don't you dare wake him!" England whispered harshly.
"Let me take care of him!" France whispered excitedly. "Give him to me! You already had your turn and we both know how well that turned out."
"Sh-shut up. He's not staying like this." Arthur was actually hurt by Francis's last comment but refused to show it, "I just need to find a way to reverse this spell."
"If that doesn't work then can I have him?"
"No! It's not like he's really a kid anyways."
"What do you mean?" Arthur realized he haven't gotten around to filling Francis in on the details.
"Well he still remembers he's nineteen."
"Oh that's no fun" Francis pouted.
"But the thing is, he thinks like a four year old. He can't figure certain things out and has tendencies to do childish things. Hell, I had to give him a bath by hand."
"Can I give him the next one!" France's excitement shot up again.
"No! You're just here to baby sit him. Which reminds me, I have to measure his body so I know what size clothes to get him when I'm out.
"Ooh! Let me buy the clothes! He will look absolutely wonderful once I'm through with him!"
"Quiet! And no, I don't want for him to end up looking like a girl, like you." Arthur found the measuring tape in a drawer and started to measure Alfred's arms and torso, making mental notes to his self.
"This is not girly!" Francis pointed to his own clothes, "This is FASHION!"
Alfred started to toss in his sleep. "Blast it all, hold still." Arthur grabbed a leg, holding it still and started to measure it. "And that is not fashion, and if you insist it is, its rather poor fashion." Arthur tried measuring Alfred's waist but he kept tossing and turning in his sleep. "Damn it! Francis, help and hold his shoulders will you?"
Francis wasted no time reaching over Alfred and pinning him down gently, as Arthur bent over to America's waist, moving the tape so he can measure properly. Unfortunately this is the time that Alfred decided to wake up. He looked up seeing Francis's face close to his and pinning him down to the bed, feeling movement, he looked down and saw Arthur resting his hands near his waist line. Alfred screamed; startling the two older nations, not realizing the kid was awake. He started to flail his arms and legs around as he continued to scream in his high pitched voice.
"GET OFF OF ME YOU SICK PERVERTS!"
"Alfred calm down! I was just measuring your clothes!"
"Mon petit relax. Shh, shh we are not trying to harm you." Francis reached down and attempted to cuddle America before being hit in the face by one of America's flailing arms. "Hey!"
"GET OFF! I'M CALLING THE POLICE!"
"ALFRED CALM DOWN!"
"You mustn't yell at a child Arthur it could mentally scar him."
"Shut up frog! I just needed to see your clothes size Alfred!"
"THEN WHY IS FRANCE HERE?"
"He's your babysitter! Now calm down!
"Babysitter?" Alfred calmed, and pouted. "I don't need a babysitter."
"Yes you do. When I woke up today I found you filthy, covered in mud, eating a whole tub of ice cream and watching a rated R movie. You are not to be trusted alone."
"I was like that because I do that kind of stuff all the time! Not because I'm an irresponsible stupid little kid. I'm nineteen for God's sake..." Arthur head sadness in Alfred's last sentence. Guilt washing over him; it was kinda his fault this happened to him.
"Look…I'm sorry, I just-I just can't risk you being all by your self in this state."
Alfred crossed arms and looked down, obviously upset. "Please just go along with it until I can fix you." Getting no response from America, England continued, "Look you know Francis, just pretend you guys are hanging out or something, okay?"
Alfred continued ignoring Arthur and didn't even bother to look up. Sighing, Arthur stood from the bed passed Francis and headed for the door, "If you're hungry I made food, It's in the kitchen. I have your measurements I'm going to get you your clothes and a few other things. I'll be gone for a couple of hours." Alfred didn't look up and Francis stayed quiet, sensing the tension. They stayed like this until they heard the front door open and close and Arthur was gone.
The silence was interrupted when Alfred's stomach growled. "You hungry mon petit? I'll fix you up something." "I-I thought Arthur said he made me something?"
"If you see what he cooked you, I think you would, eh how do you say it? Puke." Alfred cringed remembering the food his brother used to cook for him. "Fine then, make me a hamburger."
"Oh God no! I will not make that disgusting filth!"
"Fine I'll make it myself!" Alfred hopped off the bed and walked down the hall to the kitchen.
"Can you even reach the stove?" Francis followed and chuckled seeing the clothes Alfred was wearing and also because of how cute he was. How did Arthur manage to make him like this?
"I'll use a chair."
"Non, non! You'll burn your cute little hands like that."
"Stop calling me cute. And I won't burn them if you make it for me instead. Better yet go get me some McDonalds."
"That stuff is disgusting. Besides this is the perfect opportunity for me to fix the damage Arthur has done to your taste buds."
"What damage? McDonalds is delicious."
"Just sit back and watch TV or something while I cook you something okay?"
"Fine whatever it better not be disgusting or slimy or anything like that."
France peered out of the kitchen and into the living room to see Alfred turning the TV on and setting the channel on the Matrix. France shrugged his shoulders, "I bet he's already seen the movie, no point of changing it."
For the next hour or so Francis cleaned up Arthur's mess and started his own dish with the ingredients he brought himself. He knew that he would have to eventually eat in this county and he wasn't going to eat any of the filth he found in this country, so he brought his own ingredients so he wouldn't have to suffer. America's stomach kept growling from the lack of food. He started to smell a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen. He hopped off the couch and poked his head in the kitchen where he saw Francis cooking. He was moving from one spot of the kitchen to the other, practically dancing around and humming as he tended to different aspects of the dish he was preparing. He would move to the stove and expertly flip something in the air and having it land perfectly on the center of the pan before moving to the counter an start mixing something adding a mixture of spices and herbs, "And a sprinkle of love." Alfred heard Francis say under his breath. The man looked the happiest Alfred had ever seen him ever look. Was he always like this when he cooked?
After a few more minutes of watching he saw Francis kiss the tips of his finger tips, "Done." He announced. "Alfred the food is-oh!" Francis spotted America already in the kitchen staring at him. "Hungry aren't we?" He handed a plate of his masterpiece to Alfred. Alfred looked up at Francis face as he took the plate. "Bon appetit Monsieur America." He said dreamily. Alfred took the plate eagerly and sat at the table and started eating immediately. It was absolutely delicious!
"Wow! Oh my God! What did you add to this! It's delicious."
"The only thing I added was love mon petit" Francis responded as he kissed the top of Alfred's head.
Wiping the kiss off his head, "Yeah yeah liar. Whatever don't tell me then."
Francis pulled up a chair next to Alfred after serving himself a plate. They ate in mostly silence because Alfred was focusing too much on the food. Francis didn't mind the silence, he was having a good time just watching the cute kid, thinking that this is what it could have been like if he actually chose him as him brother instead, all those years ago. And hey if he was lucky, maybe he could convince Arthur to hand the kid over to his own care, like it should have been all those years ago.
"What?" Francis was pulled out of he thoughts by Alfred's voice. "Why are you staring at me?" Francis smiled innocently. "It's nothing. Eat little one." Content with the lack of answer, Alfred continued eating. Francis started thinking more and more of Alfred under his custody. Maybe he can somehow convince Arthur to give up the kid if he wasn't able to turn him back.
"Stop staring at me."
"Sorry mon petit."
The rest of the meal was in silence as they continued eating and Francis daydreaming.
Yay! Another chapter done! What do you guys think?
Thanks for reading guys, Oh and I suspect Francis is scheming a bit, you know?
Kind of a short chapter I don't know, it seemed short to me. I'll update as soon as I can!
