Note: Italic sentences that seem like they don't belong are mini-flashbacks. And Canada's dialogue will be in italics as well.
"We're here," Germany announced as he parked his car. He, Italy, and England got out, dressed in their uniforms. Or at least, Italy and Germany were, England was dressed in an old t-shirt and pants of Germany's, which he was drowning in even though Italy had stitched them up so they didn't fall off his body. The three of them entered the World Conference Building, the clock in the lobby reading 8:45. Rubbing his eyes, England followed Germany and Italy to the Conference Room, where Japan and all the other Allies, even America, were loitering around the large table. As Germany went to set up at his seat on the table, England wandered over to the area where the Allies usually sat. Along the way, he stumbled into Japan.
"Oh…hello, Japan."
"Konnichiwa, Igirisu. How was your morning?"
"Exhausting."
"Oh? How so?"
"I...didn't sleep well last night…"
"Really?"
"Yeah…" England yawned. "I had…some kind of insomnia…"
"Ah. Would you like some tea?"
"S-sure."
Japan went over to the buffet table and poured cups of tea for the two of them. Meanwhile, Germany was talking with the rest of the Allies.
"Hey, Germany, you were just with Iggy, right?"
"Yes." Germany replied, assuming America was talking about England.
"Where did you find him?" France asked. "When we visited his house he took one look at us and ran. We were wondering where he went."
"He showed up at my house."
"Your house?" America exclaimed, "Dude, how'd he get all the way there?"
"He told me he ran."
France, America, and Germany contemplated this information while Russia and China were left out of the loop, confused. "Anyway," Germany began, "I wanted to talk to you four about your seats."
"What about them?" Russia asked.
"France," Germany continued, "You said England ran because of you two, correct?"
"Oui."
"Then it may be best if he did not sit between you and America, otherwise his productivity during the meeting will be negatively affected."
China nodded. "That makes sense, aru"
America, however, had a blank look on his face. Germany sighed. 'I swear to Gott…'
"If England sits next to you or France he won't do as well."
"Oh! I knew that! HAHAHAHAHA!" England (who was on the other side of the room) nearly dropped his teacup.
"As I was saying," Germany grit out, growing irritated (this was not a good sign for the meeting), "For this conference, France will be sitting in England's seat, Russia, you will sitting in England's seat, and England will sit in Russia's seat."
Russia wandered off to sit in his new seat. America and France stared at Germany. "…?"
China facepalmed. Germany, now more than a little irritated, shoved a diagram at them.
"…Oh! Okay!" they chorused. Germany took the diagram and showed it to England. After England analyzed it, he went to his new seat as well, even though it was T-minus five minutes until the beginning of the meeting.
"Hey Russia?" England asked.
"What is it, comrade?"
"Would…would you do me a favor?"
Russia grinned. "It depends on what you are asking of me."
"C-can you make sure I don't f-fall asleep during this conference?"
Thinking about it, Russia answered, "Da, I will. But on one condition."
"What is it?"
"You will stop summoning me to your place when you do your magic, da? You interrupt me while I drink my vodka."
"Sure." England immediately replied. Russia blinked. He hadn't really expected England to agree so quickly. Well, now he had to keep the promise.
The clock struck 9 o'clock, and all the nations sat down and the World Conference began. This time, it took longer than usual for the room to erupt into chaos. This was mainly because England was more focused on furiously taking notes on what he could (he was trying to pretend France wasn't just one person away from him) rather than criticizing America's opinions, and France was more focused on watching England (in concern) than disagreeing or flirting with people.
After a few hours of getting nowhere, Germany allowed the nations to take a 45-minute lunch break. As soon as he announced the break, most of the nations ran for the dining hall, leaving the other nations wondering what the heck that was about. Soon the remaining nations filed out of the Conference Room at a much calmer pace, until only England and Germany were left.
-30 Minutes Later-
Germany packed the remains of his lunch and decided to go for a stroll around the building's halls to kill the last 15 minutes until the other nations came back. He left the room, leaving England sitting at the other end of the table.
-5 Minutes Later-
Satisfied that his muscles were stretched out enough, Germany decided to head back and make sure he was prepared for the second half of the Conference (though he knew it was almost impossible to prepare for these things). Along the way, he found England standing in front of a conference room (it was a different one; a spare that is very rarely used. A waste of time if you asked him).
"Hallo, England," He greeted, walking past the nation, who appeared to be waiting for someone. Suddenly, Germany felt his arm be violently pulled behind him. Caught off guard, he couldn't stop himself from being shoved into the room.
The spare conference room wasn't anything spectacular; it was a very large space with an equally proportional table that was folded over, and a multitude of stacked chairs against the wall. It was a room that was for use if anything ever happened to the usual conference room, and it had to be equipped to hold the many nations that usually attended the Conferences.
Germany stumbled into the spacious area, hearing the door shut behind him. He whirled around to face his attacker…who happened to be England. What?
"England!" Germany barked. "What was the purpose of bringing me here?!" When England didn't answer, Germany became angrier. "Tell me!"
England nervously looked away. "W-well…I need to…to tell you some things…"
"Like what?"
England faltered. "Well…like…um…I…"
"Like what?!" Germany roared, advancing towards England. The Brit managed to meet Germany's glare and the two held their gazes for a split second before England fell forward, resting his head on Germany's shoulder.
"Wh-what-" Germany protested, but paused when he felt his shirt become damp.
'Why is my shirt-wait, is he crying?'
Indeed, England had started to shake with silent sobs. Germany awkwardly wrapped his arm around England, hesitantly rubbing circles on his back. This went on for a minute or two.
"England…?" Germany wearily asked, "What the hell happened to you?"
England took a deep, shaky breath. "I…I…" He hiccupped. "I-it was in a…a dream…in my house…with A-America…and…and F-France and…"
France?
"Stop…France, please…don't-don't do this…"
Huh.
England began to ramble faster and faster, to the point where Germany could only pick out a few words at a time. So what he heard was: burgers, extended, France, kissed, France, rope, bed, tied, France, regions, finger.
Was zum Teufel…?
"England." Germany interjected, which somehow managed to quiet England. He (gently) pushed England away from him and held him at arm's length, looking over his red, puffy eyes and his tear-stained cheeks. Embarrassed, England looked away. Germany, sighing, sat on the ground, legs crossed. England stared at him questionably.
"Well?" Germany asked, gesturing to the space next to him. England sat down next to Germany; close enough so their sides touched. He hugged his knees close to his chest as the words about his dream tumbled from his lips. Needless to say, Germany was horrified. How could someone create such a situation subconsciously like that? All of England's actions and reactions made sense now.
"…England…about your seat…"
"Wh-what about it? Will it…" He trailed off.
"I think it would be best if your seat remains as it is until this…ordeal…it taken care of."
England rested his head against Germany's shoulder once more. "Thank you."
The two men sat in a semi-comfortable silence as Germany pondered his new information and England rested (not sleeping, mind you).
"Hey England, what are you going to do after the Conference?"
"I…I don't know."
"You don't know? Aren't you going back to your home?"
England abruptly sat up. "NO."
"Then where will you stay?"
"I d-don't know, b-but not there!"
"England you have to go back to-"
"NO!" England yelled, standing up to face Germany "Don't make me go back there!"
Germany got up as well. "But England-"
"No, I'm not going back; I don't want to go back!"
"England you need to go back to your home, who knows how long it will last unattended the way you left it!"
England grabbed the front of Germany's jacket, pulling him closer. "I can't go back there, I can't! It'll…it…it'll happen…" England broke into sobs. "It will…happen again if…if I go back…" He choked out.
'Dummkopf! Of course he won't want to go back, that's where the dream happened!"
"Okay," Germany sighed. "You…considering the circumstances…I suppose you can continue to stay at my home…"
The way that England stopped moving and closed his eyes Germany wasn't sure if his proposal was even heard. And then he felt two arms wrap around his neck.
"T-thank you, thank you s-so much, Germany I-I promise I won't be a burden, I-I won't even cook i-if you don't want me to, I…" England could feel tears starting to fall from his eyes again. Blast these tears…
Once again, Germany felt his jacket dampen. He cautiously restarted his way of comforting England as the Briton began sobbing once again.
France furrowed his brow as he listened to England and Germany's conversation through the door. He was making his way back to the Conference Room to see if he could find England there so he could ask him some questions about yesterday when he heard England's voice down the hall. The yelling led him to that dingy extra Conference Room near the back of the building. He considered entering, but then heard Germany and decided to eavesdrop instead. What he gathered from their conversation left him with even more questions. Why doesn't England want to live at his own house anymore? What happened there that made him not want to go? Why is Germany letting him stay at his house? Why would England promise not to cook? If it was possible, France was even more confused than he was before.
And then he heard England cry.
Now, France and England weren't always the best of friends; they were more like "longtime acquaintances" who were often found "bickering for bickering's sake" (or at least that's what those aliens said anyway). But when the man he knew for hiding his weaknesses is openly bawling in front of someone (Germany, no less!), France couldn't help but feel his stomach drop.
"England, we need to get going; there are only 5 minutes left until the meeting resumes."
"R-right."
At this, knowing that the two could exit at any time now, France rushed back down the hall and ducked into a room, peeking out the doorway. Minutes later, Germany and England exited the spare Conference Room and walked away in the other direction.
"England, we need to get going; there are only 5 minutes left until the meeting resumes."
"R-right."
Germany removed himself from England's grip and guided him to a bathroom that was conveniently located in the room. England turned on the tap and washed the dry saltwater off his face. Staring into the sink, England's mind wandered.
France's rape face came back. "Onhonhonhonhonhonhonhonhonho n~ come, let's take Amérique's suggestion, shall we?"
He started to tremble.
"You ready?"
England looked in the mirror to see Germany standing in the doorway, arms crossed and wearing a white dress shirt, with his jacket tied around his waist. England followed Germany out of the bathroom, out the spare Conference Room door, and down the hall. And during the trek to the original Conference Room, England couldn't help but feel like he was being watched.
Germany and England pulled open the double doors of the World Conference Building, taking a breath of the fresh air. They were halfway to Germany's car when Germany realized something. "Verdammt! I left my jacket in the meeting room!" He turned around to go get it. As he opened the door, he finally noticed England was trailing him.
"Er…England, you can wait here. I won't be long."
England, though unsure, nodded and allowed Germany to enter the Building while he himself watched the horizon. He had just spotted Italy and a cat climbing a tree (…) when he felt a hand slam down on his shoulder.
When France rounded the corner and saw England standing alone in front of the building, he was excited; he could finally get some answers! Smiling, he approached the Brit and rested a hand on his shoulder, but he frowned when he felt England stiffen and let out a squeak. France quickly recovered and, smirking, orbited England until they were facing each other. 'He looks like a deer caught in headlights…'
"So, Angleterre, what's on your mind?" France began.
"Don't…call me that."
"What, 'Angleterre'?"
"Don't…please, don't…I…"
France watched England as his breathing became a tad more ragged and he squeezed his eyes shut. And-were those tears at the corners of his eyes? France suddenly felt the strange urge to wipe them away. He stepped closer.
England, hearing movement, flung his eyes open, stepping backwards. France continued advancing for every retreating step England made until England was backed against the wall. Frowning in concern, France raised a hand and cupped England's cheek. England flinched.
"Angl-Britain…" France said sadly, "Britain, what happened?"
"I-I…I…" England croaked, looking everywhere but at the Frenchman in front of him. So France cupped England's other cheek with his other hand, forcing England to hold eye contact with him. 'Angleterre…' He looked so…broken…
France's thoughts were interrupted by the sight of England's lips very faintly moving. "Hm? Ang-Britain, what are you saying?"
'He seems not to have heard me,' France reasoned, watching England's soundless mantra continue. However, its volume was very faintly increasing, and France was barely able to decipher what he was saying.
"No…no…no…"
"No?"
England's eyes widened and France plainly see how much fear they possessed.
"NO!" England abruptly pushed France away and ran through the doors of the Conference Building. France, who managed to keep his balance, quickly regained his composure and ran after him.
Entering the Conference Room, Germany found his jacket where he left, on the back of his seat. Shrugging it on, motion by the window caught his eye and he gravitated towards it. It turned out to be just some birds tough, and before he left it he looked down (the window was a few floors up) to make sure England was still where he left him. What he witnessed was France appearing to have trapped England against the wall. Now where had he heard something like that before?
…
Right, England's dream.
That…can't be good…
"N-nothing. Nothing's wrong. I'll sit there…next to America…and…" He swallowed thickly. "And France…"
Germany remembered how freaked out England was after he heard he had to sit next to France; never mind being in such close proximity with him. With this thought in mind, Germany hurried down the hallway to see if he could help.
Not even halfway to the entrance of the building a large mass slammed into his chest. Germany fell to the ground with a grunt, pinned down by its weight. Wincing at the pain on the back of his head, Germany cracked his eyes open to see what landed on top of him. Cloudy blue met frantic green.
"E-England?" Germany asked, surprised. It was after he said this that he noticed the position they were in: England was basically straddling the poor German. In his fearful haze, England registered how awkward it was too, as his cheeks became dusted with a light pink powder identical to Germany's face.
"A-Angleterre!" France's cry cut through the air, breaking the spell. England sprang to his feet and continued fleeing, rounding the corner. In a split second decision, Germany, still on the ground, stuck an arm out to trip France, who was running towards him. He managed to trip France, who fell on his face, skidding across the floor.
"Hey! What did you do that for?" The Frenchman angrily yelled, sporting a bright red mark on his cheek.
Germany's face remained stern. "Don't go after England."
"Don't tell me what to do!" France retaliated, masking his surprised. "Why can't I go after my friend?!"
"It has to do with what happened to him."
France's anger dissolved in an instant. "Quoi? What happened?"
"Well…it isn't really my place to share," Germany reported, standing up, "However I can tell you that it was a…mentally traumatizing experience and it…it had something to do with you."
"Moi!? What did I do?" France protested, staring at Germany in disbelief.
"Again, it is not my place to tell anyone, but I am sure he will tell you in due time when he's ready."
"R-really?" France asked with renewed hope.
"Yes." Germany turned to leave, but he had one more thing to say. "Yes, but he is definitely not ready now. I don't know when he'll be. However, I suggest you keep your distance from him until then. It will most likely speed up the process." And with that, he jogged away to chase down England.
France stood in the middle of the hallway, immobilized by rage. How dare that kraut bastard try to order him around and tell him not to help Britain! He had half a mind to run after him and…and…
France's subconscious advised him that becoming this angry was bad for his naturally beautiful face, and the more he cooled down, and the longer Germany's words rolled around in his head, the sooner he came to realize that Germany indeed had a point. England, as hard as it was to admit, didn't seem to be too happy to see him today. Granted, England was never happy to see him, but today he actually seemed scared of him. That's new. And France didn't like it at all. Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do, seeing as England wouldn't, or couldn't (France mentally recoiled at that idea), talk to him, and if he confronted the Briton, not only would England probably have a nervous breakdown, but also the kraut bastard would be after his cul... So with a heavy heart, France turned on his heel and trudged down the hall, down the stairs, out the door, and to his car. He drove home in an emotional daze, trying to figure out what to do about this new information.
"England? England, where are you?" Germany frantically continued his search for the nation traveling through every possible hallway and peering into every room to find him. Along the way, he nearly ran into one, no two…no, one…no…what.
"Ah, G-gomennasai!"
"Japan? Oh, I apologize."
"Ah, hello Germany. Not to seem rude, but when are we leaving for your home?"
'Scheiße, I forgot about that!' Germany had allowed Japan to stay at his home for as long as it took for Hong Kong and South Korea to rebuild his house and recreate the landscape around it. Seeing as the area was now virtually a crater, Japan would be staying for a while. Not that Germany minded of course; Japan was a pleasant guest to have.
"Well, we will be leaving shortly, but right now I'm looking for England."
"How come?" A new voice asked. Germany started. There was a person there? Ah, yes, there he is. Who is that again? Maybe it's America. No, America wouldn't have a tattoo of a maple leaf on his cheek…would he?
"I'm sorry but…who are you?"
"I'm Canada!" he replied, smiling.
"Oh, right. Canada."
"So why are you looking for England anyway?" Canada reiterated.
"Oh, well, I…allowed him to live in my home."
"Why?"
"Canada-san, we shouldn't impose-"
Germany sighed. "No, it's fine. Well, because of some…circumstance that had arose, England ran off and hid somewhere in this building and I need to find him to drive him to my house," he explained (vaguely).
"Wow, that's a problem isn't it," Canada marveled. "We can help you look if you'd like."
"Thank you." Germany accepted the help, relieved.
"England!" "England-san!" "ENGLAND!"
Canada, Japan, and Germany traversed the halls of the building and searched every room. Finally, above their calls, Canada heard a soft noise.
"Shh!"
Japan just barely heard Canada, but the message got across and he clammed up. Canada tried to get Germany's attention as well, and when he did, Canada put his finger to his lips, the universal sigh to shut up. Begrudgingly, the German complied. Soon the sound of dry sobs reached the ears of then three of them. Canada pointed to the door of the Conference Room, indicating the source of the sound. In response, Germany walked over to the door and violently kicked it open (Japan winced at the sound at the explosion of sound it made when it hit the wall. Somewhere else in the world, Switzerland and Austria winced at the cost of the damage of the doorknob and the wallpaper).
"Germany, you probably scared whoever was in this room by doing that!" Canada scolded.
Germany blushed. "Er…sorry?"
'Yay, he heard me!' In his jubilation, Canada almost ran into the table. Coming back from Cloud 9, he noted breathing coming from under the table. He looked under it to find England on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. Canada squatted down to eyelevel with him. "E-England?"
England looked up to find a nation staring at him. Who…?
"…You're…n-not…America…are you?"
Canada was shocked; because not only England could actually tell he wasn't America on the first try (though under any other context it would have been solely for that reason) but also…did England always look so…helpless?
"I-I'm Canada."
England studied Canada's face for what seemed like an excruciatingly long time. "Okay."
"England-san," Japan began peering down at England, "We should be going, yes?"
"We?"
"Japan will be staying in my home as well," A deep, German-accented voice input. "Is that fine?"
"Yeah," England responded after some thought. He crawled out and Canada helped him up.
"Are we leaving now?" England asked.
Germany shook his head. "We have to find Italy and let him know we're leaving. He is bringing his brother as well in their car."
"Oh, I saw him; he was outside near a tree."
"A-actually, can I come with you guys? I want to talk to England, and I think America drove off without me," Canada admitted.
Germany rubbed his temples. "Fine, it you must.
"Yay!"
Japan's spoke up. "Germany-san, do you hear something?"
"Um…"
"Germany! Germany! Help me, Germany, help me, help me, help me! Germany please I really mean it this time! Help me!"
"ITALY!" Germany dashed outside, the other nations with him struggling to keep up with the frantic German. They arrived outside the main entrance, where Germany was looking up a tree with an extremely cross expression on his face. Following Germany's gaze, they found Italy on of the highest branches of the tree.
"Italy! What the hell are you doing up there!" Germany yelled.
"Germany~! I was chasing this really cute kitty and it climbed up this tree so I climbed up it too but then it jumped down and now I'm stuck!"
"Can't you climb down?!"
"I can't; it's too scary!"
'Find your happy place, find your happy place, find it!'
"Italy-kun!" Japan called out. "Try lowering your foot onto the branch next to you!"
"V-ve?" Italy took Japan's advice, stepping over to the mentioned branch with one foot. As this was going on, Romano, who had apparently been waiting in Italy's car since the Conference ended, stormed over to them. Or, more specifically, Germany.
"Oi, potato bastard!" he yelled, "Where the hell did you take mi fratello?!"
"He's up there." Germany pointed to the stranded Italian above them.
"What the f*ck are you doing up there, idiota?!"
"Wah! I'm sorry fratello! I'm getting down now!"
"You'd better! You're lucky you have the keys or I would have left without you a long time ago!"
"V-ve!"
CRACK.
"What was that?"
"I think…" England started to answer Japan's question when another CRACK interrupted him. "What…"
"Ve!"
"CH-CHIGI!" "Oof!"
With a sickening snap, the branch Italy had just placed his foot on gave way. The younger Italian tumbled down and crashed onto Germany. The traitor branch however, plummeted and managed to pin Romano to the ground.
Romano blearily opened his eyes to find…someone… worriedly hovering over him.
"Are you alright?" The person asked.
"Wh-who the hell are you?"
"I'm Canada! ...We should get this off you…"
"You think? That might be helpful!" Romano grimaced.
"R-right!" Canada attempted to lift the log off Romano's chest, but it barely budged. "Maple! This is heavy!"
Romano tried helping by pushing the wood away from him, but his and Canada's combined efforts still proved futile.
"Dammit! Chigi…" Romano shifted his position to try to make it easier to breathe. When he did, he saw Italy sprawled on top of Germany out of the corner of his eye.
Italy on top of Germany…
…
"WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU DOING TO MI FRATELLO YOU PERVERTED POTATO BASTARD?!"
With a sudden, random burst of strength, Romano flung the tree limb a good ways away from him, almost taking out Canada in the process. He angrily stomped over to Italy and Germany. "Well?! What's your answer?!"
"He just landed on me," Germany tried to explain.
"And you!" Romano turned his attention to Italy. "Why the hell are you so close to the potato bastard?!"
"But fratello, Germany is so comfy!"
If Romano got any angrier, he would probably overheat and explode. He roughly yanked his brother away from the German. "What the f*ck are you talking about, the potato bastard is a selfish jackass; is your brain a potato now?!"
"V-ve! No, but Germany caught me and that means he's nice and he protects me! He always helps me when I'm in a pinch, especially if it's to his advantage, and he's very muscular and macho and pretty and he's whiter than anybody! And that has to count for something in this day and age or at least in keeping liquor stares out of your neighborhood! Plus Germans sound real funny, and laughter is good for the heart!"
"Veneziano," Romano shyly ventured, "Could you say nice things about me too?"
"…Ve~…"
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"I HATE YOU SO MUCH!" "I can't breathe bro, I can't breathe!"
England watched the one-sided fight in bewilderment. "Is…this normal?"
"Yes," Japan answered without looking away from the scene.
"SHUT UP!" Germany roared, quieting everyone around him. Kinda.
"Don't tell me what to do, macho potato!"
Germany opened his mouth to retaliate, but then thought better of it. "Anyway, it turns out I only have room for three people in my car."
"Ve~ our car seats four!"
"Don't interrupt me like that. So since I will be driving my car and Italy and Romano will be taking their own car, then there will be two seats in my car and two in Italy's-" Romano scowled "-and there are three of you. One of you needs to go in Italy's car."
"I-I'll go with Germany-san," Japan quickly volunteered, paling a little.
"Alright," Germany turned to Canada and England, "Which of you is going to travel in Italy's car?"
Canada and England watched each other, trying to see if the other would volunteer first.
"I'll-"
"I'll go."
Canada looked at England in surprise.
"Are you sure?" Japan asked.
"Yeah, America told me once about their driving. It can be very…erratic…"
"I-I'll be fine!" England insisted, but he was starting to have his doubts.
"Ve~, England, let's go!" Italy cheered.
"Shotgun is mine, bastards!" Romano hollered, sprinting towards the car.
"We'll meet you there!" England heard Germany call after them.
"Whatever, macho potato!"
Italy ushered England into the back seat of their convertible while Romano quickly claimed his desired seat, making sure the top was down; Italy entered the driver's seat.
"Ve~ are you ready?"
England fumbled with his seatbelt. "Y-yes."
"Can you just step on it already?" Romano grumbled. "I want to beat the potato bastard to his own house."
"Si~!" Italy pounded his foot on the gas pedal.
Germany led Canada and Japan to his car, and the three of them took seats: Germany driving, Canada with shotgun and Japan in the back next to his suitcases that they placed in earlier. As they settled in for the short trip, a loud screech of pierced the air, accompanied by whooping and laughter, and a shrill, rather girlish scream.
"Who's…screaming?"
"England."
"Brave soul," Japan murmured. "Making such a sacrifice…"
"Yeah," Canada agreed. Germany sweatdropped. He turned the car on and started to head out, noting the violent skid marks on the pavement.
"So…" Canada started, trying to change the subject, "Are you sure that you can't tell us what's up with England?"
"Well…I'm not sure I should…"
"Germany-san, it may be helpful for you to tell us what is wrong so we won't cause him distress."
Germany sighed. "Alright," he consented as they turned onto the highway, "According to him, it all started with a dream…"
The street was quiet. Quiet and peaceful. And then, a loud engine was heard. And then came the cheering, joined by the screams.
England was still in the backseat, eyes squeezed shut, gripping the seat as if his life depended on it (it probably did). Italy and Romano however, were clearly enjoying themselves.
"Go faster, idiota; go faster!"
"VE~!"
'I'mgonnadieI'mgonnadieI'mgonnadieI'mgonnadie!'
Finally, the three arrived at Germany's house. Italy abruptly hit the brakes, somehow managing to send the car into a tight spin, briefly tipping dangerously sideways before it stopped.
"Alright, nice driving fratello!" Romano praised, slapping Italy on the back.
"Ve~ grazie!" Italy glanced behind him at England, whose skin was beyond deathly pale. "Did you like it England?" Before England could even think about his response, Italy barreled on. "Ve~ maybe next time I'll show you my famous butt driving trick! But I still have to show Japan…" The Italian mused.
"Whatever," Romano commented, getting out of the car. "As long as you stay away from the potato bastard."
"But fratello~!" Italy whined as he too exited the car. The two Italians started another discussion that lasted until they realized England was still in the vehicle.
"England~!" Italy tapped the window. "Are you coming~?" He giggled. England looked funny curled up into a ball like that!
"Oh, let me do it." Romano threw open the car door. England slowly turned his head and cracked his eyes open to stare at the older Italian man. South Italy (nervously) held out his hand. England stared at it.
"Well? Are you going to take it or not? I don't have all day, dammit!"
The traumatized Brit slowly grasped the offered hand. Romano promptly yanked England out; after about two steps, England fell flat on his face. Italy bent down to poke him.
"Oh, don't tell me you're asleep!" Romano complained.
We'll go faster next time, ve~! So you'll stay awake!"
England groaned.
By the time Germany arrived with his passengers, England still hadn't moved, and Italy was still poking him, Romano scowling at the both of them. When he saw Germany's car approaching, his scowl deepened and he retreated inside the house. Canada walked over to Italy.
"Is he okay?" he asked, Japan and Germany trailing behind.
"Ve~ I don't know. He's been like this since he arrived. Maybe I should faster next time~!"
"Iie, I think he would appreciate it if you went slower."
Germany shook England's shoulder. "England, are you alright?"
"Ugh…why won't the ground stop moving? I swear I'll never ride in a car again; somebody please kill me."
"No one will be killed here England."
"Gah…"
Germany almost bent down and picked England up over his shoulder as if he was Italy, but then wondered: would that trigger something from his dream? He recalled being told France carried him in the same manner. Ugh, he was going to have to pay a lot more attention to these things wasn't he. Finally, Germany just picked him up bridal style and carried him into the house. Italy skipped ahead of him, and Canada and Japan worked together to retrieve Japan's suitcases from his car; Germany came to help after setting England down on the couch so the Briton could pull himself together.
A/N: Hi again! Sorry for not updating as much, school is a bitch.
I'm also sorry for not really updating my other stories that much; I've hit a writer's block on them and this one has kind of taken priority. But it would also be great if the others got more reviews!
This story will probably end up being 10 chapters or less. I already have Chapters 8 and 9 planned, and I'm writing Chapter 7 now, so this story should be ending soon! However, I think I'm going to end up making this like a "Worst Nightmare" series. I have other nightmares planned already. I dunno. Only time will tell…
Oh, and also, Canada is noticed because I want him to be noticed. And I probably won't include Kumajiro that much; I don't really like him nor know his 'personality' all that well.
I like writing Romano's character. Can you tell? XD