A/N – Hello, dearest reader! I'm glad you've decided to continue reading my fanfiction. Please leave a review if you enjoy reading this! I'd love to see what you think.

Disclaimer – Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I only own my interpretation of his series and the plot of this fanfiction.

Enjoy!

Chapter 6

When he entered the kitchen, Oliver was browsing the web on his phone. The older country looked up from the screen and rushed over to Allen upon noticing his entrance. Without warning, he thrust his hand out in Allen's direction. Allen stared blankly at it in response. It seemed like an odd time to be shaking hands.

"Grab onto it," Oliver said with a smile. "Then I'll cast the spell and we'll be in Canada!"

He hesitated for a moment before grabbing onto Oliver's hand. As the sorcerer eagerly began to recite the spell, he hoped that he wouldn't notice how sweaty his hands suddenly were. When his heart started beating faster than usual, he wanted to tell himself that it was because he was scared of the unknown.

But he knew he would be lying.

The words died down on Oliver's lips. It felt like they were jerked from one location to another in a matter of seconds, and upon arriving in a mostly deserted road in what Allen assumed to be Canada, the younger country promptly threw up in a nearby bush.

"It's hard getting used to spells like that," Oliver weakly commented. Allen spat into the bush several times in an unsuccessful attempt to get the taste out of his mouth and then turned to face the sorcerer. To his horror, he had gone extremely pale and looked as if he was having trouble standing.

"Oliver! Are you alright?!"

"I'm just tired," Oliver replied, his voice quiet and strained. He seemed like he was about to collapse in an unconscious heap on the sidewalk. "I-I need to sleep..."

Allen had to rush to catch him before he fell backwards onto the concrete. "No," he informed him. "You're not going to pull a Nico on me. You'll sit down if you have to, but you're not going to fall-"

A soft snore escaped the sorcerer.

"-asleep."

He frantically searched for some place to sit down on. There was a bench, but it was on the other side of the road and cars were beginning to come down it. It would be too risky trying to get his suitcase and Oliver over to the other side. Struggling to support the surprisingly heavy country, Allen searched for a bench on his side of the street. There was one much farther away than the first bench, but it was his only option.

He glanced down at the sleeping sorcerer. He could already tell how it was going to play out. Someone would see a very suspicious man – he knew how intimidating he could look – dragging an unconscious man down the street. They would think he was kidnapping Oliver and call the cops. By the time Oliver woke up, it would be too late. He wouldn't just be arrested; he would be charged for being in Canada without a passport.

But it wasn't like he could stay where he was! Either option led to him getting in trouble, so he resigned himself to a life behind bars and began to drag both his suitcase and Oliver over to the bench. He paused to take off his sunglasses and flash what he hoped was a friendly smile at the passing cars, but he could only wish that they wouldn't think anything was too suspicious.

When they finally reached the bench, he gently placed Oliver down onto it. He made sure it looked like Oliver was sitting up rather than lying down. It would hopefully make the passing drivers not look twice at the two men.

"Hello," a quiet voice suddenly said. Allen jumped in surprise and nearly knocked over his suitcase at the sound. He looked up from Oliver to see a young man with violet eyes watching him. How had he not noticed the stranger with the blond hair prior to him speaking? He searched the man's face for any sort of threat, but found nothing intimidating about it.

His tensed muscles relaxed. "Hi," Allen said, glancing once more at Oliver. Rather than trying to lie about why he was unconscious later, wouldn't it be better to come up with an excuse right away? As the man sat down on the bench, Allen sat down between him and the sleeping Oliver. "My friend's alright – he just has a condition that makes him fall asleep without warning."

The other man nodded. He looked like like a normal person, but something about him felt off. Allen couldn't put his finger on what. "My name is Allen."

There was a brief look of confusion in the man's eyes. Allen wished he understood why; not knowing made him feel like he was in danger.

"I'm Matthew," was the quiet reply to his introduction. It sounded like he was whispering, but, from the honest expression on his face, Allen decided that it was just the normal level his voice was at. "Is this your first time coming to Canada?"

Allen nodded. There was no need to lie about that. "Yeah-" He stared at him. "How did you know?"

The man pointed at his suitcase. "You have a suitcase and an American accent," he explained with a shy smile. Even though Allen was still wary because of the look he had been given, he felt like he was with a kindred spirit. He was almost completely sure that he was dealing with another introvert. Though Oliver was certainly nice to be around, it was also good to talk to someone like himself. "I hope you enjoy your visit here."

"Thanks," Allen said, giving him a rare smile. "Do you have any suggestions for places my friend and I should go?"

Matthew thought for a moment. He was about to open his mouth and say something, but then someone came rushing over from the end of the street. "Yo, Mattie!"

Allen's blood ran cold. The voice that had just pierced the silence of their conversation was undeniably his own, but it was coming from the lips of another person! Was that the reason for Matthew's look of confusion earlier? Because he somehow shared the same voice as someone Matthew knew? As the man rushed over with a large smile on his face and a cheeseburger in one hand, Allen tried to figure out who he was. He was American from his accent, so he would be able to determine his identity.

But no name came to him.

How was that possible? A strong American accent like that could only belong to someone who lived in America, and he saw an American flag patch on the man's jacket. All the facts pointed to him being from his country, so why couldn't he figure out who he was?

He wished Oliver would wake up. The sorcerer would understand what was going on, right? Oliver was good at figuring things out.

But Oliver was still fast asleep besides him, so he doubted that he would be getting answers in the near future.

Allen took a barely noticeable deep breath. He would have to play it cool and try to figure out what was going on by himself.

"The meeting's about to start, dude!" the man said, grabbing onto Matthew's arm with his free hand. "Iggy's going to kill me if I'm late again."

Allen looked the man over. Even though his hair was blond and his eyes were the same shade of blue as Oliver's, the newcomer's facial structure looked almost identical to his own. Were they doppelgangers? Could countries even have those? But even if countries could, that wouldn't explain why he couldn't figure out the man's name.

He glanced at Matthew's face. They looked like they were related – were they brothers?

"Oh, hey dude!" the man suddenly announced as his gaze fell upon Allen. "Are you friends with Mattie?"

Allen shook his head. It was so strange hearing his voice coming out of someone else's mouth. "We were just chatting."

Almost immediately, a look of confusion overcame the man's face. He glanced at who Allen assumed was his brother with wide eyes, almost as if he was hoping that Matthew could provide an explanation for Allen having the same exact voice. Once the initial confusion passed, the man paled and pulled his brother to his feet. The fear on his face was as clear as day.

Allen didn't blame him. He was terrified too.

He was just doing a better job at hiding it.