Chapter Seven

The door to the room was thrown open just as America zipped up his jeans, and the person standing there – standing! - was not a baby. America's relief subsided though as he looked up and caught sight of silver hair and red eyes. "Vhat the heck iz going on?" he demanded, his usual cackle not rising until England opened the bathroom door in surprise to stare at him. "Nice shirt, England! Vhere'd juu get it? Zee awesome Prussia is amazed zat you vould vear it!"

England scowled darkly, crossing his arms over his chest. America grinned and stifled his own laugh. It wasn't that bad, just embarrassing to the elder country. Honestly, what proud European country would wear a huge American flag in the shape of a big bubble heart? And furthermore, jeans with rips and American patches?

Eventually Prussia cut off his laughter, returning to his question. "Zo. Vhat the hell did juu all do to... vhat the 'ell?" He seemed to notice the babies for the first time as Italy let out a little whine.

England sniffed. "America has decided he wanted to be oldest, so he turned everyone into babies."

Prussia walked across the floor – crushing another book under his heel as he did so – and picked up Germany by the towel. He stared at those blue eyes for a heartbeat before turning to America. "How?" he gasped.

America pushed out his bottom lip and glared. "It wasn't on purpose! And-"

"I not a baby!" China piped off, poking his head out from under the bed. God knew what the child was doing under there.

Prussia leaped back and stared. "Vhat about us? Juu are not a baby. Neizer is Greece, I just saw him. Or Ukraine or Belarus, for zat matter." His brow furrowed.

"Hey, dude! That's true! Why didn't it effect you, Brit?" America demanded. Suddenly feeling stolen from since he didn't have a baby England. Then he backtracked, because that meant he would have had to take care of all these kids himself.

"For one thing it was my book, idiot, and another I was holding it. Why it didn't effect the others... where were you, Prussia?"

Prussia glanced up from poking and prodding baby Hungary and watching as she squealed in discomfort. "Eh? Oh. I vas at my awesome house." he said.

England nodded and uncrossed his arms. "I don't think you're spell effected anyone but those in this building, America." he explained.

America shrugged. "Whatever dude, I don't care s'long as you help me figure out how to fix it."

England rolled his eyes and then snatched a crying Romano from Prussia's hands. "Idiot will you leave them alone?" he growled.

"Vhy are zey all naked?" Prussia asked, his cackle returning to grace the room for the second time.

"Because we don't have any clothes for them, brah." America said, as though it was obvious.

"I vill solve this problem for juu. I'll raid Switzy's houze for Liechtenstein's old clothes, ja?" Prussia headed for the door. "Juu can zank me later. Awesome Prussia vill be back."

England and America didn't even have a chance to stop him; he ran out the door and slammed it shut.

"That guy is so self centered." grumbled America, tossing his wet clothes into the bathroom. England laughed, covering his mouth with his hand and wrapping an arm around his stomach to stop his laughing. America looked back in surprise. "What's so funny?"

"You're a total bloody git, America! You have no idea how much of a self-centered brat you are!" He bent over, trying to end his laughing.

America stomped over. "Oh really, dude? What are you talking about? I'm not self-centered!" he protested.

England snorted and straightened up. "I'll be the hero!" he mocked, loosing his accent almost and giving a pretty good example of America's signature pose. "You guys will be cannon fodder, blah blah blah!"

America scowled. "Shut up! What about you? Spying... pfft, England, you suck at spying! And if it weren't for you bragging about your stupid magic we wouldn't be in this situation! At least when I say I'll be the hero I actually am!"

"WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WERE ANYTHING OTHER THAN A FAT AS BLOODY HELL IDIOT?" England yelled, and America's eyes darkened.

"ANYTIME! NAME ONE WAR WHEN I WASN'T AWESOME!" he bellowed back.

"ANY OF THE BLOODY WARS!"

"REALLY? WELL HOW ABOUT THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION?" England staggered back as though hit, but America didn't seem to notice. He was mad. England had started this. A casually thrown comment, and then he had to get all... he mentioned his weight!

"You..." England stumbled for words, his face flaming with fury. Finally he turned away, his hands clenched into fists. He opened and closed his mouth several times but no words or sounds came out, so he stalked over to the desk chair and grabbed the back of it, his knuckles turning white. His breath was coming quick, and his throat felt tight. He cursed at himself numerous times in his mind, trying to stop the burning in his face, especially around his eyes.

"I hate you."

"I thought we both knew this already. I hate you too, Britain." America shouted at the whisper.

Britain stormed out of the room, slamming the door.