Hey guys! Thanks for all the reviews! Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

.:|Silver|:.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia. But I wish I did…


When England awoke the next day it was to find himself in someone else's bed and that same person snoring. The toddler cautiously turned to study his companion, a small smile flitting across his face when he noticed it was Australia. The ex-colony was sleeping peacefully, his lips parted and snring as he lay on his back. Sitting up Arthur yawned, peering over the side of the bed with a bit of confusion. Since when had his beds become this…tall? Okay, so disembarking from the bed didn't seem like a good idea, he mused. The child suddenly had an evil grin on his face as he turned to the blond man next to him. Without warning, England leaped onto Australia's stomach, laughing as the man's eyes snapped open.

"Morning Aussie!" he giggled, smirking a bit as the other blond looked down at him with a dazed expression. About two seconds later he seemed to remember that his 'Mum' was a child. Australia smiled slightly and sat up, one hand on Arthur's back to keep him from tipping over.

"G'day Mum. How was your sleep?"

England shrugged, tilting his head up to look at the Australian.

"I want to go downstairs," he stated, looking at the currently older nation hopefully. Kyle frowned and glanced over the side of the bed, raising his eyebrows.

"And why can't you? There aren't any monsters under the bed," he said. England flushed slightly and pouted.

"It's too high."

There was a second of silence before Australia chuckled, grinning down at England.

"You're too cute," he said with a laugh, scooping the child up and setting him on the floor. The island nation glared and crossed his arms, passing the man sulky glares.

"Whatever. I'm going to the kitchen." With that the toddler stalked off to the staircase. He carefully made his way down and immediately walked into someone's legs. The little blond fell to the ground with a yelp, sitting up and craning his neck back to look at the nation. Why did everyone have to be so goddamn tall? It was France. The Frenchman raised his eyebrows before crouching down in front of him and helping him up.

"Desole. Are you okay?"

"What does it look like?" shot back Arthur. The blue eyed man chuckled and ushered the Englishman to the kitchen. He sat the child on the counter and leaned against the stove, raising his eyebrows.

"What do you want to eat? Anyzing speciale?"

Arthur blinked and thought about it before shrugging.

"Aything would be good. Just quickly, I'm starving."

France mock saluted him and got to work on whipping up a nice breakfast, complete with a baguette. When England saw the bread he chuckled, swinging his legs and watching the Frenchman waltz around the kitchen.

"Do you have anything sweet?" he suddenly asked Francis, flushing a bit. He rarely ate chocolate or the likes when he was older, but it seemed that now he seemed to have the strange cravings for that too. Strange.

"Mais oui, bien sur. What would you like? Chocolat? Glace? Or should I get you some cake?"

"Did someone say ice cream?" asked a new obnoxious voice. The Englishman groaned, looking at America irritably.

"It's for me."

"But you don't even like ice cream, Iggy!"

"Well now I do!"

"Nuh-uh."

"Uh-huh!"

"You both are so childish. You shouldn't argue about some ice cream. What are you making France?"

"Petit dejeuner. And croissants. Zey are really good."

"You don't have Vegemite by any chance do you?"

All the nations turned to stare at Kyle in horror.

"You eat that-that…toxic waste?" asked America incredulously. England didn't seem to be affected that much. Australia raised an eyebrow looking at the incredulous faces of France, America and Canada.

"It's not toxic or waste, I can assure you that."

England nodded agreeingly.

"It's not that bad," he remarked. France rushed to the toddler as Scotland entered the kitchen.

"Are you sure, Angleterre? I zink you might get food poisoning from eating zat stuff!" he exclaimed, checking over the child. Britain swatted his hands away, rolling his eyes.

"I ate it ages ago and nothing happened to me. There's nothing bad about it. You all just don't know the values of healthy food," he remarked, looking at Allistor. "Tell them Scotty. Vegemite isn't bad."

The Scottish man grunted and sat down at the table, eyeing his brother and then the green eyed blond man.

"Aye. It ain' tha' bad. Cer'nly not good eitha."

France gasped, still looking at Arthur unbelievingly.

"Well, at least I explains why 'e can eat your food. If someone can survive vegemite zen zey can definitely survive your food. It is heaven compared to zat nasty glop," he said seriously, turning back to the stove to stir something. Australia snorted.

"You people are just weak. You have to be wild. Taste wild food. Taste vegemite. You'll just love it," he stated, sitting down at the table and watching Arthur pick up a baguette.

The toddler experimentally swung the baguette and let out a delighted sound.

"It's like a sword!" he exclaimed, swinging it around and carefully aiming before throwing it at Alfred. The American yelped as the baguette hit him in the stomach and knocked the air out of him. Holy crap that bread didn't even snap, he thought with disbelief. America looked up slowly before standing up and letting out a war cry, rushing towards England and trying to hit him with the bread. Unfortunately for him, Alfred wasn't really good at sword fighting, a fact that he just realized. And even though Arthur was younger than him right now, the little child was easily fending off his attacks with a baguette of his own. All the nations watched with amusement as America fought against England, attempting to strike him while the island nation taunted him as he nimbly brushed the attacks aside. France finally had enough and got their attention, mumbling stuff about them 'abusing the bread' and how 'it is a crime zat is punishable'. Arthur pouted and smirked at Alfred.

"I told you that you should practice fencing. It isn't an 'old people' thing," said the child snootily, yelping as the American nation pinched his nose. Alfred smirked and backed away as the child spouted curses and glared at him, unable to get down from the counter. Allistor took pity on his little brother and scooped him off the counter, setting him on the floor. Arthur immediately went to America's leg and kicked it as hard as he could, scowling and stomping over to France and holding his arms out. While Matthew snickered at his brother's pain, France picked the child up and set him on a chair. The rest of breakfast went by semi-normally, only broken by a small competition between Australia and America to see who could stuff the most pieces of baguette in their mouth. It didn't end that well. They had to manually extract the pieces of bread, a rather daunting task. After breakfast, the nations decided to lounge around, relaxing. There was going to be another meeting the next day so most of them took the time to go over their notes and take new ones. And Allistor had left some time ago to go get something or the other from a shop. That left England alone.

England sighed, bored of playing alone and playing with his magical friends. Being bored, he decided to explore the house. The toddler went up the stairs and stopped in front of the first door. After a few tries, he managed to get the door open and strolled inside. Nothing much aside from dust and old clothes. He rummaged through the chests of clothes and smiled.


France yawned, putting his notes down and stretching, leaning back in his armchair and looking around. He was sitting with the others in the living room. America and Australia were playing video games and Canada was reading his own notes. Something's missing… he mused. "Where's Arthurr?" he suddenly realized. At that moment there was a growl and a child stomped down the stairs, wearing an oversized pirate uniform with the big hat slipping down his eyes. Arthur scowled from under the hat, pushing the hat out of his eyes and pointing a dagger at Francis.

"Die scurvy dog!" he barked. All the nations paused, turning to stare at the Englishman before breaking out into cooes. Arthur didn't seem to like his response. Apparently he didn't want to appear cute. The green eyed boy scowled, stomping down the rest of the stairs in frustration and waving his dagger at America.

"On your feet, man! Help me tie up these wankers! We'll need their supplies!" he announced. Alfred gaped at him then stood up, saluting.

"Yes sir, Mr. Captain Sir! Haha guys! He chose me! "

With that America held up imaginary rope when England shoved actual rope in his hands. The child stalked over to the now tied up nations, pushing the hat out of his eyes again. He paused in front of France, smirking.

"So, Frog, we meet again," he said, sneering. France played along by scowling and tugging at his ropes. Yes, America still didn't know how to tie well. The Frenchman sneered back and let Arthur threaten him with the dagger. It was kind of funny how the child still didn't reach his height even with Francis sitting down.

"We do, mon cher. You're looking…young," he remarked, smiling slightly at the pout he received. England brandished the dagger in the Frenchman's face.

"Shut up! I'll have your tongue!" snapped the child. France sneered a bit more before complying and shutting up. He watched as England stalked in front of them, glaring at each one of them and stopping in front of Australia, trailing the tip of his dagger under the Australian man's chin. It was a wonder how much he resembled his older pirate form. Except he was cute right now. Kyle stared at Arthur defiantly, raising his chin to allow more space for the dagger.

"So Cap'n Kirkland? Heard a lot about you," he drawled. The child rolled his eyes, smirking.

"You should have, git. I am rather famous."

"Big noting yourself, aren't you?"

"What? You Aussies and the way you destroyed my language."

"Pommie."

"Did you just call Arthurr an apple?"

"Non Papa, Pommie is his way of saying Englishman."

England scowled and would've said something rather inappropriate for his current age when the door bell rang. America went to get it, opening the door to find a woman standing there. She tried to peer past the tall American, saying something in rapid french. Did everyone sound perverted in France no matter what they asked? mused the nation before holding a hand up in front of the woman. She stopped abruptly and blinked before tilting her head to one side. Now that he thought about it, Alfred thought she looked a bit angry. Maybe she came to beat France up…

"Je voulais parler aver Bonnefoy," she said slowly. America blinked before replying just as slowly.

"I don't understand French."

They stared at each other blankly for a second before Alfred sighed and called out to his brother. But it was Arthur who came up, still dressed in the pirate clothes. The woman looked down at him and her scowl changed into a charming smile. She cooed and said random french words, crouching in front of England and pinching his cheeks. The boy bore her for a while, forcing a smile before yelping as someone picked him up. He recognized the familiar arms and turned slightly to stare into Francis' blue eyes. They were filed with a bit of amusement and something that said 'please-play-along-or-I'll-be-castrated'. Arthur gave him the tiniest of nods and turned back to look at the woman. She was saying something in rapid french, and the words that Arthur picked up rather disturbed him. Canada and Australia had also come and were standing beside Alfred, with the Canadian man whispering translations to the other two. They had strange expressions on their faces, somewhere between shocked, amused, disgusted and freaked out.

"-il set mon fils," explained France, gesturing to Arthur again. The island nation dutifully put on the most cutest and innocent face he could muster, bringing up his french and smiling charmingly.

"Bonjour mademoiselle," he said cheerily, one arm around Francis' neck to support himself. The woman, who's name was apparently Claire or something typically french, smiled slightly before glaring at Francis. She snapped something else, that was a really brutal insult that made Canada flinch, and turned on her heel to flounce away.

Britain turned to the ex-guardian and pushed the pirate hat away from his eyes.

"Est-ce que nous pouvons allez dans la maison maintenant?" he asked, grinning at the shocked looks on everyone's faces.

"O-ouais. Bien sur," stammered Francis, leading them all back inside and setting the toddler down. The little blond yawned, pushing the hat away from his eyes again and bringing a hand up to his mouth.

"I'm tired," he stated, rubbing his eyes. Francis smiled down at the child and took him to his room, all the other younger nations following him. They watched the toddler fall asleep, all of them sitting quietly and staring at him in amazement.

The door of the room swung open and Scotland waled inside, clutching the bag in his hands more tightly and frowning.

"Why are y'all starin' a' me brotha like pedophiles?"


Sorry for the long wait! What do you guys think? Reviews please!

.:|Silver|:.