In Which Sealand Becomes Powerful
Summary: Sealand digs in England's things and comes across a spell book. After performing a spell, he begins to notice that he can manipulate the things around him using his new-found ability - Even England.
Peter woke up late that morning. He was still tired from last night, and the events that had occurred came back to him. He groaned.
I need an Aspirin or something... what's that smell? Someone else must be here, because Iggy can't cook!
Getting up from his bed, he went downstairs to the kitchen to be greeted with a cheerful Arthur and a cooking Francis.
"Good morning, Francis, Iggy." England snorted, indicating his ruined mood.
"Good morning, brat."
"Bonjour, Peter. Have you had a nice sleep?" Francis asked. Peter shrugged.
"I guess." Peter refrained from telling the two, especially Arthur, about last night.
After breakfast, Peter, Francis, and Arthur drove out to the G-8 meeting. When they arrived, it was already chaotic in the place. Nations arguing from left to right, and an angry Germany trying to settle everyone down by yelling.
A typical meeting to be in.
Peter sighed. It was going to be awhile until they actually began talking about important things, so he just sat in his seat. However, the commotion continued to get worse and worse. Germany's yelling had increased. Peter shut his eyes.
God, why can't anyone shut up and listen to each other for once? Why does every meeting have to start like this?! Everybody needs to just stop-
Suddenly, the lights violently flickered and burned out, fluorescent exploding all around the room. Startled, people began to scream.
"What the hell was that?!"
"What just happened...?"
"Damn it!"
Everyone obviously disturbed with what had just occurred, Germany managed to calm them down easier.
"The lights just blew out, there's nothing wrong with that-"
"The lights did more than that!" That white stuff from the bulbs is everywhere!" Romano cried. The joke would have been funny if everyone weren't so aroused in fear.
Eventually, the nations calmed down and came to their senses.
Why would they be so scared of blown-out light bulbs, anyway?
"As usual, we accomplished nada today," Arthur growled, driving from the meeting with Peter and Francis in the car. Francis just shook his head.
"But the light bub incident was strange, non? It just happened out of nowhere." Arthur agreed. Even Peter had to agree. That has never occurred before, has it?
When the three arrived in Arthur's house, they found Ivan and Alfred in his living room.
"How the hell did you get in my house-"
"I used to live here, dude," Alfred replied, holding up a key. Arthur mumbled something and tossed his coat on the rack.
"Russia can stay as well, da?" Ivan asked.
"Sure, why not..."
Alfred grabbed the remote and began to change the channel, bored.
"There's nothing to watch on here except for baby cartoons and old, stuffy British soap-operas!" The American complained.
"Hey!" Arthur yelled defensively. The two argued over what to watch, while France brought out they wine. Ivan just smiled and watched the two fight.
By itself, the television changed to Peter's favorite show. The nations stopped.
"Did you do that?" Arthur asked Alfred.
"No! I totally didn't do that! I don't even watch this stuff."
"I have the beverages!" Francis called. He held the red wine bottle in his hand, and glasses in the other.
"Oh, great. Just what I need at the moment."
"Awesome!"
"Thank you. Russia appreciates it. However, I have already have my vodka with me." Arthur turned to Peter.
"You need to leave. It's Adult Time, now." Peter pouted.
"But I wanna watch my show. It's on!" Peter cried.
"No, Peter. Watch it upstairs!" Arthur snapped. Peter glared at him.
"You never spend time with me. You're either working, or getting drunk off of your ass with other nations!" Peter retorted. Alfred laughed.
"He's right, dude! You're always so depressed-"
"Shut your mouth and go upstairs. Now." Arthur growled.
"No! I'm tired of you mistreating me. I'm a country, too! Why do you deny it? I'm a country, too!" Peter screamed.
Suddenly, the glasses in Francis's hand burst into several pieces, cutting up his hand. Francis yelped and grabbed his bloody wrist. Eyes wide, the little boy ran to his room.
"Merde!"
The three older nations went to grab a towel and cleaned up his hand a bit.
"That's gonna need stitches," Ivan commented. Francis groaned.
Peter sat on his bed, bored.
He couldn't believe that he was grounded. He didn't even do anything really, except for tell the prick off.
I guess that's something.
Another thing that bugged him slightly were the strange occurrences today. The light bulb, the television, the wine glass-
He felt a faint pang of guilt. Did he do all of that?
It sure seemed like it. He hoped that he hadn't.
There was a knock on Peter's door. He sighed.
"Come in." Arthur entered the room, drunk. Peter tensed.
"Yes, dad?" The Englishman stumbled on some of his toys and the rug, trying to get to his son.
"C-come 'ere, so I can give ye a blo'y spankin'," Arthur answered, attempting to reach out at Peter. Peter backed up.
"D-dad, you're really drunk – maybe you should lie down," Peter stammered.
"You embarrass me in front of me mates, you embarrass me in front of me lover -"
"Lover?" Peter questioned.
"Francis, ya twit. Now come 'ere..." Bumping into the wall, Peter cowered in the corner. Then, he heard a cry. Peter looked up and gasped.
Arthur was floating up in the air, struggling to get down.
"Put me down!" Arthur yelled at Peter. Arthur quickly fell to onto the rug. Peter ran out of the room.
He needed help.
Okay, I know I said that this would be the last chapter, but I lied. I have an idea for this story, I decided to leave off here. Besides, I don't want to keep you guys and girls waiting!
Until then,
ForTheLoveOfCats
