"Did it work?" England asked weakly fluttering his electric eyes open. The late afternoon sun streamed through America's bedroom window blinded the green eyed English nation forcing him to wince in pain.
"Depends on what you were trying to do," Canada explained ringing out a washcloth and placing it on England's forehead.
England flinched when the icy water splattered onto his forehead forcing him to curl up in the red, white and blue sheets of America's California king size bed for warmth. "What did I do?"
He shrugged and continued to dab the white cloth on his forehead. "You made some light show and then you fainted," he said nonchalantly.
"That's it?" he asked dejectedly wiping Canada's fragile hand and the cloth away. England could swear he saw the mirror appear before his green eyes right before he passed out.
Canada exhaled a stream of warm air. "We can always try later tonight, if you have enough energy."
"What is today's date!?" he asked frantically and sprang up into a sitting position cascading the blankets to pool around the foot of the bed.
Canada placed a hand on his chest and lowered him back into the pillows. "Calm down, it is July 6th," he assured and tucked his former caretaker into one of the spangled blankets. "The world meeting is not for two days."
England nodded in relief before looking around the room and asked weakly "where's France?"
"Just making some food for us."
He gazed into the Canadian's violet eyes only to see America in them. The America he found in a golden meadow. The America that chose him over Francis as his guardian. The America that he taught how to use a musket. The America that fought against him for his independence. The America that helped him in both world wars. The America that relentlessly tried to contain Communism. The America that always tried to be a hero. The America he loved all of those years through and through. In Canada's eyes, he did not only see the picture perfect portrait of everyone's favorite hero. No, he saw something more cherished.
His America.
"What if we can't get him back?"
Canada sighed and placed a hand on his slender shoulder. "You shouldn't think like that." He forced a half smile through the tears that pricked his eyes and said "I remember the last time you said that to me."
England cocked an eyebrow curiously, bands of warm teardrops threatening to flow down his flushed cheeks. "And what did you say?"
"I said that he would come back and do you want to know why?"
England nodded once.
Canada kneeled down to the side of the bed and whispered in his left ear "because he loves you."
"Sir, you are home," a replica of Russia said after bowing his head politely to the British Empire as the two entered his house, or should he say mansion. The exterior and interior were both plastered in either an obnoxious shade of pink or a creamy white causing the American nation to shield his blue eyes. This house seemed as if it belonged to a sweet little old grandmother instead of a demon like the British Empire.
He nodded and licked his pink sugar coated lips. "Yes, Ivan, go make a room for mister America here while I give him a treat for being such a good lad on our walk," he said grabbing the American's chin and caressed it with his saccharine fingers.
America scowled watching the alternative Russia nod and comply with his demands. Ivan was shorter than the Russian America knew and had an alteration of dark grey hair instead of platinum silver. In addition, his usually beige coat, pink scarf and purple eyes were black as midnight to parallel to his menacing aura. His overall physique was smaller and trimmer than the superpower America was used to.
"Now, America, are you hungry for dinner?" he asked in a mawkish voice with a shrewd grin growing on his freckled face.
America stood dumbfounded and blinked once in the house, too prideful to answer the question.
"Answer me, America," he said through clenched teeth seconds away from smacking the other nation across the face once more.
He nodded once but refused to speak any words.
"Good," the British Empire began and dragged him into the kitchen by his wrist, his pink coated nails clawing into his pale skin. "Now you sit here while I prepare," he said throwing his body into a pink lace seat in the shape of a heart and hummed a unharmonious melody. "Lovino!" he called in a sing song voice into the hallway.
"Yes, sir?" alternative Romano asked flamboyantly peeking his head through the oval shaped doorway. Instead of the usual aggressive Romano, this Lovino was submissive to any of alternative England's demands. In addition, his eyes were a blood stained red and his hair, which still had the same obnoxious curl, was dyed a flamboyant blonde.
"I want you to fetch some ingredients for me. Sugar, flour and my wand," he said casually and cracked two eggs into a clear mixing bowl.
"Yes sir," the blonde said bowing his head to the empire and skipped off. In minutes, he reappeared with the ingredients and set them on one of the pink counters before leaving.
The British Empire took out a few extra bowls and pans before asking "now, would you like vanilla or strawberry?"
America sat silently, his arms locked across his chest. His mind was too preoccupied with his England.
"Strawberry it is, America," he said answering for the nation and dropped more items into the bowl. He dipped his fingers into the mixture and lapped his venomous tongue over his thin fingers. "Now, my little pet, next time I would like you to answer me when I talk to you, got it?" he commanded moving on from stirring the mixture with a spoon to casting a spell with his wand.
"Yes, sir," America answered with his blue gaze set at the white tiled floor.
The British Empire ruffled his wheat blonde hair and smiled brightly. "Good lad. Now you get your reward: a batch of cupcakes!" he exclaimed with a clap and held out a perfect batch of strawberry pink cupcakes. He began humming a wordless tune and took a seat beside the nation, his sky blue eyes fixated on his new pet and a devious leer plastering his face.
America hesitantly reached for one and placed a white frosted cupcake in his mouth. To his horror, his mouth began to water just by looking at the perfect cupcakes. He knew his England would murder him if he did not eat the food he so generously made and feared what would happen if he refused the British Empire's cupcakes. His tongue licked extra icing from his lips, which actually tasted rather delicious.
Suddenly, his body felt weak and the world began to blur greyer until there was only black.
The American nation awoke in a peculiar and dim room with a figure shadowing over him. "America?" the voice asked in a light Russian accent, his large hands brushing over his forehead to feel if the nation had any fever.
"Ivan?" he asked blinking to focus his vision. Whatever was in that cupcake made his whole body numb making him unable to move from wrapped messily in a pink bed.
"Da," he answered in his native tongue then leaned closer to the American. "Whatever you do, don't let the British Empire get the mirror, okay? No matter what."
America nodded still dazed from the mysterious ingredient hidden in the cupcake. His voice was a bit raspy when he asked "how did you know about that?"
"Because I met your England once." America's mouth opened to refute but was interrupted when Ivan continued "it was a long time ago. The other servants and I can help you fix it, but it may take a long time. Just behave for my master, okay?"
Master? America thought mutely to himself. Is that what he is?
"Why…why are you helping me?"
He looked down at the nation tangled helplessly in the sheets and answered "because I do not want you ending up like us."
Weakly, America responded "thank you."
To Be Continued...
Author's Notes: Longish chapter and it is a bit boring. So much UsUk angst on England's part. Urg. I think I will make something exciting start to happen next chapter. More alternative universe and less angsty reality. Yeah for 2P!Romano though and more 2P!Russia, although Ivan is giving me this weird vibe. Anyone else feel it? *shivers* Whatever. I guess some things never change whether 2P or 1P. And America did find out the consequences of eating one of the BE's cupcakes. Also I love the BE's home 3 Thank you to everyone who has reviewed or added this story to their favorites or alert list! You are more awesome than the Awesome Trio! [This story now has 50+ followers. ACK. Thank you all!] Notice: on 30.9.12 I am closing the Disney inspired fic poll so get voting because you only have one month left~ Also, does anyone know any good art for this fic? I have been looking around and I can't really find one satisfactory...Urg. Anyways I wonder what the British Empire has in store for America. I guess you will have to find out next chapter xD
Dogsrule: *shrugs* we'll see...
EclipsedDevil13: in this world, a bit. 2P!England is a character of his own (the personality ect); however in this fic his power and colonies is if the England stayed an empire.
Puppets' Master: OMG me too! when I was a kid my favourite character on ATLA was firelord Ozai :/
pandas-go-rwar: *claps* yea~ I honestly thought this was a bit overused but thank you!
ncalkins x2: maybe a little ;) or maybe just implied *shrugs* I am not sure yet. I am honestly writing this as it goes...
Warnings: Angst, language, and poisonous cupcakes.
Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia or 2P!Characters.