DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hetalia, but I would like to own my own little Hetalia world in my wardrobe. IF NARNIA CAN HAVE A MAGICAL WORLD IN A WARDROBE, WHY CANT MINE HAVE HETALIA :V

((Again, I would really appreciate it if you left me a review on how much you like/how much I could improve/how much you hate it and want me to die. Hey, a troll review is still a review regardless XD Again I would like to thank those who are reading this and adding this to their favourites and their story alerts. Thank you for sticking with this for so long. I wuv you ; w ; ))

Somewhere in the heart of New York City was a woman sitting at a desk inside a large office, wearing a grey blazer and matching pencil skirt and a white blouse wearing neat black heels and a neat tie around her neck, her hair tied up in a bun with her eyes glued to a book about children's welfare. There was a sharp knock on the door, and opened to reveal a man wearing a grey suit with a file in his hand.

"Hey Meg, there's another case for you somewhere in Florida." The man said, handing Miss. Maguerite Williams the folder. She brushed her pale blonde hair behind her ear casually as she reached to grab the folder with another hand, her violet eyes resting behind a pair of silver glasses.

"Ah, thank you. I wonder who it is this time." Maguerite said. She opened the folder and skimmed the documents briefly. She sighed heavily.

"… two of them; both are boys, and both of them in hospital. The father's been arrested." Maguerite said, taking her glasses off for a second. whilst looking at the two small passport photos.

"Well, they want you to talk to this boy here first." Her colleague said, pointing to the second photo in the file.

"Why not this one, is he refusing to talk?" Maguerite asked, glancing at the first photo. The first photo had a boy with blonde hair and green eyes, his eyes stern and not afraid to give you a piece of his own mind. The second photo had another boy with blue eyes and sandy blonde hair, looking scared and worried.

"Well, that one," the man said, pointing to the green eyed boy, "is still unconscious. This one though, is wide awake." Maguerite nodded slowly.

"Hmm… well this Arthur seemed to have sustained multiple injuries. I'm surprised he's still alive. Did you say that the father was arrested?"

"Yes, but when the ambulance arrived, both Kirkland boys weren't there for some reason. They were already at the hospital, with two other boys." The man said. Maguerite frowned. That was odd. If they had knowledge of an ambulance arriving, why on earth did they take him from the house?

"Do you know who they were?" Maguerite asked. The man shook his head in response.

"No, I'm afraid not." He added. Maguerite sighed again.

"Well, you can go now if you want to." Maguerite suggested, which of course sounded more like a demand. The man bowed at her respectively, and left her large office so that she was on her own. Maguerite walked towards her window to look at the view of New York.

She remembered coming to New York once in the winter, wanting to see her son who she hadn't seen since he was a month or so old. She had moved away from her parent's home in Ottawa, the capitol of Canada. She walked through those busy December streets and arrived at the home of him, her first (and only) love Adam Jones. She knocked on that door, determined to see her baby boy.

Maguerite didn't expect her to open it. Amelie, the woman who seemed to be more superior in his eyes. Maguerite had asked her very politely if she could see her son. Amelie's eye gleamed at her menacingly.

"He's dead." She hissed at her acidly. And with that Amelie slammed the door in Maguerite's face.

Maguerite was never really the same after that. For the first few months she was numb, and never left her little flat that she had. But she realised that there were others who weren't as fortunate as her, that there were some parents who lost their child before the baby could draw its first breath. And she knew that there were children who weren't as fortunate like her son.

Maybe that was the reason why Maguerite decided to be part of a special programme for unfortunate children. But maybe it was just that one hope that she would just happen to run into her little boy. He would be sixteen, seventeen the year after.

Maguerite sat back down at her desk and read through the files again.

'Name: ARTHUR KIRKLAND

Age: 16

D.o.B: APRIL, 23, 1996

Relatives:

MOTHER: ADELAIDE KIRKLAND (DECEASED) – AUGUST, 14, 1976

FATHER: ALLISTOR KIRKLAND – NOVEMBER, 23, 1974

Origin: UNITED KINGDOM

Address: 25 LONDON ROAD, FLORIDA

Medical Notes: He seems to have sustained multiple injuries more than once. Has a piercing just above the stomach, possibly from a knife. He has fractured bones, a broken wrist, and suffers severe head trauma. Unlikely that he would live for more than 48 hours.'

'Name: PETER KIRKLAND

Age: 12

D.o.B: SEPTEMBER, 02, 2000

Relatives:

MOTHER: ADELAIDE KIRKLAND (DECEASED) – AUGUST, 14, 1976

FATHER: ALLISTOR KIRKLAND – NOVEMBER, 23, 1974

Origin: SEALAND

Address: 25LONDON ROAD, FLORIDA

Medical Notes: His condition is more stable, a few bruises and scratches. Windpipe severely damaged, but not fatal. Severe mental instability is showing.

"I thought things were meant to be better for children, not making things for them worse." Maguerite groaned softly, rubbing her forehead, 'Well, might as well get this done and over with.' Maguerite thought to herself tiredly. She glanced at the phone on her desk and picked it up slowly and sat silently as it rang with a high pitched bell. Her assistant picked up the phone cheerfully.

"Can I help you, Miss. Williams?" Her assistant asked in a peppy voice

"Hello, can you get me a taxi to the John F. Kennedy International Airport for tomorrow please? Oh, and book me the next plane to Florida for tomorrow as well if you don't mind." Maguerite added.

"Oooh! Are you going on a vacation, Miss. Williams?" Her assistant asked with a curious voice. Maguerite chuckled softly.

"No, I have to interview two minors and see if I could find them a good home. That is one of the aspects of my job you know." Maguerite said in a matter of fact tone.

"Well, no one does your job better than you! I'll get your plane tickets within the next hour or so." The assistant said in a determined voice. There was a clack, and the line went dead. Maguerite hung up and stood up from her desk. She grabbed her small briefcase that she carried all of her work and books in. She walked out of the office and closed the door behind her. She locked it with her office key and walked down the empty hallway until she reached the elevator. She pressed the ground floor button and waited as she tapped her foot onto the floor rhythmically.

BING!

The elevator doors opened and Maguerite marched inside and waited for the doors to close behind her slowly. As the elevator descended further downwards, Maguerite rummaged in her blazer pocket and pulled out a photo.

The photo had her baby boy on it on her white bed, his blonde hair wavy with a single stray curl that never stayed in place, his wide violet eyes were glittering brightly as he was showing off a small but clear smile on his face, as he was dressed all in white. Maguerite kissed the picture fondly, a tear rolling down her cheek.

I already screwed this story up by putting Arthur and Peter in hospital. SO LETS SCREW IT UP SOME MORE, SHALL WE? 8D

Love adding a Fem!Canada in there. You know, for the freaking LULZ /shot

Sorry that I'm being random, I have my prom tomorrow, and I'm super psyched for it, my dress sparkles and ITS PUFFY! How cool am I, huh? Scotland, Prom, Singapore, Hong Kong, I'm almost as awesome as PRUSSIA! XD So I might not update tomorrow.

Also, I shall ask you a serious question! Shocking, right?

There's gonna be a character death (just putting that out there). But which character do you think will die first? Leave a review on who and why.

PEACE, xoxo