"You're sure I'm not going to miss anything?" Peter worried, nestling down into his bed for the night. He seemed to think that the grown-ups were an absolute blast. I mean, we were also adding liquor to this mess tonight. It's guaranteed to get exciting. But Peter was still practically a baby. For his own safety, he's going to bed.

"I'm sure," I tucked him in, "It's just going to be us sitting around, discussing world politics. Besides, I can see it in those big eyes of yours, Peter. You're fighting sleep, sweetheart. Just go to sleep, ok?"

"Alright," he curled into my thigh, letting out a big yawn, "Good night, Terra."

"Good night, Peter," I kissed his round little cheek, "I love you. I'll see you in the morning."

I turned the lights off on my way out and made my way back to the ballroom. It looked like everyone else was just getting started. Feliciano had himself wrapped around Ludwig's arm, finishing his ninth piece of pizza. Arthur and Lovino sat on Francis and Antonio's respective laps while they cracked wise. Kiku was off with Alfred, staring at a phone screen for some reason. I'm not going to ask what was on that phone screen, considering it had Alfred drooling. That's none of my business. I sat back and stared in awe. This was all I ever wanted.

Look at them all, Cronos. They've all been at each other's throats for centuries. But right here and right now? They're all getting along. No one's fighting over the other's politics or how much land one has over the other. No blood is being spilled. It's beautiful, isn't it? If only our boys could see this. They'd be so proud of the world they've helped to create. Of the country their shut-in little brother has become.

"Dude," Alfred wondered, looking outside, "Since when did it start raining? I thought we weren't supposed to get any bad weather tonight."

"Terra...?" Francis noticed as I walked in the room, "Are you alright, cheri?"

"Yeah," my voice broke, "I'm fine. I could stand a drink. But we need to keep it down tonight. I just got Peter to bed."

"Peter can sleep through a freight train during an earthquake and a tornado," Arthur scoffed, "We don't have to worry about him."

"Alright," I guess I'll just have to keep my temper in check tonight. Good. Because I've always been a happy drunk, "Ivan?"

"Da?" the potted plant spoke, making the rest of the room go cold.

"Could you be a lamb and mix Mama a drink please?" I requested, "I need some of the naughty potato water from your side of the world. With a bit of lemon juice. If you don't mind."

"It'd be my pleasure," Ivan emerged from his hiding spot.

"Spasibo, kotenok," I took a seat on a long, wide couch.

"Pozhaluysta!" And like the good boy he is, Ivan mixed me a lemon drop as I asked and brought me a martini glass. Bless him, "Is it strong enough?"

I took a good, heavy swallow, handing him the empty glass, "Yes. Perfect."

"Mein Gott..." Gilbert stared me down, "I'm impressed."

"You're damn right, you're impressed," I smirked, "Where do you boys think Germania got his ability to drink? Certainly not Cronos."

"Germania could definitely drink," Kiku agreed, "Almost too well."

"I'm surprised that boy had a liver left," I giggled, "It's one of the few times where he and Rome could get along."

"Here, Terra," Ivan handed me another one, "Am I just going to tend bar tonight?"

"Nobody's stopping you," I allowed, "If you want to sit and sling drinks for the night, that'd be wonderful. You got a talent for it."

"I still don't like the thought of you drinking, Terra," Francis scolded me.

"I'm millenniums older than you, Francis," I rolled my eyes, "I'll be fine. I can handle myself. So, if there are no more objections, I think we could stand to make this a whole hell of a lot more interesting than the world meetings, yeah?"

"I like her," Gilbert plopped down next to me, "Can we keep her?"

"She's not to be kept," Arthur stepped to my defense. Unnecessarily. He really didn't trust Gilbert with a goldfish, did he? And we can't have someone killing my buzz tonight. I'm here for a good time with my babies. If I remember correctly, according to Alfred, Arthur's kind of a lightweight. But according to Francis, he's a weepy drunk. Maybe when Arthur's drunk, it works on him like ecstasy. It heightens the emotions that are already there. It's a risk I'm willing to take.

"Ivan," I groaned, not needing a mother tonight, "Could you make a drink for Arthur, too? Something needs to pull the stick out of his ass."

"Absolutely!" He really is such a good boy.

"No, no, no!" Arthur stood his ground, "I am not letting bloody Russia mix me a drink! How am I going to know it's not poisoned?"

"Arthur," Ivan's face fell, "I'm hurt. At one time, maybe I think about poisoning your drinks. But that isn't who I am anymore. I promise."

"I've lived," I pointed out, "I don't think Ivan's going to poison you."

Arthur's mistrust still lingered on his face, "I will be watching. Closely. But vodka doesn't suit me. Bourbon highball. Hold the lemon."

"Aye, aye!"

"Alright!" Alfred squealed, "Let's get this party started!"

"And a ginger ale for the little one," I stepped in, "You're not drinking, Alfred. I should've tucked you in, too."

"Aww..."

"Um...Terra," Mattie pulled at my sleeve, "Technically, I'm old enough in my country to drink..."

"Go ahead, baby," I allowed, "You can have all you want. Just remember that no one likes a sloppy drunk."

"Hey, Mattie..." Alfred got close to his brother to the north, "You think we could talk over here?"

I've seen this move before, "Alfred..."

"We're just going to talk!" he whined.

"That's all well and good," I assured, "But don't extort drinks out of your brother. That's a dick move."

"I wasn't going to!" But in fact, that's exactly what he was going to do.

"Alright," I let him go, "Shall we then?"

Ivan kept making drinks. And we kept drinking them. One right after another.

And another...

And another...

And another...

And then, the night started to get interesting. Feliciano and Lovino skipped the glasses and had a bottle of red wine each. Ludwig and Gilbert's steins were never empty. Francis knew better than to get shitfaced and nursed his white wine. We had the music up. Everyone was having a good time. Then...There was Arthur. My poor, sweet Arthur...

"Terra..." he bawled in my shoulder, "I need a friend."

"I'm your mother, sweetheart," I gave him a little pat on the back, "What seems to be the problem?"

"I once ruled the world," Arthur slurred, "I had everyone eating out of the palm of my hand. The sun never sat on the British empire! I was practically king of the world!"

"Yes, you were." Where was Francis?

"Have I let her down?" he wept, his tears soaking my shoulder, "Have I let Mummy Britannia down?"

"No," I hugged him tighter, "No, no, no, baby. Britannia couldn't be prouder. You were her little angel. Her little poppet, weren't you?"

Arthur's crying slowed, but his breathing still hitched, "You…You think so?"

"I know so," I ran my fingers down the back of his arm, "She used to gush about you, Arthur."

"Mummy talked about me?" he hiccupped.

"All the time," I told him, "She came to me once a very long time ago. You were so sick. She was so scared she'd lose you. And every time you'd get sick after that, she'd lose hours and hours of sleep worrying about you."

"She did?" Uh-oh…Why do I have a feeling that Arthur was about to flood the room?

"Of course," I kept a brave face while I quietly scanned the room for Francis, "She adored you, Arthur. Britannia wouldn't trade you for anything."

Now would be a bad time to tell him about the time Britannia damn near sold Arthur for a few pieces of dried goat. She was tired and hungover after her big brother Germania took her out the night before. Needless to say, Germania and Britannia didn't go out for a while after that. And we had some words. Luckily, I found my out. However, Arthur found him first.

"Oi! Frog!" Arthur beamed, "Guess what?"

"Oh…Mon dieu…" Francis knew what was going on, "What, Angleterre?"

"My mummy loved me!" Arthur fell into him, "She loved me so much!"

"That's great, Arthur," he checked with me, "Why don't we go discuss this in our bedroom?"

"I see what you're trying to do," Arthur went from teary eyed to ridiculously flirty at the drop of a hat, "You just want to get me in bed, so we can do what we did in the country, aren't you? God, you're so…French. Well, Arthur Kirkland…Is no two-pence whore!"

"No, mon amour," Francis took him off my hands and brought him into his chest, "You're beyond obliterated. It wouldn't be right. You should know better. There's a difference between love and abuse and you're in no shape to give me your consent."

"Or remember what our safe word was," Arthur added. That's their business.

"However you have to justify it," Francis let it go, "Come on. Let's go to bed."

"Alright, Francis," Arthur could hardly stand. I prayed for him.

"Francis," I stopped him before he and Arthur headed upstairs, "Are you coming back down or is it bedtime for you, too?"

"Like you said," Francis smiled, melting my heart, "You're more than capable of looking out for yourself. But a word of advice? Don't find yourself between Antonio and Gilbert. I love them dearly, but sometimes, they don't know how to keep their hands to themselves."

"Noted."

Arthur fell over into my shoulder, attempting to give me a hug, but more or less holding himself up, "Good night, Mummy…"

"Good night, sweetheart," I kissed his forehead, "Thank you, Francis."

"De rien," Francis kissed my cheek and took Arthur off my hands.

And that was the beginning of the end. Things only got worse from there. As much as I loved my boys, they could be a handful with a little giggle juice in them. Alfred had already fallen asleep. He said he could handle being down here with us, yet he's out like a light. And he was the only one among us that hadn't been drinking. Good for you, Alfred. I'm proud of you.

"Terra! Terra!" Feliciano ran up to me, his cheeks bright red, "Ait autem amen dico fabulam (Let me tell you a story!)!"

Oh, no…Feli's drunk. Francis warned me. I was about to hear something about my son I didn't want to. Someone needs to cut the cute, little Italian off, "Sure, Feliciano. Tell me."

"Iterum," he began, "Avo Romae indicavit mihi de homine cum admodum magnum mentula, multa enim dominatio eius! Habebat digitus in captionem. Avus adhaesit eius mentula in unum finem. Homine in aliis. Et got adhaesit! Numquid non ridiculam eam (Once, Grandpa Rome told me about a man with a great dick, bigger than his own! He had a finger trap. Grandpa stuck his dick in one end. The man in the other. And got stuck! Isn't that funny?)?"

"That's a little more than I need to know, Feliciano," I winced, "Where's Ludwig?"

"Mmm," Feliciano swooned, "Ludwig tam calidus… Sex pedes Domini delectamenti Germanico bubulae (Ludwig is so hot…Six feet of delicious German beef…)."

I see I'm going to have to snap him out of it, "Cogito (Think), Feliciano."

"Probably half naked in a coat closet," he figured, "Why?"

"Because…" Now, I had bigger fish to tend to. Especially when Lovino starts taking his clothes off, "LOVINO, NO!"

"WHY THE HELL NOT?" This is getting out of hand. This is getting out of hand very quickly.

"Tu le dices, bebe," Antonio encouraged, throwing singles up on the table, "Sacude ese culito caliente tuyo!"

Now, I understand why they didn't do this more often. Nothing would ever get done and the balance would fall into chaos. These were our children, Cronos. I hope you're proud. On that same table Lovino was dancing on, Hercules was sleeping like a baby. He really could sleep anywhere. And…Strangely enough, I didn't have Kiku pegged as a little spoon. Certainly not to Hercules, but to each their own, I guess.

"Du är dans!" Oh, sweet lord, "Du är sång! Natten blir aldrig för lång! Oh, sjutton år! Du är fin! Diggin' the dancing queeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!"

"Timo!" I called out, "Come get your man off the table and into bed please!"

And on this evening, we learn that Berwald is a happy drunk.

Hold on, "Has anyone seen Mattie and Gilbert?"

"They're probably upstairs," my favorite potted plant filled me in, "I think I saw Gilbert go off with Mattie shortly after besting Ludwig in beer pong match. As far as that goes, I can't help you, Terra. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Ivan," I settled him, "What are you still doing in the plant?"

"It's cozy in here."

"Wait," I thought for a minute, "You've been drinking steadily all night. How are you not drunk?"

"Oh, I'm hammered," Ivan said, "I'm just not moron like some of others."

"I think it's time we all go to bed," I decided, "Alright, children! Party's over. Everybody in bed!"

"Aww…" they all moaned. Of course they did. It's nice that they listen, though. So, I had that going for me. I needed to go to bed, too. I've had too much and the warmth of my big bed sounded pleasant. After we all said our goodnights and someone dug Ludwig out of the coat closet (presumably Feliciano), I headed upstairs and curled up in bed.

A few minutes had gone by before I heard a light tapping at the door, "Terra…? Are you still awake?"

"Lovino?" I guessed, "Yeah. I'm awake. Come in."

"Do you think…" he asked so innocently, "I could come sleep with you?"

"Nightmare again, tesoro?" I offered him a side of my bed.

"No," Lovino crawled in next to me, cuddling into my ribs, "You're just really nice to sleep with."

"Aww," I melted, leaving a gentle kiss on the top of his head, "You're nice to sleep with, too."

"Terra…" another sweet, Italian accent chimed at my door, "Can I come in?"

"Only if you're not telling stories about Grandpa Rome again," I allowed, "Come here. You can have the other side, Feli."

"Other side?" Feliciano climbed into bed, "Oh…Buonasera, fratello."

"Buonasera," Lovino yawned, "Good night, Terra."

"Si. Good night," Feliciano followed suit, shutting his eyes. Aww…They're so cute.

"Perdóneme, kariña…" I should've known, "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, Antonio," I assured, "Before you ask, yes. Lovino's in here. Yes, you can join us."

"Ok…" Antonio cuddled into both Lovino and me simultaneously. Don't ask me how. He managed. Now, it's only a matter of time.

"Um…" And there he is, "It's Terra, right? I'm…I'm looking for…"

"Ludwig," I cut him off, "Just come in here. The bed is plenty big enough for the five of us."

"Five of us?" he wondered.

"You, me, Feli, Lovi, and Antonio."

"I guess that's not too bad," Ludwig allowed, getting into bed, "Better Antonio than Francis, I guess."

"Good night, boys…" I shut my eyes. It's been a long night, but we all needed the rest. Because I can just about bet the family farm that none of us are going to wake up tomorrow morning feeling very well.

A/N: I'm going to be totally honest here. I wanted to do this chapter for the sole purpose of getting Sweden drunk enough to start singing ABBA. I had to look the lyrics up in Swedish and I've never heard anything so strange in my life. And poor Feliciano…He has no idea what he said. He doesn't know about Grandpa Rome docking in a Chinese finger trap. We don't ask. We just nod. Now, I'm tired and considering a nap. So, no question this week. Mostly because I'm fried. So, to put it simply, I'll see you next chapter! xx