Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: Did I say last week's chapter would be rather depressing? My bad – this chapter is the one with the depressing stuff. Also, England's going to explain it all now! Yaaaay! Too bad you probably shouldn't believe everything he's saying. Have fun now!~ *skips away cheerfully*

A/n2: Yesterday, it was Comic Sans day in the Netherlands. No, I shit you not, I'm really talking about the fond. It's not an official celebration day – I'm looking at you, Ukulala – but some radio DJ's here like to mess around with it anyway. So a lot of sites were rewritten in – yes – Comic Sans, just for one day, and it was wonderful. I don't like Comic Sans at all, to be honest with you, but you got to admit it's damn funny to celebrate a stupid fond, just to yank people's chains. XDDDD

A/n3: At the ending of this chapter, France's daughter says: 'Papa, où t'es?'. It's French for 'where are you, daddy?'. I wish I could boast about my wonderful French, but I kind of cheated. You see, there's this cool, French song by Stromae – Papaoutai is it called – and the song's kind of a take-that to the Rwandan father of the (Belgian) singer. He only saw his father three times, and then the man disappeared out of the singer's life. If you have some time, look it up! I think it's an awesome, yet also kind of depressing song. I mean, the vid made me cry. Like a baby. Ehehehe...^^;;;

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 7:

Children aren't coloring books. You don't get to fill them with your favorite colors.
Khaled Hosseini
(Afghan-American author and physician)

Right.

Upon observing lots of other countries entering the congress room after we had taken our seats, I could see, and hear, and smell, that aside from me and Antonio, the following couples also shared a kid:

Germany and Feliciano – a girl;

Prussia and Canada – a boy;

The Netherlands and Liechtenstein, apparently – a boy;

Femke and motherfucking Russia – a girl;

Denmark and Norway – a girl;

Finland and Sweden – a boy;

Poland and Lithuania – a girl;

Austria and Hungary – a boy;

And finally, Greece and Turkey – a boy as well.

Also, don't think the single countries were spared: France, Iceland, Latvia and Belarus had girls, while Switzerland, Estonia, Ukraine and Romania had boys.

I'm sure I'm forgetting a lot of couple of countries, probably, but please bear with me, this day was insane enough already, dammit, and my head was hurting.

As everybody tried to seat themselves and the kid that was with them, I suddenly felt the urge to break down and cry.

I mean... it's just... Come on, give me a break. I had left some awful, lonely months behind me. All I had wanted after I had returned to my husband was a peaceful life with him. Just me and Antonio, loving each other and being happy and shit – and I'm positive most of the other couples here were thinking the exact same thing. They wanted rest and peace.

However, we all suddenly had kids, instead. Yes. Kids, hopping and twirling around us like the little terrors they were. Nobody asked for these damn children – so why the fuck had they showed up all of a sudden? Wasn't Europe fucked-up enough already?

'Calm down, sweetie, don't panic.' Antonio, who had been watching me, gently wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close, smiling reassuringly at my upset face. 'We'll pull through. Everything's going to be okay, I can promise you that.'

No you can't, I wanted to nag at him, but I swallowed the words and just nodded, breathing out shakily. I just really wanted to believe him.

'Why did all of this had to happen now,' I nevertheless mumbled angrily. 'Dammit, we all look like shit. Europe's a fucking mess. And now this crap. What the fuck's going on!'

Antonio ran a hand through my hair. 'I don't know. But I'm sure it has a good reason.'

Again, I wanted to protest, and again, I didn't. I was just too fed up with everything. I didn't even want to think anymore. I just wanted to go home, get into bed and eventually realize that everything that had happened today was just a very bizarre dream upon waking up the next morning.

But I knew it didn't work like that. Also, it would be a lame happy ending to a story, and I hated lame happy endings to stories.

…

S-still…

I'd love to have such a lame happy ending now, dammit…

\0o0/

'Okay, may I get everyone's attention, please?'

Femke had stood up from her seat and clapped her hands. Since most important European congress buildings (like the one we were at now) were located in Belgium, and because a Belgian man happened to be the president of the European Union, Femke was the one that always opened these EU-meetings and tried to show us there actually was something like a purpose for them – before either England, Germany or France took over control with their big mouths, of course.

Most of the time, Femke was effectively ignored by most countries – not because they didn't like her, but simply because they couldn't hear her well-meant stammering over their own loud arguing and babbling. And whenever it was too noisy, Femke had to use a mean little whistle that she hid in her chest – I wonder if she ever washed that thing – to catch our attention.

The whistle had the sound of a thousand dying angles, by the way. Horrible.

This time, however, Femke already succeeded in getting everyone to look at her after just one try – hell, she didn't even had to try, they all started looking at her the second she raised from her chair.

And the silence.

…

It was deafening.

Sure, the kids made sounds, but the countries? As quiet as a room filled with depressed mice.

'Alright…' Femke started, actually looking a bit startled about the fact she grabbed our attention this easily, '…welcome, everybody. It's so good to see all of you again after all these months of absence. I hope you have been fine.'

'Define "fine",' I heard Norway's sarcastic response.

Femke decided not to pay attention to him and bravely carried on, her feline smile plastered on her face as always.

'Okay, I won't beat around the bush any longer – as you all can see, we're currently all having a – quite literal – minor problem. It's got nothing to do with our countries or economics this time, but with… well… with kids.'

Some kids had started to cry in the meantime. Finland, Sweden, Ukraine, Turkey and Greece did the best they could to silence their twerps, while the rest of the personifications just blankly stared at an invisible point in front of them.

Femke swallowed hard and tried to speak up some more.

'Now, we all know who's behind this… this weirdness. It's England, as you have heard already. But as you all can see, he hasn't arrived ye—'

BAM.

She had barely finished her sentence when the doors were all of a sudden bashed open – and England, America (of course he had to be here as well) and a small, teenage boy barged in.

'Sorry! So sorry, good ladies and gentlemen. We're here! Please forgive us.'

Everybody instantly flipped their heads around – which actually was a hilarious thing to see and hear, cracking necks everywhere – to watch England and Co. rushing to their seats. Nobody said a word before they sat down, not even America.

'Alright then,' England said, wiping his sweaty forehead with a hanky as he nodded to Femke, 'carry on, my dear.'

Femke usually was a woman that could hide her emotions and feelings like a professional, but right now, she shot such nasty, cold and disrespecting looks in England's direction, I could seriously hear the other nations think "oh magic shitballs, here it comes".

The Belgian lady grinned humorlessly at the Englishman and then she sat down as well.

'Oh, I can carry on? How nice! Well, in that case, mister England – I'll give you the word right away. Explain what on earth is going on.'

England hadn't expect that move of her and was obviously surprised. 'E-excuse me, Belgium?'

'You heard her! Explain yourself, England!' Switzerland exclaimed, raising from his seat.

'Yeah! What's deal with all these kids!' Denmark followed.

'I'm too young to have a child! It's destroying my very soul!' Latvia whined.

'What's a soul?' Russia asked.

Soon enough, the old fire inside the nations was ignited again – and everybody started arguing and shouting random things again, just like they always did, back in the old days, when there weren't children ruining it all for us.

'I've been, like, so stressed out, it's not even funny anymore! And now Liet and me suddenly have a kid! And, like, the only living thing I can take care of is my pony! We're soooo totally doomed, peeps!'

'I will teach our thing to play music, dear Elizabeta. I have a magnificent piano waiting for it. It will play. And it will love it.'

'Sure thing, dear! And I know some good bedtime-stories!~'

'Veee, I love kids, but I don't know how to deal with them. What do they even eat?'

'Don't worry, Feliciano. We'll blender the wurst.'

'Haha! Ewwww! That's disgusting! You're disgusting, Germany! Hahaha!'

'Really, Angleterre, you absolutely outdid yourself this time…'

Now that the countries were being loud again, the kids became louder as well. The laughing, shouting, wailing and nagging seemed to go on forever and oh god stop it before I roll myself up into a little ball and roll out of the room and flush myself down the first toilet I'd bump into.

Finally, England couldn't stand the noise any longer and stood up from his seat, moving his hands up and down in order to ask for silence. He looked even more exhausted than the rest of us, I happened to noticed.

Slowly, the noise subdued.

'Alright, alright, I'll try to explain what is going on, okay? But please – shut your mouths for a second. I can't think straight if you all start blabbering about.' England rubbed the sides of his forehead, sighing deeply.

'We just want to know why, England. Why us!'

That voice came from Antonio. I glanced aside and watched him as he tried to make himself clear.

'Why would you do something like this? We all know you wanted to give America some loudmouthed English-American children, but why did you have to involve us in it as well?'

'Well, I AM the US. So it makes sense,' America said, opening a bag of muffins.

'Shut up, America – that not what that Spanish loser meant and you're fully aware of that, you stupid twit!' England snapped at him.

His tone towards the American surprised me. He sounded snarkier and more bitter than usual, so I quickly came to the conclusion he and America probably hadn't stopped fighting yet. Which meant they were still on a break. Even though they now had a kid, what meant that England's wish had come true.

…

How wonderful. Everything just made even less sense now, dammit.

\0o0/

Then, all of a sudden, the just-old-enough-to-be-a-teenage kid that had been with England and America, spoke up. And it might have been embarrassing for England, but that little mutant was the one that finally came up with part of the long awaited explanation.

And yes, the runt was already was annoying the hell out of me before he had even said anything.

'Okay, chaps!' he started, grinning widely and hopping on the table. 'Let me introduce myself: I'm Johnny! I'm twelve years old and I like all kinds of things, as long as they're English or American! Impossible, right! Haha! I, um, I'm something my English daddy created, after months of research and experimenting with magic and stuff like that! And it's so awesome to meet all of you! Cheerio! Cheerio cheerio to y'all!'

...

We all just stared at him in terror.

'Veee… why… why is he shouting everything?' Feliciano softly asked me from my left side.

'Because some people like to watch the world burn,' I darkly said.

'Ah,' he nodded.

'To a goddamn crisp.'

'Yes.'

'Destroying everything on their murdering path.'

'Veee, I got it, big brother. You can stop now.'

'So anyway, um, when I was created to be a child of Daddy and Papa, something kind of went wrong, because just after that, Daddy broke up with Papa and Papa therefore wasn't paying a lot of attention to what he was doing (that's what he told me, yep yep) and then he accidentally did something that caused to make kids for allllll of you! Like bam!' Johnny What's-His-Face rambled, not standing still for even one second but jumping and walking around like an ADHD-patient, goddammit.

'And now,' the kid continued, 'all of you buffoons that are in a relationship, or about to be in a relationship, have gotten kids together! And all of you that aren't in a relation, have one as well! But your kids are all like, four or five years old – so silly! Also, I'm the oldest! So I'm the hero!'

'Yeah! He's the hero! Did you hear? All his sentences end with an exclamation mark! He's like the Batman to my Robin!' America shouted excitedly. 'All bow for the hero!'

'Did we just get an extra America and England?' I heard some nations discuss in fear. 'Oh man, and I could barely keep up with just one America and England!'

Germany all of a sudden cleared his throat, stopping all the worried murmuring.

'So, what you're trying to say is… these kids, they're all… really ours?'

'Yes – Jonathan, please come off the table, I'll take it from here.' England fixed the tie around his neck and avoided looking any of us in the eye.

'Right. It's just like Jonathan said – I created all of these kids. I can't tell you how – that classified information and my Queen will punish me if I decide to tell you anyway. But I swear, it was an accident. I was supposed to create just one child, one perfect child, based on my and… hrm… America's genes, but then some dreadful things happened, and the result is now sitting on your collective laps.'

Obviously, there were still lots of unfilled holes left to… fill.

'But how!'

'Yeah! I mean, I didn't even know you knew I was in a relationship!'

'Heck, I didn't even know Iwas!'

'When and where did you get our genes?'

'How can you possibly accidentally mix up others genes and make a kid out of that!'

'I don't bloody know, okay!' England then all of a sudden snarled, loudly snarled, his fist crashing down hard on the table.

We all shut up again.

'I'm… I'm just as confused as you are, for Pete's sake!' he rattled on, eyebrows shaking desperately. 'But there was magic involved! Magic and DNA and—'

'CHEMICAL X!'

England groaned, looking tiredly at a innocently smiling America. 'Yes, thank you, America, for that lovely reference. Was that really necessary?'

'Yes, just as necessary as you thought it was to mess around with our genes.' America's smile faded away. 'Fucking hell, Iggy. If you weren't the personification of a goddamn country, you could get arrested for that. Now what are we supposed to do with these kids, huh? Raise them? And what are they? Believe me, I like that kid you created for "us" – more like you created it for your egoistical, kid-wanting self, but whatever – but what is he? A country? A city? A town? Or is he human?'

'I-I'm… I'm not so sure myself yet either,' England muttered, just as the rest of us very impressed by America's perfect usage of the right words – I mean, it's something we all could learn from, 'I… um, I've already informed all of your bosses about my mistake and I've asked all of your personal doctors to please help me with figuring out just what these children exactly are.'

The Netherlands mumbled something. Usually, just like his sister, we couldn't hear what he was saying because we were loud and noisy bastards. And unlike Femke, he always immediately stopped bothering to try and get our attention when he failed the first time.

But now, he accidentally succeeded in getting someone's attention, because England looked at him questioningly.

'What was that you said, Netherlands? I didn't quite catch that. Could you please repeat yourself?' he asked him – with a face so damn pale, it was just like ash.

The Dutchman hesitated, sitting there with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. But then he repeated what he had said before.

'If the kids turn out to be human, we'll watch them die.'

A quiet flash of shock, fear and distress was felt through the already heavily severed atmosphere inside the congress room – and through our worn-out human bodies.

'That's right,' England finally said after the deadly silence, his voice strained and hollow, 'if the children turn out to be… mortal, we'll watch them grow up, getting older than our human appearances, and, eventually we'll… they'll…'

He didn't finish his sentence. But he didn't had to, since we all knew what he was trying to say.

'Oh god,' Antonio stammered, his eyes widened.

'Really now?' France abruptly raised up from his chair, smacking his hands on the table. 'So, just for fun, like some kind of sick jeu, let's say the authorities will indeed try to find out just what our children are. In the meantime, we'll take care of them, raise them, play with them – and eventually, we'll grow to love them. And then, when it turns out they're humans or other… other die-able species, we'll just lose them?'

England bit his lower lip. 'France, I—'

But France hadn't finished yet.

'You think it's fun, Angleterre, to watch the humans you love die?'

'N-no, I…'

'During my whole life, I've loved so many humans. So many beautiful, beautiful humans. I've seen wonderful men die. I've seen wonderful women die as well. I have even seen the death of the human girl I probably have loved the most, right in front of me, and all I could do was hope she wasn't in too much pain and let it happen. She loved me, and I let her burn.'

France clutched his chest and let his head hang, making helpless sobbing sounds. His hair messily dangled in front of his face, but this time, he didn't even care.

'And now,' he hissed, his breath hitching, 'now you're saying you might be giving us the horrible honor of watching our children die, before our very own eyes. Maybe we'll even see them go to the other side sooner, because of a sickness or even a car accident. Well, thank you very much, Angleterre.'

Then he just couldn't go further anymore and broke down in tears. He didn't storm out of the room, though – he gracefully moved the chair away and swiftly walked out of the meeting, closing the door behind him. His… daughter, apparently, watched him in confusion and walked towards the door as well, placing her little hands on it.

'Papa? Papa, où t'es?'

…

…

D-dammit, w-well fuck this shit I was actually fucking crying right now what the hell!

Fortunately, I wasn't the only one rubbing his eyes and gritting his teeth in frustration – all the other countries looked like they were already mourning their young kids.

And you know what?

I think, in a way, they really were.