Disclaimer: We don't own Hetalia!
A/N: Hey, everyone!
Alright, one more chapter before I head off to work. I can't believe how long it took us to actually play this chapter (or me to edit it). We actually spent most of Christmas Eve last year planning this story: coming up with South, kidnapping ideas, and the like. *Sigh* We haven't been able to have a good talk like that in a while.
Enjoy! Please review!
What happens during a world meeting?
The meeting room was already in chaos when the tall doors burst open and Prussia raced in. Romano stopped strangling his brother long enough to watch the Germanic nation leap onto the oval table with a grin of triumph. Every nation stared at Prussia in both shock and bemusement, silence hanging in the air, before Germany broke the silence.
"Gott verdammt, bruder!" Germany leapt onto the conference table and chased his brother as Prussia took off like a bullet, cackling. This was the last straw for the younger brother.
The gathered nations watched the brothers run around the room for a minute or two before boredom struck. With Germany preoccupied there was no one to make sure the meeting would continue. Several nations left the table while others, Greece specifically, laid their head down to take a nap.
"Ay caramba!" Spain laughed as he watched his longtime friend fleeing his young brother's wrath. Prussia took a sharp turn at a wall and Germany nearly collided with the wall, missing it by a hair's breadth.
"Quit paying attention to the stupid Potato Bastards!" Romano shouted furiously. Dropping his younger brother, who scurried away, he grabbed a tomato from the bowl of fruit he'd brother with him to the meeting and threw one at Spain. The tomato missed Spain, instead hitting Italy in the forehead. The younger of the two Italies blinked once or twice in surprise.
"What's wrong, Romano?" Italy asked his older brother innocently. The only answer he received was another tomato in the forehead. Juice splattered from the fruit, landing on Italy's nice suit. Italy blinked in surprise once more but didn't comment.
"Ah, Romano, you need to be happier," Spain said happily. "Fusososo!" Romano only flushed a deeper red.
"Shut up, you stupid Tomato Bastard!" Another toward was lobbed at Spain and this time it met its mark: Spain's forehead. Bits of tomato flew in every direction. England was one of the victims of the red juice, the substance landing on his sleeve. The British Isle was distracted from his older brothers' drunken rage.
"Hey, watch it, git," England snapped at Romano. "This suit was just cleaned." Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, England began to carefully clean the tomato juice off his shirt.
"Angleterre, you should not be so vain," France told England with a rather suggestive wink. England flushed brightly and threw the handkerchief at the other nation.
"Shut it, you bloody Frog!" England snapped waspishly. France only smirked and spoke a stream of French that made Seychelles' eyes widen and Monaco giggle. His flush growing every more, England threw himself into a long rant about the vulgarity and uselessness of French.
"You two geezers are so funny," America laughed, clutching his stomach. Canada shook his head in disbelief at his brother's antics.
"Shut it, git," England snapped at his former colony. He swung a punch at the taller nation but missed when America straightened up, wiping tears from his eyes.
"Oui, you should stay out of this," France agreed smoothly. "Or Angleterre might make you his colony again." He poked England in the side to further irritate the smaller nation.
America doubled over, laughing, once more as the two European nations resumed their fist fight from before the meeting had started. Canada watched his brother and motherlands with a knowing smile on his lips. His polar bear, Kumajirou, looked up at him from his position in the nation's arms.
"Who are you?" Kumajirou asked with a cock of his head.
Canada gave an inward sigh. "I'm Canada," he said softly. Kumajirou only blinked at his owner then returned to cleaning his left paw.
"What did the Muscle-Headed Donkey do this time?" Luxemburg asked hotly, scowling as he watched Germany tackled his older brother.
"Gah! Not awesome, West!" Prussia shouted. He struggled to escape from his younger brother's grasp while India watched the pair anxiously.
"Shut up, bruder," Germany snapped. "You're not even supposed to be here." He pinned Prussia to the floor easily with his weight. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to return Prussia to their hotel room and make sure he stayed there.
"Would you look at that," Luxemburg said with a smirk. "The Muscle-Headed Donkey is trying to control his un-awesome brother."
"Hey!" Prussia glared at the younger nation from his rather uncomfortable position on the floor.
"Lux, why must you be so rude?" Belgium asked her younger brother sadly. Luxemburg only scowled at her and crossed his arms.
"Because he's an idiot," he said. "All brawns and no brains."
Prussia successfully escaped his brother and ran off with a victorious cackle. Germany swore loudly and began the chase once more.
"That's not true, Lux," Belgium scolded her brother, stepping aside when Germany dashed past her. Luxemburg opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he caught Netherlands' glare.
In a separate corner China was lecturing his siblings who had chosen to attend the meeting.
"You must rejoin me," the ancient nation was saying. "Or you will end up like North Korea, aru."
Taiwan rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Shut it, bastard," she said. China scowled and began to scold her in Chinese, starting yet another argument.
Hong Kong sighed to himself, bored already. He was tired of these meetings, where China told him what to do and England sent him furious glares. Standing, Hong Kong wandered to the corner where the Nordics were sitting. Iceland didn't look up from his game of Tic-Tac-Toe when his friend stopped beside him. Sweden spared a glance for the Asian nation before muttering to a frowning Denmark and an apprehensive Norway.
China was too busy yelling at Taiwan to notice Hong Kong's disappearance. It was only when Turkey spoke that the ancient nation stopped shouting.
"Trust me, China," Turkey said from beside Cyprus and Egypt. "Yer never goin' ta be able ta control the kids." Greece sent him a sleepy glare.
"Shut up, you masked pervert," Greece said sleepily as a cat crawled into his lap. He stroked it lightly before falling asleep once more.
"They will listen to me eventually eventually," China snapped at Turkey. "One day they will learn the world is not a safe place, aru." Taiwan yanked on his ponytail rather harshly. "Aiyah!"
Hong Kong shook his head in disbelief and lowered himself into the chair beside Iceland.
"Nǐ hǎo, Iceland," Hong Kong said, tucking his hands into his long sleeves. He stared at the many attempts Iceland had done to beat Finland at Tic-Tac-Toe. The other Nordic nation had proved too skillful, though.
"Hæ," Iceland said with looking up from the piece of paper. Finland finished his x and drew yet another line through the squares.
"I win!" Finland exclaimed for the twenty-fourth time that day.
"I quit," Iceland groaned, throwing his pen down. "This is boring." Finland pouted but crumpled up the paper and threw it over his shoulder. It hit Poland on the head. Hong Kong watched the friends with a bored expression.
"The meeting is rather boring," Hong Kong commented monotonously. "And Teacher won't shut up."
"Norge and the others are acting weird," Iceland said, sparing a worried glance over his shoulder at the Scandinavians. "Norge hasn't tried to strangle Dan once." Already bored with the conversation, Finland wandered off to rescue Estonia from Russia's incurring wrath.
"I'm sure it's just a phase," Hong Kong said with a nonchalant shrug. "They'll get over it. Do you want to get some tea after the meeting? Russia told Macau and me about a teashop down the street."
"I'd love to get some," Iceland said. "I just need to let Norge know. He'll freak out if I disappear again."
"Teacher's the same way." Hong Kong nodded understandingly. "We'll wait for you in the lobby downstairs."
Cuba stormed past the mismatching friends on his way to the laughing America. His face was livid and his fists were clenched.
"Hey, America," Cuba shouted furiously at the larger nation. "What've you been saying about me: that I'm just a stupid communist nation you could easily fix?"
America stopped laughing and straightened up, rubbing his ribs. "Sure, dude," he said. "It's be easy. I fixed Russia, didn't I?"
"Why, you litte-!" Cuba slammed a fist into America's face, surprising the other nation. America had barely stumbled back when Cuba pounced on him.
"Gah!" America fell back onto the table with Cuba atop him, snapping the strong oak in two under his strength. Several nations shouted in surprise and Scotland swore when his bottle whisky shattered on the ground.
"You can't just go saying you'll fix me," Cuba snarled. "I'm doing just fine." He continued to punch every inch of America he could reach. Canada moved forward to try and stop his friend but Netherlands stopped him with a hand on the younger nation's arm.
America tried to shove Cuba off himself. "No . . . way . . . dude," he gasped. "Then why do your people keep coming to my place? Oof!" A well placed punch knocked the wind from his lungs.
Nearly every nation stopped their own arguments or conversations to watch the two fighting nations. England bit his lip nervously, wondering if he should help America or leave him to fend for himself. Denmark's attention was drawn away from his conversation with Norway. At the sight of America and Cuba his lips pulled back in a silent snarl.
"Shut up, you bratty capitalist!" Cuba shouted. America succeeded in shoving the island nation off himself. He stood, wiping a trail of blood from his chin. Cuba leapt back to his feet, ready to continue the fight.
"I just want to help you," America said, trying to ignore the growing pounding in his head. "And don't call me a brat.
"That's what you are!"
America felt his face growing rather heat and the blood was pounding in his ears. He lunged forward with a surprising speed.
"No, I'm not!" America howled as he tackled Cuba to the ground and returned the blows to the Hispanic nation. "Take it back!"
"America!" England shouted, bolting from his chair. "What has gotten into you?"
"Kid," Cuba snarled at America, ignoring England. "I have more than two hundred and sixty years on you."
"Shut up!" America howled. "Just shut up!" Cuba shoved America off himself and drove a fist toward the other's face. America caught it easily and twisted the arm behind Cuba's back. "All I want to do is help!" England leapt forward and seized America's free arm.
"America," he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. "Stop, you'll break his arm."
"Shut up!" America shoved England back forcefully. The smaller nation tripped over the remnants of the broken table and fell hard on his butt. Cuba managed to free his arm from America's grip and whirled around, twisting a hand in America's collar and lifting him up.
"You're not helping anyone, America," Cuba spat, pulling an arm back to punch America square in the face. A hand snapped out at the last minute and seized the Hispanic nation's hand in a bone-breaking grip. Denmark towered over the two nations, a terrifying snarl on his usually laughing face.
"Let him go, Cuba," Denmark snarled. "Before I break of all of yer bones." England froze in the act of standing. Repressed memories were resurfacing and a shiver of fear ran down his spine.
"I . . . got . . . this," America choked, struggling in Cuba's grip. Denmark's face smoothed out when he turned to America.
"Be quiet, kid," Denmark said, almost soothingly, before turning back to Cuba. "I said, let him go," he snarled. He tightened his grip until Cuba released America. The Hispanic nation stalked off, holding his bruised wrist and swearing under his breath. Canada joined him and they conversed in low voices until Cuba threw his hands up and stomped away.
"Are ya okay, America?" Denmark asked, turning back to the younger nation. His terrifying glare at smoothed out into an uncharacteristically soft smile.
America stood, rubbing his sore cheek. "I'm fine," he said in a hurt voice. "I could've stopped him if you hadn't butted in." Canada wandered to his brother's side with a worried expression. He hadn't been pleased when his best friend had decided to beat up his brother.
"Give yerself a break, kid," Denmark said. "We've got some hot chocolate in our room. Do ya want some?" America hesitated, chewing his lip. His blood had cooled and a tired feeling was washing over him. He was now aware of everyone staring at him. Prussia and Germany were standing side-by-side, their chase forgotten.
"Sure, I guess," America said. Canada cocked his head in worry; America just patted him on the shoulder trying to smile and failing. "I'll be fine," he assured his younger brother.
"Come on," Denmark said, placing a hand on America's shoulder. "We're on the fourth floor."
"Okay, I'll see you later, Canada," America told his brother. "I'll watch your hockey game against Russia." Canada smiled at the hidden joke. America was terrified to watch hockey with his younger brother, but he was fine watching Canada play the game.
"See you there, brother," Canada said. He watched Denmark lead America to the elevator where Sweden and Norway were waiting. He didn't notice Norway's eyes flick to Denmark or the slight nod of Denmark's head. Turning away from watching his brother, Canada went to rescue Lithuania and Poland from Russia's rather frightening smile.
America stepped into the elevator, rubbing his chin. Anyone could tell the younger nation was pouting. The reason? He was the hero. He didn't get save, he did the saving.
"Are ya okay, America?" Denmark asked America. "It looks like Cuba hit ya pretty hard."
"I'm fine." America looked away from the taller nation. He was upset with Denmark for stepping in.
"Look, America," Denmark said. "Ya won't always win a fight. Sometimes ya have ta accept defeat."
"I won't accept defeat until I have no other choice," America said stubbornly as the elevator doors slid shut and Sweden pressed the button for the fourth floor.
"Ya need ta stop thinking like that, America. It's exactly what's going ta get ya hurt really bad."
"It's not like I haven't been hurt before. Canada burned Washington DC and Confederacy . . ." America trailed off unsurely.
"What about Confederacy?" Denmark asked curiously. "Wasn't it just a bunch of states causing trouble?" He shared a quick glance with Sweden who just shrugged. Neither of them knew much about America's Civil War. America hadn't allowed anyone to join it or help him.
"Um, yeah, right," America said with a nervous chuckle. "Just the states causing a lot of painful issues."
"Is there something yer not telling us, America?" Denmark asked skeptically.
"Huh? Oh, um no!" America shuffled nervously, tinkering with the objects in his jacket pockets. His fingers closed around his cellphone. He prayed to God she had only been joking.
"Is something wrong, America?" Norway asked, speaking for the first time since they'd all entered the elevator.
"Not, it's fine," America said quickly, pulling his hands out of his pockets. "I was just worried about, um, North Carolina. It's just a small problem; nothing I can't handle."
"I see," Norway said in a tone that said he didn't. He returned to staring at the elevator doors dully until they opened with a ding. Denmark led America to room 413 with Norway and Sweden trailing behind the youngest nation.
"Here we are," Denmark said, opening the door and ushering the group in. "Home sweet home." Three beds lined one wall with a television and a wardrobe on the opposite wall.
America didn't hear the door's lock click as he wandered to the wide window. The Nordics gathered in the kitchen, murmuring to each other. Denmark snapped in a hushed voice at Norway who huffed back at him. America scanned the bustling crowds below, licking his lips nervously. He was hoping against hope the text had just been a joke.
A flash of yellow caught America's eyes and the nation groaned to himself. A young girl wore an open trench coat to reveal a plaid shirt tied above her stomach, shorts, and calf-high leather boots. Her blonde hair had been braided into pigtails and hidden beneath a cowboy hat. She craned her neck, searching the Russian crowd with bright blue eyes. America had to smile at his sister's antics. No one in their right mind would wear shorts and an open coat in the middle of a Russian winter.
Sparing a glance at the Scandinavians, America found them still occupied with their conversation. He turned back to the window and waved, but the girl didn't notice. One idea failed, he closed his eyes and focused.
"Up here, sis," America thought as hard as he could. "On the fourth floor." The girl's eyes trailed up the building and lit up with the joy of a child. America smiled and waved once more, receiving one worth of a queen in return. He made a shooing motion. "You're not supposed to be here." The girl pouted but turned and left, waving goodbye over her shoulder. America waved once last time before he turned back to the room.
Something in the corner of America's eye glinted in the sunlight, catching his attention. Curious, America knelt down to examine the object. It was a long carrying case: heavy, latched, and stamped with the Scandinavian cross. America flipped the latches of the case and the lid swung open to reveal a three-foot sword with a Scandinavian cross etched into it. The young nation's mouth fell open in shock. How had the Nordics managed to smuggle a sword past customs? Quickly shutting the lid, America flipped the latched once more then rose from the floor.
"Wh't are you doing?" a voice asked directly behind him. America spun around to see Sweden towering over him. The Nordic had a terrifying glare plastered on his face.
"Nothing!" America said quickly, kicking the case back under the bed. "How's the hot cocoa coming?"
"It's d'ne," Sweden grunted. America followed him to the kitchenette, cracking his fingers nervously. He accepted the mug of hot chocolate Norway offered him.
"Are ya sure yer alright, America?" Denmark asked and America just gave him a strained smile.
"I'm fine!" America said too quickly. "Just fine!" Denmark frowned skeptically at him. The younger nation's nose had stopped bleeding but a bruise was forming on America's left cheek.
"Cuba really did a number on ya," Denmark commented coolly. America laughed a bit too loudly before taking a sip of the scalding hot cocoa.
"I'm fine," America said, trying to soothe his burning tongue. "Really. Canada's done worse to me."
"What has Canada ever done to you?" Norway asked, a note of curiosity faint in his voice. He'd never thought the quiet nation capable to hurting someone.
"Well." America shifted nervously. "I sort of burned York down, so he burned Washington DC. England told him to do it." He took another gulp of hot chocolate, the liquid burning his throat on the way down.
"Damn England," Denmark muttered darkly under his breath. "I knew he was nothing but trouble." America perked up at that.
"Huh?" Did you say something?" America asked, and Denmark fixed him with a serious and dark expression.
"I knew England would be nothing but trouble," Denmark repeated. "We should have fought him harder." America frowned in confusion. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it when he could find nothing to say.
"We didn't' fight him, for anything, Dan," Norway pointed out. "We only attacked him during the raids."
"What are you guys talking about?" America asked in confusion. A faint buzz was growing in his ears and he tried to shake it away, his head spinning at the movement. America took another sip of hot chocolate, hoping it would calm him down.
"We found ya first, America," Denmark said, and the younger nation froze. Surprise flashed across his face closely followed by confusion.
"What?" America asked with a frown. "No, England and France found me."
"No," Denmark corrected firmly. "We found ya first. We tried raising ya, but Native drove us out. She didn't want us on her land when she saw what was happening. She didn't last too long after ya were born."
America backed away from Denmark, the mug slipping from his shaking fingers. The ceramic shattered on the floor and skittered across the now soaked floor. Denmark, Norway, and Sweden followed America out of the kitchenette with slow steps.
"I don't know what you're talking about," America said in a shaky voice. "You're crazy!" He was now aware of the exhausting rolling over him in waves.
"No, we aren't, America," Norway said soothingly, stretching out a hand. "We found you first and tried to raise you."
"No. No way. I . . . I have to go." America moved for the door but Sweden stepped in his path.
"Rel'x, Am'rica," Sweden said softly. America stumbled back as a wave of dizziness washed over and he shook his head again.
"Sve's right, America," Norway said. "If you struggle, you're only going to hurt yourself."
"W-What are you talking about?" America demanded weakly, struggling to form the words in his mouth.
"Ya haven't noticed yet, America?" Denmark asked. "Aren't ya the least bit tired?"
America shook his head slowly. "What are you talking . . ." he trailed off as realization dawned on him. "Y-You drugged my hot cocoa!"
"There was no other way, America." Norway shook his head as if it made perfect sense. He was amazed the young nation was still standing. "You wouldn't have come with us on your own."
America's face paled in anger and his exhaustion seemed to fade away. Whirling around, he shoved Sweden out of the way and raced for the door, but Denmark was too quick. The taller nation tackled America's legs, causing the other to fall to the floor with a loud crash.
"Yer not getting away that easily!" Denmark said triumphantly.
"Dad! Papa! Canada! Help!" America shouted and he struggled violently against Denmark's strong grasp.
"Be quiet, America," Denmark snapped. He shifted his weight so that he was sitting on America's back and tried to pin him down, but America wouldn't have it. With a great shove, the taller nation was thrown off America's back. America seized the door handle, ready to rip the door off the hinges, when a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders. Sweden dragged America to the floor, pinning him down by his shoulders.
"Here, I have more sedative for him," Norway said. There was a sharp prick in America's neck and the younger nation squirmed uncomfortably.
"W-Why?" America tried to shove Sweden off, but his body refused to obey him. Denmark's voice echoed somewhere over him as black spots filled his vision.
"Because, America, we're Vikings."
Chaos ensues.
A/N: What did you think?
Wow, this chapter is different from how it was before. I tried my hardest to fix up my mistakes. Hopefully I got them all. I remember many of our readers commenting that our scenes were so well done and almost life-like. That's because we've been playing games like this since we were young. We know how it rolls. See you next time! Time for work.
MARCO?! (For old time's sake)