Author's Note:
Thanks for the complete and utter lack of support on the last chapter, guys, I really appreciate it :/
Up now is something... Strange. America and Canada are turned into babies, and who steps up to the plate? The Italies of course! Yeah... There wasn't going to be so much of the Italies orginally but then I started to listen to the Delicious Tomato Song. Things happened.
DISCLAIMER HERE!
It was the day of a world meeting. And with all world meetings, within thirty minutes of starting, it had reduced to some sort of roving fist fight, with a good mix of vocal arguements in there as well. At this piont, even Germany was too preoccupied with Prussia and Italy to stop the madness. It was complete caos. So really par for the course, actually.
But something was different about today. What may that be? Today, America and Canada were fighting. Yes, you read that right. Canada and America were fighting. Normally Canada kept to himself, and even when he didn't, he normally only threw out passive agressive comments and sent really weak glares in America's direction. But today it seemed that both the countries were having rough enough days to break out into an actual physical fist fight. A small group of countries had gathered around the feuding brothers and were placing bets or yelling at them to stop.
Meanwhile, a fight between the trio of magical countries was about cause some problems for the fighting duo.
England, Norway, and Romania were all fighting about some rediculious magic related nonsense. Nobody was really paying them much attention, and in retrospect they should have been. Finally enough, England, one of most short tempered of the group, wipped out his Brittania wand and blasted out a random spell. Norway and Romania ducked down and spell started bouncing off the walls. Most countries started to duck, except the unlucky recievers of the blasts.
You guessed it! America and Canada!
When the smoke cleared and the nations all looked to see what had happened. Where America and Canada were once fighting there was now two small infants.
The ever so slightly bigger of the two had a thin layering of golden wheat colored hair and a crest-shaped cowlick, and the biggest blue eyes one had ever seen on a baby. They were laying ontop of the small one and gumming on their ear. So it was America, then.
The smaller one, Canada, had equally large voilet eyes, slightly longer and thicker golden hair, and his signature curly hair. He was letting out small whines, as his brother was getting spit in his ear.
Lucky enough, they are both clothed. America is wearing an adorable blue onsie with red and white stars on it and Canada is in a white onsie with a red maple leaf on it. All the countries blinked.
"What are you waiting for? Fix them." Norway said to England, pointing at the two infants on the floor. Englands face turned red.
"I- I can't." He squeaked.
"What do you mean you can't!?" Romania gapped.
"I'm not sure which aging spell I used! I didn't even know I used an aging spell!" England flung an arm out to the side towards the babies America and Canada. "I'm not sure how to reverse it!"
"Typical! You're always so reckless with magic, why is it that your family gets to posess the most powerful magic in the world when you're so inept?" Norway sighed before snatching both England and Romania up by the ears. "Come on, lets go figure this out. The others can take care of the afflicted."
And with that the two were dragged of by the Nordic nation.
And so all the other nations stared at the two baby-ized nations on the ground, unsure of what to do. They were both happy, so did they really need to do anything? Well, happy being a relative term. America had stopped knawing at his brothers ear, but was still flopped ontop of him. It seemed that Canada had accepted that this was the way life was now, being squashed by his brother.
"Should one of us pick them up?" Germany questioned, tilting his head.
"They seem happy, maybe we should leave them there." Italy chimed in, bouncing on the balls of his feet in that way that he does. It was at this point that something kicked loose in France's head and the nation flew into first gear.
"Are you crazy! We can't leave such little ones on ze floor!" France screeched, flailing his arms. America though it was funny. "Zese floors are flithy! Such precious little ones don't belong on ze floor!"
And so France picked up America and Canada. Canada seemed okay, but Canada was pretty mellow so who really cares. America, on the other hand, was squirming around, making a bunch of tiny, 'Imma baby' noises. France tried bouncing him to calm him, but only accomplished loosening his grip on the squirmy child.
"Cheese bastard!" France heard Romano yell. "That's not how you hold a child as rowdy as the hamburger bastard! Give him here, jackass!" Romano said, taking a hold of America. "Look here, you place one hand here, on his little tushy, and another on his back and you hold him close to your chest, so he can't escape. You hold him firmly, so he can't squirm, and also to assert domance because you are the boss! Like this, bastard!" He demenstrated, and to the others suprise, America was now relatively more still, though still happy and babbling.
"Will you look at that." France said before realizing that Canada was also not his arms. He looked up and found that Canada was in the arms of Italy, who had laid him across his shoulder.
"Aren't America and Canada just the cutest little bambinos you've ever seen, Romano?" Italy cooed, bouncing little Canada, who was just happy he was getting attention.
"I suppose they are." Romano said in natural, sort of grumpy, denying tone.
"Come on, fratello, I know how found you are of the tiny baby sized childrens! Smile!" Italy tried to egg his brother on. He failed. Also, on the side France seemed to be accepting he wouldn't be getting either child back.
"Why don't you say that a little louder, butt crotch! I don't think they heard you all the over in China's house!" Romano glared at his younger brother. Italy just smiled.
"Don't be a grumpy tomato, Romano, you'll upset piccolo America, Canada to." Italy scolded, turning Canada so he was facing outwards. Canada was happy about this development. "You should sing a song. You could sing your Delicious Tomato Song, all the children in the villages love when you sing it to them."
"I will do do no such thing, you jerk." Romano puffed up his cheeks in embarrassment.
"Why not? It's such a good song, and you've got such a pretty singing voice!"
"My singing voice is not pretty, you bastard! It's very rustic and manly!" Romano defended, America was laughing at his frustration.
"Come on, Romano, just a little, for the bambinos." Italy pleading, bouncing on the spot slightly. Canada really liked being held by Italy, it was like being on a ride all the time.
"If I sing a little of the stupid song will you shut your mouth?" Romano asked and Italy gave a small nod. "Spain, you know what to do when I say?"
"I remember, Lovino!" Spain said, stepping towards France slightly. Romano took a deep breath and started his song.
("Hey, Spain! We were able to harvest a hell of a lot of tomatoes again this year, jackass!")
Spain gave him a thumbs up, Romano rolled his eyes.
Buono! Tomato, buono! Tomato
Buono buono, ooh! Tomato!
Red on the bottom and green on the top, toma- toma- tomato! Hmph!
Romano was spinning around slightly now, and you were pressed to say, he was smiling. America was laughing, highly amused with the situation before him. Catchy song!
There are tomatoes in my pasta!
And tomatoes on my pizza!
My charming red treasure, how I love tomatoes!
Romano put on a serious face, spinning to look at Germany and Italy, he pionted at the pair.
But
Wurst and potatoes are heretical things!
My brother eats them and just gets more- more- and more macho!
What is a Napolitan doing with Japanese cooking, you traitor!
"Aaaah!
It's France! Protect me, God damn bastard!"
("Don't leave me alone with that son of a bitch!")
And with that line, Spain joyfully put France in a headlock, spinning the man around next.
I'll give you another one! I'll give you a beautiful one!
Eat a delicious tomato and come dance with me!
(Amore!)
Romano was getting really into it at this piont. There was an actual grin on his face. Him and Italy were both dancing like a couple of goofballs, much to the relative joy of the children in there arms.
Buono! Tomato, buono! Tomato
Buono buono, ooh! Tomato!
Ci Vediamo! Ah, Romano!
I'm South Italy!-
Romano spung around to see the magic trio, standing there... staring at them.
"Ah! You magic bastards are finally ready to turn them back! It took you damn long enough!" He grumbled, shoving America into France's arms.
"Yes, it did. Get destracted by the fairies, did you?" France teased, non of the three were amused.
After America and Canada were turned back, Germany dismissed them to an early luc=nch so they could all recover from the strangeness of what just happened.