A/N: I. Got. Reviews. :D YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THAT MAKES ME. I can't believe I actually got reviews XD Even if I didn't get many, I was SO thrilled! Yeah, okay, Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue, and sure, Neil Armstrong landed on the moon, whatever. I GOT REVIEWS ON MY HETALIA FANFICTION. XDDD So, uhm… I'd be happy if you guys bare with me. This WILL get interesting. Soon. I promise. XD I'm just horrible at getting the ball rolling… BUT I SWEAR I AM TRYING….
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Alfred's eyes slowly fluttered open as he came to. He found he was laying on a rather comfortable surface, a bed. This however, was most definitely NOT his room. Confused, he scanned the area for some indication of where he had settled. Wherever he was, it sure was old fashioned. The floor was made up of wooden planks, and the wall made up of wooden panels. In other words, if you were to take this place in from Alfred's perspective, you would simply think; Wood. Everywhere.
The American noticed he felt slightly dizzy, and he sat up, then feeling slightly light headed too. He could make out bits of a conversation going on outside the door, but he was unsure of the basis of the dialogue, considering he had slept through it.
"-And that's that? We've already lost enough allies in this, you think we can just let him go too?" a familiar voice exclaimed. By the tone and accent, Alfred was able to infer that had been England speaking.
"We aren't LOSING him, Arthur. It's not a life or death situation! We just need you to depart to China before anything else happens, and we don't have time to deal with the injured at this point." another voice retorted. He wasn't quite sure whom this voice belonged to. The one thing Alfred was sure of was that the man had one heck of a Scottish accent. It must have been one of England's brothers or something.
"What if it was you?" the British man exclaimed. "You'd want to go... If we tried to leave you here you... Well, you just wouldn't stand for that!"
"Arthur, I honestly don't care if you take the boy." the other man replied. "All I'm gonna say is that if he slows you down or gets hurt, nobody is gonna come rescue you. We have our own jobs."
"Whatever... Just... Go. Whatever." England replied grumpily toward the other man. Within a matter of seconds, Alfred watched as the door opened and the Englishman entered the room.
"What's going on?" was the first thing Alfred asked the other. Arthur stared blankly at the American, frowning.
"Your country Alfred..." England began. "Well it was... Attacked. Bombed..."
Alfred gaped at the other, not sure how to take that in. "What...?" he asked. His surprised reaction slowly developed into anger, and he tightly gripped his bed sheets to hold back his dreaded emotions. "I fucking knew it... Damn commie bastard, oh I swear I'll-"
"Language Alfred." Arthur replied. "Look, it's not like they hit a lot of your country, only a chunk of the Southern regions."
"Who CARES how little or how much they hit?" yelled Alfred. "They still goddamn bombed America! Me!" he exclaimed, his affluent anger showing itself. "They shouldn't be fucking doing this! To anyone!"
"I know..." Arthur replied in a placid manner. "Which is why we're going to go to them ourselves and check out whatever they're doing with their weaponry, and maybe even see why they're doing this."
"And let me guess. You're leaving me here because I'm injured. Right?" Alfred asked with disdain.
"No Alfred. Actually I came in here for the exact opposite reason." England rejoined. "I came to ask you if you'd be willing to come and help us."
"Oh?" Alfred asked in return. "Well, duh. Of course I will." he stated, grinning goofily.
Arthur smiled back softly. "Well, good. You should... Get dressed then. And then come meet everyone." he directed, turning around and beginning to leave.
"Oh! Wait!" Alfred exclaimed after the other. "Meet you where? I-I'm not exactly sure where I am..."
"Right. We're still in the conference building. They have spare rooms here." Arthur explained. "Just go downstairs into the conference room, alright?"
Alfred nodded and watched as the other walked out. With some effort, he was able to stand, but the American was quite surprised at how hard of a time he was having performing such simple tasks, like standing and walking. But he figured that was just because, well, his country WAS bombed. He was pleased to see someone had left a pile of clean clothes for him. He changed quickly, humming to himself as he did so. After he was clothed in the clean attire, (A white shirt, jeans, and of course his favorite leather jacket,) he exited the room to find himself in the familiar hallway.
"Nng... Shit…" he groaned, the light in the hallway irritating his eyes, and causing him to acknowledge a migraine that was slowly growing in the back of his head, that he had not noticed anterior to walking out of the room he had rested in. He made his way through the hallways, into the conference room. Of course the one thing he came across as he casually walked into the meeting room was chaos. Not just any chaos. LOUD chaos. Loud enough to make the American wince and slam two hands over his ears due to the excruciating pain he could feel pulsing in his head. He tiredly walked over to his seat and plopped down into it, looking particularly miserable. Arthur seemed to notice this, and stopped his bickering with France to go check on the American. Not that this lowered the noise volume in the room by much, considering everyone else was still either fighting or talking.
"Y-you okay, Alfred...?" Arthur asked worriedly.
"Mnn..." Alfred groaned as he opened his eyes to look at the other. The room spun, and he definitely didn't think there should be two of everything. "M-me...?" he asked in a daze.
"Well I don't exactly see anyone else here looking as sick as you do. So yes, you." Arthur replied softly.
Alfred simply nodded. "I'm alr'ght..." he replied, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. "What're we going to do here today anyw'ys...?" he asked.
"Well, once everyone settles down we're probably assigning groups and jobs." England explained.
"Jobs...? Groups...?" Alfred asked as if he'd never heard the words before. "Oh, y'mean like... For the war and stuff? What group am I...?"
Arthur grinned at the other. "You're with me, Matthew and Antonio. We're going to go to China and maybe Russia to see just what's going on."
Alfred opened an eye and raised an eyebrow. "Antonio?" he asked. "Why is he in our group...?"
"That's just how things ended up..." Arthur stated. "Why, is something wrong with that...?"
"Well, no..." the American replied. "Its just... Out of all of us, he's so... Unfitting... If that makes any sense."
Arthur shrugged, smirking. "I guess. It's not like it matters though." he stated. "... Considering we already know our group..." the Englishman grabbed the American's hand and without another word pulled him up into a standing position. "Let's just go. Antonio, Matthew! Follow us!" he directed, motioning for those nations to follow him and the rather confused American he was dragging out the door. Antonio was he first out of both him and Matthew to catch up to the two men, the Canadian padding close behind.
"O-oh, England! What is it you need?" Antonio asked, walking alongside the British man.
"We're going to China." Arthur replied simply, grinning.
"Que...? China? N-now?" the Spanish man asked, a perplexed look on his face.
Alfred turned and gave Arthur a sharp glare. "You didn't even TELL them...?" he whispered loudly. "What if they don't wanna go?"
"G-go where...?" Matthew asked quietly, struggling to keep up with the other three nations.
"To China!" Alfred exclaimed. "Arthur are you INSANE? Ever since this war started there's been crazy border control! We can't fly there! What do you want us to do, walk?"
Arthur shrugged. "We can drive." he stated.
Alfred glared some more at the other. "No, we can't drive! I just told you, border control! W-we won't be allowed to cross any borders!"
"... Well we're still going to drive." Arthur replied. "It's the only thing we can do. We HAVE to go. Not going isn't an option..."
Alfred groaned. "Arthur sometimes you just... Annoy me to no end..."
"Back at you, Alfred." Arthur replied simply.
Alfred let out another annoyed groan, feeling his headache slowly growing worse. He blamed the other for that, even though it probably wasn't really Arthur's fault.
"S-so... Are we really going to China?" Matthew asked curiously.
"Yup. I wouldn't lie about that." Arthur stated. "You better pack well, because I have no clue what to expect, how long we'll be gone, or anything of the sort." he explained like it was nothing.
Alfred groaned. This was going to be a long trip...
REAL long.
Okay, if there was one thing Alfred hated, even MORE than packing a ton of clothes for a trip, and neatly at that due to England's expectations, it was sitting in a car for hours on end. Oh how he absolutely despised that. And when does it get worse? When you have a Spanish man in the small compact vehicle that won't shut up about ANYTHING, no matter how little of significance it had.
"Arthur..." the American groaned, obviously a bit twitchy and irritable. "Can't you drive faster...? ANY faster? Like, ALOT faster? Because I don't know how much longer I can take this..."
Arthur tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of the Jeep before speaking. "Alfred, please do keep in mind that this isn't a road trip. I wouldn't be surprised if this takes weeks actually. We are going to China, after all."
"Weeks? I can't sit in here for weeks!" Alfred exclaimed. "Come ON!"
Antonio smiled cheerily. "Oh come on now, it's not that bad! I remember one time Romano and I-"
Alfred immediately cut the other off with an icy glare, a glare that pretty much said it all. "Shut. Up." he stated sternly.
The brunette immediately shut his mouth, and stared down sullenly to the floor of the car at the other's obviously foul mood. "S-sorry..." he replied.
They drove in silence for a few more minutes, before Alfred burst out again. "Are we there NOW?" he asked.
"No." Arthur replied, keeping his composure rather well. "We're not."
"Then when?" Alfred whined. "Nnng, this is so annoying...!"
"A-Alfred..." Matthew began, turning to look at his brother from the passenger seat. "The amount of time this takes can't really be helped... Sorry..."
"I know…." Alfred mumbled, "I just can't see why we can't even try to make this more interesting…."
Arthur smirked. "What's more interesting than riding off-road in a Jeep in silence?" he asked sarcastically. "I find it to be great, the silence part being my favorite. Oh! Hey! That gives me a great idea Alfred! Maybe we should all play the silent game! How about that?"
Alfred raised an eyebrow. "I hate that game. It's stupid…" the blonde replied.
"That explains a lot about you…." Antonio mumbled quietly, smirking at his own joke but still partially hoping the other wouldn't hear him.
"I heard that dammit! What the hell is THAT supposed to mean?" the American exclaimed.
"What? Oh, nothing, nothing, don't worry about it." the Spanish man replied smoothly.
"I'll pull those damn green eyes out of your pretty little skull…." Alfred hissed, glaring at the other.
"Wow. That's harsh." Antonio replied. "Not that you'd do it, I know that."
"Both of you need to STOP." Arthur demanded. "Now. I'll kick you both out of this car in a heartbeat. Me and Matthew can manage perfectly on our own and I highly recommend you don't get on my bad side…."
"Fine, fine." Alfred replied, crossing his arms and giving Antonio a bad look. "So I guess I have a question…. There's no way we can drive from France to China. Are we going to stop somewhere at least?"
Arthur nodded. "Of course. Italy doesn't have a lot of border control, so we should be alright getting on a plane or something of the sort there."
"Oh, sweet, awesome!" Alfred exclaimed, brightening. "Can I fly it? Please, please, please?" he begged.
"Absolutely not!" Arthur replied. "I don't care what experience you have, or whatever, I'm not putting my life in your hands. Not."
"But Arthurrrrr!" the American whined. "I'll do good I promise! I won't kill anyone or anything, I wanna fly it! Otherwise I'll be SOOOOO bored…"
"No." Arthur replied. "I'm not allowing that and that's final."
Antonio nodded. "I'm in favor of that." he stated. "I don't really think you're capable of that Alfred, heh."
"You would say that…" Alfred mumbled in response to Spain's statement. "C'mon Matthew! Don't you think I should fly the plane? Don't youuu?"
Matthew laughed nervously, clearing his throat. "W-well I…. I mean I'm sure y-you could but… Eh, I think it'd be s-safer if you didn't…."
Alfred's shoulders slumped as he realized he was defeated. Well, shit. There went one fun opportunity. "You all suck…" he mumbled. "And that's official…"
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SO... Uhm... I beg you all yet again to leave me reviews. IT MAKES ME FEEL SO SPECIAL... I WAS FREAKING OUT WHEN I SAW I GOT THEM AND I DUNNO WHY! ^^;;;; Anyway... I don't know when the next chapter is coming, but please, give me a week AT MOST. MOST. I PROMISE I'LL TRY HARD. PLEASE LOVE ME I LOVE ALL OF YOU. Wow... I am SO desperate...