So sorry for the wait guys. Life literally came up and bit me so hard in the bloody arse its unbelievable! Have the rest of this week to finish my course off or I fail and ive been running round like crazy finishing off the paper work from my college placement before they break up for summer and typing the last peices of my work up. Hopefully most of it is sorted now. Ive had this mostly done for a while but with things getting kinda hetic with college I've not had the chance to reread, add the last peices and check on things.

Hope you like this chapter, it was fun to type even if I didn't know what I was doing towards the end! ;)

Tiilly does not own Hetalia, it belongs to the rightful owners.

(warning: noob fight scene towards end. lolwhut?)

"You... You wet yourself on me!"

The whole room stood in silence staring at America and Canada. The first back to crying and kicking his legs in the air while the latter stared at his now ruined suit.

"Like, oh my god! Did America actually wet himself?"

"What? Where! Let me see! This is awesome! America wets the bed!"

"Don't be mean!" thwack!

"Ow! Will you quit hitting me with that thing you crazy woman!"

Various other voices shout out making the nations in the room turn to the doors where the other nations looked to be returning from their break. Some of them openly gawking at the crying America, some laughing, others looking away awkwardly. One small group of returning nations had actually taken their phones out and taking pictures of the distressed America and an embarrassed Canada.

Canada blinks looking up and at the returning nations then America before finally to France. "Papa! Nous avons besoin pour le faire sortir d'ici!" (We need to get him out of here!)

At Frances mumbled "O-Qui." Canada runs to the door, a scowl on his face as he barrels through the nations in his way. Some of them letting out squeaks as they are shoved past by the normally peaceful (and invisible)Canadian, France following out the door.

Jogging to catch up France sighs looking at the American crying into Matthews' shirt. "Where are you taking him, Mathieu?"

"My room. I need to change out of these clothes and he needs something else to wear. He can use one of my shirts. That way it won't be too different from what he is wearing now. Also I can call Am-Alfred and tell him to bring England here." He lets out a sigh as America hiccups into his shirt again, both hands clenched tight in the material as he mumbles into it.

Looking towards Francis he smiles slightly. "I need you to make sure that he doesn't run off when I get changed." he grins. "Of course don't get to close or he may just hit you again." He then laughs as Francis mutters in French about clearly teaching the boy wrong and how a child should not use England's insults.

America groaned, this was too confusing, how could he –America- be standing here, when a little kid was running around calling himself America too? The way England reacted was weird as well. Why would Iggy react in such a way? And the look on Frances face seemed to show that he thought the child was America too.

Just. Plain. Weird.

Kinda like some of his Hollywood movies. Weird stuff to do with time travel, future and past and all that. Oh god! What if the 'little him' does something to wreck the past! He could send the whole world history askew!

'Okay! Okay... Do not think like that. I'm the hero so I can sort this out!'

Looking around the rain drenched street and pulling his hood up further he frowns.

'First thing first... Find Arthur. Now if I was a tea drinking, fairy seeing, embroidery loving, large eye browed Brit, where would I go?'

Just down the street a door opened and a group of men staggered out clinging onto each other and singing loudly as they wobbled down the pavement.

'Silly Brits... It's hardly past lunch and your dru- A PUB! Why didn't I think of it before?'

Grinning Alfred walks up to the pub door and pushes it open. A stale smell hitting his nostrils as the door opens and music blasts out. Walking in he pulls his hood down and looks around, noting that he is getting a few odd looks from the pub goers because of his suit. Throwing a smile he walks up to the bar and leans on it waiting for the girl behind it to look at him. When she turns and looks at him she blinks before smiling.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" a smirk.

"I was just wondering something. Have you seen a short, blonde haired guy with green eyes and these like huge ass eyebrows come in here?" he grins flashing a Hollywood smile at her.

The girl blinks at him "Hmm. I don't think we have had someone like that come here. Why you looking for a guy anyway? Why not just have a drink and stay out of the rain?" she smiles back.

"I really have to find him. He just sort of ran off. Thanks anyway!"

He jumps up from the stool towards the door, still smiling, when he steps out the pub he pulls his hood up and carries on down the street now scowling instead.

"This is stupid! I've been to seven different pubs and I still can't find him!" Growling his kicks a rubbish bin, denting the metal and wincing at the slight ache in his foot. "What is this place? A bloody maze of streets and pubs? Iggy could be anywhere…"

He runs a hand through his wet hair as the tune to 'Star Spangled Banner' plays from his pocket. Sighing Alfred pulls his phone out and answers.

"Hello!"

"Hey Alfred."

"Uh… Who is this?"

"Matthew… Canada…"

"Duude! Hey Mattie!"

"Y-yeah. Hey Alfred. Eh… Have you found Arthur yet? It's j-just that… Uh… America really wants him."

Alfred blinks as a crash his heard over the phone along with cursing in French and a squeal.

"America! Don't do that! Uh- Yeah so we kinda need Arthur."

Alfred pulls the phone from his ear as more French yelling is heard over the line before talking back into it and walking down the street again "Hey Mattie. Is everything all right over there? Where are you anyway?"

"What? Oh yeah. E-everything is fine. Just a… a broken TV. We're in my hotel room, had to come and get changed."

"Right. Well I'm looking round all the pubs, my heroic instincts are telling me Arthur would be in one somewhere. Do not know why this place has so many pubs though!"

"J-just hurry up then. I don't think Amer- Mon dieu!" A loud crash and yelling before the phone clicks off. Alfred stares at the phone before pocketing it with a shrug and walking down the street in the direction of the next pub.

"Oy! 'Nother one over 'ere!" Arthur waves his hand around in the air trying to attract the attention of the guy working behind the bar further down, simultaneously trying to not fall off the bar stool.

"Sir. I think maybe you have had enough. It is only three in the afternoon."

Sending the man a dangerous glare down the bar he smirks as he flinches and turns round to pull a bottle of the shelves behind him. 'Still got it. My pirate days really did come in handy for some things.' He grins as he pulls the bottle towards him and drinks from it as he watches the bar man scurry back down to the other side of the bar.

'Stupid day… Stupid meetings! How come these things always end in disaster somehow? Stupid bloody America!'

Tipping his head back and downing more of the drink he frowns as he goes off in more of a mental dialogue of 'things that are stupid'. He groans and lets his head fall onto the bar top with a small thud as the door to the pub opens again letting in a group of obnoxiously loud men in as well as some rain that had got heavier since he was last out in it.

The new arrivals make their way to the bar and continue to be excessively loud as they order their drinks and sit down. After ten straight minutes of yelling, punching each other and countless cheers over something, Arthur snarls and snaps his head up turning to the group.

"Will you bloody wankers shut up already!"

The whole room goes quite as they look between Arthur and the group of men who are silently glaring at each other.

The biggest man in the group snorts. "Well, looks like the little guy has a temper on him. Why don't you go run home and do some knitting? It's obvious a little pansy like you can't even hold your drink. You're falling out your chair just sitting there!"

"Pfft! I can 'old me drink just fine! Y' gits are just bloody loud. So shaddap." Absently flicking his hand at them with a dismissive gesture, not noticing how the pub is still quite and fearfully watching the group of people at the table and Arthur.

Turning to his friends, the man laughs and nudges the guy next to him in the ribs. "He thinks he can tell us what ta do." Before the whole groups starts laughing. The man then gets up making his way towards England with a scowl. Practically snarling the man leans down to Arthurs face, glaring.

"Ya' really think your so tough?"

"Yeah, actually, I t'ink I am. Nuff to take you bleeding lot of wankers on!" grinning, Arthur tips his head back drinking more from the bottle in his hand as he keeps an eye on the man in front of him, and just manages to hide a smirk as the mans face goes bright red and a vein twitches slightly in his left temple.

"Hah! We'll see how tough ya really are ya blooming little sissy!"

The man then thrusts a fist forwards towards Arthurs face, only for him to duck backwards and have the shot go right over his head. Snickering he drops from his chair and stumbles backwards as the man lunges again aiming for his gut.

This time side stepping a bar stool he uses his foot to scoot its neighbour in front of the attacking man causing him to trip. Arthur smirks as he leans on the bar top looking down at the man on the floor. "Pfft- y'cant even land a punch!"

The man grunts as he hits the floor, pushing himself up on his hands and knees he glares at Arthur, who continues to snicker to himself looking highly amused. Snarling the man looks to his friends who are frozen where they are sitting, staring wide eyed at him and Arthur. "Well! Are you lot gunna do anything?" at the yell they all jump up, one goes to help the man up from the floor, the other two making their way slowly towards England.

Arthur slides to one side, head tipped back as he finishes the bottle in his hands off and ducks a swinging fist to his face. Grinning dangerously he swings a fist forwards nailing one of the men in the gut causing him to double over and dodges another punch that would have hit his jaw.

The pub watches in silence as the fight continues, the other occupants backing up against the wall on the other side away from the fighting as the thugs continue to attack a rather drunk England who is still managing to dodge them except a few well placed punch or kicks. One of the groups was even out cold and slumped across a table where one of his friends had hit him on the head with a glass bottle aimed for Arthurs head.

Arthur wheezes as one kick gets him right in the stomach causing his insides to roll dangerously as he sways from slight nausea before he promptly gets nailed in the jaw but the groups leader making him stumble backwards into the bar.

"Well buggar. Y'lot definitely got a lot of bottle. Ya be lasting long enough. 'Cept that blooming idiot 'course." Grinning lopsidedly towards the unconscious man on the table.

Just as one of the men grabs a bar stool and raises it in the air above his head the doors burst open and a group of policemen run in.

Arthur kicks the man infront of him in the nuts casuing him to fall to the floor ad drop the stool in his head.

"Oh.. Bloody hell!"

Well... I have never ever written a fight scene before in my entire life. I hope it didn't suck to bad. And in my head I can totally see England doing some pretty badass drunk fighting if he really feels up to it. I mean he was a PIRATE at one point. (And a punk) and as I read in quite alot of fics, Matthew can get really pissed off at some things and goes into a 'hockey mode'. Just imagine he had a mild version of that when barging through the nations if you have too. I heard you just don't mess with Canadians and hockey...

You will have to excuse the translation for the french. I was taught French from year 7-9 in school but never really learnt it and dropped it at GCSE for difernt subjects. I had to use google translator and then asked a friend who took GCSE french to find out how to say that but translator is never prefect and my friend wasn't sure if she got the translation right. They were close enough for me :)

Never would have expected this to be so popular. I squeal everytime I get a story alert/favourite/review. So keep them coming please! Though I would like more reviews so I can see what you readers think I need to improve on or if I made any silly mistakes.

(Will get to Arthur caring for lil America very soon)