HELLO! LAST PART OF THE SUMMARY GUYS... no they don't hook up yet. I HOPE it wasn't really long for you guys, I just typed and typed for days and read it again, I hope I didn't miss some errors. Anyway, Support DENAME/AMEDEN and Hetalia:

Review please :)

The Belgian blizzard hit hard upon a magnificent mansion that was just at the mouth of a valley. Their bosses had their own meeting place in the middle of the city, which was a lot times bigger than this humble abode. But it was definitely more comfortable. Ah, just another peaceful meeting for the NATO members...or not.

"What the fuck, Denmark!" Shouted America.

Decades of peace and brotherhood had crossed a bump in the road. They had one mission to accomplish: peace. This lead them to have equal rankings and military training, which was the responsibility of America and he took it very seriously. But as time went on, it started falling apart. France left since he thought the power leaned too much to Alfred's and Arthur's side. It wasn't there fault that it seemed that way, it was just because they were more worried of a certain Russian's plans.

The fact that the power was 'leaned' towards his America...and...and...eyebrows, infuriated the Dane. Ok, it made him suspicious but it wasn't the only thing that made him angry. He can't stop worrying how all the stress was affecting the youngster. The sleepless nights, jumpiness, and the fact that he was constantly drinking with Russia was a red flag that he was going overboard. Russia was the enemy, after all. But he always waved it off, they were solid friends even in the Cold War. Plus, they even went out to drinks when they had problems, it would be normal if the very same problems weren't caused by one another. Now he saw what the others saw, the arrogant and careless nation that everybody thought he was.

Now here they were. Arguing, the year of 1983. "Well, it's pretty simple. You have too much blood going to your head that it's inflating...like a balloon. It doesn't feel like we're all equals anymore, it feels like America and the etcetera gang." The Dane huffed.

"It's not about that. It's about you, suddenly opposing our new policies" America walked forward, looking at the taller European. Those Icey-blues shined with anger and passion.

"Wasn't I clear? I'm saying that our policies...are YOUR POLICIES! Not ours, you are too self-centered...running the show and tossing us around like yesterday's bagel! If this was a brotherhood, you should've taken my request...adjust for others, right?" He smirked sarcastically. "Also, you even hang out with the enemy!"

"He is still my friend, a friend is a friend. like all of you. our bosses hate each other, not us..." America tried his best to hold his anger at bay. He didn't know how things got messed up between him and the Dane. It just seemed like the more his nation grew, the bigger the wedge was growing. His heart was devastated, he never felt so torn between love and anger. A part of him was just doing this since he feared for the safety of everyone, especially those dearest to him...including the presently not-so-lovable Dane.

"Now what? Ya love that guy?" The Dane puffed his chest and cheeks, huffing and scowling trying to keep himself from having a panic attack. He gave America a glance before staring at the ground.

America was taken aback. He doesn't need this drama now. Trying to keep his heart from breaking, he sighed. His eyes started to water but something in him snapped.

"I knew, deep inside me, that all of you think I'm just a dipshit wannabe..." He trailed off clenching his fist. All the countries present were silent. "I know that you think I'm stupid and blunt and I know, in this room, not even one of you can say right in my face that you never hated me." He glared at the other countries. All of them squirmed in their seats and tried their best not to look, except for Denmark. "Has it occurred to anyone of you that I'm here for the same reasons you're all here...peace...freedom. I don't want another war." He stared right into Denmark's soul, engulfing him in his storm-stricken blue eyes, that made the brave Viking shiver.

"You think I came here for some attention? You think that I've been playing around this whole time? I was trying to convince Ivan to stop." He wasn't his usual cheery self, but the emotions just poured out of him. "I know I'm a mess! But if you think that I did this for my own benefit, then you're wrong as hell. You were the ones who wanted my military training and if it comes across that I have all the power it's because I'm the one in direct conflict with the bastard. I'd rather keep it that way than let him start a siege in Northern Europe." He looked at the other nations then back to the Dane, who was surprised to say the least. He grabbed the papers concerning their new policies. "This is the tenth time I rewrote this, I tried my best to make it beneficial to all of us, but I see now that you think that the only thing in my mind was myself when I wrote this." He crumpled the paper. "I'm sorry to tell you, but I'm not some self-centered brat that you think I am" he started walking away. "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer." He looked back at his 'comrades' "don't force me to keep you...closer, Bagel Brain." He walked towards Belgium.

"Say, Bel, where's your boxing ring around here?" He still gave a cold stairs.

"It's down past the hall to the left" she answered, trying her best to smile. He gave her a forced smile before heading out to the hall.

"I'm going outside" said the Dane flatly. Just like that the meeting was over...and they haven't eaten Belgium's waffles yet.

The gym was dimly lit and in the center was an old looking boxing ring. In the middle of the sweat stained floors were the two North American brothers, their bare torsos exposed in the humid room. Their bodies shined with a layer of sweat that playfully raced one another from their unbelievably toned chest down their perfectly carved abs. The tanner of the two had bandages wrapped around his bleeding knuckles, while the paler Canadian had focus pads. He knew his brother was angry, confused, and hurt...it was kind of a twin thing.

"Faster." Said his brother so he did. Making his actions faster than before. Block. Block. Jab. Jab.

"Harder." Making his actions more unpredictable and less readable. Swipe. Jab. Block. Jab. Swipe.

"Damn it, Mattie! You're not giving it your all" he huffed angrily. With that the Canadian moved quicker now boxing his brother, knocking him to the ground. The American breathed heavily, his messy hair covered his blue eyes. His brother moved in closer, seating right next to him. He watched as silent tears went down the exhausted American's face.

"What's wrong...with me? Do people really think of me like that?" Sobbed the younger twin, locking his watery blue eyes onto his brother's royal purple.

"They don't hate you...that much" he corrected his answer. "They just have to know you better, plus they don't know the how much the stress in getting to you" he patted his brother's back.

"What about...h-him?" Asked the sobbing nation about Denmark. The Canadian placed his fingers on his chin and thought of an answer. "We know old Tweety has been neutral for 200 years...it's probably just shock, you know? Plus he does have the reputation of being...reluctant" he cupped his brother by the cheeks. "But I think it's for the best not to go see him for awhile."

"B-bu-". Canada placed a finger on top of his brothers mouth. "No buts...eh? I'll go get us some waffles." The Canadian playfully punched America's shoulder and America did the same, giving a weak smile.

The blizzard quelled a bit, it's winds roared with less anger and the snow did not fall as hard. The Dane was out in the woods, his top stripped and discarded. It showed the marvelously trained and taut body that could only be achieved by centuries of training. His body was huge and had a bit of hair in his forearms, chest, and stomach being Northern European after all. But it looked almost invisible due to his light blonde genes. He had scars all over his body and the largest one ran across his back. He swung his axe hard on a tree, chopping it in one swoop. This was the tenth tree. He could probably ask Sve to make furniture later, but now he was just full of rage. Roaring on the top of his lungs, he started chopping down more trees. Until he couldn't chop down another. His body was hot, even the cold snow couldn't change that. He fell to the ground exhausted.

"You could've eased up a bit" said the Norwegian. He dragged his ass to fellow him since he could feel that this was different than any fit the Dane made before. He was answered by groans, grumbles, and pants. The Dane pushed himself off the ground, leaning of a tree for support.

"What the fuck was I supposed to do? The parliament wanted other things...and I know America's head is getting bigger" he scowled. Only America could bring the happiest nation in the world to scowl. No matter how much he made him worry, irritated and now enraged, he couldn't stop loving him.

"Keep telling yourself that. You jealous of Russia now?" The Norwegian crossed his arm. "No." Denmark rested his chin on his knees, leaning against the tree behind. "England?" "No." Norway chuckled coldly. "I know why, your perfect image of sweet America is ruined, right?" With that said, Denmark thrust himself forward lifting his Scandinavian brother by the collar. "Troll?" His brazen eyes could've made holes in a concrete wall. Being the calmer one, he gripped his brother's hand tightly almost crushing it till Matthias let go.

"He didn't have to tell me. Listen, I know that recently America has become...bolder. But if you ask me, it's all a mask like how you constantly lie about not being only. Think of it much like a child brought into a new school. Some will close up and shy away. On the other hand, there are some kids who want to be accepted so badly that they act a role...in America's case the unexpected bully. But, you have your own set of problems...you knew I would follow you, didn't you?"

The sulking nation, sat back to the snow, trying his best to keep a straight face, he didn't want Norway to see him crying. He didn't know that he was that transparent, was he really that readable to the Norwegian? "I don't know wh-w-what yo-ou're tal-talkin' about." He stuttered.

"Oh well, fair warning, this will embarrass you to your core. You've always had this disease, this compulsion to use other's to get what you want, you always found ways to be on top because of that. You made the Kalmar union, where you were the king's favorite. And now, oh great king of Scandinavia" sarcastically curtsying. "I will explain how this all fits. The way you manipulate us...doesn't only include your brawn or charisma...it also involves those waterworks starting in your eyes. The plan was...go out. Make me follow you. Supposedly, make me pity you. I would then talk to America, then he'd talk to you. You'd try to swoon him over, which never works. Then you'll be back to square one, friends. You'll never stop bugging me or anyone else, until you get him. You always expect us to give you everything on a silver platter. Am I right?" He smirked coldly at his Danish brother. Some people thought he was too hard on the Dane but he only has best interest for him. He just needs to be polished, is all.

"Was I that readable?" He asked angrily. "Yup. I think you just need some time to think about your actions. You hurt him bad. So, I banned you to see America until further notice." He turned around and started walking away.

"He's not serous...right?" The Dane asked aloud as his bear chest rose and fell.

The year was 1998. A few years back a change in bosses, allowed peace to gradually prevail. No one else could be happier than Russia, this means he could hang out with America with no one raising a gun or at the very least an eyebrow. He was happy, ever since the dissolution of the Soviet Union he no longer had friends except for Alfred. He heard Denmark has not set a finger on his friend...he wonders why. It's pretty obvious that they like each other, but the Russian shrugged it off, he could help them later. He looked to his side to see his American friend slumped over his seat, exhausted. The Russian started poking on his shoulder.

"Stop it,IVAN!" He shouted, swatting the poking hand. Russia frowned as he heard his name being called out. As he saw his friend's slumped posture, he couldn't help but pinch his friends rumored belly fat.

"OW! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" yelped the pained American. On the other hand, the Russian was shocked to discover that he was not pinching on flabby stomach fat, but tight skin over a taut bump of muscle. Ignoring his friend's scream, he pinch harder and twisted in disbelief. "Why are you still doing it, Ivan?" He asked harshly when the Russian finally decided to let go.

"where's all your…belly fat?" asked Russia with an innocent frown.

"What do you mean 'belly fat'?" America sighed while he massaged the stinging skin beneath his shirt. He suddenly smirked mischievously at his friend before inching closer and filling his hands with the Russians chubby cheeks.

"look at all the silly faces, your face can do!" chuckled the blonde, pulling his friend's cheeks to unimaginable lengths that you could actually hear it being stretched. With frowning eyes, Russia flailed his arms trying to beat the America, who was behind him. Well he succeeded, pressing his huge hand on America's face. Alfred stumbled back.

"Damn. That's far worse." He stood up rolling his sleeves then went to tackling Russia. The feud was full of comical punches and name calling. They were nerd-slapping and tugging each other's hair. Then it became more violent when Russia tried head-locking him to submission.

"QUIET! YOU TWO, VE ARE IN A MEETING, NOT A STUPID BOXING RING!" yelled an angry German who pulled them apart by the ears, both nations started flailing in pain. They locked eyes as they were seated and rubbed their stinging-red ears. They chuckled for a moment before quieting down.

On the other side of the room, unbeknownst to the two friends, was a crimson-re faced Dane who had steam coming out of his ears. He was tense, so tense that a metal bar would bend when you try to hit him and then he'll break your bones. He radiated so much jealously that the people around him couldn't help but sweat.

He stood up. "I can't take it anymore!" He yelled on the top of his lungs. Everybody looked at him confusingly, even America and Russia. Suddenly, he was redder in embarrassment than anger. He felt all their eyes melting his soul and pride. He faked his unawareness, placing his hands over his head. "May, I please be excuse, I really need to pee" He smiled, hiding his embarrassment pretty well.

"You may, Denmark." The German answered confusingly. "O~kay dude!" Denmark smiled as he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. He looked to his sides. Scoping the hall making sure it was empty. When he was sure the coast was clear, he gave a deep and long sigh. 'I've never been humiliated this humiliated since…um never' he shagged his shoulders and dragged his axe onto the carpeted floor. Well, he really did need to pee, anyway. 'Stupid Russia' he kicked an imaginary stone before standing still by the door of the comfort room 'Stupid America'. He pivoted around his heel and made his way inside the room.

He placed himself in front of the urinal nearest to the whole-body mirror. He took in the ambience until he noticed Rick Astley's "Never Gonna give you up". He flinched upon realizing the song. Then he jiggled Copenhagen and carefully pushed it back and fixed his pants. He headed towards the faucet and cleaned his hand. Just then, light grey smoke caressed his nose. '...Smoke?'

Only one person came to his mind. He turned around and saw his Dutch friend standing by the door with his pipe on his mouth as he started inhaling and exhaling smoke. "Oh, Netherlands, it's just you, buddy!" He grinned. The Dutch only grumbled, seemingly blocking the doorway. The Dane, however, was oblivious. "Dude, want me to wait for you while you do a number 1?" The Dutch only groaned. "Um…ah, a number 2, then?" Denmark added. "I am not going number 1 or 2…" He took his pipe away, giving one last puff to the other blonde's face. " I WANT You" His eyes were wide open, giving Netherlands those ice-blue eyes, his mouth agape and his face red as ever. Matthias placed his axe in front of him, protectively. "D-due, it was just a one-night stand, we were high on d-drugs and beer…you d-don't wanna do this, right?" He tried escaping the lustful Dutch, only to be stuck in the corner of the room.

"No, you see…I want you" he moved closer, his hot breath escaping to Denmark's flush neck. "I love how you're mouth felt in my mouth, my dick…" He started unbuttoning Matthias's clothes "How your tongue knew where my happy button was" with his scarred hard chest exposed, Denmark started to feel the warm breath on his torso. "…how your dick felt…" Netherland's hand grabbed his dick tightly through the jeans, while he caressed the glorious abs in front of him. "…inside me" Denmark couldn't lie, he hasn't cum in months. The whole…awkward moments with America made him too frustrated to even start jacking off. The American kept telling him that they were friends, but it didn't feel like it.

He groaned when a pair of masculine lips clashed with his own. He closed his eyes, savoring the smoky…salty and savory flavor of the Dutch's lips. Before he knew it, lust took over. The Dane forcibly grabbed the smoker's thighs and swung them across his hips, flipping their positions so that his friend was cornered.

He could feel the Dutch whine through his mouth and moan like the needy bitch he was in bed. When suddenly '…Don't do this Matthias…' a sickly sweet voice urged him to step, it sounded like his voice. 'STOP' the voice demanded. He obediently pulled away from the kiss, leaving a very angry Dutch.

"What the fuck?" said the Dutch. Denmark didn't bother, he fixed his disheveled clothes and grabbed his axe. "I don't want this. I've already have someone in mind…I don't care how long it takes or how pent up my nuts are going to be…I only want… him." Denmark allowed his breathing to even out before heading out, leaving behind a still very horny Dutch he jerked himself off chanting " hot hot hot."

The Dutch groaned loudly as his cream spurted over the cold tiles. He was surprise that the Dane was actually looking for a committed relationship… "What a perfect waste of a muscle toy" he muttered loudly as he cleaned himself up and left the room.

America opened the door of one of the cubicle. He admits it being a hot scene, but what tugged his heart was the Dane's loyalty. He hated how distant they were recently, they did talk but even small talk would end up in excuses to leave. He missed how the Dane smile and how his heart would pound in love…not guilt. He gripped his jacket. "Damn is Norway lucky" he assumed the Dane's speech was for him. "But I won't give up!" flames of zeal were behind him and a secretive Hungarian capturing everything with her Video Camera and regular Camera.

"So…was my "The Little Mermaid" good enough for the country who made it?" quizzed America with a very happy demeanor that made him so nervous. Maybe he was pushing too hard, maybe Denmark didn't want to talk to him in the first place. Maybe he was just avoiding him this full time.

On the other hand, Denmark blushed mentally. He was flustered yet excited that he could get the young American to talk to him again. He smiled warmly. "Well, I am happy that it faired very well with the reviews and I really did like the ending." He turned around hiding his smug face and had one hand on his hips and another under his chin. "But nothing, beats the original!" he looked back to see a pouting American.

"Let's see…I made the story more dramatic…and at least, she got the boy in the end… 'daughters of air'…really, dude?" The Dane flushed and tensed up, standing on his toes. "W-well it wasn't suppose to be like that…she was just suppose to die in the end"

"My point exactly…It's a family movie…When I make those feel-good movies, it just makes me happy that the kids enjoy it. Ya know?" He smiled nostalgically at the window pane. "The best part was teaching them how to dream, to be free, and to never stop believing in your dreams." He spread his arms widely. "And with those winning combinations, you can achieve anything." The Dane smiled and chuckled.

" . It was great. So, what about the one about the Russian Duchess?" asked Denmark. America frowned a bit. "He loved it actually, but he was afraid that a lot of Russians would take it as an offensive remark on their culture. It's just wishful thinking, you know? The word I hate the most is 'don't' and 'can't' . He even had to put a "Not really a history flick" sticker on it just to keep his countrymen from kicking my ass." Denmark placed his arm over his crush's shoulder and looked away, blushing.

"Wanna drink…for old time's sake?" Matthias gave a small smirk

America gave him a small nod "Sure, dude."

Fire. Smoke. Ashes. Debris.

Screams. Coughs. Shouts. Tears.

It was all America could see. His innocent countrymen dying one by one, some suffocating, others crushed. Their dead bodies smashed and pinned, burned or suffocated. America could feel al their pain, multiplied by ten as he felt their regrets, their pain, their loss. He then felt another sting, sharper this time and again felt the new wave of fire, smoke, and death, to think that he was actually just waking up in his New York apartment. Suddenly, the slender fingers of unconsciousness curled deep inside his mind, wiping out all reason to stay awake, lulled by the symphony of wails.

'Where the hell am I?'

The American groggily felt his surroundings with his eyes closed. He could feel the warm mattress and hear the constant beeping of the heart monitor. He opened his eyes only to be met by the countless ocean of eyes owned by his fellow nations, the closest being his Canadian brother.

"…the world trade center…how many?" the American asked quickly, trying to keep a straight face. Everybody looked away. "…We don't know yet" answered his former guardian.

"We don't know how it happened; all we know is that it was planned by middle-Eastern terrorists" added the English man, answering the question the young nation was about to ask. In spite of his distraught state, he still gave a very weak smile.

"A-At least…my NATO bros are here… right?" He chuckled softly, only to be greeted by silence. He looked around seeing all twenty-seven of them, including his brother and guardian, scoot backwards; their eyes glued onto the white floor. Right there, he did not only feel the pain of his people who have died and their families but also the pain of betrayal. He couldn't believe how stupid he was. He remembered the pact of NATO, if one was screwed, all of them were. They promised military actions which were later changed to any other action, just so as to help their comrade. But now, that single pact, the pact that America cherished deeply, the pact that made him feel less alone was gone.

He couldn't blame them; it was a big promise to keep. They don't want more people to die. NATO, for the most part, was created for peace. He sat up and pulled off the wires and needles that were connected to him.

"Bro…I think you shouldn't…" his Canadian brother was cut off. He started walking towards the door, the whole world made way for him.

*Creak~* *LOCK*

Alfred pressed his back against the close door before exhaling deeply. He started to wander through the corridors of the darkly-lit hospital. He calmly passed waves of nurses, paramedics, and doctors that were all over the place. 'It is a hospital' he face-palmed. Just then, he looked at the TV in the main lobby. He saw the fire, the collapsed building, everything he could not take it anymore. He dashed to find somewhere he could be alone…he wiped his eyes the best he could, trying to keep anyone from seeing his tears. He finally stopped somewhere near the fire exit, slumping down as he leaned against the wall. He forgot he had his cell phone with him, with a quick glance, he saw he had 521 missed calls and 1342 messages. He was definitely 'popular' . what caught his attention was a text that was sent only seconds ago.

'Amerika, my boss will support you if you ever wage war, da?'

He chuckled softly again, thinking how ironic it was that Russia wanted to help. He then looked up locking eyes with a lighter blonde, his ice-blue eyes were full of pity masked by a sheet of coldness. He slumped down next to him and handed out what looked like Starbucks…really?

"T-thanks" America grabbed the cup, blowing at the opening, still not looking away at…nothing. The Dane wanted to hug him or at least assure them that the people responsible for this would get their ass kicked so damn hard. He could feel himself grinding his teeth painfully, every fiber in his body was boiling in anger. He was not only angry because his America was sad, he was angry for the people who died for nothing. He couldn't contain himself, he wanted to go out right now and chop those terrorists. But just then, he felt America push against his arm, inching closer to him. He placed his arm over the younger nation protectively. He knew for the American it was comfort…but doing stuff like this made him feel so gooey inside. He immediately pushed it away since it wasn't even the right time for that.

"I hope, you don't mind" whispered Alfred, still looking at nothing.

"O-of course not, even awesome people need… um whatever this is…" Denmark blushed.

"But, I don't feel awesome. I feel like shit, I wasn't even able to stop this" the younger nation pushed closer, gripping his coffee tighter. His eyes were teary.

"Don't say shit like that! Listen, rascal! I, Matthias Densen AKA the Kingdom of Denmark, am going to kick their burnt asses!" he winked at America. Those words made Alfred's eyes twinkle with a bit of hope and then he smiled.

"What about your boss?" He asked. Denmark gave him a smirk "Nothing a little Danish charisma won't fix."

They laughed louder, before just enjoying the silence… talking in the magnitude of the problem

…At least with each other… they could conquer this, no doubt

'…In God we trust'

'…God's help, the people's love, Denmark's strength'

1982-ish : Footnote era, Denmark and America had serious arguments about Denmark's opposition towards a policy about nuclear weapons...it wasn't explained that well and somehow I can't find any other sources for it.

*Yup, north american brothers...boxing *nose bleed*

*Denmark chopping down trees*nose bleed*

-Theory: Denmark maybe the oldest Nordic, even though he aged differently. He, Norway, and Sweden are about two thousand years old officially, but the oldest traces of humans in Denmark was 12,500 years old. In Norway, it was 12,000. In Sweden, It was between 9,000-12,000.

*I wanted to make Denmark a bit more tactical and calculating.

1991- Dissolution of Soviet Union. The cold war ended much earlier, due to reform in Russia. although, they still playfully argue.

*Netherlands...I don't know, I just liked him.

"The little Mermaid" was originally written by Hans Christian Andersen. It was a lot different from the movie. The mermaid had no name...it hurts when she was walking, the sea witch didn't have any plan to marry the prince, a girl from the temple was confused in saving the prince, which led to her death because the deal was she was going to die if the prince marries someone else, which he did. She then turned to sea foam and became a 'daughter of the air' who will do good deeds until she goes to heaven. ^^

*for me it's weird don't you? Even some scholars think the ending was...incoherent?

Anyway, Anastasia, which was released after the dissolution, was favored by most Russians and even the distributors, but not some people who were Russian Orthodox. They said that it was offensive and inaccurate. Even though, it was labeled by the Russian distributors to be 'not historically accurate' and was just a movie to be enjoyed.

*geez a lot of people have problems when America makes a movie based on another culture, I mean he does try his best right. He just has this quirk in putting American humor to it...and most of his cartoons were just for wishful thinking and for happy endings..and all the stuff America said.

2001- 9/11. members of NATO did not react. Russia wants to help America. Denmark was very supportive of America's decisions later on

ENJOY! The real story is coming up... :D

UPDATE(june 7, 2013) I totally forgot to seperate the stories...it looks so messy. My apologies