Meeting the brothers.

France had just burst through the bathroom door, panicking and declaring that Scotland had gone missing. Normally this wouldn't be a problem except for the fact Scotland was badly injured and probably wasn't in a good state for making wise decisions or even walking very far. England actually didn't believe his ears at first.

"What did you say?"

"L'Ecosse is gone! Mon cher is missing!"

America didn't really know how to react. Sure he didn't like the violent red haired nation but he didn't want anything bad to happen to him. Heroes were meant to protect people, not wish ill fortune on them. He knew he would feel guilty too if something bad did happen to him. It was his fault Scotland was injured in the first place.

"Missing? Scotland can't be missing. Frog face did you check the stalls?"

"OUI!" France sounded impatient and very worried. The barman spoke up.

"There is no way out of the bathroom. There is only one small window and it has a padlock."

"He broke ze padlock!" England paled. He tried to stand up, only to groan in pain and clutch his stomach. America stood up to support him.

"America you git. Put me down! You're injured too."

"Yeah but I'm stronger than you." The American grinned at the irritated face England had on after being reminded of America's greater strength. His face returned to his concern expression when he remembered the situation. The two countries leaned on each other and hobbled to the bathroom to check if France was telling the truth. The bathroom was a mess. Scotland had left the tap on and the floor was a light pink with blood and water. A boot mark was on the wall from where he had kicked it. In the corner of the bathroom was the remains of a padlock and the window was jarred open, showing that Scotland had left through the window. England turned off the tap.

"Let's not panic." France rolled his eyes but still sounded panicked.

"Angleterre, your brother iz bleeding heavily and we have no idea where he iz!"

"But he couldn't have gotten far. It's still bright outside so it should be easy to find someone who has seen him. Don't worry. We will find him in under 15 minutes."

France nodded and rushed out of the door and into the street to question confused passing English people. England and America followed him slowly, still both limping from being beaten up by Scotland. They joined in the search for someone who had seen Scotland, though most people were scared off by the load of blood on America and the bandages on both of them. After 10 minutes, France came screaming and crying over to England and America. England tried to shake off the yelling Frenchman who clung desperately to his waist.

"THAT HURTS YOU WANKER! KEEP OFF! WHAT ARE YOU BLUBBERING ABOUT?" France sniffed and looked up.

"L'Ecosse…. He got in ze tazi…"

"A taxi?"

"Oui! Now mon L'Ecosse could be anywhere!" England and America looked stunned. This was unexpected. It was impossible to know where the scarlet haired nation had ran off to now. England pulled out his phone which he kept on his person at all times. (Yeah – even in his PJs) He tapped in a number and held it up to his ear.

"Hello? North Ireland. It's me England."

Seconds later he removed it from his ear and re typed the number mumbling something along the lines of. "That bastard! I can't believe he hanged up!" He waited for a couple of seconds before yelling into the phone.

"Don't hang up! Hear me out!" He listened and looked relieved as Ireland didn't hang up.

"Ummm… Well… Scotland has disappeared and I was wondering if you could lend a hand?..." England listened to North Ireland.

"It's bad this time because he is bleeding heavily and we don't know where he is!" He listens again and shuffled his foot uncomfortably when he heard whatever North Ireland said.

"It was sort of my fault… but I wasn't the one was fought him though!" He added quickly. He listened to North Ireland's reply again.

"It was America…" He almost dropped the phone when he heard a huge angry scream through the small device. He replaced it against his ear again.

"I know, I know. I KNOW! But its worst than that! Do you know what date it is today?" He paused and listened to North Ireland's answer. He listened for a long time for it seems like Ireland wasn't answering.

"Are you still there?..." More silence….

"North Ireland?..." England was starting to look worried about his brother's reaction or rather lack of reaction and he already looked very concern for his missing brother. Suddenly a voice came over the phone and England listened intently. He looked really surprised and shocked at whatever the other nation said. Suddenly North Ireland hung up again.

"Yo Dude. So what did umm… North Ireland?... say to you?" England still had his phone to his ear.

"Oh. He said he would help me." America grinned.

"That's good, right!"

"Right…." America frowned at the other's blonde sudden discomfort. North Ireland had obviously said something else along with the 'willing to help' part. France looked grave again as he seemed to have a vague idea to what the Irish man had said. America pouted again. He hated not knowing what was going on.

A couple of hours later and France had driven England and America to meet North Ireland at Scotland's border. They guessed that if Scotland got a taxi to any where it would be to Scotland. He probably didn't want to see anyone at the moment and was likely hiding somewhere in his own country. The problem is knowing where. France pulled up his Renaults to the meeting place, which was a small diner, and was surprised when he saw a Toyota Avensis along side North Ireland's motor cycle. He stepped out and saw two reddish brown haired men and a slightly shorter light brown haired man standing in between them uncomfortably as they scowled at each other. They turned to look at France as he approached them. The younger looking auburn waved happily.

"Hey there Francey!" while the older one shot a glare at him.

"Nord Irlande! L'Irlande! Et petit Pays de Galles!" America and England helped each other out of the car.

"Whoa Dude! There are three North Irelands?" (America was in the car when France greeted them so he didn't hear their names) England sighed and rolled his eyes, flinching. The three brother noticed England and America behind France and surge pass the Frenchman. Ireland reached there first and punched England in the jaw. England gave him the finger, having no problem standing up to Ireland today it seems. North Ireland followed behind him and grabbed Ireland's fist before it whacked England again.

"Nae fair brother! I wannae hit Iggy first!" He pouted like a little child. Wales stood silently behind both of them, not joining in properly. America shouted out.

"Hey Dude! You can't just hit an injured guy like that!" All three glared full forced with bright green eyes. North Ireland released Ireland's fist and hit America, much to his surprise. Wales sighed. France stepped in to introduce them and stop the potential fight.

"L'Amerique. Zis iz L'Irlande, Nord Irlande et Pays de Galles." He pointed to each of the men in turn, naming them. England nodded recognising his brothers and Ireland's eyebrow twitched irritated. North Ireland smiled politely and Wales just had a slightly bored look on his face. America glared at them, rubbing his cheek.

"Dude! Why did you hit me?" North Ireland just frowned a little at the question.

"Because of ya, our beloved older brother is missing." Ireland nodded in agreement.

"Aye. It's yer fault tha this happened!"

"And England's fault too…" Wales added quietly.

America didn't argue back. England mumbled something under his breath. "Sorry. What did you say Dude?"

"I said… I only phoned North Ireland for help…." North Ireland wrapped his arms tightly around Wales and Ireland, pulling them together, and smiled sweetly.

"How could I leave my braw brothers out of ta loop? I gave a cry to Ireland and picked up Wales just after I hung up." North Ireland seemed to be the happy go lucky type who didn't really think things through. He smiled a lot and was rather friendly with everyone. Ireland nodded in agreement, prying North Ireland's arm off of his shoulder annoyed.

"Yes. He also told us why this situation was so serious." He looked at America, clearly blaming him. He seemed to not like being touched by his younger brother. Wales didn't really speak much. France sounded serious suddenly.

"So ze don't need to explain anything. C'est bien. We should split up into trois teams since we have trois vehicles. We need to also pick ze likely locations for L'Ecosse to go to." Ireland looked at France slightly impressed but still annoyed looking.

"For once ta pervert makes a tad of sense." North Ireland pouted.

"Donnae call Francy perverse…." Wales interjected in a small voice.

"Technically he is a pervert North Ireland but that's not important at the moment." France chuckled.

"Ohohohoho. You brothers never change!" America looked at them curiously.

"So you guys and Scotland and England are all one country?" Ireland huffed and turned red in the face. Wales spoke up before Ireland lost his temper and did something rash. He almost glared at America and the blonde noticed that the country's eyes were a bright turquoise green. He looked at the Irish men's eyes and realise that both of their eyes were the same colour; a forest green, darker than England's light green eyes and duller than Scotland's emerald eyes.

"Nae. Actually only me, North Ireland and Scotland are a part of Britain along with England…. Ireland is independent."

"So Ireland isn't in the UK? Why?" England paled slightly, noticing the bad direction of conversation.

"Shut up wanker before you get yourself beaten up again!" He sounded really weak and tired. America decided to listen to him though he frowned at England's weak voice. North Ireland wrapped both of his arms around Ireland's neck and hugged him.

"Come on Broth! Just ignore him! Think of Scotty!" Ireland huffed irritated and shook off his younger brother. He seemed to have lost his anger though and was just his regular mildly annoyed self again.

Wales seemed to be the most reasonable of the brothers. "I think we should check his home first. Once there we canne discuss where to search next."

"I agree Wales." England pushed himself up so he could sound more authorative despite the added discomfort from his bruises. "We should all go there first. Ireland, you can take Wales on the back of your motor cycle. North Ireland can take America and France will drive me." Ireland glared at England hatefully and yelled.

"I nae under yer control anymore! Ye cannae boss me around!" It seems that England had touched a trigger. North Ireland patted him on the shoulder, instead of just hugging him like his regular self. He spoke in a quiet comforting voice.

"It's braw, it's braw… He annae giving ye orders…." Ireland tsked and turned away from England and America angrily, stomping a couple of feet away. North Ireland sighed. "Cheers England." He said sarcastically as he turned around to try and comfort his brother. Wales looked at England.

"England…." He sounded really disappointed in him. America was confused by what had set Ireland off like that. Was it because England was ordering him around? England frowned and stood straighter, before grabbing his stomach in pain.

"Ireland. This is no time to throw a temper tantrum. Wales, don't look at me like that!" France stood in between them.

"You deux can work out your problem after we find L'Ecosse! Mon cher is still missing!" Ireland spoke loudly.

"Donnae call him 'my dear', pervert!" North Ireland laughed a bit as Ireland got over about England's previous orders. France sighed. Ireland kept getting angry with England and annoyed with North Ireland and America. Plus all three seemed angry at both America and England for what had happened with Scotland. France knew that the two Irish men wanted to punch America and England more but resisted so they could focus on helping Scotland. But somehow they kept getting distracted. France was becoming impatient. It felt like they were making slow process in even just beginning to search for Scotland.

"Oui. Oui. We zhall split up according to ze L'Angleterre's suggestionz as it iz ze simpliest. Oui L'Irlande?" He huffed loudly and angrily, refusing to face England. North Ireland just turned back to face them.

"He agrees."

"Don't decide for me!"

"But you do."

"Shut up!"

"Potatoe sucker!"

"Guiness guzzler!" They scowled at each other.

"Ireland, North Ireland. Stop it. We need to find Alba." His voice was really quiet, like Canada's. He stepped forward for the first time. "Fighting will nae get us anay where." America raised his free hand.

"America?"

"Who is Alba? I thought we were looking for Scotland." Everyone face palmed.

"Edjit American…" Ireland muttered under his breath. North Ireland perked up from his mood with Ireland.

"It's Scottie's far-ainm! His nickname."

"Oh…. Alba…" He considered it carefully, thinking about Scotland's nickname. It sounded weird to him. England sighed.

"Right. Let's go. It's a few hour drive to Scotland's house."

(A/N - Ah the other brothers finally appear. Ireland is not part of the UK but he and Scotland have a close relationship so he dicided to help out, despite not getting along with England and sometimes North Ireland.

Basic personalities is Wales is quiet and reasonable (like Canada.) but he doesn't really get on with any of his brother except for Scotland and sometimes North Ireland. He feels really uncomfortable around France because France is a pervert. He prefers to be by his self. He rather not talk to England if he can help it. Hates being mistaken for England cause the two like similar. His drinking ability is the same as England's. He can't drink much before he is flat on the floor. He acts like drunk England when he drinks too.

North Ireland is the cheery type. He is nearly always smiling and loves to hug his brothers. He always gets into petty fights with Ireland. His personality takes a 180 when he drinks. He becomes very violent and angry and it usually takes Scotland to stop his rampage. He doesn't mind being with England but if Scotland and England are having a arguemtn, he will take Scotland's side. Takes a lot to get him drunk but the transformation is almost instant. It only takes a tablespoon of beer to take him from sober to drunk if he has drank alot before. Has a big mouth and is lousy at keeping secrets or paying attention.

Ireland is quite moody and scowls alot. He really doesn't like England but loves his older brother. He doesn't mind Wales and argues often with North Ireland but mainly for the sake of argueing. Avoids Engand like the plague. His drunk self is like North Ireland's in the fact, he becomes even more violent and moody. His transformatoin is less noticable though.

This is how I imagined how the brothers would look. I didn't draw it btw. I wish I did but I didn't.

h t t p : / / 2 5 . m e d i a . t u m b l r . c o m / t u m b l r _ l e q e s 2 W G z q 1 q f 6 i q 3 o 1 _ 5 0 0 . j p g

Just remove all the spaces first. One between each letter

From left to right - North Ireland, Scotland, Ireland. There eyes are a slightly darker green, more foresty, in my head though. Wales looks just like England but with blue-green eyes. In Age order (according to me)

Scotland

Ireland

North Ireland

Wales

And finally little England

For the whole North Ireland and Ireland's relationship, imagine Romano and Italy but rather than uniting into one country, they separated and that's basically it.

Ask if you need translations and REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!)