September 12, 2001. 12:27 a.m., Japanese Standard Time.
Japan was awoken by his phone ringing. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before glancing at the caller I.D. The number looked eerily similar to America's but Japan wasn't too sure it was his. He sighed before picking up the phone. "America-san, it is midnight at my prace."
"I'm Canada, eh." the voice on the other end said softly in a shakey voice. "I'm America's brother."
"Gomen'nasai Canada-san." the Japanese man apologized. "You sound as if you are crying. What's wrong?"
"Aren't you watching the news?" Canada asked. "Something terrible has-" He cut off and Japan could hear the sound of what sounded like a car radio on the other end of the line. "Mon Dieu! The North Tower-" Canada said something Japan couldn't make out. "Mon Dieu! Mon pauvre frére!"
"Canada-san?" Japan asked before getting up to turn on the TV. He flipped to a news channel. "Is everything-"
He didn't need to even need to finish asking. On the screen was the horrifying sight of a building in New York City collapsing in on itself. A huge smoke cloud was rising from the building that just collapsed and an area nearby where a similar building stood only a few hours before. The scene switched to America's Pentagon, one of the sides collapsed. From what Japan was hearing, the American government was declaring it an act of terrorism. Four planes had been hijacked. Two had crashed into the Twin Towers in New York, one had crashed into the Pentagon, and one had crashed into a field in southwestern Pennsylvania, it's destination unknown but believed to be Washington D.C. The South Tower had collapsed shortly after ten and the North Tower just collapsed. The number of dead, missing, and injured was unknown but it was believed to be as high as 100,000.
"Where is America-san?" Japan asked Canada.
"Je ne sais pas! His phone didn't even go to voicemail!" Canada sobbed. "His boss said his last known location was the 90th floor of the South Tower." Japan paled. That meant America was most likely in the tower when it collapsed. Canada spoke again. "I'm heading to New York. Can you do me a favor and call Germany?"
"Hai Canada-san."
Before anything else was said, the Canadian hung up. Japan watched the news in horror before dialing Germany. It rang three times before someone picked up, only it wasn't Germany. "Ve~ ciao Japan! Isn't it really late at your place?"
"Hai Itary-kun. Is Germany-san there?"
"Ve~ sì. And you don't have to be so formal. Siamo amici." Italy replied. "What's wrong? Your voice sounds shakey."
"Nothing Itary. Prease put Germany-san on the phone." Japan begged.
He heard Italy hand the phone to Germany and said German scold the Italian for answering his phone. "Hallo? Japan? Vhat's vrong?"
"Doitsu-san, are you watching the news?"
"Nein but I can turn it on." the German replied. There was a couple minutes of silence before Germany spoke again. "Mein Gott. Please tell me zis is another one of America's jokes."
"I am afraid not." Japan told his former ally. "According to Canada-san, America's rast known rocation was the South Tower."
Before Germany could reply Japan heard Italy cry out in shock. "Mio Dio! Ve~ Germany what's going on? Is America okay?"
"Not now Italien!" Germany scolded. "Go make pasta or somezing und let me handle zis."
"Now's not the time for pasta Germany!" Italy yelled angrily, an extremely rare thing. The Italian was normally laid back but he tended to get angry if someone he considers a friend gets hurt. "Non sono stupado! Non sono un'idiota! One of my friends is potentially in danger. I deserve to know too."
Germany sighed. "I have to go Japan. I vill meet you in New York, ja?"
"Hai Doitsu-san." Japan replied before Germany hung up.
He sighed. It was going to be a long night and he was going to have to find a way to New York that didn't involve flying because knowing America's government, they were probably already closing off the airspace. He got up and started packing a suitcase. Who knew long he'd be staying? Halfway through packing, it occurred to him that he should probably call China. The Chinese man would be extremely upset if he knew Japan knew and didn't tell him. Japan sighed before picking up the phone again.
September 11, 2001. 3:30 p.m. Western European Time
England scowled angrily as he looked at his caller I.D. It was France. What could he possibly want? He probably wanted to make sexual remarks or tease the British man or mock his cooking or something like that. England couldn't have a peaceful afternoon without France disturbing him. He was half tempted to ignore the call but decided against it. Knowing his rival, France would either keep calling until England picked up or break into his house.
"What do you want Frog?" he demanded into the phone. His ears were assulted by rapid French, which sounded like absolute gibberish to the Englishman. "Slow down and speak in English. I can't bloody understand you, wanker."
"Angleterre, something 'orrible 'as 'appened. Amérique is missing. 'Is country 'as been attacked."
"What? What the bloody hell are you going on about?" England demanded, worry growing in the pit of his stomach.
"Some terrorists hijacked four planes. Two crashed into the World Trade Center, one in 'is Pentagon, and another in a field in someplace called Pennsylvania. The Twin Towers 'ave collapsed. According to ma petit Canada, Amérique's last known location was the South Tower and 'e may 'ave been in it when it collapsed." France explained hastily.
England sank into his armchair, his hands shaking. This was some kind of sick joke France was playing on him. America wasn't missing. He was in his country goofing off and there was no plane hijacking. Right? This was just a sick, twisted joke that was being played on him.
"Y-you're lying Frog." England accused. "T-this is some kind of bloody joke and guess what, it's not funny."
"Angleterre-"
"Don't you dare call me that!" he growled. "My name is either England or Britain, not 'Angleterre.' Now put that git America on the bloody phone."
"Britain," France said calmly, using one of England's perfered names to alert him this was serious, "'e is not with me. Canada could not reach 'im and when I called, 'is phone didn't even go to voicemail. I told Canada we would meet 'im in New York. I will be there in an 'our to get you."
France hung up leaving England in silence. The Brit sat there for a moment with the phone to his ear, trying to process what France just said. America was missing and unreachable? No, that wasn't possible. England dialed America's cell phone number, determined to give his former colony a piece of his mind and tell him exactly what he thought about the little joke France and America were playing on him. They were probably in Paris or something laughing about how they thought England was gullible. He hit send.
Almost immediately the monotone machine came on on saying, "I'm sorry but the number you have reached is out of service. Please dial a different number and try again."
The line went dead as soon as the machine finished. England put his face in the palms of his hands. "No. It's not bloody possible. Those wankers are just playing a joke on me. No doubt Australia's involved." He dialed Australia's number, ignoring the fact it was after 1:30 a.m. at his place.
The Australian picked up on the fourth ring. "I was wondering when ya'd call. New Zealand called me after South Africa told 'im. And she was told Brazil and he was told by Mexico, who was apparently told by America's boss. I've been trying to call America but he's not answering his bloody phone."
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" England demanded.
"Ya didn't hear, mate?" Australia asked sounding confused. "I thought Spain or France woulda told ya because Mexico and Canada called them. Iggy, America's been attacked. Nobody can reach 'im. Canada, Mexico, New Zealand, South Africa, most of South and Central America, France, Spain, Ireland, Portugal, India, and I have all tried."
"Let me guess, it didn't even go to voicemail." England stated, a realization of horror coming over him. America wouldn't ignore that many countries trying to get ahold of him.
"Yeah. Let me guess, ya tried to call him."
"Yes. I did." the former empire replied, his voice shaking. "Are you and New Zealand going to New York?"
"Yeah." Australia replied. "France told you, didn't he? You thought it was a joke."
"Yes I did." England replied miserably. "And Jett."
"Yeah mate?"
"I'll see you in New York."
"Yeah Britain, I'll tell Fletch we'll see you in New York." Australia confirmed. "Call Italy and have him ask his friend, the Vatican City, to pray for those poor people."
"I will." England assured him. "Goodbye lad."
The Englishman quickly hung up. He sent Italy a text, telling him Australia's request. The Italian quickly replied that he and his friend, Slovenia, were stopping there before they went to New York and that he would gladly tell the Vatican City of Australia's request. England was curious as to why Germany wasn't going to the Vatican instead of Slovenia but he didn't pry. Italy and Slovenia's main religion was Catholicism and the two had been friends since they were children. And Italy probably had his reasons for excluding Germany, despite the fact that one of the German's main religions was Catholicism.
England quickly got up and started throwing clothes in a suitcase. He didn't care about packing neatly, he just had to get to America as soon as possible. He quickly wrote a note to his brothers in case they stopped by, telling them where he was going and that he didn't know when he'd be back. When he was done, he began mindlessly cleaning. Anything to ignore the situation. He had a long flight to worry, but right now he needed to numb himself to keep from breaking down.
September 11, 2001. 4:45 p.m. Central European Time.
Italy and Slovenia approached the Vatican together. The Italian was unbelievably mad at Germany. He couldn't believe Germany didn't want him to know what was going on in America's country. America was his friend. If he was hurt, Italy deserved to know. Which is why he excluded Germany from going to the Vatican with him and Slovenia. Normally Italy would invite Germany to go along with him and his childhood friend, but not this time.
"Italija, forgive me for asking, but where is Nemčija?" Slovenia asked. "He normally comes with us."
"I'm mad at him, Slovenia." Italy told him. "You are aware of what is going on in gli Stati Uniti d'America, sì?"
"Da. I am well aware, moj prijatelj." Slovenia replied. "America and I are not particularly close but we are on good terms, so I am horrified and worried. I was texting Bosnia earlier and he says Turkey is already questioning the Middle East. According to Turkey, the Middle East has been a disaster waiting to happen since Europeans and America started messing around there."
"I'm worried too. I knew Germany wasn't going to tell me anything, so I called America's sorella. According to Messico, nobody can reach America."
"Moj Bog." the Slovenian said in horror as they reached the Vatican. "You don't think he was..."
"Unfortunately, sì." Italy replied miserably. "Messico said that America's boss said his last known location was the South Tower."
"Moj Bog! He could be seriously hurt and he's missing. We need to get there as soon as possible. They will need all the help they can get."
"Who needs help?" a voice asked. The two turned and came face to face with a kindly old man the both knew to be Vatican City.
"America, Padre." Italy replied. "Haven't you heard? T-terrorists hijacked planes and flew them into buildings. They don't know how many people lost their lives but they think it is as high as 100,000."
The Italian burst into tears. Slovenia comforted his friend the best he could. It was everything he could do not to break down too. What was happening was horrifying. The Vatican looked just as horrified as the two larger countries felt. He put a hand on Italy's shoulder. "Non piangere, Bambino."
"Però Padre," Italy sniffled, "America è mio amico. He's missing and not answering his phone. They think he was in one of the buildings that was hit."
"Child, I know you care for your friends, but tears will not help." the older man told him. "It is in God's hands. All we can do is pray."
"That reminds me, Padre. Inghilterra wanted me to tell that Australia wants you to pray for America and his people." Italy told him.
"I will." the Vatican assured him. "You two better pray as well. Am I to assume you both are going to America?"
"Ja." Slovenia replied. "Italija, we better get going."
"Sì. Arrivederci, Padre!"
"Goodbye Italy. Goodbye Slovenia." the Vatican called after them as they started to leave. "And Italy." The Italian turned to face him. "Forgive Germany for whatever he did to anger you. Remember, God forgave you, so you should do the same to those who wrong you. I will send your brother along when I see him."
The two countries left the Vatican. Slovenia turned to Italy. "So we are going to America then?" Italy nodded in affirmation. "I shall text Croatia and ask him to swing by my house and grab clothes before he leaves for New York. I know he, Bosnia, and Albania will be coming with Greece and Turkey."
September 11, 2001. 6:00 p.m. Eastern Europe Time.
Estonia ran to Russia's study and pounded on the door. "Mr. Russia! Mr. Russia, it's an emergency!"
The Russian opened the door holding his pipe and a bottle of vodka. He was wearing his usual smile that made Estonia and the other Baltics tremble in fear. But Estonia had to tell Russia what was going on. Lithuania was devestated and Latvia would end up getting them all in trouble.
"Ah Estonia, come in. I hope the emergency is that the world finally wants to become one or the world is on fire otherwise I will have to use my magic cane. I am very busy man, da."
Well, one of his guesses was pretty close. Only it wasn't the world on fire. It was several areas in America. Estonia knew he had to be careful how he worded what he had to say. America and Russia were on better terms than they were during the Cold War but their relationship was still kind of rocky, and strange. Definitely strange. Strange to the point it scared Germany and England when they saw the two hanging out.
Estonia took a deep breath before speaking. "Americahasbeenattacked! Pleasedon'tkillme!"
Russia cocked his head in confusion. "What was that, Comrade? I did not understand a word you said. Slow down and use spaces, da."
"America's country has been attacked!" he cried.
"Amerika has been attacked?" Russia asked slowly.
"Jah, a few hours ago. Some terrorists hijacked planes. Two were flown into the North and South Towers of the World Trade Center in New York. Both buildings have collapsed. Another was flown into America's Pentagon. And the last was crashed in someplace called Pennsylvania, it's destination unknown." Estonia explained nervously. He start muttering, "Please don't kill me, please don't kill me..." rapidly under his breath while shaking.
Russia looked mildly concerned. "Tell me, does this mean all members of NATO are at war now?" He glanced at Estonia. "Are you cold Comrade? You are shaking."
"No! Of course not! I'll be leaving now."
Estonia bolted out of the room like it was on fire, leaving Russia alone. He picked up the phone and dialed America's cell number. He really wanted to know if this was considered an act of war, which it probably was. But Russia was still getting used to his new "democracy" and NATO, so he figured he should ask his favorite American just in case. The last thing he needed was sanctions from the U.N. because he didn't follow the rules. He hit send but it didn't even ring. "I'm sorry but the number you have reached is out of service. Please dial a different number and try again."
Russia frowned. Surely America didn't cancel his phone. He was a superpower and needed to be able to be reached at all times. As far as Russia knew, America only turned his phone off for meetings. But that message clearly said his phone is out of service, which means it was canceled. Unless the American was pranking him, in which case superpower or not, America would be answering to Russia's pipe.
Russia got up. It looked like he was taking a trip to New York to sort this out. It was either a prank, a misunderstanding, or something happened to America.
This is going to be a multi-chapter story. Thank you for all the positive reviews. And yes, I can give the translations.
Gomen'nasai= Japanese for "I'm sorry"
Mon pauvre frére= French for "My poor brother"
Je ne sais pas!= French for "I don't know!"
Siamo amici= Italian for "We're friends."
Non sono stupado. Non sono un'idiota= Italian for "I'm not stupid. I'm not an idiot."
gli Stati Uniti d'America= Italian for "The United States of America"
moj prijatelj= Slovenian for "my friend"
Moj Bog= Slovenian for "My God"
Non piangere, Bambino= Italian for "Don't cry, Child."
America è mio amico= Italian for "America is my friend."
Arrivederci= Italian for "Goodbye" more formal than "Ciao"
Forgive my, most likely, butchering of other languages. The only other language I know is what I call, survival Spanish and just started learning Italian so I only know the basics and how to conjugate essere plus a few insults. Anyway, thank you all for your support. If any historical facts are wrong, then I apologize ahead of time. My only resource is Wikipedia. I don't own Hetalia. Any reference to any real person is unintentional and this work is for fictional purposes. Slovenia is my OC.