Sorry if I butchered accents (especially Sweden's). I've said it before; I really can't do accents well. But the Australian accent is authentic, maybe. I know a guy from Australia, so I based it on the way he talks to be honest.

Enjoy!

16 August 1933

Gilbert leaned back in the red-cushioned chair, the backside of his arm across his forehead that just so happened to be aching at the moment. He probably shouldn't have drunk so much beer yesterday, but the past is the past. Everything became the past so quickly too. What he had just thought or said was now the past. It was strange once you started to think about it, similar to that feeling one gets when they wonder why they were born or what brought them into existence, besides the obvious – their mother and father.

So fast, time passed so fast.

He knew that others thought of him as having lived a very long time, but he did not share this opinion. To himself, he thought, he was not a person that had lived a long life, but one who hadn't lived enough.

"Calm down, France!" The loud, haughty voice of an Englishman, more specifically, the epitome of all Englishmen and women – the personification of England – brought Gilbert back from his musings and to the present. And in the present, they, the members of the League of Nations, were having a meeting. He hated these meetings, but more so this year than the last. Everyone, it seemed, was ganging up on his bruder about Hitler and the Nazi party. Perhaps they did have reason to be angry with him – not going along with disarmament, the establishment of the Gestapo, massive book burnings, outlawing trade unions, banning all non-Nazi parties, boycotting Jewish businesses – but even with all that, they didn't need to be mad at Ludwig.

"I am calm, Angleterre." France sent a pointed look to England, indignation at something evident in his facial expression. "I am merely expressing my concerns, as should the rest of you, over Allemagne's recent activities."

Norway scoffed, lifting his head a bit higher than normal and sending France a glare at the same time. "Why should I be concerned? I'm not the one that took advantage of Tyskland after the war ended."

"Francia, mi amigo," Spain placed a comforting hand on old friend's shoulder before he could react to the snide comment, "you have been on edge since Japan left earlier this year. That is what is causing these thoughts."

"Si," Honduras called from her seat across the table from France, "and it is making Paraguay anxious." She pushed back a few stray strands of her long, black hair, sending a snarky grin to her fellow Latino nation.

Paraguay, mouth open in protest, was unable to state that this was untrue due to the sudden outburst of Liberia, "If America were here, he'd –"

She was abruptly cut off by England, "Don't bring him up!" He had slammed his fists onto the wooden table, rising from his chair in the process. Already incensed over an argument he and France had shared in the morning, he was in the perfect position to unload his anger at the American male that was absent, again. "He's the one that suggested this bloody League of Nations! Then he doesn't join! First it was, 'I'm not your ally, just an associated power' and now this!"

"Maybe he decided he could no longer handle your incessant yelling," came the calm voice of India, a nice-looking young man (though much older than his appearance suggested). That was him, really, that was tired of England's 'incessant yelling'. His colonizer had obviously not learned the art of speaking softly, but firmly to get across points, rather than bellowing like a frog.

South Africa sighed, and fearing more yelling from England, only this time towards India, decided he would ask something – anything – before that happened. "When can we leave?"

"Are we done yet? I'm feeling homesick, yeah?" Australia ran a tan hand through his naturally spiky hair, following the lead of his fellow commonwealth. "No offense meant, mate," he looked towards Switzerland, who sent a nod back, "but Aussie – there's no better place for me."

Switzerland cleared his throat loudly, effectively bringing the attention to himself, issuing his straightening of the bowtie around his neck. "We have all had our chance to speak of recent developments and concerns," he eyed France pointedly at this, "but as the room now grows restless, it is no longer an appropriate time to discuss matters. And so, I adjourn this meeting of the League of Nations on this 16th day of August in the year 1933. Go in peace." He reached down for the briefcase sitting beside his chair – at the head of the table – grabbed it, and promptly marched out of the room.

Other nations followed suit, picking up their belongings and heading for home. Siam and Czechoslovakia had to side-step a man in a blue, pinstripe suit bursting into the room, nearly out of breath. The two shared a small shake of the head over the running man.

The running man stopped in front of Sweden and Finland, who were heading out together, currently discussing where they would be stopping for a mid-day meal. "Sverige," the man tilted his head slightly forwards, his eyes cast downwards in a form of respect and fear. Most people did fear the big, grizzly man, though anyone who really knew him would tell you he was the opposite, most of the time.

"Vad?"

At the short, straight to the point response, the man awkwardly looked up then back down. "Sverige, sir, Amerika is –" This had pricked the interest of several remaining nations, though Mexico started mumbling something about a 'gringo' as he continued on his way out, only having paused momentarily at the mention of his neighbor.

Sweden had picked up on this immediately and considering that America being in Switzerland was something that only he and Finland were supposed to know meant that it needed to be kept quiet. America, he knew, had been avoiding the others for quite some time, ever since the startup of the League of Nations, only being seen here and there. He was more focused on the Pacific at the moment; the whole matter with Japan and China had caused the younger nation a few sleepless nights. Sweden knew this, because he had spent those sleepless nights with him, watching the young man. He'd always felt a sense of protectiveness towards America. Finland and he had been the first to find him, after all. And in Sweden's opinion, that made America their son – sort of.

It had started in America's early years, him coming to stay with Sweden for short periods of time. The two would sit and talk about anything but politics; what Sweden's first thoughts were upon meeting America as a baby, how America was afraid of him, Sweden's first memory, and America's first memory. It was just the simple, light-hearted stuff, most of the time. There were times when they talked about the hard stuff, which brought up unpleasant memories. Out of all the moments the two had spent together, however, Sweden favored the ones in which America had slipped up and called him 'Dad' or referred to him as a father-figure in some way.

And he was, as far as Sweden was concerned, America's dad. Dad's had a duty to protect their sons. America was trying to keep his presence quiet, so, as America's dad, it was Sweden's job to make sure that happened.

"Not h're." He, with Finland beside him, walked out of the room, the pinstripe suit man trailing after them. The voices of several nations discussing what could be happening and how America was involved followed them out of the room.

Finland smiled, feeling happier than he had in a few months. It was always delightful to see America to him. America was the child he did not get to raise; not the son he never had – that was a cliché phrase – because he had him now. Well, "had him" was such a weird way to phrase it, really. It wasn't as if he had physically given birth to him. But America had been the one, after all those years, to visit him before he worked up the courage to make contact with the younger nation. It was a strange moment to look back on – America walking off the ship towards him, like a son returning home from war.

"How'd the meeting go," the American asked from his seat across from Finland, sipping on a cup of coffee. With cream and sugar, of course, which was the way Alfred normally liked it.

"F'ne."

The corner of America's mouth turned up, forming a quirky kind of smile at the short response. He took another sip of his coffee, then wrapped his hands firmly around the cup, letting the warmth sink into the palm of his hands. "How did Germany look?"

Finland set down his own coffee cup, sharing a glance with Sweden. He sighed, "I'm worried."

America stared intently at the man now. "Why?"

"Been acting str'nge."

"Yes," Finland nodded in agreement, "his recent activities have been strange. And his demeanor…he seems stiff."

"Stiff?" America chuckled. "Germany's always been a tightwad."

"St'ffer than usu'l," was Sweden's response as he adjusted his glasses. They kept falling forward; he needed to get that fixed, because it was becoming slightly annoying.

"Any new territories?"

"No, you'd know if he did."

"I guess so." America ran a hand through his already unruly hair, pushing his own glasses back up the bridge of his nose, Sweden noted (they both needed to have their glasses fixed). "But I've been so focused on the Pacific. I thought I might've missed something." He laughed it off, like the problems in the Pacific were just a new board game he'd become obsessed with.

"You need me t' talk t' Japan aga'n?"

"No thanks, dad." America playfully threw the familial term at Sweden, though his eyes conveyed that it was not necessarily meant in just a teasing manner. "I'm a big boy. I can handle my own battles." And quietly, underneath his breath, he added, "I need to."

"Of course, you are your own nation." Finland smiled at America, pushing aside his coffee cup that he had just finished off. "But Sverige and I will be here if you need us."

"I know."

Alfred knocked once, then twice. He thought about adding in a third knock for good measure, but thought it would seem too impatient. Not that he was denying being impatient, however. To his relief, however, the person that had heard his knocks was not slow and had quickly come to open the door.

It was Amelia, his sister. First, she stared at him with an open mouth, clearly in shock at his presence, followed by a bright smile paired with quickly form tears of joy. "Alfred!" She threw her arms around his neck, made easier by Alfred lowering himself so that she could reach.

"What are you doing here?" Amelia sat beside him on the couch, leaning forward so that she it was easier to see his face when he spoke. "Not that I'm complaining, but I thought you were avoiding Europe."

"I paid a visit to Finland and Sweden." Alfred's eyes traveled around the room, taking in the furniture. It was all arranged in a form that gave you the feel that the owner of the house was a very organized person, which meant that it had not been Amelia who picked out or arranged the furniture. "And I wanted to see you."

"Sweden and Finland?" She searched his eyes curiously. "Why?"

Alfred cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. "There was something I wanted to check." He couldn't tell he had been asking about Ludwig. Besides, it had been Germany he was asking about, really, and Germany was different from Ludwig. "You should have been at the inauguration." Quickly, his eyes met hers before he was forced to look away once again for fear that she would discover what he wanted to keep hidden.

"Of President Roosevelt?"

Alfred nodded.

"How is he?"

"Fantastic! He and Teddy are cousins, you know, but Franklin's nothing like Teddy."

"Teddy was quite a character."

"A little rough around the edges."

"But fantastic."

They shared a laugh, speaking these sentences so naturally that it would have been obvious to an outsider this was something they had conversed about before. Amelia and Alfred, they got along so well. Looking at the two, one would assume they were twins, albeit not identical. But in all honesty, this was not the case as they were really only cousins. While Alfred grew up under the tutelage of Arthur, Amelia had Alice, Arthur's cousin. It was a strange situation, but for all the matter to the both of them, they were siblings regardless.

"Do you want to see Hans?" Amelia asked, rising from the couch, evidently not going to take 'no' for an answer.

Alfred nodded, again, and off she went. He watched her leave the room, feeling guilt for the secrets he had decided to keep. Something was stirring in Europe, he could tell from the expressions on Finland and Sweden's faces earlier. They didn't want to tell him this outright, probably thinking he had enough trouble as it was right now in Asia. But Alfred knew that if something happened in Europe, no matter how long he tried to hold out, America would be dragged into it. Worse than being dragged into another war however, was the haunting thought that Amelia's child, Hans, had something to do with the rising tensions.

History Time!

The following is the timeline I'm following, and the actual dates of the events that Gilbert (Spain and Alfred) mentioned occurred. February 28 - The Reichstag Fire Decree is passed, nullifying several German civil liberties; March 4 - Franklin Delano Roosevelt is inaugurated as President of the United States; March 20 - Germany's first concentration camp, Dachau, is completed; March 23 - The Reichstag passes the Enabling Act, making Adolf Hitler dictator of Germany; March 24 - Foreign Jews call for a boycott of imported German goods; April 1 - The recently elected Nazis start a one-day boycott of Jewish businesses; April 26 - The Gestapo is established in Germany; May 2 - Hitler outlaws trade unions; May 10 - Nazis start massive public book burnings; June 21 - All non-Nazi parties are banned in Germany.

And, yes, I do see Sweden and Finland as the two people America may occasionally refer to with parental terms.