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What happens at a world meeting?
Our story was recently deleted off Fanfiction, so we're reposting it. From here on out, all the author's notes will be old.
The tall doors to the world conference burst open and Prussia landed on the oval table. Silence hung in the air for a split second before Germany broke it.
"Gott verdammt, bruder!" This was the last straw after Prussia had kept him up all night. Germany leapt onto the conference table and chased his brother as Prussia took off like a bullet. The nations watched him for a moment before boredom struck. They left the table, choosing to mingle with their friends.
"Ay caramba!" Spain laughed as he watched his friend fleeing his brother's wrath. Romano flushed red and puffed out his cheeks.
"Quit paying attention to the stupid Potato Bastards!" He seized a tomato from the bowl on the table and threw it at his former mentor. The tomato missed Spain, instead hitting Italy on the cheek. The younger nation turned to his brother.
"What's wrong, Romano?" he asked innocently. Another tomato hit him on the forehead, splattering juice on his nice suit. Italy blinked in surprise but didn't say anything.
"Ah, Romano, you need to be happy. Fusososo!" Spain said happily. Romano flushed a deeper red.
"Shut up, you stupid Tomato Bastard!" He threw another tomato and this time it struck Spain on the forehead, bits of tomato flying in all directions. Some landed on England who was listening to his brothers argue drunkenly.
"Hey, watch it, git. This suit was just cleaned." England withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping tomato off.
"Angleterre, you should not be so vain," France said. He leaned over and winked suggestively at the younger nation. England flushed bright red and threw the handkerchief at him.
"Shut it, you bloody frog!" France smirked and said something in French, sending England on a ranting spree about the stupidity of his language.
"You two geezers are so funny," America clutched his stomach laughing.
"Shut it, git," England snapped. He swung a punch at the taller nation but missed as America straightened up.
"Oui, stay out of this," France added. He smiled and poked England to further irritate him.
America doubled over laughing again as the European nations resumed their fist fight. Canada watched his brother and mentors with a small smile on his lips. His polar bear, Kumajirou, looked up at him from his spot in the nation's arms.
"Who're you?" the polar bear asked.
Canada gave an inward sigh. "I'm Canada," he said softly.
"What did the muscle headed donkey do this time?" Luxemburg scowled and crossed his arms as he watched Germany tackle his older brother.
"Gah! Not awesome, West." Prussia struggled to escape from his brother's grasp while India anxiously watched the pair wrestle.
"Shut up, bruder, you're not even supposed to be here." Germany pinned his brother to the floor. Now how was he going to get his older brother into the hotel room and make sure he stayed there?
"Would you look at that," Luxemburg said. "The muscle headed donkey is trying to control his un-awesome brother."
"Hey!" Prussia glared at the younger nation from his position on the floor.
"Lux, why must you be so rude to Germany?" Luxemburg scowled up at Belgium who stood over him, her arms crossed.
"Because he's an idiot, all brawns and no brains." Prussia escaped from his brother and ran off cackling with Germany cussing him out.
"That's not true, Lux," Belgium scolded her younger brother. Luxemburg opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he caught the Netherlands' glare.
In a separate corner China was lecturing his siblings. "You must rejoin me or you will end up like North Korea, aru,"
Taiwan rolled her eyes. "Shut it, bastard." China scowled and retorted in Chinese, starting an argument between the two Asian nations. Hong Kong's attention strayed to the corner where the Nordics were sitting. He spotted Iceland and Finland playing Tic-Tac-Toe on a spare piece of paper. Denmark was frowning at Norway who was muttering. He shook his head before listening to what Sweden had to say.
"Trust me, China," Turkey said from his seat beside Cyprus and Egypt. "Yer never going to be able to control the kids." Greece glared at him.
"Shut up, you masked pervert." A cat crawled into the carefree nation's lap. He stroked it lightly before falling asleep.
"They will listen to me eventually. One day they will learn the world is not a safe place, aru." Taiwan yanked on her brother's ponytail. "Aiyah!" Hong Kong shook his head and moved to stand by Iceland.
"Nǐ hǎo." He bowed slightly to Iceland, his hands tucked into his long sleeves.
"Hello," Iceland said without looking up from the Tic-Tac-Toe board. Finland finished his 'X' and drew a line through it.
"I win!" he exclaimed for the twenty fourth time that day. Iceland groaned and dropped his pen.
"I quit, this is boring." Finland pouted but crumpled up the paper and threw it over his shoulder. Hong Kong watched them with a bored expression.
"The meeting is rather boring, and teacher won't shut up," he said.
"My brothers are acting a little strange. Norge hasn't tried to strangle Dan once." Iceland looked over at the Scandinavians with worry. Bored with the conversation, Finland wandered off to rescue Estonia from Russia.
"I am sure it is just a phase," Hong Kong said without worry. "They will get over it. Would you like to go for tea after the meeting? I am going with Macau."
"I would love some tea. I just need to let Norge know where I'm going. He'll freak out if I disappear."
"Teacher is the same way." Hong Kong nodded. "We will wait for you in the lobby." Cuba stormed past the pair on his way to the laughing America.
"Hey, America," he yelled at the superpower. "What is this you've been saying about me? That I'm just a stupid communist country you could easily fix?"
America stopped laughing, straightening up and rubbing his ribs. "Sure, dude, it'd be easy. I fixed Russia didn't I?"
"Why, you little-" Cuba slammed a fist into America's face and pounced on him.
"Gah!" America fell back onto the table with Cuba on top of him, snapping it in two under his strength. Several nations shouted in surprise and Scotland swore as his bottle of scotch shattered on the ground.
"You can't just go saying you'll fix me, I'm doing just fine." Cuba continued to punch every inch of America he could reach.
America tried to shove him off. "No . . . way . . . dude. Then why do your people keep coming to my place? Oof!" A fist knocked the wind out of him. Everyone stopped to watch the two fighting nations. England bit his lip nervously. Should he help America or leave him to fend for himself? Denmark looked up from his conversation with Norway. His lips pulled back in a snarl when he saw Cuba punching America.
"Shut up, you bratty capitalist!" America succeeded in pushing Cuba off him. He stood, wiping a trail of blood from his chin. Cuba leapt to his feet, ready to continue the fight.
"I just want to help you. And don't call me a brat." A pounding was growing in America's head.
"That's what you are!" The blood surged to his ears and America lunged forward with surprising speed.
"No I'm not!" He tackled Cuba and returned the blows to the Hispanic nation. "Take it back!"
"America, what has gotten into you?" England ran up behind him.
"Kid, I have more than two hundred and sixty years on you."
"Shut up! Just shut up!" Cuba shoved America off and pounced on him, driving a fist toward his face. America caught and twisted it behind Cuba's back. "All I want to do is help!" he howled in rage. England seized America's free arm.
"America, stop, you'll break his arm!"
"Shut up!" America shoved England back. The smaller nation tripped over the remnants of the broken table. Cuba twisted his arm out of America's grip and lifted him by his collar.
"You're not helping anyone, America." Cuba pulled his arm back to punch America straight in the face. A hand snapped out and seized his wrist in a bone breaking grip. Denmark stood over the two nations, a terrifying snarl on his usually happy face.
"Let him go, Cuba," Denmark snarled. "Before I break all of yer bones." England froze in the motion of standing. Why was Denmark helping America? America struggled weakly in Cuba's grip.
"I . . . got . . . this," he choked out. He didn't need help from anyone else to win this fight. Denmark's face smoothed out when he looked at America. Japan frowned. Something was up with the Nordic nation, he could tell.
"Be quiet, kid." Denmark glared at Cuba. "I said let him go." He tightened his grip on Cuba until the nation released America. The Hispanic nation stalked off holding his bruised wrist and swearing under his breath. Canada joined him and they conversed in low voices. It ended with Cuba throwing his hands up in defeat and stomping away.
"Are ya okay, America?" Denmark turned to look at the younger nation. His glare had been exchanged for a soft smile.
America stood rubbing his cheek. "I'm fine. I could've stopped him if you hadn't butted in." Canada appeared beside him, he wasn't too happy with his best friend beating up his brother.
"Give yerself a break, kid. We've got some hot chocolate in our room. Do ya want some?" America hesitated. His blood was cooling and a tired feeling washed over him. Nothing else was going to happen in the meeting and everyone was staring at him.
"Sure, I guess." Canada cocked his head in worry; America just patted him on the shoulder and smiled weakly. "I'll be fine," he assured his younger brother.
"Come on," Denmark said. "We're on the fourth floor."
"Okay, I'll see you later, Canada. I'll watch you play hockey against Russia." Canada smiled. His brother liked watching hockey but only if Canada was playing. Other than that America was terrified to watch a game with him.
"See you there, brother." Denmark led America to the elevator where Sweden and Norway were waiting. Norway's eyes flashed for a split second before Denmark gave a slight nod. Canada watched them go before he walked over to Russia with Kumajirou. The taller nation was distracted from his argument with Poland about Lithuania.
America stepped into the elevator rubbing his chin. "Are ya okay, America? It looks like Cuba hit ya pretty hard," Denmark commented.
"I'm fine." America looked away. He could have won that fight if Denmark hadn't stopped Cuba.
"Look, America, ya won't always win a fight. Sometimes ya gotta accept defeat."
"I won't accept defeat until I have no other choice."
"Ya need ta stop thinking like that, America. It's exactly what's going to get ya hurt really bad." The doors slid shut and Sweden pressed the button for the fourth floor.
"It's not like I haven't been hurt before. Canada burnt Washington D.C. and the Confederacy . . ." America stopped talking abruptly. He had almost let it slip out.
"What about the Confederacy?" Denmark asked curiously. "It was just a bunch of states causing trouble, wasn't it?" He shared a quick glance with Sweden. The taller nation gave a slight shrug. He didn't know much about America's civil war. America had shut everyone out when it had happened and there had been no word about a new nation or anything of that sort.
"Um . . . yeah, right, just the states causing a lot of painful issues." No one had known for years and America wanted to keep it that way.
"Is there something yer not telling us, America?"
"Huh? Oh, um, no!" America shuffled nervously. He checked his cellphone quickly. The earlier text had hinted about being Russia to see him but no other texts had arrived since.
"Is something wrong, America?" Norway spoke for the first time since they'd entered the elevator.
"No, it's fine. I was worried about . . . North Carolina. It's just a small problem, nothing I can't handle." America slipped his cellphone back in his pocket.
"I see." Norway stared at the door dully until it opened. Denmark led America to room 413.
"Here we are, home sweet home." Denmark opened the door and ushered the group in. Three beds lined one wall with a television and wardrobes on the opposite wall. America went to look out a window while the Nordics moved into the room's small kitchenette. They murmured to each other, Denmark snapped and Norway huffed at him. America's eyes flashed across the sidewalk nervously. He prayed he wasn't right and the text had just been a joke.
A flash of yellow caught his eye and America groaned softly. A young woman wore an open trench coat to reveal a plaid shirt tied above her stomach, shorts, and calf-high boots. She craned her neck, searching the crowds with bright blue eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled into two separate pigtails and the local Russians were giving her strange looks. America smiled at his sister's antics. No one in their right mind would wear shorts and an open coat in the middle of a Russian winter.
America looked back to the Nordics but they were still conversing while making the hot chocolate. He turned to the window and waved at the girl but she didn't notice. Giving up, he closed his eyes and focused.
'Up here, sis,' he thought as hard as he could. 'On the fourth floor.' The girl looked up and gave a wave worthy of a queen. America smiled and returned the wave then made a shooing motion. 'You're not supposed to be here.' The girl scowled but turned and left, waving goodbye over her shoulder. America waved one last time before he turned back to the room.
When America looked at the ground he saw a long carrying case lying under the bed. Curious, he knelt down and pulled it out, examining it. The case was heavy and latched shut, the Scandinavian cross stamped into it.
Curiosity got the better of America and he flipped the latches of the case. The lid swung open to reveal a three foot sword with a Scandinavian Cross etched into it. America's mouth fell open in shock. Why was there a sword in the Scandinavian's hotel room? How had they even got it into the hotel without being noticed? Quickly he shut the lid and flipped the latches again, rising from the floor.
"What 're you doing?" a voice asked directly behind him. America spun to see Sweden towering over him.
"Nothing! How's the hot cocoa coming?" America asked in a shaky voice.
"The h't cocoa's d'ne." America followed Sweden to the kitchenette, wringing his hands nervously. Norway offered him a mug of hot chocolate.
"Are ya sure yer alright, America?" Denmark asked. America accepted the steaming mug and took a quick sip. He plastered a smile onto his nervous face.
"I'm fine. Just fine!" he said. Denmark frowned skeptically at the younger nation. The bleeding had stopped but a bruise was forming on America's left cheek.
"Cuba really did a number on ya," Denmark commented. America laughed loudly.
"I'm fine! Really! Canada's done worse to me!"
"What has Canada ever done to you?" Norway asked. The thought of the soft spoken nation being violent befuddled him.
"Well . . ." America shifted nervously. "I sort of burned York down so he burnt Washington D.C. down. England told him to do it." He took a gulp of the hot chocolate; the liquid burning his throat on the way down.
"Damn England, I knew he was nothing but trouble," Denmark muttered under his breath. America perked up.
"Huh? You say something?" Denmark fixed America with a serious expression.
"I knew England was going to be nothing but trouble. We should have fought him harder." America frowned in confusion; he opened his mouth to say something but closed it again.
"We didn't fight him at all, Dan," Norway pointed out.
"What are you guys talking about?" America blinked slowly and shook his head. His head spun at the slight movement. Thinking nothing of it, he finished off the hot chocolate in his mug.
"We found ya first, America." The younger nation froze.
"What? No, Iggy and France found me."
"No," Denmark demanded. "We found ya first. We tried raising ya but Native drove us out. She didn't want us on her land. She saw what was happening. She didn't last too long after ya were born." America backed away, dropping his mug. The ceramic shattered on the floor skittering across the kitchenette.
"I don't know what you're talking about. You're crazy!"
"No, we aren't, America." Norway stepped forward with an outstretched hand. "We found you first and tried to raise you."
"No! No way! I . . . I gotta go." America moved for the door but Sweden stepped in his path.
"Relax, America." America stepped back. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he shook his head again.
"Sve's right, America. If you struggle you're only going to hurt yourself," Norway said.
"What are you talking about?" America demanded.
"Ya haven't noticed yet, America? Aren't ya the least bit tired?" Denmark asked. America shook his head slowly.
"No. Why would I b-" America began but froze, realization dawned on his face. "You drugged my hot cocoa!"
"There was no other way, America." Norway shook his head as if it made perfect sense. He was amazed the young nation was still standing. How much sedative did it take to knock him out? "You wouldn't have come with us on your own." America paled in anger. All symptoms of dizziness vanished with the pounding of blood in his ears. What were these three doing? He shoved Sweden aside and raced for the door.
Denmark tackled America's legs, knocking him to the floor. "Yer not getting away that easily."
"Dad! Papa! Canada! Help!" America struggled violently against Denmark's grasp.
"Be quiet, America." Denmark moved up to sit on America's back and tried to pin him down but America wouldn't have it. He gave a great shove and the taller nation fell backward off him. He seized the door handle, ready to rip the door of its hinges, but a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders. Sweden dragged America to the floor, pinning him down by his shoulders.
"Here, I have more sedative for him." Something pricked America's neck and he saw Norway draw a needle away. America struggled weakly in Sweden's grasp. One sedative had little effect on him, but two could work like a dream.
"W-Why?" America tried to shove Sweden off but his body refused to obey him. Denmark's voice echoed in his head as black spots filled his vision.
"Because, America, we're Vikings." A single thought raced through America's mind as his head hit the floor.
'Shit!'
Chaos ensues.