America slept peacefully in his bed, dreaming about saving the world from evil vegan overlords trying to destroy all hamburger joints. He could see it... the final boss... now all he needs to do is- *Thud!* a painful slam to his chest shot him awake.
America opened his eyes and looked in front of him, only to see a fuzzy white circle an inch away from his face. He blinked away his bleary eyesight and looked back at the now focused, but technically still fuzzy white circle.
"Kumajiro?" He asked quizzically. He scooted upright and looked at the bear in his lap. "Why are you jumping on me? I was in the middle of an epic dream!"
"Canada said you have food," Kumajiro replied, drool beginning to seep out of his mouth. "Of course he did," America sighed as he dug out a snack from a secret compartment in the nearby nightstand.
He gave the snack to Kumajiro as he stood up from the bed, then grabbed his glasses from atop the nightstand and went over to the dresser to get his clothes ready.
After taking a quick shower, America put on his glasses, suit and tie, and bomber jacket. Making sure that everything looked perfect, he stepped away from the mirror and exited the bathroom.
America looked over and saw that Kumajiro was now digging into his nightstand. "Kumajiro NOOO!" America ran over and started yanking Kumajiro out of the drawer, while the bear clawed and growled at him.
Canada happily poured some pancake batter into the pan as he hummed the Canadian National Anthem, getting rudely interrupted as he heard shouting and banging coming from upstairs.
America ran down the stairs holding a thrashing Kumajiro covered in chip crumbs and chocolate. "Mattie! Why did you sic your stupid bear on me?! He ate all of my snacks!" he yelled as he held out the flailing polar bear.
Kumajiro spun around in America's hands and grabbed onto his hair. "Ahhh! Don't grab Nantucket you bastard, That's not fair!" He squealed as Kumajiro yanked it harder.
Canada walked over and took Kumajiro from America, then stuck a pancake in the bear's mouth to calm him down.
America smoothed out his hair and protectively covered Nantucket with his hand.
"Why couldn't that dumb bear just let me sleep?"
"Because you were sleeping for too long, if you slept in any longer we would be late for the meeting," Canada explained while making more pancakes. "Besides, he did you a favor. All of those unhealthy foods will kill you one of these days."
"Oh, Don't you even start Mr. Idrinkmaplesyruplikeit'sfuckin'water! We both know I'm perfectly capable of eating healthy stuff too," America snapped.
Canada spun his head to his brother and angrily glared at him. "Maple syrup is way healthier than any of those crappy, artificially sweetened candies you stuff in your face!"
"Your country has a lot of the same candies, stop being a hypocrite," America argued.
Canada poured syrup on one of the pancakes and handed it to America. "Let's just drop it, eh? We can take out our anger during hockey season. (So I can beat you with a hockey stick.)"
America nodded in agreement and the two brothers walked to the table to eat. After the two personifications and polar bear finished their breakfast, they finished getting ready and were now on their way to the meeting.
"Ugh! Why is the meeting so far away?!" America whined while leaning against the car window. "It's your fault, eh. You're the one that wanted most of your houses to be in the countryside," Canada sighed while keeping his eyes on the road.
America's house was in an open field, with the meeting taking place in Boston... around 60 miles away.
Canada glanced at the clock and saw that it was 7:40 A.M. Doing the math based on how long they've been driving already, he calculated that they would be just on time for the meeting.
However, that meant no breaks for fast food.
"Sorry Al, but we aren't gonna be able to get any hamburgers or coffee today," he apologized. America stared sadly at Canada before a small smile appeared on his face.
"Don't worry about it bro, the hero always comes prepared," America said as he slowly bent down and dug through his bag, pulling out a large metal water bottle and sugar packets.
Canada eyed the container with a bemused look. "When did you have time to make coffee?"
"It's not coffee, it's sun tea," America corrected.
Canada just looked at America in bewilderment. "I've visited you thousands of times, I have not seen you once drink tea since before the Revolutionary War."
"It's only for when I don't have coffee, which is very rare. Besides, some kinds of tea are pretty good," America said as he poured the sugar in.
America realized what he just said and glared at Canada. "Don't you dare say anything about this to England."
"Aww, but England's reaction would be priceless," Canada joked. "Oh love, I knew you were a true Brit, you will never be tainted by that gross frog," He imitated.
America glared harder at him. Canada lightly chuckled to himself, "Chill out Al, I won't say anything."
America huffed as he crossed his arms and pouted. "You better not."
About 18 minutes later, the 3 arrived at the meeting and rushed up the stairs, arriving to the meeting doors just in time. America quickly amped himself up before bursting through the doors. "The hero and his sidekick have arrived!"
Canada quickly walked up and slapped America in the back of the head. "I'm not your sidekick you hoser!"
"Sorry Mattie, I couldn't help it," America apologized as he rubbed his head.
"America, stop talking to yourself and start the meeting," England scolded.
America was about to correct England, but stopped himself. Maybe he could mess with him a little. "That's rich coming from the guy that talks to fairies," He quipped.
"They are real you twit!" England yelled.
"Right... I'll believe that when pigs fly."
"Those exist too you- mmphmmrrm!"
"Angleterre stop, Amérique was just talking to petit Mathieu," France said as he slapped a hand on England's mouth.
England looked at France in confusion, then back at America, now seeing his twin next to him. He removed France's hand from his mouth and looked down in guilt. "I apologize Canada."
"It's fine, eh," Canada said as he walked to his seat.
"Aren't you going to apologize to Amérique as well?" France asked.
"No, that ungrateful brat insulted my magic," England refused. As the two Europeans argued, Russia entered the room and began walking toward Canada.
'No no no no no no,' Canada thought as Russia stopped in front of him and sat on the Canadian and his bear. "M-Maple!"
America was just about to start the meeting, but in the corner of his eye he saw Canada struggling under the giant Russian. He just angrily exhaled, annoyed with Russia doing this again. "Russia, would you please get off Canada?"
"I am not sitting on anyone," Russia said with an innocent smile.
"I know you know he's there, you're doing this on purpose," America accused, getting more annoyed.
Russia's smile got slightly bigger. "I do not know what you mean."
America stared down the smiling Russia, before he finally got fed up. "Alright fine, have it your way," he sighed in defeat as he walked over and stood behind Russia. He then picked up Russia by the armpits and carried him to an empty seat in between Belarus and Ukraine.
All the other countries paled in horror as America carried Russia like a toddler, feeling the Russian's aura slowly begin to come out.
America set down Russia and walked over to his brother and Kumajiro to make sure they were ok.
Russia sat in his chair "kolkolkoling" as he plotted what he could do to the American. His aura now surrounding half of the table, terrifying everyone... except for one.
Russia's scheming was broken when he felt a hand grip his coat sleeve. He looked down to see Belarus looking at him with an insane Cheshire Cat grin plastered on her face. "Do not worry big brother, I will make sure that capitalist pig pays," She promised as she tightened her grip on him.
Russia began to shake in terror as he thought about what she might do. Sure, he wanted to harm the American, but he didn't want them to get tortured or murdered.
"Nyet, you are not having to do that sestra. I can be dealing with him myself," He said, trying to defuse the situation. Belarus didn't listen to him and instead stood up. Russia tried to get up and stop her, but her darkening aura made him freeze in his seat.
'How dare that gross pig treat big brother like that. How dare he lay his disgusting fingers on him. Big brother... is... mine!' Belarus thought as she pulled out a knife from under the folds of her dress and began running at America.
The girl let out a shrill shriek as she jumped at him. America turned and went wide-eyed as he saw the furious face of Belarus flying toward him. She tackled him to the ground, making America cringe as he smacked his head off the wall. The entire room was spinning and he could feel a thumping pain growing on the back of his head.
As he blinked away the dizziness, he looked up at Belarus as she lowered herself on him and put the knife to his neck. America felt himself both sweating and strangely... blushing? He could feel the raw animosity radiating from her. "Uh... B-Belarus, w-what are you doing?" He stuttered out.
"Shut up! You embarrassed big brother you bastard!" She yelled as she pulled America up by the tie and threateningly pressed the knife against his neck.
America winced as the blade cut into his neck, causing a small stream of blood to appear. Belarus gave him a crazed giggle as she watched the blood trickle down, causing America to begin shaking in fear.
America glanced past Belarus to see England nervously inching toward him, but America quickly waved them away, not wanting England to get needlessly stabbed. England hesitated, but eventually agreed to hang back.
"I-I'm sorry, but he was sitting on my brother," America defended.
"You think I care about your weak excuse of a brother? He deserves to be crushed by mine!" She taunted.
"What?" America asked, his fear beginning to dissolve.
"You heard me," She responded with an evil smirk.
She leaned down next to his ear and whispered to him, "He's a useless waste of land, it would be of much better use to big brother. Maybe when he and I become one, we'll take over your brother's land first, and leave you to watch... helplessly."
As she continued to berate him and his brother with threats and insults, America's face began to redden, the veins in his neck starting to bulge out. Belarus was relishing in his torment, failing to notice his darkening aura until she felt something poke her in the underside of the jaw.
Belarus moved back from his ear and looked down at him, eyes widening in surprise when she finally noticed his furious, snarling glare burning through her. His normally bright, sky blue eyes were now dark and hollow.
She then looked down and saw the shiny barrel of a .44 magnum pointed at her. She was left agape at the mood switch, but quickly hardened her gaze again.
America never broke eye contact as he began whispering in a terrifyingly cold tone, "You can talk all the crap you want about me, but don't you DARE... insult my brother. He's one of the most compassionate and kindest people to ever exist. And if you harm him in any way, not even big brother Russia can save you."
The tension in the room was so thick it was literally starting to suffocate the other nations. Some of the more emotional nations like Italy and Ukraine were seconds away from fainting, while even the strongest ones like Germany and Russia were slightly shaking in their seats.
"I'm not scared of you Belarus, so take your insults, take your threats, and climb the fuck back into whatever hole you came from," America hissed.
Belarus was struck speechless at that revelation, completely ignoring the insult. 'He's not scared? No... it's just a bluff... but is it?' She was mentally stuck, too trapped in her thoughts to move or speak.
America gave a cocky grin at her puzzled expression. "What's wrong? Is the big, strong Belarus seriously this powerless against someone she can't scare away?"
Belarus gave him a death stare and gritted her teeth as she tightly gripped her knife, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. Huh?!... America was taken back when he saw the corner of her eyes begin to fill with water. "Shut up!!" She screamed as she raised the knife above her head and brought it down.
America instinctively dropped his gun and put his hands in front of his face, squeezing his eyes closed and releasing a pained grunt as he felt the knife impale one of his palms. He opened his eyes as he felt something dripping onto his nose, seeing the bloody point of her knife about an inch away from his glasses.
Germany instantly shot up from his seat to stop the fight, but stopped when a metal pipe blocked his path. Germany looked over to chew out Russia, but stopped when he saw that Russia was keeping his gaze on the fight.
"If it is getting the too serious, I will step in, but for now just be sitting back," Russia promised. Germany tried to push past, but Russia refused to budge, so he eventually agreed to stay put.
America closed his hand into a fist and slowly pushed her knife away from his face, showing the infuriated Belarusian on the other side. Before he could speak, Belarus moved her other hand to her garter and pulled out another knife. But as she was about to bring it down, America put his free hand to her waist and shoved her off.
America sat up and grabbed the handle of the knife, cringing as he yanked it out of his hand.
He looked up to where he expected to see Belarus on the floor, but instead saw a hole in the wall across the room.
"Oh shit," he said to himself as he stood up. He tried to walk to the hole to help her, but was stopped when a pipe connected with his stomach.
America fell to his knees and tightly clutched his stomach, gasping as he tried to regain the air that was knocked out of him. Russia stood over him and looked down with a crushing aura of rage.
"I wanted to watch for longer, but you hurt my little sestra, so now I pound your face to dust," Russia hissed as he raised the pipe above his head, ready to execute the American. "S-She started it," America wheezed out.
As Russia began bringing the pipe down, his arm was caught by Germany. "Don't," he said.
America slowly began to regain his breath, but choked on his air again as he narrowly dodged a flying knife. He looked behind him to the knife sticking in the wall, then forward again to see a bruised Belarus standing in the hole, her hand still in the position of having just thrown the knife. "You... will pay for that."
As she began stomping toward him, America gripped the bloody knife and stood up, ready for round two. As they were about to clash, a voice interrupted them. "Zhat is quite enough! Now stop zhis foolishness and hand over zhe veapons."
Both nations turned to look at the source of the noise, seeing Germany advancing toward them. He then held out his hand to the two, demanding they hand him the weapons.
America reluctantly handed Germany the knife, but Belarus just clutched her knife to her chest, not wanting to give it up. "Hand it over sestra," Russia said. Belarus hesitated but eventually gave in and shoved the knife to Germany, not able to refuse her brother.
Germany looked at the two dejected nations a couple times then narrowed his eyes.
"All of zhem."
Both nations looked up at Germany, then gave simultaneous groans as they dug into their clothes. Belarus pulled out various knifes from her shoes, dress, and sleeves. America took out a bowie knife, brass knuckles, a desert eagle, and various parts of a rifle.
All the nations watched in both awe and horror as the weapons piled up... even Switzerland was impressed. After they gave up all their weapons, Germany was struggling to carry the giant mound of guns and knives.
"V-Ve vill meet b-back here in ten minutes, m-meeting dismissed." And with that, the nations began walking out of the meeting.
America walked over to the wall and looked for his gun, but when he couldn't find it he assumed Germany already confiscated it. He then spun on his heel and walked to the exit, but stopped when he spotted Belarus standing in front of him. America glared down at her, already preparing to fight again.
Belarus looked up and down at America, smirking at the blood on his hand and neck. "Those wounds must hurt, da?"
"These are nothing, I'm just surprised you could get up so fast from being thrown into a wall," America complimented as he smirked back at her.
"I'm not as weak as you think."
"I can see that, I'm impressed."
"..."
"..."
"What?" Belarus asked, confused at America's staring. "Nothing, it's just been forever since we've actually talked y'know? I mean, we haven't hung out since the 90s," he said as he grinned at her.
Belarus was momentarily stumped by the complete 180 of his attitude, but just huffed and crossed her arms. "I have better things to do than hang out with a gross pig like you."
"Aww, don't be such a bummer," He said as he poked her in the nose. Belarus angrily swatted his finger away and opened her mouth to shout at him. "We can go buy knives and stuff, it'll be fun!" He interrupted as he gave her a thumbs up.
America watched in amusement as Belarus' eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she contemplated his request. "N-No... We were just fighting, you humiliated big brother!"
"And you threatened mine," he responded. "I'll admit that I'm still upset about it, but I understand that we're just two people that are protective of their older brothers. So let's just bury the hatchet, I already have enough enemies to deal with."
Belarus looked at him dumbfounded, "that was... surprisingly mature of you...
b-but I'm still not going to hang out with you!"
"Fine, then I'll just have to bring out the secret weapon," America said as he let his smile drop. What?? Belarus looked at him, completely lost as to what he was going to do.
America slowly removed his glasses and closed his eyes as he leaned down to the same level as her, their noses centimeters away from touching. Belarus quickly arched away from him, ready to hit him for his sudden advance, but froze when he opened those sky blue eyes.
They were bigger and brighter than any pair of eyes she had ever seen, she swore she could see stars in them. America then knitted his eyebrows together and placed his hands on her her upper arms, causing her to flinch at the sudden contact.
"Please, Bela."
Those two simple words sent an intense shockwave of warmth flowing through her body, all of it traveling up and pooling in her face. The feeling perplexed her, she's never felt something like this before, and that left her completely speechless.
"I..uh...ny-yuh huh..." she stammered out. The two stared at each other in silence for a couple seconds, before America blinked, instantly going back to normal. "Cool, so how does after the meeting sound?" He requested as he let go of her and put on his glasses.
"Huh?" Belarus asked, still staring deep into his eyes. 'Jeez, I guess I went a little overboard with the puppy dog eyes,' America chuckled to himself.
England walked into the meeting room and looked at the two nations still staring at each other. "You two better not be fighting again, we have a meeting to get back to."
"Chill out Iggy, we were just talking," America sighed as he walked past Belarus and went to his seat.
As America's eyes left her own, Belarus snapped back to reality and looked around to find where he went, seeing that he was sitting down and England had now entered the room. Belarus silently walked to her seat and sat down, looking at the floor as she tried her hardest to stop the vigorous burning in her cheeks.
'What the hell is this, this... warmth..?' She thought to herself. She clenched the folds of her dress, desperately wanting this feeling to go away. It didn't feel bad... it was just so foreign and new... and that frightened her.
As she finally began to calm down, the rest of the nations reentered the meeting room, with Canada bringing bandages for America. As he took off America's glove and wrapped the bandages around his hand, America could only think about the bizarre experience with Belarus.
As much as it sucked getting a knife through the hand, he had to admit that the thrill felt amazing. He glanced up at Belarus, who had moved her attention from the floor to attentively watch the next person presenting, which of course was Russia.
America studied her features, her elegant face with its perfectly smooth, pale skin. The bruises and cuts on her face doing nothing to take away from her beauty. In a way... it actually made her more beautiful. Not the thought of her being hurt, but the fact that she was completely unfazed from being thrown through a wall. As the strongest nation, America couldn't help but admire strength... especially if that strength comes from a person that could easily be perceived as weak or frail.
A pretty girl that's also a badass? That definitely wins points for what America finds attractive. The strongest nation as well as the strongest female... that's a literal power couple.
'What am I thinking? This is Belarus... she's related to the commie, and is completely psycho when she's clingy. Though she is pretty badass... and can be cool to be around... and hot... and- "What are you doing?" A voice whispered to him.
America looked to his right to see Canada staring at him suspiciously. "'Shit!' Uhm... w-what do you mean?" He asked. Canada just looked through him, "You know exactly what I mean, you've been staring at Belarus for the past 5 minutes. You better not be planning on getting in another fight."
"Of course not dude, I was just spacing out is all," America excused. Canada didn't believe that for a second, but decided to drop it for now.
The rest of the meeting went by without interruption, much to the joy of Germany. Eventually they called a break for lunch, so all the nations got up and began leaving the room. But as America was about to exit as well, a hand caught him by the collar of his jacket and yanked him back in.
"Oh, no! You are not getting out of this, you need a reminder on how to properly act like a true gentleman," England said as he pulled America back to his seat.
"Mattie, bro... you gotta help me!" America pleaded. Canada just smirked at him and walked out of the room. "Sorry Al."
"I should've let Russia sit on you!" America shouted at the Canadian as he disappeared from the doorway, leaving him to his fate.
