Hetalia Fanfic! If you don't get the title, it's a song: .com/watch?v=5GycBnxfsKg Yes it's a fail song. But whatevs. XP

Hetalia= Not mine! Rarr!

A/N: It might be useful to have a tab with all the state nicknames open while you read this. The names on the doors are the nicknames.

EDIT: Apologies to those citizens of states that do not appear. I'm going to try to write some state-centric onshots in the future to include everyone, but I'm not sure when I'll get around to it...in the meantime, if you have ideas for a state character who doesn't show up, please message them to me! ^^


Ring. Ring.

Uh. What time is it? No, scratch that; I don't want to know.

England fumbled for the phone beside his bed. "'ullo?" he said into it, groggily.

"England! Hi!"

Uhg. America.

"America…"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know what time it is?"

"Urm…lesse…about seven in the afternoon, I think."

"Tell me something else. Have you ever heard of something called THE GODDAMNED TIME DIFFERENCE???" England screamed into the receiver. There was silence for a minute, then America said, "Er, yeah…doesn't that mean it's not seven at your place or something?"

"YOU BLOODY GIT! IT'S F***ING MIDNIGHT! ARE YOU REALLY THAT STUPID, OR ARE YOU JUST PRETENDING?"

Silence. "Oh, erm, sorry." America sounded abashed. England felt mollified. He rubbed his head. His initial just-woke-up screaming fit was wearing down, and he was actually quite cordial when he asked, "Well, I'm up now. What do you want?"

America perked up. "Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to come over and see this new probe I'm building to send to the moon. It's kinda neat, and it'll totally beat Russia!"

England yawned. "Aren't you over that little dispute? He got into space first; you got on the moon first. Can't you drop it?"

"Never! I must forge on to beat that Commie rat!"

"Uh-huh. Well, I'll come over, but not now. I gotta…sleep…" he yawned wider.

"Promise?"

The word was playfully said, but it struck a chord somewhere. 'Promise' was a word that America had used a lot before…well, let's leave it at that England had a lot of broken promises tied up somewhere. But, he thought, angrily, America had broken the biggest promise of all; he had separated from England.

"…yeah, I promise."

"Okay! I gottit! See ya, England!" A click, and America hung up.

England rolled his eyes and, smiling slightly, fell back onto his pillow and into sleep.

***

The next morning, England woke up, got up, sat up, ate up, and suddenly remembered the phone call. He groaned and said, out loud, "Annoying little git," but got up and made himself presentable. Not that America seemed to care. His entire country was full of weird looking people.

England straightened his tie and left his house. He locked the door securely; he didn't want France creeping in and wrecking havoc while he was gone. He got into his car and drove off to the west.

America's house loomed in the distance. England drove up the sparkling drive, ignoring the beastly statue of a lady waving a torch by the side. He didn't know why America kept that crazy thing from France; it was rather intimidating, though he knew that hundreds of immigrants had seen it as a symbol of hope.

He parked and went up to the door. He took hold of the big brass knocker (in the shape of an eagle, of course) and banged on the door. Soon it opened, to the nervous looking face of a country that, at first glance, appeared to be America, but, at closer inspection, proved to be another country altogether.

"Hello…"

"Erm, hi…" England tried to remember who the heck this guy was, but it escaped him. "Uh, you're…?"

"Canada…America is in the study if you're looking for him…I'm just leaving…" The man slipped out and seemed to disappear. England blinked a few times, and then shrugged. He entered, closing the door behind him.

He found himself in a long hallway, walls plastered with pictures and posters. England was pleased to see a British Invasion band- The Beatles- featured in a huge framed poster from their performance at Shea Stadium. He walked down and found himself at the end of the hall. Around him were several doors. England was flummoxed. Only then did he realize that he had no clue where America's study was. He should have asked that guy Canada to show him; he had seemed to know his way around.

England reached for the nearest door, noting briefly the flag motif wood burned into it. Hey, it had to get him somewhere…

He entered into another long hallway, even longer than the first. There had to be at least fifty doors leading off of it! He walked cautiously down, looking for a America. As he passed a darkened alcove, he saw something flash, then suddenly found himself flat on his back, a tall gangly teen on his chest. The teen boy scrutinized him. England spluttered. "Wha-"

"CALIFORNIA! I GOT ONE!"

A slender blonde girl poked her head out of a door. "Nice!" she strolled over to England struggling on the floor. "Hi there. Now, I'm sure you won't mind…" she stuck a hand in England's pocket and extracted his wallet. She opened it and whistled. "Whoa, you're rich!"

The boy grinned. "A rich visitor is what we like,"

"Yeah, great job Nevada. Come on."

The two teenagers slipped away into the room from which the girl, California, had appeared.

England sat up, feeling woozy. Had he seriously just been jumped by two teens? He, England, greatest former delinquent of all time? Who had conquered half the world? Who had had colonies everywhere until…

Oh. Right. His downfall had been at the hands of a bunch of teenagers. Damn it!

He stood and brushed himself down. Then he continued, warily. As he passed a door marked 'BAY STATE' it swung open violently and a black haired teen boy went flying across the hall in front of him.

"THAT'S FO' LAST YEAR YOU BASTARD!"

The boy immediately sprung up and made a rude gesture to the open door. "Nah, sucks to be you! Loser!"

A whirlwind of color flew out of the door and leapt on the boy. A brawl ensued. England watched on, stunned. Suddenly, the fighting forms noticed him. The boy was gripping the collar of a short, frazzled looking girl with spiky blonde curls in every direction. They turned slowly to look at him. "Whatcha looking at?" growled the girl. Suddenly, there was a glimmer of recognition in her eyes. England felt a sinking in his stomach. Now he felt like he recognized her, too.

She narrowed her eyes. "Hey…"

Gulp.

"You're the guy who put a tax on tea!"

Ahhh. Now England knew. "Um, Massachusetts?"

It had been a couple hundred years. Last time he had seen her she had been strictly religious, wearing a long dress, and burning British importers' warehouses with a rifle in her hands, but the principal was the same. Boston was a riotous place. He inched away a bit.

The boy was looking at him curiously. "Oh yeah…I remember you…"

Massachusetts wound back her fist. England flinched. But she drove it straight into the boy's nose.

"OW!"

"Alright, New York, you dumbass! Tea bastard aside, I gotta kill you!"

England tried to understand what was going on.

New York stuck out his tongue. "Your team sucks! Nah!"

Massachusetts went at him. England tried to understand what she was shrieking, but her strange habit of dropping her 'r's made it difficult.

"Don't mind them…" a quiet voice said, causing England to jump. He spun around to see a small grey haired boy standing behind him looking at the fighting states with detached interest. "They get far too worked up about this."

"About…what?"

"Baseball, of course."

England wrinkled his nose in disbelief. The boy grinned. "I see you don't get it. The legendary rivalry; the Red Sox and the Yankees? You don't know?"

"Who are you?"

"Maine. I'm Massachusetts's little brother." When England still looked confused, Maine added, "you're England, right? I kinda remember seeing you…a while back. But I broke away from Massachusetts to become my own state. I think I was still sharing a room with her when you came over here a lot. It was kinda hard…Massachusetts is a sorta overbearing person."

England didn't doubt it. She had caused a hell of a lot of trouble for him.

"We might wanna move…if they really get into it, they'll start breaking things." Maine took England's hand a pulled him away. "They get into fights a lot…but they really love each other inside."

Watching New York sock Massachusetts in the jaw, England found this hard to believe.

Maine opened a door bearing the words 'PINE TREE STATE' and slid inside. He peeked out at England. "I think America is in his study if you want him," he said, quietly. "The study is at the end of the hall. Be careful going through."

England sighed. He took Maine's words to heart.

But he needed to get through the brawling baseball fanatics to get there. He took a running start and dashed by, leaping over New York as he flipped backwards. England slowed as he passed them, breathing hard. Dear god, he wasn't getting old, was he? He began down the looooooong hall again. As he passed another alcove, he noticed a small armchair. And, sitting in the armchair was…

England nearly jumped out of his skin. "AHHHH!"

An exact replica of Russia was sitting in the chair, reading a book. But…what was this?

She looked up, irritated. "Please don't yell. I'm reading."

"Ru-Russia?"

"No! I'm Alaska!" the girl looked upset. "Don't talk about Russia!"

A small, slender girl wearing a long grass skirt seemed to materialize. "Are you picking on Alaska?" she asked, bluntly.

"No! She just looks like…someone I know."

"Russia? Don't talk to Alaska about Russia! After America brought her here from Russia she doesn't like to talk about Russia!" the girl said, fiercely.

England backed away. Were all of America's states insane? "O-okay…"

The grass skirted girl patted Alaska on the back. "We off-continental states gotta stick together," she said firmly. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Erm…England…"

"Hawaii. Nice to meet you." Hawaii twirled a little. "Are you looking for America? I think he's in his study." She pointed. "It's down there. Oh, and look out for Massachusetts and New York. The Red Sox were just eliminated from this year's championship, and New York is teasing her mercilessly."

Teasing wasn't quite the word England would have picked, but…

He nodded. "Yes, thank you." Hawaii waved cheerily as he moved on.

As he passed a door labeled 'KEYSTONE STATE', it opened, and Massachusetts, New York, and a few other states exited. England jumped. How did they get there…? These rooms must be connected somehow. A tall, bespectacled young man with sandy hair was yelling at Massachusetts and New York. "You have to get along! Stop fighting!"

Massachusetts glared at New York. "He started it," she said, grumpily.

"I don't care who started it!"

"Drop it, Pennsylvania! You don't understand how important this is to us!"

A small brown haired boy suddenly glanced up and caught England's eye. His face went red. "IT'S THE TAX BITCH!"

The entire group spun around. Massachusetts gasped. "That's right! He was lurking around here earlier! Quick; call the rest of the thirteen! We have business to attend to!"

Pennsylvania sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Um, Massachusetts? Technically we're not at war anymore, so…"

"Who the hell cares?"

"What's going on?" A tall girl with curly black hair poked her head around the door. "What are you yawlin' about now?"

The small boy who had so kindly dubbed England 'tax bitch' spoke. "He's going to try to reclaim his empire, Georgia! Get him!"

"Okay, let's not be hasty, Vermont," said a tall skinny boy emerging from a door down the hall marked 'FIRST STATE'. "We should see if he's really here to attack, shouldn't we?"

Vermont scoffed. "You were always so cautious, Delaware. New Jersey would be ashamed if he could see you now…"

"I am ashamed."

"Oh, hi."

"What's this? England? I haven't seen him since…erm…well, a long time."

England found his voice. "I'm not here to fight, you know,"

"Likely story!" Vermont jeered. "We didn't fall for that one in '75 and we won't fall for it again!"

"1975? We were at war with England in 1975? All I can remember is them wanting the Beatles back."

"1775, you idiot, New York! 1775!"

"But I'm really not here to fight! I just want to see America!"

New Jersey yawned. "It appears he speaks the truth,"

"What!? You believe him? Someone get Virginia; she knows the tea bastard the best!"

"Virginia's sleeping," said two voices in unison.

"Hi Carolina. Hi Carolina."

The twins nodded. "But Maryland's here."

"Maryland! This guy says he doesn't want to fight!"

"Um…okay…what's going on?"

"WELL IF THE TAXING ONE WON'T FIGHT, I'LL JUST TURN BACK TO YOU, NEW YORK!"

"Ah! Get them away from each other! Pennsylvania!"

England rolled his eyes. "If you can't even get along, how can you even think about attacking me?"

Vermont shrugged. "I dunno- oh hey, there's Rhode Island!"

A short boy rubbed his eyes, emerging from the room marked 'OCEAN STATE'. "You loud bitches woke me up," he growled.

Everyone froze. "Oh," Delaware said, lamely, "sorry…"

Rhode Island looked blackly at them all. "Feel lucky Connecticut didn't wake up. She'll be mad as hell." He glowered around, ignored England, and went back into his room.

Everyone was silent. Then Massachusetts whispered, "Why is it the little ones that are the scariest?"

No one could offer an answer.

She twisted back to England. "And you…well…all I can say is-"

"Are you still mad at England?" came a drawling voice. "That's ancient history, Massachusetts, can't you let it be?" A tall Spanish looking boy was lounging against a wall. Massachusetts growled at him. "Stay out of this, Puerto Rico, you weren't even there!"

"No," the boy admitted, "But I was hanging around with that idiot Spain, which was worse."

"Go away. You're not even a state!"

"I'm a Commonwealth."

"'Puerto Rico, my heart's devotion! I'd let it sink back into the ocean!'" trilled Massachusetts.

"Enough with the West Side Story, Massachusetts."

"Is Massachusetts really singing? Is this the apocalypse?"

"Shut up, Vermont."

England chuckled. "I liked that musical."

"See? He liked it!"

"Not sung by you, he didn't,"

England could sense that the arguing states weren't going to stop anytime soon, especially when the missing member of the original thirteen, New Hampshire, appeared and began picking on Vermont. He crept away, rightfully guessing that he wouldn't be missed until Massachusetts stopped singing show tunes and the Carolinas stopped speaking in unison.

He sidled off, chuckling a little sadly. They really hadn't changed; his old colonies. He was rather pleased, actually, to see they were doing so well. But it still hurt, oh yes, that broken promise still hurt. He smiled mournfully and reached out for the door at the end of the hall. The study. Finally. He knocked, and almost immediately the door was flung open. "England! You're so late! I thought you weren't coming!" He looked anxiously at the blond.

England laughed. "You stupid git. Of course I came. I promised, remember?" he sighed a little. "I ran into trouble with your…states. They're rather rowdy, aren't they?"

America grinned and took an affectionate bite from a hamburger he was clutching. "Lovable little buggers, ain't em?"

"Erm…sure…"

"I hope you didn't run into Massachusetts and New York. They've been squabbling all day. Sox are out of the Series, you know."

England nodded, yes, he did know.

"Well, come on in! Look at these designs; they're so kickass!"

"Um, America? Is the giant screaming eagle motif really necessary?"

"Of course! I'm the hero; I need to make a statement!"

England covered up his smile. Some things never change.


And yes, California and Nevada never did give England back his wallet...;_;