I'm actually on a roll writing! What is this!?

I saw the pairing of Turkey/Canada in the Hetalia Kink Meme forms and I fell in love with the pairing. But there were no pairings of it on here. So I thought I would try my hand on it. I'm going to try and write the chapters at least once every 2 weeks, but between school and theatre, I can't promise anything.

Here is the first chapter of Northern Lights:

Another damn world meeting. Turkey sighed, listening as the United States gave the most ridiculous closing speech about how the zombie apocalypse was on its way, and the world needed to prepare. What was the world coming to? Once mighty empires whose very names struck fear into the heart of the masses now bent to these new, upstart whelps who had the audacity to call themselves superpowers. Back when he was the Ottoman Empire…

That thought hurt. Turkey was getting old, sounding like his old friend the Roman Empire. Turkey had been lucky. Playing his cards right, he hadn't died like Rome and Germania and persevered on. But to what? To a life with little power where his fellow nation people tiptoed around him afraid to trigger an anger they had heard about from legends? To a lonely world where his only real friends were still hundreds of years younger than him? He shook off the thoughts. As America rambled on about how giant robots were necessary to fighting the zombies, Turkey deep down mused about death just to get relief from that annoying voice.

Finally, Germany closed the meeting, and the countries stretched and groaned out their relief to escape their stiff chairs. As Turkey scratched the back of his head and gathered up his papers, Egypt appeared at his side.

"Dinner?" Turkey asked receiving a head nod from his tired looking friend. Strolling down the hallway, Turkey glared at the back of Greece's head. The kid walked with a blushing Japan, who fussed over them holding hands in public. How did that stupid brat manage to get a respectable nation like Japan as a companion? Turkey fought back an audible moan.

"It's the cats," Egypt commented offhandedly.

"I swear you can read my mind," Turkey chuckled.

Suddenly, something slammed into Turkey. He stopped unphased and glanced forward. Nothing there.

"Ow…"

Looking down, he rolled his eyes. Oh great. It was America.

"Maple…"

A soft spoken America.

"Canada!" Egypt knelt beside him, "Are you alright?"

Canada? Oh yeah. The other America.

The Canadian lifted his eyes up, and Turkey stepped back as the air clung to his throat. Vibrant, violet eyes that seemed to hold the entirety of the Northern Lights met dark, chocolate ones. For the first time in years, Turkey was unsure what to say.

"Well don't help him up!" Egypt protested, pulling the young man to his feet.

Canada smiled uneasily at Turkey. Great, there was that fear. "It's alright," he spoke so softly, that Turkey leaned in to hear, "I wasn't watching where I was going. I didn't see him there."

"The guy is huge," Egypt smirked, finding the irony in the usually invisible's man's statement.

Shifting his bag slung on his shoulder, Canada said, "Pardon me, I have to run- Oh! Egypt. We're still meeting in two weeks, right?"

He nodded, "Yes, unless you need to switch to another day."

Canada shook his head, and Turkey noticed the young man's hair shifted hue slightly in the light, "No, I just need to pack accordingly. It's been awhile since I've been to Egypt. I'm looking forward to it."

"As am I," Egypt and Canada shook hands, "Until then."

"You too."

Before Turkey could speak, the blonde sprinted away. He rolled his eyes at how every situation since the fall of his empire slipped through his fingers. Glancing at Egypt, he raised an eyebrow at his glaring friend, "What?"

"You could have at least apologized. He's a very nice, young man. Kind with good manners, unlike you."

"Sorry," Turkey dropped his eyes to the floor unsure what else to say. Blinking, he spotted a wallet laying on the floor. Flipping it open, it read 'Matthew Williams: Canada.' A second chance.

Turkey flipped it closed and waved off Egypt, "I'm going to give this back. Meet you soon, okay? And stop looking at me like that! I'll apologize! Damn…"

Egypt shook his head with an accompanied eye roll and hustled to catch up with Greece and Japan.

Wandering the halls for several minutes, Turkey heard loud, annoying arguing coming from the meeting room. Peaking in the cracked open door, he saw England and France at each other's throats while America and—there he was!—Canada tried to pull their father figures apart.

Turkey started in silence and watched the Canadian. As a teenager, he heard tales from the North about the Northern Lights. Only once did the chance to see them come up when they had the world meeting at Russia's house. Every nation in the world paused and hurried outside to stare up into the abyss above them, peace and silence settling among them. Every splash of color took Turkey's breath away, electrifying him with a renew hope that there was more to this world than wars, falling cities, global warming, and what he once had. Peace.

Watching the Canadian, those eyes now filled with worry as France swung a fist at England, that same feeling stirred deep in Turkey once more. But why? In his long life, he had met millions of people, had hundreds of relationships, and never once had ever fathomed the possibility that there was a being on Earth like the man before him. Turkey pursed his lips, hating the feelings. No way would he be the Romantic nation that would fall for love at first sight— although attraction at first sight described the situation much better.

As the fight began to calm, England and France spat out their last insults and straightened their clothes, America and Canada released the breaths they held. Their father figures finally begrudgingly expressed their apologies to one another. Now was the time. Turkey rapped gently on the door, his stomach twisting as the family glanced at him, and he pushed open the door the rest of the way.

A moment of awkward silence fell among them before France spoke, "Hello Turkey. Do you need something?"

Licking his lips that he hadn't realized had become so dry, Turkey approached Canada and ignored the rest. They weren't important in this moment. In fact, he never thought the American was important to begin with. Holding out the wallet, Turkey spoke quietly through buttoned lips, "Here. You dropped this in the hallway."

"Eh!?" Canada's eyes widened and patted his back pocket to double check it was his wallet, "I didn't realize that I even dropped it. Thank you, Mr. Turkey." The young man beamed up to him, those damn eyes forcing the once Empire to falter his speech once more.

Watching the Canadian slide the wallet away into his bag, Turkey willed himself to speak, but no words came out. This was ridiculous! He was the Ottoman Empire! There was no way that some kid could do this to him. This kid—no man… something was off about him. He was too…something he couldn't put his finger on. Did he have magic like England? Shooting a glance at the bushy eyebrow nation, Turkey doubted it. His obviously got his beauty from France, though Turkey stopped pandering to France's urges centuries ago. It was something he couldn't quite put it finger on, bubbling frustration and anger deep in his core. Turkey hated not knowing.

America scoffed and rolled his eyes, draping his arm around Canada's shoulder, "Is that it? Well then time to eat! Come on Iggy! Francis! Mattie!" As he drug the Canadian away, France and England followed muttering their goodbyes to Turkey.

That was it? He chickened out that easily? Turkey gritted and spun around booming out, "CANADA!"

The family stop shocked at the action. Only a moment later England and France, knowing the wrath the Turk possessed, stepped in front of their colonies.

"I don't like your tone," England crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, "You can answer to us. What is it that you want?"

"My business isn't with you," the Turk growled back advancing a few steps, "I would like to speak with the Canadian."

"No. Not like that," France spoke calmly, though he bent his knees ready to spring in action, "You will not talk to my son with so much anger until-"

"Stop it!" Canada pulled away from America, stepping between England, France, and Turkey, "I'm an adult. I can address this myself."

England held up a protesting hand, but Canada turned away from him and smiled up to the Turk. Instantly, all the frustration seeped from him where he couldn't quite remember why he had gotten so angry in the first place. Canada nodded urging him to speak, "Yes?"

Turkey glanced over the young man's shoulder at the three observing nations, ready to release everything from tanks to atomic warfare on the Turk if he misspoke. Undeterred, Turkey returned his eyes back to the vibrant ones before him.

"I'm… sorry… for running into you earlier," he spoke softly, hoping that the others couldn't hear him, though knowing full well they could, "I hope I didn't hurt you."

Blinking for several moments, Turkey chuckled at the flares of pink that tainted the Canadian's white cheeks. Good. Turkey still had that effect on people. He wasn't too old yet!

Canada smiled wider, relief settling into his features, "It's alright. I'm sorry too! Like I said, I didn't see you. I guess I owe you, eh?"

"Eh!?" the four other nations gawked at the young man.

Turkey cocked his head, "For what?"

Canada shifted in his spot, nerves slipping into the edge of his features, "For potentially hurting you and for returning my wallet. I owe you, Mr.-"

"Just call me Turkey."

"Turkey," nodded the young man, "I'm indebted to you. How can I repay you?"

"I don't want your money."

"I'm not buying you off. I'm giving my thanks."

"I don't want it."

"But-"

America butted in, like usual, "Matt, let it go. He doesn't want it. Come on, we need to go eat before the next session." Turkey met America's eyes, exchanging quick glares. Obviously, America didn't appreciate his brother chatting up the big bad Turk.

Canada finally resolved himself and held out his hand, his soft grin full of thanks. Turkey eyed it for a moment before grasping the pale, smooth hand. His calloused fingers nearly wrapped the full width around the young man's palm, and suddenly, Turkey felt it: the same jolt that he experienced several minutes ago when he first truly looked into the eyes of the Canadian. The electric essence was uncanny to earlier, and he was at ease.

As their hands slid apart and the other nations drug the Canadian from the room, Turkey couldn't help but to wonder once more what about the young man was so damn intriguing. Looking to the floor, he frowned half hoping there would be a wallet waiting for him to retrieve it once again. Shaking of the feelings, he sauntered far behind the family towards the dining area. He was getting too old for this.

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