Okay, so, this is the idea that I brought up a while ago about the children of the nations. It's kind of been at the back of my mind for a while now, and... yeah, so, I just figured I'd give it a try, da? So... love it? Hate it? Review, and tell me what you think!
Also, obviously there is implied m-preg in this fic. Don't like, don't read, that's all I'm saying, okay? :-) Review, please!
"Ve~! Cisco! Please stay still for a minute!" Italy called after the giggling brown-haired toddler, a slightly wrinkled blue pajama top clutched in his hands.
The two-year-old giggled again and glanced over his shoulder at his mother before continuing to stumble into the living room. Germany looked up as his son entered, his arm still wrapped loosely around the young boy's twin.
"Feliciano, why is Francisco shirtless?" he asked flatly.
Italy pouted and stopped in the doorway to catch his breath, his hazel eyes following Francisco as the boy clambered up onto the couch beside his brother. Magnus watched his twin calmly and shifted to the side to make room for the other boy, his tiny auburn curl bobbing in time with Francisco's identical curl.
Ludwig's lips twitched upwards into a small smile at the sight of the twins, his blue eyes tightening as two pairs of brilliant azure eyes glanced up at him expectantly. He hesitated and glanced over at Feliciano, his eyes narrowing when he saw that the Italian was laughing.
"What do they want?" he asked warily.
"Ve~ I don't know," Italy replied sweetly. "Why don't you ask them?"
Germany frowned again and glanced back down at his sons, wondering how exactly he was supposed to ask the two-year-old twins to explain what they wanted. As if on cue, Magnus magically produced a book from behind his back and wordlessly held it out to his father, his blue eyes glittering with hopefulness. Ludwig sighed and reached out to pick up the book, his lips twitching back into a smile when he saw that it was a copy of Grimm's fairytales.
"Alright," he chuckled. "But only one story. The others will be coming soon."
The twins nodded as if they understood and settled into the cushions of the couch, their gazes locked intently on the German as he began to read. Italy chuckled and slipped quietly out of the room into the kitchen, mentally going through the types of pasta that he could make. Prussia was already in the room, his white head supported on his hand as he glared at the insanely-clean table.
"I can't believe I'm going to be stuck here for a whole day with these damn kids," he groaned.
Italy giggled and ruffled the albino's hair.
"Ve~ But you like our kids, don't you Gilbert?" he asked, his eyes widening into his classic puppy-dog look.
Gilbert just groaned and slammed his head into the table, trying to ignore the Italian's whining. It was bad enough he had to deal with eight kids for about 24 hours...
Ever since several of the nations had begun having children with each other, it had become more and more difficult to organize world meetings. Between the pregnancy itself and the struggle to find someone to watch the young children...
Prussia still had no idea how he had gotten stuck with the task of watching the eight children of the nations. Sure, he wasn't technically a country but he was still awesome! How the hell could anyone think that they could have a meeting without him? He blamed West... If Ludwig hadn't let Feliciano volunteer him for babysitting duty...
The doorbell rang, causing a devastated groan to break through the Prussian's lips. Italy gave a pleased "Ve~" and skipped towards the front door, his face breaking into an excited grin when he saw Japan and Greece waiting patiently at the other end of the door.
"Ve~ Buongiorno, Kiku!" he greeted cheerfully.
Japan bowed slightly, his movement slightly hindered by the sleeping three-year-old in his arms.
"Italy-san," he greeted simply. "Sumimasen, are we too early?"
Italy cheerfully shook his head and looked beyond the Japanese man to the small girl standing silently beside Greece, her tiny hand clutching the folds of his wrinkled brown shirt.
"Ve~ Is that Saichi?" he asked. "She's getting so big!"
Kiku nodded, a hint of pride flickering through his brown eyes as he glanced back at his four-year-old daughter. The girl gazed back at him calmly, her olive-green eyes unreadable beneath her short black hair. Heracles shifted tiredly beside his daughter, his identical green eyes flickering towards his slumbering son with a vague sense of nervousness.
"... Should we go inside?" he mumbled. "I don't want Achilles catching a cold..."
Japan nodded and waited for Italy to invite them inside before he carried the boy into the house, his hands brushing gently against the wavy chocolate-brown locks on the top of the child's soft head. The child shifted slightly and blinked up at his mother with sleepy brown eyes before going back to sleep, earning a chuckle from the reserved Japanese man.
"Are you sure that Prussia-san will be able to handle all of them?" Japan asked uneasily. "Do you need one of us to stay here?"
"YES!" Gilbert called from the kitchen.
"No, no," Feliciano cooed, completely ignoring the albino. "It's no trouble! Ve~ Achilles is so cute, Kiku! Do you think he likes pasta? Does Saichi? Magnus and Francisco do! Ve~ what kind of pasta should I make? Macaroni? Linguine? Spaghetti?"
Japan tuned out the ranting Italian and glanced over at the blond German standing in the doorway to the living room, his twins cradled gently in each of his arms.
"Germany-san," Kiku greeted quietly.
"Japan, Greece," Germany replied with a nod.
"...Is anyone else here?" Greece mumbled.
Germany shook his head, a small frown flickering across his face when the doorbell rang again, accompanied by a loud cry of "The Hero is here!".
"Ve~! America's here!" Italy announced. The country skipped back to the front door and pulled it open, his hazel eyes widening in surprise when a girl with messy golden-blonde hair stumbled past him, followed closely by an arguing England and America.
"...I can't believe you would announce yourself like, that, wanker!" England growled. "It's just rude! I thought I raised you better, git... what kind of an example do you think this sets for our daughter?"
"Aw, relax, Iggy, you know Aly's a great kid," America laughed.
England simply rolled his eyes and glanced back down at his one-year-old daughter. Alyson smiled back, her emerald green eyes glittering with amusement. The Briton chuckled and gathered his child into his arms before looking up at the other countries in the house, his cheeks flushing a light pink in embarrassment.
"Er... my apologies for Alf- America's rude behavior," he grumbled. "And... thank you for agreeing to have our daughter in your home during the meeting."
"I was against it!" Prussia called again from the kitchen.
"Shut up, bruder," Germany called back.
America chuckled and started to close the door behind him, only to be stopped by Russia. The Russian offered the American a cool smile and stepped aside to let Canada and a small boy with light blonde hair into the house. The Canadian smiled gratefully at Ivan and offered a hesitant wave to the other countries, his slim hand clasped tightly in the young boy's grip.
"H-hello," he greeted softly. "Um... W-we brought Marc and Katerina."
"Who are you?" Italy asked, slightly confused.
"Er... so, where is your other child, Matthew?" England broke in, not really liking the dark aura that was now rising around Russia.
"I have her, da~?" Russia said sweetly. The large country pulled aside his coat to reveal a quiet baby wrapped in a bright pink parka. The infant blinked slowly up at her father with large violet eyes before settling back against his chest, causing the Russian to smile softly in response.
"Kesese~ Never knew you were such a softy, Russia," Prussia called, his silver head appearing around the entrance to the kitchen.
Russia glanced over at the Prussian, his dark aura once again rising around him.
"You will take care of Katenka and Marc, da?" he stated sweetly. "I will be... very put out if you don't~"
"Uh..." There was no way Prussia was intimidated by that, no way in hell...
"Oi! Bastardi! Open the damn door!"
"Lovi~ Please don't swear in front of Cielo!"
Feliciano beamed and yanked open the front door just as Lovino mumbled something about his son being too young to understand swear words. The elder Italian glared at his twin and stomped into the house with Spain following close behind, an olive-skinned baby cradled gently in his arms. Spain beamed at Italy and waved at the other assembled nations as he entered, earning himself a sullen glare from Romano.
"Hola, amigos!" Antonio called cheerfully. "Lo siento, are we late?"
"Nein," Germany replied wearily, his head already pounding with the beginnings of a headache. The German nation gently lowered his sons to the ground and turned to look at Prussia, who was still huddled in the doorway to the kitchen. "Bruder..."
Prussia heaved a heavy sigh and moved into the entryway, his red eyes narrowing when he caught sight of all of the kids gathered in the small hallway.
"How the hell am I supposed to take care of all of these kids?" he grumbled.
"We're not fucking happy about it either, dumb ass," Romano growled. "I swear, if mio figlio gets hurt, I'll send the mafia after your sorry ass!"
Prussia rolled his eyes, his expression changing into a grimace when he caught the other nations' expressions.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," he sighed. "You'll all murder me if anything happens to your kids."
"Oui, we will," Canada agreed, his quiet voice surprisingly strong as he tightened his grip on his son. The Canadian offered a small smile to the flustered Prussian and added "But don't worry, Gil, we trust you."
"Speak for yourself, da?" Russia grumbled. Seeing the look on his Canadian lover's face, Ivan sighed and walked forward to hand his infant daughter to the Prussian. He paused for a brief moment beside Matthew, his violet eyes softening when the blonde reached up to kiss his daughter on her forehead.
"We'll see you soon, Katerina," Canada promised quietly.
"Da," Russia agreed, his arms tightening around his youngest child for a brief moment. "Мы вернемся, малышка."
Canada bent down to pull his son into a tight hug, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips when the four-year-old snuggled deeper into his embrace.
"Soyez bon, Marc," he whispered.
Marc nodded and pressed a quick kiss to his mother's pale cheek, his violet eyes glancing over Canada's shoulder towards Russia. Russia smiled and reached down to ruffle the boy's hair, his expression soft.
Prussia simply groaned and hastily took Katerina from her father's arms, trying not to shiver at the threatening gaze the Russian was sending his way.
"We will be going now," Russia announced once he and Canada had finished saying their good-byes to their children.
"A-al?" Canada called hesitantly. "Are you and Arthur coming with us?"
America wrinkled his nose at the thought of traveling with Russia but nodded reluctantly.
"Yeah, I guess," he grumbled. The American bent down to collect his giggling daughter, his signature smile flashing across his lips. "Hey, you behave for Prussia, alright kiddo? I'll bring ya a huge hamburger when I get back."
"You will do no such thing," England growled. The Englishman gently pulled his daughter out of America's arms and pressed a hasty kiss to her forehead, his cheeks flushing again when the girl patted the top of his head. "Y-yes, well... Good-bye, poppet. We will return soon."
The good-byes continued as each of the countries said farewell to their children. Prussia struggled to hold back his laughter when Spain pulled both Romano and their son into a gentle group hug, igniting another string of swear words from the furious Italian man. Japan and Greece were more reserved, choosing instead to pull their children into quick embraces before placing them carefully next to Marc. Italy cooed over his twins and continued to ruffle their hair and promise them pasta until Germany dragged him out of the house after Japan.
Ludwig paused for a moment just outside of the door and glanced back at his older brother, a rare flash of amusement appearing in his solemn blue eyes at the sight of the Prussian surrounded by so many children.
"Viel Glück, Preußen," he called flatly.
Gilbert glared at his brother before returning his eyes to the group of kids gathered around him, his arms struggling to balance the two babies that had been placed into his arms.
"So... uh..." he mumbled, not quite sure how to begin. "I guess I just... Um... What do you guys usually do now?"
Magnus wordlessly held out the book that Germany had been reading before, his blue eyes hopeful.
"Er... bedtime stories aren't really my thing..."
"Sœur est fatigué," Marc announced, pointing at the slumbering girl in Prussia's arms. "Bed."
Prussia blinked slowly and stared down at the two babies in clutched in his hands. Right, bedtime... Now where the hell was he supposed to put them? The Prussian hesitated before walking purposefully into the living room, his scarlet gaze locking on the sofa in the center of the room. Gilbert nodded in satisfaction and dumped the two babies unceremoniously onto the nearest pillow, earning himself a disapproving glance from the two older children.
"Non bon lit," Canada's son argued.
"Kesese, it's what the awesome me's got, kid," Prussia shot back. He turned around and frowned at the other six. "Now... uh... about the rest of you..."
Francisco merely giggled and ran out of the room, a grinning Alyson stumbling close behind him. Achilles watched them go before crawling onto the couch beside the sleeping Cielo, his brown eyes closing almost immediately. Magnus merely pouted and continued to offer Prussia his storybook, his blue eyes pleading. Gilbert groaned and ran a hand through his silver hair, his red eyes narrowing at his nephew.
"I told you, neffe, I don't do stories," he grumbled.
"Uncle lesen," Magnus mumbled, his expression hardening into stubbornness. Damn, that kid looked like West...
"Look, I already told you-"
A loud scream rang through the house, cutting off the rest of Prussia's sentence. The ex-nation tensed and ran out of the room in the direction of the cry, his eyes narrowing when Marc and Magnus began to follow him.
"Stay here," he barked. "You... what's your name, Japan's kid, make sure everyone stays here."
Saichi nodded wordlessly and grabbed Marc's hand before he could leave the room. Canada's son frowned but pulled Magnus back as well, his sharp violet eyes following Gilbert as the Prussian left the room.
Prussia ran to the stairs, his scarlet eyes flickering upwards when the cry came again, only to be cut off seconds later. Gilbert snarled and hurried up the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest at the thought of what America and England would do to him if their kid got hurt on his watch... Even worse, if West's kid got hurt...
"Cisco?" Gilbert called cautiously, his hands clenching into fists when there was no response. "Uh... Alyson? Yeah, that's your name, right? You two okay?"
Prussia gritted his teeth as he reached the top of the staircase, his eyes combing the shadowed hallways for any sign of the two children. Dammit, where were they? If they were playing hide-and-seek, he was going to kill them...
Something shuffled in the darkness behind him, making the albino whirl around. Prussia's eyes narrowed when he saw two shadowy figures hidden in the corner of the hall, his gaze zeroing in on the two tiny bundles cradled carelessly in their arms.
"Hows about you two bastard give back those kids?" Prussia growled.
The two shadows were silent, their arms tightening ever-so-slightly around the two unconscious children. Prussia took a step towards them, his hand floating down to the handgun that he always kept tucked inside his belt. He froze when another yell echoed through the house, his blood running cold when he recognized the voice as Magnus's.
"Neffe..." he croaked. His eyes narrowed dangerously and he took another step forward, his lips curling away from his abnormally-sharp teeth in a feral snarl. "Ich werde dich töten, du verdammter Bastarde..."
The two figures didn't reply, only watched in silence as the albino was struck on the back of the head by a third companion.
"I told you to stand still," the third figure murmured, his gaze locked on the now-unconscious albino with disgust.
"It wasn't my fault, Randal nearly dropped Deutschland sohn," the second figure murmured in a cool feminine voice, her hands running absently through Alyson's blonde locks.
"Shut up, Gretchen," Randal snarled, his hands tightening around Francisco's small body. "We were told not to speak in our native tongues. Henry-"
"Silence," Henry snapped coolly. "We need to hurry. Have the others gathered the rest of the spawn?"
Gretchen nodded silently, her cool green eyes flickering down to the small girl in his arms. Her own daughter had looked like that...
"Gretchen." Henry waited until the woman had met his blank brown eyes before he spoke again. "Take the German spawn from Randal so that we can help the others. You and Jeanne are going to be in charge of making sure the children make no noise until the job is done."
Gretchen gulped and nodded slowly, her jaw clenching as she made room in her arms for the slumbering auburn-haired boy. She shuddered and slowly followed the two men downstairs, her feet carrying her out the now-open front door while Randal and Henry joined their companions in the eerily silent living room. She paused at the door for a moment, her eyes going to the large framed picture hanging on the wall beside the entry way. The unconscious albino stood in the back of the portrait, his pale arms wrapped tightly around a scowling blonde man's neck. Another man with auburn hair and a strange curl on the right side of his head snuggled close to the blonde man, his slim arms wrapping around the man's thick torso in a death grip. The blonde was the only one facing the camera, although his ice-blue eyes were lowered to the two brown-haired boys sitting on his lap, their identical blue eyes seeming to stare right through her, accusing her...
Gretchen shuddered and glanced down at the unconscious version of one of the boys that now rested in her arms. No, she couldn't feel guilty now... not when they were so close to the end. This was the right choice... The world didn't need such- such abominations...
Jeanne had come up behind the other woman, her own arms wrapped around two slumbering infants.
"Henry and Randal have the other four," she reported quietly.
"How- how old are those children?" Gretchen croaked.
Jeanne shrugged, her grey eyes emotionless. "Not even a year. The girl belongs to the Russia psycho."
"...And the boy?" Gretchen whispered, her eyes going unwillingly to the olive-skinned baby that was now staring up at her with brilliant amber eyes.
"The Spaniard and the smart-mouthed Italian."
"...Ah." Gretchen turned away and hurried out of the house, her shoulders shuddering with an emotion that she didn't dare name. They were so small... but they were abominations... they deserved to die... but...
"Come on," Gretchen bit out. She hurried to one of the black cars waiting patiently in the driveway, not even bothering to release the two children in her arms. Jeanne shrugged and dumped the two babies into the back, her eyes flickering over her shoulder as the others filed out of the house. Henry and Randal nodded to her and joined the group at the car. Their lips curled in distaste as soon as they had placed the remaining four children in the car.
"Filth," Randal spat. "They shouldn't even exist in this world. It's unnatural."
"Let's just get this over with," Jeanne said flatly. "Where are we dumping them?"
"The boss paid a man down by the Rhine," Henry murmured. "We just need to take the kids there and then we're done."
Gretchen shuddered, earning a disapproving glare from Randal.
"Why haven't you dropped your share of the shit?" he asked flatly.
The woman shrugged and glared back at him, her long legs taking her around to the driver's side of the car. She shifted the two children into one of her arms and deftly pulled open the door, her gaze flickering down to the kids as she lowered them into the passenger seat. Alyson shifted suddenly and blinked up at the woman, her brilliant green eyes creasing slightly in confusion. Her plump lips fell open into a tiny "o", her head cocking to the side.
It was then that Gretchen made her decision.
"Jeanne," she called quietly. "One of the children are stirring. Go get some chloroform from the other car. Henry, I need you to get another one of the blankets. I'm not going to have my mission ruined because some damn police officer decided to get curious."
Henry nodded in approval and led Jeanne to the other waiting vehicle, leaving Randal behind to watch as Gretchen slipped into the driver's seat.
"What are you doing, bitch?" Randal growled when she started up the car, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Gretchen didn't reply, merely shifted the gear into drive. Before any of her companions could make a move to stop her, her foot had slammed into the gas pedal. The car emitted a high-pitched squeal as it pealed away from the large house, leaving the shouts of Gretchen's companions behind in a flurry of powdered snow. The German woman gritted her teeth and turned the car onto the road, her eyes flickering towards the rear-view mirror every few seconds to watch for pursuers.
"Bitte, lieber Gott... lass es mich machen," she whispered.
(Japanese) Sumimasen- Excuse me/I'm sorry
(Italian) Bastardi- Bastards
(Spanish) Hola amigos! Lo siento...- Hello, friends! I'm sorry...
(Italian) mio figlio- my son
(Russian) Мы вернемся, малышка- We'll be back, little one
(French) Soyez bon- Be good
(German) Viel Glück, Preußen- Good luck, Prussia
(French) Sœur est fatigué- Sister is tired
(French) Non bon lit- Not good bed
(German) neffe- nephew
(German) Uncle, lesen- Uncle, read
(German) Ich werde dich töten, du verdammter Bastarde- I'm going to kill you, you damn bastards
(German) Deutschland sohn- Germany's son