Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine. (If it was, it'd probably suck.)

Chapter 2: Their Doom
(or the Press Conference for Aliens, Animals, Non-Humans, or Whatever the Hell They Were)

America gaped at his boss. "What?"

The President of the United States rubbed his oh-so throbbing forehead. "America – "

"But that's so boring!" he whined.

"This is a matter of international security!" the President snapped. "Who knows what might happen if some psycho maniac manages to get a hold of you?"

"I'm sure I can ward off Russia."

"You know what I mean!"

His shoulders slumped. "I totally understand the whole going into hiding thing, but no communication with the others? Really?"

"Your conversations might get tapped."

"The media won't go that far."

"Cue the psycho maniac." The President sighed. "Look, you'll have plenty of things to do in the bunker. You can bring all your video games with you – "

"Oh, why didn't you say so?" America grinned. "Alaska, here I come!" He ran out of the Oval Office, not noticing his boss give a silent thanks to God.

"Haha! Take that, Heartless bastards!"

America was lying down on one of the only beds in the bunker, playing on his brand new 3DS. As of now, he was somewhere under Alaska, but he didn't particularly care where he was as long as he didn't get bored. He hoped Tony had gotten his message; the last thing everyone needed was for the press to learn about the illegal alien he had been hiding in his basement. Ha, that sounded like a cliché movie plot...

His phone rang. He grinned and picked it up. "Estonia?"

"Reception has been established."

He laughed. "Thanks so much, dude!"

"My pleasure. Latvia, Lithuania, Ukraine, Russia and Belarus are already on."

A couple of years ago, Russia found a secret location to hide from Belarus. It only lasted for a month, but it was the most peaceful month he had ever had. Meanwhile, Belarus had gone on a rampage, threatening to murder the nation who "kidnapped" her brother. Needless to say, everyone was terrified of the Belarusian and also went into hiding, but not before receiving a special phone from Estonia so they could communicate with each other secretly and without Belarus's knowledge. Little known fact: she was one hell of a technician.

Now Estonia had reactivated their phones, with Russia and Belarus as their newest additions.

Of course, their bosses were completely unaware. Nation business was nation business.

America saved his game and thumbed the code for the secret connection: 1E2S6T1O9N2I1A

"... Mr. America?"

"Lithuania! Long time no see! Or talk, I guess."

"... Ah, it seems America has joined us."

"Don't be so enthusiastic, Commie."

"Be polite, America," said a new voice.


"Yes." America could almost picture him rolling his eyes.

"You're not actually defending Commie, are you?"

"It seems he is." Russia sounded amused.

France's voice resounded from the speaker. "What is who doing? Or should I ask who is who doing?"

"Bloody frog..."

"Honhonhon~ Might I ask what you are all wear – "


Beware their vital regions, for France was laughing.


America was relieved. Finally, someone normal! "Canada!"


"American bastard..."

"Nice to see you too, Cuba."

"We are talking through a phone."

"You know what I mean."

An irritated sigh was heard followed by a couple of inhaling sounds.

"Cuba, are you smoking?"

"None of your business," came the blunt reply.

He rolled his eyes. "So, um, England. Where are you hiding?"

"I'm staying with Scotland," England snarled and then started cussing out his older brother.

"... Okay. What about you, Canada?"

"Um, I think I'm in a cabin somewhere in the Great Bear Rainforest..."


"What about you, Mr. America?" Lithuania asked.

"I'm in Alaska."

"Someday, Alaska will become one with me again," Russia promised.

Crack! A stream of French curses drifted from the speakers.

"What the hell was that?" America squeaked. That sounded a lot like bones breaking.

"I am deep in the Catacombs of Paris," France grumbled. "As much as I love my capital, I don't particularly enjoy camping underground surrounded by skulls."

"I'm sorry, Papa."

"It's not your fault, ma chérie."

"If you ask me, you deserve it."

"Ah, but no one asked you, l'Angleterre!"





"Tomato bastard..."

"Hello, aru."

"Da-ze~! Your breasts are mine!"

"All will become one with me, da?"

"Shut up, Commie!"


"Git! Stop laughing!"

"Like, everyone here is so noisy."

"Marry me, brother..."



America almost had a heart attack.

"Ve~ Germany, is that you?"

"No. This is the President of the United States, and all of you are in so much trouble."

"Oh... Boss..." America scratched his head. "How'd you get here?"

"It is not just him," said the Prime Minister of Japan.

"All of you are to give up your communication devices immediately," said the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

"They're called cell phones," Italy quipped.

"We do not care what they are called," the Premier of China said sternly. "No communication."

With that, the heads of their governments hung up. As soon as that happened, two men in black burst into America's bunker and held out their hands.

America sighed and said to the phone, "Well, bye guys. I've got my super awesome secret service asking for my phone." He turned it off and handed it to the taller guy.

The phone rang.

Bewildered, he snatched it back and answered, "Yeah?"

"There will be a press conference for the nine whose identities were revealed," his boss informed him. "Two weeks from now."

"Wait, what? Nine? There were ten of us!"

"Mexico was not identified; his sombrero was in the way."

"Lucky bastard!"

"Uh, yes... And America, please don't say anything stupid. We cannot have government secrets leaking out to the media... And try to seem normal... The general population are already calling you aliens!"



"... Awesome."

"Not awesome," his boss replied sharply. "A few outraged citizens are also comparing you to animals."

That stung. That really stung. America forced a smile and said, "Haha! Don't worry, boss!" He gave the secret service agents a thumbs-up (which confused them). "We've got it covered. We'll be so normal, they'll think we're even more boring than Austria!"

Japan fiddled with her sleeve and gazed at her companions. For all the pep talk and encouragements their bosses gave them, they were still fidgety and nervous.

The "press conference" was being held in New York. Even after two weeks, the media still hadn't cooled down.

(Aliens? Animals? Really, America-san, what happened to your people's common sense?)

"Japan." China waved a hand in front of her face. "Are you there, aru?"

"Konichiwa, China-san." Japan bowed to the elder nation.

"Are you nervous, aru?"

"... No."

"You're lying, aru. All of us are nervous. This is the first time we are going to reveal ourselves to the world at large, aru. Every citizen of every country in the world will be watching us on live television – something none of us had ever thought would actually happen, aru." His eyes grew dark. "Our lives... It will be changed forever, aru. When I find out who did this..." A stream of Chinese threats poured out of his mouth. His new boss looked over at him disapprovingly from where he was speaking with Russia's boss.

Japan laid a hand on his arm. "Calm. We will get through this. We may not have done anything like this before, but there is a first for everything." She gave him a meaningful look.

China blinked, then blushed. "Japan – "

"Are you guys ready?" America jumped in between them, totally ruining the moment. "Huh? Are you?"

His boss yelled, "Get back here!"

"Oops, gotta run!" He ran away.

China's eye twitched.

Japan just smiled.

"... have lived and served their countries for a long time," said the President of the United States. "So please give them the respect and privacy they deserve and..."

None of the people present came there to hear the President drone on – they want to interview the nations, dammit.

The room they were in was basically a big white space with some scattered chairs for the reporters. The one long table in front of the nations was covered with a simple white cloth and topped with each countries' flag in front of the appropriate nation.

There were also a lot of microphones on the table. As in, a lot of microphones. There was barely enough space for their water.

Dear god, this was going to suck.

"... ask them only relevant questions. Thank you." The President stepped back and sat beside America.

Immediately, dozens of hands rose from the audience, pens poised above notepads.

America lazily pointed at a man in a black suit. "Yeah?"

So it begins.

Everything went smoothly for the first hour. The nations answered enquiries such as "How does your existence influence the running of a country?" and "Do relationships and family ties affect how the government of the countries work?" The nations presented themselves as wise, professional and normal (well, they were a bit eccentric, but that was to be expected). They had spent the two weeks of hiding preparing for every possible question the reporters might ask, and it was paying off.

Meaning: they managed to answer the questions without really answering the questions.

(America had way too much fun looking at his reporters' frustrated faces.)

There was one close call when England started hissing at his (imaginary) fairy friends and several reporters swung their heads to him, but his boss had the sense to discreetly elbow him into silence.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

A particularly nosy reporter asked, "What are your sexual orientations?"

England choked on his water.

France laughed suggestively.

Russia smiled creepily.

America wilted.

Italy smiled.

Germany shifted uncomfortably.

China twitched.

Canada tried to not get noticed.

Japan coughed.

No one answered for a minute.

The President prodded America and hissed, "Answer the damn question!"

"Um." America collected himself. "Um. Uh. I – I..."

"Why would you ask something like that?" England said disapprovingly.

The reporter shrugged. "This is for the tabloids."

"Damn tabloids..."

The President poked America again.

Finally, Italy jumped in with, "Ve~ I think most of us are bisexual!"

Cue face palms. Germany gritted his teeth.

The reporter, as well as everyone else in the room, looked surprised. "I-is that so?"

"Si. Gender doesn't matter to us much, ve."

A blonde journalist stood up. "Are any of you in a relationship?"

"That is personal," China said flatly.

"If my country starts dating another country, I think I'd like to know," a person from the audience quipped. "For one, I don't like the idea of America dating, maybe, Russia."

"What the hell?!" America yelled, standing up. The other nations were equally horrified (and just a little amused). "I'm not dating the Commie!"

"Da," Russia agreed, his smiling face faltering slightly. "America has permission to become one with me, but not in a romantic way. Perhaps his sister, da? And then we can rule the Arctic together and live in a warm place with sunflowers~!"

America laughed harshly. "Haha, that's funny, Russia! As if I didn't have nukes pointed at you right now..."

"Don't bring me into this," Canada muttered.

Italy squealed. "Ve~ Russia and Canada, that's so cute!"

"Italy..." America was frowning deeply now.

"But it's just like me and Germany! Ve, Germany, do you have a fever? You look red."

Germany hissed, "Quiet, Italy."

"Non," said France, who was grinning gleefully. This was too good. "Let him continue. Italy, what do you think about Denmark and Norway?"

"They're cute~! I heard they started dating a few weeks ago."

Japan was smiling. Italy should join her matchmakers' club. Or her yaoi club. "What about Poland and Lithuania?"

"They are made for each other, ve~! Kind of like Estonia and Latvia. Or America and England."

England squawked, "What?!"

"There is nothing going on between me and England!" America objected.

France giggled. "Please, the sexual tension is practically visible!"


"But it's true! It's not only you and l'Amérique, l'Angleterre. The UST between many other countries are undeniable. Currently, le Chine et le Japon are working it out, hm?"

"Mind your own business, aru!"

"It's my job to spread l'amour~"

"Perverted – "

"Enough!" Germany's boss (who was just as scary as Germany himself) stood up and said, "This conference is over."

"Yay!" America jumped up and, upon seeing the resentful looks he was getting from the audience, said uncertainly, "Um, not yay?"

Russia's boss rose from his chair. "Let us go, Russia."

"Da." Russia got up and started following his boss...

... and then his heart fell out.

"Oh my god!" a female reporter shrieked.

"Someone call an ambulance"! another yelled.

"It's fine!" Russia boss called out.

"Da," Russia agreed. "It does that sometimes." He calmly picked up his heart from the floor and put it back where it belonged.

That just seemed to horrify the reporters even more.

"... Is that sanitary?" one managed to say.


"... Oh..."

Nope, the reporters were still in shock.

The nations jumped at the opportunity and escaped the room with their bosses at their heels.

Finally, the reporters snapped out of their daze and chased after them, determined to get more answers (because, really, all their answers just left them with even more questions than before).

Thank god for security.

"Imbéciles," France's boss muttered. "What were you thinking?"

The nations were all standing in a line, looking down like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Except for Italy, who was being personally reprimanded by his own boss. (Poor Italy, he looked ready to cry.)

"I don't know about them," France sniffed, "but I was spreading l'amour – "

"Cut the crap, France," his boss sighed.

"You should have left it with Italy's bisexual announcement," England's boss added.

"What did we tell you?" Japan's boss said sternly. "Only answer either yes, no, or the very bare minimum. If one of the reporters asked something uncomfortable, what were you supposed to do?"

"Tell them it's confidential," they mumbled.

America carried on, "But that woman was all like, 'Me and Russia are dating!' I can't just say nothing – "

"But you could have," his boss fumed.

As they continued their "You Could Have Done This" tirade, Italy's boss said to Italy, "You are no longer allowed to talk about other nations' love lives."

Italy withered. "Ve..."

Note: Mentioned in that little noodle incident about Belarus's rampage, she's a great technician. I'd like to think so, since Belarus's main exports are heavy machinery. It may not be computers, but she has to know her machines – and that involves a deep understanding of technology. She's still not as good as Estonia though, with his electronic industries and all that.

Virtual cookies for anyone who guesses the video game America was playing during his stay in Alaska.
More virtual cookies to anyone who guesses the significance of Estonia's code. It's just a little fact.

Happy Halloween!
(Or, for me, Bonnes Fêtes d'Halloween!)

CHAPTER 3: Assault and Battery with a Dash of Coma (or the Axis Are in So Much Trouble Even Though It's Not Their Fault... Or Is it? Nah, It's Not Their Fault)

PS: Not going to be updating until December. See, there's this thing called NaNoWriMo... and this is probably the last (or second-last) story I'm updating until the end of November.
So review, please~