Prussia was bored.

It wasn't often that he got bored - being the awesome person that he was, he always had something fun up his sleeve. Today though...he had nothing.

He was completely and utterly bored.

"Hey England," he said, walking over to the nearest nation. "What are you doing?"

England, who had been hunched over a book, looked up and glared at him.

"Go away," he snapped.

Ignoring this, Prussia dumped himself down in the chair beside England, and squinted to see the words written on the page.

"Dumbledora the explorer?" he snorted. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing!" England covered the book with his hands, his cheeks red. "Go away, you ingrate!"

"Aww, no." Prussia shoved against his arm. "Let me see!"

"Go away!"

"Don't be unawesome!" Prussia slumped against his seat, scowling slightly. "I'm really bored!"

"For the last time - no!"

"Can I read it with you?" Prussia glanced at him, looking hopeful. "That book is probably unworthy of my unawesome attention, but then, so is the loser currently speaking."

He glanced up at Austria, who was currently going over his idea of how to bring fourth world peace, through the use of melodious piano music.

"Go away, you idiot!" England snapped. "You're being annoying!"

At this, Prussia's expression darkened. "The awesome me could never be annoying!"

"Well, you are." England turned back to his book, his expression creased into a frown. At this moment, Italy, who had been walking by and holding a bowl of pasta, tripped and fell on top of England.

(The fact that Prussia's foot had been purposely sticking out at that exact moment, didn't necessarily mean he'd had anything to do with it...).

"WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU, YOU FOOL?!" England howled at Italy, who looked more distressed over the fact that he had lost his pasta, than the fact that he had spilled pasta sauce all over England.

"My pasta!" Italy wailed. "It's all gone!"

"I don't care about your pasta!" England snapped, his expression thunderous. "You ruined my clothes!"

"Fratello, my pasta's gone!" Italy ran over to where Romano was sitting, tears rolling down his face. He threw himself on top of the other nation; Romano let out a howl of frustration and shoved him off, yelling at him to "stop acting like an idiot."

"That idiot!" England growled, getting up and storming off to the bathroom. "That bloody idiot."

As soon as he had left the room, Prussia scooted into his chair, and glanced down at the open book. His eyes drifted over the words written on the page and his brow furrowed; this was what England had been reading? It didn't even make any sense!

He turned the page, his eyebrows raising as he caught sight of an illustrated picture, of a squat little man with ugly boils drawn all over his face.

Once again, the page had been filled with odd words that made no sense. Rolling his eyes slightly, Prussia turned the page and was, yet again, greeted with a similar situation.

"This sucks," he grumbled.

The door of the conference room opened, and England once again walked in, still cursing angrily under his breath. Prussia jumped slightly and moved away from England's seat. After hesitating for a moment, he pulled the book with him, and stuffed it under the table.

England sat back down, a large scowl stretched across his face. For a moment, Prussia expected him to notice the fact that his book was missing - he didn't.

Prussia sat back in his chair, gazing with a bored expression to the front of the room. Austria had now left and Italy had quickly taken the stage, and was now wailing about the loss of his pasta, while everyone else glared at him.

"Unawesome," Prussia muttered. England glanced at him, annoyance written all over his face.

"Why don't you just leave then?" he suggested, coldly. Prussia considered this, and then shrugged his shoulders.

"Why not?" he said. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

Making sure that England was no longer looking in his direction, Prussia stood up and hid the book behind his back. Trying to stay inconspicuous, he made his way towards the door, and then left the room.

...

Germany frowned up when he saw his brother leave the room.

Prussia's posture showed that he was up to something and Germany knew from experience, that this was never a good thing. He glanced to the front of the room, to where Italy had now begun to sob.

Germany stood up and headed towards the door, deciding that dealing with his brother was much better than staying here any longer.

...

America was bored out of his mind. And he hadn't been scheduled in to speak today. He'd been furious about that; he was the hero! He deserved to speak at every conference but, according to England, people were sick of him.

How ridiculous was that?

His eyes drew up when he spotted Prussia leaving the room; after a brief pause he leapt up, and decided to follow.

After all, Prussia was pretty awesome.

...

Pretty much every page he had turned to had been exactly the same.

Prussia frowned as he sat outside, a fair distance from the conference room, flicking through the book. He wondered if it was written in a foreign language; but then, he understood bits of it, so that couldn't be the case.

His eyes squinted slightly and he murmured a few of the words aloud.

"Don't know why England was reading this shit," he muttered, shaking his head slightly.

"Prussia?" Prussia glanced up, to see Germany walking towards him. "What are you doing?!"

"Hey Prussia!" from behind Germany, America came hurrying up. "I was bored so I thought you might have something fun to do."

"Usually I do," Prussia responded. "Right now, I'm having a brief period of unawesomeness."

"Whose book is that?" Germany's eyes narrowing at the sight of it. "Where did you get it from?"

"Calm down," Prussia snorted. "It's just England's - it's completely shit. Take a look at this."

Glancing down at the page, Prussia began to recite the words written on it.

"Hey!" America's eyes widened in recognition. "I think that's one of England's spell books!"

"What?" Germany glanced at him, oddly. "Spell books?"

"Yeah," America snorted. "England actually believes in magic - ridiculous, huh?"

The next moment there was a flash of bright light, and America and Germany were gone.

...

Prussia finished off the words on the page and glanced up, expecting to see America grinning in amusement, and his brother rolling his eyes at him. Instead, the space in front of him was empty.

"Hey!" Prussia yelled. "Did you loser's leave? What the hell?! That is so unawesome!"

Prussia stood up, prepared to chase after them, and declare war on them with the use of his non-existent armies.

Then he saw them.

At first, he didn't think it was them. The two children standing in front of him were...well, children. Germany and America weren't children. It was as simple as that.

His eyes first brushed over the small blonde child, wearing an odd blue smock, and staring up at him with wide eyes.

Prussia snorted. "What are you wearing?" he laughed. "You're a dude, aren't you? Why the hell are you wearing a dress?!"

The child trembled slightly.

"Aww," Prussia mocked. "Is the little girl going to cry? So unawesome!"

"You're horrible, Prussia!" snapped another child. "You can't talk that way to a lady!"

Prussia whirled around to snap at the child; his face paled when he caught sight of who it was.

"W-w-west?" he stuttered.

"I'm not a girl!" protested the first child. "I'm a boy! My name is America!"

Prussia pale further at this comment; he took a staggering step backwards, shaking his head in denial.

"No, no," he muttered. "This...this isn't real. This is just a fucked up dream, thats all."

"How come I'm with you?" the second child - Germany - demanded, his eyes narrowed. "Where is Austria and Hungary? Also -"

"West what the hell?!" Prussia's eyes were growing wider and wider. "I mean - you can't be here! What the hell is going on?!"

" - Where is Italy?"

"This is just fucked!" Prussia started to pace. "I mean - what the fuck is this?!"

"Where is Italy, Prussia?" Germany demanded, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Tell me!"

"You aren't here!" Prussia pressed his hands firmly over his ears. "LA, LA, LA, LA! I can't hear you!"

The first child - America - started to cry.

"Oh, for godsake!" removing his hands away from his ears, Prussia glared at him. "You, shut up!"

"Where's England?" America bawled. "I want England!"

"Who's England?" Germany questioned. "Is he missing too, like my Italy?"

"Stop crying!" Prussia growled, glaring at America.

"Stop talking to her like that!" Germany snapped. "It isn't nice! And where is Italy?!"

"I WANT MY BIG BROTHER!" America wailed. "I WANT ENGLAND!"

"Shut up!" Prussia scowled. "England isn't here!"

"I WANT MY BIG BROTHER!" America continued to scream, hysterically. "I DONT LIKE YOU! YOUR MEAN AND HAVE SCARY HAIR - AND HE KEEPS CALLING ME A GIRL!"

"...What did you say about my hair?!"

"Prussia!" Germany growled. "Tell me where my Italy is!"

"I don't know!" Prussia snapped. "Let me think, dammit!"

America suddenly took off down the corridor, his little legs moving as quickly as they could. Prussia let out a loud curse and hurled himself after him. He tackled America to the floor.

"Prussia!" Germany cried, sounding horrified. "You can't do that to a girl!"

America let out a loud sob. "I'm not a girl!" his eyes screwed up, and tears ran down his cheeks. "Help! He's kidnapped me!"

Germany gasped. "Is that what you did, Prussia?" he demanded. "Did you kidnap my Italy as well?!"

"Both of you, stop talking!"

"NEVER!" Germany's voice was filled with determination. "TELL ME WHAT YOU DID WITH MY ONE TRUE LOVE!"

Prussia glared at him. "West, shut -"

"I WANT MY BIG BROTHER!" America struggled fruitlessly, trying to get Prussia off him. "I WANT MY BIG BROTHER!"

Letting out a loud curse, Prussia grabbed America by the scruff of his smock and hauled him up into the air. He stormed up to Germany, and grabbed him too.

"Let me go!" America sobbed.

"Prussia!" Germany howled. "Tell me where the love of my life is!"

Ignoring them, Prussia opened a nearby closet door, and shoved them inside. He slammed the door, hurriedly. The last thing he heard from them was Germany's angry cry off; "ITALY, I WILL FIND YOU, MY LOVE!"

He hurried away from the door, shaking his head rapidly.

"It never happened," he muttered to himself. "It never happened..."

...

AN:

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