AN: Inspired by Mitch Benn and The Distractions' song, Call Me During Doctor Who and I'll Kill You, here's a sort of crack!fic about America calling England during his favorite sci-fi show. *SPOILERS FOR 50TH ANNIVERSARY*

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Doctor Who nor Hetalia!~

…

London, England, 7:50 P.M.

Today was the day.

It was finally here.

England strolled through his kitchen, holding a big tub of buttery popcorn, steaming hot and fresh. Grinning from ear to ear, he sat down on his white-leather sofa, and turned on his telly.

It was 7:50 P.M., and the last commercial was getting to its end. This was it. The Brit had been waiting for it for half a century now. He prided himself on watching all the episodes- all 239 episodes- and this would make 240. For 75 whole minutes, England would sit here and nothing will interrupt this ground-breaking moment.

The opening credits and familiar theme song began, and the country leaned forward anticipatedly.

Doctor Who: The Day of the Doctor- 50th Anniversary Special

Suddenly, another tune played along with the theme song. England frowned. It was his phone. Grumbling, he paused the show and reached into his pocket, looking at the contact number. Bloody hell, it was that idiot, America. The Brit pressed ignore and set it down next to him. He then picked up the remote and pressed the play button.

The sci-fi show began, starting out with Clara Oswald receiving a message from the Doctor.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed again. England glanced at it, scowling when he found America's caller ID pop up.

"Stupid git," England grunted. "Didn't I inform everyone specifically not to contact me at this hour?"

The personification let his phone ring until it signaled, busy.

…

New York City, USA, 2:50 P.M.

"Shh!"

"Call again, Amérique!"

"Yeah, yeah, but he's not answering!"

Three nations huddled together on a hotel bed in New York City. Those three nations had a plan, since the confirmed date of Doctor Who's 50th Anniversary. Although they were entirely different countries, they united to annoy the living daylights out of a certain English nation.

America held his iPhone in one hand, shoving France away in the other from blocking his screen. The quiet Canadian sat on the left side of America, chuckling.

"Alright, now call on this phone," Canada reached into his pocket and pulled out a cheap looking Samsung flip phone. "It has no caller ID, so we can pretend to be anyone we want."

France took it from the Canadian, smirking. "Let's pretend to be an anonymous lover."

"Nah, we should totally be a random pizza man!"

"I think," Canada cut in, "I've got an idea."

…

"No, no, no, don't do that, Doctor!"

England was sitting on the edge of his seat, his popcorn tub already half-empty. The War Doctor, decides to trigger a deadly weapon called 'The Moment' to destroy the Gallifreyans and the Daleks, ending it in genocide. Suddenly, the Moment manifests into a conscious form that replicates Rose Tyler.

The Brit stifled his inner-fangirl squeal. "Rose Tyler!" he breathed, bouncing on his sofa seat.

Again, his cellphone rang. The Englishman snatched it up, not even caring to look at the caller ID.

"I swear, America, this is the last straw," the irate personification threatened. "if you ever call me ag-"

"W-Who?" the person on the phone stammered. "There's no 'America' here, no, this is Matt- er, Matt Collins calling to tell you, Arthur Kirkland, that you've won the Most Devoted Doctor Who fan of all time!"

England's eyes widened. He paused the telly, making sure he heard correctly. "Really?"

"Yes! Thank you for tuning into the 50th Anniversary, completing your 250 episode watch-"

"It's actually 240." The Brit corrected seriously.

"Right, 240 episodes! So, in reward, in the mail you'll be receiving tons of free Doctor Who merchandise and tickets to see Matt Smith and David Tennant in person!"

England couldn't help it. With a sharp intake of breath, he laughed nervously. "Wow, I-I can't believe this! Well, I knew I was always the most devoted fan out there, but wow! Matt Smith and David Tennant!?" The Brit's voice went up an octave. He coughed, and continued, "Thank you so much for this-"

"Oh, but first, you need to complete a couple of questions for us."

England glanced back at his show, still paused on Rose Tyler's face. "Well…"

"It'll just take a few minutes," the voice assured him, "just to make sure you're a real fan."

The British nation puffed out his chest. "Of course I am!"

"Great! So, first question, what...um, what is the actor's full name that plays the War Doctor?"

"John Vincent Hurt," he declared proudly, "born January 22, 1940, in Shirebrook. He is a fantastic actor, if I do say so myself, having being an Oscar nominee. John has played in Merlin, Harry Potter, and V for Vendetta. Did you know, his father was a parish vic-"

"Yes, yes, terrific answer!" the voice interrupted. "Well, the next question is: can you sing the theme song of Doctor Who?"

England scoffed. "Obviously. What kind of question is that?"

"Let's see you do it, then." the caller responded tauntingly.

The personification looked around. No one would be listening, so what harm could come of it? The Brit cleared his throat, and leaned into his phone. "Doo wee ooo... ooweEEE OOoooh...dO WEE DOooh, dooo, dododoooo-uhwoooo,uhwoooo…"

England continued singing the sci-fi theme song, occasionally adding bum-bum's as drumbeats and fwoooosh noises.

"Fantastic!" the voice coughed hastily. "Wait just a minute, I have to-"

The caller hung up, much to England's dismay. He stopped singing, and put his ear to the phone. "Hello? Hello? Do I still get to meet the Doctor?"

…

It was too much for the nations to handle. Canada hung up and threw the phone onto the floor, collapsing into fits of laughter.

"Genius," America snickered, pounding the bed. "Did you hear him sing?"

"Matt Smith and David Tennant!" France mimicked the English nation in a high-pitched voice. "Sign my eyebrows! Can I kiss you?"

America grinned. He then reached over to the side table and grabbed another phone. He turned it on with a smug look. "Okay, that was pretty good Canada, but now watch the pro at work."

…

The Englishman was now more than halfway done with the 50th Anniversary. The War Doctor's plan to destroy Gallifrey was still planned, and the 10th and 11th Doctors go back to their home planet, desperately trying to get a plan into action.

England nibbled on his popcorn, mesmerized by his T.V. show. Thanks to the frequent interruptions, the country had paused enough to skip most of the advertisements so far.

For the millionth time in a row, England's phone buzzed. He tried to ignore it, but, what if it was a national emergency? He had to stay alert! The Brit picked up his phone tiredly, pausing Doctor Who, and accepted the call.

"Hello?" he said reluctantly.

"Oh, hey there!" a person with a badly-practiced British accent answered. "Is Mr. Wall there?"

"Uh, no…" England rubbed his temples. "Is this a prank? Because- wait, this had better not be you, America."

"Ahh…" the caller laughed nervously, his accent vanishing. "dude, that's like, a country. My name is Albert. Is there a Mr. or Mrs. Wall there?"

"America!" the Brit snapped, irritated. "Stop. Calling. Me!"

The person didn't answer for awhile. Then, he replied, "Look, just answer the question, okay?"

England sighed. "No, there isn't a Mr. or Mrs. Wall here."

"Then what's holding your house up?"

The caller hung up with a click. The Englishman rolled his eyes. "Bloody git…" He then continued on with his program.

…

France and Canada shot a ridiculous look at the American nation, as if to say, that's it?

America threw up his hands in exasperation. "England has no sense of humor! None!"

"Well, it wasn't that funny, America." Canada stated, shrugging.

"I agree," France huffed, "but, it doesn't matter. It's my turn now!"

With the third and last spare phone they had, the French personification dialed England's number.

…

The Brit was now lying on the sofa, sniffling. His eyes were bloodshot, and his cheeks were tinged with deep red. His carefully combed blond hair was now a bird's nest. He had his hands curled around his knees, and tissues littered his carpeted floor. Bits of popcorn covered the sides of his mouth. The now-empty popcorn bucket was discarded aside, lying on its side. The Englishman usually kept his emotions in check. But what kind of mental person could do that during Doctor Who?

His phone rang again. England choked back a sob, and answered the call.

"Hello, Arthur-"

"I have a new destination." The British country announced, still sniffling.

"Wait, wha-"

"My journey," he continued dramatically- pausing at needed times for effect, "is the same as yours, the same as anyone's."

"I don't-"

"It's taken me so many years, so many lifetimes, but at last I know where I'm going." England was now openly crying, sobbing into his phone.

"Uh, Angleterre-"

"Where I've always been going. Home, the long way round. " the Brit finished, and hung up on the unknown caller. He switched the telly off, and wiped his tears away. He stood up slowly. "The magic of Doctor Who," he whispered to no one in particular. Then, the nation walked away, not wanting to deal with these feelings.

…

The three personifications gawked at the phone in silence. All three of them had never seen England in such an emotional mess. At least, not in a long time.

"Jeez," America broke the silence, laughing half-heartedly. "What a geek. I mean, Doctor Who, pfft, big deal!"

"Yes," France agreed, smiling tightly, "England's shows are stupide. A waste of time and space!"

"Time and space," Canada echoed, "like a TARDIS."

The three countries looked at each other. "I think I can get Netflix here," America said quickly.

…

EPILOGUE:

England had just finished marking down the days to the Doctor Who: Christmas Special. Even though he knew it was just another tidal wave of emotions, it was still worth seeing. After marking down his calendar, he checked his phone.

There were three new text messages.

Frowning, the Brit opened the first one. It was from America.

It read:

OMG. ALL THESE FEELS. WHY, ENGLAND? WHYDIDYOUDOTHISTOME.

Confused, England opened the second one. This time, it was from France.

France's read:

Just so you know, I hate your movies and shows. Especially the one called, 'Doctor Who'. However, a friend of mine loves it. So, I'm doing her a favor- give me the showtimes of Doctor Who in France, s'il vous plait?"

Still utterly in confusion, England opened his final one. This one was from Canada.

All the Canadian said was:

Raggedy Man, Goodbye.

…

AN: This was soooo fun to write! I love Doctor Who, and that 50th Anniversary was just- asdfghjkl;

Yes, in the end, America, France, and Canada got into Doctor Who. Mwahahaha.