Heeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyy~ fluffnights here! Another story, this one with Baby!America and Normal!England. DISCLAIMER: Yes, I, a fourteen year old girl, I own hetalia. Bow down. *all the sarcasm in the world* jk but I can dream. contains country names and possibility of human names, slight language

Everyone at the G8 meeting froze, shocked. America had been up at the podium rambling on about "A greenhouse superhero that goes up in space and will absorb all the pollution from earth! It's perfect dudes!" Until, in the blink of an eye, he was gone with a thunk that clearly indicated he had hit the floor. No one was brave enough to go up there, or in a few cases just didn't care enough, and see what happened. That is, until a tiny sniffle was heard with a "bw-bwother Engwand?" All heads turned to the island nation. Even he looked shocked as he slowly pushed his chair out and got up, walking to the front of the meeting room. In the floor was a pile of clothes with a tiny head sticking out at the top. The head had the same blue eyes as the man who had been standing there only moments before, his hair was the same wheat gold and the little tuft of hair still stood up. The child looked up at England, his slightly tan skin being marred with tears. "En-Engwand!" He tried to hold his arms up to the larger nation but they kept getting tangled in the too-large button up shirt, upsetting him even more and making the tears run faster.

It took a moment but the nations rusty parenting skills kicked in and he picked up the small kid. "Er- There there, whats all the fuss about now?" England said quietly, wiping away the tears with the sleeve of his coat. The only response he got was the tiny America looking at everyone with wide eyes, smiling a little once he got to France. "Oh honhon! Mon petite bebe souviens moi!(My little baby remembers me!)" He smiled at the little one. "H-hi Fwance!" America waved a small chubby hand at him. France smiled, "Hello Amerique." America giggled and hid in a frowning England's shoulder. "Bloody frog, sod off." "But why, Angleterre? He is but a child, wanting who should have been his big brother!" England glared "Now listen here you b-" "England! Now is not the time to be fighting!" Germany stood up, glowering at the two. "Now we need to work to put America back!" England cleared his throat a little, "Well yes, I suppose so." Germany nodded, "First we need someone to watch America-" He was cut off by Italy jumping up, "Ve ve Germany! I'll watch him! He's so cute and tiny and we can make spaghetti!" The taller blonde sighed, "Italy… I.. Okay."

Germany looked over to England who sighed, "Okay America. You're gonna have to go with Mister Italy for a little while, Alright?" With the look he was getting from the taller nation, England knew it was useless to argue. His eyes practically read out "You fucked up a spell, didn't you?". America sat up in England's arms, "Bwother, can we play?" He smiled like he just knew that he would get a yes. "Erm, In a bit alright? The grown ups need to talk. I'll come and get you afterwards, and we can play then." England could barely manage to look at the disappointed expression on the little ones face that ended up looking at the floor as he hung his head. "But until then you can play with Mister Italy." Blonde hair bobbed as America looked back up with a big grin. "Who is Mistew Itawy?" Italy piped up before England could point him out, "Me! I'm Italy and that's Germany!" He hung onto Germany's arm for a second before going over to the pair. "We're going to have so much fun, ve~ We can make pasta and watch some television! Germany doesn't let me watch much television, but we can!" America has looked lost at pasta but now he looked utterly bewildered. "What is pasta? ….Or t-teLEvictom?"

There was a moment of quiet before Italy burst to tears, "G-Germany h-he doesn't kn-know what PASTA ISS!" He ran over to the now uncomfortable nation and buried into his chest, sobbing hysterically. Germany awkwardly patted his back, his face going bright red. "Verdammt(damn) Italy, calm down! Just show him what pasta is!" The small auburn haired man's mood took a full 360 degree turn as he brightened up again, rushing over to the two nations again. "Ve! I could show you pasta! And television! Let's go!" Italy took America out of England's grasp and ran out of the room to the nearest kitchen. They were watched for a few seconds before Germany went and shut the door, already questioning England if a spell of his had backfired.

Italy ran down the hall, the kitchen already the first place he remembered. He put the wide eyed America down on a counter, rambling on about pasta too fast to keep up with as he pulled out pots, pans, and all the ingredients he would need as he came across them. As he kept rambling America started exploring the counter, warming up to the man a little. He still listened, of course. He was, after all, America. The colony of England, the world's superpower. And Big Brother England said it was polite to listen and was only to be expected of a genitalman- or maybe it was gentletan- he would have to ask again next time he saw Big Brother. He tried to remember what all Italy said as he wandered around, almost everything here foreign to him. As he walked he started hearing a slight clanging from out in the hall. He looked at the door with wide eyes. He had heard stories about monsters that made loud noises, and maybe this was one of them. He started trying to get Italy's attention, "Er, e-excuse me, miste-" He was cut off as the clang suddenly became incredibly loud, followed by a shriek and a flash of blue fabric. He looked around for Mister Italy in terror but he was gone.

What was left of the G-8 had finally agreed that it was not England's fault for the sudden shrink when the door to the conference was thrown open by Italy wailing "GERMANY SAVE MEEE!" And running over, attaching himself to the nation's arm. "IT WAS BIG AND SCARY AND MADE LOUD NOISES AND WENT BANG IT IT WANTS TO ATTACK ME AN-" "CALM DOWN! WHAT WAS BIG AND SCARY AND WANTED TO ATTACK YOU!" Germany cut him off, pushing Italy enough away that he could put a hand on his shoulder and look in his eyes. Italy calmed a touch but was still frantic. "A big scary monster!" The larger blonde sighed, "What mon- Where's America? You were supposed to be watching him!" Italy whimpered and started to cry again. "I d-dont know!" Germany started to yell but was beat to it by England. "You don't know where he is?! He's too small to be on his own! We need to find him!" He barely held back on calling him a twat, only doing so because of the warning look Germany gave him. "Where were you two when you ran away?!" Italy shrunk from the anger in England's voice, "Th-the kitchen to m-make pasta.." The thick browed blonde shot him a glare before hurrying out the door, followed first by France and… that.. Other one. Then the rest of the G8 followed, a bit slower. By the time they got to the kitchen they could see a tipped cleaning cart and the worker frantically trying to clean it up and the mess that Italy had left from his panic. The one thing they didn't see was America.

Authors Note: WOO! This took a few days but it feels good to finish it. If I got any of the translations wrong, I'm so sorry. Please feel free to correct me in the comments. Also, apologies if anyone seems off character. Im trying my best but don't hold back commenting. I can only get better with your all's help. I will update as soon as possible. Thanks ~ fluffnights