A:-

England had made me wear a tux. Except he said it wasn't a tux, it was called a dinner suit. I'd insisted it was a tux, then he kissed me with such ferocity I could barely breathe. Okay, after that I'd let him have it his way, and called it a dinner suit when he was around. Though I still say I would have been more comfortable in my bomber jacket.

I was talking to Russia. England had invited all the Allies, because otherwise "it wouldn't be proper". I wasn't sure I wanted Russia to be here, but he hadn't caused any trouble so far.

"I don't usually like weddings," he was saying, with an odd, hunted look in his eye, "but I do love seeing everyone all together. I would love to see their faces twisted in agony, da. Also, I brought you this." Lithuania, who was standing nervously in front of Russia, held out a gift for me.

"Oh, thanks!" I unwrapped it, then looked at Russia. It was a box of extra-small condoms, with a label that said "Especially made for America".

"Uhh, I'm not sure you understand the concept of a gay marriage..." I said uncertainly.

"Ah, that's the beauty of being in an open relationship, da!" he smiled happily, placing an enormous hand on the shoulder of Liet, who froze. "Also, if you say that it must mean that you don't know the other uses for... Oh my! Well, I won't spoil the fun of working them out for you!" he exclaimed, and drifted away, hand still planted on the shoulder of Liet, who had no choice but to go with him. I stared after him, confused.

L:-

"Ah, that's the beauty of being in an open relationship, da!" he smiled happily, and put his hand on my shoulder. It was still there. He'd walked me over to the drinks table, given me a bottle of vodka and told me to start pouring it into the orange juice. I didn't know what he was planning to do once everyone was under the influence of alcohol, but it couldn't be good. However, I was more worried about what Russia had said a moment ago to America. I hope he didn't mean... What I thought he meant...

"Russia-san?" I looked up at him. "Ca-can I ask you s-something?"

"You want to become one with Russia, da?" he asked brightly, his smile friendly and hopeful.

"Uhh... M-maybe l-later... I wanted to ask you about hat you said to America-san, about-about an open r-relationship..."

"Ah, yes! We are in one! And you are okay with it being open." It wasn't a question. I nodded sadly, a lump in my throat. He thought... We were in... A... I wanted to scream "Since when has abuse and rape counted as a relationship?" but I just bit my lip and let the tears flow.

S:-

Jerk England had invited me only because people would have thought bad of him otherwise.

"Look. Just because you're here it doesn't mean you're a country. You can see what other countries look like and see that you will never become one." he had said, "Don't get any ideas, and stay out of the way." This was a brilliant opportunity to network, so of course I'd accepted the invitation. Before long I would be more powerful than even jerk England. At the moment Latvia was telling me about his life as a country.

"... And I have to work for this m-monster! He's so scary and he b-beats me and r-r- well, maybe I'd better not tell you about that seeing as you're so young... B-but he's so huge and p-powerful and s-s-scary..." I realised that a large country had appeared behind Latvia at some point while he had been speaking (I was unsure how long he'd been there), and was looking down at me with a shy, friendly smile. Maybe he would recognise me...?

"Hi!" I greeted cheerfully, with a wave.

"Hello," he returned with a smile, "Who might you be?"

"I'm Sealand! And who're you?"

"You mean you don't know?" he blinked, genuinely surprised. I glanced at Latvia, and noticed that he seemed about to turn on the waterworks. He was shaking violently and had gone very pale as well. "I am Russia, da." continued the man. Then he paused, and a strange light entered his eyes. "Would you like to become one with Russia?"

"A-are you sure? I'm not even recognised as a country yet..." I admitted. Latvia had started crying quietly, but I had no idea why.

"Once you become one with Russia, everyone will recognise you as a very powerful country, da!" the man beamed.

"Really?" My eyes widened. "More powerful than jerk England?"

Russia laughed.

"By far."

I looked up at Russia, delighted. But then Latvia started to shout at me desperately.

"No! Don't do oommf- !" Russia had put a large, gloved hand in front of Latvia's mouth, effectively silencing him. His left hand took Latvia's upper arm and steered him to stand behind Russia. I noticed that even when he resumed conversation he still kept a hold on Latvia's arm behind him. He looked back at me.

"So what do you say?" Russia towered above me expectantly. I opened my mouth to answer, but then America stepped in-between us.

"You stay away from this boy." he said warningly, "England may not like him, but he won't want you messing with him."

"I'm not messing with him," Russia said innocently, "this is entirely voluntary."

"I said, you stay away from him!" America repeated, giving Russia a small push that made him stagger slightly. Russia was a big country, but I had heard people say that America did not know his own strength. I saw Latvia dash out from behind Russia as he let go of him arm.

Russia shrugged.

"I wouldn't want to cause trouble at your wedding." he said to America, and walked away past us towards the drinks table. "I'll be in touch..." he told me as he passed.

G:-

"Hey, hey, Germany!" I sighed as Italy ran up to me and thrust a plastic cup of orange juice into my hand. "The food here is disgusting! England said he had the finest English cooks make it. Even the pasta is disgusting!"

"Uhh, Italy," I said wearily, "you mustn't say that too loudly. You can complain all you want at home, but this is his wedding, and it would be rude to -"

"But France nii-chan is complaining very loudly!" Italy interrupted.

"That's because France is very rude. And that's just one of his many faults. How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from him?"

"Aww, but Germany..."

"Here, just drink your orange juice and stop complaining. This is a happy occasion."

"Yes!" brightened Italy, nodding enthusiastically. I had an idea.

"Why don't you go congratulate them?"

"Okay!" Italy rushed off, and I took a sip of the orange juice he had given me. It tasted very odd. I decided to go and talk to Austria.

I found him standing in the corner with a glass of wine, watching the rest of the room.

"This looks much more expensive than my wedding was," was the first thing he said as I approached.

"Really? I thought your wedding seemed more expensive." I replied.

He faultered.

"I – well, of course we – I, uh, we – we went for the best of the best, of course... I-I..." he stammered.

"It's okay. The cheap stuff is exactly the same." I said quietly. I knew this only too well. I shivered as for the billionth time in my mind's eye I saw my people drowning in notes. I shook my head to clear it. "England an America are both rich countries." Austria adjusted his glassed silently, and I sat down to meditate on international monetary affairs.

A:-

I had chosen Canada as my best man, and he was delighted to be remembered for once. However, England hated all of his brothers, and had only invited them in the first place out of a sense of propriety (and to rub it in the faces of Scotland and Patrick). And France was just out of the question. So, by default, Spain had ended up as his best man. His speech had been... Interesting.

"I've known England for a very long time." he had said, "I've fought against him and beside him. And all that I can really say is... He's a pirate-employing cheater. He gives knighthoods to villains like Francis Drake!" Then, seeing how angry England was getting, "A-aaand I wish him all the best on his lovely day and for the future!" he'd concluded, and hurriedly sat down, eyeing England nervously.

I was now standing arm in arm with England as we talked to Spain. I looked at England quizzically for a moment as he slipped his arm out of mine, but then he started sorting out the Narcissus rose on my lapel. The aquilegia on his was immaculate.

"Do you ant a drink, England?" I asked when he'd finished. I didn't really know Spain, and I was thirsty.

"Only an orange juice this time, America," he said, surprising me, "I don't ant anything ruining this day..." I nodded and went over to the drinks table, where Patrick and Seamus, England's Irish brothers, were draped, hammered, across some chairs.

"You're a big shite, Seamus." said Patrick.

"No, you're the big shite, Patrick, you big shite!" replied Seamus. Then he notcied me. "Fill us up, you damn yank," he called, holding out an empty glass.

"Actually, I'm technically not a ya-"

"I said fill us up! Jesus, I didn't ask fer yer life story!" I sighed as he struggled to his feet and staggered over to me. He reached for the bottle of wine and I noticed a series of dark scars along his inner arm. I looked away.

"What's that?" he asked, "Admirin' where I've cut meself? Or do you just t'ink that I'm another o' t'ose stupid freak emos?" He took a few steps closer, and Patrick arrived by his side.

"Is this fecker givin' you trouble, Seamus?" He turned on me. "It's bad enough that you're a feckin' homo. But then you go and corrupt our Arthur, sendin' a redeemable country on the path t' hell, and then you mess with Seamus?" He highlighted each point with a jab at my shoulder.

"Please stop that," I pleaded.

"Oh! What're you gonna do t' me? You're a feckin' eejit an' a feckin' homo." I didn't want to spoil England's perfect wedding. The wedding he had done everything in his power to ensure the success of. But the Ireland brothers were backing me into the table here. Besides – England had only invited Patrick out of spite anyway. I punched Seamus in the face and Patrick on the chin. They both howled I pain.

"I t'ink you broke me feckin' nose!" Seamus yelled nasally, hand to bloody face. They came at me, and I hit them both again, knocking them out.

"What the bloody hell is going on?!" England fumed, hurrying over.

"I decked them in just two hits!" I cried triumphantly, but then I saw England's face. "I... They..." England snapped his fingers at two very English attendants, who came over.

"Take my brothers away. Those idiots will not spoil my wedding." Then he spat on a napkin and started rubbing furiously at the blood on my knuckles.

"Oh, man, I got blood on this stupid tux... This is why I don't wear expensive clothes, because they get ruined..." I saw England's eyes on me.

"Tux?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows. My god, now we were married I was goung to make him pluck them.

"I-I mean..." I stammered, but England kissed me and took my hand.

"Would you like to dance?" he requested, but I didn't move.

"Err... You learned to dance... When? A million years ago? I learned to dance in the Swinging Twenties." England frowned at me.

"I got a proper wedding band, not a punk rock one. That just wouldn't be suitable for a wedding. We got married under the eyes of god, dammit, so this is a proper wedding with proper music, proper food, and we are going to dance a proper dance like a proper couple at their proper wedding." Then he led me onto the dance floor and tried his best to dance with me.

L:-

I was sitting next to Russia, drinking from a half-empty bottle of vodka that was left over from earlier, drowning my sorrows. He was watching the main events of the room intently. He had seen what had happened with the Ireland brothers – who hadn't? But then he had slipped unnoticed into the room where they had been taken. He had been gone a while, and had only just got back. I didn't want to know what he had been doing in there. Two of him smiled down at me. How much had I been drinking? I wasn't even sure any more.

The words "open relationship" swam through my brain. They were the type of swimmers who pissed in the pool. He called this a relationship? Okay then, it's a relationship, if that's what you want. Oh god, I was so drunk. I leaned over and kissed Russia on the lips, smashed the bottle against the table when I only meant to put it down, then rested my head on the table and fell asleep.

S:-

"Heeheeheehee!" I was sitting on the floor giggling. I wasn't sure what why. I wasn't sure of a lot of things. But something was hilarious. Maybe it was jerk England's attempts to dance with that clumsy hick. Why did I even hate England, anyway? This was great, I was having a great time. I fell backwards and lay giggling at the ceiling, my hat rolling off beneath the table.

G:-

Russia walked past me with an unconscious Lithuania slung over his shoulder. He was humming quietly. I was trying to decide whether to inquire or not when Italy skipped up, arm in arm with his brother Romano.

"You're a potato bastard," Romano spat emphatically.

"No, you're wrong! Germany's really great and really fun!" Italy objected. Then he kissed his brother on the cheek, and then strained to do the same to me. I leant down so he could reach. As he did so, I smelt the alcohol on his breath.

"Italy," I said sternly, taking him by the shoulders and forcing him to look into my eyes, "have you been drinking?"

"Only orange juice!" he said, and saluted with the wrong hand. I thought back to the orange juice he had given me earlier. It had tasted rather strange...

There was something in the orange juice.

It seemed the Italys weren't the only ones affected, either. I didn't want to interrupt... Whatever England and America were doing on the dance floor, but looking around I didn't think this could wait. I sighed as I realised that the Britons had been affected the worst. Scotland was screaming at anyone within a two-metre radius than England was still married to him, and everyone had seen what had happened with the Irelands...

I walked up to the newlywed couple and cleared my throat quietly.

"What?" snapped England, as he nearly tripped over America's feet again.

"This isn't working England," panted America, "I just can't dance this slowly. I've got too much rhythm fo' yo." He laughed.

"Someone's spiked the orange juice. I'd keep an eye on your brother Scotland."

England stopped trying to teach America to dance and turned his full attention to me.

"What did you just say?"

"Everyone's getting really drunk."

"My brother Scotland..." he groaned, and rushed off, towing America behind him.

A:-

"Where are we going, England?" I asked as he pulled me along.

"My brothers won't listen to me – especially when they're drunk. But you're much stronger than any of us, so you can provide some... Persuasion..."

"Canada?" I gasped as I noticed my brother trying to fight off the drunken advance of Wales. I strode over and pulled him off my brother, pushing him aside. I was about to hit him but Canada beat me to it with a hit that sent Wales staggering into one o the food tables. He was almost as strong as me, when he wanted to be.

"Way to go, Canada!" I cried, giving him a high-five, but then he started worrying again.

"I hope he's okay... I do love him still..." He hurried over ti where Wales was sprawled and helped him to his feet.

"Reason first!!" screeched England, "We use reason first!"

"Oh, aye, you're the most reasonable laddie I ever met(!)" came Scotland's sarcastic voice. England growled and we ran over.

"Reason first," England warned me, and I gave him a thumbs-up. "Lachlann..." he started, but his brother hit him, so I hit his brother in return.

"Nobody. Touches. My. England!" I told him, punctuating each word with a punch.

"Ack, ye'll pay for this! The both of you will, you mark my words!" Scotland shouted, blood leaking from a brand new split in his lip, then turned and tried to weave his drunken way to the exit. He found the bathroom, which was much closer, and I could hear retching sounds comin from inside.

G:-

I diverted Japan's attention from the commotion with the Britons to where France was doing something to Italy in the corner. France didn't need alcohol himself to try and molest another country. I didn't think he'd pass up an opportunity to take advantage of Italy while he was under the influence though.

"France nii-chan, what are you doing?" we heard as we approached, and picked up the pace.

A:-

I became kinda nervous when I saw Russia slip into the bathroom where Scotland still was, but everyone needs to pee so I guessed I was just growing paranoid. After all, when you've gotta go, you've gotta go. I sighed. England's perfect wedding was falling apart at the seams... I wasn't even sure where he was right then.

G:-

"France nii-chan, stop it! Don't touch that!" came Italy's scream, and we arrived to see France moulder against Italy, who was backed against the wall, his hands under Italy's shirt and his tongue running slowly along that one curly hair of his.

"Ahh.." squirmed Italy quietly, his face as red as his pasta sauce.

"France, you get off him!" I demanded. France directed his eyes at us, but otherwise didn't move.

"France," Japan said calmly, "we are warning you to step away from Italy." France closed his eyes and smiled as best he could while still licking the strand of hair. Italy let out a small whimper.

"This is your last chance!" I told him angrily.

A:-

I spotted England at the drinks table and hurried over.

"My perfect wedding," he sobbed, drink in hand and several empty glasses on the table in front of him, "ruined!" He downed the drink in one.

G:-

France finally stepped away from Italy, and we relaxed. But then I felt he was getting a little too close to me. I made to take a step back, but he grabbed my upper arm and put a knife to my side. I gasped as he slashed through my clothes to put the blade point to my skin.

"I hate you," he spat in a breathy whisper in my ear, "You have always gone out of your way to fuck with me. Never to fuck me, unfortunately..." The hand which had been on my arm had now found the zip on my trousers. I could see Japan, and Spain who was nearby, trying to find a way to help, but with the knife at my side they could do little.

"BASTAAAARD!!!" screamed a voice from behind us, and Spain's and Japan's eyes widened as they saw what we couldn't. Before he could react, France was hit very hard on the head with something, and dropped the knife. I quickly stepped away and did my zip back up, as Italy's brother Romano hit France again and again with a baseball bat.

"I'll teach you – to molest – my brother!" he screamed hoarsely, as blood started to come off onto the bat with each hit.

A:-

"England, stop it! We can fix this, we can pull it back together again..." I knew as I said it that it was a lie.

"Trouble in paradise?" asked Tony, who had appeared by my side.

"No, Tony, it's just -"

"Well what do you expect? Marrying a fucking limey. I'll fucking kill him as soon as you split up, I fucking will!"

"Tony, what's got into you? You normally get on so well with Engl-"

"Fucking- ARGH!!" he screamed, as England smashed an empty bottle in half and stabbed it into Tony's hand. The sharp edges of the broken glass passed easily through his alien flesh, pinning his hand to the table.

G:-

"Romano!" cried Italy, taking his brother's arms to stop him swinging the bat, "Stop it! He may be bad but he's our brother! Don't let the mafia inside you control you!"

"It's... So hard, Ita-chan... I'll do what I want! I'm going to kill this bastard!"

"This isn't what you want, it's the mafia inside you! NO!" Italy ran in-between Romano and France as Romano swung the bat up again.

A:-

"Did you see that?" England laughed, "Did you see that stupid wanker's face?" He cracked up, and I slung England over my shoulder and marched into another room to try and sober him up. It was true what France said, he was just a punk and a delinquent underneath, and I'd known that when I married him, but I'd never thought he'd do anything this bad.

G:-

Romano swung the bat down again with all his might, but by the time he realised that his brother was standing in it's path it was too late for him to stop...

A:-

England gave me a shove and I stared at him, disgusted, as he spat on the floor. What had I married? I turned my back on him and ran out of the building, unable to take it any longer.

G:-

"ITALYYYYY!!!" I shouted, helpless, as the bat crashed down upon his fragile head, caving in the side of his skull and coming away trailing blood... "ITALYYY!!!" I yelled, but I could hear no sound, not my voice, not Romano sobbing his brother's name, not Japan saying something very loudly in his native tongue. My vision blurred and all I could see what Italy's body, lying on the floor, as Romano threw the bat as far away as possible, as Japan and Spain rushed forward as one, as the rest of the room descended into chaos. I felt nothing as hot tears splashed onto my face. As my knees fell hard onto the floor and were grazed as I sank beside Italy's body. As I took him in my arms and screamed his name. As I kissed him again and again and again, his cheeks, his forhead, his lips.

L:-

I had awoken to the sight of Russia leaning over me, smiling gently. I had screamed in terror, and his hand had shot out to cover my mouth. He had lifted it away only when he was sure I would scream no more. He had already stripped me down while I had been asleep. Now I was awake he touched me. He played with me. He turned me over and he raped me. Just as he had done to the Irelands. Just as he would later do to Scotland and Finland. Just as he did to countless others that night. I did not take this in at the time. I was still very drunk. So drunk that I enjoyed it. There was one vital different between me and everybody else though. He kissed me while he did it.

I stood next to him as we watched Italy die. I was too numbed to cry. To care. That's what Russia does to you. He beats the feeling and the spirit, the courage and the compassion out of you. He smiled as he watched what was happening. As he saw the hurt and the anguish and the pain and the upset on people's faces. He laughed as Tony the alien's hand got stabbed, and watched with delight as America ran crying from the building.

He got his biggest kick from Italy's death, though.

I just watched. I... Belonged to Russia. In every sense of the word...

A light, growing in intensity, shone from overhead, and we were all blinded for a moment. Then we saw. And what we saw... Oh, what we saw...

G:-

I called his name, loudly, quietly, fiercely, softly, and he did not come back to me. Not even when I ordered him to. I did not see Spain wrestling with a wild, cursing, crying Romano in order to hold him back. Neither did I see the brightness, as if the Sun had entered the building. I did not see England in some very strange robes, beating glorious white wings to stay aloft as he brandished a magic wand, and he pointed it at various scenes around the room. The air sparkled and I did not see it, as Wales woke up, as Austria's shirt was repaired, as Sealand's hat rolled back onto his head, as Latvia stopped crying, as China stopped throwing up, as France's wounds and bones healed.

I did not see. I just kissed Italy again and again, why wouldn't he come back, why wasn't he obeying orders, it wasn't supposed to end this way...

I felt. I felt as he kissed me back. As he came back to me. And I hugged him tightly and I cried.

L:-

The magnificent creature above us that looked like England but surely could not be turned to Russia and me. I looked at him. Unfeeling. My eyes glazed. Please end this, I sobbed inside, please let me die. But this angel was not so merciful as to allow that. He pointed his wand at Russia. And Russia disappeared.

I looked at where Russia had been. And burst into tears.

A:-

I saw a flash of light coming from behind me, and spun around. Inside the building. A gorgeous, shining light was coming from inside the building. I hurried back and threw the doors open.

For a second, I saw the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Then his wings gave out, and my England fell to the floor. I ran. And I caught him. His halo fell to the ground and rolled out the door, sounding heavy and metallic. His wings shrank rapidly into his back. His wand stopped glowing and crumbled into dust. The white robes began to resemble his tux more and more, until finally he was just wearing his tux.

I looked down at the unconscious form of England lying in my arms. 'What had I married?', I had asked myself earlier. I had my answer now. Someone who would always come through in the end, no matter what.

I didn't know what he had done. But he had done it right.

Author's Notes: This is quite possibly the most epic thing I've ever written. And now for a million and one interesting and educational footnotes.

It was really fun to write Sealand's and Germany's POVs, so expect more of this in future.

When Germany mentions his people drowning in notes, this refers, of course, to the hyperinflation their country suffered after WW1 (in Hetalia terms, when Italy was working for Germany creating money). There is a photo from that time that has always stuck in my mind, of a small child playing with wads of money because they cannot afford building blocks.

Where I come from, we are taught how the hero Sir Francis drake saved us from the evil Spanish Armada. He was really cool as well, calmly finishing his game of bowls before he went to fight them. Then, years later, we find out that our hero Sir Francis Drake was actually a pirate, and find it rather hard to believe. He's still an awesomely cool hero though.

According to Himaruya, the Narcissus rose and the aquilegia are the national flowers of England and America respectively. According to many Internet sources, however, the national flower of England is an "English rose", or simply "a red rose", and the national flower of America is "a rose". If this is true, it is confusing, would defeat the purpose of my mentioning the flowers in the first place, and is also just plain shit. So for the sake of clarity, canon, and my peace of mind, I went with Himaruya.

I fail for life at accents.

America objects to being called a yank, as yankee is a term that actually only applies to Northerners of the country, despite popular belief amongst foreigners, and America is both north and south of his country, so would be both a yankee and a Dixie (I believe this is an unoffensive term for Southerners?).

That's right, I've got the Republic or Ireland down as a homophobe. This is solely because of his Catholicism.

When Germany realised that the juice has been spiked, he doesn't mention Wales because he doesn't notice him and completely forgets his existence.

I never feel England's punk side is shown enough, so I gave it a go.

As with the first Hetalia fic I wrote, 'Lithuania's Lament', my own fiction is what has brought to my attention just how cruel Russia really is. And, just as with that first fic, I am surprised at how dark this turned out.

I was listening to 'Take a Bow' by Muse throughout the drunkenness, death, and things generally falling apart.

I am very satisfied with this ending.

But too many characters did impulsive things for there not to be repercussions... By which I mean, of course, a series of sequels...