The Commonwealth of Nations Wingman Brigade

AN: Deanon from the hetalia meme. The prompt was for the Commonwealth attempting to help England pull America; this fic contains Commonwealth-OCs (but not in an irritating way, I hope) and eventual USUK. Warning for mild language, too.

One

It was, perhaps unexpectedly, Antigua-and-Barbuda that noticed England's shift in mood.

England is, by nature, easily enraged with a love of warfare and a crippling embroidery addiction, but he's different when he falls in love. He's still harsh even to his family but he's never quite as snappy, even when Antigua-and-Barbuda tries his best to start an argument with him. (It's all in good health. Antigua-and-Barbuda has always gotten along with England quite well, but there's nothing in the world more entertaining than getting on England's nerves.)

Antigua-and-Barbuda is the representative for islands with brilliant climates and warm weather, so it's only natural he would attempt to irritate England by shoving him into the Caribbean Sea. Antigua-and-Barbuda had expected England to be angry at getting drenched, wringing out his suit jacket and muttering a variety of swear words under his breath. But England had merely sighed, pulled himself up onto the pier and walked away.

That was the moment Antigua-and-Barbuda knew England was in love.

Two

It's in Australia's nature to be mischievous, but in an impish way, rather than malicious. He likes to spend his days sprawled out on the sand whilst dreaming up ways to get New Zealand into trouble. It's routine, living a relatively laid-back life and letting his Boss worry about everything for him. That's why, whenever England visits, Australia can devote all his time to getting England drunk.

Australia is proud of Fosters lager. It's his favourite brand and it's by far the best lager in the world because it's Australian through and through, so he's always keen to force England into drinking it. Luckily England doesn't seem to mind because he's quite fond of alcohol, even though he's never really been good at holding his drink. Tonight is no exception.

"You know," England announces, his words slurred and his hands shaking as he tries not to drop the beer can. "You know, I fucking hate America. He's so immature. I mean... I mean, you turned out great, Austr... Austra... 'lia. You didn't need my help all the time but America's jus' hopeless."

Australia doesn't know why England brought America up at all, so he asks- subtlety is not Australia's strong point. "What're you talking about America for?"

"He's a twat," England snaps. "I hate him. Hate, hate, can't be bothered; make him shut up, would you?"

England is rambling. Australia realises the real meaning behind England's words and he's extremely amused. "You in love, Gramps?"

"No," England says, quickly. "No, I'm not. Fuck, no. America and I? Haha, give me some credit, Australia; I have standards!"

But it's too late because Australia knows the truth.

Three

Though Mozambique is in the Commonwealth of Nations, she was never actually part of his Empire. She joined the Commonwealth because she quite liked England and his closest brothers- she's not a rich country by any means, but England has always been willing to help. She likes to think of herself as one of his favourites.

"Here," she says, seizing England's hand and leading him into the streets of Maputo. It's her capital and it's cripplingly poor but the people are optimistic. "You should wear brightly-coloured clothes because it keeps you happy. See my people? See them smiling?"

England doesn't understand what she means. He feels pity for her and she doesn't want that, not from him.

"If you wear brightly-coloured clothes, and if you're happy because you look happy," she says, "America will like you more."

England's cheeks go bright red and she laughs.

Four

Even though Pakistan has been suspended twice from the Commonwealth, he still has some sort of respect for the countries of the United Kingdom. Just a little bit, but it's enough, he supposes.

"This," Pakistan says, slumping and leaning against the trunk, "is the Cedrus deodara. It's my national tree. Whaddya think?"

"It's..." England begins, trailing off. "It's..."

There's silence, and Pakistan smirks.

"It's quite tall," England says. "I like the shade of green."

He's weakened. He'd usually be cruel or insulting, not mellow and complimentary. He'd usually insult the tree and then insult everything Pakistan stands for.

"Don't change who you are for other people," Pakistan warns. "Don't you dare change for anyone, England."

"Why're you telling me this?" England asks, raising an eyebrow.

Because you shouldn't change for America's sake, Pakistan thinks, but he doesn't say it aloud.

Five

Sri Lanka is modest, but she's not called The Pearl of the Indian Ocean for nothing. Her country is one of natural beauty and exotic plant-life, grand literature and performing arts. Her traditional recipes and cuisine are celebrated the world over.

But she's not arrogant.

"Please," she says, her hands clasped together with plantain leaf wrapped around her fingers, "listen to what I'm going to tell you, England. Because if you don't learn how to cook, you will never attract a husband. I know this better than anyone."

"I don't need help with cooking," England replies. He's blatantly lying. "I'm fine, thank you, but I appreciate the offer, Sri Lanka. And anyway, who said I was looking for a husband...?"

She smiles. "England, dear- you need all the help you can get."

Six

Shanto is a type of traditional Guyanese music. Guyana plays it with his citizens and he often takes on the role of guitarist- not only is he excellent with guitars, he's also a brilliant singer. England has always said, with a warm smile and closed eyes, that he could listen to Guyana's music all day.

"It's calming," he admits. "And I've been quite... stressed recently."

"Why?" Guyana asks, even though he already knows.

The entire Commonwealth knows, after all. They just don't want to let England know that they know. They're keeping his secret a secret even from him and Guyana finds it confusing but he won't admit that.

"Because work has been getting to me," England says. "You know... European referendums, fluctuating political alliances and the like. I'm sure you know what I mean."

"Sure," Guyana says, picking up his guitar. "Yeah, I do."

Just not in the way England thinks.

Seven

Part of Vanuatu's name means home, and he's often told England that he's always welcome in his lands. His islands are paradises in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and he's proud of his jurisdiction, even if it's not as large as other countries.

"You gettin' hitched soon, England?" Vanuatu asks, rolling his khaki trousers to his knees so he can go paddling in the waters. "Have your honeymoon here! I'll make sure you get a good hotel, yeah?" He winks. "I'll make sure the wedding night's not disturbed, yeah?"

"Everyone I know keeps asking me if I'm getting married," England says, frowning. "Why?"

Vanuatu freezes, aware he's said too much. "No reason. Just giving you the offer. C'mon, let's go swimming."

England sighs, but he's smiling nonetheless, removing his shoes and socks. "Alright."

Eight

Kente cloth is always intricate with unique patterns and shapes, made from interwoven strips of silk and cotton. It's Ghana's favourite thing to wear so she wears it all the time, even when England says the more eccentric patterns give him a headache to look at. The colours all have meanings. She's saddened when people don't know what they mean, so she likes educating those that aren't aware.

"I'm giving you this," Ghana says. "Mozambique tells me she tried to give you brightly-coloured clothes and you turned them down. Well, you're going to wear this Kente cloth because I'm not giving you a choice. Understand?"

The word 'Ghana' means Warrior King, so it makes sense that Ghana herself is a Warrior Queen. She's always terrified England, and whenever she tells him to do something, he does it.

"Yes," he says, in a high-pitched voice laced with terror. "I understand perfectly."

"Good," she says, passing him the scarf she's made for him. "It's blue and silver. That means it represents love and joy. Don't be afraid to be in love."

"I'm not in love," England insists, squirming in his chair.

"Of course you're not," Ghana says, with a knowing smile. "But when you do fall for someone, wear this and it'll help you accept it."

Nine

Sierra Leone loves playing football. He always wears his national team's football kit because he never wants to miss a chance to play. That's why he loves spending time with England, because England is just as football-mad and they often engage in games with Sierra Leone's locals.

"Think fast," Sierra Leone calls, as he delivers an almighty kick to the soccer ball and blasts it towards where England is standing.

"Fuck!" England says, as he misses the ball and it flies past his shoulder, straight into the net behind him that he was meant to be guarding.

"You're a lame goalkeeper," Sierra Leone laughs, patting England on the shoulder good-naturedly. "You're never usually this absent-minded, though."

"Sorry," England says. "I was miles away. There's been a lot on my mind lately."

"Right," Sierra Leone says, frowning.

It's obviously America that's on England's mind, but Sierra Leone isn't allowed to mention America to England- Australia made that very clear. So instead, Sierra Leone says, "If there's some hot girl you're thinking about, just tell her."

England coughs, prim to the bitter end. "You... You think so?"

"Yeah," Sierra Leone insists. "Who knows? She might like you, too. Who wouldn't? You're a decent enough guy. Y'know, when you're not murdering people..."

"That's it," England snaps, but he's only pretending to be angry. "Rematch!"

Sierra Leone grins. "Bring it on!"

Ten

Kiribati loves dancing. There is one golden rule when it comes to his country's dances- the dancers are not allowed to smile as it's considered vulgar because it breaks character. Some people use theatre productions to act, but Kiribati uses dancing.

"If you learn how to dance," Kiribati says, "and you learn how to play music like Guyana can, then you'd be a really fun guy, England. You'd have no trouble with getting a girlfriend." He remembers the rumour that's going around the Commonwealth and quickly adds, "Or boyfriend."

"Pakistan told me not to change who I am," England sniffs. "And I'm content with being single, thank you."

"It's not about changing," Kiribati says. "It's about having fun. Admit it, you'd love to be able to dance like me."

England laughs. "Alright, I confess; it does look like fun."

Eleven

Whenever England visits, Dominica tends to serve him with Tamarinds. England likes the taste of them- he's never actually said it, but his eyes always light up when Dominica gives him them, and England sometimes visits Dominica just to have Dominican Tamarinds. Though Tamarinds are not only grown in Dominica's farmlands, she knows that her Tamarinds are the best in the world.

On this particular occasion, she breaks routine and gives him passion fruit.

"What?" is all England can say when she hands him the strange purple item. "This doesn't look very appetising."

"I don't usually eat it raw," she says, taking back the fruit. "I turn it into juice. I'll make you some, if you like." She winks. "And I'll make it alcoholic..."

"Excellent," England says, straightening his back and smirking. "I could do with a good, stiff drink after the journey I've had to get here." His smirk falters. "I've missed you. It's been quite a while since I've last seen you."

Dominica smiles. As much as he pretends to dislike his extended family, he cares for all of them. He just never admits it. He's never been good at expressing affection.

"I'll give you bottles and bottles," she says. "All the passion fruit juice I can make. It's a romantic drink, you know. You should share it with someone special."

"Oh, Dominica," England sighs. "Do you all think I'm lonely? Every Commonwealth realm I've visited so far has been far too interested in my love life- and trust me, I don't have one."

"You should get one," she urges. "If you find someone you like, get them. Don't let them slip through your fingers."

Dominica has always been a hopeless romantic.

Twelve

Gambia is the smallest country in mainland Africa but he's never let it get him down. He goes fishing to pass the time and helps out his people when he can. They're poor, but they're stable. He likes to think of himself as a country with strong morals. His national religion is Islam, and he follows it closely.

(If he doesn't have faith, Gambia doesn't have very much at all. He needs something to cling on to, something that gets him through the harsh summers and dismal winters.)

That's why he opposes England's feelings for America. They are male, and men should not love other men. But when Gambia sees England with America, and he sees England smiling, and he sees England genuinely happy when he's normally just angry...

Well, Gambia can make an exception, for a while.

Thirteen

Nigeria looks over his country with despair. His nation has poor human rights and there's so much crime and violence he sometimes wonders why he bothers waking up every morning. Whenever England visits (and it's not often England musters the courage to step foot in Nigeria at all), England always promises to try his best to help. He knows he's caused most, if not all, of Nigeria's problems, but he's sorry for it all and he wants to help.

"Be happy," Nigeria says. "Seize your chances to be happy, England. You're lucky to have those chances."

"What do you mean?" England says.

Nigeria gives him a harsh stare. "You know what I mean."

"America," England says as the realisation strikes him. The name falls from his lips like a song, like a secret he shouldn't have uttered. "How... How did you know?" Even though Nigeria doesn't reply, England still works it out. "The Commonwealth know, don't they? Australia's told everyone, hasn't he?"

"Seize your chance," Nigeria says. He smiles. It's a weak smile.

Fourteen

"I like your flag," England says as he sits in Malaysia's living room. "I really like it, in fact."

"Oh?" Malaysia says, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"

"No reason," England says, brushing aside the question. "Can I take one home with me?"

Malaysia looks over at his flag and gives it a once-over. He bursts into hysterical laughter when he realises why England adores it so much. It's because it's ever so similar to the flag of the United States.

"Take that one," Malaysia offers. "Think of it as a gift... Grandpa."

Fifteen

When Brunei gained his independence from the United Kingdom, he immediately joined the Commonwealth on the same day. It's because he likes his freedom, but he still likes Britain, too. Especially Wales- Wales doesn't talk a lot and Brunei loves talking. But Brunei likes England, too. England has never argued with Brunei, in all the years they've known each other.

Homosexuality is highly illegal according to Brunei law, but Brunei doesn't raise the issue concerning America when England spends time in Brunei's house. They don't see each other often, after all, and a part of Brunei thinks that, if England really wants to risk his morality by engaging in such a relationship, then it's none of Brunei's business.

Brunei and Gambia agree on a lot of things.

Sixteen

"Do you what to know what would make you really attractive?" Samoa asks, as he sits with England on Matareva Beach.

England collapses into the sand, flinging out his arms and stretching out his legs as he replies, "No, but I'm sure you'll tell me anyway."

Samoa grins. "A Pe'a tattoo. It's really sexy to foreigners, or so I hear."

Curious, England sits up and says, "What's that?"

"It's a tattoo that covers the body from waist to knees," Samoa explains.

England thinks for a moment before his mouth flies open from surprise, letting out a gasp and asking, "You don't mean-?"

"Yeah, it covers your butt too," Samoa says with a shrug. "But it's worth it, right?"

England tries not to look horrified. "Thank you for the suggestion but I think, on this occasion, I'll pass."

.*To be continued*.