I don't own Hetalia

I'm a jerk! I'm so so sorry for waiting a year to update. It's just that since I last updated it was my birthday and then I went back to school and I got buried under schoolwork (a 40 hour controlled assessment spread over 2 years, 3 hours of art a week, 2 history exams and a controlled assessment, one 4 hour controlled English assessment every half term, half a GCSE in cultural studies, etc.) but all of your lovely reviews, subscriptions and favourites made me want to finish this. I hope you enjoy it.

The nations in the meeting room were arguing, that wasn't something unusual of course, but the subject they were disputing was. They were fighting over whether they should start the meeting without Arthur.

"Come on he usually doesn't say anything until he shoots down my AWESOME ideas anyway" America argued.

"He wasn't even supposed to speak today" Switzerland joined in only agreeing because he wanted to get out as soon as possible.

"I think we should wait" Germany countered, no one was quite sure why he wanted to wait but he refused to go on with the meeting without Britain not many countries were on Germany's side but those that were, Norway, Romania and a few other countries, refused to start the meeting. Germany's statement set off another round of arguments with the voices of all the nations running over each other in a choir of disagreement. They were only silenced by the sound of a door slamming into the wall.

"See I told ya I knew where the room was" a young red headed man said as he lowered the foot he had just used to kick in the doors. The man looked fairly devilish with hair the colour of dried blood and emerald eyes topped by bushy red eyebrows he had an evil smirk gracing his face; he wore a dark blue suit with a paler blue shirt underneath and a white tie. Standing to his right was a man who looked a few years younger; he bore a scary resemblance to Arthur the key difference being that instead of the Englishman's blond locks he had a messy mop of brunette hair; he wore a white shirt with black overalls and muddy brown boots, in short he looked like a farmer. To the red heads right was a young boy with light ginger hair and the same eyebrows and eyes of his brothers, he wore a light green t-shirt and cargo shorts and he sat atop the shoulders of what looked like an older version of him the only difference being that the elder wore black jeans rather than shorts.

"Yeah that's why we burst into three other rooms before we found this one" the youngest sarcastically remarked.

"You!" Germany interrupted staring at the man dressed in blue with a look of mixed anger and horror

"Ah don't worry Jerry, I'm not here for you" the man replied breezily

"Jerry?" Italy whispered "I thought your name was Ludwig?" he questioned, confused.

"it is" Germany confirmed not wanting to deal with a confused Italy as well as the man who haunted his nightmares "why are you here then?" He asked still looking wary.

"take a guess" the Scotsman teased before being interrupted by Arthur's clone

"We're here to represent the UK" the young man stated in a thick welsh accent.

"what about Iggy?" America interrupted the tense conversation

"he's... Indisposed" the older green-wearing-ginger stated with a smirk on his face

"so who are you?" the ever clueless Italy asked a harmless smile gracing his features

"Wales" the brunette stated with a faraway look in his emerald eyes as he drifted over to England's usual seat and sat down calmly.

"I'm Ireland" the older light ginger stated, unceremoniously dropping the boy on his shoulders. The boy bounced back up immediately the smile never leaving his face. Ireland walked over to a dusty disused chair in between America and England's places marked with the Irish flag.

"I'm north Ireland!" the bubbly boy cried bouncing over to his brother and sat on Ireland's lap

"And I'm Scotland" the eldest said strolling over to stand between the two chairs. He leaned against Wales' seat

"Well" Germany stated slightly unsure of himself "let's get started. America you're first" the British Isles brothers slowly zoned out their thoughts drifting to their brother.

His heart pounded, his legs screamed in protest, his lungs desperately cried for more air and yet he soldiered on, forever running. One was advancing on him one of those cruel little demons he tried to run faster but his legs couldn't cope. The demon approached, it grabbed on to his knee cap almost tripping him up whilst yelling that word, that cursed, blessed word. The word that signalled both defeat and relief.

"Tig!"

Arthur sighed slowing to a stop and spreading his arms wide taking the opportunity to get his breath back. He glared at the giggling back of the isle of Skye who had now set her sights on New Zealand. A tanned face with a thick mop of brown hair popped up in front of Arthur a mischievous smile on his face.

"Aus' don't please" Arthur begged

"Why not, old man? You getting tired?" Australia taunted. Arthur merely panted unable to speak.

"It's alright, I wont" Australia relented the smirk still on his face "ooh look a penny!" he yelled ducking under Arthur's outstretched arms to touch the floor "oh wait no just a button" he looked up at Arthur faking an apologetic look "oops seems like you're unstuck" he then leaped up and giggled like a child before running off. Arthur took one final deep breath before setting off away from the cackling demons that chased behind. As he ran Arthur thought of only one thing; no matter how much he hated these 'family visits' he would always hate stuck in the mud far more.

15 minutes. 15 minutes is all it took for Scotland to start a competition with Denmark and Russia over who could drink the most. In 15 minutes the sheep and the cats that gravitated towards the snoozing Greece and Wales became aquatinted and began to watch the chaos unfold, content for their masters to remain none the wiser. In fifteen minutes Northern Ireland and Northern Italy began giving piggy backs to each other running laps around the room and having Romano time them.

"Two minutes thirty nine" the frustrated Italian lied, he hadn't bothered to time them, he didn't even want to speak to them, but hey anything is better than work.

The taller Irishman strolled over to them after slipping away from the numerous fights he started between random nations

"Any reason why you did that?" Romano asks the ginger nodding over to where Romania was trying to take a bite out of Hungary. Italy had already run off with a squealing Northern Ireland on his back.

"Just setting a mood" Ireland casually responded holding up his phone to capture the moment waiting for Italy to come into the background for the perfect shot of the chaos "I plan on using this as evidence the next time arty and I fight over me not coming to meetings" he took a few more pictures as the two of them sank into an uncomfortable silence.

"Why don't you come to meetings?" The Italian asked partly to satisfy his curiosity and partly to break the awkward atmosphere. His question made Ireland pause staring off into space. "Because I'm lazy, because I know it makes him happy whenever he represents me, because I'm socially awkward, those are the usual excuses take your pick" knowing he wouldn't get a straight answer from the man he let the uncomfortable silence settle.

He had to hand it to the brothers they sure knew how to cause chaos. In one corner the small drinking contest had turned into a tournament with different levels of difficulty, at least ten different nations were competing and at least twenty more were betting on them. Cats had begun to scratch at Wales' boots and sheep had begun to graze on Greece's hair. The small fights Ireland had started were now full on brawls between the more violent nations. Whilst framing the entire thing were the younger nations playing around the edges having piggy back and wheelbarrow races, their squeals and shrieks of delight mingled in the air with the screaming and grunting from the fighters and the cheering coming from the drinking crowd. All of that was underlined by a few nations still sitting around the table tired, bored or shocked casually chatting to one another. All the noise was getting on Romano's nerves grating at his eardrums and invading his mind, he considered yelling, knowing that no one would hear him. Then it all stopped.

The doors snapped open and silence rang through the room louder than the noise that preceded it. In any other situation the image of Arthur with many laughing children, and one or two grown men besides, clambering on him would be cause for immense laughter. However, what stopped that laughter and caused the stunned awed and frightened silence was the look of pure fury that was currently adorning Arthur's face. No this wasn't Arthur, this was more reminiscent of captain Kirkland terror of the seven seas. This didn't seem to phase the children who chose to use the infuriated man as a climbing frame, if anything his anger encouraged them.

"We'll only be two minutes Art. Just play some games with them braud. Don't worry big bro we'll be back in a jiff" the short sentences were spoken in anger and laced heavily with sarcasm, they were clearly quotes from an earlier conversation.

"Calm down we haven't been that long" a tipsy Scotland yelled attempting to stand before quickly falling back down.

"It's been seven hours." Arthur stated exhaustion creeping into his voice. "Seven hours of stuck in the mud and manhunt with these monsters" he lifted his arm with surprising strength considering there were three children attatched to it, all of whom seemed delighted that he had turned into a moving climbing frame.

"Aww come on old man haven't you enjoyed playing with us?" the twenty-some-thing-year-old Australian currently glued to his leg asked with all the innocence in the world. Arthur kicked him off and gave him a death glare.

"Touch me one more time and I'll start sending the prisoners over again" Arthur threatened. Australia stuck out his tongue at the glaring nation and quickly scampered over to the table where he started talking to a nation no one had noticed before

"Yo Canadia!"

The other grown man, who looked similar to Australia and was presumably his slightly calmer brother New Zealand, swung off of Arthur and beckoned for the other children to follow him.

Now free of the clambering creatures Arthur collected his four brothers, shoving Wales awake as he strode past, he plucked Northern Ireland from Italy's shoulders and balanced the boy on his own, he grabbed hold of the considerably inebriated Scotland by his ears and dragged the stumbling red head over to Ireland who he pushed forwards with his one free hand. The rage never seemed to leave Arthur as he stormed out of the room. Northern Ireland turned back to wave at this new friends and the dawdling Wales gently shut the door behind the five of them.

And it was with that gentle click that the entire room was shaken out of it's shock, it almost felt as if some kind of spell had been lifted. Awkward coughs and shuffling feet were all that was heard as the nations slowly packed up their belongings and dispersed.

That day was rarely spoken of again, the next meeting Arthur was there the same as ever and the nations argued as they always did and it was almost as If those four oddly terrifying men had never been seen... Almost.

and... DONE! :D. I've got to say that I'm not really happy with this chapter, it just seems a bit... :/ But I couldn't leave you with nothing for any longer. I promise next time I'll have the whole thing at the very least planned if not written. I'd like to say thanks to everyone who subscribed and favourited the story, and for some reason me, especially chibi-unicorn-girl for PM-ing me and giving me that final push to post this, despite the fact that I'm typing on an iPod at quarter to three in the morning in Turkey. I have one or two one shots in the works and a few stories waiting but in about three weeks I'll be in my final year of secondary school so there's a 50/50 chance that anything will get posted soon. Thank you so much for reading my story. And finally please leave a review, they make me smile :)