It was an accident

5.

Third POV:

Soon, only a few nations were left in the room, the German and North American siblings among them. Germany was still occupied with trying to find his Ibuprofen while Prussia stood next to him trying to help speed up the process by giving suggestions as to where it might be. The Nordics had reluctantly left as well, Matthias convincing them to give the siblings time to talk instead of coming over to check if they were okay, something Amelia noticed and was grateful for. 

America stood and turned to her siblings with a smile, but Canada wasn't having it and fixed her with an expression that told her as much. She lessened her smile a bit, "Oh, quit being a sour puss. What was I supposed to do, let him hit me? No way."

"No, of course not," Matthew responded, sighing, he dropped the look and held the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, as if he were getting a headache.

"You should have punched him," Amelia's sister, West Mexico, stated a-matter-of-factly. 

"Maria!" Matthew turned to chastise his younger sister while her twin laughed, patting her on the back, and Amelia gave her a big smile.

"What? All it would take is one punch."

"That's doesn't matter!"

"Sure it does, everyone else would be too freaked out to retaliate."

"That's the problem, Maria! Excessive violence will only make her a bigger target," Matthew said, lowering his voice.

"Mattie, give it a rest," Amelia said, putting her hand on her twin's shoulder, "It'll be fine. I'm sure he'll only have a bruise for an hour or two until it heals," she reasoned. 

She began to get the feeling they were being watched and looked over, past her siblings and at the opposite side of the table, to see that Russia was watching them with curious eyes. "Come on," she said, putting an arm around her twin as she began leading her siblings out of the room, "let's get some fresh air while we still can." 

At that, the four of them walked out of the room and to the lobby, America taking the time to wave at Denmark and the other Nordics before going out the door with her siblings. They ended up staying there for the rest of the break, sitting on the metal benches and catching up with each other, planning on staying the night at America's house so they could have a sibling day, something they all felt they desperately needed.

Back inside, nations began gathering in the meeting room once again, the fifteen minutes not seeming nearly as long as they were. England stormed into the meeting room, heading back to his seat near the head of the table, having angerly broken away from his siblings moments earlier. They had been chastising him for trying to hit their niece, his daughter, until he got fed up with them telling him how to act towards his own child. It wasn't his fault she was being a brat. He plopped down into his chair, not noticing France get up from his.

France wasn't much happier with England's behavior towards their daughter than England's siblings were. He learned from his mistake yesterday, however, and got a few seats away from him, so he was standing at the head of the table, before confronting him. "Your treatment of Amérique, 'as become ridiculous, Angleterre," the frenchman said, glancing briefly at the still-steady stream of nations entering the room, many of whom had taken to standing on the left side of the room, sensing the fight between France and England before it truly started.

He ignored the other nations and turned once more towards England, who's head had snapped up to look at him, anger very apparent on his face. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!" the englishman snapped angerly, standing once more.

"You tried to 'it 'er because she was laughing, mon cher, don't you sink zat is a little far?" Spectating nations had formed a small crowd on the other side of the room, something France wasn't entirely peeved about, mostly because he wouldn't be surprised if he ended up needing someone to step in and stop a possible fist-fight.