Chapter 1

1.6K 24 22
                                    

One of my favourite quotes:

"We can't call people without wings angels so we call them friends."

-Trailer Park Boys





Russia, laid flat down on the floor, painfully stood up. The sounds of crunching, and the bright reflection of a rosy setting sun made him realize, all too suddenly, that he was currently standing on snow. A snowy field that oddly ressembled a field that he often visited when he was much younger.

Suddenly, a childs voice- a distinctly familiar voice- spoke out again, first speaking in english, only to slip into russian, and then back to english.

"You say you are Russia, yet you do not ressemble мой отец. So I must assume that you are lying."

(google tranlate//russian: my father)

Russia instantly recognized the usually monotone voice of his son, Bering. However, Russia did not remember recently going back to his land. He had been with America, on the American side of the american-canadian border, somewhere underneath the canadian Province of British Colombia.

Russia's train of thought was cut off when he heard a soft, yet threatening voice come from behind him.

"My little Lithuania did not tell  me we were having guests..."

And a whimper, or whine, of fear could be heard. Russia assumed that the whimper came from Lithuania. Funny, Russia didn't know Lithuania could be frightenned into making a sound like that.

Anyhow, Russia stood up, and snuck over, getting closer to the voices. Because it would seem that nobody had et spotted him.

Once in behind a tree, frozen,  dead, and having fallen some time ago, in this marvelous hiding spot, Russia could spy with ease at the scene that lay before him.

. One .

. Hour .

. Earlier .

America had been watching Bering play- or as Bering called it, experiment- with the science kit that they found after searching through Russia's old stuff that lied in the attic, collecting dust in total darkness. Yes, it was the American's home, but Russia often used it during his visits. After all, it was an isolated area, so Russia found more ease in the silent place. Could you blame him? Most cities in America are practically overun with cars, bikes, people watching their kids play on the street. And the nights were flooded with artificial lights that hid the stars.

They also found a dead hamster, the only thing left being bones, but shush. Russia still wonders to this day where his pet hamster had run off to, and it wouldnt necessarily be a good strategy for America to say;

'Oh, hey love! I found your hamster's dead remains from when it ran away and it froze it's ass off in your attic! Can I have a kiss now?'

Yeah. On second thought, America chose to chuck the hamster into the fire that was awaiting them downstairs, in the fireplace, when Russia wasn't looking.

But, if y'all were here to read about some dead pet hamster- which i would be glad to talk about- then we would get no where with the story, so back to the topic at hand;

(A/N: I got a wonderful inspiration- I forgot who, so I am really sorry about that- and I will be writing a little something about the hamster and it's life and so on. So, if you're interested in that, keep a look out)

America had been watching Bering, leaning against Russia, the Slav having fallen asleep on the small couch.

The soft- yet deep- snores of the Russian added a calming effect to the atmosphere, that was already quite peaceful.

Unfortunately, just when America yawned, beginning to feel drowsy, a small flash and a not-too-loud bang blinded him with a bright light.

First, he felt Russia dissapear, causing the American to hit the couch seat, still warm from when Russia had been sitting there. Then, as the light began to fade, no longer blinding him, America saw Bering, no longer in his chair, fading away.

And then the phone rang.

.

.

.

Italy was cooking when he faded away. During the fade, he lost all senses of touch, sight, smell, sound-  everything. And suddenly, he got all the senses back when he laned on a soft, silky, blanket-like object. 

Unfortunately, the moment his non-existent ears could hear again, serving their function, the Italien was met with a high pitched girly screaming. He also saw his father, Fascist Italy, sitting a few feet away from him, equally confuzzled.

If Italy had just looked behind him, he maybe could've avoided the frying pan that was heading towards his head.

.

.

.

Britain was also witness to a 'fade' as the writer keeps putting it, due to her goddamn sleep deprived brain being unable to be more original-.

France was cooking, and was carrying a tray of macarons over when she faded.

The macaron tray went with her.

Britain, doing his best to refrain from cursing, searched a bit, but ended up calling his sons, his soon-to-be-son-in-law, and his daughter-in-law, but to no avail. AFter his second try to call everybody, America picked up. 

However, before he could say a single word, the Brit faded, leaving shouts to come out of the phone. And soon enough, those shouts were cut off by the fade of the American.

.

.

.

Within less than an hour, all countries, no exceptions, had faded and reappeared in another world.

.

.

.

A/N: Was that good?

'Kay, anyways;

Sorry that this was short. Please take these, (in my opinion) wonderful songs from the 80s and 90s as a sorry

Thank you for reading my crap!

Two halves of chaos (hetalia-Countryhuman-crossover)Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora