'Looking For Tony' - An America Canada England Story

Warning: Contains ACE (AmericaxCanadaxEngland...in whatever order) and it's R18

Russia kidnapped Tony.

America knew that calling him commie bastard wasn't very diplomatic these days, especially because Russia seemed to have been living through quite a moody phase lately. But taking away Tony was a tad too aggressive, wasn't it?

Naturally, America had left the States in furious frenzy and landed on Russian land causing havoc. But no matter how hard he searched for his alien friend, he was nowhere to be found. And Russia only grinned his smug grin, as if he was teaching America a lesson. God he hated that face.

So he ended up looking like a loser child, a victim of bully, and ran to the United Kingdom, throwing himself in England's arms. He probably spent two days stuffing his face with fastfood and scones.

He was slumped into the couch, still pouting, when he saw the news on TV. There had been 'supernatural', 'apocalyptic', 'extraterrestrial' (depended on the ones giving the testimony) sightings in the icefield region of Alaska.

At that moment it clicked for him. Of course. Alaska. This was one huge historical joke for Russia. Not funny.

Tony was surely freezing up there and America felt immense worry for his alien companion.

Thus he had spontaneously grabbed England by the collar, the poor man spilled his tea, and coerced him to tag along. "I'm coming, Tony! And your beloved England is coming, too!"

There was only one problem. To be frank, Alaska didn't belong to his top favourite states ever. Sure, it has amazing landscape and all that but it wasn't a secret that he hated the cold.

So they needed a winter guide.

No one better than Canada.

Canada, for one of the few times in his life was not a happy camper. Not only Did... Kumajuro? ("My Name is Kumajirou. Who are you~?") break all his bottles of pure 100% maple syrup but the pancakes....The pancakes ....

Canada nor 'Matthew' wanted to comprehend or think about the horrors that happened to his pancakes. It was nightmare worthy and the blond had decided that it was not something he wanted to think about anymore. .... God damnit Kumeroro, I only had thirteen of those! ("...It's Kumajirou..")

Sighing, Canada rolled back over on the couch, laying on his face buried in pillows and old quilts England probably didn't remember sewing for him. Hell, England didn't even remember his name nor even who he was most of the time. The more depressing note was that anyone who did seem to see him thought he was America, and then promptly harassed him for the unpaid debts and get beat up. Of course, lets not forget America did know who he was most of the time and loved to harass poor Canada about it. (referring to the terrible stamping of the infernal american flag onto his forehead without his knowledge.)

His hands were threaded through his hair without his knowledge and he was muttering nonsensical mashes of french and english when the door was banged on roughly. Not expecting any visitors nor for the bumbling american bastard who was banging away to even bother to knock, he swore loudly before rolling off the couch and banging his knee against the coffee table.

His filter was broken it seemed from the god awful morning of horror and swearing again, he stormed over to the door and flung it open, violet eyes unseeing in his anger. "God damnit! Qui a la baise est frapper à ma porte! C'est neuf heures du matin trou du cul! Votre pire encore que l'Amérique, claquant mes portes et estampage mon front pauvres. Mes crêpes! NINE IN THE MORNING." He was seething and just a loud enough to be heard, but nowhere near a yell quite yet and god damn was he grumpy I mean-


"Oh..." His face had to be so red right now, it wasn't even funny.

" I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!" Ah... Yes, there's that soft, well known quiet voice of Canada now that never seemed to be louder than a whisper half the time. He hoped they didn't notice his boxers. Maple leaves were cute, but not cute enough to show them. Man he felt suspiciously naked. Note to self; never answer the door grumpy and only wearing boxers with Fluffy hair that suspiciously looks like you have been shagged when you were supposed to be feeding a certain polar bear who, in revenge, broke your precious maple syrup bottles and destroyed your pancakes.

..... Man, he wished Francis had stayed to make breakfast.

England was not happy, to say the least.

He had been enjoying a perfectly nice cup of tea, when a certain idiotic, annoying, loudmouthed, handsome, stupid prat came bursting in, sobbing about his rude alien friend. Now, that would not have been too bad, especially if it meant comfort sex. However, America HAD knocked over his cup of tea, ruining Arthur's embroidery project, and then proceeded to gorge himself on the contents of the British nation's fridge and freezer. England had spent the rest of the evening lecturing the idiot, before making him sleep on the couch, only to have Alfred spend part of the night watching shows about conspiracy theories, and then dragging Arthur halfway across the globe to some... other country. Cameroon? Caucasia? Canadia?

Nevertheless, Arthur had barely slept on the plane, and now was being dragged to someone else's house where he wouldn't even get the luxury of being able to shag the rowdy American. And then, to top things off, the other nation greeted them in angry French. French! Arthur growled irritably at the thought. However, this was not Francis, and Arthur knew this young man from somewhere... Matthew! Ah, yes, sweet, gentle Matthew who never dragged Arthur on a red eye flight across the globe. He supposed he could forgive the lad's French speaking.

Arthur coughed, trying to diffuse the situation. "I'm terribly sorry to have disturbed you, lad. You know how hard it is to deal with this idiot," Arthur nodded over to Alfred, "May we enter and give you a chance to get dressed?" Arthur looked over at Matthew's interesting choice of boxers. Then again... Matthew did seem all ruffled and messy, perhaps it had been a busy night for the young man.

"Do you perchance have a houseguest? I wouldn't want to disturb. Perhaps I could just take this berk over to a hotel so we can get some rest," and perhaps some good sex, Arthur added mentally. In fact, that seemed like quite the option.

America hated it whenever his brother spoke French, it usually happened at times where he was mad over something really important. Like pancakes. France explained that it was the French passion inside of Canada. A wild beast resting and always waiting for a moment to break free...or something like that.

But Canada's pancakes were totally unimportant at the moment. They had the mission to rescue his beloved Tony, a rabid England fanalien. Speaking of England, that guy had ADD hands lately. Those hands often found their way underneath America's shirt. It was as if he wanted sex or something, but that was not possible, because England must have been worried sick about Tony.

"This is serious emergency guys," he said while they were seated around Canada's kitchen table. "I have summoned the Blond Brotherhood, heh awesome name, to rescue Tony the alien. Our next stop is Alaska."

Canada looked seriously pissed off for some reason. America had never seen him that way before...well except from that one time he made him cry hundreds of years ago.

Canada almost squeaked when England spoke, glancing back into his house. His polar bear, whatever his name was, wasn't to be seen So Canada opened the door the rest of the way. "Oh please, do come in. Forgive me for being so rude earlier." He wasn't going to even berate America over the dents in the newest door, it wasn't worth it. As everyone entered Canada shut the door behind them and showed them to his kitchen where he offered them both Coffee and tea and scones before excusing himself to be dressed, hyper sensitive over being seen in this state anymore.

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Canada wasn't going to lie. If asked he was going to say straight up that the only reason he had buried his face in his hands was to hide how pissed off he was and that he was two-seconds away from wrapping his hands around America's neck and ending the fools life and claim that bitch's lands. Except of course, Canada couldn't do that, of course not.... (It's not like he's one of the largest country's or anything. Nope. He wouldn't be a complete badass if he just snapped. It was impossible.)

Eventually, his breathing was even and his voice was soft when he spoke up. "This is a ridiculous idea. Why do you even need me? This is your land we're talking about. Shouldn't you know her better than I do?" Even if Canada voiced that he honestly knew better. He was a lot closer to the young girl with a soft tilt of a russian accent than America was, even if he was her caretaker. Not only that, but she had Russia's beautiful eyes and damn, Canada wasn't going to lie, they were delicious and He could look at them for a long time. Just not on the girl because Canada, as a man, wasn't afraid to admit Alaska was a bit of a creeper, going from one extreme of her 'parents' personality to the next.

Definitely wasn't best to be exposed to her too often.


"I mean.... Of course I'll help you out America." He sighed softly before continuing on. "But You owe me one. Again." He just didn't know what America would owe him. A good hundred years or three of never having to see him again? He'd definitely have to think on it.

"I don't want to rescue the damned alien. All he does is call me fucking limey. He's an absolute prat and probably went back to his own planet. Good riddance, if you ask me," England crossed his arms and huffed. He sighed and took a sip of tea. "Mark, don't encourage your brother's awful behavior," Arthur lectured the quieter nation, before mentally cursing himself. The other's name was probably Maxwell.. or Malcolm.

"And if we're going into the Alaskan wilds, why are you asking me of all people? I'm unsuited for this nonsense, and I'm not going to freeze my arse off for an ungrateful, rude alien that won't even be there!" England snapped at America. So perhaps half of his anger was that the younger man kept ignoring his sexual advances in favor of finding the annoying alien, Arthur still had good reason to despise Tony.

"Why don't we go home? I'm sure your stupid alien will come back in a week," Arthur huffed. He just wanted to stay inside with a warm cup of tea. Tromping around in the Alaskan wilds was most definitely not his idea of fun. If England wasn't dead set on sleeping with the American, Alfred was going to be sleeping on the couch for the rest of the year, if not, the decade.

"Can I apologize again, Canadia? This twit is obviously out of his mind," Arthur sighed. But he did care for Alfred, despite his protests.

The look America gave to England. It was everything in one. Disappointment, accusation, sadness and everything inbetween and all around. "I-I thought you were worried sick about Tony, cause Tony really loves you and all. And besides, I thought you cared enough for me to help!" Alfred's expression transformed into a pout. "Seems like I was wrong."

Marcus however was his soul brother, his faithful friend who would always help him no matter what, because America had always been his awesome guru. America, being the master of filtered hearing, failed to get the hint of reluctance in Canada's agreement to help him out.

"Awesome, bro! I know my states like the white stain in my boxers but I gotta admit I'm a bit creeped out by her territory. And you know how I hate to stay in the cold, so I hardly visit that place. We'll need a guide, cause I know you like to visit Alaska. For whatever reason..."

America rose from his seat, almost knocking the chair off and slammed his fist against the poor kitchen table. The mugs and scones clattered at the force. "So, who's in?"

Wide blue eyes shone in anticipation, looking at the two men with a hopeful expression.

Matthew rolled his eyes, his arms resting behind his head as he leaned back in his chair, not caring that he was teetering precariously on the back two legs. "I already said I would do it." He mumbled tiredly, violet eyes searching the ceiling for a spot to focus on so he wouldn't act on the spike of anger setting him off. God damnit, why couldn't anyone seem to get his name right? It was getting ridiculous and Canada felt like he was going to swear and take advantage of the 'longest unprotected border' he shared with America. Call him bad, but he probably would and could do it if he wouldn't talk himself into feeling so bad about it.

America was a weird one though. Really, did he has to mention a certain type of white stain in his boxers? It was rather embarrassing and Canada was almost mortified to know he knew it better than America did, which left him feeling like he had been way too close to America's more masculine anatomy recently. The two legs hovering over the ground thundered as they hit the granite flooring and he scooted his chair just a bit farther from the table before returning to his previous activities.

"Alright then, England...." He hummed, before focusing his gaze on said country. "I believe it's your turn to say yes." He smirked somewhat, a rarity in itself as he dropped his arms and placed his elbows on the table, his chin resting in his hands as he watched the annoyed country, his smirk growing wider as each moment passed.

America you have him whipped. He'll never say no.

It didn't hurt that America had the strangest, most adorable pout focused on the peeved elder country. Not that that was what Canada thought or anything. He just figured that's how the U.K. saw it. Yep. Of course.

America had used that look, and it wasn't fair. The other nation had centuries of practice as a child! To England, that look was every bit as effective as it had been when Alfred was still a little colony. Arthur tried to squeeze his eyes shut, but the whining from America was still irresistible. The older nation sighed, and ruefully resigned himself to his fate.

"Fine, we'll go look for your stupid bloody alien. However, I will not agree that we have any sort of friendship. The berk does nothing but insult me. I am simply helping him for your sake, America," Arthur groaned, still annoyed with himself for yet again caving to please the spoiled nation. "Plus, I feel that I must try to ease poor young Maxim's exposure to your utter daftness," England gave Canada a sympathetic look.

"As for the white stain in your boxers, Alfred, I'm surprised you missed me so much," England snickered softly, satisfied that he could at least get a jab in, even if he had been roped into the ridiculous quest to find the alien that he didn't even like.

"Let's just get this nonsense over with," Arthur sighed again. He just wanted this to be over so he could go home with the two nations and finally relieve some of his sexual frustration- wait, Arthur had referred to both Alfred and Matthew. Damn, he really was turning into a kinky old man. It would be best never to admit that to the two, he decided.

Alfred promptly squealed in delight, pumping his fist in the air and generally oozed happy vibes. He attacked the two nations with crushing hugs, probably enough to break one or two bones were they normal humans.

But then England had to comment about the white stain, making him blush a deep red and glare at the other with venom that lost its bite because of the embarrassed blush.

"A-anyway let's not waste any more time. We need supplies and proper clothing."

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America liked Alaska, really. But he always made sure to avoid the icy deserts. It was a landscape of white, blue, grey and some more white. So fucking boring, he was going to die.

Then the harsh wind hit mercilessly agains his face, cheeks already reddened and freezing. The wind stung and made his eyes tear up a little bit. Fuck, he was going to sob. He hated cold, so so much it was not funny. His gloved hands pulled the fur hoodie tighter to his face. I need a warm cuddle, whined his inner voice. And he found himself silently looking at the two companions with pleading eyes.

"You better thank me and offer your planet to me later when this is over, Tony," said America through clattering teeth.

Canada's professional guide had successfully led them to an intimidating looking cave. It seemed to consist of rock and crystallised ice.

"So...who's gonna enter first? I'm brave enough, mind you, but maybe one of you is especially hot for a daring move; seriously I won't object!"

(( S-So Kingy and Kirk made me take over Canada's role :D;;;? ))


Matthew couldn't help but snort softly at Alfred's dark red blush, wondering if Arthur had noticed. Probably. The man was a closet pervert and was probably worse than Papa Francis in some ways. Though, at least Arthur had the decency not to prance around in the nude.

He sighed softly when Arthur got his name wrong again, deciding not to say anything. He would just... silently fume about it over here in his little corner in invisibility and whatnot.

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While Matthew was quite used to the cold, since part of his country consisted of the goddamn North Pole, he usually avoided tromping around in the frozen tundras unless he knew he was near a settlement of one of his natives. It was always safer to be with others when traveling in a dangerously cold place such as this.

When they finally arrived at a cave, seemingly made entirely out of ice, he huffed and rubbed his arms, trying to stay warm now that they had stopped walking. Really, what was Alfred's rude alien friend doing in a cave in the middle of Alaska?

"You're sure you're not scared, Al? It's not like we'd blame you, eh? It's a big scary cave, after all." Matthew smirked a little bit. Oh, how he loved to tease Alfred. His flustered faces were so cute... er... amusing. Not cute. No way.

Arthur heartily enjoyed the blush that spread across America's face. Apparently one of the older nation's comments had gotten through to the silly boy. The blush on his face was certainly not unbecoming on Alfred.

"Yes, yes. Let's just get this stupid nonsense over with. However, I'm sure this will be nothing more than a wild goose chase, and your stupid alien will be back at home, watching telly."

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Arthur hated it when it was too cold. He wasn't a northern nation! He was simply a grumpy old island who happened to have been a world superpower at one point. So here he was, bundled up so that he could barely move, while trudging around in the snow. However, since the twins had dragged him along... England never really learned how to say no to some of his beloved colonies.

Now they were going to go into some awful and cold cave, and Arthur was not happy about that. He didn't sign up for dangerous expeditions that would probably get the three of them killed. Stupid bloody Alfred and his stupid bloody alien. Well, at least he can tease the American...

"I'm sure there are scary ghosts in there," Arthur commented dryly. So perhaps he was hoping that the terrified Alfred would turn to him for hugs, and then Matthew feeling cold and left out would also join in.

"S-scary ghost?" America shivered from other things other than the cold. Why did they have to mention ghosts now? "I-I'm not scared at all! You guys can count on me, I'll make any s-super sca-ry g-ghost escape from me with terror in their terrifying non-existent...h-hollow eyes!" He laughed out loud but it definitely sounded fake.

As if to prove his point he daringly stomped into the dark cave and then had the balls to turn around and shot Canada and England a winning grin. America walked further in, signifying the rest of his team to follow him. Inside it was surprisingly warmer than outside. Sure, it was still chilly but definitely more acceptable than the icy cold out there.

"Do you have any idea why this cave is kinda glowy? It seems to come from the ice wall itself...a-and what is this fog? It's not anything supernatural...right?"

Matthew raised an eyebrow as he watched his brother try to act brave. Really, both he and Arthur knew that Alfred was terrified of ghosts, so there really was no point to keeping up this act. However, Alfred seemed determined to put up a brave front and he wasn't about to stop him. He just wanted to get this stupid expedition over with.

Following Alfred into the cave, he glanced back at Arthur to make sure the older nation was keeping up. He would hate for one of them to get lost in here. While they were much stronger than humans, it was always better to be on the safe side in any dangerous situation.

"The light is natural, Alfred. Relax. Haven't you seen any ice caves before?"

Curses, Arthur's plan had been foiled once more. His attempt at getting Alfred closer had only encouraged the ridiculous nation and his even more ridiculous plan. The older nation huffed slightly, rather vexed by America. At least Canadia was well behaved! It seemed that only one of the brothers had been blessed with the sense, though both had been blessed with good looks (and fine arses).

However much England hated this preposterous plan, he was not about to stand outside the ice cave alone. With another huff, the grumpy island nation stomped off after the North American brothers. Of course, he did so grumbling under his breath. "Stupid bloody gits. I didn't ask to go on this idiotic journey. I'd much rather be at home with a book and some nice tea," he mumbled. He was getting too old for this nonsense. Yet, even during his days as a pirate, he was never so stupid as to chase a rude alien into an ice cave! Oh the things he did to get laid... and well, express his affections for the younger nations. Not that he had any.

England shivered a bit, feeling like the enormous amount of clothing surrounding him wasn't quite enough. How he hated the cold. At least the glowing lights allowed them to see... It was a shame he didn't bring a book, so he could relax as the other two worked. Hm... He'd have to keep that in mind next time the twins dragged him off on another quest of stupidity.

America couldn't believe that creepy light was supposed to be natural, it looked like it was housing thousands of evil capitalists souls made in America! Walking further in there were still no signs of his alien friend Tony. "Tony! Are you there?" America could hear a faint sound coming from the end of a narrow path that was surrounded by more glowy ice crystals. He gulped, looked at England and Canada, then proceeded to follow that sound.

The narrow path suddenly opened up into one giant ice hall, making the three nations gape in amazement. "What the hell is this place?" Strange was the fact that it didn't look like hundred percent untouched nature - if those random traces of camp fire were anything to go by. Speaking of camp fire, America felt drained.

"Do you guys mind if we set our camp here?" he pointed at a spot where it was large enough for their tents. Normally, under normal circumstances, he would have been able to go on for days. But his ass was beginning to freeze and the cold made him hungry.

"Tony, hold on for a little while, but I really need some rest, man!"

America really hoped his alien was still alive. But sleep and sandwich seemed more alluring than Tony's life.

Despite a large portion of his nation being frozen tundra, Matthew was cold. It was freezing and they had been walking for quite some time now. The ice hall looked fairly safe and would be a good place to crash for awhile. Matthew shrugged his pack off his back and started digging for the fire starter kit.

"Alfred, you have the tent, so start setting it up. And don't complain. I know you can set it up yourself." Matthew laughed a little, knowing that Alfred would probably whine to Arthur until the older nation helped him. Man, Arthur could never say no to Alfred's puppy dog face.

"I'll take care of the fire and food. Arthur, you can... um... make sure Alfred doesn't hurt himself or something." Laughing even more, he started up a fire.

England had been cold many times during his long life, however, that did not mean he enjoyed it. He'd much rather be curled up with a good book and a warm fire in his house than stuck in a stupid ice cave trying to rescue a foul-mouth alien he despised. He could be at home, enjoying some romance novel, but instead he was stuck here in the cold with little chance of getting laid, despite the good looking company.

Well, at least he could amuse himself by teasing America while lovely... lovely.... Carandiah? well, whatever his name was got the fire and food. England was disappointed he wouldn't be cooking, but he'd rather not set everything on fire, he supposed (though his cooking was totally fine! and tasty!)

"I can't believe you dragged me all the way out here, you arse! Don't you have better things to do than run around in the cold?" Arthur grumbled at Alfred, remaining ever grumpy. Really, it would be more notable if he WASN'T grumpy.

America was busy staring at the instructions, some tent pegs in his hands, while everything was laid out in front of him. He was a complete pro in setting up tents. He noticed England approaching him and of course that old man would start complaining. America only grinned at him childishly.

"Dude, Iggy...you love me, so of course you'd help!" His strong hands gave England's shoulder a good pat.

Together they managed to make the three-person tent stand and actually look like a tent. So, they should be able to sleep there safely, except some Alaska monsters decided to attack them in their sleep.

And finally the food was ready. America pretty much leapt to the camp fire and shoved his face with food.

Matthew watched as Alfred and Arthur set up the tent and he laughed softly before turning his attention back to the food. He was making a thick and hot meat stew, to keep them warm and fill them all up. They would need to keep up their strength out here, because even as nations, the bitter cold could be dangerous.

When Alfred ran over to him, Matthew tried to warn him that the food was hot and that he should slow down, but once again, his brother didn't seem to care. Really, Alfred's mouth and stomach must be immune to heat or something.

When it came to iron stomachs, Matthew was probably the odd one out. Alfred was comparable to a human vacuum, and Arthur could eat practically anything. Though Arthur ate like a gentleman, he seemed to not care (or notice) that the food was incredibly hot. After all, England had used centuries to perfect his iron (or perhaps lead, or mithril, or orichalcum) stomach. Even in instances that did not allow him to be the cook, such as when he was a pirate privateer captain or leader of his soldiers, the food was not known for being delicious. Yet, Arthur had learned to make do with army rations and hard tack.

No matter the meal, it was generally filling and delicious enough for Arthur. Once he was done, he smiled at Matthew, "Thank you for the meal, Marie. This is certainly preferable to a certain someone's McDonald's, I must say." While he couldn't always remember the young man's name, Arthur knew to appreciate it when another nation did something nice for him. How could the blasted frog have helped raise a polite young man like Canada? Canadia's good behavior must have come from England's influence, he decided. It was also likely that Carandiah had gotten America's share of the politeness and good behavior.

"It's a shame this environment is not conducive to making a good cuppa, otherwise I would offer to make tea. Though I'm sure a certain big headed blabbermouth would refuse," Arthur said, remaining as prim and proper as he was before. Insulting America was simply second nature to him, provided this was the older America. How had that adorable little colony grown up into this brutish, rude, impulsive, sexy, loud-mouthed, kind hearted git of a nation?!

Perception was high arts. "Big-headed blabbermouth? WOAH WHERE?" America moved his head frantically on all sides, trying to catch on the sensational creature. But there was nothing, just ice and some more ice. "Boo, England, were you trolling me?"

After he'd almost choked on his own food for the third time he was finally satisfied and with a happy stomach. He leant back, his torso supported by his arms, and sighed in contentment - even smiling a little. "It's been long since we had our last bro time together. So, this trip has something positive, too, right? I mean, yeah we're freezing our asses into ice sculptures for China's next ice arts exhibition but at least we could enjoy our company."

Even though Canadia and England were complaining they still came to help him out. America was happy for that.

He could barely conceal his first yawn.

Matthew sighed softly at how Arthur continued to get his name wrong. Really, it wasn't that difficult of a name! It was rather common, too! By the time this stupid escapade was over, he would make sure that Arthur remembered who he was! Somehow...

After finishing up his food and putting away the cooking supplies, he glanced over at his brother, who was going on about this being bro time or something. For him, bro time meant spending time playing video games with Alfred or something, not trekking into the frozen Alaska wilderness to search for a rude alien.

"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, Al."

Arthur was quite tired, to say the least. While he was fond of them, the twins were energy vampires, that is, they sucked the energy right out of Arthur. Of course, it didn't help that one was completely oblivious to Arthur's advances, and the other had a name that was near impossible to remember. Dealing with both Canada and America while adventuring in a place as cold and harsh as Alaska left Arthur all but exhausted. Not to mention, Arthur did enjoy keeping an early bed time...

"Well, lads, I'm quite tuckered out, so if you don't mind me, I'll get settled in my sleeping bag and simply go to sleep. Don't do anything stupid while I'm resting or I will find it in me to murder you," Arthur warned with a yawn. His usual glare was no less intense, despite his fatigue.

England soon settled himself in his sleeping bag. This was after properly readying himself for bed, of course, even if he was adventuring in Alaska, he was no less of a proper gentleman. He simply couldn't wait for sleep to come, and hopefully not more frustrating dreams of certain good looking brothers. Don't be ridiculous. Arthur didn't fancy anyone.

America chuckled. "Such an old man, that Artie. But dude, Mat-thilda? We should go to bed too." He was unbelievably tired as well and the cold made him want to curl up in his hopefully warm sleeping bag. And then snuggle the people next to him, which is why he had to take the spot in the middle!

Normally, he would have suggested that they should take turns in keeping a watch, because of his paranoia...but he felt like it was kinda too much for all of them. "Are you sure, we could all fit in that tent?" America asked his brother, sounding quite nervous all of the sudden. "I mean...it's not like I've gained some weight or anything hahaha, never! But since we're all grown up men..." Okay maybe he had gained some.

To hide his embarrassment he simply jumped right through the tent's opening... and landed straight on England, who had taken the sleeping bag in the middle. America, the one who was a little bit heavier than a week ago, was on England, who definitely didn't know that this spot was HIS.

"England. This is MY sleeping bag! I sleep in the middle!" He said with a childish undertone.