Bloody hell. I'm pregnant.

These were the thoughts that raced through Arthur Kirkland's, personification of the United Kingdom, mind as he held the positive pregnancy test in his hand. His hands shook as the test fell from his hand and landed on the floor with a loud crash, causing Arthur to jump, yelling out loud.

"How the hell am I supposed to tell America this?" he whispered, sliding down onto the floor. He then burst into uncontrollable tears as he held his knees close against his chest. His whole body shook and heaved as tears poured from his eyes, making a small puddle on the floor and getting his pants all wet. He knew his boyfriend wouldn't be home for another hour or so, so he had until then to get it together.

Then it hit him. Before he had started dating America, he dated France. He had sex a few days before his break-up with the French nation. And America had quickly gotten into his pants after they had hooked up. It's been three months since then. He froze, unable to comprehend the thoughts now racing through his mind at lightning speed.

Either France or America could be the father. How should he explain that to them? What if the father was France? America would break up with him immediately and he would get back together with France. If the baby was America's, then America would propose and they would get married. He wasn't ready for that. He wasn't ready to settle down and be married, let alone raise a child.

Or what if neither of them wanted the baby and broke up with him because he was pregnant? What would he do then? He couldn't raise a baby on his own! He burst into tears once again at the thought. He was truly scared to tell America and France that the baby might be theirs.