Warnings: Mpreg, Birthing scene, multiple partners, shounen ai, and character death.

Disclaimer: Is the series centered around the Bad Touch Trio? Is it nothing but pointless gay sex? No? Then I obviously don't own it.

Welcome to the world

It was a quiet night. Francis and Antonio were sitting on the couch in Francis's house, chatting amiably, and each had a hand on Francis's swollen belly. They both spoke softly to the children inside. They would be born any day now as Francis was eight and a half months pregnant.

They were waiting for their other lover, Gilbert, to come back after checking on his little brother Ludwig. He had been gone for several hours and was actually supposed to have been back already. It was nearly midnight and yet the two nation's sitting in Francis's den, talking to their unborn children, were still awake because it just wasn't the same to sleep in that giant bed, just the two of them. No. It wasn't right, wasn't the same. They always fell asleep around the same time and it was useless to try and rest if the three of them weren't curled up together, snuggling and cuddling, more comfortable than they had been all day. Especially Francis. It was the only time he could relax due to the children he was bearing. The extra weight made his back hurt horribly, his feet always swollen. But when he was lying between his lovers, he could rest as Gilbert skillfully massaged his back, Antonio placing loving kisses on his face and belly before placing pillows underneath Francis's feet so that the swelling would go down.

Francis wanted to stay up longer, trying to wait for Gilbert to arrive home, but Antonio thought it detrimental to the babies' health for their mother to stay up too late.

"Francis, mi Amor, Gil will be back soon enough, you should go to bed and try to sleep, por favor."

"Non, Antoine. I want to wait pour Gilbert too." Francis pouted. He didn't have much time left and he wanted to spend it with his lovers. In the old days of exploration, a nation having a child wasn't a big deal as there was plenty of room, unclaimed territory, for the child to have. But exploration was over. All the land on Earth was claimed, and now having a child meant sacrifice. The parents would have to give up some of their own land.

Francis was having twins though. Sure, he could split up his land in thirds, ask Antonio to fork over some land to sustain their children, maybe ask Germany to help support his niece and nephew, but that would leave five countries weaker than they could be, then they should be. It would make them easier to invade.

So Francis decided to sacrifice himself completely for the sake of his children.

He would make sure childbirth killed him and Antonio and Gilbert were not to interfere. They were forbidden to save him. Their sole priority was to make sure the children were safe. They were to split Francis's land in half and make it two separate countries.

At eight and a half months pregnant, that didn't leave Francis much time to live. Especially since twins were often born a few weeks early.

Not much time at all.

Gilbert wouldn't have left at all if it weren't necessary. He'd do anything for his baby brother and his brother only asked for help when it truly was important.

"Por favor, Francis. You don't even have to sleep, just go lay down and rest your feet at least." Antonio gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek and rubbed his back.

"But…"

"Please Francis? S'il vous plait?" Antonio spoke in French as he knew it practically made Francis melt whenever he heard either of his lovers speak his native tongue. He loved the thick beautiful accents they had as they spoke. The Frenchman pouted and snuggled closer to the Spaniard, pressing his face as best he could into Antonio's chest.

"Antoine… You know what it does to me when you speak French!" Francis whined softly, not really complaining as Antonio's words had made his heart flutter happily. Spain chuckled.

"I know, mi Amor, why do you think I did it?" Antonio leaned down a bit more and gave Francis a tender kiss on the lips. "Now, please go lay down mi querida." That was another thing. Even though Toni always used the feminine form of the word, Francis didn't mind and in fact loved it when Antonio called him "Darling."

"Fine, but I'm not going to sleep." Francis said stubbornly and attempted to get up off the couch. Antonio helped him up and got him to his feet.

"Francis, mi querida, do you want me to join you, or do you want me to stay here and wait for Gil?" Antonio asked, rubbing Francis's back gently again.

"Ah, wait here for dear Gilbert. I think I can still manage to get to our room by myself… hopefully." Francis chuckled. Antonio gave him a quick hug before letting him go.

"Alright, he shouldn't be too much longer. Go rest. When Gilbert gets back, we'll join you mi Amor. Just walk slowly and go lay down. Te amo."

"Je t'aime." Francis began to walk away but got no more than ten steps away before he clutched his stomach and groaned in pain, one hand balancing him on the wall.

"Francis! Are you okay? What's wrong?" Antonio was by the Frenchman's side in a flash, steadying the blonde as his knees gave out. He had an arm wrapped around Francis's waist, another hooked under the blonde's own. He was still whispering and muttering to the Frenchman groaning and clutching his shirt, hoping the blonde wasn't going into labor. That this wasn't Francis's last night alive.

And Gilbert wasn't here.

Dammit.

"Antoine… I think… I think my water just broke…"

Shit.

Antonio had to keep himself from panicking, his mind working overtime to process the facts of the situation they were in.

Bed. He had to get Francis to the bed.

He gently picked the blonde up bridal style and nearly sprinted to the bedroom. Thank god it was on the ground floor. He reached the bedroom, the door left open from the last time they had exited that morning. He quickly set Francis on the bed gently.

"Antoine… Call Gilbert." Francis panted, face contorted in pain. Antonio nodded frantically, his left hand in the Frenchman's, his right digging in his pocket for his phone. After a moment of fumbling, he managed a decent grip on the damn thing and dialed the albino's number in a rush, forgetting about the wonderful existence of speed dial in his panic.

"Hallo? Toni?"

"GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE NOW!" Spain shouted, Francis in too much pain to care or stop his noisy Spanish lover. Gilbert made a (manly) squeaky noise, startled.

"What? Toni, what's wrong?"

"Francis just went into labor!" Francis gripped Antonio's hand tighter, a silent plea for him to calm down.

"Toni, I've done this before, several times. Please, calm down. You're making me nervous, mon amour." Francis said, his voice calm despite his pain, proving that he was indeed used to going through the pain of labor. America, Canada, Monaco, Seychelles, and many others throughout the world were his children after all, though they all had England as their father. He had been the victim of rape several times at the hands of the British man. And to add insult to injury, he stole away several of the children France had gone through so much pain to have. But this time, the fathers of his children were the two men he truly loved, men he knew would protect the children with their lives without denying Francis his claim as their mother, though he'll be long dead already.

Francis snapped back from his thoughts suddenly as he heard Gilbert's reply.

"SHEIβE! Okay, I'm ten minutes away, all right? I'll get there as fast as I can, I swear! Tell Francy I'm coming and to hold on!" Francis gave a small smile despite the pain in his abdomen.

"I can hear you Gil. Please hurry. Je t'aime."

"Ich liebe dich, both of you. I'll be there as soon as I can!" There was a click and the line went dead as Gilbert stepped on the gas, on his way home.

It was pitch black, a new moon, that December night. As Gilbert sped along the highway, his mind wandered back centuries.

When he first met Francis and Antonio, they were all still children just wandering around, smaller than most of the bushes growing around on the steppes, just toddling. He remembered thinking the blonde was a pretty girl and that the Spaniard could be a good, strong friend to have.

Gilbert Bielschmidt, Just a little thing, looked around the plains and trees and saw two children about his age talking to each other, sitting in a patch of flowers.

"Francy! I'm telling you, ¡No me gusta! I don't want to eat snails!" The brunette squeaked as a blonde girl held up a snail.

"Antoine, I didn't want you to eat it, I wanted you to hold it!" The blonde protested, holding the snail closer to the chocolate haired boy's face.

"¡¿Porque?" The blonde gasped.

"Did you just call me PORKY?" The girl looked close to tears, deeply offended.

"¿Qué? No, I―" That was about the time Gilbert stepped in. Who could ever get away with insulting a pretty young lady? He may not be the nicest guy, but he most certainly was raised a gentleman by Grandpa Germania! He had to intervene!

"Hey you! How dare you insult a pretty girl like her? What'd she ever do to you?" Unfortunately, Gilbert didn't know any Spanish, for if he did, he would have known that the Spanish boy had simply said why and has not insulted the "girl" at all. Even the blonde knew this. "She" just wanted to tease the poor chocolate haired boy.

The brunette immediately closed his mouth, eyes wide as the blonde blushed and giggled.

"Girl…? But he's not…" The Spaniard said, completely confused. He wasn't heard.

"You really think I'm pretty? Well, then again, who doesn't?" The blonde giggled again, "her" hand pressed against her mouth. The poor brunette was still wildly wondering what the hell this stranger meant by "girl". His mind was practically short circuiting, not able to process the situation at all. It took several more moments, but eventually he was able to clear his poor, tiny, overwhelmed brain, everything in order.

"Excuse me, but… um… well… Francis, didn't you hear what he called you? He said you're a girl, and you're not!" Spain was heard that time around. The blonde pouted and Gilbert's eyes widened.

"Darn it, Toni! You ruined all the fun! I didn't even get a kiss on the hand from him yet!" The blonde, Francis, pouted more and crossed his arms.

"Wait, what? You aren't a… You're not a girl?"

"Sorry sweetheart, I'm afraid not. Merci beaucoup for calling me pretty though!" He said, smiling once again. Gilbert blushed, utterly embarrassed.

"Um… You're welcome, I guess…" Francis giggled.

"So what's your name? I'm France, but my normal name is Francis Bonnefoy." Francis held out his hand to the albino boy in front of him. Gilbert hesitantly took the blonde's hand and shook it.

"Gilbert Bielschmidt. Prussia." The brunette, Toni, and Francis both gasped.

"Prussia? You're the Prussia? I was wondering when I'd get to meet you! You're really strong like us, aren't you?" Toni said, grinning. "I'm Antonio Fernández Carriedo. I represent Spain!" He too extended his hand to Gilbert, offering a handshake. Gilbert took it.

"Yeah, I guess I'm pretty strong! I'm too awesome not to be! Nice to meet you!" Gilbert spent the rest of the day talking and getting to know his new friends. They would have many fights and arguments over the years, but they always got over it. They always stayed the best of friends through thick and thin.

Gilbert couldn't help but smile as he remembered the times he'd spent around his friends, his lovers.

He pulled into the Frenchman's driveway and saw the light on in their shared room, shining through the thin curtains. He vaguely realized that this would be the last night he and Antonio would ever spend with Francis and that he was about to be a father. It was a bit difficult to believe, but not only did he feel horrible over the inevitable loss of one of his lovers, he felt an overwhelming joy over the prospect of being able to hold a little tiny baby, one he helped create and would be the one to raise. Sure, he had raised Ludwig, but that was his little brother, not his son. While he might as well have been, it wasn't quite the same.

In less than two minutes, Gilbert was out of his car and in the bedroom, seeing Francis in pain and Antonio worried.

"Okay Francis, how far apart are the contractions now?"

"Not far… Just a few minutes…" Francis ended his sentence with a scream of pain as another contraction hit him. Gilbert rushed over and grabbed Francis's free hand, he used his other to slick back the hair stuck to the Frenchman's face before caressing his cheek lovingly.

"Shh, liebe… You're doing great…" Gilbert whispered.

When the contraction ended, Antonio let go of the blonde's hand to check how far along he was.

"Hmm… probably about eight centimeters dilated… won't be long now…"

Antonio was right. It wasn't even a half an hour before Francis was pushing with all his might.

"You're doing great, Francis." The first child was crowning and Francis was screaming and nearly breaking Gilbert's hand with the force he was using to grip it. Gilbert didn't care. He could only think of how Francis's pain must be so much worse. Antonio was at the end of the bed, monitoring and acting as midwife as he had nearly every other time the blonde had been pregnant.

Yes, Antonio had always been the one he went to for help during his pregnancies. Antonio never turned him away always did everything he possibly could to help him. He had helped Francis birth all but the first of his children. He would have helped him then too, had Francis actually been aware of what was happening to him before it was too late to get help. He had only been a teenager then, and he could remember the fear he felt as he brought two new nations, America and Canada, into the world.

"One more good push for this one, mi Amor. You can do it, come on…" Antonio said.

Francis screamed as he pushed again and it was a few seconds before they all heard a high pitched wail and Antonio held up a crying new born.

"It's a girl!" He said, grinning happily. "Francis, I' sorry, but Gilbert needs to help me for a little while, is that okay?" Francis just nodded as he let go of the albino's hand and fisted his own in the sheets instead. Antonio looked to Gilbert.

"Gil, I need you to take her and give her a quick warm bath to clean her off and wrap her quickly in that blanket over there. Remember to put one of those hats on her head too." He said as he cut and tied the umbilical cord. Gilbert did as he was told while Antonio and Francis busied themselves with the second and final child. Five minutes later, a little baby boy was born, his sister already swaddled in the crib a few feet from the bed. Gilbert repeated the process.

A few minutes later, Gilbert gingerly gathered up the two bundles and brought them over to their mother who was weakly lying on the bed, unbelievably tied. He reached out, his arm trembling slightly as he beckoned for Gilbert to come closer. Antonio had already cleaned everything up and was now sitting by the bedside.

"I don't trust myself to hold them… please… help me…" Francis pleaded, no strength left. Antonio gave him a kiss on the cheek and took a blue bundle from Gilbert and he and Francis both supported the small baby. He had a tuft of sandy blonde hair, just slightly darker than his older half brother Alfred's, and lightly tanned skin. Antonio was obviously his father. Antonio kissed his son's nose gently as the tiny boy slept peacefully. Gilbert kneeled by the bed on the other side, holding a pink bundle. The little girl had almost a full head of snow white hair already and had skin nearly as pale. It was quite easy to distinguish her as Gilbert's daughter. She had her eyes open and was looking around carefully, her orbs the typical neutral blue but had a smudge of violet due to red tints behind them. Gilbert kissed her cheek.

"They're… beautiful…" Francis whispered. Antonio and Gilbert immediately agreed. Their children were absolutely gorgeous. For a while they just sat there, admiring their creations.

"What should we name them?" Antonio asked, voice barely above a whisper so as to avoid disturbing the peace and waking his sleeping son. The little half-albino, the only girl in the room, was still awake, but her eyes were drooping. It seemed as if she was fighting sleep for some reason.

"I was thinking Marie et Robert… Marie Bonnefoy-Bielschmidt et Robert Bonnefoy-Carriedo…" It was getting harder for Francis to speak.

"Maria y Roberto, huh? Those names fit them well… I like them. What do you think Gil?" Antonio said, tears forming in the pits of his eyes. Francis only had a few more minutes. He'd lost so much blood. But he had been instructed not to do anything about it, to let it happen. That's why they didn't go to the hospital. They would have tried to save him. In fact, if childbirth didn't kill him, Francis had planned to slit his own wrists… It was all so his babies could be strong and powerful. That would be impossible if he lived. His country had been in an uproar for months now, the North and the South bickering constantly, separate forces at work in both halves. German influences crept in to the north half, Spanish to the south. The country was splitting itself in half to form two new countries. North France and South France. Marie and Robert.

"I agree. Those names are… awesome. They fit perfectly." Gilbert was crying as well now.

"Shh… Mes amours… don't cry, s'il vous plait… Ah… mes petits bébés, welcome to the world…" With that, Francis closed his eyes, breathing out silently a final time, surrounded by his family.

Later that day, the republic of France ceased to exist. The new Republic of Southern France was formed with a new capital. Northern France however, was left in anarchy worse than the French Revolution.

Hey people. It's been a while. Well, those who read for Bleach and Death Note may know me, but this is my first story for Hetalia. I'm sorry if this story somehow offended you. This has no true political or historical basis behind it whatsoever.

Until next time, my lovelies.

{:~CoMa~DoSe~:}