Hey guys! Sorry it took me so long to update. My muse still hasn't returned and I'm having trouble trying to think of what to write. Anyways, I finally got this chapter done. Enjoy it!

.:|Silver|:.

Francis sighed. England had finally tired out from playing 'horses' and was sleeping comfortably, nestled in Matthew's arms. Kyle and Alfred were sleeping too, sprawled across the living room floor and snoring away. The Frenchman's lips twitched slightly into a smile as he studied all the younger nations, wistfully wishing it would be like this forever. But unfortunately, he knew it wouldn't. Allistor appeared next to him, tapping France on the shoulder and successfully making him jump.

"Wha' are ye doin'?"

"Wishing it would stay like zis forever. But zere is ze unfortunate fact zat Gilbert is going to arrive in a couple of minutes to bring me ze boar 'ead so I can choose ze 'air. And to meet 'Asher' of course."

The Scotsman grunted and sat down on the empty couch, watching the young blond nations turn over in their sleeps or mumble things. England had somehow managed to wriggle out of Canada's grasp and was lying on the rug, one hand gripping the material of the rug tightly and the other gripping Kyle's shirt. The Australian man turned over, his arm automatically draping over the little boy and safely cradling his head, a brief smile flickering over his lips. Just then there was a sharp knock on the door and France leaped towards it, rushing to fling it open and embrace his friend.

"Ah, mon ami! C'est bien de te voir! Do you 'ave ze boar 'ead?"

"Kesesesese! Of course I do, Franny. Vhere's Asher?" asked the Prussian man, pushing his way inside and stopping short at the sight before him. "Oh, that is cute," he mumbled, grinning at the scene. Scotland glared at the albino man, crossing his arms and tapping his foot on the floor.

"The boar head?" he growled. The albino blinked and then produced the boar head from god knows where, tossing the thing at the surprised Frenchman. Francis carefully plucked out a couple of hairs from the head, wrinkling his nose before tossing it back at the German speaking man and putting the hair in a small Ziploc bag.

"Merci beaucoup, Gilbert. You've 'elped us a lot," he said thankfully, putting the hair away carefully. Prussia nodded before narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Vhy did you need the hair anyvays? Are you and England planning something?"

France floundered for an answer before glancing helplessly at the red-head in the room. Scotland snorted and glanced down at 'Asher' before back at the Prussian.

"We're tryna find the wee lad's relatives," he offered gruffly, crossing his arms and glaring at the red-eyed man until he relented and put the boar head away.

"Can't Arthur take care of him?"

"We are nations, are we not, mon ami? A 'uman child will not be easy to take care of when 'e can die any time before us."

"True. Vell, I have to go. I promised Roddy that I'd be home qvickly," he explained, waving and showing himself out. As soon as he was gone and out of earshot, France sighed, relaxing and flopping down onto the couch. Allistor followed his example, sitting down too and yawning, running a hand through his hair. There was a matching yawn and Canada groaned as he sat up, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes sleepily. He put his glasses back on and blinked up owlishly at his father before casting a glance around the floor to locate the others.

"Bonsoir, Papa. C'est quoi le temps?" [Good evening, papa. What's the time?]

"Hmm, c'est neuf heurs. Est-ce que tu as faim?" [Hmm, it's nine. Are you hungry?]

"English would be good about now," mumbled America as he ran a hand through his hair and grinned tiredly at the nations. France gave him a small smile and repeated the question in English. He received nods from both the younger nations. Just then there was a grumble and an Australian voice cut through.

"Why are we on the rug?" it asked slowly. Green eyes, not unlike Arthur's, opened and were peering down at the toddler huddled near himself. Kyle sat up too, carefully making sure Arthur didn't wake up, before standing up and stretching, allowing his joints to crack as he yawned before offering a hand down to America and Canada. The siblings glanced at each other before grinning, each grabbing one of Kyle's hands, and pulling themselves up. Kyle yelped and tumbled to the ground as both of the other blond's stood up with laughs. He chuckled too before grabbing America's foot and tugging him into a collapsed heap too. There was a small yawn and then England was up, one small fist rubbing across an eye wearily.

"What are you all doing?" he asked, a slight tinge of amusement and irritation in his tone. American and Kyle both looked at him, then back at each other before grinning widely and leaping for the smaller child.

"TICKLE ATTACK!" they announced joyfully. The toddler barely had time for a gasp before he was tackled and tickled mercilessly by the two older blond. He let out a shriek of laughter, giggling and gasping for breath, all the while trying to get away from his two brothers.

"No! Unhand me!" he squealed, trying for a kick to dislodge either of them. He managed to hit America across the head, but it didn't do any difference. But the American let out a mock groan and fell backwards, clutching his head.

"How did you do that? Are you stronger? No, but I am the hero! And I, Omega Awesome, shall beat you, little monster child!" he said dramatically, changing his voice, pausing to strike a heroic pose, and pulling one of France's old cloak's around himself like a cape and acting all heroic. It helped that his brother had turned a fan on and pointed it at him, making the cape billow out. England watched him with wide eyes before turning to Australia and whispering something to him. They both grinned at each other as Australia got up too, reaching his hands out like claws and letting out a real-sounding growl. Guess that time spent with animals taught him something.

"Well, Omega Awesome, I, the dastardly Bob Boron and my plucky sidekick, um…Demento, will beat you!" he said in an equally ridiculous voice. Canada snickered while Arthur pouted.

"Oh yeah? Well Mattie and I will make one team," said Alfred victoriously, pulling the Canadian towards himself and eyeing him before making him wear a cloak too. "And he's gonna be my plucky (whatever that means) sidekick! And his name is…um….uh…Arctic Man! Yeah!" The American teen punched the air victoriously and turned to his brother, grinning hopefully. Matthew rolled his eyes while Arthur suddenly smirked evilly.

"Well, Bob Boron and I can beat you both any time!" announced the child, grinning up at all the older nations. There was silence before America scoffed.

"I've got awesome laser beams!" he said loudly, making laser beam-y noises and chasing the little child around.

"Yeah? Well take a taste of the fire!" shouted 'Demento', spreading his arms in front of himself and concentrating. Alfred reacted accordingly, yelping and jumping backwards as if he had burned his foot before turning to scowl at Kyle and Matthew.

"Arctic Man! Quickly, cover the fire with your awesome icy powers!" he said agitatedly. Matthew rolled his eyes and sighed before jumping into the act, pointing a palm at the 'fire' and making a whoosh noise to indicate putting the fire out.

"Ha ha! Take that Demento!" said the Canadian triumphantly, making everyone eye him strangely. Well, except England. He was scowling. Then Australia pointed his hands forward, making guns out of them and pointing them at Canada.

"You can't get away with it Arctic Man! Suffer from my laser guns of death and destruction!" he roared, making bullet noises.

France and Scotland watched the going-ons with fond smiles and exasperated looks. The children ran around the whole living room, intently focused on their game of superheroes and super villains…which apparently the villains were winning. It seemed that England had somehow managed to defeat Canada and was cheering loudly as he watched Australia and America engage in a 'death duel', both taunting each toher in their ridiculous voices as they circled each other with imaginary weapons.

France chuckled quietly.

"Ah, if it were only like zis all ze time. It is so much fun to take care of Angleterre."

"Mmmh."

"Well, we still 'ave two more ingredients to go, right? I zink one was ze narwhal 'orn and ze ozzer was ze…"

"Vodak flower. I talked to Russia aboot it. 'e said he can get it fer us."

"And I talked to…un des mes amis about ze 'orn. It'll be 'ere in a couple of days."

The Scottish man nodded understandingly before looking back towards the younger blonds. 'Omega Awesome' seemed to be screeching in pain as 'acid' was dumped over his eyes, blinding him.

"Alright, mes enfants! Zat is enough! You all 'ave to go to bed so we can go to ze meeting tomorrow!" he said cheerily. There were groans and childish whines all around.

"Aww, why?"

"Can't we just stay awake for some more time?"

"Please can we stay awake?"

And, of course, "But Francis, pleeeaaase!"

The Frenchman was unrelenting and he led all the youngsters to the bedrooms, taking away his cloaks and leaving Allistor with the job of cleaning up the ruined living room. All of them acted like overgrown children, with the exception of Arthur, and whined as they slouched their way to their rooms. England was wearily holding onto Canada's jeans as he followed the Canadian man into his bedroom. If Matthew was surprised that he was the person of choice, he didn't show it, helping the green-eyed toddler onto his bed and mumbling a goodnight to his Papa before falling into his bed and cuddling with the younger blond. England mumbled a sleepy good night too.

France watched them both from the doorway before smiling fondly as he turned off the lights and went to check on the others. Once he made sure they all were okay, he went to the basement where Scotland was checking up on the potion, because apparently some ingredients had to be mixed and marinated. Why, he didn't really know.

The redhead was standing in the middle of the old wine casks, a book spread out over a barrel and staring at the pages with a frown.

"What 'appened?" asked Francis as he approached, tying his blonde hair. The Scotsman looked up and grunted before turning back to the book.

"Nothin'. I put tha stuff tae marinate. It'll be done in a day or two. Now all we 'ave left are tha other two which we need. After them, tha potion'll be easier," he explained. Francis nodded and sighed, leaning his head back as he slouched against the side of the cellar-turned-basement wall.

"I wish ze potion never wore off."

"Yes, well, I still wan' me brotha back. Well, I'm of tae bed. Comin'?"

The Frenchman made a dismissive noise and watched the Scotsman retreat before staring intently at the wall. Maybe asking Italy…? Italy could help him when he was in angel form. But…would England really want to stay as a child? So confusing. He gave up on the thoughts and made his way to his own room, yawning.

Just as he was about to fall asleep he felt someone clamber into his bed. Two someones. He cracked open an eyelid and saw both Canada and England trying their best to stay silent as they got in. he let a small smile flicker over his lips. Oh well. While England was still a child, he would do his most to make this situation memorable.

"Bonne nuit," two gentle voices chorused to him quietly as they settled down for the night.

Well? Sorry for the loooong update. My muse, who I hate very much right now, is not helping. She keeps making me have strange dreams of being murdered. Ah well, please review!

.:|Silver|:.