Thunder clashed outside of England's window. He looked over as the wind rattled the shutters fiercely, but they held. He turned back to his book.

He was re-reading Romeo and Juliet, as it was the only book the Frog had that was in English. Even so, he would have probably chosen it anyway. It's soothing ten-meter and familiar words calmed his frazzled nerves.

Suddenly America ran through the doorway, tears staining his chubby cheeks. The boy quickly jumped onto the large bed and curled up against his surprised caretaker.

"Alfred, what is it? What's wrong?" the empire asked frantically. The colony just sobbed harder. "Did you wet the bed? Is the rain scaring you? Did you hit your head against the wall?"

Alfred shook his head and buried his face against Arthur's side.

"T-There was someone bangin' on the window..." the boy blubbered. "An' then I s-saw'm lookin' in at me!" he collapsed back into tears.

"Oh, America, it's alright..." England said consolingly, petting the colony's hair. "It's just the trees. The wind is making the branches hit the shutters. All you saw were shadows."

The boy didn't look up from the soft silk of his nightshirt.

"...Would you like me to read to you?"

Alfred nodded, snuggling underneath Arthur's arm.

"Alright," the nation said, opening the book. "I'll just go back to the beginning of the scene, yes? This is your Pa's favorite part, the romantic idiot...

"'But soft; what light through yonder window breaks?It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

That thou her maid art far more fair than she...'"

Before England could even finish Romeo's famous monologue, he noticed his America's steady breathing. Smiling softly, he gently closed the volume and set it on the bedside table. Arthur gently lifted the colony to retrieve the covers from under him and tucked the boy in. He was just going to turn out the light when a small voice stopped him.

"Hey, Iggy?" America said sleepily.

"Yes, Alfred?"

"I love you. I love you lots and lots and lots."

'I love you lots and lots and lots.' Tearing up at the pure, unadulterated innocence of his colony, England pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his forehead. How could anyone, anyone, ever believe this child was evil, much less hurt him?

"I love you, too, Alfred." he said softly once he could manage words. "More than you'll ever know."

England fell into a doze, hypnotized by America's soft snores. He was awoken by the sound of small feet pattering on the floorboards.

"D-Daddy?" Canada said nervously, standing in the doorway. He clutched a real, live, polar bear cub to his chest. That must be the "Kuma" the boy was talking about.

"Matthew? Are you afraid of the storm, too?" England asked softly.

"N-No, but Alfred- A-And Papa-" the colony hugged his polar bear tighter. It didn't seem to mind. "C-Can I just sleep with you for the night?"

"Of course you can," England said, a warm smile on his face.

The colony climbed onto the bed (Kuma following not far behind) and curled up in the arm that wasn't holding his twin. Matthew sighed contentedly, feeling warm and safe. Arthur pressed a kiss to his forehead, too.

With a boy in each arm, the empire fell asleep feeling like he was exactly where he belonged.

"I'm going to the market." England declared, rifling through the cupboards. "I can't stand to eat another bite of that poison you insist on feeding us."

"'Poison'? Oh, mon ami, you wound me!" France fake-gasped. "Although I must forgive you; that 'orrible garbage that you call food must 'ave worn down your tastebuds so zat you cannot process anything that isn't burnt to a coal!"

"I would rather eat coals than flies, Frog!"

"Didja say you were gonna go to the market?" Alfred asked, pulling on England's trouser leg. "Can I come with you? Pleeease?"

"Well..." he was still worried about his colony's safety; what if word had spread about the 'devil' and his 'demon child'? Then again, they had fled very far very fast... Even after four days, the news probably hadn't reached them yet. And, by god, when the boy made those puppy eyes he was almost too adorable to stand... "I suppose you can come along. But only if you promise to stay close to me!"

"Why don't we all go?" France suggested innocently (as if that Frog was ever innocent). He picked up Canada, helping him reach the jug of maple syrup that rested on the counter. "As a family, non?"

England scowled. Spending a day with France "as a family" was the last thing he wanted to do (at least that's what he wanted the Frog to think), but now both twins were giving him pleading looks. He would get to spend some time with the boys...

"Excellent."

"Alfred, please be careful! Don't touch that!" England yelled.

"Mon cheri, you worry too much." France clucked. "You make me think of an overprotective hen."

"I 'worry too much'? Francis, he was playing with knives!" Arthur pointed to the knife seller's stand.

"What is ze problem?" the Frenchman shrugged. "I let Mathieu prepare the vegetables for dinner and he 'ardly ever gets hurt."

"Yes, but that's Matthew we're talking about. Alfred was wielding it like a bloody sword!"

"Oui? Did you call me?" Matthew asked them.

"Oh, it's nothing of importance, dear." Arthur said. "But do try to keep your brother out of trouble-"

"Mattie, Artie, Franny, look! He's got BUNNIES!" Alfred cried, before speeding off.

Arthur sighed before running after him. He found him looking into a small pen of rabbits.

"This one's Polka-dot, and this one's Stripey- Stripey, stop bugging Loulou! And that one's Carrot, and this one's Dandelion..." Alfred pointed to each of the animals in turn. Arthur smiled as he watched him.

"Can I help you?" the owner of the shop asked them. He was wearing a hat that cast his face in an eerie shadow. England frowned. His voice sounded familiar...

Oh no. No, it couldn't be. How could he be here?

The owner eyed the colony with a malicious and hungry grin. Arthur felt his blood run cold. It was.
He was the priest who had tried to burn America.

"Alfred," Arthur said carefully, putting his arm protectively around the boy. "Why don't you go back and tell your brother about the rabbits?"

"But-"

"Alfred." the nation's voice took on a warning tone. "I'll give you a sweet when we get back to Papa's house, alright? Just go- Argh!"

Suddenly, the man was on top of him, brandishing a decorated knife. The nation held him back frantically with his arm as the man tried to stab him repeatedly. Looking up, he saw France and the twins.

"Run, RUN! I'll handle him; just take the boys and RUN!" England yelled over the screams of the bystanders. Nodding once, France scooped up a frightened colony in each arm and fled.

England turned his attention back to the battle. He kneed the man in the stomach and quickly flipped them over, gaining the upper hand. He grabbed the dagger and quickly stood up. The priest struggled, trying to stand, but England kicked him back to the ground.

"You don't have any idea who you're dealing with," Arthur scoffed, pinning down the other man with his foot.

"I know of thy ways, Satan! You cannot twist me with your lies!" the man spat.

"You call me the devil," England sneered. He leaned in, the pressure making the priest cry out in pain. "But I'm much worse than that."

The man's eyes widened in fear. Arthur released him from his hold, kicking dirt in the priest's face.

"Who are you, then, who claims to be worse than Lucifer himself?" the man wheezed.

"I have many names," Arthur said, circling the man like a bird of prey and playing with the knife in his hands. "Most people would tell you I'm simply Sir Arthur Kirkland, advisor to His Majesty." he smirked. "My crew would tell you that I'm Captain Kirkland- that is, if they didn't kill you first.

"The Spanish call me 'el Capitáno de la Muerte', 'The Captain of Death'." the nation gave a dark chuckle. "My friends would call me England, but I don't have friends. My allies call me Britain. My enemies call me the British Empire."

"But that's impossible!" the man sputtered, coughing up blood. "How-"

"You don't deserve to know, and it won't matter in a few minutes, in any case." England said calmly, cleaning his fingernails with the dagger. Suddenly he dropped down, his knees pounding into the man's abdomen. "Because do you know which name of mine I prefer the most?"

The false priest could only moan in response.

"Out of all of my names, I prefer 'Daddy'. Do you know why?"

The man started coughing violently, each breath a painful gasp.

"I prefer 'Daddy' because that is what my colonies call me. Have you realized your fatal mistake or do I have to explain it to you even more?"

The child-killer wheezed. England took this as a sign to continue.

"You tried to burn one of my colonies, one of my sons." the empire spat. "He's a bloody child, for Christ's sake! And then you have the nerve, the stupidity, to follow us, to attack us. Well, I do hope you've learned your lesson..."

Arthur stood up, brushing himself off. He walked out of the shade of a tree they ended up under. His fae were waiting for him, the fairies' wings glittering in the sun. The nation turned back to the murderer.

"You should have executed me for witchcraft." England looked at his mythical friends, switching his speech to the language of the People. "Finish him, for he hath harmed my youngling."

The Fae hissed with sinister glee, their eyes glowing red and their claws extending. They descended upon the dying man.

"Then again, I'd advise you not to mess with me in general." England threw the decorated dagger on the ground and calmly walked away from the violent scene. "It can lead to severe consequences."

Translations:

mon ami- my friend

mon cheri- my darling

England fluff and bad-assery all in one chapter! I'll do one more chapter, to wrap up, but no promises on the epilogue (sorry). Thanks for reading!

Oh, and I don't own Hetalia (and I haven't for the last two chapters. Also, unless I magically get it into my possession for the next few chapters, I won't own it then, either) or Romeo and Juliet (although it's public domain, so I guess disclaimers don't really matter...)