Thank you for all the follows and reviews! I finally took the test that was taking up all my time studying for. . . . maybe now I can finally update regularly.

I do not own Supernatural or Hetalia.

Dean looked at Alfred. "What?"

Arthur glared. "I told you-"

"They're MY hunters, Arthur."

Dean cut in. "So now there's supernatural beings that control entire countries. Wonderful. You know what, Sam, I think I could handle some were-witches."

"We don't control the countries, we ARE the countries. I'm America. That's France, England and Canada."

"Explains the accents." Dean rubbed his forehead. "So, Canada, you got an admantium skeleton or something?"

"He's Canada, not wolverine, Dean."

"Right, so he's made of maple syrup and healthcare. And you're made of -"

"Freedom!" America grinned from his spot next to the table.

"And-"

"Angleterre is composed of bitterness and bad taste." France flipped his hair and it caught England full in the face. England spluttered as he tried to get the hair out of his eyes. "Overgrown frog-"

"Wait, how does this work? You are the countries? What about elections? Wars? Do you always heal this quickly?" Sam wondered.

"I usually get a headache around election day." America grimaced.

"Wars are always unpleasant, but I will fight for my people just as they fight for me. " France seemed unnaturally serious.

"What about the names? Alfred? Arthur?"

"Well, we can't call each other America or Canada in public, right? So he's Matthew Williams, Francis Bonnefoy, Arthur Kirkland, and I'm Alfred Jones." Alfred nodded to Canada- which, Sam realized guiltily, he'd forgotten about in the short time he wasn't looking at him- and then France, England, and himself.

Dean pointed at Alfred. "So. . . . you've got super-strength."

"It's awesome, right? Like I'm a superhero! Probably because I am the world's only superpower." America tried to flex and nearly fell over because he wasn't using the table for support.

"England's a witch-"

"Wizard."

"Well, that's some powerful magic, anyway."

"Britain has the highest concentration of magical power." He crossed his arms proudly.

"And- oh yeah- Canada. It's like you're invisible unless I look directly at you."

"Yes. . . . it's always like that." Matthew sighed. "I mean, when was the last time you saw Canada in the news?"

Dean nodded and looked like he regretted it. "So, Francis, any superpowers?"

"Well, unlike Angleterre, I can actually cook."

"It's not that bad!"

Francis turned. "Arthur, last time we let you near a stove, you burned down a house trying to boil water."

"Oh yeah! I never got to ask- how'd you manage that?" Alfred laughed.

"Look, there was a problem with the wiring-"

"It was a gas stove."

Matthew started chuckling quietly and Francis and Arthur continued to argue. Sam realized that whatever spell he was under, it was almost gone. He stood up- slowly. "They always like this?"

"Yeah, usually." Sam jumped. Matthew- Canada- had shown up beside him.

Dean stood up and leaned against the table. "So, Alfred. . . . why can't I shoot you?"

Alfred was still smiling. Dean was pretty sure that was his default expression. "You're not a traitor, are you?"

"What? No!"

"Well, that's why! Citizens usually find it hard to harm their country. I'm also really cool though, so that helps."

Matthew rolled his eyes.

"So what do you do all day? Just. . . . . country things? Does the president know?" Dean stumbled slightly and tried to pass it off as shifting his weight.

"Well, I usually work in the government as an aide, but sometimes I'm in the military. And the president knows! So does the head pf CIA and NSA and stuff. But it's so fun to introduce myself to each president! England does this boring thing where him and the prime minister and the Queen all sit down and have "a spot of tea" on the first day, but on the President's first day, they brief him and tell him "this is the most important national secret", that it's right next to the nuclear launch codes and then they bring him to this secret bunker in a concrete room, and they're so serious the entire time, and then I come in, awesome as ever and I usually offer them McDonalds, and the look on their face is hilarious. I always wish I could take a picture, but they don't allow cameras in the bunker. . . . . . . . . . .What?"

Sam was staring at him. "Last I saw you, you only had a right shoulder. Now it's nearly to your elbow."

"Yeah, it regrows. Should be back to normal in three or four days. Fingers are tricky." Alfred shrugged. "The FBI file says you guys have a '67 Impala-"

"OW!" Arthur broke off his argument with Francis, clutching his chest.

Francis immediately responded. "Heart attack? It's about time. Probably those horrible scones-"

"No, something's coming." Arthur let go of his shirt. "After those two rudely barged in here, I put up some wards. Something just broke through."

"Well, what is it?" Dean grabbed his gun from the table.

"I don't know- it's vicious, and evil, and ancient- it feels slimy, it's-"

"Leviathan." Sam was peering out the front window. "Too bad for you, Dean. Hot pink scrubs is standing out there." Sam was smirking a little. Dean sighed in disappointment and checked the bullets in the magazine.

"How many?"

"Nine."

"Shit." Dean looked down, shoulders hunched, trying to ignore the dizziness that was growing along with the wet patch he could feel soaking the back of his shirt.

"Ok, we can-"

"We can't fight that many Leviathans, Dean." Sam crossed to the back window. "Not when you can barely stand up- Fuck, there's at least three more in the back."

Arthur cleared his throat. "I think I-"

"I'm fine, Sam!"

"NO, you're not. I think if we can break through and make it to a car-"

"Francis, Alfred, Matthew, hold on. Sam and Dean-" The boys turned to see Arthur reaching towards them, with the other three nations taking hold of his right arm. He grabbed them both by their jackets, and as the room disappeared in a swirl of green, Sam could only hope this ended up better than the last spell Arthur had used on him.