A/N I shouldn't be doing this. I should be focusing on my older stories...but I was really in the mood to write this little prologue!

Also! It's my first crossover, Yay!

Hopefully, it'll spur on a greater muse towards my other stories.

Enjoy! And feel free to tell me what you think.

PROLOGUE

"Urgh..."

Britain grabbed his stomach as it prepared to do a double flip up into his chest. Well, that's at least how it felt to England, as he stumbled his way back to the hotel, after a heavy night of drinking.

"Bloody...Wankers!" He hoarsely yelled into the night's sky.

He had, yet again, been left to make his own way back from after-meeting drinks and as one would expect in his state, he had already walked into a couple of lampposts and had had to take several moments of rest – sitting crouched upon the pavement.

And there was still several streets until he made it to his hotel room.

It's a shame that it really had not occurred to him to call a cab to pick him up from the bar.

It also did not help that the World Meeting had been hosted by America, and in the darkness of the early hours Britain's surroundings looked vastly different than they had the day before. Suffice to say, he had really very little idea as to where he was at that moment.

"Ugh...I'm gonna be sick," he muttered.

He hobbled over to a nearby street lamp, so as to lean upon it, as the world began to spin violently around him.

All Britain could think was that he would never have been in this situation if Prussia hadn't taken up that bet with Denmark and South Korea. God knew where Poland had put it all either.

"Unnatural!" He suddenly barked, scaring off a couple that had been not so discretely making out on the other side of the road.

As they walked off, sliding him some very wary glances, Britain groaned and set off down the road again, stumbling his way past alleyway after alleyway. Inching slowly closer to his intended haven, still not understanding why he had agreed to what America called 'The World Drinking Tournament'. It wasn't as if by participating he'd saved his pride.

At least he still had his clothes on.

'That makes a nice change' He thought bitterly.

A sudden blur of fur rushed passed him, followed by angry shouting coming from behind.

"Ugh..." Britain clutched at his temples and closed his eyes as the noises and movement assaulted him. "Make it all stop!"

There was a deafening bang.

As blackness engulfed him, Britain spared a moment to think that this wasn't quite what he meant.

"Shit, Dean-"

"Shut it, Sammy,"

"But-"

"You whining about it isn't gonna change anything,"

"Dean, you just shot that guy!"