Hello! Guys! It’s me! I’m not dead! Finally Chapter 3! As I write this, I’m driving with my family. Going on holiday. Sarcastic yippee* I won’t post this for a few days so I apologise, this was meant to be up several days ago.
Another disclaimer because I’m bored
I, Kate, do solemnly swear, upon Doctor and his TARDIS that I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or the Avengers. Once again though, the escort is mine.
America’s exclamation prompted a flurry of movement from the countries, as they struggled to arrange themselves in an orderly fashion. This resulted in a ten minute long struggle involving a lot of flailing limbs and sharp cries of pain.
Once a semblance of order was in place, America started berating his fellow countries.
“See? Guys, I told you they were coming.”
England narrowed his eyes at the group facing them, they seemed a suspicious lot, but not much of a threat. He knew better though, having been one of the few countries to read the papers America had handed out during the meeting, in the precious few minutes before utter chaos broke out. These people had saved the world from an alien invasion lead by a narcissistic demi-god.
“He really did,” the older nation backed up America.
Murmurs of ‘who are they?’ rippled across the countries, echoed in thought by the Avengers, who were standing frozen, still staring at the countries.
The Avengers watched the group of people in front of them. They watched them struggle to resume some kind of order. Tony scanned the crowd, noticing every single person there seemed to be of a different nationality.
Suddenly, the cowlick guy, as Tony had internally christened him, turned and addressed the huge gathering behind him.
“See? Guys, I told you they were coming.”
No one aside from a British man, with eyebrows that seemed to be separate organisms, showed any remembrance of the message that had obviously been sent. Tony wondered where this haphazard group of people had got their hands on highly classified SHIELD data. It had taken him days to crack through the firewalls, and complicated data mazes. Unless they had security clearance, but why would SHIELD allow this group access to files the avengers weren’t allowed to see.
An awkward silence settled over the room, the two groups watching each other, analysing and assessing the risk the others posed. Minutes passed, and still no conversation was initiated. The icy atmosphere was shattered by a loud bang and shouting, as the Nordics entered the room. None of the countries recalled them ever leaving, yet here they were.
“ICELAND, SAY I-“ Norway cut off his uncharacteristic burst of emotion when he spotted the Avengers. Both groups had relaxed at the interruption.
“So. Who are you guys?” Tony said. Now that the other group was relaxed he felt it was an acceptable moment to begin conversation. Not that he felt any particular social restraint, he just thought it best the suspicious, arguing, two-hundred-strong group of people do their best to explain themselves.
“We’re… um…” The cowlick guy turned and looked at the British eyebrow man. Eyebrows walked forward at the unspoken plea.
“We’re representatives for each country, selected by our government. We were wrapping up our annual meeting. Unfortunately the ruckus you walked in on was not how our meetings usually happen. It’s been a tough week for all of us and it seemed today everything culminating over the past few days boiled over and everyone snapped. We apologise profusely for the inconvenience.” Tony switched off, leaving Eyebrows’ British accent to explain everything to the other Avengers.
Steve watched the British man explain their presence in the SHIELD complex. He stared at the American with the strange cowlick. Steve knew that cowlick, from before he ‘turned capsicle’, as Tony has christened it. Alfred, Alfred Jones. That was his name.
“Alfred? Alfred Jones?” Steve saw panic briefly flash in the man’s blue eyes.
“Do I know you?” Alfred replied, something tainting his words ever so slightly, convincing Steve that the man knew something he wasn’t letting on.
“I don’t know, probably not, you just remind me of someone from long ago.”
“Really? From when? Because I share my name with my grandfather, and people say I look like him, maybe you knew my grandfather?” Steve didn't entirely believe that but let it slide, no one could live that long and still look the same. Not without genetic enhancement, like what happened with him, and Steve had read the files, no such enhancement had happened on any Alfred Jones.
The South Island of New Zealand, or South as he was sometimes called, much to the confusion of Romano, was intrigued. He had quietly left the room several minutes ago to visit the little boy’s room, and had returned not to the bombsite he had expected, but instead a quiet room with only one person speaking. Most inconveniently, the door was blocked.
“Oi, shuffle over, I need to come through.” He pushed aside a man in a black vest and turned to face the human blockade. Glaring at the motely crew he spun on his heels and stalked back to his twin, who promptly ruffled his hair.
“Who’re they, Blondie?” He muttered, using North’s hated nickname as revenge for the hair ruffle.
“I dunno,” North replied, “They burst in when everyone else was fighting. Iggy’s feeding them some crap about us being ‘representatives’ or something. See the guy who looks like a Dorito? He’s some war buddy of America’s, he nearly got us.”
Curiosity satisfied, and with England wrapping up his eloquent speech, South walked out.
“Well, I’m leaving, Blondie over there and I have got a meeting with the Prime Minister and the Maori King. If we want to be back in time we’ve got to leave now. Blondie!”
“Coming, fuzz face. I’m just grabbing the sheep,”
Following the New Zealands’ lead, the rest of the countries filed out, leaving the frazzled Avengers to ponder their experience.
“Mr. Fury will see you now,” The escort ducked her head around the door, “In the room two corridors back.”