[Hetalia] "Rescue" USxUK
Title: "Rescue"
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters: America, England
Prompt: If you were... challenge: If I were in jail I know you'd spring me @ 5_prompts, 23. Reunion @ 25fluffyfics
Words: 923
Rating: PG
Summary: Inspired by the Escaping Italy strips. England ponders which of his allies will rescue him from an Italian prison.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
England was going to kick Howard’s butt when he got out of here. He had gotten him to look the part, but when it came down to it he just couldn’t pull off an Italian demeanor. Germany had captured him once again. England glared through the bars of his prison cell and the two men on the other side squeaked in fear. They were admonished immediately by a loud German voice demanding the two quiet down and toughen up.
He slouched backwards on his bunk, he would form a new escape plan in the morning. People as pathetic as these three could not hold the mighty British Empire in a cell. He shifted slightly on the prison bunk, it was certainly uncomfortable and not appropriate for a gentleman such as himself. He stared up at the ceiling, thought drifting to whether his allies were coming to rescue him or not. Although, when he though about, he really wasn’t surprised no one had come for him.
Russia probably could not care less. In fact, he was probably secretly loving the fact that England had been captured by the Italians. He could imagine the large man’s childish grinning face and gleeful purple eyes. The image made him want to punch the man’s teeth out, although it would probably bode ill for him when he did. He really didn’t need to start another war with Russia.
China, was another one that would probably never come. There was a lot of water under the bridge with the Asian. There had been that whole business regarding the Opium Wars and not to mention trade issues. China was also probably eating it up now that he was gone. Probably trying to figure out which other European country he would target for trade exports.
France... England laughed at the thought. The frog and him had been fighting for centuries, mutual interest was all that drew them together now. France was probably eyeing some of his overseas colonies as he lay here trapped in this obnoxious country. Even if he did have the heart to save him, the rescue would come with strings attached. England did not want to owe his neighbor and rival any favors.
Gah! Why were they allies? There was certainly no love lost between any of them. Each had been at war with each other at some point. They had attacked and fought over land for rights or goods. Only a common enemy drew them together now. They didn’t want to lose who they were to the rising powers of younger countries.
Speaking of younger countries... America, who had been occupying England’s thoughts too often. He hadn’t truly thought about America this much since the brat had decided to declare independence. Now, not once but twice, he had swooped into one of their wars with the intention to save Europe. And as much as any of them were begrudged to admit it, he had come with no intention other than to be the hero and be noticed by them. He rarely asked for concessions. England sighed and fiddled with the frayed edge of the blanket he had been provided with.
America... had he ever truly understood him? He had always been surprised at how fast the boy could grow. Every time he had gone across the Atlantic to visit the child he had grown, his people working hard and building up their country. Growth that he had tried to slow... England brushed those thoughts away, why would America come for him, after all that had happened between them?
BOOM.
The prison cell wall burst open spraying debris in every direction. England curled up instinctively trying to protect himself from the flying shrapnel. When the dust had cleared he could see a rope hanging through the opening. He could hear the prison guards yelling and the whirring of an airplane motor.
“Grab the rope England!” Taking the rope in hand he looked up through the gaping hole in the wall. America had landed his plane on the roof of the prison. He was shouting at him from the cockpit, the propeller still rotating in preparation for a fast take off. England wrapped the rope around himself expecting America to haul him up. Instead, as soon as America saw that England had secured himself, the bloody idiot began to take off!
“America! What...!” His protest was cut off as he was abruptly whisked off his feet into the sky, suspended below the plane, his curses inaudible in the rush of wind. It seemed hours before the plane slowed enough to drop him with some safety to the ground. America landed the plane in the open field he had chosen for landing and hopped out of the plane.
“How’s that for heroic?” the boy said grinning brightly at him. England walked right up to him and cuffed him on the back of the head. America rubbed at the spot looking slightly mollified.
“I don’t know what you were thinking with that rescue, but thank you.”
“Did you ever doubt the hero would save you?” said America looking at him quizzically as if the very idea of not rescuing an ally was preposterous. To be truthful, England had wondered, but instead he shook his head earning a grin from the younger nation. America smiled at him. England gave him a small smile back.
Maybe, just maybe, past differences could be forgotten and they could have something between them again. After all, America had come for him when no one else would.
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters: America, England
Prompt: If you were... challenge: If I were in jail I know you'd spring me @ 5_prompts, 23. Reunion @ 25fluffyfics
Words: 923
Rating: PG
Summary: Inspired by the Escaping Italy strips. England ponders which of his allies will rescue him from an Italian prison.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
England was going to kick Howard’s butt when he got out of here. He had gotten him to look the part, but when it came down to it he just couldn’t pull off an Italian demeanor. Germany had captured him once again. England glared through the bars of his prison cell and the two men on the other side squeaked in fear. They were admonished immediately by a loud German voice demanding the two quiet down and toughen up.
He slouched backwards on his bunk, he would form a new escape plan in the morning. People as pathetic as these three could not hold the mighty British Empire in a cell. He shifted slightly on the prison bunk, it was certainly uncomfortable and not appropriate for a gentleman such as himself. He stared up at the ceiling, thought drifting to whether his allies were coming to rescue him or not. Although, when he though about, he really wasn’t surprised no one had come for him.
Russia probably could not care less. In fact, he was probably secretly loving the fact that England had been captured by the Italians. He could imagine the large man’s childish grinning face and gleeful purple eyes. The image made him want to punch the man’s teeth out, although it would probably bode ill for him when he did. He really didn’t need to start another war with Russia.
China, was another one that would probably never come. There was a lot of water under the bridge with the Asian. There had been that whole business regarding the Opium Wars and not to mention trade issues. China was also probably eating it up now that he was gone. Probably trying to figure out which other European country he would target for trade exports.
France... England laughed at the thought. The frog and him had been fighting for centuries, mutual interest was all that drew them together now. France was probably eyeing some of his overseas colonies as he lay here trapped in this obnoxious country. Even if he did have the heart to save him, the rescue would come with strings attached. England did not want to owe his neighbor and rival any favors.
Gah! Why were they allies? There was certainly no love lost between any of them. Each had been at war with each other at some point. They had attacked and fought over land for rights or goods. Only a common enemy drew them together now. They didn’t want to lose who they were to the rising powers of younger countries.
Speaking of younger countries... America, who had been occupying England’s thoughts too often. He hadn’t truly thought about America this much since the brat had decided to declare independence. Now, not once but twice, he had swooped into one of their wars with the intention to save Europe. And as much as any of them were begrudged to admit it, he had come with no intention other than to be the hero and be noticed by them. He rarely asked for concessions. England sighed and fiddled with the frayed edge of the blanket he had been provided with.
America... had he ever truly understood him? He had always been surprised at how fast the boy could grow. Every time he had gone across the Atlantic to visit the child he had grown, his people working hard and building up their country. Growth that he had tried to slow... England brushed those thoughts away, why would America come for him, after all that had happened between them?
BOOM.
The prison cell wall burst open spraying debris in every direction. England curled up instinctively trying to protect himself from the flying shrapnel. When the dust had cleared he could see a rope hanging through the opening. He could hear the prison guards yelling and the whirring of an airplane motor.
“Grab the rope England!” Taking the rope in hand he looked up through the gaping hole in the wall. America had landed his plane on the roof of the prison. He was shouting at him from the cockpit, the propeller still rotating in preparation for a fast take off. England wrapped the rope around himself expecting America to haul him up. Instead, as soon as America saw that England had secured himself, the bloody idiot began to take off!
“America! What...!” His protest was cut off as he was abruptly whisked off his feet into the sky, suspended below the plane, his curses inaudible in the rush of wind. It seemed hours before the plane slowed enough to drop him with some safety to the ground. America landed the plane in the open field he had chosen for landing and hopped out of the plane.
“How’s that for heroic?” the boy said grinning brightly at him. England walked right up to him and cuffed him on the back of the head. America rubbed at the spot looking slightly mollified.
“I don’t know what you were thinking with that rescue, but thank you.”
“Did you ever doubt the hero would save you?” said America looking at him quizzically as if the very idea of not rescuing an ally was preposterous. To be truthful, England had wondered, but instead he shook his head earning a grin from the younger nation. America smiled at him. England gave him a small smile back.
Maybe, just maybe, past differences could be forgotten and they could have something between them again. After all, America had come for him when no one else would.