The Crap Hetalia Book Strikes Back

Waiting...

This was a headcanon my sister ChocoholicBezza came up with. She's written a oneshot on it herself, but I really wanted to as well, so I am doing, with the entire thing dedicated to her, coz it is still her idea. I can't come up with decent headcanons to save my life!

It wasn't her fault - how could it be. It wasn't as if she'd ever done anything wrong. She'd simply been there one minute, gone the next, and when she'd woken up, she was back in the waiting room, sitting on the same hard, plastic chairs, staring at the same white washed walls, dreary paintings, later to be photographs, and receptionist, who changed every fifty years. So far, she'd seen over a hundred new faces for the woman behind the desk. Now, she was small with mousy hair in a bun and a huge smile plastered across her face. She didn't seem to understand why they were there, or what she was meant to do. She just kept smiling.

There wasn't all that many of them in the waiting room now. A handful, maybe five, if she could be bothered to count, but she'd given up counting everyone three hundred years ago. It was getting boring. She sighed and picked up a brush form the chair next to her, glancing at the person on the chair next to that.

It's inhabitant was a boy, small, blonde, dressed in a sailor suit. He was swinging his legs rhythmically and humming a tune to himself that didn't sound like anything to make note of. He hadn't been here long, around twenty, thirty years, when the idea that he could be created, or that he could exist was founded. Since then, he'd been waiting. He hadn't spoken much. The entire time he'd been there, he'd just hummed and swung his legs, oblivious to the fact that he could be taken away any second, or let out into the real world.

Because that was what the waiting room was for. Nations who hadn't been found yet. Nations who were waiting to be found. Sometimes, nations were let out, only to be dissolved, or something happen to them, and they were pulled back. Sometimes, they became so close to being let out, only to be abandoned at the last second. The nations themselves weren't told that. They were just taken in the opposite direction to the exit and left for a while by the receptionist in the incinerator. She'd seen it happen before - a boy with a black hat and cloak had been taken in the opposite direction to the exit after re-entering the waiting room.

It could happen to her at any time, but no one was quite sure what was going on. She wasn't sure what was going on. She'd been found - fine - developed - fine - made her mark on the world - fine - but something had happened, and she'd been pulled back. She'd disappeared. Been there one minute, gone the next. She found out later on from the black and white television crudely secured to the wall above the receptionist that it was the water. Some sort of volcano, some sort of tsunami wave, and she'd been gone. No one was very sure of anything anymore. So here she was, back here, in the waiting room, hoping some stupid human would dive deep enough; swim far enough and maybe, just maybe, pull up an ancient ruin or two that they could name after her.

"Hey miss?" she was dragged out of her thoughts by the boy next to her, swinging his legs. "How long have you been here for?"

"Too long" she replied, trying to remove all bitterness from her voice. "Way too long."

"Oh" the boy looked down at his legs. "I've been here twenty six years and seven months. Is that about how long you've been waiting? Or longer?"

She laughed. She had to. He was just so oblivious to the harshness of her situation. Even if some human did pull up her ruins, she'd never go out. She'd stay away from reality for ever. At least she'd be gotten rid of, and be able to stop waiting. "A little longer."

The boy nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. He continued swinging his legs for a moment before stopping and extending a hand. "I'm Sealand."

She smiled and shook his hand. "Atlantis."

"Nice to meet you miss" Sealand beamed and then glanced at her. "Why have you got funny marks on your neck?"

Sub-consciously, she reached up a hand to touch the marks. They were deep, like cuts, but no blood had ever been spilled out of them. She didn't like them. She'd tried covering them up once with a scarf the receptionist had left behind when she'd gone home for the night, but she'd struggle to breath, so had given up on the idea. "They help me breath" she said. "They're gills."

"Gills?" Sealand frowned. "But I thought only fish had gills."

"I'm secretly a fish" she smiled.

He burst out laughing. "You're not a fish. Fish have scales. You don't." She smiled again. "Can I brush your hair?"

"Of course." She handed him the brush and shifted over so he could brush it.

"You have very nice hair" he said. "It's very long. It goes down to..." he trailed off and poked her back about midway. "There I think."

"Thank you" she chuckled to herself a little. It had been so long since she'd spoken to anyone, she wasn't quite sure what to do, or what to say now. As it turned out, she didn't have to say anything.

The receptionist's eyes lit up and she stood up, walking around to a speaker system recently installed in the walls and pressed a button to switch it on. "Can Sealand come to the main desk please?"

Sealand dropped the brush and squealed, leaping up from the chair and smoothing out his shirt. "Am I going?"

Atlantis laughed. "Yes. You're going out. Good luck in the world."

He grinned and hugged her before charging over to the desk, speaking shortly with the receptionist and then running out of the door. She smiled as he went.

The outside world wasn't exactly how he'd imagined it. It was more grey and bleak, and at the present, the sky was crying, and people were hurrying about holding stiff material over their heads. There was a large black vehicle at the edge of the pavement, the door open, and a blonde man stood by the open door.

"Excuse me?" Sealand turned around. The person behind him had brown hair, slightly curly, and a cat sat at his feet, watching Sealand with dark eyes. "Did you see a woman in there?"

"Hm?" Sealand frowned. "Who?"

"A woman with long, dark hair?" the man sounded slightly frantic. "Blue dress, blue eyes, and cuts on either side of her neck. Did you see her?"

"Atlantis?" Sealand suggested. "Yeah. Why?"

The man visibly relaxed. "So she'd okay. She's not been incinerated yet?"

"No" Sealand shook his head. "Why would she be incinerated? She's fine."

The man opened his mouth to speak but was cut off.

"Leave the kid alone Greece." The man from the vehicle appeared at Sealand's side. "He's only just arrived, give him some space. He doesn't want philosophy yet."

Greece sighed and gave Sealand a weak smile before walking off in the opposite direction, the cat following.

"You're Sealand right?" the man said, crouching down so he was face to face with him. Sealand nodded. "I'm England. I'm going to take care of you, if that's alright."

Sealand nodded enthusiastically and started to walk with him towards the car. Just before he got in, he turned around. The blinds in the waiting room window were apart slightly in the middle, and as he watched, the pair of blue eyes there shined, and then disappeared back into the room.