Chapter Text
England was sleeping peacefully in his bed when he was woken by a bright light. Sleepily, he opened his eyes halfway, only to realize that he was floating. That’s nice. Sleepy. So sleepy. England was on the verge of achieving the sleep he so desired when it finally registered that he was fucking floating in a beam of light. He didn’t even have time to panic before the beam cut off and he found himself inside...somewhere. His bed was sitting in the middle of the chamber. The dark wooden headboard from the 1800s stood in stark contrast to the shiny steel walls of the perfectly cylindrical room. With a noise worthy of any decent sci-fi movie, the wall divided.
Standing in the doorway was none other than Tony, America’s alien friend. England wasn’t quite sure whether to panic or not. He was leaning towards panic because he and the alien weren’t, to put it mildly, on the best of terms. Tony glared at him in silence until England opened his mouth to ask what was going on. Before the noise came out, Tony cut him off.
“Fucking limey.” He scowled, almost as if in greeting.
“Tony.” England nodded in acknowledgement. “Why the bloody hell am I in a spaceship?”
“So that I can take you far, far away. You’ll never see America again. You won’t be able to hurt him again, or waste any more of his time, you fucking limey bastard.” Unfortunately, that’s not what England could hear. Tony sounded more like he was saying something along the lines of “Damn shit, fucking shit...America...Fuck you, limey bastard.” The gist was pretty much the same, but England wouldn’t know that.
“I can’t exactly understand you, Tony.” England glared. Tony grumbled and pulled out his phone from...somewhere. The alien opened a translator app and typed for a moment before showing it to England.
“Ah, thanks. I know you’re trying to look after him, but don’t you think abducting me is a bit extreme? I’d rather not get probed, killed, or end up mysteriously pregnant.” Tony scoffed.
“I’m not going to kill you.”
“Really?”
“Nope. America would never let me come home if he somehow found out I killed you.” England read his explanation and looked at the alien quizzically.
“Then what are you going to do?”
“I told you. I’m going to take you far away. I also intend on making the crew eat your cooking. I can’t be held responsible for their reactions if you decide to cook.” Without typing another word, Tony left the room, whistling as he went. England groaned and pulled his blankets over his head. He was going to have to come up with some sort of plan to call America. He was the only person who might be able to talk some sense into the crazed alien.