Of Tea and Blood (Prologue; Fanfiction)

[katrara.livejournal.com]

Title: Of Tea and Blood
Couple: USxUK
Rated: PG-13 (Will go up, promise)
Genre: Drama, Horror, Angst, Fantasy
Summary: England is attempting to summon a ghost, unaware that America is in his house. When America walks in during the spell England loses his concentration on the current task, and a spirit gets loose. This little spirit isn't to kind either, and if not sent back to were it came from, it could cause the beginning of WW3.

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Prologue

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Everybody had a limit to how much annoyance they could take. Parents, babysitters, teachers, friends, siblings, enemies, everyone. Even someone whose dedicated their entire life to remaining calm and patient has a limit. The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland has reached his.

America just didn't know when to stop talking, ever, and this time he'd hit a sensitive nerve. America and England fought often, and England knew that he'd been harsher then normal with the boy, but America had no right to go off into a rant about his cooking, clothes, age, hobbies, 'hallucinations', and calling him a horrible older brother, all in one rant. The final two parts to the rant, him seeing magical creatures, hallucinations America had said, and him being a bad older brother had left England rushing out of the meeting room, tears streaking down his face.

It had been nearly a week since then and America hadn't even attempted to talk to England, let alone apologize, so England decided it would only be fitting to get some revenge.

No matter how much the American had set him off he didn't want to truly hurt him, but he wanted him to realize that he had gone to far for once, and bringing his ego down to would be nice. It took some thought but soon England thought of the perfect way to do all of the above.

Although America would never admit it, he was terrified of ghosts, completely petrified of them really. Summoning a ghost under his control and having it scare him about during the next meeting would be a good form of revenge. America would freak out and act like a scared little child, resulting in a lowering of his ego, England would be able to get rid of the ghost, looking like the good guy and making America have to say something nice to him. No bodily harm would come to him, unless he ran into something trying to get away from the ghost. It seemed to be a perfect plan. The only real risky part was summoning the ghost and getting it under his control.

It had been a while since he'd done a real summoning like this too, so he'd need perfect concentration to do this right. When opening a passageway other spirits and creaters would be trying to get out, England would have to stay calm and concentrated to make sure nothing but a ghost he could control could get out.

He thought he had set up the perfect environment for just that, doors and windows locked, no one around to bother him and in his basement with thick walls. Never did he expect someone to kick his front door down and search the entire house for him until the only remaining place was the basement. The thick walls blocked out all the sound as well, leaving England unaware as he continued through his summoning, the passageway was open and he was speaking in Old English, calling for a ghost.

Unfortunately a lot of spirits were trying to get out and he had to keep sending them away, making the task take longer then he preferred, he couldn't stop now though, he just needed to remain concentrated.

That concentration was lost though as the one who had broken into his house threw the basement door open and screamed for England as the top of his lungs. The loud bang of his door and the yell resulted in England practically jumping out of his skin, concentration destroyed, and by the sound of the intruders voice England knew just who it was. America.

"Why you little-" Englands start to a long rant was cut off though as a spirit managed to sneak through the portal during Englands loss of concentration. The spirit was nothing more than a ball of bright ruby red light, about the size of a basketball, with a dark black center. Following instinct, England quickly mumbled something in his ancient language, setting a nice barrier up so nothing else could get out of the passage. He now had the problem of the spirit floating around his basement that needed to be caught.

By just a quick glance at the thing England knew that it was a evil spirit, and its aura reeked of danger. This small spirits dangerous aura was even enough to keep England a good distance away, and England could set off a very strong dangerous aura to keep evil magical beings away.

Even America seemed to sense the danger of the ball of light, seeing as his jaw was tight shut, eyes wide, body frozen in fear. The little spirit was obviously attracted to fear seeing as it was starting to hover towards the stairs were America was standing. England took quick notice of this, and knew immediately what the spirit wanted to do, his eyes widening in fear. The spirit wanted to use America as a host.

"America run!" England shouted up towards his comrade, thankfully, the message got through. America turned on his heel and made a dash for the door, not fast enough. The second he moved the little spirit bolted towards America, England chasing the spirit but the little ball of light was fast. Fast enough to get to America as he reached the landing of the stairs.

"No!" England took the remaining stairs three at a time to get up to America. It got him! It got him! Bloody hell it got him! was all England could think as he ran towards the taller nation, said nation was now swaying a bit, starting to fall backwards.

"Damn it!" was all England could shout as he dove down to catch America's upper half before it hit the floor and stairs.

England wasted no time in looking America over, he was unconscious and his face looked tired and exhausted, but other than that he appeared okay so far. England bit his lip not sure what to do. He knew the spirit was evil and dangerous but that's it, he couldn't exorcise it without knowing what it was, but if he waited to long who knew what the effects could be.

"God, what am I going to do with you America" England quietly whispered to himself, thinking of any options at all, finding none. With a defeated sigh he got up, gently laying America on the ground before going and closing the passageway up and putting out the candles. Going back up the stairs he gathered America up in his arms, carrying him to the guest room next to his own room.

He removed America's shoes and coat, leaving him in his T-shirt and jeans, before tucking him into the full sized bed.

England chose a to sit next to America on the bed, pulling his knees to his chest, his back against the headboard. He let out a sigh, brushing some hair out of America's face.

"I'm so sorry America, I never wanted this to happen and I promise to make it right" England quietly whispered, tears he'd been holding in now silently streaking his face.

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Alright, so I finally have the prologue on LJ. This story is on chapter 6 on FF.net and (as long as I did it right and finally posted this properly) the chapters will all get updated on here soon. (If your reading it on FF.net, don't give out spoileres please!)

I thank Childishsadism sooo much for telling me how to post things. I hope I followed your instructions right!

This is my first time posting, if I did something wrong or broke a rule, please let me know!