Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Disney's Pocahontas, rights go to their creators. I just own the settlers I made up.

Chapter 3: Roanoke's settlers

"Oi!" England felt a jab to his chest, blinking his eyes open. He was staring into the brown eyes and haggard face of a man. The man leaned back, and England leaned up on his elbow. "Bloody hell, where am I–oof." England grunted as the redhead pushed him back down with a piece of a splintered plank. "I'll be asking the questions mate! Who the hell are you and how'd you get out here?" He looked to the sky above, it was midday considering how high the sun was in the sky.

He was in a clearing, surrounded by trees. A few Englishmen peered from behind the man who was holding a plank to his neck.

"I-I'm um Ar-uh Alfred Jones." Shite America existed in this time period right? Damn how was he going to explain their shared names?

The Englishman scratched his head, "Alright Alfred Jones tell us how you ended up out here? The last boat from England was in 1585 and John White left on it. We didn't see you when we started on the voyage." 1585! He went back too far! America didn't even exist yet,... that takes care of the name problem.

"Bernard, he could be part of the cargo ship John White was spossed to bring back." said another Englishman with brown hair and green eyes. He was tall and lean. Contrast made prominent by Bernard's short height and stock build. "Alexander, I didn't see no cargo ship pull up to the shores." Bernard said turning his attention away from England to the man named Alexander.

"I was a stowaway! I snuck onto your boat and have been hiding out here ever since we landed ashore. But it looks like you've found me." England said, slightly pissed off, trying to sell his lie.

The two men raise their eyebrows. "You've been living out here for three years mate? What about the Indians? Where's ya quarters?" Alexander asked him.

"I've been sleeping in the trees, gathering berries and drinking me own piss. I'm not afraid of those savages. I've wrestled bears for honey, and done just fine." England might have watched a bit too much of Bear Grylls with America and got a bit carried away.

The group of men were silent before a barking laugh erupted from behind Bernard and Alexander.

A big burly man with dark raven colored hair and blue eyes walked up to them then. "That is the funniest thing I've heard all day. A little twig like you surviving out here." He turns to Bernard, "C'mon he's harmless, stop interrogating him." Bernard lowers his plank grumbling unknown words at the man.

"I'm sorry about them. Nice to meet you Alfred, I'm Cuthbert. It's just us out here, and we're currently going through a shortage; so we're all a little on edge." Cuthbert says holding out his hand. England happily grasped it, knowing the struggle these men would have to go through.

"It's alright chap, no harm done. Am I welcome back to your village?" He asked.

Cuthbert clasped him on the back, "Of course mate, we don't have much though." It was alright, England couldn't starve, he'd just be eternally hungry until he got some food. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, slowly starving, but never feeling the sweet release of death.

The four men walked back into their camp area, a young man about 18 or so ran up to them. "Did you guys find anything?" He asked. Bernard shook his head. "Nothing out there but trees, no fruit in sight."

"Who's this?" The young man asked, pointing at England. He didn't look friendly either. He looked angry that he wasn't food.

"Daniel, this is Alfred. We found him living in the woods." England gave the lad a small friendly wave.

"How come you didn't ask him where his food was?" Daniel looked at him skeptically with his dark brown eyes. He had light blond hair, that bounced as he whipped his head around to face Bernard again. "Daniel, he didn't have any on him. We checked." Bernard said. They'd checked him? How long was he out?

"Well take him back. We don't have enough as it is!" Daniel yelled at him.

"Now lad, no need to get hostel." Cuthbert went over to him, placing both his hands on the boy's shoulders.

"Get the fuck off me!" Daniel shrugged out of his hold. He ran up to him. "Go back to where you came from! We can't feed anymore people! We're not a goddamn charity!" Daniel shoved him, and he stumbled into Alexander.

England regained his bearings. He was an irritable teenager once. He grabbed Daniel's ear, "Listen here you little brat. I'm here to help. I know the situation is bad but pushing me away isn't going to make it any better." Daniel smacked his hand away. "I'll go alert your wives you're back." He walked off.

"What is his problem?" He asked. "His mother starved to death last month. She'd been giving him her rations without his knowledge. She was all the family he had." Cuthbert told him solemnly.

"Well we better be showin ya, your quarters yeah?" Alexander said walking up to them and throwing his arm around him. England suddenly remembered how dirty they all were in this era, he tried not to wrinkle his nose in disgust. "Yes, take Alfred to Daniel's, the lad is living all by himself now." Cuthbert told Alexander. "I don't think that's a good idea." England said.

"Nonsense! The lad needs direction, you could mentor him!" Cuthbert continued. "What makes you think I like taking care of children?" England said, scoffing at the guise the other Englishman was trying to pull on him.

"Well we could just throw you back into the wild where you came from. Sacrifice you to the Indians as a peace offering." Bernard pipped in. England was starting not to like him.

"Fine, I'll try to turn the little brat around." "Great!" Cuthbert clasped him on the back a bit too forcefully and soon they were on their way to a little wooden cottage.

"You'll have a bit of quiet before Daniel comes back." Alexander said, handing him a key. "I've got to go to the misses, get yourself settled in." Alexander said before running off towards the more populous part of their village.

He wondered why Daniel and his mother lived on the outskirts. He was alone, so he took out his watch. He could just travel back to the present now. America wasn't even here so why did he need to stay?

He swiped his finger on the glass again to cut himself. But this time the stopwatch didn't glow. "What the hell is wrong with this thing?" He shook the watch, before sighing. He opened his spell book again,

Blood needed from someone in the current time period to travel to the future.

What kind of idiotic rule was that?

He wasn't going to go around attacking his own men so they could bleed into a watch; it wasn't that serious.

England sighed; he guessed he was stuck here until someone died.

A/N: Here are our main cast of men. If you can't remember their names, I chose one for each letter of the alphabet, Alexander Bernard Cuthbert Daniel. I don't know if that helps.

This will be a bit more morbid until the Croatoan's show up, desperate times call for desperate measures.