{Author's Notes}
In this fic, I have put the character's names as they are in their native tongues, respectively. I.e., Norway is Norge; Denmark is Danmark; Sweden is Sverige. This is partially for respect of the countries, partially for clarification if a country is mentioned and not meant to be the Hetalia character.
This story is told from an all-knowing narrator, with Norge as the protagonist.
{Part I}
Norge was exhausted; it was nearing two in the morning now, and he'd been up since six that morning. Not only had he put up with some bullcrap from the EU, a surprise visit from tourists he had not prepared himself for, AND to top it off, Island yet again refusing to call him big brother (despite the implimentation of his 'scary face' move), he had been forced to put up with a too-affectionate Danmark – who honestly still didn't get the point that Norge did NOT like to be touched. And gods did Danmark like to touch.
Norge purposely kept away from Danmark these days. The oaf often got too drunk to say or do anything, and he was such a whiner too. He hated that he wouldn't take care of himself, that he got absolutely not a lick of peace in his life.
And yet, he always worried about his southern neighbor. He drank to excess and yet always seemed far too happy about it, always smiling. Always hiding something through the veil of the alcohol. Norge hated that the most of all. Why couldn't he have a normal relationship like Sverige had? Well… not exactly like Sverige had… but it was the closest to normal Norge had seen in a very long time, especially with the relationship Italy and Germany had (which he considered more than strange), and even more than the two of them, Russia's odd relationships.
He was just getting ready for bed when his phone rang – dammit. He'd forgotten to silence the stupid thing. He looked at the number, not recognizing it. He stared at it for a long few seconds, then hit the button to hang the phone up. He did NOT feel like handling this tonight.
He put the phone down, silencing it and putting it upside down, deciding to check it in the morning. He crawled into bed, unable to even remember his head hitting the pillow.
He woke in the morning to the sound of his alarm, slamming it with his hand to make it shut up. He sighed, after a few moments, reaching for his phone, the battery almost dead. He saw that he had a voicemail from the number that had called the night before and pushed the button to listen to it.
To his shock, someone had called from the hospital. They had Danmark in their care there, and called Norge as next of kin. They wouldn't say what the problem was over the voice message, but they gave a phone number to call back.
Norge felt a freezing chill go through him. Gods, what had happened?
{Any comments are welcome – this is my first fic, so please let me know how I did ^_^}