He was woken up in an unusual manner, but didn't seem to have much of a reaction. Not even his tired stare held the amount of surprise or annoyance one might have expected; the often so powerful leer now seemed cloudy and rid of impact.
"Get up, Sve", Denmark repeated, abruptly pulling the cover away from the lifeless form and throwing it to the floor. "Get up, get up, get up. We're going."
"Shut up", Sweden mumbled in reply. "Go 'way."
The standing man flicked the switch of the lamp on the nightstand, making the already weak stare go into hiding.
"Shit, ya've lost weight, haven't ya? Or is this just what a nation's gonna look like when he's lost his soul?"
Sweden considered opening his eyes, but his eyelids felt heavy. With a harsh laugh, Denmark continued. "On any other day, I mighta thought this was a good time to reclaim them lower regions."
"Do whatever y' want."
"No", he replied boldly. "No, I won't. All we're gonna do right now is go out for a freakin' drink, Sve. So get the hell outta bed."
He grabbed Sweden's arm and pulled, getting the man to sit, and eventually stand, slouching. No resistance.
"Why?"
"Hell if I know", Denmark answered, snatching a shirt from the open closet and throwing it at him. "Get dressed."
Too tired to object, Sweden did as he was told. Denmark moved over to the window, watching the light fade as the evening approached. The day when this once so mighty kingdom wouldn't even care to get up in the morning was something he'd hoped to see, but now that he saw it, he himself was too worn to enjoy it.
"Done", Sweden stated. Turning around, Denmark looked the other man over.
"Still look like shit, but it'll hafta do."
He adjusted his suit coat, suddenly meeting his eyes. "Y' don't look much better."
"...Let's go", Denmark muttered.
As the shorter of the two locked the front door after them, Sweden recognized the keys.
"Guess he didn't want those anymore."
Denmark looked at him, questioning.
"Oh", he then said, briefly contemplating the cold pieces of metal before returning them to his pocket. "I... took them from his jacket."
He didn't know if Sweden deserved the truth, but figured he wouldn't believe it anyway. They started walking.
Just outside of the bar, Denmark halted, staring down at the ground and taking a deep breath of cold air. A few stray snowflakes descended around them. Sweden spoke before he did.
"Ice 's gone independent."
"...Yeah."
And then they drank.
