Writing to vent, so while I hope you enjoy, that is not necessarily my main goal.

AU.

Dan = Denmark

Erik = Norway

Sindri = Iceland

I don't own Hetalia!end/AN/

That boy with the pale blue eyes?

He hung out every afternoon in the middle of the park, occupying the same swing or waiting until it was unoccupied to take it.

Why?

Dan didn't know. All he did was sit there, staring off into space. If he got closer, he could see that it looked like his lips were moving, murmuring quietly.

Of course, he could only get so close without him noticing, he was sure, so he didn't know his name, or where he lived, his favorite sport, or any of the important things. All he knew was that he came alone, and he stayed alone. Only a few tots had disturbed him so far, not knowing better, and he'd stared after them until their mommies came and took them away.

The boy was younger than he was, considerably so. He wore a blue sailor outfit, which made Dan think maybe he was a sailor's kid, and the guy's wife thought it was cute to have him mirror his father.

Of course, Dan was a responsible neighbor, and so eventually he figured he should make sure the kid wasn't being neglected, or that his parents knew where he was. It was a few short steps from the spot where he did his homework, grinding down old mulch that desperately needed to be replaced, and to the creaky old swing set.

"Hey, I'm Dan. Are you alright, kid?" His smile wasn't met with another, as the boy glanced up at him. His hands tightened on the chains, but his face remained calm. It made Dan a little worried, so he spoke again. "Uh, I see you here like every day… and you don't do anything. Is everything alright?"

"I'm waiting for my brother." Dan was glad for the answer. It looked like the kid wasn't mute or retarded or anything. And he would have left, if it weren't for the fact that never, not once, had he seen someone come for the kid.

"Uh huh… Is he coming today?" The kid continued to stare straight ahead, but he murmured, "He promised we would meet here."

Dan wondered if maybe the kid was mentally ill. What if he didn't have a brother, but believed he did? Or, worse yet, the brother was gone, but the kid was so traumatised, he refused to believe it. He did seem young enough to resort to that kind of behavior, but it just seemed rather sad that it could happen to one of his age.

"Hey, what's your name?" He half didn't expect an answer, to be honest, so he was surprised when he was met with one.

"I'm Erik." His mouth was downturned, but not outrageously so. Maybe he wasn't even conscious of it. Dan smiled at him, trying to encourage more information from him.

"Ah. So, your brother, does he normally make it? Do your parents know where you are?" Dan shrugged off the feeling that he was coming across as a goody-goody boy scout. Erik, however, didn't seem to be thinking that, as he narrowed his eyes at him.

Dan nearly panicked, thinking of how he might look like some sort of young pedophile stalker, and he hoped that Erik didn't go screaming something about stranger danger across the park. But it seemed his panic was for nothing, as the boy mumbled, "They know. And Mari always comes."

"'Mari?'" It sounded like Marie, which was hardly a name for a boy. Dan was starting to think maybe this kid was pulling the wool over his eyes, and he took a step closer.

"Yeah. Mari," Erik replied before he got a chance to demand what was going on, and then, miracle of miracles, he continued. "He hates that name, but I gave it to him, and I'm his big brother, so it's got to stick."

"Uh huh. So, when is he going to be here? It's going to be late soon, you know." Dan didn't entirely trust that this boy knew what was going on, or that he was telling the truth. He didn't know why, but he felt like there was something unusual in Erik's life, like maybe something bad going on at home or something.

But of course, Erik was completely placid about all of this. "He always comes."

"Well, is he supposed to take you home? Because, you know, it's not really safe for you to be out here by yourself. You're only, what, 10…?" Dan's estimation was met with a stare, and he wondered if maybe Erik was older than he looked and he was offended by him assuming he was any younger than his real age. However, Erik finally spoke, saying, "It's okay; Mari will be here soon. You can leave."

"Yeah, but what if something happens before that? The sun is starting to sink, and the little kids have gone home for dinner; and, it's kinda getting chilly. How about I walk you home, kay?" His words had little hope of getting through, but Dan hoped nonetheless, stubbornness being one of his endearing traits. Besides, there was no way he was leaving this kid here alone in the cold; the soft spot in his heart wouldn't allow it.

"No. Go away." Any kindness Erik had had towards Dan seemed to have outright dissipated, and Dan groaned. He couldn't force the kid to leave; he didn't know where he lived. If he took him home, it could be considered kidnapping. He didn't know what he was supposed to do in these circumstances…

"Come on, aren't you cold? You're not even wearing a jacket; look, here's mine," and Dan draped his jacket about Erik's shoulders, "so get off that swing and get walking. Or else I will pull you off and carry like a sack of crap."

Maybe Erik was frowning; it wasn't very evident, if he was. "I'm not going with you," he said, indifferent to the jacket that Dan was missing terribly. Dan frowned deeply, not as reticent as this kid obviously was.

"Seriously, don't make me do it; I'll find your house if I have to knock on every door in this neighborhood!" He didn't particularly care that now he was threatening Erik; it was for his own safety, and Dan felt that the ends more than justified the means.

He was promptly spit on, an act that suddenly raised his anger from righteous anger to being simply ticked off. However, as he was about to erupt in anger at the brat, a voice interrupted him.

"What are you doing?" As he turned, he saw a boy with practically white hair, it seemed, and only a couple years younger than him, looking at him with an indecipherable, almost quizzical look. Dan relaxed a bit, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Oh, you must Mari. Sorry; I wasn't sure if you were coming or not." Dan's reply only seemed to deepen the boy's quizzical look, however, and he just stared at him for a moment, seemingly speechless. When he did say something, it was, "Did you just call me Mari?"

"Um, yeah; that is your name, isn't it?" Suddenly, Dan felt sheepish, reaching the conclusion that maybe this wasn't 'Mari'; maybe he'd made a mistake, and he didn't even know Erik, though they did look distinctly related.

"It's Sindri." The statement made Dan's ears flame red; he couldn't believe he had just assumed because someone showed up it was Erik's brother. To call someone by a girl's name was just unforgiveable; however, before he could apologize, Sindri continued, "But… no one's called me Mari since… since my brother did."

Dan was confused. "You mean Erik? He's right-"

He turned to point him out, but the swing was empty, his jacket sloppily left hanging off the seat. Dan hand immediately went up to his cheek, feeling where the spit had been; it was dry, not sticky, without the slightest indication of ever having been wet. "Where'd he go?"

Sindri took a step forward, and it was then Dan noticed the crinkling plastic-wrapped flowers. He was smiling, very slightly, though his eyes looked sad. "Erik was only eleven when he tried to swing to the top of the swingset, right in that swing. He fell off, and he… Well, he broke his neck."

Swallowing hard, Sindri continued, "The doctors said he died instantly. I was eight at the time; we were supposed to meet here, right after school. His bus got out before mine, so I didn't see it."

The implications were hitting Dan right in the chest, as he stared at the seat. He wanted to ask if Sindri was sure, but it was a stupid question; who would trick him like this, at such a stupid time? "S-so…"

"So… today was the fifth anniversary. I guess he wanted to check up on me…" Sindri seemed near losing it, so Dan wrapped his arms around him. He had no beliefs about the afterlife, until now. Maybe there was indeed someone out there, making sure people could still watch after their loved ones after death.

In any case, he wouldn't doubt ghost stories ever again; he was in one now.

/AN/ Well, like I said before, hope you enjoyed it. It felt cathartic for me to write it, so I'm feeling good now. J