Denmark has an uncontrollable fear of heights. In Denmark, the land is entirely flat and cycler friendly, and unlike the other Nordic nations, he is not accustomed to high mountains and steep valley's. It is a secret he has kept to himself since the beginning of the Viking age. But it had never been that much of a problem for him to hide from the others, as long as his feet were still planted on the ground that is. Even when scaling up tall cliff sides he was full of determination and spirit that helped to diminish any of the creeping concern of falling.

There was one incident though, when Denmark was in Norway, where he had tripped and slipped 7 metres down a cliff side to land on a snowy ledge. He sprained both his ankles and had done something to his back, as well as receiving a fair few nasty gashes from sliding so far and so fast. They had stopped for four days to help him recover, before Norway had insisted they should push on. It wouldn't do Denmark any good if they didn't get out of the cold.

Denmark had managed to avoid taking planes for many years before the others became suspicious. It hadn't seemed too strange to anyone at first when Denmark said he would meet them in America via yacht. Denmark loved the ocean, and he often took time off to simply sail around the waters, so what was so wrong about taking a couple weeks off to sail to America just in time for a conference? Nothing really.
But as of the recent workload, his boss would not grant him time off before anymore world meetings. Denmark had started making up all kinds of excuses to why he couldn't go.

"What if I make the whole world sick?" Mathias forced a sniff "I think it's contagious!" He tried to sound as nasally as possible.

"No, Danmark, you must attend this meeting. I will not allow you to be absent anymore."

Denmark whined and ended the call to the pay phone "Yes sir." He muttered before leaning back against the outside wall to the airport. He took a deep breath and held onto it a few seconds before letting it go.

This would be his first time on a plane and he was not looking forward to it. Of all his duties he had to do as a nation, he'd prefer anything to this. If they continued to hold the world meetings in Europe his life would be so much easier and he wouldn't have to face the embarrassment of everyone finding out about his fear of flying.

"Aren't you cold standing out here?" He heard the familiar voice and looked up to see Norway pulling a bag out of a taxi van. Norway had been in Germany the past week doing some other business that required his presence. So when Denmark asked him if he'd join him on the flight to America it wasn't too much of a hassle and he agreed.

"Don't you talk like you don't appreciate me waiting for you" He pushed himself off the wall. "I could have gone inside and left you wandering aimlessly for me." Denmark helped him with his luggage. As long as Norway was here, he could have something to distract him in between things and hopefully make the trip easier.

"Danmark, you stick out like a sore thumb in crowds." He took his bags from Denmark and walked through the doors. Denmark followed him inside, feeling more anxious being in the actual building where he was expected to wait for his death flight. He kept close to Norway, not wanting to let him out of his sight. It was more a case of getting himself lost than losing Norway that worried him.

As it was his first time actually using an airport himself Denmark did his best to follow Norway's lead and still look natural as he went, he was doing surprisingly well. Norway hadn't even noticed him fumble as he sorted out his passport and boarding pass, that or he didn't mention it out loud.
Handing over his luggage was the easiest part of all of it but a piece of him didn't trust that he was going to get it back.

Denmark hovered behind Norway until he was given a good, hard elbow to the stomach. He wasn't appreciating his heals being stepped on.
"Will you give me some room?" he snarled at stuttering mess behind him.

"Ah yeah, sorry." He took a hurried step back "Ya think we should sit down somewhere?" He desperately needed to take a seat. He could feel his legs going soft on him and his stomach was churning.

Norway took a glance at his watch and back up. "Yeah, sure. I'll get some coffee for us." He gestured towards the waiting lounge and for Denmark to take a seat, while Norway wandered off into the building to find some of that coffee.

Denmark exhaled heavily as he slumped down into his chair. It didn't take long before he was picking at threads at the seat and had scratched a mark into the side of the arm chair. He was fidgety and all the scenario's of how this day could end were running through his mind.

He wondered if they could mess up their seats and be sat in different places, his moral support would be gone. And what if something went wrong with the plane, what would happen if an engine caught on fire?

What if the plane crashed on take off and they came hurling back down to earth before they had even left the country? At least he'd die on his own soil. Damn it no, don't think like that. He cursed to himself.

Maybe they'd crash in the water, what if they all got lost at sea and no one ever found them? Or what if they couldn't get the doors of the plane open and they all drowned inside? What if Norway died in the accident and he lived? He wouldn't be able to live with that.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden flapping of papers on his lap that jolted him back to here and now. He looked down and then up. Norway had thrown a crossword book in his lap.
"Crosswords, to keep yourself amused." Norway sat down next to him and carefully observed the stressed looks Denmark was giving him.

"Ah! Yeah t-thanks," his voice was laced with stutters.

"Danmark?" Norway handed him his cup of takeaway coffee, which Denmark accepted gratefully. "You look like you're getting worked up over something."

Norway was almost expecting Denmark to say something along the lines of 'I forgot to water my plants' or 'I didn't check that the oven was off, my house is going to explode.'
But when he got a quick response saying he was fine he was increasingly curious. Denmark was hunched over with both hands weaved around the paper cup and his two thumbs were firmly pressed together which was a sure sign he was anxious about something.

"You don't look fine…"

"I'm just sick, I don't wanna make everyone else ill as well," he faked another sniff. Now he was lying to Norway and his boss. This wasn't going well.

Norway gave him a single nod and relaxed into his own chair beside Denmark, trying to ignore the man. Denmark did his best to keep himself occupied with the puzzle book but his constant moving was irritating Norway even more so than he would normally allow. So it wasn't surprising that he was relieved to be finally standing up again when their flight was called.

Norway checked his boarding pass and took a few steps towards their gate when he realized Denmark was not beside him. He looked back to find Denmark still slumped over in his chair, one hand covering his face. His shoulders were almost… trembling.

Norway swallowed thickly and murmured "Danmark?"

He pushed himself off the chair with nearly shaky arms, face to the floor. He dragged his feet over to Norway and stood above him.
"Nor, do you think we could just not go?" His voice wavered causing him to look down. Not daring to make eye contact.

Norway was stunned at the change in him. His normally pretentious, brave, idiotic friend was in dread. He was trying to remember the last time he had even seen him like this. Denmark was nearly fainting onto his shoulder.

Norway craned his head back to look Denmark in the eyes. He brushed the hair off Denmark's face in an uncharacteristic attempt to soothe him. "Danmark, what's wrong?"

He was on the edge of breaking down into a mess as he held onto Norway's shoulders and hid his face. He couldn't keep it in any longer and he confessed to Norway his nearly life long fear of heights, the fear of falling. He begged Norway to help find a way around boarding the plane. He begged him to stay with him in Europe. He begged him not to go.

Norway's mouth dropped open.

This whole time he had been right about Denmark. He'd known all along that there was something odd about him during these times. The excuses, the long trips away, but he understood why. It was a creeping suspicion he had held about Denmark for years but never thought to question it.

He nod.

Denmark sighed but his smile was still uneasy.

"I can't miss this meeting. I still have to get on that plane, Danmark." He looked at Denmark with sympathy and took his hand in his own. Denmark exhaled and nodded but Norway could tell there was nothing certain about him. "I'll let you hold my hand during take off."

A small smile appeared on Denmark's face as Norway lead him by the hand to security check, ignoring the prying eyes of people around them. Norway did his best to offer supportive words through the whole process from there, without causing the Dane embarrassment, which proved to be a difficult task for him.

He told Denmark to pretend like it was all a movie set, and that none of it was actually happening. It was like one of those shows where everyone had a script except you, and you just had to play along with it. It definitely made security check easier and a lot of fun for Denmark.

It was a good to ease his mind.

Right before boarding the plane, Denmark started to panic once again. His breathing got heavy and he could feel his body tremble. He fiddled with the boarding pass in his hands, anxiety crawled all over him. Norway had to help him along and spoke for him, explaining quietly to the hostess that his friend had never been on a flight before. She nodded, understanding.

They took their seats and Denmark was quick to fasten the seat belt in right away. His chest was heaving for air, his face turned to look out the window, the ground was already seeming so far away. The air hostess returned to them with two bottles of water and sick bag. Norway thanked her and she nodded obviously used to this happening.

"Danmark."

Norway held his hand out for Denmark to hold which he took appreciatively. He pushed his head back into the seat, closed his eyes and tried to get his breathing to match Norway's inhales and exhales. They sat calmly for a while as business went on around them.

A voice from the pilot came over the speaker, introducing himself and the crew. The following information about emergency exits and oxygen masks did nothing to help calm the Danes nerves but he listened carefully in case the terrible situation of needing them would arise.

Once again they were in silence, or what felt like silence to Denmark, again. His fingers were knitted around Norway's and holding tightly as if letting go of his hand may become the very cause of the plane crashing. Norway rubbed his thumb over Denmark's knuckle and squeezed back. "This is it Dan."

And the engines start.

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Wow I haven't been in an international airport in 10 years. Forgive this. Heights