Well, here it is. Another Iceland story.

Anyways, this was based on Hitomi Shirou's story Family Relations, so if you're okay with mpreg, I suggest you read that before reading this.

Disclaimer: Don't own, why Sue and not Dan?

He was all alone, it was all he could think of, he was alone and completely naked on the bed, the sheets bunched up in his still trembling fist. He needed to get out of his home, as fast as possible,even though he looked as if a flock of puffins attacked him. He had to get to nii-chan. He had to get to nii-chan.

He had to get to nii-chan.

The battered country got himself out of his bed, his spine throbbing dully with pain as well as other various parts of his body. Tears welled up in his eyes and began to fall down rapidly on his cheeks when he realized what had just happened to him just a few minutes ago. Delicately, he put on his white dress shirt and maroon jacket and pants (at least what was left of them). The ribbon he usually tied neatly around his neck fluttered around aimlessly in the nonexistent breeze, and he didn't have the patience (or the courage) to completely lace up his high boots. Looking around fearfully at his room, he breathed a shaky breath he didn't know he had held.

How could he, the violet eyed country thought angrily, tears dripping out of his eyes and onto his sticky cheeks. He had trusted him so much, and now he was paid back like this.

But first things first. He had to get to his brother's house, now. Iceland stumbled painfully out of the door..

"Norge… I'm hungry, get me something to eat, huh?"

"No way, bastard," was the curt reply from Norway. "Get your own food. I'm not a wife like Tino."

Denmark snorted. "So what? You are practically my wife, y'know."

Norway ignored the last comment and simply sighed through his nose as he opened the newspaper and started to flip through the thin pages. Peace and quiet reigned… for about a second.

"So? Are you going to get me the food or not?"

An icy glare was directed at Denmark from dull graphite gray eyes, followed by a swift smack to the head with the rolled up newspaper.

"Shut it about the food, Anko. You're really annoying today."

"So? You know love me," Denmark laughed happily, hitting Norway hard on his back, "I mean, c'mon, you had twins of my own seed, don't deny it Norge."

"Don't bring Olav and Radulf into this," Norway replied sharply, vying away from the Dane's hand. Then, the smaller Nordic relaxed as he folded his hands together in front of his stomach.

Only a few years ago, it had been swollen and full with the twins the Nordic country loved so much. But, the twins were six now, and incredibly rebellious as well. They weren't so cute anymore when they were squeezing one of Norway's favorite fairies "by accident" or smashing the lamp in the living room to bits with far's battle axe. Sometimes, the seemingly emotionless country wished that his children could become babies again; when they were so sweet, agreeable, and had limited mobility.

"Danemark," Norway began, hesitating a bit towards the end.

"Hvad?"

The Norwegian bit his bottom lip slightly before continuing, "What do you think about having another kid?"

There was a tense silence between the two.

"Well?" a hint of anxiousness tinted the normally monotone voice, and although Denmark wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, the country could tell that his little "wife" really wanted this.

"I- I guess we could, but Norge… isn't this a bit fast? I mean, it took us a while to decide on the twins, and now you suddenly want-"

"If you don't want any more, then you can see just say it," Norway interrupted, his voice back to its emotionless state. He opened the newspaper again, "I was just asking."

Another moment of silence passed amongst the two of them, but this one awkward and uncomfortable. Several more minutes passed, when suddenly the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Norway said, reaching out to the small coffee table the telephone was situated on. He picked up the receiver, but before he could utter a "hello" the person at the other end of the line started to talk.

"Hallo? Nii-chan? Are you there?"

"Island?"

"Nii-chan, I'm coming over to your house right now, you're at home, right?" Iceland's voice asked. It sounded edgy and scared, a tone Norway had never heard from his younger brother. "Nii-chan, I'm almost there, please don't go anywhere," Iceland pleaded.

And there was that name Iceland kept calling him. Nii-chan. Norway remembered how he had asked the violet-eyed nation to call him that name back when they found out that they were brothers. Of course, Iceland refused until the very end, even when the other Scandinavian nations had attempted to make him call them as nii-chan as well. Why would he suddenly want to call him that now?"

"Island, what happened?"

There was a loud choking sound at the end. Norway pressed the receiver close to his ear.

"I-I'll tell you later, nii-chan," Iceland answered, his voice crackling with static.

"What? I can't hear you too well. Island?"

The dial tone rang ominously in Norway's ear.

"Norge, is something wrong with the little brat?"

Denmark's (annoying) voice startled the Nordic nation, and he turned towards his husband.

"Don't call him a brat. Something happened to Island, but I'm too sure what."

The sunflower blond simply shrugged.

"Whatever. Hey, I'll pick up Olav and Radulf, 'kay?"

Norway didn't respond, still deep in thought as to what could have happened to his younger brother. Denmark took that as a yes, and started to leave towards the door.

"See you later, Norge, have a nice time with your bror," Denmark called loudly before shutting the door.

After hearing the car start and head off, Norway looked at the clock on the wall. It was early afternoon. The thought of Iceland being hurt wouldn't go away from his mind. Sure, Island was slightly sick with a cold, but he never complained too much about it. Why did he sound so scared over the phone just now?

Sighing, Norway tried to dismiss the phone call from Iceland and looked down at his stomach once again. A new worry began to form in his head. Denmark seemed worried when he had brought up the topic about having another kid. Sure, the pregnancy had been taxing on the Norwegian, but it was all worth it in the end. Norway longed for a baby for some reason. Maybe it was because of that intoxicating, milky scent that seemed to enervate from a newborn, or just because he missed being able to hold something he loved in his arms and wouldn't squirm or be too heavy to hold in the first place. Norway felt an aching loneliness for a second, when suddenly he heard a loud, incessant knocking at his door.

Norway rushed to the door, already knowing who was behind it. He opened it, and immediately had to catch a falling Iceland into his arms. The gossamer haired boy had passed out. The Nordic country turned his younger brother over face up, whose head fell limply, and his gray eyes widened considerably.

The younger nation had purple- yellowish bruises along his jaw and near his eye sockets. His prized ribbon was hanging lifelessly on his neck, where the pale column of flesh was covered in… were those hickeys? Iceland's hair was messed up even more than usual at least, and his lips were red and covered in dried blood. Meanwhile, his white dress shirt was tattered, and his jacket slightly torn at the stitches. The white boots he was wearing was scuffed and his pants were also shredded at certain places.

Norway gulped mentally as he realized why Iceland sounded so terrified over the phone. Whatever had happened to him could not have been good, and he lightly shook his brother.

"Island… "

The small nation stirred slightly. Then, Iceland fluttered his snow-white eyelashes and opened his eyes ever so slowly. As soon as they seemed to see Norway however, the violet orbs began to shift around faster than usual, and Norway could feel the pulse of Iceland's heart begin racing.

"W-who- "

"Island! It's me, Norge, your onii-chan!"

Iceland began to thrash about wildly, almost kicking Norway.

"Get away from me! Get away!"

Norway attempted to grasp Iceland's wrists to prevent them from punching him, but as soon as he had his hands around them, Iceland panicked ten times more.

"Please, please stop!" he screamed, tears were beginning to stream down his bruised face. "I don't want this, please, just stay away! Get out, get out, get OUT!"

The shocked nation quickly released his hands, and saw his little brother fall down to the floor; scurrying to the nearest wall and tuck his legs underneath his chin, hugging them against his chest. Norway could see that he was shivering.

"It's your bror, Norge, " Norway repeated, he himself scared as well. He reached out his hand to touch Iceland, who tried to shy away from the outreaching appendage. Sighing, Norway took in a deep breath.

"Sulla meg litt, du mamma mi

Skal du få snor på skjorta di

Vil du ha gule, vil du ha blå…"

Iceland snapped his head upwards when he recognized that familiar tune. He stared at Norway before his eyes started to water again. Norway walked up closer to the traumatized country, and hugged him in his arms.

"Vil du ha blanke, skal du det få

På skjorta di

Du mamma mi…"

Iceland started to sob, as Norway continued to hold Iceland in his arms, singing quietly lulling his Bror to the dark depths of slumber.

Well, there it is. Should I continue? For now, I'll just put it down as complete. If you'd like more, just click the review button and I'll see if I want to add more.