"Iceland."
Norway sat uncomfortably close, as if any distance might make him disappear into thin air. Iceland, sitting across from him, looked every-what-way except into his brother's eyes, until Norway leaned in, forcing him to look forward.
"Are you listening?" Norway demanded.
"Yeah. I just think you're overreacting. Sweden can't keep you forever. It'll be over in no time."
"Denmark doesn't think so."
"Denmark always thinks you won't come back! You go fishing and you're not gone five minutes before he thinks you got eaten by a sea monster or something."
Norway gave a huff of frustration. "That's my point! Pay attention, Iceland; this is serious, and we don't have a lot of time. I need you to do something for me."
"Okay..."
"You need to look after Denmark while I'm gone."
"What! I'm not-"
"Shut up! Let me explain. He's really going to need someone to talk to, and I don't know if I'll ever be allowed to visit. I don't trust Greenland to do anything besides yell at him, and he doesn't even know that Faroes exists half the time. So you're his best bet."
"Oh, come on!"
"Lillebror."
Iceland just stared at him. Lillebror...? Norway hadn't called him that in years. Not since he was small...
"Please. If you don't do this for Denmark, at least do it for me."
Iceland fidgeted. He looked away again until Norway grabbed him by the jaw and turned his head back. Iceland mumbled something that may or may not have been a suitable response.
"Time's up," came Sweden's bored voice then, as he strolled through the door and set a heavy hand on Norway's shoulder.
"Iceland, promise me you'll look after him!" Norway pleaded.
Maybe it was the triumphant smirk Sweden had on his face that did it. Or maybe Iceland had lost his sanity (something he dismissed at once; he refused to go mad unless sharks became extinct and parachutes became a rare antiquity). Whatever it was, he finally bit the bullet, just as Sweden began dragging Norway away.
"Okay," Iceland said hurriedly, standing to block Sweden's progress. "I promise. For you."
Setting a single finger on Iceland's chest and daintily prodding him aside, Sweden took his exit, and the last Iceland saw of his brother was the lost look on Norway's face, before the door slammed shut, severing contact.