A/N: Well, this was originally written on a short prompt as a gift to my girlfriend, but the story kind of really grabbed me, so I ran with it.
The title is from the song 'Not For Sale' by Ruslana, which can be found here: www. youtube .com/ watch?v=5h5_QhRtG60 (remove the spaces)
Not For Sale
Chapter 1: Abduction
There was a question on a broken record, the needle skipping and the words repeating over and over. How could she have been so stupid?
It was like a fist rammed into her stomach every time she thought of it, making her feel nauseous and dizzy, even more so than the drug fading from her system. But at the same time... it was a buffer. The thought, on repetition, was something for her mind to latch onto, something to focus on to keep the full brunt of the situation from sinking in. How could she have been so stupid? Again, and again. There was accompaniment as well, once in a while. She was smarter than this, she should have known better, she did know better, how could this be happening, oh God, oh God, how could she have been so stupid?
Ukraine groaned and curled up tighter, she wanted to hold her head, to rub her temples, but her hands wouldn't rise and she was still too numb from whatever that bastard had slipped in her drink to work her wrists free of the ropes. At first the rumbling was background noise, not enough to distract from her frustrated self-deprecating thoughts, but gradually the fog and the lethargy were retreating in the face of a splitting headache and soreness that seemed to permeate her entire body. The rumbling was from the movement of a car. She was lying in the back of some kind of van, like so much cargo. When she tried to sit up, her headache worsened drastically and her gag reflex responded. Laying down quickly again, she swallowed repeatedly and prayed for the world to stop spinning. She didn't particularly fancy the idea of having to add the stench of vomit to that of diesel and cigar smoke and a metallic tang that registered as blood, an all-too-familiar scent.
There was the sound of something being slid aside as she lay there gasping. A conversation, two male voices speaking in thickly accented English, drew her attention temporarily from the feeling of sickness. The men didn't seem to care if she heard, as the little window separating the back of the van from the front seats was left open, probably they thought she only spoke Russian.
"Fuck, the bitch is awake."
"So what? We're nearly there. Saves having to lug her down the goddamn stairs at least. Those things look heavy."
"You see what she did to Nikolai's face before the shit kicked in? Broad's got some fight in her, I ain't paid enough to drag a fuckin' wildcat around. Not a conscious one at least."
"Fine, we'll pull over in a bit and stick her with another dose, but you better not overdo it. This one's gonna be worth somethin' good, figure like that."
Ukraine shuddered and fought the urge to retch, wrists pulling at the restraints desperately. If she could just get her hands free before they pulled over then maybe... maybe...
"Al, have you seen Yekaterina anywhere?" Matthew had the abrupt realization that he might as well have been speaking to a brick wall. This was a sensation he often experienced, much to his frustration, but with Alfred it was usually a different brand than others. The majority of the other Nations, people in general in fact, had a tendency to overlook Canada to levels as extreme as not noticing him even when he screamed in their ears. Alfred was different, he noticed Matthew... at least he noticed when Matthew was present, and then usually proceeded to completely ignore just about everything he said in favor of going on rants about whatever the blond superpower thought was most awesome or annoying at the time. Still, at least his existence was acknowledged when he spoke to Alfred, which was a lot more than could be said for most of his attempts at conversation.
Now, however, the only response Canada received to his question was "Oh come ON, stay in the FUCKING Poke Ball! You suck!" which somehow he didn't think was actually directed at him.
"...Nice to know I'm such a high priority for you, bro." Canada took advantage of his twin's distraction to sneak up behind and yank on his collar. The United States of America jerked, made a strained 'erk!' sound, and flailed enough to flip his chair over. Limbs sprawled gracelessly, mingled with pieces of chair. Matthew felt a bit bad for the poor furniture. It had never done him any harm, after all. Alfred on the other hand...
"Dammit Mattie! I hadn't saved that in an hour!" America mourned the dark screen of his DS, which was in the customized colors of red, white, and blue, of course. With stars too, but the stars were stickers, and there weren't fifty of them because even Alfred was capable of some mild self-restraint every once in a while.
"Alfred. Have you seen Ukraine?" Matthew repeated, ignoring his brother's complaints. This was a very narrow window, and if he wanted America's attention he had to act now.
"Of course! Lots of times!" Alfred rolled his eyes as he disentangled himself from the chair's remains and shook a few splinters off his bomber's jacket. "She's the one with the really great-" even with the game system in his hand, the gesture Alfred had begun to make around his chest was impossible to misinterpret, and Matthew decided to do his brother a favor and cut him off before he felt obligated to punch him in the face.
"I meant recently, have you seen her recently?" He interrupted with a sigh, "I called her a couple days ago and her secretary said she was out... which I thought was odd, because we'd planned to meet for some lunch that day, but she never showed. I figured she was busy, what with all the stuff that's been going on in Europe and with her brother but... I called again today and they asked me if I'd seen her so..." Canada stopped talking. There was no point, it was doubtful America could hear him over all that raucous laughter.
"You got stood up!" America actually doubled over, "oh man, Mattie, I mean come on she is so out of your league! It's just redirection, duh! I'm sorry but-"
"Ok, stop." Matthew held up a hand for emphasis, and Alfred dissolved into giggles. Manly giggles. American giggles. Giggles that in no way resembled any sort of school girl. Seriously. Shut up, he can lift buffalo over his head. "We're not... dating. And anyway she's not out of my league. I mean, that is, she's amazing but there's nothing wrong with me!" Alfred might have said something derisive here if he hadn't still been laughing. Probably something that would have been a really great burn, too. Oh man, it would've been awesome. Too bad about those giggles. I mean laughs. Yeah. "...We're getting off-topic. All I asked was have you seen her?"
Alfred took a few deep breaths, wiping a tear of mirth from one eye and slowly managing to straighten up again, still wearing the biggest shit-eating grin in the world. Matthew crossed his arms and waited expectantly for America to finish pulling himself together.
"Mattie got duuuumped~!" The giggles were back.
"...I'm going to go talk to Arthur."
"It's ok Mattie! There are plenty of fish in the sea!" Alfred called out the door after him.
"Get bent!"
Ah, brotherly love.
To Be Continued.