Seychelles pulled Sealand along as they hiked through the forest.
The latter fell to his knees suddenly and panted.
"It's no use," he said between gasps of air. "We'll never see civilization again!"
"No," the elder said. "I promised your brother I'd bring you back safely. I promise YOU that I will bring you back safely. And I WILL bring you back safely, even if it costs me my life!"
She proceeded to pick him up and put him on her back. She piggy-backed him and started for the way they were heading.
This isn't right… Sealand thought. She noticed her legs wobbling from carrying his somewhat heavy figure.
"S-Seychelles… nee-chan… p-put me d-down….. I can… I can walk…" Sealand said.
Seychelles shook her head. "You almost fainted just now, and you still sound tired. I'm not going to let you walk on your own."
"But… I'm slowing you down…"
She shook her head again. "I don't care. You rest. I'll be OK. We'll be OK," She looked back at the 12-year-old and smiled.
Sealand felt like crying. He felt really guilty for trying to give up just now. Now he was slowing both Seychelles and the chance of ever being found alive.
-flashback-
It was supposed to be a normal day on one of Seychelles' islands. The four them were there, England, Seychelles, Sealand and America, having a joyful picnic.
Then just suddenly, the French came and attacked. Sealand and Seychelles weren't really prepared. But England and America were. They brought guns and America brought a bazooka.
"Ridiculous," Seychelles had laughed when she saw their weapons.
The Englishman scoffed. "But Alfred told Francis! I'm bloody worried he'll come and boom the picnic!"
She grinned. "We won't be needing those, trust me."
She was wrong. They were using it that very second. She called upon her troops, told them to defend the country.
Then she ran into the jungle with Sealand when England ordered them to.
"Save yourselves!" he had said, shooting another French through the forehead. He died instantly. If Seychelles really did promise England to bring him back safely, Sealand didn't hear it.
They ran, and ran, and they never stopped running until it got dark.
Over the three days they had been there, they had encountered countless beasts, some Seychelles almost lost her life for.
Three days being lost, and all he got was a scar on his left arm. Seychelles had gained multiple bruises, scars, wounds, etc, on her, her head mostly.
Just now had she gained yet more injuries, fighting a wild tiger that almost got her throat. Had Sealand not hit the tiger with a stick he found nearby, he'd be dead meat now. Literally.
So here they were now. Lost on one of Seychelles' own islands.
-flashback end-
Sealand was snoring softly.
She could hear it. She smiled.
Nice to feel some serenity, especially when you're lost in the middle of a jungle with your boyfriend's 12-year-old brother, she thought.
A small rock hit her head where she was bruised. She flinched. Must have been a monkey. She didn't know much about the other land animals, but she knew her monkeys like throwing things. Ever so often she'd catch them throwing a mango seed her way.
She heard a gunshot somewhere behind her. Then another.
She felt light-headed suddenly.
Huh? Why do I feel…. Oh, gods, no, please, I can't be blacking out now… I can't…. just leave… Peter… and… She fell down with a thud.
Sealand woke up hearing the sound. He still felt weak, but he had enough energy to support himself on his left elbow and open his eyes. Just a teensy bit. He couldn't feel his right arm, for some reason.
"Who's there?" called a voice. It was male, but he couldn't tell who's. The accent was for some reason unfamiliar, too.
He could hear raged breath from the island girl. Crimson-coloured liquid was spreading on the back of her right shoulder. "Nee… chan…?"
He nudged her. Then he shook her. Absolutely no response. The heavy breathing just continued. He shook her a little harder. Still no response. "S-Seychelles… nee…"
America appeared from a bush to his left. He gasped. Sealand mustered just enough energy to say, "Help… Seychelles… nee…"
"Arthur! Arthur! I found them! Come quick! I think…" he couldn't hear anything after that. He could blurrily see his brother running towards their direction, then… nothing. The world just went black.
The next time Seychelles woke up was in a hospital bed. She was surprised she woke up at all. She tried to recall the events that had happened before she reduced to her unconscious state. An army attacking her island… Protecting a boy… getting lost in a jungle…
A blonde man in a green suit to her left, slouching slightly over a person in the other bed, had his back facing her.
Somehow, the man seemed familiar… She thought she used to care for him… sometime… not very long ago…
"Ar...thur…" She said softly.
He turned around. Tears filled his eyes. Another man to her right woke from his sleep. She looked at him. "Al… Al…" she tried to remember a human name that suited him, but couldn't. She recognized which nation he was, though. "America…" she said.
England squeezed her hand, holding back tears. "Don't try to talk," he said. "You're still not in good condition."
The American sighed. "You were out for two months, Sey,"
Her eyes widened, as if remembering something. "Peter!" she exclaimed, trying to sit up. She couldn't feel herself. "Peter! Where's Peter?" her heartbeat sped, as if worried.
"Seychelles! Calm down, he's right there," America gestured to the bed beside hers, the one England was slouching over earlier.
The sight of him made Seychelles want to cry.
"One of the frog's men shot you. Luckily Alfred and I found you then. Your shot's not so bad, but Peter's…"
"Since the shot came from behind, and you were carrying Peter on your back…"
Realization struck her like lightning. The tears streamed down her face like the never ending flowing of a waterfall she saw on one of her islands once.
"The doctor said he might… d-d-d-…" America couldn't bring himself to say the next word. But they knew what he meant. They cried even more. Even America was starting to tear up a little. He wished he hadn't mentioned that last part.
She could sit up a few days after regaining consciousness. Sealand still didn't even flinch. Each passing day she spent worrying about him.
The poor little… I shouldn't have…. Agh, this is all my fault! She'd think constantly.
A week later she'd told England, "It's all my fault he's like this. He shouldn't be here. He should be back in his fort, fixing its leaks and making it look pretty for when he becomes a full-fledged nation. I can't bear with this. I can't live anymore. Kill me, Arthur! Kill me! Screw up one of your spells again and kill me!"
He shook his head and tried to console her. "No, it's not your fault. It's that bloody frog Francis'. We were merely having a picnic. We'll beat his bloody ass. We'll get your islands back. And Peter WILL wake up. Don't… cry… you…" he sighed. He didn't know why he bothered to try. But he did. Because he loved her, he decided.
That night Seychelles woke up from a 'bloody' nightmare, as England would have called it. Or Sealand. Then Sealand would've been lectured by his elder brother for using the word. It was a replay of the events that had unfolded the previous week.
She turned to her left. Sure enough, Sealand was lying there, still unconscious, his heart beating steadily. England snoozed beside him.
She turned to her right. Ah, the second reason she couldn't sleep. Alfred Jones, she remembered now.
She looked back to her left. She decided she'd try to speak to him, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.
She sighed. Tomorrow, she decided, and went back to sleep.
Or at least, she tried to. Every time she closed her eyes, she'd have a picture of Sealand with a halo and wings, flying to the heavens.
She sat up, couldn't rest peacefully. "Peter…" she started. Her voice sounded dry, cracked. "Listen… ah… I know I promised that… I'd bring you back safely, in one piece… but… looking at you now… I… I… I'm so sorry Peter! Please, Peter, wake up soon! Everyone's worried! And it's all my fault! Forgive me!" she bowed her head several times and looked up at Sealand.
A tear slid down his cheek. She gasped, almost choking on tears.
Somehow, she felt relieved. She felt really tired, so went to sleep. She didn't notice how her and Sealand's heartbeat had increased…
Drastically.
"Nee-chan… wake up… time to go…" Sealand shook Seychelles lightly, and she woke up.
"Peter! You're alive!" She exclaimed, hugging the boy.
"Well, no, actually, I'm…"
Seychelles smile turned into a frown. Her happy face turned into a look of horror. She looked down at her lifeless body, at the nations surrounding the both of them.
Hungary. Belarus. Ukraine. Taiwan. Japan. China. America. Poland. Russia. Germany. Italy. Romano. Even Prussia was there. England was in the middle of it all, holding her and Sealand's hands.
Their bodies hands.
Sealand tugged her soul's hand.
"Let's go..." he said.
Seychelles shook her head. "I don't want to leave… not yet…"
"We can still watch over them… they won't see us… but we'll see them…"
Seychelles looked at him. She stroke England's cheek, and he seemed to show that he felt it. He looked straight through her. She nodded.
They flew.
England came home after the funeral and found a small note on his tea table (it's a coffee table, he just liked to call It that). He saw ghost Seychelles sitting on the sofa, fidgeting nervously. She looked up and smiled at him, then must've thought that he couldn't see her, because he was pretending he didn't, so she went back to looking down and twiddling her fingers.
He picked up the note.
"You can't see us, but we'll always be watching over you, Arthur…
P.S. Peter is at Francis'. You better go get him before someone gets hurt. (spell book page 510)"
Now, I'm sure you're asking why Iggy can see Seysey. Actually I'm kind of making it that he can see both of their ghosts. Why the bloody hell can he? Because as we all know, our beloved Iggy-chan can see 'things'. It would only make sense he could see them!
Yeah, aaand I'm sorry if it sucks, I'm not used to this stuff, the words just flew out… like it was natural… or something. Anyway, I seriously wanted to write something different form my usual, so you should understand. PLEASE! And I was writing it while listening to The Delicious Tomato Song! God damn! Argh… now I'm off to try and kill Iggy and bury him in a soup can. Bye!