Author's Note: Oh jeez, I am officially BRAIN DEAD. THIS CHAPTER TOOK SO MUCH THINKING, MAINLY SINCE I SUCK AT WRITING BATTLE-ISH SCENES. -Ahem- Excuse that mild interruption. Anyway, I was so pleased at the wonderful response I got last chapter. Honestly, I wasn't expecting any reviews, unless it was criticism, because my writing is CRAP. I am so very thankful for your support, so please, try to keep the reviews coming? They are what motivate me to keep writing. Also, I think I've decided on Prussia being with Canada, but if anyone disagrees, I'll find a clever way to revert it to my original RomaCan idea. Anyway, as always, please let me know if you spot a spelling/grammar mistake, so I can correct it! SAPPHIRE OUT!
Warning: Genderbends and very mild language will be used. Don't like, don't read.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Hetalia or X-Files. Those wonderful shows belong to their original owners.
Guest: Of course! I am trying to do my best to get these out to you quickly!
Alice: Thanks so much! :)
Chapter Two: The McDonalds Fight
A man with the brightest of red hair burst out of a golden temple, his chocolate brown eyes wide with terror. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him without dropping the golden object that was tucked safely under his arm. It was clear that the man had stolen the object, as the ape-like creatures that chased after him were yelling and screaming savagely for the item to be returned.
The man, despite the nightmarish yells, kept running. He knew the apes would not spare him, so he had to keep moving until he lost them. He soared over tree roots and large holes, even ducking to avoid being hit by flames. The man was about to jump a large gap in the concrete, but for the slightest of seconds, he hesitated, which lead to to his demise as his body plummeted to the ground.
"Oh, come on!" Alfred yelled in frustration and threw his iPhone angrily on the table. He had never been able to beat Temple Run. He always managed to screw up and either make his character fall to his death, or get eaten alive by those strange monsters that made him think of a mutated monkey. Was there even an end to the game? Maybe that was why he had never beaten it. Yes, that had to be it! The game developers were simply trying to make him think he was not a hero by making the game endless.
"Playing Temple Run again, Al?"
The male looked up at the voice, his blue eyes meeting with those of his sister. Madeline's blonde hair was pulled into pigtails as they always were and fell in gentle waves on her shoulders with her curl poking out from the front of her bangs. Her red and white maple leaf-patterned beret rested comfortably on the top of her heart-shaped head and her matching dress hugged her curves perfectly. She was also relatively tall, only being a fourth of an inch shorter than her twin. Now, when comparing the twins in this state, it would appear that the difference would be easy to tell between the siblings. After all, with Madeline's long hair and violet-tinted blue eyes, how could one ever be mistaken for the other? Well, that is easily explained. During the summer, the Canadian female often cut her hair to just below her chin, making it easy to mistake her for her male counterpart.
"Pfft, no. What are you talking about? I already beat Temple Run," Alfred lied with feigned arrogance, quickly shoving his phone into the pocket of his bomber jacket. Madeline rolled her eyes and sat down on the other side of the booth in the fast food restaurant commonly referred to as McDonalds, obviously not believing her brother for a moment.
"Whatever you say, Alfred. So? Do you have the notes? Don't tell me you forgot them," she asked worriedly. After all, it would not be too hard to believe that he would do such a thing. He was not the most responsible nation in the world, and anyone who said otherwise would be kidding themselves.
Alfred laughed at how easily worried his sister got and responded loosely, "Do you really think that I'm that dumb of a hero? Ouch, sis. That hurts. It really does." He revealed the manilla folder as he removed from the inside of his beloved jacket, sliding it across the table. The female immediately looked guilty and took the folder, letting her shoulders sag forward.
"I-I'm sorry, Al. I didn't mean it," she said meekly and quietly, "I've just been... really tired lately. It's nothing against you; I promise." At the end of this statement, Madeline let out a series of coughs into her fist, her eyebrows drawing together in pain.
Alfred could not help but feel worried at the sight, even if it was something he did not normally do. The coughing made him look at details he would normally ignore. For example, he now noticed how pale and fragile his sister appeared and how taking breaths seemed to be painful for her. His sister hardly ever got sick. She had always been relatively healthy and her nation tended to be the most stable and peace-loving, preventing any sicknesses caused by her people. So, when Madeline actually did get sick, it was often a cause for great concern.
"Yo, you okay, Maddie?" Alfred asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
"O-Oui, I'm f-fine," Madeline assured as she regained her breath, though she was still clearly in much pain.
"You're such a bad liar, Madeline," Alfred sighed, actually using his sister's full name, "You're clearly not okay. Even I can tell that. Are you sure that this has nothing to do with your nation?"
The female paused, as if debating if she should continue, then responded, "More and more of the virus is appearing in my nation. My government easily disposes of them, but it almost hurts me worse when they kill them off. I'm having trouble recuperating."
"The virus?!" Alfred grabbed Madeline's soft, almost untouched by the sun hands and looked into her eyes as if it was the worse thing she could have ever said. "Why haven't I heard about this?! You know how dangerous that could be!" he whispered harshly, only barely managing to keep his voice from escalating into a yell.
The Canadian lowered her eyes to avoid her brother's gaze. "I didn't want the rest of the world to freak out because I really am fine. Although I'm having trouble with it currently, my government will take care of everything. This sickness is almost gone; it was much worse in the beginning. Gilbert really helped me through it. What really is hurting me is just the fact of knowing that my people are being killed by the people that are supposed to help them."
Alfred closed his eyes and sighed. He knew that fact all too well. Many of the other nations did, too. He relinquished Madeline's hands and sat back, resting his back on the hard surface of the booth's chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he managed a tired reply, "I know, Maddie. I understand how you feel. Sometimes I just feel... old, as weird as that is to say for me, because of how much I realize the government has changed. Sometimes I wonder-"
"Excuse me, Mr. Jones?"
The blonde looked up at the voice, surprised to find a man and a woman. They both wore black business suits, the only difference being that the man had a long black trench coat over his. The woman was fairly slim and had an hourglass figure. She had a stoic, yet almost inquisitive face that was framed by short bright red hair that stopped just below her chin. The man, however, had dark as night hair with equally dark brown eyes. He was very lanky and tall with pale, milky skin. He had ungracefully long arms and large palms that let their thumbs rest inside the man's pockets. Unlike the woman, the man was much easier to read. He obviously tried to keep his face neutral, but his eyes showed that he was irresistibly curious about Alfred.
"Um, yes?" Alfred asked, very confused on who these people were and how they knew his name.
"I am Agent Mulder of the FBI," the man began, taking out his badge as proof, the woman doing the same action in kind, "and you are under arrest for being a prime suspect in the 'Clockwork case' involving Alex Johnson. You will be taken to the bureau for questioning." At this, many things happened at once. Madeline looked at her brother in shock, her violet-blue eyes displaying the question, 'What did you do now, Al?' And Alfred, recognizing the name Alex Johnson immediately, felt himself pale. How had the agents before him managed to find him? He had thought that he had covered his tracks perfectly, but he had apparently overlooked a crucial detail. After the thoughts had come in rapid succession from both countries, they felt their bodies move on their own.
Agent Mulder reached out to grab Alfred's wrists so that he could cuff them with the metal handcuffs that he had removed from his pocket, but the American instinctually moved to avoid being cuffed by throwing the side of his forearm into the FBI agent's stomach. Being overwhelmed and caught off-guard by Alfred's inhuman strength, Mulder was sent flying into the wall on the other half of the room as though he were only a rag doll. Simple bystanders in the restaurant screamed in horror at the sight. Some of terrified civilians hid behind tables and counters, while the others ran as fast as they could out of the building. The female FBI agent's pale blue eyes widened in surprise and, though she was clearly tempted to go help her partner on the other side of the small fast food restaurant, raised a black pistol that had so far remained sheathed at her side and pointed it at Alfred.
"Don't move!" she commanded with a stern voice, determined to not let the strange events around her phase her.
Alfred simply ignored the command. After all, what could a gun do to him? He was a country, for God's sake. He was practically immortal unless his country fell apart and dissolved. A gun meant nothing. So, with this in mind, he grabbed his sister's wrist, pulled her roughly out of her seat, and ran. He just ran. He heard the click of the pistol's trigger being pulled back then the resounding bang! of a bullet being released, but this did little to scare him. He even felt the sting of the tiny metal object entering his shoulder, but did not flinch. Madeline, of course, let out a muffled scream and stumbled, but Alfred pulled her along so that she would not be left behind. That would be the last thing he wanted.
The two ran out of the building, into Alfred's car, then left for the hills, as it were, leaving the FBI agents stuttering to understand all that had just occurred.
