A/N: Uh... actually not much to say...

Onto the story~

Chapter I

"No, no, no, no Belarus!" Denmark cringed as his 'sweet' and 'innocent' looking patient snapped the paintbrush in half. "Stop! How many times did I tell you, control yourself. That's what this whole activity is about!"

"Painting is an unnecessary activity," the girl glared daggers at her frustrated psychiatrist. To further emphasise her displeasure, she continued to rip the pitiable sheet of paper into tiny miniscule shreds with her sharp claws-for-nails. "I do not have, and do not care to have the required patience."

And that's why you're psycho! Denmark sobbed internally, not daring enough to voice his remarks. "C'mon now," he comforted, putting a casual hand on Belarus's shoulders to execute a pat of encouragement. "I'm sure if you try hard enough, you can do it!"

"Touch me one more time and I will make sure you never see those fingers again!"

Denmark groaned. He must've done something really really terrible in his previous life to deserve such a mad and uncooperative patient.

Reluctantly, the Dane retracted his fingers, figuring that he should not underestimate the validity in Belarus's threat. He had only been working in this psychiatric ward for little more than a month and so far, he hated every minute of it. The staffs were all really nice and stuff, but he did not think he could last a second longer with his psycho patient. Said patient who, at the moment, was trying to take apart the poor, defenceless chair she was sitting on.

But as of the current economy, he should be glad he even had a job.

The International Asylum for the Mentally Insane, at first glance, resembled a prestigious residence. Fully equipped with all the latest technology and currently accepting patients from all over the globe, there was no surprise that it was considered by many as one of the world's most prominent facilities. The outer building, complete with high-end insulating glass windows and a grand gated entrance regularly attracted admiration from the passerby. Hidden from the outside was a beautiful garden, located conveniently in the center of the asylum. Filled with a variety of exotic vegetation, it is often used by staff members as a unique type of therapeutic treatment. Further inside the campus held the doctors' offices, where hundreds of the sick interact daily with their assigned psychiatrist in search for their lost sanity. It had only been pure luck did a no name like Denmark was offered a job to such an impressive place. And as much as he was grateful for it, the Dane still wished that his current patient would stop threatening to painfully rip his fingers out of their original sockets.

"Natalia," Denmark sighed, and carefully, making sure that his fingers were still intact, guided the aggressive Belarusian out of his much abused office. As they descended down the elevator, Denmark began his daily lecture, wishing for once that it will somehow sink in into that stubborn one-sided head of his patient's. "You need to start listening to others. If something does not go your way or if someone disagrees with you, then you will calmly reply them with words, I repeat, words, not knives." The elevator door slide open, and Denmark, offering an encouraging smile, gingerly held onto the girl's hand and led her outside in hopes that the sunny weather would somehow lessen the intensity of her violence. "Lithuania told me you tried to harass his patient again."

"I was not harassing Russia!" Belarus glowered. Despite the Dane's hopes, the sun's radiant rays made her look no less menacing. "I was simply speeding up the process of us becoming one together. It is only a matter of time before we are forever bonded by matrimony."

Denmark sighed. "I think that I've gone over this, oh I don't know, a billion times! Stop trying to marry him! Russia doesn't feel that way about you!"

"You are wrong!" the girl growled, making the Dane shiver as her sharp teeth bared and glistened in the sun. "He is misguided! He doesn't know what he wants. But I do," she stopped suddenly, looking for once like a normal teenage girl caught up in a beautiful daydream. "Me and him, we are destined to be together. Is it not obvious that we are perfect for each other?"

Oh it's obvious alright, obviously insane!

"How 'bout we stop talking about this and just sit down for a while," wishing desperately to discontinue the subject, Denmark pulled Belarus onto a bench seat in the middle of the garden. Perhaps some nice quiet time shall calm the girl, and possibly pry her away from her never-gonna-happen fantasy. Taking advantage of the pause, Denmark briefly in his mind reviewed his patient's identified sickness: erotomania, a delusional disorder in which the sufferer holds an unshakeable belief that another person is secretly in love with them. Belarus wasn't hard to diagnose, no, not at all. Getting her treated though, was a completely different story.

Natalia grumbled but obliged nevertheless. Her hospital gown fluttered in the warm summer wind. Despite her often-gruesome behaviours, Belarus rather enjoyed the outdoors. She likes it when the breeze flows through her long platinum-blond hair. For a while, they just sat there, with Denmark quietly marvelling the therapeutic effects nature had on patients.

As they were about to return to the building, something caught the corner of Denmark's speculating eye. He whirled around, almost tripping his own feet, and stared curiously at the front. Belarus, who also noticed the addition in company, followed his gaze.

Three people, led by the head psychiatrist Lithuania, entered the garden. At first, Denmark thought that they were simply some family members coming to see their sick relatives. However, as they drew closer, the Dane realised that it was much more than just a simple visit. The tallest of the trio, a bespectacled and stoic-looking man, fidgeted and was evidently uncomfortable at the thought of being in a mental asylum. Behind him followed a much shorter man, a concerned looking individual who was currently juggling between firing questions at Lithuania and softly whispering comforts to the third man at the back. But just before Denmark was able to examine the last man, Belarus interrupted his train of thought as she let out a deafening scream of delight and madly dashed towards a certain scarf-wearing individual presently coming out into the garden.

"Ah, Belarus!" Abandoning all possible distractions, Denmark chased after the insane girl. "Come back here! Stop harassing Russia! No, no, no, not his scarf! Belarus!"

In a desperate attempt to stop his passionately in love patient from strangling her romantic interest, Denmark raced after as quickly as he could. But despite the emergency at hand, he still could not suppress his unsatisfied curiosity at the third man. Out of the corner of his eyes, his gaze followed him, staring with utmost interest. A small golden hair clip caught his attention as it reflected under the bright July sun.

Said man suddenly stared back. Lovely blond hair wavering in the cool breeze framed his unhealthily thin face. For a fraction of the second their gaze met, Denmark could not help but feel a frightened flutter in the pit of his stomach.

There was nothing but emptiness in those striking cerulean eyes.

"Are you sure this is absolutely, positively, without-a-doubt, best for Norway?" a man with wide violet eyes asked, desperation and distrust leaking in his voice. "I don't know if letting him stay here is such a good idea. I mean, it's not like I'm doubting your medical skills or anything. It's just that I feel more comfortable letting him stay home. He's not that bad. I mean he can take care of himself just fine, except that sometimes, you know, he will randomly talk to his dead brother. I'm sure it's just a phase. His brother was pretty dear to him and all. Him, Su-san, Norway, and I, we've been such good friends for so long and it's just terrible to lose a loved one. But I'm sure that if you give him enough time he'll turn right back to normal. Norge has never one to hold onto so much emotion. It just had been a very traumatizing thing. Is all of this really necessary? What if he doesn't eat enough, he's so skinny already! Who's gonna make sure that he sleeps well at night? Lately he's been getting all these nightmares! We're all extremely upset. I mean getting into a car accident is just about the worst way to die right? It's just that –"

"Fin," Sweden placed a restraining hand on the Finn's shoulder. "Y'er blabbin' aga'n."

"Oh sorry," Finland give a grim apologetic smile to Lithuania. "I tend to talk a lot when I'm anxious or upset. It's not that I like to listen to myself talk or anything. It's just that sometimes, it's easier to just talk and fill up the empty space you know. And you can ignore half the things I say 'cause most of the time, they're not really that important. I mean, I didn't say don't listen to me, but you –"

"Fin."

"I did it again didn't I?"

Lithuania smiled kindly. "I fully understand your concerns, Mr. Vainamoinen." He paced around his large, spacious office. A sad smile surfaced onto his face as he realised that his three guests stood in wary proximity to one another, not yet sure to break their own bubble of trust. With a thoughtful expression, he walked toward the worried Finn and stared at him with absolute kindness in his eyes. "But I guarantee that we will do absolutely all we can for Norway. I realise you are nervous and unsure about this decision; many of our patients' families at first had felt the same. But you can be assured that it is the right one. If Norway is not immediately cared for with the right expertise and treatment, there will most likely be far graver consequences." He paused, and cast a sympathetic glance at the said Norwegian, who, at the moment, was busily distracted by the painting of 'The Scream' mounted on the office wall. "How long had he been seeing things?"

Finland opened his mouth to answer, but Sweden was faster. "Three m'nths."

"It first started after the burial service." Finland added, putting in his effort to help. "He was very quiet in the beginning and wouldn't talk to us but we just thought he was upset, I mean we all were pretty upset. Then, after the service had ended, he got really really quiet and wouldn't leave. It was raining pretty badly that day so I begged him to come home with us but he just ignored me. Then, when I tried to comfort him, he turned to me and said 'Ice's right here'. Su-san and I both thought that Norway was simply too shocked to realise what was going on so we just dragged him home, hoping that maybe some time will clear his head. But that night, he threw a huge fit over dinner because we didn't set the plates for Iceland. And after that, it just got worse and worse. He would talk to blank air like it was Ice and leave the TV on claiming that Ice was watching it. We just…" Finland's voice choked on the words. "We don't know what to do anymore." He kept his eyes focused on the lovely bamboo flooring, unable to face the doctor as if all the madness was somehow his fault.

Lithuania kindly took the Finn's hands, eyes filled with compassion and understanding. "You've made the right choice coming to us. I am sure that with some time, Norway will return to his normal self. I will personally see him to a skilled psychiatrist, one that is specialised in delusional disorders. Please do not worry. He will be in great hands."

"Can we v'sit 'im?" Sweden, who stood silently for all this time, suddenly spoke.

"Yes of course," Lithuania nodded, content to finally offer some positive answer. "We do familial visits every other week and you will get a thorough report every month by Norway's personal doctor covering both the details of the treatment and his recuperation process." The smiling psychiatrist walked toward the Norwegian and squeezed his shoulders reassuringly.

Without even a mere glance, Norway shrugged him off. "Don't touch me."

Finland whispered an awkward apology to Lithuania, who in turn nodded his head in full understanding. "It's alright," he replied. "It is only natural that he feels uncomfortable being touched by a stranger. Many of our other patients feel the same."

Sweden glowered slightly, but not much can be perceived from his usually stoic face. He did not like the idea of Norway being referred to and categorised with those who were mentally cracked and astray from reality. At risk or not, Norway was still their friend, and despite his strange behaviours, Sweden felt that this whole thing was rather unnecessary. But Finland had insisted, and the Swede never doubted his wife.

"Is everything set up already?" Lithuania, sensing Sweden's unease, quickly changed the topic. "The caretakers, they've taken Norway's stuff to his room right?"

"Yes, thank you, they were very efficient."

"Good," Lithuania smiled. His white lab coat fluttered a little as he paced to his desk and took out a paper-bloated binder. Even from the distance, Sweden could see that it was filled with confidential patient files. Lithuania furrowed his eyebrows in concentration and made some quick notes on an almost blank sheet of paper, presumably Norway's file, before looking up again. "Would you like to meet the doctor now, or would you rather wait until we tour this place first?"

"D'ctor."

"Alright then" Toris nodded. He picked up an intercom phone mounted on his desk and began to dial furiously. A brief silence later, his voice filled the room. "Yes, can you ask the new doctor to come to my office for a second … No, no, not that one, the Danish one …Yes, yes, Denmark… What? What happened to Russia? … My goodness! Can you take over for a second? … Alright, alright, thank you… Yes… alright thank you…"

Lithuania gently put the phone back into place and turned a sheepish grin to the anxious-looking couple. "Um, well" he stammered awkwardly, "an incident had happened with one of our patients, but the doctor I assigned for Mr. Norway should be on his way now. Rest assured, Dr. Denmark is a psychiatric expert specialised in the fields of delusional disorders. Personality and skills wise, I feel that he is perfect for Norway's condition."

Finland looked with hopes in his eyes, something Lithuania had already became immune to as he had seen enough hope lingering in the eyes of his patients, only to have it shatter into a million different pieces. "Would he cure Norge?" the Finn asked, wishful desperation shook his voice.

Of course, Lithuania wanted to say, most certainly. But nothing is certain and nothing hurts more than crushed hope. "I'm sorry, you know I don't have an answer to that," his face was grim but sensibly sombre. "We will try our best for him. 90% of our patients improve over long periods of treatment you know."

"Thank you," Finland whispered as he looked away. "I appreciate your honesty."

There was a brief awkward silence. Norway sill had not yet given any input to this forced, uncomfortable conversation. Sweden stared the Norwegian in pained speculation, and without turning away, he asked "'Ow long w'll it tak'?"

Lithuania shook his head. "It's different for every patient as each is unique in their own way of mental stability. For some, it could be two months, for others, it could be…" he stopped all of a sudden, unsure of whether he should continue. A look from Sweden urged him on, and Lithuania, as quietly as he could, uttered out the unwanted truth. "For others, it could be… it could be never." His voice was light and airy, as if to lift the heavy weight in the severity of his words.

Finland's eyes widened. A muffled yelp of surprise and desperation escaped his lips. He turned to look at Norway, fingers reached out in unease to caress his friend's face. "Never?" he repeated, dumbfound. Frowning at the sudden touch, Norway brushed those fingers away.

The room sat in a disturbing silence. Lithuania watched with concern as Sweden wrapped his long protective arms around his wife, who in turn smiled appreciatively at the attempted comfort.

For a brief second, all was calm. And then –

"You wanted to see me Doc?" the door suddenly flew open in a loud disrupting bang. In walked a flailing Dane, arms moving wildly in displeasure. "Sorry I'm late. But man, do you have any idea how long it took me to get that crazy Belarusian on some sedatives? There really should be like a wall between her and Russia or something. Look, she even bit me!" Rolling up the sleeve of his lab coat, Denmark showed off in an undignified huff the ugly bruise of what was clear to be teeth marks. "Not cool, man, not cool at all!"

Lithuania slapped his forehead. "Dr. Denmark," he said pleadingly, voice strained. "Please do not be so vocal. We have guests."

"Wha-" the Dane whirled around, only to found himself face to face with a glaring, and may he add, rather intimidating Swede. "Oh, sorry, sorry, um, heh, heh," Laughing nervously, he inched himself backwards in slow cautious steps. "Pardon my, um, intrusion."

"Tis the d'ctor?"

"Yes um," Lithuania stepped forward, palms open in an earnest desperation to save face for the Dane. "Despite his, uh, appearance, Dr. Denmark is actually a psychiatric expert specialised in mental diseases, with several degrees in psychological sicknesses and counselling actually. Brilliant, really, well most of the time anyways. He's just a little, uh agitated today because of the behaviour of his current patient Belarus. But I guarantee there is no doubt on my mind that he is the best man for Mr. Norway's present conditions."

As Denmark quickly scanned over the guests, a sudden realisation dawned on him. They were the same group he seen earlier in the garden with Belarus. A curious glance flung to the back where Norway was standing. From the close proximity, Denmark easily recognised him as the man with the cold blue eyes. "Yes, yes" Looking as professional as he could, Denmark quickly nodded, patting down his large white lab coat. "I am sure that within time, you will realise that expertise-wise, I am best for Nor-, wait what?" As the words leaving his mouth finally reached his brain, Denmark turned furiously around, raising a questioning eyebrow toward Lithuania. "I'm what?"

The Head psychiatrist nodded nervously. "Well, that's why I've called you here, Doctor, to inform you that from now on, you shall be Norway's personal psychiatrist."

"Woah, there Doc, can I speak to you privately?" Under both Finland and Sweden's speculating eye, Denmark quickly dragged Lithuania into a corner. A hand was raised to muffle their voices, "When'd you sign me up for this?"

"Um just now," Lithuania whispered, confused by the disapproval in the Dane's voice. "You are specialised in schizophrenia and delusional disorders. Mr. Norway is perfect. And didn't you always complained about Ms. Belarus being too violent and loud? Of course, if you have too much on your plate," Blushing suddenly, he stammered, "I can take Ms. Belarus."

Denmark looked surprised, but just for a slight second, as a look of smugness and understanding quickly slipped into his expression. Grinning ear to ear, he laughed, "Ahh, I see what you've done there Doc, I see what you've done there. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. I'll take this Norway guy and you can have that psycho girl all to yourself."

As the two engaged in their quiet banter, Sweden watched carefully. He cannot help but feel a little uncertain about this facility. With the way the two doctors were acting now, surely they cannot be trusted. Norway was their friend since a long time, close enough even to be brothers. To fully place Norge's wellbeing into the hands of complete strangers, Sweden felt more than reluctant.

With unexpected suddenness, Denmark turned away from his little 'private' conversation and instead laid his eyes on Norway. Ignoring a flustered Lithuanian protesting behind him, he marched right up to the Norwegian and tilted upwards his chin to force eye contact between the two of them. "Hello there," he smirked, hoping that his natural charm and charisma would break Norway's unfazed expression, "you're one lucky person because guess what, I just agreed to be your personal psychiatrist for your stay here." Moving dangerously closer to the Norwegian's face, he declared dramatically. "Together, we're going to find and shatter all your fears and insecurities, and therefore establishing a beautiful friendship in which you shall be grateful for in all of eternity."

Expecting the Norwegian to freak out, Sweden quickly moved toward him in an attempt to yank the Dane away. But to his, and everyone else's, surprise, Norway did not pull away or even flinch from the physical contact. Instead he spoke, a voice full of contempt and defiance that took Denmark completely off guard.

"You're an idiot."

And Sweden thought that it was just about the most rational thing he had heard from the Norwegian in months.