Title: We Were Never Human
Rating: T (you know why by now)
Pairings: SuFin and DenNor
Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya. Also, the basic outline of all superpowers was provided by Superpower Wiki.
Denmark - Mathias Densen
Norway - Lukas Thomassen
Iceland - Emil Steilssen
Sweden - Berwald Oxenstierna
Sealand - Peter Kirkland
Finland - Tino Väinamöinen
We Were Never Human: Three:
The third was more of a scary accident than anything, but of course, we're happy to have him with us now.
I glance around the abandoned plaza. "Okay, so I admit this is a bad situation-"
"Bad situation?" Norway demands. "We have to dismantle a bomb before it blows us all up! None of us know how to dismantle a bomb-" He pauses, and glances at Sweden. "Well, unless it counts for your Tech-"
"No," Sweden says. "Weapons don't work."
"Well that's useless," I say, glancing around. "We should at least find it, right?"
Norway and Sweden nod. I rake my eyes across the plaza, "Hey, what's that over there?" Maybe a bomb. I wouldn't know, I've never seen one before. In any case, there's something hidden over there, under a pile of red-and-orange fallen leaves.
"Let's check," Norway says, and Sweden and I follow him without hesitation. We've fought side-by-side for almost a year now, and knew him months before that, when he and his younger brother Iceland were sick. They ran away. Neither have told me why yet.
I jump aside. A bullet whistles past me, and I turn just in time to see it shoot over Sweden's head. The gun drops from the hand of the man behind him as he collapses.
Sweden's expression is truly terrified. That bullet nearly hit him, and that man was about to kill him. I would be terrified too.
"W-what..." Norway whips around to scan the buildings. He calls, "Who's there?"
"Just me! Be quiet, I won't hit you! I'll explain it all later!" an unfamiliar voice shouts back, guileless despite the fact that he just ended a life. I can't quite place where the voice is coming from, but I'm too busy staring at the man who was trying to kill Sweden. Or at least, what's left of him. Blood pumps from his head. A perfect shot.
"Okay," Sweden agrees.
"There's no bomb, just stay there for a little," they assure us. I identify it as a male.
"Okay," Sweden says again.
I glance at him. They won't be able to hit me, so I'm not worried, but Sweden and Norway are out in the open. And Sweden's just...
Norway slides over to me. "Idiot," he mutters as he takes my hand. "Get me out of the way if there's another bullet."
"Sure!" I agree. I'm not sure if I'll be able to pull him out of the way in time for fear of dislocating his shoulder, but if I have to, I'll at least be able to jump in the way and block the bullet.
It's silent for a little bit, and eventually the three of us start walking towards the 'bomb' again. I don't know what it really is.
A few more gunshots and we whirl around to see three more bodies. Perfect shots through the head, all of them. Well-practiced but effortless, life-saving but lethal.
"Okay, that should be it!" the strange voice says happily. I try to find the source, and I only figure it out when I see a man sling a sniper's rifle over his shoulder and clamber down from a roof.
He bounces up to us, "Hi! I know you three-you're Denmark, Sweden, and Norway! I'm Finland!"
Finland smiles innocently as he holds one soft hand out for someone to shake, and I glance at the four people he just killed.
"Pleasure," Sweden mumbles at last, shaking Finland's hand firmly. Finland smiles wider, brushing his blonde hair back and stuttering something about "no, the pleasure is all mine, really it's an honor to meet you" or some polite crap like that. He apologizes for nearly shooting Sweden, but explains that he's superhuman, too, and he never misses his mark (he taps the gun meaningfully here, still smiling as innocently as a goddamn six-year-old).
"Nice to meet ya, Finland!" I say, grinning. "Gotta say, pretty cool superpower ya got there."
He smiles modestly, and even blushes a bit, glancing down at his feet in what seems to be embarrassment. "Well, I-I just practice a lot."
That really doesn't make me feel more comfortable around him.
"A-anyways, do you have everything settled? Or should I come help you with the last few?" he offers. "It'd be no problem, really!"
I've learned over the years that phrases like that are secret non-blunt people code for 'please please please let me help I'm begging you,' so I give in pretty easily. Sweden and Norway don't seem opposed to the idea, so Finland comes with us, chattering all the way.
I think I like him already.
•this time skip is brought to you by England's mother, Britannia
We figure out there's not any more baddies hanging around. Before we can disappear into the security of our human names and aliases again, back into the comfort of anonymity, Finland asks, "Uh... So you guys work together, right? Just the three of you?"
He's trying desperately not to be rude. My knowledge of non-blunt people code only goes so far, however. Thankfully, Norway swoops in to answer in the same code, and soon enough I blurt out, "Hey! D'ya wanna come live with us?"
Finland nearly drops his gun, then catches it and nods fiercely. "Yes, uh. Yes, I do!"
"Looks like we've got another member of the team of fabulousness!" I grin. I made up that name just now, I'm sure they'll love it!
"That is definitely the lamest thing I've heard you say all day," Norway deadpans.
Ah. He's just crushing my dreams again (we're still holding hands, though).
Finland skips happily along beside us as we head for the car. I'm driving, because Norway's only seventeen and also doesn't know how to drive very well yet, and because Sweden's only nineteen, and meanwhile I'm twenty (shut up that's a huge difference). I don't know how old Finland is, but he can't be older than, say, sixteen. Therefore, I assume he's exactly sixteen years old.
My mind threatens to go on a rather dark tangent about him already being used to so much blood and death at such a young age, but I decide it's not worth the effort and instead drift in and out of a thoughtless haze, only brought back to reality by the occasional scream from the back seat. I swerve the car wildly and hope those pedestrians wrote their wills already.
We get out of the car and Tino is only slightly shaken. Norway goes ahead to keep ten-year-old Iceland from melting something (or someone) with lava when he sees a stranger with a gun enter the house (even if Tino is a very nice-looking, friendly stranger with a gun).
"I'm in love," Sweden says plainly, as soon as the door closes behind them.
I laugh and reach up to sling an arm around his shoulders, forcing him to bend almost double. I tell him as I lead him towards the front door, "I knew it. You're too predictable, IKEA dude."
Long story short, Sweden REALLY likes IKEA and there are some things you can never live down. I'll let you interpret that as you wish.
We enter the room to find Finland (gun still slung over his shoulder) playing Legos with Iceland. I hurry to join them. Norway and Sweden hang back, probably to gossip about us in their scary, emotionless voices.
I glance between Norway and Sweden and Finland. It's just the four of us. Just the four of us against the world.
Three down, two to go.
