Date: December 28th, 3000
Time: 12:50am
Location: Budapest, Hungary, Elizaveta's house

If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
Then we'd see the day when nobody died

I'm singing, "Amen I,

I'm alive."

-If Everyone Cared, Nickelback

Elizaveta had awoken that morning, letting out a small groan as she sat up with great difficulty, prising her sleep-encrusted eyes open, the morning sunlight filtering through the blinds, and momentarily she cringed away from it, momentarily mystified by the brightness of her bedroom light, pulling the pillow over her head in a vain attempt to escape the underlying dull pain that surged through her aching body. She felt as though every country in the world had used her for target practice, and then dumped her bloodied body in a vat of boiling oil, or rather, what she imagined it would feel like. If she was honest with herself, she just didn't feel all to up to getting out of bed at the moment, and if Roderich had been there to see her in such a state, there was no doubt in her mind that he'd forbid her to leave the confines of the bed.

Fighting the virtually uncontrollable urge to give in to the temptation to bury her face in the pillow and ignore the roads stained with red, or the mass graves, filled to bursting point with the mangled corpses of strangers, that lay beyond the window, and undoubtedly on the other side of the borders that surrounded Hungary, just for one day she could escape the relentless suffering of the world, forget the frankly terrifying fact that the innocent lives of millions were at the mercy of the bloodthirsty, tyrannical Russia, though a part of her knew this to be impossible. As much as she would love to be rid of the trauma and the constant worry that Roderich or Ludwig or even Gilbert would be the next to fall. It was empty and quiet in her house now, and she missed having other nations come to visit and sit with her, or even to just to bother her. She really wished that someone, anyone, would come. She would even welcome in France or Gilbert, or both, just anything to break the silence. What was the world coming to?

Glancing over at the bedside table, her emerald green eyes scanned the surface, taking several seconds to acknowledge her mobile phone, the 'message' icon illuminated and casting a faint glow upon the wooden surface. Elizaveta's now racing mind recalled something about having a meeting that morning with the Rebellion, and didn't know if she would even go this time since she wasn't feeling well. Hell, she felt as though she was heavily hung-over, but another part of her just told her to get up and that she could do it. Elizaveta did eventually swing herself out of bed, picking up her mobile phone as she went, automatically checking through her messages, well, message since the only thing she had received was from Gilbert, and though she hated to admit it, the only reason that she took the slightest ounce of interest in it was due to Ludwig's current physical state. She was late to the meeting, really late.

Elizaveta let out a sigh, throwing her phone onto her bed as she went to pick out something to wear. The mere thought of choosing a piece of clothing for some unknown reason again directed her thoughts towards the albino, despite her better judgement, and their previous face-to-face encounter playing through her mind, despite the fact that she'd done her best to act as though it had never happened. It had been such a long time since he'd visited, months even, though even now his obnoxious tones replayed constantly in the back of her mind, which did nothing to help her mood. Apparently, Gilbert had the power to frustrate those around him without even having to be present.

Elizaveta pulled out a CD and placed it in the portable CD player she had bought from a trip to Japan's house and put the headphones over her ears. Light, beautiful classical music played, but it just wasn't like Rod's playing. Gilbert would've destroyed the disk if he'd been present, though thankfully, he was causing havoc elsewhere that day, most likely with Francis and Antonio. Those three were virtually inseparable these days. She pulled the headphones off of her head, and fumbled with the various buttons and dials until the CD player ejected "Beethoven's Symphony No. 7," before inserting another, this one brightly coloured and bearing the name "Green Day" in graffiti-style lettering. This particular CD had been given to her by Alfred, and though she had never been too fond of rock music, Alfred had said she would like one particular song on it over all of the rest. She immediately selected the track that he had specified which caught her by surprise as her ears were automatically blasted with the electric guitar chords of "She's a Rebel." A slight smile playing across her lips, the music died instantly as she pulled the headphones off, turning down the volume letting and out a small sigh. He just couldn't help himself sometimes.

She put the headphones back on and listened to the song all the way through and laughed a little, she would never understand Alfred, but he was right about one thing. She had enjoyed that song over all of the others. Hungary set the CD player down on the table before her and sat there for a while enjoying a nice moment of silence before her cell phone went off with a loud shrill ring. She jumped and quickly checked to see who it was; a text from Ludwig and one from Roderich. Liz went and looked at the text from Ludwig; ranting on about how "If that ungrateful idiot turned up on her doorstep not to send him back home, because he wasn't welcome." Sighing in slight desperation, she discarded the message and selected Roderich's. So Gilbert would turn up to drive her to the verge of insanity after all, and this time, or so she assumed, Ludwig wouldn't be around to collect him when he emptied the liqueur cabinet.

Oh joy.

Despite the situation, she couldn't suppress a slight chuckle at the thought of what exactly the albino had done to aggravate his usually level-headed brother quite this much as she skimmed through Rod's lengthy text. Her face went blank for a second before she let out a dark chuckle and a grin spread across her face as she sent back a" be over there soon," and went straight to her kitchen to seize a frying pan before marching out the door.

Gilbert just never learned when to keep his nose out of things.

Elizaveta snuck up right behind the former nation, who had decided to see if Roderich's ahoge was anything like Veneziano or Romano's, and was currently in the process of pulling on it and not getting much of nothing but an annoyed gaze and a yelp every once in a while if he yanked to hard. She let out a chuckle from behind him, frying pan raised, and the alcoholic layabout froze momentarily, releasing his grip on Roderich's hair and looking back, almost wishing he hadn't. Almost, but not quite.

She stood right there, frying pan raised, before slamming it with surprising force, considering her physique, right into his face before beating him with it continuously in the side until she felt like he had enough. She could never quite understand why Gilbert was perfectly happy to pick a fight with absolutely anybody, and due to his strength rarely lost, although with her he acted as though he was completely helpless. He didn't even seem to realise that it was completely his choice to be beaten continuously with her frying pan; he could've easily avoided it.

Elizaveta smiled as she put the pan away, making sure to step on her childhood friend as she walked over to Roderich, resuming her usual position by his side as he sat at the piano.

Roderich sighed a little, "Finally, now I can get back to composing that one piece I've been working on."

"May I stay and listen?" Elizaveta asked, her face brightening at the mention of Austria composing something. His music never ceased to soothe her thoughts.

"Ja, I'm almost done with it, actually." He nodded once, sending a very brief smile back before he set back to playing the soft notes, the two completely ignoring the apparently passed out albino on the floor.

Gilbert, however, had other intentions. Ignoring the searing pain in his left side and temple, he pushed against the floral carpeted floor, dragging himself along across the length of the room as not to draw too much attention to himself. Usually, being quiet was next to impossible for the German, although on occasion he found himself in a situation such as this one, in which much could be achieved by biding his time and all that crap that Arthur constantly went on about at the mention of MI6, or any sort of secret organisation.

She loved days like these, where they were peaceful and she got to spend them listening to her former lover's beautiful compositions, and despite all of its faults the world seemed to be a much better place with him at her side, when all that mattered was the endless stream of soft and perfectly formed notes, the sound of Rod's breathing, the rise and fall of his chest as his hands skimmed masterfully across the keys, forming perfect chords with every movement...

She could almost believe that she was falling for him again...

At that moment, the beautiful composition was shattered by an enraged squeal, Liz's voice so high that it almost sounded as though she was trying to sing soprano as she attempted to snatched her skirt away and glared into the slightly startled crimson eyes of the apparently perverted albino from where he half sat-half stood with one hand on her skirt and the other gripping the back of the piano stool, inches from her backside as he used them to push himself upright, though currently frozen in a squatting position, still clutching her skirts as though his life depended on it.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!"

Elizaveta shook her head, suddenly paying her complete and utter attention to tending to any bandages that she may have needed, in an almost vain attempt to force the recollection from her mind, and cringing ever so slightly as she dabbed at the wound with a wet cloth. Honestly, she knew that though Gil was a lot of things, though a pervert was not one of them. Technically. Well, if you thought about it... He'd act as though he could get away with anything, and there was no denying that he had done a whole lot of inappropriate things in the past few weeks alone, his criminal record proved that, though he'd never have the guts to continue after the screams erupted, or when he got to the point where he could easily have raped somebody. And there was no doubt by his change of attitude in such situations that he somewhat regretted his actions, although few others seemed to notice when he showed weakness. Well, generally speaking.

Her thoughts were once again interrupted by the shrill tones of her mobile phone, this time however playing the first verse of "American Idiot" so loud that she half expected to find Green Day standing behind her screaming in her face, which was cut short as she grabbed the device and went to hold it to her ear, until an equally load "DUUUDE!" erupted from it, still ringing in her eardrums as Alfred continued to yell down the phone line, instantly knocking any tiredness that remained from her. As he ranted on about something or another, barely pausing for breath and continuing to deafen her as he "spoke," it took a moment or two to comprehend exactly what he was saying due to the commotion at the other end of the line, and another to acknowledge the fact that he wasn't yelling as he usually did. This time he could obviously barely conceal his complete rage, every word seemingly verbally attacking her as he continued his tirade. Honestly, it scared the crap out of her, hearing his so enraged as he currently was, considering his usual ignorant, excitable self, despite the fact that his anger was clearly not aimed at her.

From what little of his speech that Elizaveta could comprehend, the key words "Mattie," "meeting's cancelled" and "kick Ivan's fucking ass" stood out like a sore thumb.

Without much hesitation, Elizabeta grabbed her coat as she rushed through the house and spoke a few pointless words of comfort, which were left unheard by Alfred due to his continuation of his yelling, which appeared to change from time to time to yelling at whoever else was at the other end of the line, as she turned and headed to the front door, not even pausing to lock the door to the house properly, all else forgotten but to get a last minute flight to Washington DC, her face a mask of confusion and worry.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

:D Now's where things start heating up! You can expect a lot of violence, cliff-hangers, major plot twists, a HUGE surprise, and...

A little romance...

I know this chapter wasn't my best work, but I promise from here on, it's gonna be nothing but awesome!