Disclaimer: AilateH nwo t'nod eW!
A/N: Hey, everyone!
So far we're getting pretty good reviews on the story. Do we ever get anything less? I suppose not. But it does make me feel better about writing. That's true. Dala's choice of OC is appearing in this scene, along with another, and they're . . . interesting. For lack of a better word.
Enjoy! Please review!
The Korean War
1950 – 1953
America/South Korea/the UN VS. China/USSR/North Kroea
Italy shivered as she finally awoke. She had fallen asleep during the boat ride back to the doppelganger's headquarters. That, or they had drugged her somehow. The first thing the female nation noticed was the she had been dressed in clothing that obviously weren't hers. A sweater, jeans, socks, and tennis shoes. Definitely not her style. The second thing Italy noticed was the cell she had been locked in.
"Denny?" Italy asked hopefully, a note of fear in her voice.
"Nej," a rough voice replied. It echoed down the empty hallway, having come from across Italy's cell. "Sw'den."
"Sweden?" Italy crawled to the bars of her cell, wrapping a hand around the cool metal. "Did they get you too?"
"Ja." The taller nation looked exhausted and beaten. "S'veral days ago."
Italy's eyes filled with tears and she slumped to the floor. "And no one will know we're missing," she maoned.
"Pr'bably not," Sweden agreed. "We're in a c'stle in my l'nd. It's pr'bably why they k'dnapped me."
"I should have listened to Denny and not gone out swimming before dinner," Italy moped, picking at her sweater sleeve. "We were going to have pasta, too."
"D'nmark cook p'sta?" Sweden chuckled. "That's a f'rst.'
"I taught him," Italy said proudly. "He can cook all sorts of pasta." Her face fell at the thought. "But now I won't get to try it."
"You idiot!" Belarus screeched from the cell beside Italy's. "Now you are going to make her cry!"
"I didn't mean to," Sweden mumbled.
"That doesn't matter," Belarus hissed. "If she starts crying then we're all doomed!"
"W-What are you talking about?" Italy asked, tears welling in her eyes. "Why are you here, Bela?"
"I don't know," Belarus snapped. "All I know is that I was attacked while Lithuania was out with the kids."
"W-What are we going to do?" Italy's voice hitched with fear.
"I don't know!" Belarus snapped. "We could try breaking out or something."
"I tried th'at," Sweden interrupted. "It didn't w'rk and it only m'kes th'm mad."
"Maybe we could send a signal to the others," Italy said hopefully.
"Do you see any damn birds around here?" Belarus practically screamed. "They're not going to be able to find us!"
"Well . . ." Italy was quiet for a moment before she thought of something and spoke again. "Romano and I share land," she said. "Perhaps I could somehow send a message to him."
"I don't th'nk th't w'll w'rk," Sweden commented.
"I guess not." Italy rested her chin on the stone floor. "I suppose it's only America and South who can do that."
There was muttering in Belarusian as the female nation crossed her legs.
"Have any of you seen Poland?" Belarus asked, remembering her niece.
"Nej." Sweden shook his head.
"No," Italy said in a moping tone. "I just woke up."
"Hmph." Belarus crossed her arms and glared at the cell across from her. "I saw her when I was captured. She was taken by my husband's look-alike."
"L'thuania?" Her eyes having fully adjusted to the dark by now, Italy could see Sweden leaning against the wall, his legs drawn up to his chest.
"A look-alike?" Italy perked up at the words. "A doppelganger? Like the realms?"
"Tak," Belarus said with a nod. "Like the realms, only worse."
"They're not d'ppelgangers," Sweden muttered.
"What are they, then?" Italy asked, a quiver in his voice.
"They're W'rs," Sweden replied. "All of th'm are the sp'rit of our w'rs and h'te."
"Wars?" Italy squeaked out. "Hate? But Iceland and Australia haven't been in that many wars. Have they?"
"Nej," Sweden sighed. "Th'se two are r'latively peacef'l. They don't l'ke f'ghting."
"That explains why my kidnappers were so mean," Belarus huffed. "They would not stop fighting me!"
"Who kidnapped you?" Italy asked curiously.
"Lithuania, Estonia, and Latvia," Belarus snapped. "They are not very strong, but they make it up with their cruelty."
The three nations froze at the sound of a door slamming shut and footsteps echoing off the walls. Italy sank back into the very back of the cell, cowering against the cold, stone wall. A form stopped outside her cell. It was pushing a cart with three trays on it. Sweden growled something in his language and figure replied fluently.
"Who the hell are you?" Belarus grabbed the bars of her cage, fury written on her face.
"You don't remember me?" America stepped out of the shadows. He grinned at Italy and Belarus. "Ciao, Veneziano." Italy's eyes widened and she whimpered in fear.
"Leave her al'ne." Sweden stood and grabbed a bar, shaking it easily.
America rolled his eyes and whirled around, a fist flying into Sweden's face. The tall nations grunted and stumbled back. He hit the wall, sliding down. Blood covered the tallest nation's face and his glasses had fallen to the ground where they shattered.
"Sweden!" Belarus screamed. "You bastard!"
"Yeah, yeah." America rolled his eyes again. Taking the tray, he unlocked Sweden's cell and placed it on the ground. The cell door was slammed shut before the nation could react.
Italy crept forward to check on her brother-in-law briefly. America stepped up to her cell, a tray in his hand.
"Can I give this to you?" America asked casually. "Or should I just take you out like I did him?"
Italy jumped in surprise and scuttled backward toward her bed. America sighed and opened the cell door, placed the tray on the floor, and then shut the door quickly. He stepped up to Belarus' door and there was the sound of a brief scuffle before he appeared beside the cart.
Italy watched the war leave before she moved forward to inspect the food. It was a simple dish of stew and bread. A cup of water had been placed on the tray.
"What has gotten you upset?" Belarus snapped. Sweden looked up from his tray and mumbled something incoherently.
"What's wrong, Sweden?" Italy asked worriedly. She picked up her bowl of stew and stirred it slowly.
"The f'll moon is c'ming up," Sweden repeated himself, this time louder.
"Cosa?" Italy's eyes widened in realization. She had never seen Sweden transform before and she never wanted to. Finland had told her it was horrifying. "But you could escape and attack us all!"
"That's wh't I'm w'rried about," Sweden admitted. "It's in l'ss th'n a week."
"What do we do?" Italy asked helplessly.
"We ignore it," Belarus snapped. Sweden looked up again, this time to glare at her. "And let him eat the Wars."
"What if he eats us?" Italy nearly howled. "I don't want to die!"
"Belarus," Sweden sighed.
"Don't blame me!" Belarus replied sharply. "She's a crybaby. What do you expect?"
o)O(o
South wrapped her arms around Prussia' waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. She stood on her tiptoes to peek into the frying pan.
"What are you makin'?" South asked in a singsong voice.
"Wurst," Prussia said with a smirk. "Since we're back in Germany, I figured we should have some of my awesome food to celebrate."
"What's wurst?" South made a face at the name of the food. "I think grits sounds better."
"Ground up corn?" It was Prussia's turn to make a face. "How can you eat that lame stuff? I'll take my wurst over that any day."
"But it's grits," South pressed. "Grits. Grits. Grits." She tried the word in several different tones. "That just rolls off the tongue. Grits. Wurst just sounds stupid."
"Grits," Prussia repeated. The way he said it sounded more like 'ga-rits' but without the southern twang. "Lame. I can't even say it like you do. Do all of America's children like that lame corn stuff?"
South stuck her tongue out at her husband. "No," she said. "Most of the southern states hate it."
"I can see why," Prussia muttered. He dished the wurst onto a plate.
"What's wrong with grits?" South followed Prussia around like a happy puppy. "I think they taste just fine. Especially if you put honey on them."
"It's bland." Prussia turned around and propped wurst into South's mouth. "This has flavor to it. It's almost as awesome as I am."
South made a face and chewed before suddenly spitting the wurst into the trash. "It tastes like horse."
"Was?" Prussia balked. "Nein! Wurst is German for sausage. It's awesome!"
"It tastes like horse," South repeated. Her normally blue eyes turned a sorrowful grey. "We had to eat ours after we ran out of food durin' a march."
"Um . . ." Prussia blinked before chuckling weakly. "Hey, South, where's Smokey?"
"Smokey?" South blinked, her eyes returning to their cornflower blue. "Who's Smokey?"
"Your pet bear," Prussia replied. He had the exact tone Smokey did when Canada had first met the black bear. Like he was used to saying it.
"Oh, him." South opened the bread drawer and took a loaf out. She wrapped a wurst in a slice and took a bite out of it. "He ran off before we left. Somethin' about killin' another bear."
"I better call Birdie," Prussia sighed. "Why are you eating the wurst like that?" He made a face at his wife.
"It's good," South replied, taking another bite. "Now it's not so spicy."
"If that's what it take to get you to eat it." Prussia shrugged and took a bit of wurst. He hummed contentedly. "I haven't had good German wurst in too long."
"I'll make you sausage gravy," South hummed. "All of the southern states love it. Except for Alabama, he refuses to try it."
"Alabama hates you, doesn't he?" Prussia asked as he took another bite of wurst.
"He does?" South looked confused at the idea.
"Ja." Prussia nodded and set the empty plate aside. "He leaves the room whenever you walk in and he almost never answers you questions unless America tells him to."
"I thought he was shy." South frowned. "We never really got alon' I guess."
"Why not?" Prussia asked. "Does it have something to do with the scar?" He traced along his right cheek with a pale finger.
"Yeah." South leaned against the counter. "Haven't you ever noticed?"
"Noticed what?" Prussia cocked his head in curiosity. He rarely got the chance to see his wife so serious.
"Alabama is one of the few black states," South pointed out. "Before the War of Southern Independence he was he was caught and sold into slavery. He never really forgave me for that."
"Wasn't he your capital, though?" Prussia asked in confusion. "Wait. He was . . ." His eyes widened. "So . . . that scar he has on his cheek is from . . . a slave master?"
"Yeah." South crossed her arms and nodded. "His brothers managed to sneak him up to the north, but he never forgave me for it."
Prussia watched his wife sadly. Finally, he patted her on the shoulder. "I'm sure he'll come around," he said. "He can't hate you forever. Look at Poland. She forgave Germany."
"If I tell him that," South said dryly. "He'll probably throw a pie in my face again."
"Again?" Prussia cocked his head. "He threw a pie at you before?"
"Yep," South giggled slightly. "North said I had too much to drink and was demandin' the states return to me. Alabama had drunk just as much as me and got mad. So he threw a pie in my face."
"I'll keep the pie away from him." Prussia patted his wife's shoulder again.
"I like blueberry." South nuzzled her nose against Prussia's.
"You want pie?" Prussia asked. "I could get you some."
"I'll be fine," South sighed. "I just want some sleep. Flyin' is no fun."
"I bet I could help you sleep," Prussia said with a smirk. He scooped his wife into his arms.
"Pumpkin!" South giggled.
"Well isn't that sweet?" a cocky voice sneered from behind the pair.
o)O(o
Finland giggled nervously as she was dragged into the large room by Estonia. Slovakia, Norway, and North Korea soon followed. England glanced up from her hands, relief in her eyes.
"Where did you find her?" the winged nation asked.
"She got lost in the forest," Estonia sighed as he deposited Finland into a chair.
"What were you doing in the forest?" Austria asked in confusion. Finland only brightened in color.
"I was looking for Su-san," she admitted. "He disappeared nearly a month ago. I haven't seen him since." She looked up and seemed to notice her surroundings for once.
Every possible surface was covered in nations. And, if they didn't fit, they sat in the other room with the doors wide open. It seemed like the whole world had invaded Slovakia's house.
Hong Kong, Japan, Korea, and Taiwan all had cellphones to their ears. If they didn't receive an answer, then they hung up and redialed. Vietnam sat by herself in the corner watching her family fret.
"Hey!" The doors were suddenly thrown open, causing every nation to jump in surprise. "Where's the party?" The man standing in the doorway grinned. His dark hair hung over his equally dark eyes and his smile appeared permanently glued to his face.
England groaned, flexing her wings. "Hello, Albania," she said dryly. "I didn't think you would come."
"Why wouldn't I?" Albania laughed, passing by Turkey. The older nation scowled and snatched his wallet back from Albania.
"Brat," Turkey muttered and shoved his wallet back into his pocket.
Scotland exhaled a stream of smoke into Albania's face when the nation came too close for his liking.
"What was it you said last time we called?" England asked, tapping a finger on her chin. "Oh, right. 'Albania does as Albania wants'."
America watched the interaction with a bit of confusion. He had never met Albania personally before, having spent a lot of his time in his own house.
"What can I say?" Albania shrugged, his hand moving from America to his pocket. "I'm a wild stallion that can't be reined in." He suddenly found his arm caught in a vice-like grip. America smiled down at him with a dangerous look that mirrored a mafia.
"Give it back," the younger nation growled. His hand tightened and Albania could feel his bones nearly grating together.
"Uf. (Ow.)" Albania winced but returned America's cellphone to its owner.
Russia tapped his faucet pipe threateningly, glaring at Albania.
"I can't get a hold of either Poland or East," Germany said as he walked into the room. He froze at the sight of Albania. "You!"
"Uh oh." Albania ducked behind Canada. "I don't think he likes me very much."
"I don't get it." Canada looked over his shoulder. "What's so bad about him?"
"Ya might want ta get yer wallet back," Turkey commented. "Before he decides ta keep it forever."
"What?" Canada rounded on Albania. "Feel the wrath of the maple leaf!" He began to beat on Albania so hard Netherlands and Cuba had to drag him back.
"Give it back, Albania," Germany growled, storming up to the thieving nation. "And hands behind your back."
Albania, in the process of returning Canada's wallet, froze and stared at Germany in shock.
"Çfarë (What?)"
"Hands. Behind. Your. Back," Germany repeated, drawing a pair of handcuffs from his belt. "I don't trust you."
"Jo! (No!)" Albania dropped Canada's wallet and backed up quickly, his hands in the air. "Look, I gave it back. Nothing stolen nothing hurt, right?"
"I don't think so, amigo," Spain said from behind Albania with crossed arms. Andorra was dragged back to France's side when she tried to sneak to Turkey's side.
"I didn't do anything," Albania whined.
"You are a kleptomane, (kleptomaniac,) Albanie," France pointed out.
Albania's hands fell to his side and he stared at France in silence for several minutes.
"I didn't quite get that," he said. "Could you please repeat it?" He stuck his hands into his pockets.
"A kleptomane," France repeated. He sighed, tossing his hair over his shoulder. "A kleptomaniac. You like to steal things."
"Oh," Albania drew the word out. "I do not!"
"Give Scotland his cigarettes back," Norway ordered, perching herself on the arm of Korea's chair and glancing down at her husband. Korea spared her a glance before returning to the phone call he was trying to make.
"Ye did what!" A hand grabbed Albania by the scruff. Scotland lifted him into the air easily, smoke trailing from his mouth. "A should roast ye alive!"
No nation made a move to save Albania from the furious Dragon.
"Okay! Okay!" Albania held out Scotland's cigarettes. "Here, nothing stolen nothing hurt."
"A should still roast ye," Scotland growled. Albania could feel heat growing against the back of his neck.
"Put him down," Austria sighed. "We don't want to kill him then forget and lose count of those missing." Scotland grumbled and dropped Albania to the floor. A hand steadied the nation before he could fall over.
"Faleminderit. (Thanks.)" Albania darted for the door. "I'm out of here."
Vietnam watched him go with narrowed eyes. She drew her rice paddle and chased him.
"Give me my phone back!" she shrieked, whacking the other nation on the head with it.
"Uf!" Albania dropped the phone and fell to the floor clutching his head.
"Germany," Austria said in a commanding tone. "Search and restrain him."
"Çfarë?" Albania shouted and tried for the door again. "Why do you keep treating me like a criminal?"
Switzerland slammed the doors shut. "What else could you be?" he snapped.
His escape blocked, Albania found himself shoved up against a wall. Germany began to search through the other nation's pockets, dropping the occasional prize on the floor.
"Hey!" Albania reached back to slap Germany's hands away. "Stop that! Those are mine!"
Denmark leaned down and picked up the wallet. Opening it, he quirked an eyebrow.
"Bosnia and Herzegovina," he said. "This is yours?" He waved the wallet at Albania who flushed a dark red.
Romano grabbed another wallet. He opened it and instantly flushed. "This is Veneziano's!" he shouted. "How the hell did you get a hold of it, bastard?"
"Mut." Albania swallowed thickly. "I found it," he added nervously.
"Where?" Romano demanded as Germany handcuffed Albania. "Where is my sortella? Her bastard of a husband couldn't find her in that damn sea of his."
"I don't know." Albania tried to jerk away from Germany and failed. "I don't know anything, alright?"
"I bet he does." Netherlands crossed his arms and scowled. "Remember when he never told us anything during the wars?"
"Where is she?" Germany slammed Albania against the wall. "Where is Italy?"
"I don't know!" Albania shouted in the other nation's face.
"Where are the other missing nations?" Romania demanded.
"I don't know," Albania growled. "What are you? The police or something? Are you going to harass me until I speak?"
"He does know something!" Ukraine gasped. "He just said he does!"
"I do not!" Albania panicked and struggled out of Germany's grip. He managed to make it a few feet before he was tackled. "Mallkonte atë!"
"Scotland," Germany growled. "You and Netherlands take this one to another room. Get as much information from him as you can."
"Ma pleasure." Scotland grinned wickedly, fire dancing along his fingers.
"What?" Albania yelped when Netherlands dragged him up from the floor. "No!"
"Let me do it," a voice said. Nearly every nation turned to look at Vietnam in surprise.
"Po," Albania said with a grin. "Let the lady do it." Scotland, Germany, and Netherlands looked to each before they all smirked.
"Fine." Germany said as Netherlands pushed Albania toward Vietnam. "He's all yours."
"Is that such a good-?" America was hushed by several nations. He watched Vietnam worriedly from the corner of his eye.
"Shall we go?" Albania asked Vietnam teasingly.
"Vâng." Vietnam took Albania's arm and led him from the room. "Don't think I'm going to be sweet to you because I'm a lady, bastard."
The nations watched the pair leave before they were suddenly interrupted again.
"Bastard!" A young man punched Denmark in the stomach and grabbed the wallet from him. "That's mine!"
"Is he . . . like Albania?" America asked nervously.
"Thankfully, no," England said, fanning her wings slightly. "He's just a bit of a troublemaker and a drama queen."
"So he's like Poland then?" Canada asked. His remark sent Germany on a nervous spree once more.
"A bit," Spain said. "This is Bosnia and Herzegovina."
"But we all call him Bosnie," France added with a flourishing wave.
"I am not like Poland!" Bosnia stomped his foot and his voice jumped oddly high. "I'm nothing like that cross-dressing freak!" Russia hid his smile behind a hand. Ukraine sent her younger brother a worried look.
"YA dumala, on ona, (I thought he was a she,)" she said.
"Tak I yest', (She is,)" Russia said happily. America glanced between him and Bosnia before realization dawned on his face. Ukraine's face was a mask of shock at the news. She stared at Bosnia in disbelief.
"Ya look kind of girly," Turkey commented. Bosnia flushed brightly and the next thing Turkey knew he was hit in the center of his forehead by a stone. "Gah!" He fell backward out of his chair.
Korea dropped his cellphone into his lap and let his head fall into his hands. A muffled whimper escaped his mouth. Norway wrapped a comforting arm around her husband's shoulders.
Ireland stood and stretched his wings. "I'm going to check if there are any other nations on their way," he said.
"Be careful," Scotland said. "We don't need anyone else getting captured."
"Yeah, yeah." Ireland left the room, removing his sweatshirt as he did. Bosnia stared at Ireland, cocking his head and admiring the nation's toned stomach muscles. Several nations stared at him in shock.
"He better get back before dark," England grumbled, gathering her brother's fallen sweatshirt. She let a golden feather fall to the ground.
o)O(o
Poland moaned and opened her eyes, blinking to try and clear them in the bright light. She didn't really remember what happened after she had been caught. She had fallen asleep sometime during the car ride.
"Are you really awake?" a soft voice asked. A cool hand caressed Poland's cheek.
"Gah!" Poland tried to jerk away but her chin was caught in a painful grip.
"Ne," a firm voice said.
Poland stared up at Lietuva in horror. "You!" she cried.
"Taip, me," Lietuva said with a smirk. "I convinced Sverige to let you sleep in my room with me."
"Why?" Poland looked around the room. Her hands had been bound to the headboard of the bed. A pillow supported her arms so they would not be strained. Poland tugged at the restraints uselessly.
"You can try all you like." Lietuva sank onto the bed beside Poland. "But the United States made those. He's one of the best knot-tiers I know."
"Cholera," Poland muttered. She did her best to scoot away Lietuva but the doppelganger stopped her with a hand on her waist.
"Don't you like me, Po?" he whispered in her ear.
"Nie," Poland said coldly. "I, like, don't even know you."
"You could." Lietuva moved so he hovered over Poland. His lips were mere inches from hers. "I think you'd love me."
"Go to Hell," Poland hissed back.
"You're not being very nice," Lietuva commented. His fingers traced circled at Poland's waist. "Perhaps I could change that."
"Co?" Poland's eyes widened. "Nie!"
"Taip." Lietuva smirked and kissed Poland gently on the lips. "I love you, Po. And I know you do to."
Poland made a face and spat off to the side. "Like hell I do."
"Let me change your mind," Lietuva said, moving to straddle Poland. "What do you have to lose?"
"Nie!" Poland screeched, writhing under Lietuva.
"Enough." Lietuva grabbed a fistful of Poland's hair and forced her to remain still. "You can't stop this," he snapped. "And I know you don't want to,"
"Get off me," Poland said through the gritted teeth. "Before I, like, make you wish you had."
Lietuva smirked and kissed Poland on the cheek. "Don't worry, Po," he whispered in her ear. "When I'm done, you'll be thinking a completely different way."
o)O(o
The mountain range of Tatras rushed under Ireland with each pump of his golden wings. Coasting on the thermals, he flew high enough in the air there was no possible way he could be seen by humans. Ireland watched the scenery with a bit of admiration. He was used to seeing a lot of green at his house. Slovakia's land was a nice change. Not to mention he could get away from his nagging siblings.
A sudden throb in Ireland's wing made him wince.
"Deabhal," Ireland cursed. Banking to the left, he lowered down to a cliff. Once he had landed he stretched his wing to try and get rid of the knot. "I should have stretched better," he muttered to himself.
Cold metal suddenly jammed against Ireland's back. "Moi," a cold voice said. It cause Ireland to freeze up, his wings fluttering in surprise.
"Finland?" He asked, looking over his shoulder. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Finland?" The young man blinked his dark eyes. "Who is Finland?" He asked.
"This isn't funny, Finland." Ireland scowled and turned to face the other nation. "What's with yo-?" His eyes widened in realization. "Hold it. You're not Finland!"
"Ei." The man grinned. "I am Suomi."
Ireland stepped back a pace, his heel rocking on the edge of the cliff. "Suomi," he repeated slowly. "What are you? Some sort of doppelganger?"
"You could say that." Suomi raised his rifle at Ireland once more. "Step away from the cliff," he ordered.
"Why?" Ireland aligned both his heels on the edge of the cliff and flexed his wings. "So you shoot me and I won't fall?"
"I'm not going to shoot you." Suomi rolled his eyes. "At this distance I'd probably miss you."
"All the more reason," Ireland said. And he launched himself over the edge of the cliff, fanning his wings to catch himself.
Suomi lowered his rifle and frowned. "He's coming down to you guys," he said, pressing a button on his earpiece. "Omnea. (Good luck.)"
Ireland landed hard on the ground, wincing when his knees were jarred.
'I have to get back,' he thought. 'I have to warn the others.' He stood and drew his wings taut against his back.
"Konnichiwa," a voice said from behind Ireland.
"Gah!" Ireland whirled around in surprise and in the process tripped over a stone, falling to the ground in a heap. "Japan?" Ireland asked weakly, almost hopefully.
"Nihon," the doppelganger corrected him. He stood before Ireland, his arms crossed.
Ireland mouthed the word, his eyes widening. "Y-You're all doppelgangers," he finally said. "Japan's trying to call her older brother."
"That's right, Yankee!" A young woman strode to Nihon's side and planted her hands on her hips. She sent Ireland a rather terrifying smirk.
"Confederacy," Nihon sighed. "Not everyone is a Yankee."
"Shut it, Yank," Confederacy snapped before turning a sweet smile on Ireland. "Hey there, Honey. You want to go for a spin?"
Ireland couldn't help but stare at Confederacy in fear. Something about being in her presence downright terrified her.
"Aw, look at the little thin'," Confederacy cooed. "He thinks I'm so purty he can't say a word."
"Not everyone thinks you're pretty." Nihon rolled his eyes and seized Ireland's wing in a tight grip. "Come on, get up." Ireland winced and staggered to his feet. He yelped when Confederacy 'accidentally' knocks his feet out from under him, his wings being jerked in the process.
"Confederacy." Nihon whirled around to glare at the young woman, dragging Ireland back to his feet. "Knock that off this instant!"
"I didn't do dnothin'." Confederacy leans forward, her lips an inch from Nihon's. "He's just head over heels in love with me, Honey."
"Am not!" Ireland bit out. He yelped again when Confederacy's fist collided with the side of his head, sending him back to the ground.
"No one asked you," Confederacy snarled.
"When speaking of one's love life." Nihon dragged Ireland up once more. "I believe you may want to take into account your lover's interest as well."
"Then I'll ask him," Confederacy said sweetly. She turned and grabbed Ireland's chin in her hand. Manicured, almost claw-like, nails dug into his jawline. "Do you like me, Honey?"
Ireland whimpered. A hand flew to stop Confederacy but she caught it with her free hand and dug her nails in.
"I asked you a question," Confederacy growled. She dug her nails into Ireland's jaw, drawing drops of blood.
"Sea!" Ireland shouted desperately. "Sea, I like you!"
"And there you have it." Confederacy gave Ireland's jaw one more dangerous squeeze before releasing him. She turned to Nihon. "He likes me."
Nihon brought his fist back and slammed it into Confederacy's forehead.
"He does not."
"Dammit, Yank!" Confederacy clutched her forehead. "I'm goni' to feed you to the sharks if you do that again!"
Ireland dabbed at his chin, wincing when he felt slight pain.
Nihon suddenly slapped Confederacy's neck. The female doppelganger leapt forward nearly two feet with a yelp.
"I told you not to do that!" she snapped over her shoulder. Nihon stepped out of her way, striking Confederacy on the back.
"Do what?" he asked innocently.
Confederacy hit the ground with an 'oof'. She turned to glare at Nihon before her eyes fell on Ireland and she smirked.
"Honey," she said sweetly. "You know how I love to let people know how much pain I suffered in my little war." Her eyes flicked to Ireland once more and the nation stiffened when pain surged through his body. It felt like thousands of jolts of electricity tingling through his bones. Nihon frowned and, marching forward, slapped Confederacy across the face. Ireland fell back with a yelp.
"Knock it off!" Nihon snapped.
"You want to do that again, Honey?" Confederacy asked dangerously. "I didn't feel a thin'."
Nihon reached down and wrapped a hand around Confederacy's throat. "How about now?" he asked, squeezing until Confederacy struggled to breathe. The female doppelganger could fee her windpipe collapsing under the pressure.
"Alright," Confederacy wheezed. "Secede!"
Ireland gasped, his forehead resting in the dirt. His skin still tingled with an electric feeling and his legs felt like jelly. If these two doppelgangers kept this up, he couldn't see any hopes of escape.
"Please tell me you didn't start your stupid fight again." Both doppelgangers jumped at the voice.
"Aw, if it isn't Little Suomi," Confederacy drawled. "Did you come back just for me?"
Suomi scowled and raised his rifle at Confederacy. "I can see why you always want to kill her," he commented.
"Put that down and stop the ankle biter from escapin'," Confederacy snapped, pointing at Ireland who had been using the new distraction to try and escape.
Suomi stepped on the nation's wing to pin him in place. "Maybe you should have been watching him," he said. "Instead of trying to kill each other."
"She started it!" Nihon pointed accusingly at Confederacy.
"I don't think so, Honey," Confederacy said as she marched toward Ireland. "Do you remember what happened to the last idiot who pointed fingers at me?" She grabbed one of Ireland's wings, planting a heeled boot on his shoulder blade.
Ireland stiffened, his eyes widening. If she jerked at just the right angle he wouldn't be flying any time soon.
Suomi glared at Nihon and slammed the butt of his gun into Confederacy's head. "Let him go before I shoot you." Confedercay fell to the ground with a yelp. She propped herself up on her elbows at glared at the male doppelgangers.
"Ya'll aren't very gentlemanly," she said dryly.
"I could care less." Suomi shifted, placing weight on his foot pinning Ireland down. "Just shut up and look pretty."
"Hey!" Confederacy shouted angrily. "I ain't nobody's trophy wife! I thought that moron Türkiye already learned that!"
"Could you please just start killing each other?" Ireland begged. "I'm getting sick of listening to you fight."
Suomi's glare moved down to the nation and he slammed him in the head with the butt of his rifle.
"Shut up, all of you!"
Confederacy's jaw snapped just with an audible click and Ireland groaned, holding his head.
Suomi stepped off Ireland's wing and dragged him up. "Let's get back before he spends too much time away from home." Ireland tried to jerk his arm out of Suomi's grip but it was useless.
"I ain't drivin'," Confederacy said, tossing the keys to Nihon. "I want to sit with the purty bird."
Nihon groaned and rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he said. "Just shut up."
"I would if I could," Confederacy sang. She brushed a dangerous nail along Ireland's jawline as he pranced past him. "I think I'm goni' to keep him."
"No you're not," Suomi said promptly as they reached the car. "He's going down to the cells with the others. You'll only kill him."
"Honey." Confederacy whirled around and Suomi found a gun jammed into his Adam's apple. "If I want to play with the birdie until I kill him, then that's what I'm goin' to do."
"We shall see." Suomi quirked an eyebrow and casually moved the gun aside with his rifle. "You can ask Sverige when we get back."
"Don't worry," Confederacy purred. "I will."
Ireland tried one last time to jerk away from Suomi. The doppelganger just sighed and opened the car door, shoving Ireland in.
"Onnea," he said.
"He'll let me, don't you worry your purty little brain." Confederacy slid into the backseat with Ireland who tried to scoot away from her.
"Sure he will." Nihon climbed into the driver's seat. "And if he does, then it means he lost part of his brain."
Confederacy chuckled, slapping Ireland's hand away from the door handle.
"Honey, do that again and you won't have hands."
"That's it!" Suomi whirled around to glare at Confederacy. "He is not going to your room!"
A/N: What did you think?
Albania's an interesting one. He's so much fun! I like him! You were really mean with your doppelgangers today. Yeah? Well guess what? I still have homework to do that I don't understand. So leave me be! Fine! Roar.
Albania: What the Hell, Let it Rock, Bad to the Bone
Bosnia and Herzegovina: Demons
China: Lean on Me
. . . My dorm room smells like dirt.