Norway hesitantly placed the tape into the player on his television, dreading the numerous sights that could greet him when the video played. Jeff was standing in the corner and Jones was next to Norway. They had told Norway what they had found on the case, but were going to withhold the information from Iceland for a little longer. The younger nation was becoming sick from worry without that knowledge, though he acted as though he was hiding it from everyone. Norway informed the officers that Iceland had retreated to a similar behavior as when he had been a toddler. When Iceland left the room, Norway would follow, and, as he told them, he did not protest Norway's comforting and soothing like he normally would at this stage in his life. Iceland was in the lavatory, most likely throwing up his lunch and trying to clean himself up to look like nothing had happened, so Norway decided to play the tape he had found at this moment. Jeff was guarding the hallway, making sure that Iceland wouldn't get in before they finished the tape.

.Norway hit the PLAY button.

Denmark, beaten up a little bit, but otherwise well, was tied to a chair and gagged. Norway lurched towards the screen, but Jones caught him and held Norway back. That was only a moment before a whip came out of nowhere and lashed at Denmark's skin over and over. Jones couldn't hold Norway any longer and Norway fell to his knees, staring at the screen as blood and flesh flew from Denmark. Due to being a personification, his wounds began healing immediately. But new wounds were opened as soon as an old one began to heal. Norway's hands clenched the fabric of his shirt, which was the only physical showing of emotion Norway portrayed. Norway stood up after fifteen minutes, stopped the recording and walked towards the door. As Norway began roughly pulling on his jacket, Jones ran up to him and threw himself across the door before Norway could reach it.

"Where are you going?"

Norway laughed a bit, in a dangerously slow way. "I'm going to teach those sons of bi-"

Jones slapped Norway with enough force to knock him away from the door. "You're not going anywhere near that area until it's safe! How do you think Iceland would react if you went missing too? Let the police handle it, Mr. Norway."

Norway glared at Jones for a long time, barely blinking. Jones, however, stared right back.

"Fine. I won't leave," he paused for a moment before continuing, "as long as I may still contribute, and you keep me informed."

Jones sighed and nodded. "Of course. You don't even need to ask yourself that, Nor-"

"Nor, what's going on? Where are you going?" Iceland, at the top of the stairs, was watching the scene with frightful, wide eyes. "What did Jones mean by all that?"

"Iceland, were you eavesdropping?" Norway was hanging his coat up again and climbing the stairs so it was easier to talk to Iceland.

"I heard that commotion and someone being hit... I thought you'd snapped and told them to get out of the house, so I came running out to apologize for anything you did, but," Iceland's eyes flicked in Jones's direction as he paused. "It looks like it was the other way around. What happened?"

Norway bit his lip. "I tried to go out for a walk alone, but Jones was holding me back, saying I couldn't go without one of our kind escorts. I, as much as I hate to admit it, tripped on one of the stairs as I was going up and fell. Everything's fine, Iceland."

Despite Norway's quick-witted cover, Iceland was not convinced.

"What's on the television?" Iceland asked, looking at the solid blue screen with STOP written across the top left corner. Norway quickly blocked Iceland from going into the room with the television with his body.

"Old home videos." Iceland still was not convinced, but Norway did not move. Norway sighed, and after calling Jeff and Jones over, they explained what was really going on. Norway retrieved a bucket for Iceland while Jeff and Jones talked, but once he stood next to Iceland again, his younger brother wrapped his hand around Norway's arm in a childish way of trying to hide behind his elder brother.

"Is that what's on the screen?" Iceland whispered, twitching his head in the television's direction. Jones bit his lip and Jeff sighed, responding by a simple nod. Iceland clamped his hands over his mouth and Norway stroked his back in a soothing fashion. In Jones' eyes, it reminded him of the way his mother would always soothe him when he was scared or upset.

"I think it's better if you don't watch that," Norway whispered, and Iceland nodded slowly. As Iceland's face flushed Norway pulled the bucket towards him. Norway sighed and ran his hand through his hair before standing up. "Anyone else hungry? I can make lefse wraps if someone wants one." Jeff and Jones nodded, and though Iceland didn't say anything Norway knew he needed food. Norway came out shortly after with a plate neatly stacked with lefse wraps, four with meat and three without, for he knew that Jeff was a vegetarian. Iceland ate half of one before excusing himself. Norway excused himself as well and followed Iceland to the restroom.

"Why them?"

Jones jumped at the sudden question. "What?"

"For such a nice family, why did something like this have to happen to them?" Jeff's eyes were darkened, his elbows resting on his knees as his head hung. "I've mentioned once around Norway that I was a vegetarian, and he picked it up immediately to better accommodate me. He's done nothing but accept us into his home and make sure we're comfortable."

"That may be so, but they live and have lived lives we couldn't even begin to dream of. We barely know anything about them," Jones reached out to touch Jeff's shoulder gently, sighing.

Jeff's saddened eyes seemed to penetrate Jones'. "What we do know of them is good, and that's as much as we can say for their personality. Either way, no one deserves to have this happen, especially kind people like them."

Jones took a deep breath before speaking, "I sent a copy of the tape sent to the station and had someone at the station view the film. The man Norway identified as Denmark sustained over one hundred and fifty blows. That's far more than humanly possible... It truly blows my mind. The people whipping him continued until Denmark's skin wasn't regenerating quick enough, which signaled that he was beginning to lose a grip of his immortality at roughly the one hundred and ninety second blow."

Jeff whistled, impressed. "Norway wasn't kidding," he said, his voice quiet. "They really do have long, painful lives."

"One can only imagine a life like that," Jeff said in agreement. "I don't think I would be able to stand it."

"You get used to it after a while." Norway, who neither of them had noticed before, was standing in the hallway. Jeff and Jones suddenly felt extremely embarrassed and flustered, having been caught talking about Norway behind his back. "There are the benefits, but..." Norway paused and leaned against the wall, "the position certainly reminds you of how cruel the world is. We forget that sometimes, I think."

The room was silent as Norway's words settled in the air. He approached, continuing to stand. "Would anyone like some tea? It's getting awfully late, and we should rest soon."

Jeff and Jones nodded, and soon chamomile tea was set out in front of them, cooled to the perfect drinking temperature. As they drank the tea, Jones saw an instrument case in the corner of the room. "Do any of you play?" He asked, nodding towards the case.

Norway nodded yes and said simply, "I play violin." He took a sip of tea before expanding the thought. "Most of us have learnt how to play an instrument in our spare time, when we weren't at war or attending meetings. Then again, I mostly fiddle." He set down his cup and stood up, walking over to the instrument case. Bending his legs to unlatch the bindings he opened the case to show a dark-wooded violin. It had curved markings across the front and back of the instrument. He carried it back to the police officers, running the bow along a chunk of rosin.

"I made it... Took me a while to get the rosemaling right, but I think it turned out nicely."

Jones's jaw dropped slightly, staring at the wooden instrument. "Y-you made that," he said, looking straight into Norway's eyes.

Norway nodded, suddenly seeming embarrassed. "I had a lot of free time."

Jones smiled, examining the violin carefully. "It's beautiful, Norway," he said, and Norway actually blushed slightly, but he could not tell whether it was from embarrassment or praise. "It doesn't look like a normal violin, though."

"Oh, um, this's a Hardanger Fiddle. It's meant to have six strings instead of four, good for the fiddling from... my country."

Jones clapped his hands together once and his eyes brightened. "Could you play something for us?"

Norway shrugged, "I've got it out anyway, might as well play something." And with that, he placed the instrument under his chin and on his shoulder and began playing. It was a fun and short folk tune, and his foot tapped out a strong beat as he played. Norway's fingers jumped around the fingerboard as the bow went back and forth in syncopated rhythms, but it was soon over.

Jeff and Jones were quite stunned at Norway's talent, and yet at the same time they were not surprised at all. They clapped slowly at first but soon were clapping like mad, for they had enjoyed Norway's playing very much.

"For my son's birthday you should come play a song like that for him. He adores fiddling and classical music, bless him."

"I shall," Norway said in agreement. "Let me know when it is and I'll plan to be there." Norway began putting the fiddle away, loosening the bow and making sure the rosin was back in the case before shutting the instrument case and snapping the buckles together. He looked at the time and rubbed his neck. "I think it's about time I retire to my bedroom for the night." With that Jeff and Jones wished him a nice night and went to bed themselves.