"Now, Kitty, let's consider who it was that dreamed it all."


"Well now you dragged me all the way to France, now to mention ruined my day even more, I'm leaving," Romano informed them. He didn't want to spend anymore time in France than necessary and he already spent way too much time as it was. The trip had made him curious; he had to admit, as to why he didn't know about Sabier. He was older than America and didn't live in another continent. He lived closer to France than Lithuania, yet the nervous, small nation knew more than him. How did he know?

"Aren't you going to stick around to find out about Sabier though?" America asked.

"I didn't even want to come here in the first place, let alone follow you around on a silly adventure, jack ass," Romano retorted. The thought of coming with them did pass his mind. There was something about Sabier, that very word, which made him feel empty inside. It was as if a part of him was stuck on Sabier.

"But I'm sure you're curious, aren't you?" America asked.

Romano was but to admit that to this idiot wouldn't happen, at least not now. "Are you not listening to me, damn it! I. Do. Not. Want. To. Come." He articulated each word hard and slowly, making his words clear for the thick headed American. He crossed his arms and added angrily, "Besides, you don't even know where the hell you're going."

"I know where I'm going!" Alfred replied quickly.

"Oh, then where are you going now?" Romano inquired as he raised an eyebrow in interest. Where ever America was planning to go, he would plan to avoid. It was likely Romano didn't want to be where America was going to be at anyway. He decided to go to the dumbest of places. He felt sorry for America's chaperon who was already a nervous wreck as it was.

"Switzerland," America said after a moment of thought. He added a confident nod as if to assure them that he had planned that all along. Of course, that wasn't the case. He had just come up with going to Switzerland. After the random nation that popped up into his head was Switzerland, he reasoned that the man would have documents or records of Sabier and the tragedy. He was known for banks so he had to be organized, not to mention he was part of that Germanic part of Europe.

"Is that so? Well, good luck getting yourself killed bastard," Romano snapped before his departure.

"D-do you really w-want to go see him next?" Lithuania asked. The idea was worse than talking to France. The chance they were going to get killed was much higher and Switzerland was one of the few nations that would kill them. Poor Toris wasn't sure if America knew that or not. The thought process frightened Lithuania sometimes.

"Of course! A hero doesn't go back on his word. Vash is sure to know what happened anyway or have some records I bet," America announced as he too got to his feet. "So let's go pal!"

"A-alright," Lithuania hesitantly replied. He was reluctant to follow America on this trip but in was inevitable now.

"Hey! Vash, dude, are you here?" America shouted. His voice echoed through the long corridor. He listened to his voice bounce from wall to wall and gets caught in small rooms behind empty counters. The entrance hall had six doors – three chestnut doors on either side – and five small black counters on the left when they entered. There was no one behind the counters. America had expected to find employees waiting, bored, for a costumer. There was no one. Nobody even appeared to be in the building beside the two.

"I…I don't know if he's here. D-didn't she say he was busy?" Lithuania said. He stood in the entrance way, still holding the door open as America inspected the bank, or what they had thought was a bank. Now, it didn't look like a bank at all.

"What's this?" the American mumbled to himself as he looked behind the first counter. Behind it, he met the blood stained face of his teenage self. He stared at the haunting blue colors of his confederate years. The cross and stars resembled not the heroic version of himself that he stood for now but the unstable nation, young and crazy. The vivid colors of the flag hanging in the background and the echoing noise of the metallic chains in the background consumed his thoughts.

"You call it 'justice' by forcing change? I sure hope you ready to die for it North. Your sinful Union is nothing but kids running around with high-tech sticks. Wouldn't it just be easier if you left me alone and you went on with your 'free' nation?" his Confederate counterpart inquired, moving closer to Alfred.

"Mr. America!" Lithuania shouted as he yanked his friend away. Lithuania was pale and his limps looked like jello held up by sticks. He was shaken just as much as America was yet he held America's shoulder firmly.

"What happened?"

"T-the mirror," Toris replied shakily. "It…it could c-consume you. I've heard they l-lure people in with the past so they are to f-forever repeat it. It…It traps people though. P-please, be careful," Lithuania replied. He swallowed hard as he stepped away.

"This p-place is spooky. It could be in a horror movie," America commented.

"We should-"

Lithuania dove to the ground, pulling America with him as a bullet flew past their heads. A silhouette of a man stood outside of an open door, a gun in hand. The two scrambled out of the way of the next bullet. The man was mad from what America got. He shot several times without considering or asking who was there.

"Hey, what's your problem?" America shouted, trying not to settle with "mad" as the explanation. Maybe he wasn't mad, just trigger happy or very violent.

"Keep your head down," Lithuania desperately demanded as he held his friend to the floor one more. It either got up, their chances were slim. He was looking for an exit route as bullets flew over head. America was making it very difficult though. He constantly got up to shout unnecessary nonsense. The break of bullets was well welcomed.

"I think he ran out of bullets," America stated simply as he was allowed to slowly stand up.

"T-that's good," Lithuania said. He too got to his feet but his feet were shaking and he barely managed to. From his observation, their opponent was nowhere in sight. Not a good sign. He would rather have a known enemy than one that he could not see. It was much more dangerous…

"L-let go! I can't breathe!" America cried out. Toris swirled around to find his friend in a head lock. The silhouette or rather Vash was half in the mirror and half out. He held his grip around Alfred tightly, a gun in his free hand. The look in the Swiss man's eyes was blank though. He did not have the intent to murder Alfred like Toris expected. He rubbed his eyes, widening them even more when he opened them again.

"F-Feliks?"

"Was machst du hier? Sie sollten nicht hier sein!" the figure holding Alfred against the glass growled. Lithuania blinked. No, Feliks didn't speak German. The figure emerged Swiss once again.

"We came to ask you about Sabier!" America choked.

Toris couldn't take a step closer. His eyes stood fixed on the figure. Again, he found Swiss turn to Polish. The blond haired foe had changed to his long time friend. Was it Feliks or Vash? He held the gun but it quivered in his grasp.

"Are you like on that fat Russian's side or something? Like, go ahead and shoot Liet. You're totally a good shot so I know you won't miss. I thought we would be like BFFs though.

Lithuania stumbled backward at the Pole's words. He dropped his gun, getting further away from America. "N-no," he mumbled. "Y-you know, I w-wouldn't. Aš negaliu."

"Toris! Snap out of it!" America cried out as his body was pressed even more into the mirror. Now, the mirror started to feel less solid. It was like he was being dragged a body of water rather than a mirror.

Lithuania pressed himself against the wall. America or Poland: those were his choices. He shook his head. He could not kill either. He could not allow his friend to be dragged into a place that was one step better than the Abyss. The bloody image of Poland petrified him. He looked the same as when he was beaten up by Russia and Germany but such a dark, sadistic smile haunted his features. "P-please stop! Poland!"

"You shouldn't have-" "—like came-" "come," a voice said from behind. The voice shifted from Polish to Swiss just within one sentence. Both voices, that of Poland and that of Switzerland, clashed making a repulsive echoing voice throughout the bank-like building. "I'm like only going to show him what he wanted." Toris swallowed hard as he felt arms around his waist and a head rest just a few inched above his shoulder. His waist was slowly pulled backward as he found that behind him was not a wall but yet another mirror. America had long disappeared into the mirror across from him. Now, Switzerland stepped out of the same mirror and watched Toris slip into the mirror carefully. He reloaded the gun before resting it on the counter that held a small yellow haired doll.

"No one should have come here but her…"


And you found my Cheshire character. This chapter was actually written before the previous chapter. I felt more inspired to reveal Switzerland's part in the story than trying to figure out how to get to France and have him interact. I'm caught up on typing up the story though, so the next chapter will be a bit longer. I hope everyone can continue to comment and review this. I apologize if you found the mistakes in my writing. It's hot off the press and I will attempt to edit it shortly. If you want to put your two cents in or ask questions as well, feel free. I have much more of this story to tell. Thanks everyone!