8: Tainted Ally
"You can't trust people, but you can always trust nature." - Dr. Ili Gidov (Bulgarian Writer and Scholar, 1968)
Rain drops pounded against the window sill repeatedly in staccato rhythm. It was a grey, drizzly morning and Hungary was looking outside the window, her hands hugging her torso. She was in a beautiful silk white dress of lace and beads, her hair wrapped tightly on her head in a flattering bun with curls. An edelweiss flower, freshly picked from Austria's garden was pinned to her hair like a tiara would on a princess.
"What am I doing here," she said, fire and discomfort glazed her words. She intended them for the little young boy, cloaked in a ghostly white tunic of a Teutonic Knight. "This is why I'd prefer not sleeping so deeply."
On the other side of the window, little Gilbert gleamed brightly, ignoring her sour attitude. He floated closer to the pane and as he did, walls appeared around the window frame, and once more Hungary was in the familiar mansion. In a dream once again. Why?
"Not a dream, Liz!" nagged the child. He was listening to every thought in her mind. This is another dream so of course he's in my head, thought Hungary, face-palming. Couldn't she just sleep in peace? Was this a memory within a dream? It's annoying.
"Well, sorry to bother you, right now," puffed Gilbert, "but I think there is something you should know!" The little boy stepped aside to reveal the downpour and the garden.
It was raining and she felt foolish staring at nothing but the rippling puddles and watered plants. All of a sudden a stout man wearing a bowler hat strode across the pebbled stones, a black umbrella in one hand and a briefcase in the other. He was in a hurry to leave, his pointy shoes enduring the heavy rain.
"I assure you it will be safe, doctor!" cried a familiar voice racing towards him. The voice called the stout man – apparently the doctor – to stop, but he did not slow a single step.
Hungary's eyes darted to the voice he was afraid of. She gaped at the sight of Austria; drenched in the rain, hair and coat soaking wet, his glasses dripping with water.
"I just need more time," Austria sputtered, quickly stopping the doctor by the shoulder, "If you may!"
The doctor made no further resistance, grumbling under his graying mustache, he said, "M' sorry, Edelstein, but – can't work with you any longer! This' gone – far enough! – wish to resign from such project, now allow me – take my leave!" The doctor's voice turned raspy. At that instant he was cut off by a hacking noise deep beneath his throat, and then he excused himself to cough.
Austria stood before him; he did not step aside nor move away from the shuddering doctor, umbrella waved at his face.
The doctor steadied. Though his throat was clogged, he still struggled to speak. "Edelstein, whatever you did –whatever you're doin'–will not solve – 'nything! There should be – a report on you –'m calling the police force –" he hacked, another fit of coughs plagued his sentences. He searched for a handkerchief in his pockets, but his hands faltered, dropping the umbrella.
Rain washed away blood and colour. His face paled from seeing his own blood adorning his hands like finger paint, slowly dripping to the pavement below. Knees giving out, he dropped his suitcase to cover his mouth. Austria remained standing, watching the man sadistically.
"I wonder if you know I am the authority figure around here," said the Nation-being.
The doctor tried getting up. "I –report you –soon as –leave this country!"
His words were curdled with the fluids in his throat. Hungary could see his chest heaving for air. He turned away from the Austrian and crawled for the garden gate, but he halted.
"No –" The doctor clutched his stomach and made a horrifying, bubbling noise. He curled.
Austria remained standing. Watching. Not minding the rain…
"M' children –at home –" the doctor coughed, holding his stomach with both hands now. A waterfall of blood ran out of his mouth as he turned to Austria who was just staring straight at him with a look of pure apathy.
The doctor collapsed to the ground. "Save them – at least –" He gurgled one more time before the rain drowned the blood and the words.
Austria stood in front him, frozen in time. Clearing his throat, he raised a hand and motioned for servants to clear away the body.
Hungary did not expect to see a couple of men instantly appearing out of nowhere wearing blood-stained, white aprons. They looked like butchers from a slaughterhouse, and it seemed like they were prepared for this. Oh Austria, she shuddered, what have you done?
The Austrian stonily walked over to the doctor's lifeless body; the mouth oozed with blood so red and thick. His servants quickly dragged it away to the back of the mansion, and Austria lingered by the dead man's suitcase and umbrella.
The rain pelted against his shoulders, and yet he didn't care. Not wiping his glasses, he adjusted them and picked up the umbrella to shut it closed. His eyes fell on the doctor's suitcase and hesitantly he opened it. Inside were two rectangular boxes.
"So he was trying to steal these." He opened each box and found a syringe in both. Its contents glow was a familiar luminescent blue-green.
"Either he wanted to report these to the authorities, or use these for his own sake." Austria sighed. "Unfortunately, he was heading for two dead ends." The Nation stood up, suitcase in hand and umbrella hanging on one arm. "I am the authority and…
"The Immunity only works on our kind, not on normal beings."
Hungary gasped – then suddenly she heard a knock on the door. She wheeled around and sighted Austria smiling at her with clean, swept-back hair, dressed in his dark-blue suit. His handsome, indigo eyes greeted her with gladness. He did not look like he came from the heavy rain outside. If he did, it would have been impossible to dry off in a split second.
Confused, Hungary glanced back at the window, only to find it burning brightly with sunlight. The little Gilbert phased through the wall happily, his countenance glowing with delight. Hungary noticed her dress changed to her military uniform in a mere blink. She assumed this was a memory change.
"Well," sighed little Gilbert, his bare feet touched the ground next to her. "The first part was seriously not a memory. This is like last time, how I awesomely showed you stupid Austria talking to himself, you know? This one, right now, is a memory."
Before Hungary could acknowledge the Prussian, she was suddenly pulled into the memory in a heartbeat, unable to interact with the ghostly boy. Embracing Austria they left the mansion and entered the driveway. She felt like a slave forced into the past.
Waiting on the driveway was a black limousine. Gilbert faintly appeared sitting on the hood with a faint smile. "It's been two weeks after Austria's frickin' crime!"
Hungary tried to look at him, but the forces of the dream prevented her from turning her head. She was doing what she did in the moment – everything felt like a rewind and a repeat, with her as the puppet being steered along.
Austria opened the door for her to get in the limo. Inside she was greeted with familiar faces that almost blurred her vision to tears. The limo seated Italy, Spain, Romano, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Poland, France, Britain, America, Canada, Germany and Prussia – the little ghostly Gilbert appearing beside him obviously. Everyone looked like they were heading to an exciting affair and Hungary could only act under the will of the dream.
"Helló mindenki!" she smiled, caught up in the moment. "Jó reggelt!" Deep inside she wanted to weep; the memory was just too much to bear. Why was the ghost showing her this? Why was she forced to be reminded of this? The memory tugged at her heartstrings.
Hungary seated herself beside Poland, across Prussia and Germany.
"Like, good morning too, Lizzy! So glad to see you!" greeted Poland, hugging her. "We should totally catch up, like, after this! Seriously, my preparations have been, like, taking up so much of my schedule!" Meanwhile, Italy sprang up to welcome her, almost bumping his head against the limo's roof.
"Good morning, Miss Hungary!" he grinned, hazel eyes sparkling with gladness. "Guess who's serving pasta for everybody at the buffet today, ve?"
"And like, I'm serving pierogi!" added Poland.
"Guys, you're making me hungry!" America laughed.
Germany snorted. "Settle down, the limo's starting to leave."
Austria settled beside Hungary and shut the door. "Japan, China and Russia are in the other limos. They're traveling with their families."
"They might be arriving late," Germany informed.
As the limo eased out of the driveway, America hollered, "Who wants to PARTEY?" The Nation held up two bottles of wine.
Beside him, France gingerly took out two silver trays from one of the compartments. Canada helped him fill each tray with wine glasses.
America had the pleasure of pouring each glass with the blood-red drink. "Ahahaha! Cranberry juice!"
"Well, I provided the wine myself, mes amis," said France, "and these are the finest of the – Hey! Don't pour them so unevenly, silly American!"
"Dude, I can't help it, the limo's shaking!"
"Why serve those now, anyway?" Britain questioned with an eye roll.
France and America almost replied at the same time.
"For a Wine Paartehey!"
"You're just a jealous Englishman, ohoho!"
Britain sighed, taking a glass from the silver trays Canada passed around. "Just, try not to spill it all over yourselves," he noted, taking a sip.
When the tray of drinks circled around the Nations, Hungary could not help but notice each and every one's expression. Switzerland reluctantly took one, and Liechtenstein accepted one as well, surprising him; Poland stole his share; Spain served one for a grouchy Romano and one for himself; Italy could not resist but take two for him and the German saying, "Ve! I got this one for you, Germany!" and with that, Germany attempted to smile; Austria mannerly offered her a glass before taking his own; Prussia raised a glass to Hungary, thinking she was looking at him – she was actually staring at the Gilbert ghost sitting on his lap. Stupid Prueßen, she thought, glancing away from both Prussians.
"Three cheers, guys!" America announced, holding up his wine. "I give toast first!"
"This better be awesome," Prussia muttered.
"Well, we have some time until we get there," said Germany.
"We have half an hour actually. So make it short," Britain suggested – he quietly asked Canada for more wine after he finished his first.
America checked his watch and raised it to everyone's attention. "We have a whole hour, Brit-aiin! I, the hero, shall now speak!"
"Just hurry up!" Britain rushed, his glass already half-empty after the re-fill.
America raised his glass and said, "TO US!"
Everyone cheered lightheartedly –Britain grumbled in the background saying, "That was it?!"
With little to resist, Hungary raised her glass as well; deep inside, she could feel her hand shaking and her nerves pulsing to embrace all of her friends. She wanted to slap the Gilbert ghost for putting her in this.
"Shuuush, my awesome self is about to give a toast!" she heard the boy say, morphing his own little ghostly glass.
"To me and everyone else," Prussia interjected. "STAY AWESOME!"
Poland chuckled, after taking a drink. "Like, I never knew you totally cared!"
"We all care because we're all amigos!" Spain proclaimed. "Vivimos juntos y morimos juntos!"
At this, Romano complained. "That's not to be brought up, tomato-bastard!"
"What? It's true, we live together and we –"
America laughed awkwardly. "Dude, don't bring up that 'D' word now! That's for later!"
When the limo halted under a traffic light, everyone finished their drinks except Hungary. She remembered she had worried about her preparations during the ride to the grand building. Right now, she was worried yet again, but this time with more to think about.
The Nations conversed among themselves as America started the music. Poland, beside her, was proclaiming to Canada about an epic party. To her left, Germany was chatting to Italy about containing his annoying behaviours. Meanwhile she had no one to bother her except the Austrian who she really did not want to talk to.
Luckily, Austria had excused himself and sat by America and Britain, apparently to discuss the Grand Meeting's ceremony. She noticed him fingering his side pocket and she immediately knew that the Immunity syringe was inside. This was before he'd revealed his selfish secret to her.
She found the little Gilbert dumbly fiddling with Prussia's hair, as if the Nation was going to look at him while he was clearly preoccupied with France, Spain and Romano. For a second, she wondered if Prussia could actually feel the little boy's cold, freezing touch, but it must not be so, since this was entirely her dream – unfortunately controlled by the ghostly child in some areas.
Switzerland awkwardly wandered over to her side. "Lili wanted me to ask you, to gather your 'girl friends' later," he said. He sounded uncomfortable mentioning 'girl friends'.
Hungary smiled; she noticed Liechtenstein waving at her, a seat-belt around her waist.
"I will find our friends once we arrive," said Hungary, recognizing the words were what she had said before. "But can I ask where you got the seat-belt for your sister?"
"I supplied it myself," Switzerland said quickly. "Lili drank wine, and I don't trust the limo driver."
Hungary couldn't help but wonder how on earth Switzerland had installed the seat-belt on the spot, but aside from that, she dearly wanted to ask if they were still alive, for real. Nevertheless, no matter how hard she tried to speak, her will was caged to the dream.
"So about later, Vash…" she started, "Could you do me a favour?"
"Sure." Switzerland's eyes flickered to Austria, then back at her. She was fully aware of him trying to avoid the Austrian Nation.
Hungary looked up from the blood-red wine in her glass. "If it so happen that I'm assigned a seat beside someone I don't like at the meeting, do me a favour and sit on that seat for me?"
"So long as you do whatever Lili asked," Switzerland nodded. "I want her to enjoy the meeting." She knew he would agree anyway, since he was trying to sit away from Austria with his own reasons.
"I have Belgium to help me with that. Besides, you'll be accompanying Lili too, right?"
"Yes." He sounded concerned. "Hopefully, there won't be any dancing. I don't like dancing."
Hungary chuckled. She instantly remembered Japan telling her about his imagination with Switzerland in a dress. Japan had mentioned it once, during their gossip about yaoi books with South Korea and Taiwan. Apparently, Japan had randomly thought of Switzerland and him, singing and dancing around the Alpine mountains.
"He did what?" the ghostly Gilbert squawked, appearing by her knees. "That's hilarious!"
She waved him off and returned to Switzerland, who was giving her a confused expression. "What? I'm sorry, I don't like dancing," he insisted.
"And I respect that," said Hungary. Yo, ho, ho, tra, la, la, her mind entertained. The little Prussian was laughing by her side at the shared recollection.
Suddenly the memory made her repeat a question that shocked her, now that she knew something more. "Vash, why are you trying to avoid Roderich? I thought you two were in good terms?"
"Yeah, but…" Switzerland glanced to where Austria was; the man was being distracted by Italy. "After all that had come to pass, you never really forget don't you? Old histories. You of all Nations should know. And I don't like what he's been doing."
Hungary's lips parted. "What?"
"He's burrowed one of my best doctors and I haven't seen the man for a while now. He said he was working on some mad things. Silly medicines and such…experiments…"
Hungary swallowed. The little Gilbert leaned against her leg, like they were telling him a bedtime story.
"Austria's gone frantic, I think," continued the Alpine, "I don't know what he's doing and I don't like the fact that he stole one of my doctors. Last minute preparations are not ideal at this rate. People are predicting an early incoming disaster."
"Yeah," Hungary voiced; she had been clueless of this before, but now it was all making total sense. "He hasn't been inviting me over to his place. I guess he's still preparing last minute duties."
Switzerland nodded at this, and then all of a sudden his face froze. Little Gilbert looked at her with glittering eyes and the whole limo of Nations started to fade away. Hungary placed the rim of the glass to her lips and gulped the last of her wine only to be suddenly drench in –
Splaaaaaaaaaaaash!
Hungary's face was showered with warm water. Panic-stricken, her arms flailed to stop the stream flooding her senses. She realized she was wearing a respiratory mask loosely around her neck, and the water bounced about the mask before assaulting her face. Her throat was itchy and her eyes furiously blinked up at an empty grey sky.
She was wide awake.
Liquid blurred her vision and it felt like a waterfall drenched her for hours. In mere seconds it graciously ended. The bucket load of muck was rudely poured on her by someone–oh yeah. Right. She was back in this nightmare.
"Ro, that was very gentlemanly of you!" said a voice tinged with mocking laughter.
"Why thank you Bulgaria. I could not help it. The Magyar was a very smelly, smelly, smelly corpse. I had to deal with it, y'know?"
Laughter erupted.
Hungary tasted sour liquid mixed with mud and grime in her mouth. They had doused her with the marsh water.
I will thank both of them later, she thought, quickly spitting everything out. As she did, her throat stole the opportunity to release glowing fluids that reminded her of the dream all over again.
The Immunity.
She had detested it earlier but now she did not know what to think. It was a substance made by the hands of innocent doctors forced under Austria's will.
She immediately rinsed her mouth with filtered water from one of the canteens.
It had been some odd hours of sleep after Bulgaria showed up. When he and Romania had reunited they'd immediately exchanged news. Romania had told him almost everything he'd told her; from the changes in Europe to his plans for his people, and everything else in between; the trains, his patrol men, Hungary's attempts to kill him...
That time, Hungary had not really interrupted them because she was worried. Just worried.
Bulgaria and especially Romania were both armed. Bulgaria was scrawnier than usual, but he looked strong enough with a fighting chance against anyone. When he had emerged out of the shadows with his spear, he looked unkempt and bedraggled, like he had spent months alone traveling without his favourite coffee drink.
The Bulgarian wore a black, V-neck shirt with ripped sleeves, a green scarf around his neck. His uniform trousers were smeared with stains of what looked like blood. His face appeared to be its usual colour, even though he'd only relied on a raggedy scarf against the ash.
The fact that Bulgaria did not have a filtration mask was probably because he had traveled through warmer lands, than radioactive, ash-ridden zones. That, or Hungary supposed, the air was not so bad in the southern regions after all.
One of the other things Hungary was worried about was that she was slightly afraid of what Romania might do to her and Turkey. Now that he had found who he had been looking for, she thought he would finally leave them alone. Though, he had not said anything about it yet.
The notion of finally being left alone would have made her extremely happy before, but now she was completely unsure. There were cannibals still out there and she had no weaponry in hand. Romania had Illes's trust and the trains, as well as food supplies and a frying pan for all sake.
Hungary rubbed her eyes. Tired and sore from where she slept, she wiped her face with her torn uniform and as she did so, she could hear the ridicule from the Romanian and his ally.
"The Magyar needed a midday shower," he said.
"Wow. You really put up with her, this long?"
"It was hell."
Romania and Bulgaria's laughter faded as soon as they walked away to converse. Hungary did not feel the sudden need to run up to them and punch them both in the guts. She felt too tired and hungry for anything right now.
Gazing around, she found Turkey sitting under the shade of a boulder. His head limply faced her, fatigue etched on his features. Hungary crawled up to him with concern.
Last night, when the Turk had asked Bulgaria about Cyprus's whereabouts, Bulgaria shook his head and dismissed the subject to sleep. Turkey had given up then. He slept with clouded eyes filled with dismay, and Hungary had made sure to sleep close by. She did not want to lose this Nation; he might be the only friend she had left.
"Help me up, will yah, Hungary?" groaned Turkey.
Grabbing both his hands, Hungary stood up and raised the Turk to a standing position. He wobbled for a moment and gently told her to let go.
Hungary watched as he independently took a few steps forward. He was doing infinitely better than when they had found him. Relaxed, she handed him some food and offered a seat, although, Turkey was more interested in practicing his motor functions.
"If you can walk, I can walk," he contested. "Don't worry, I'm fine! Let's have a three-legged race against those two. Watch and we'll win!"
Hungary smiled. She was really glad he was feeling better.
However, his leg injury had not healed as much as she'd hoped. The bandages and ointments were not curing it fast enough, and a single infection would make it swell. Turkey told her he'd tripped on a shard of metal in the ravine. He had almost drowned.
After they ate the rations that were set up for them, Turkey reclaimed his satchel, which Romania had left unguarded.
Searching through his bag for Turkish food, he cursed. Someone had pried through his bag and disposed the provisions. Instead of carrying out his anger, he fished out a tile-game 'Okey' to soothe pulsing nerves. The Nation started placing the tiles on a boulder to play.
"Join me?" he asked her lightly, scattering the game tiles.
"Oh Turkey," she grinned, happily seating herself in front of the man to play a short game.
Romania and Bulgaria were no were near them. Hungary spied their little figures, through the blackened-forest of thin trees. They were enjoying each other's company, like old friends immersed in a long conversation.
Hungary could not really hear what they were talking about, but she was certain that they were exchanging jokes and stories – and they were laughing, like the world around them was not so dark and bleak. She could see Romania showing off a silly magic trick and Bulgaria admiring the Nation with a goofy grin.
Geez, I swear those two are married,Hungary thought humorously, believing one was gay for the other. After placing her turn on Turkey's game, her gaze averted to something utterly surprising.
Hungary noticed Romania had left behind his things, unsupervised. Unattended. Bulgaria's spear leaned against Romania's large supply bag as if pointing her to the 'Bag of Goodness', like a ray of sunshine.
'Bag of Idiocy' in my opinion,Hungary smirked, thinking Romania was stupid enough to neglect such a treasure. Immediately, she stood up, ran to Romania's bag, ripped it open, and rummaged through.
Turkey noticed her leave. "Um. I save this game for later, then?"
He found her taking out rations, ropes and blankets, from the bag.
"Whoa. What are ye doin', Hungary?"
"Don't stop me!" Hungary pronounced. She found a flashlight, a spray bottle, a medicine kit, a fire lighter, a random spell book, a bundle of candles, a book of matches and a couple of filtration masks. But no frying pan. No matter.
She started wrapping up some of the supplies in a blanket. At that moment, she hungered to leave. Find Austria. Find others.
"Someone's not thinking straight," said a voice that sent a cold stream down her spine. Something sharp was poking her back, and she instantly knew it was a pointed tip of a spear's blade.
Hungary did not turn around. She felt numb, and she could hear Romania and Bulgaria right behind her. Turkey was deathly silent.
She swore the last time she saw Romania and Bulgaria they were farther away, chatting. Oh great, Romania has teleporting powers now?Hungary angrily thought. The idea was impossible, even with his silly magic tricks. They had probably known she would do something like this.
"Ro, she just wants to find her friends. Let her be," she heard Bulgaria say.
"Turn around, Magyar." Romania's voice sounded commanding, but oddly gentle. She fiercely dropped the bag of supplies and turned her heel, blazing her eyes at Romania's.
He was not holding the spear to her chest – in fact, he was beside Turkey, spinning a pistol with one hand and holding the Turk's arm on the other, as if taking him hostage. Bulgaria was the one pointing the spear straight at her, curiosity in his striking dark eyes.
"Magyar," said Romania, ever so politely. "Put those back in the bag. Please."
Hungary tightened her fists. No. She could steal the spear from Bulgaria and make a run for it. She could navigate her way to the train station, find Illes, and just run for it. Sorry Turkey. She had to go west, to find –
"You know, we are going back to Mister Németh, right?" Romania informed, titling his head.
Hungary looked at him, then Bulgaria. "I don't get him either," shrugged the Bulgarian.
Crossly, Hungary swatted the spear away, and started repacking Romania's things. Every escape attempt had been very hasty, as if a pulsing wave urged her to do desperate and crazy measures. She spat out some glowing fluid after a momentary cough.
Romania started ahead, Bulgaria right behind him, spear in hand.
"Keep up, Magyar!" Romania called. "I'll let you carry the bag, since you want it sooo badly."
"You're letting her carry your stuff?" Bulgaria asked.
"Yup." Romania clapped a hand behind his friend. "It's not like she's going to do anything stupid with it. She's got very little options of escaping at the moment. Oh and, Bul, help yourself with some breakfast, you didn't eat much last night. You must be starvin'! Food's in the bag. Grab a bite and we go!"
Turkey was helping Hungary finish repacking, when Bulgaria loomed over them. He picked up a canned soup and gave it a nod.
"Ro's a good guy," he said to them with a strange tone in his voice. He nodded at the can again, repeating, "A good guy."
Turkey grunted at the ironic statement and with his satchel, he awkwardly limped towards Romania, ready to leave.
Standing up, Hungary slung the bag behind her and gave Bulgaria a hard look. At times he was hard to comprehend. She had known him as much as she had known Romania. Bulgaria had had this habit of saying 'no' with a nod and saying 'yes' with a shake of his head. He had maybe broken that habit, or not. Why nod at the silly canned soup? She wondered if he had started entertaining himself with silly, inanimate objects.
The moment he tucked the can in his pocket, Hungary questioned, "You're not going to eat, that?"
Bulgaria gave her a toothy grin. "I'll eat it later," he muttered and hurried after the others.
Hungary followed, watching the group from behind. Romania was ahead a few steps, pistols in his pockets, ambling onward with confidence and leading the way. On the other hand, Hungary intently and closely observed Bulgaria who placed a scrawny hand behind Turkey's back.
The toothy grin he had shown her was frightening. She gulped. Where did he find his spear? Did he make the weapon…himself?
Writer's Fiddlesticks Ramble:
Helló mindenki! (Hungarian for: Hello everyone!)
Jó reggelt (Hungarian for: Good morning!)
pierogi (Polish dumplings)
Vivimos juntos y morimos juntos! (Spanish for: We live together and we die together!)
Bulgaria and coffee: let's just say, it's pretty popular there. ("Coffee is highly popular in Bulgaria. However, the country's total...is far from being the highest in Eastern Europe...Bulgarians will continue drinking large amounts of coffee at home, at work or when going out..." - Euromonitor's /coffee-in-bulgaria/report)
In the very beginning, when I was reading aloud Austria's part to recheck, my little sister came up with this for the scene:
Doctor: I knew you were treble when I walked in! So shame on you now, plagued me these things I'd never seen. Then you put me down, Oh, I knew you were trouble when I signed in! So shame on you now, gave me these things I'd never seen. Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground.
*barf noises* HEEEEEEEEERGH! HEEEEEERGH! Treble, treble, trouble! *dies*
Austria: *turns away* And that's how you drop zhe bass.
Song is Taylor Swift's I Knew You Were Trouble.
Need I explain myself...
