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The Vanishing
Chapter 10 - A Cry for Help
It was morning…
England woke up and immediately wished he hadn't. His mad - in all senses of the word - older brother, Scotland, was looming over him, his red hair sticking out at all angles and a ragged tartan rug wrapped around him in the place of clothes.
"I'm no' happy!" Hamish shouted, his face inches from Arthur's.
Arthur winced, cringing away from his brother, and in the process backed into… a wall?
"Artie-dude!" America said, or rather yelled, in his ear. The wall, apparently, was Alfred. England again winced, covering both of his ears, which were now ringing and would probably never stop doing so.
"Er, yes, I am," England said, deciding not to bother admonishing the other Nation's use of his nickname. Instead he decided to address his brother. "Why are you not happy, Hamish?" He asked, trying to sound interested.
"Well may ye ask," Hamish said, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the bed - such as it was. "Ye see, little brother, when ah woke up this morn'n', hung-over, do ye know where ah found ma'self?"
"Not really," England replied.
"Ah woke up," Hamish said, "at t' bottom o' a spiral staircase, and do ye know why ah woke up?"
"Why did you wake up, Hamish?" England asked, after Hamish spent a few moments eyeballing him, obviously prompting him to ask.
"Because," Hamish began, "that bloody fool of an Italian fookin' stepped on me 'ead. An' then 'e cried like the wee girlie that he is." Scotland looked to his left in disgust, and England saw Italy holding a teapot and trembling. The trembling was causing tea to spill intermittently from the spout of the teapot, and Arthur had to restrain himself from yanking the teapot out of the Italian's hands.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. England! I woke up early because I always do because I like to get up and water my garden and have a nice breakfast of pastaaaa and I accidentally woke up Signor Russia and he said I should help him get coffee and tea for the morning so I went even though he's big and creepy and he scares me and I accidentally stepped on your fratello and I'm so sorry!" Italy started sobbing, and England shook his head, fighting his way out of the covers to rescue the tea.
"There'll be no need for that, Feliciano," England said, using the quiet, soothing voice he had always used with his young colonies to get them to sleep. He gave Italy an awkward pat on the shoulder. Italy sniffed and looked up at him with wide eyes.
"Are you sure, Signor England? I'm not in trouble?" Italy looked amazed at this.
"No, Feliciano, you're not in trouble. Just… try not to step on other Nation's heads, okay?"
"Yeah, man. Stepping on heads is uncool!" America said. He was making the bed military-style, which Arthur was pleasantly surprised about. He made a mental note to praise America at some point for that.
"Sì!" Italy grinned, and offered the teapot to Arthur. "I made a pot of tea for you, Signor England. You should take it, it's nice!"
"Erm yes, thank you," Arthur took the pot with some trepidation. America's attempts at tea were bad enough, who knew what Feliciano might have done with it? Oh well, tea was tea. He decided to go down to the kitchen and drink it.
"Well?" Hamish's strident voice made Arthur turn back with a sigh.
"Yes?"
"Why, in the name of Auld Willie and 'is great tartan kilt an' stockings, did ye and yer fool boy there leave me at t' bottom of staircase? Am ah no' good enough ter be up 'ere with t' rest of ye? Ah'll 'ave ye know ah've dined with world leaders, and some o' them didnae throw me oot!" With the words 'fool boy', Hamish pointed at Alfred, who looked around in confusion.
"Well, to be honest, we didn't think we could get you up the staircase…" Arthur began, but was cut off.
"I'm no' happy," Hamish repeated. "Ah'd leave, but this is ma hoose. An I'm stayin'. They'll never teck me alive!" With this, Hamish gathered his rug up around him and left dramatically with a hair flip that would've made France proud.
"Dude's gone," Alfred observed.
"Sì, he is," Italy agreed. "But I won't leave you Mr. England! You can count on me!" Italy grinned quite madly, and England shuddered.
"Oh, no," England muttered, before shaking his head and getting back to business. "Alright, well, I suppose we'd best see who's up."
"Ooh, I know, I know!" Italy stuck his hand wildly in the air. Alfred had to dart out of the way so the Italian didn't knock his glasses off. "Signor Russia is in the kitchen. He made coffee-"
"Hell yeah, I could use some coffee! Even if it's British and weird."
"-But I think he put vodka in it," Italy continued as if America hadn't spoken. "Papa Austria is still playing his piano, I think Big Brother France was talking to him and Papa Austria was telling him to go away… fratello is in the kitchen with Big Brother Spain."
"Right, right," England said, checking the various Nations off his mental list. "How about Finland, Lily and Denmark?"
"My dude Finlandia's asleep over there!" America yelled, gesticulating.
Something that Arthur had previously thought was a lump of duvets stirred and Finland's head emerged. "Not anymore," he snarled, and covered his head again.
"My bad!" America said, still not using anything close to an indoor voice.
"Signora Lily is in the bath!" Italy announced. England was briefly confused, before remembering that he'd asked about everyone's whereabouts. "I haven't seen Signor Denmark…"
"Dude's probably still in his pillow fort," Alfred said, and marched over to it. "Den, my main man!" He yelled, loudly enough to wake a dead body several miles away. Finland groaned. "We're going downstairs to get food. And beer!" Alfred waited for a few moments. "Beer!" He said again, and then turned to England, a little shaky. "Okay, uh… if he was in there that would've got him."
"I'll handle this," England said, gently moving America aside. Slightly impeded by Italy's hand, which for some reason was clutching his forearm, England started dismantling the pillow fort. Alfred watched with some interest, picking his nose.
Once the pillow fort was no more, Arthur, Alfred and Feliciano surveyed the scene (such as it was). Denmark's ever-present little hat, black with a red lining. A big axe. And, most worryingly, a bottle of Carlsberg beer sans cap, which had tipped over and was slowly leaking beer onto the wooden floor…
"Signor Denmark is gone!" Italy wailed, and buried his head in England's shoulder.
Later...
"Who would kidnap or harm Denmark?" England was asking.
No-one answered. He, America, the two Italies and Spain were sat in the kitchen.
Feliciano was clutching England's arm and urging him to drink his tea "…and then you'll feel much more relaxed, it's a special tea, Signore England" the Italian told England.
Romano was sorting Germany's smalls which were now very small and very pink. Whilst Spain was stirring a pot of something very tomatoey on the stove whilst still sporting a very large bandage. He was singing something in Spanish and sounded very forlorn.
Russia had wandered off muttering about 'his Baltics' and smacking his Nokia on hard surfaces as he went.
"Man, I miss that guy…" America said quietly.
"Denmark's only just gone…" England replied, thinking hard.
"Drink your tea, Signor England, I made it specially for you!" Italy urged.
"How do you know he's just gone?" America asked.
"The beer can was still dripping beer," England said firmly.
"He's nowhere to be found and I can't hear him!" Finland said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "It's really not like him…"
"What? To wander off?" England asked.
"No, I mean you can usually hear him for miles. He's the loudest person I know," Finland replied. "Should we try to get help today? Walk to the nearest town or something?"
Finland seemed to be the only sensible person, apart from himself of course, England thought. "Shush, I'm trying think…" he muttered.
"Drink your tea, Signore England. It will make you feel better," Italy insisted, picked up the teapot and poured out a cup for him - albeit a little shakily.
"Yes, thank you, Feliciano," England said distractedly. But didn't touch his cup. "I wonder…Finland? When Denmark arrived did he say anything about if he met anyone on the way or where they went?"
Finland shook his head, "Not really… the usual rubbish."
England picked up his teacup and was about to drink when France and Austria came in - arguing.
"Oh do shut up, Francis. Bloody Napoleon this… He was a complete douche and you know it!" Austria was telling France.
"He was the greatest military strategist in French history!" France whined.
"Well that's not particularly hard is it? Who else is there?" Austria retorted.
"For God's sake, shut up, you two!" England said, putting his teacup back down. "I'm trying to think…"
"Oh stop being so dramatic, England," Austria said.
"Den's gone, man! Have some respect!" America told the Austrian. "Besides, where the hell were you? You could have done it! In your fancy bedroom… I bet you weren't even there! I bet you did it!"
Austria looked puzzled, which was not what America was aiming for. "Denmark has disappeared? Who would kidnap that lunk?"
France put a hand to his head, "Oh mon dieu! Eet eez terrible for one so young and innocent!"
Finland slapped him, "Young and innocent? He's a danger to everyone, especially himself! He's a complete hooligan! However, I and Sweden are in charge of him and… oh Berwald…" Finland sat down and looked very gloomy.
"Ha! It was you! Finland!" America yelled and pointed at him dramatically.
Finland stared at him and then shook his head, "American idiot…" he said and took a mysterious list out of his pocket and wrote the American's name down…
"Shut up, Alfred… I'm figuring all this out," England said and put the teacup to his lips and was about to take a sip when Russia came in looking triumphant.
"I've got a signal!"
"Get in! Dude… you need to ring my Prez!" America said, hurrying up to the Russian.
Russia stepped away from him, "Don't touch me," he said with a growl.
"Ring my Embassy, they are the most efficient," Austria said.
"Non! Ring mine! Zay are very very good… and tell them the wine here is awful and I need a consignment of Beaujolais 1964 sending along with some very big buff Special Forces officers to protect moi!"
"Ring the police… what's the number here, England?" Finland asked.
"999," England said. "Russia…"
But Russia wasn't listening to any of them. He had already dialed a number. "Privet? Privet?"
"Tell them to send someone quickly… we are at Chillingley House, postcode…" England began.
"House? This is a castle isn't it?" Austria asked.
"No, it's a house. It just looks like a castle, that's what Artie said," America told the Austrian confidently. "I bet they don't have castles in Australia?"
Austria ignored him and sat at the table with a plate of croissants and took a cup and was about to pour tea when Italy took the teapot from him, "That's for Signore England, I made it specially for him!"
"Well that's rude!" Austria said and wrestled with the Italian for the pot.
"Privet! Can you hear me?" Russia said into his phone.
"Shush everyone!" England said, holding up his hand. "Russia? Perhaps I should speak with them?" he said.
Russia shook his head adamantly. He then began speaking quickly, "Hallo? We need help… people are disappearing and I think personally that it's Prussia because he's a bad man… also my fairy went back to England."
England held his head in his hands.
"Dude tell them where we are!" America told Russia, dancing around in front of him.
"We are at Chillingley House," Russia said slowly and then nodded as if listening.
"Put them on speakerphone," England said. Beside him Austria and Italy wrestled with the teapot.
France said, "Tell them to send very young and fit policemen!"
"Nyet, that is Francis… he is very silly…da… da…" Russia listened and then said something that made England very very suspicious… "Da I know… and Denmark… yes he's very loud and he gives me a headache as well. Da, I'm amazed that Austria has not been kidnapped. He annoys everyone…"
"Who are you talking to, Russia?" England asked.
Russia switched on the speakerphone and they all heard, clear as day, China telling Russia, "It will be England doing it all. He still thinks he is an Empire and is trying to make everyone his colonies!"
"That's a lie!" England said, spilling his teacup in his anger.
Russia shrugged. "Anyway, will you send help?" Russia asked.
"No! I hope you are all kidnapped!" the voice on the other end of the phone said.
"Even me?" Russia sounded very hurt and his face fell.
"No… I suppose not…" China said and then said, "Oh, I'm going into a tunnel…" and the phone went dead.
"I can't believe that!" England spluttered. He shrugged Italy off who had refilled his cup.
"I know! I don't think that about you!" Russia said and then added, "I don't think you want them as colonies."
"Thank you!" England said.
"I think you just wanted to kill them!" Russia added.
England took a sip of his tea and did a spit-take. "What?"
Austria shook his head, "Bunch of idiots! Ring someone else, Russia," he told him as he poured a tea into his cup, glaring at Italy as he did so.
"You can't tell me what to do!" Russia said.
"Nah he can't, give me that phone, dude and I'll ring!" America said and then the two superpowers wrestled.
The Nokia shot up in the air, hit the ceiling and landed in Spain's tomatoey pot. The Spaniard looked up and then down and looked as if this was the final straw. "You are all stupido!" he yelled, his usually spaced-out happy persona cracking. "I don't like any of you! Apart from Romano and Feliciano and sometimes Francis although he and Gilbert left me tied to a lampost in my underwear. And I quite like Alfred…" Spain just about ran out of words and then flounced out with a dripping spoon.
"Well…" England muttered.
America and Russia dived, as one, towards the stove and both stuck their hands in the pot and then pulled them back out, yelping with pain as the hot tomato sauce burnt their hands.
"For heaven's sake. Everyone just calm down! I have an idea for getting out of here and getting help," England said, standing up.
"Mon ami… mon cher… I zink…" France began, putting a hand on England's arm.
England shook him off, "Get off me you perv…"
"But…Look everyone. Look at Austria!" France said, shakily. He pointed at the Austrian.
Austria had not disappeared or been kidnapped… He was face down in his croissants…
England, thinking this was very unusual for such a fastidious man and lifted the Austrian's head up. The Austrian's face was very pale, his violet eyes wide open. In his hand he clutched a teacup…
"He's been poisoned!" someone cried.