I blinked about Iceland's words for a minute. No way could it be true. I couldn't smell any smoke, couldn't hear the creaking and groaning of dying beams and wood, hear the crackling of flames or the screaming of… no. I wasn't going there.

Shaking my head I placed my hand on my hip, as I was about to shout down to Iceland the door banged open, the silver-haired boy running in, hair darkened by soot and eyes watery and red, a cloud of smoke bursting into the room like a soap bubble, rolling over the ceiling and smothering the lights that were off. Flames in the hallway revealed themselves and heat rushed in ahead of them, following in the tracks of smoke. Iceland clung onto me, his body shaking like a newborn deer, actual tears instead of lava streaming from his blind, silver eyes.

"N-Noregur…" Iceland's voice was shaky, still echoed by the volcanic eruption at his place, "Noregur I can't find Feltland, a-and Hong Kong went to the store to pick up some things for dinner. I-I promise I didn't do anything to set the house on fire! I promise!"

I held him close and took the both of us away from the burning door, focusing more on Iceland's distraught face rather than the flames that licked at the doorway, threatening to jump onto the carpet and smother it in orange.

"I didn't even think about it," I told Iceland, "Now we gotta find Feltland before-"

"No!" Iceland sobbed out, "I don't want us to die, Noregur. I don't want to kill us, I don't."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, blinking in confusion at his cries.

Iceland wiped his eyes, "T-The day before the f-fire, Danmörk called m-me and asked if we could y'know… like, go hiking or bike riding, just something together…"

"I don't mean to interrupt but what are you talking about?" I jumped in his sentence, and the Icelandic boy just sniffled and continued.

"He asked if w-we could go, and he didn't call you guys because he didn't want t'bug you… and he thought I was free, and I was, but I lied and said I had to work. And… and we were supposed to leave the next morning, before the sun rose… s-so if I didn't lie D-Danmörk wouldn't have gotten caught…" The tears came faster and fell heavier, his pale fingers clutching the front of my shirt as he hiccupped.

So no wonder he was so upset with Poland. I shushed the Icelandic boy and made our eyes connect, "Honey, I know you're feeling horrible, but you'll feel worse if we leave Feltland. How did he get out of my room? I put him down for a nap before I fell asleep." He shook his head frantically in response, and it made my heart heavy, slowly dropping as the added weight of fear and worry piled onto it. "Well let's go find him, okay?"

"But, Noregur!" Iceland kept me from moving when I tried to step toward the doorway, "I don't want you to die… I don't know what I'll do…"

I pulled him with me, unsure of what to say. It wasn't often that Iceland broke down, and I wasn't too worried as it seemed the fire had just started and didn't oppose much of a threat. I stepped toward the doorway and bent my knees slightly to avoid the smoke, attempting to block out the memories and images of the last fire I was in, the heat, the smoke, the shouts and cries… The ceiling collapsed right in front of me and I shouted, subconsciously sucking in a large amount of smoke, making my eyes water as Iceland pulled me down to the ground so I could breathe. I coughed harshly and wiped my eyes clean of the salty moisture that invaded them, Iceland watching worriedly as I fought to regain the right balance of air in my lungs.

After the bout of coughing I gestured for Iceland to follow me, pulling my shirt over my nose to block out some of the smoke, Iceland doing the same. We barely stood enough so we could walk, almost off-balanced whenever we took a step, creeping around the debris that fell from the ceiling in the past few moments. Flames were reaching off the opposite wall, obviously where the fire started. It had already engulfed Iceland's room, and it was spreading quickly. Crackling and creaking filled the air now, and we slowly approached the stairs, stopping at the top to peer down the descent, the steps free of all debris or flame. I gestured for Iceland to stop before pulling my shirt off my nose and listening for the slightest peep of Feltland's presence.

"Feltland!" I called, voice sounding empty in the deathly silent home, not even a car driving by or a breeze howling against the exterior of the house.

I heard a crying noise then, but it was coming from down the hall. We spun around and listened to the crying, and we heard a shouting come from one of the bedrooms.

The room was on the flaming side of the house.

I ordered Iceland to go downstairs but he refused, and when I was about to drag him downstairs myself, grabbing his wrist with my toes on the top step the ceiling groaned again, heavy beams and boxes that were stored away in the attic fell, smashing on the stairway and igniting it into flames. Black smoke rose from the clutter and stood ominously in front of us, looking like a demon with transparent eyes that we could see through to the rest of the house. The smoke continued its assent to the ceiling where it crawled like a spider, almost mocking us and how we were now trapped between flames, climbing across the ceiling until it sat above us, merging with its brethren.

Scowling I backed up with Iceland, who began to shake again, fearful eyes looking around like a trapped animal, questioning whether he could jump the rubble on the staircase or if he could hideout in my bedroom or jump from a window, and it killed me inside. In the past I had to protect him and keep him safe, but now it seemed impossible. I wrapped my arms around him and shushed him, closing my eyes to ignore the fire and feeling Iceland clutch onto me, seeking protection from the violent heat.

Slowly I pulled Iceland away and stared right into his eyes, "We need to get Feltland. Now."

Understanding the dire need for the boy's immediate retrieval he attempted to stop his sniffling and frowned worriedly, and we helped each other navigate the darkening hallway, replacing my shirt over my nose as we shuffled down to the door where we could hear Feltland's crying behind. I pointed at my room in an order for Iceland to go back there, and he obeyed silently, sitting just beyond the doorway to watch me, silver eyes studying everything around me.

I banged on the door, and heard a shuffle from the space within. "Feltland are you in there?" I shouted, and I heard a weak cry, the sound of flames and billowing smoke heavy within the confines within the room.

Puffing out a sigh I pulled the shirt off my nose and stood up straight, eyes watering against the thickened smoke, feeling strangulated when no air flowed into my lungs. I held out my arms, fingers outstretched and reaching for the door, not daring to touch the doorknob myself. I closed my eyes and began to summon my troll to break down the door, to let us try and rescue Feltland. No, we weren't even going to try; we were going to get him out of there even if it killed us. My words echoed in the flames, and Iceland remained quiet as he knew when spells were being cast. I focused only on the spell, even as a flame jumped onto my pant leg, slowly climbing through and upward, sending pain shooting through the flesh and tissue of my calf, though I did my best to ignore it and focus on the task at hand, no matter how much it hurt.

The magic swirled around me and I could tell I was close to finishing the spell, sweat that had brewed on my forehead running down the blonde strands of hair that sat in a mess in my face. A sickening creak came from overhead, and suddenly something extremely heavy fell on the top of my head, sending me falling to the floor with a thud, my shoulders landing on a bed of hot coals and ash, more smoke and dust sweeping into my lungs and strangling me, the edges around my vision turning black and encroaching the center, energy draining from my arms and legs. I heard Iceland scream, followed by another crashing noise, but I couldn't turn my head to check on my brother. I was choking. Wrapping my hands around my throat as I gasped and wheezed, coughing after every inhale with tears streaming from my eyes and down the sides of my face.

Everything seemed to fade to black before the cover lifted slowly, everything blurry and seeming to have a partially transparent sheet of darkness lying on top of it. I fought to stay awake and I won, eyes clearing almost to perfection, the smoke reaching down after reaching its capacity against the confines of the ceiling.

The bedroom door opened, and my eyes widened when I saw Denmark standing in the doorway, fire wrapping around his biceps and shoulders, what looked like a fiery hood over his head. He was wearing armor that shimmered brilliantly in the flames, heavy chainmail clinking together with every step he took forward. Blue eyes looking down at me he reached down and snatched me up, cradling me like a damsel in distress as he stomped toward my bedroom, not afraid of the flames that reached out like skeletal fingers, wanting to take Denmark and eat him up, or maybe they were reaching for me, a live person who could give sustenance.

Iceland stood in shock, mouth gaping with silver eyes wide, frozen to the ground. Denmark walked up to him and picked him up as well holding both of us in his arms, his mouth in a thin like as blue eyes looked around, looking for an escape. I coughed more, while Iceland was still frozen, burying his face in his hands as it looked like he was crying again, and Denmark ran.

Everything was so fast I couldn't catch any of it. First we were running, Denmark careful not to move us too much, next it was like we were flying, the sound of glass shattering echoing in my ears, and then it felt we were falling, the freezing air latching onto my skin and pinching with pointed claws. We crashed into the snow and rolled, Denmark protecting us by pressing us against his chest and forming almost a shell around us, even as he crashed into the ground, though his armor hurt when we were sandwiched between the metal plates on Denmark's chest and the metal sleeves on his arms, which seem to fracture upon the impact, instantly turning to ash and falling into the snow like black sand. When able to, Denmark sat up and held us close, him smelling of smoke and just his smell that I could never describe.

Iceland was still shaking, and it surprised me when he actually wasn't crying, just in shock. Denmark ran his fingers through the Icelander's hair soothingly. I blinked at him and he looked back down at me, and I could see his shoulder blades were still on fire. I shouted, my voice strained by the smoke and dust, barely coming out as a squeak as I tried to get up and lean over his shoulder to put out the fire, but he held me firm on the snow, blue eyes locked onto mine. Then I realized he wouldn't be able to feel the flames that ate away at his skin, being a figment of my imagination or maybe he was coming to pick us up and take us to Valhalla. Thinking about how Feltland wasn't with us, I guessed that he was safe, finding somewhere to hide until Hong Kong could get back to get him.

Denmark's eyes grew wide with worry and he reached down to touch my unnoticed bleeding shoulder, pieces of glass embedded in the fabric with red splotching my sleeve and running down to my hand, going between my fingers where it dripped onto the pristine whiteness of snow.

"Norge…" Denmark barely whispered, breath coming out in white clouds, and he turned to Iceland. "Is… I… I'm sorry."

Iceland wrapped his arms around Denmark's neck, obviously not bothered by the heat coming from just next to his forearm. "Pabbi!" Iceland nearly screamed, smiling widely into the chainmail on Denmark's collar bone, tears now running down his face in streams. I joined Iceland in the assault of hugs on Denmark, softly smiling at the Dane who just sat in surprise before smiling widely, holding us all close.

"I am never leaving ya guys alone ever again…" Denmark said, his voice quivering, "Y'guys can't eve' go a day without some havoc being wrecked tha' I have t'save ya from."

I didn't give a response and just rejoiced being in his hold again, and it felt so real,like as if it wasn't just a figment of my imagination. "But what about Feltland? Shouldn't you get him, too?"

"No need t'worry bout him, Norge."

I blinked and looked at him, and the fire on his back blew in the gentle breeze, the flames reaching out like feathers on wings, shining gold like the feathers of a phoenix, the hood that used to cover Denmark's wild hair gone, revealing a mess of blonde hair that stood up at all angles. My eyes widened and I watched the flames twist and curl in the air, beautiful despite the harm they dealt on all who came close enough to be touched. Then the flames let go of Denmark and flew into the air like a piece of shredded paper, spinning before disappearing entirely in a puff of smoke that then spread about until it was no longer visible, faded into the winter sky.

"And… why shouldn't I?" I challenged the Dane, and he only gave me a small kiss on the forehead, gentle and soothing that seemed to make all my fears melt like snow in a fireplace.

He laughed, more breath than actual voice escaping his lips before he spoke again, "Well, Feltland and I 'r kinda tha same."

An ambulance never picked a worse time to pull up.

Both Iceland and I were being treated in the hospital, my arm wrapped so tightly my fingers began to tingle, and matter how hard I stabbed the button the nurse gave me, nobody had appeared to loosen it, but despite that the only other things I was being treated for was the burns that covered my skin. Denmark didn't leave us since we arrived at the room, sitting across from us after having changed into a comfortable looking sweater and jeans, just a little big since they weren't his, but given to him by the hospital staff. I pretended to be asleep, looking over Denmark for the first time since I was brought to the hospital with Iceland. The Dane wasn't allowed in the ambulance with us, and I guessed he hung out with Hong Kong, who had called the police when he saw the house with smoke coming out of the roof.

Denmark looked perfect, his skin unscarred and untouched, smooth and looking brand new, and then his hair, now blonde and looking thicker and healthier than before. His words from before swirled around in my mind as I tried to make sense of them, how he said that he and Feltland were one in the same, it was confusing and messed with my thoughts, thinking of how Feltland could ever be that big goof. But then I remembered the fire that was on Denmark's back, the fire that resembled a phoenix wing, and I was curious, thinking up questions I could ask him once it felt appropriate.

Iceland coughed in the bed beside me, not fully recovered from his volcanic ordeal. He was pale with a light burn on his right arm, but other than that he was perfectly fine, besides the smoke he had inhaled. Turns out instead of puffing ash from his lungs it was produced in his mouth like saliva, which was good for us to know because we thought he didn't need oxygen to function during an eruption. He was sleeping soundly, exhausted from all the panic and adrenaline from before.

"I know yer awake, Norge~" Denmark sang, turning my attention back to him.

I kept my eyes closed and my face expressionless, "No I'm not. Go away."

"But if I did then you'd miss me, right?"

A light blush attacked my cheeks when Denmark kissed me, soft and quick before pulling away, my eyes wide as I stared at him, a smile on his perfect face. He looked so happy to see me and I didn't understand why. If he was Feltland before then he was with us for a long while, getting all of my attention because he was so cute and adoring, then he would have no reason to smile like this, as I was expecting him to be smug after seeing more of my softer, child-loving side.

I sighed in defeat at his words and glared at the wall, "Yeah… so don't die again, okay?"

Denmark grinned, "Won't haf'ta worry 'bout that, Norge."

He attempted to kiss me again but I turned my head so he only got my cheek, my hand lightly pushing him away. "I don't understand why you're so clingy today." I grumbled, "You weren't the one who was dead."

The now blonde Dane gave a hearty laugh, "Yeah but y'weren't tha one who was brought t'a house full f'strange people. Confused as t'why he thought he knew his new family more than h'should and didn't know a thin' about himself, and why he didn't feel like his name was actually his, or, when he realized who he was, felt so isolated because he couldn't tell you who he was or anything." He had a sad smile and brushed my bangs from my face, fingers which used to be so rough were now not, they were soft and almost delicate feeling against my skin.

I studied him some more, and I noticed that he was slightly smaller than before, same height but he wasn't as broad or as muscular, skinny almost, though I could distinctly see a small layer of pudge on his stomach, and I smirked and had to cover my mouth to keep my snickers from escaping when I noticed it.

Denmark blinked in confusion, "What?" he asked, and when I chuckled even harder his face went deathly pale, "Oh shit, Norge! What's the matter? Why are y- YOU'RE SCARING ME!"

His banter awoke Iceland who looked over in a tired confusion, sitting up in his bed and rubbing his eyes. "What's with the ruckus?" He asked, words slightly slurred.

I pointed at Denmark's belly, "He's pudgy." That's all I said, biting my lip.

Denmark's face went red with embarrassment and Iceland started to giggle. "D-Don't laugh at me!" Denmark cried, wrapping his arms around his stomach. "Anyway it's your fault, Ice!"

Iceland blinked, "What? Why mine?"

Denmark glared and threw and pointed at the silver-haired boy accusingly, "You made a whole tray of butter cookies and expected a little boy not to eat nearly all of them!"

"THAT WAS YOU?"

"DAMN RIGHT!" Denmark laughed, and I smirked as I watched the two, loving that our little family was back together.

The door opened and the fighting silenced, purple and blue eyes turning to the doorway to see a tall and stoic Swede with a cheerful and bouncy Finn beside him, a worried looking Sealander and a stressed looking Hong Konger behind them.

Sweden stopped in his tracks, the others behind him following suit, except for Hong Kong who slipped passed them to be at Iceland's side, not saying anything but just staring at Iceland lovingly with his hazel eyes, Iceland blushing in embarrassment and turning away. Sweden's stoic appearance faded when his eyes found Denmark, sea-green eyes widening to proportions I had never imagined on the muscular man. Hell, they were wider than Finland's. And immediately the Swede ran forward and hugged Denmark tightly, choking the blonde Dane as he fought to both hug back and breathe.

It was the most violent hug I've ever seen, and when they released each other it was followed by a pouncing Finn and Sealander, Denmark laughing almost madly on the floor clinging onto the other members of his family. He never seemed happier in his life.

We all visited Prussia as soon as we could; nearly all of the countries throwing a massive fit when they heard that Denmark was alive and well, not lying about Feltland's disappearance. Us Nordics with Germany crowded around Prussia's bed, the man frail and shaking, blood coming from his eyes, nose, and mouth, skin deathly pale even for an albino with his hair looking thin. Apparently he barely had a few days left, if that. Germany was a wreck with bags under his eyes and his blonde hair a mess, his lip quivered whenever Prussia coughed or shivered. France, Canada, and Spain were in the other room to let us have our turn with the dying man, though they were impatient, and despite Prussia always stating he loved being alone, he had plenty of friends that had come over to make his last moments happy with the presence of loved ones.

Denmark had a solemn expression on his face, as did I, Finland running his thumb over Prussia's hand as he held it, the skin easily moving beneath Finland's gentle and feathery touch. Quietly Denmark tugged on Germany's sleeve, gesturing for them to walk out into the hallway. They left and the door shut behind us, and I gave a glance to the door, wondering what the Dane was up to. Prussia coughed, and it sounded moist, more blood trickling from the side of his mouth, and upon opening his eyes he looked blind and lost, eyes a pasty red that looked like watered down blood. He chuckled weakly, and smiled, so sickening yet so pitiful.

"Hey y'know, I might see Old Fritz again…" he muttered dreamily.

Finland smiled awkwardly, "You've said that seven times, now."

"Oh did I?" Prussia blinked, obviously more lost than originally thought. "… s'Norwegen here?"

"I am." I stood from my seat and took Prussia's other hand, so cold and dry that I wanted nothing more than to help him to at least be comfortable.

Prussia tried to grin but it died out, and he huffed. "S'glad y'got Dan back… jus' wish I could take 'im out fer a drink…"

I chuckled, "He's still under aged if you think about it…"

"Well then I don' wanna think 'bout it." That made almost all of us chuckle.

Suddenly there was a barrage of shouting from the hallway and we all jumped and turned toward where the sound was coming from. We could make out Germany's shouts of… glee? And Denmark laughing and shouting along with Germany. The door flew open and Germany ran in with a smile, tears streaming down his face as he reached Prussia's side, holding the albino's face in his hand, Prussia only looking up a little oddly, unsure of what was going on but still smiling in his delusion. In Germany's other hand sat a crinkled up piece of paper with some writing on it, and I was curious at its contents.

Denmark strode in then, hands in his pockets as he smiled, eyes closed as he hummed along. He stopped right beside me and I stared at him, questioning what made Germany so happy. Germany laughed happily, wiping his eyes free of his tears.

"B-Bruder… you're going t'be alright." Germany said, almost madly. And Prussia only blinked, his smile vanishing. "Thank you, Dänemark, thank you."

I turned to Denmark, "What'd you do?"

Denmark grinned at me, "Gave him one'v my islands to claim as his own. It's a 'thank you' for taking care of m'country when I was two feet tall."

Prussia got better.

End.

Phoenix: Upon reaching old age the Phoenix erupts into flames, turning itself to ash. Afterward, from the ashes the phoenix is reborn as an infant, growing into adulthood to live a new life.

Author Note: I'm thinking about doing an... epilogue thing for this, so mya. No promises but it's just a thought. I hope you enjoyed this~