Chapter 10: Day 5, Part 1

A/N: Yay! This fic now has a cover! …Thanks for the review(s) guest(s). Don't ask why I italicize game names. I just do. Some deserve it.

"All of our stuff was in there you know, we have absolutely no money, or clothes, or means of transportation."

"You don't think I know that, Artie? This all could have been avoided if we hadn't left anyone behind."

"Oh like you're one to talk."

"Enough!" They were still standing in the parking lot, at a complete loss of what to do. Germany, for one, was done listening to petty arguments. "Everyone's belongings were in the RV, Arthur. You're no worse off than the rest of us. Arguing over what would have prevented it solves nothing."

"Actually I have a theory and it involves leaving me and Matthew behind." Japan spoke up, waiting for everyone to finally pay attention to him before continuing. "Civilians have no idea what this clue hunt is about, so they would have no way of knowing the keys mean something. I agree with Francis in that whoever stole our car was also behind the key, this wasn't spur of the moment but planned."

England narrowed his eyes and turned on the smaller Nation. "Interesting theory, seems pretty convenient that you were missing during the time it was stolen."

Japan handed him the receipt for his new phone and the box it came in. "I told you I was buying a new phone, here is my proof."

"Guys, enough. We're not getting anywhere accusing each other of crap we didn't do."

"We're not getting anywhere regardless." Romano snapped.

"Well I'm vouching for Kiku here. He says he's innocent and I believe him- my country my rules."

"So when we're stuck parading around our countries because we didn't make the deadline I can tell you the same thing?" Romano did not want to ever repeat this, and the only protection against doing so had just driven off into the glorious sunset.

"May I continue?" Japan asked, getting slightly annoyed with being ignored and talked over so often. Germany glared at anyone who dared try to speak and motioned for Japan to carry on. "As I was saying, it was planned. Someone knew we would be here and used the opportunity of it being unlocked and unguarded to steal it. Whoever took it is either in on the hunt or knows about it from one of us."

"Didn't I just say let's not go pointing fingers at each other? Look, I'll call a taxi and get us out of here alright? We can regroup in a place that's not the middle of a parking lot." Maybe the others had noticed and chose not to say anything but they were starting to draw an unnecessary crowd with all the yelling.

"We don't have money for a taxi." Romano said. The one time, the one time he leaves his wallet behind and it gets stolen. Isn't that called Murphy's Law?

"I've got a house a half hour from here with money. Since we can't book a hotel we'll just have to stay there for the night." America was a big country, he didn't have just one house. More like thirty to stay in whenever he traveled. The problem was that aside from the mansions in Virginia and New York the rest were two-bedroom accommodations, definitely not big enough to house twelve people. But they didn't need to know that yet.

The prospect of a stationary bed for the night placated them for the most part. They were stuck in a foreign city after all, at least there was a bright side.

Ten minutes later a bright yellow minivan pulled up next to them and the driver rolled down the window. "Taxi for Jones?" The driver looked relatively young, too young to be stuck in the taxi business. He wore aviator sunglasses so dark they couldn't see his eyes behind the lenses and a too-large flat cap over box-dyed blonde hair. "You know I can't fit all of you at once right?"

"I'll pay extra if you can make two trips." America offered, hoping the stash of cash at the house would cover four 30 minute drives.

The driver shrugged, "Yeah I guess. Pick who's goin' and get in." America, England, Russia, France, and both Italies ended up being the first group, after various death threats and bribes.

"He'll be back in an hour alright? Don't do anything stupid in my city." Then they were gone.

"So what's your story? I usually don't get groups like this." The driver- John Doe, apparently- glanced at Russia in the review mirror over the rim of his glasses.

"Our car was stolen." France said, miffed that all of his extra clothes were also gone. They were designer, damn it.

"All of you fit into one car? Wow, I guess the circus is in town." He laughed at his own joke.

"Hilarious." England deadpanned. "Aren't you a little young to be in this business?"

"Why, yes. Yes I am." He cracked a smile at the blonde's concerned expression. "Aw, come on. You don't have Phineas and Ferb in Britain? It was a joke, dude. I'm perfectly licensed to drive around in a minivan all day."

"Right…"

"Ve~ I think being a taxi driver is cool! You get to meet new people all day and sit in a nice comfy chair."

"Anything to get out of exercise is 'cool', idiota."

"You forgot to mention that this house is fit for three in the taxi." The house- townhouse really- had a small kitchen/dining room, living room, two bedrooms, and one and a half baths. On top of it being small the air hadn't been on in the month it'd been vacant so it was stuffy as hell.

"It was either this or sleeping under the overpass like a bunch of hobos. So make yourselves comfortable while I explain this to the boss." America ran upstairs while Canada rummaged through the coat closet.

"Board games anyone?" It was like Toys R Us threw up in the closet, there were board games overflowing from the shelves. Some with boxes so worn down it was impossible to tell what the original design was and some that looked fresh from the store. The collection ranged from chess to Headbands, plus an entire shelf dedicated to card games and a stupid amount of decks in a variety of colors and designs.

"Did you raid the North Pole or something? I don't think I've ever seen so many games shoved into one closet." England gawked at the sheer number of boxes, wondering if shifting the stacking order would cause an avalanche of games.

"We just love board games. I think I got one we'd all enjoy." Canada slowly pulled out a thin blue box labeled Pandemic and presented it to the rest of the room. "It's a world game kinda like Risk. Only we're working as a team to save the planet instead of against each other to conquer it."

China shrugged, "Why not?"

It took twenty-five whole minutes just to explain how to play. But once everyone picked teams and avatars they actually got to play. It was peaceful for the first five seconds.

"Aiyah, why are all of my cities the ones dying from disease?" It was true, poor China's cities were nearly completely covered in little read sickness cubes. "And why isn't anyone trying to save me?"

"We're busy cleaning up London before it can spread to the rest of Europe." France said, taking his and England's turn.

"So Europe is more important than Asia?"

"Technically Atlanta is the most important city right now…" Japan muttered, looking up when America came down the stairs finally.

"What are you guys- oh that game." He snorted, disappearing again into the kitchen. "Good luck and don't let Atlanta fall." Five minutes later he returned with several steaming bowls of popcorn. "If we want to play a team building game we should get out a deck and play Mafia. Now that builds fantastic relationships."

"What's Mafia?" Romano asked, trying not to sound interested in the slightest.

"Wait, you guys have never played before?" At the unanimous slow head-shake, America gasped in surprise. "Dudes seriously? Where did your childhoods go?"

"Well are you going to explain what the game is or continue telling us how unimaginative the Dark Ages were?"

The blonde dug around the card shelf until pulling out a rather worn deck of Bicycle playing cards proudly proclaiming that they were made in the USA. "It's kinda like Poker where you're trying out fake the other players out and bluff your way through the game but other than that it's completely different. Three cards are the special cards, generally face cards. Two of those are the mafia members and the last is the detective and the rest are just village cards. Each player is dealt one card from the deck including the three special cards and no one is supposed to know who got what. One person, usually the dealer, is the narrator and doesn't get a card. Basically each round the mafia members kill off one player- it can't be the detective- while everyone has their eyes closed except the detective, mafia members, and narrator.

"When everyone's eyes open, they vote on who they think is a mafia member and whoever they vote on is dead and out of the game. The detective can only drop hints on who it is and if the village kills him they're SOL. The game continues until either both mafia members are dead or they are the only ones left in the game. So either the village works together and wins, or is full of traitorous idiots and everyone dies."

By the time he finished explaining the previous game had been shoved to the side and the deck was shuffled and passed out among the eleven Nations. "This sounds complicated…" Italy whined, discretely checking his card and forming a complete poker face.

"It's really not once you get into the game, a very repetitive cycle. I'll be the narrator. Queen of spades will be the detective while the jacks of diamonds and hearts will be the mafia members, k? So everyone look at your cards then close your eyes except the holders of those cards." Half the Nations looked rather reluctant to give up their vision when sitting so close to the others but did it anyway.

In the end, Russia, Japan, and France became the detective and mafia members, respectively. France wasted no time before pointing to a blonde with an evil glint in his eyes. Russia watched contently as Japan silently agreed and America called for all eyes open.

"Alright." He paused, for effect of course, "Late last night a Mr. Matthew Williams was found dead in a ditch on the outskirts of Detroit with only an empty pack of gum and Monopoly money to his name."

"Wha- my currency is not Monopoly money!" Canada tossed his card into the center of the circle- the seven of diamonds- and brought his knees up to his chest to watch for the rest of the game.

"The fact that you knew I was referencing your currency proves that it is Monopoly money." America smirked when Canada had no rebuttal and continued the game. "Villagers, vote on who you think killed poor Matthew Williams." England went first, pointing at Spain without hesitation. "Hold up a finger, bro." Spain frowned at the accusation but did as told. They continued around in a circle, the majority of the votes going to Prussia, with China behind by one.

Prussia flipped his card over- the three of spades- and crossed his arms defiantly. "Suck it losers! You un-awesome villagers killed an innocent man! My awesome ghost will haunt you for all eternity now."

"In the paper this morning it was said that a man by the name of Gilbert Beilschmidt was lynched in the town square the day before and that he could be heard screeching German Sparkle Party the entire time." America actually looked saddened by the fake death he's come up with off the spot, mourning the imaginary loss.

"Of course I died awesomely. Now give me your popcorn, West." The next round progressed faster, until the mafia's next victim was revealed.

"It's because I'm Sicilian isn't it, you bastards?" Romano turned over his card which was the ace of clubs, and promptly glared at the person across from him, who happened to be Germany. (1)

"The coroner claimed that Lovino Vargas had been dead for days before they fished him out of the harbor, the only evidence left behind was a note in someone else's handwriting thanking him for a fantastic night."

"Lovi what did you do?" Spain cried, crushing Romano in a hug. "Boss Spain will avenge you!"

"N-nothing bastardo! It's a d-dam game!" Romano glanced pleadingly at America to move on, which he did by calling the vote to order. Two minutes later, Italy was turning in his card with tears brimming.

"Why would I murder fratello?!" He cried, replacing Spain with an even tighter hug around his brother. "I think real villagers would have been smarter than you guys!"

"Er… Feliciano Vargas was found just a few hours later across town with another note in the same handwriting claiming that he knew too much." After the Italies' premature demise, the Nations left in the game were England, France, Japan, China, Germany, Spain, and Russia. When the remaining players closed their eyes Romano gave a shout of indignation upon finding out who his killers were, promptly spewing real death threats but leaving their names anonymous.

"Dear crotchety Arthur Kirkland-"

"Watch your tongue, wanker."

"-Was found in his flat, facedown in a sea of paperwork after consuming copious amounts of spiked tea in an effort to continue his workaholic tendencies."

"I highly doubt any report would divulge that information but whatever." England pouted, throwing in his jack of clubs. "I do hope that the villagers get it this time, the detective is doing a shoddy job at revealing the mafia."

"And you did so much better when you were alive." Prussia chastised. "It looks like Sherlock can be killed after all. Or was it the Doctor?"

"Sod off, git. I lasted longer than you did."

"Continuing!" America interrupted, gesturing to the various counts the Nations held up. "Artie's right, you guys are a terrible village." Russia threw in his card and the remaining players groaned. "Detective Braginsky appeared to be the sole victim of an angry mob, having been framed for the deaths of the Vargas twins. Though he died innocent of that claim the investigation uncovered a dark past for the late detective."

"You are having too much fun with this, oh Great Omniscient Narrator." France said, bemused.

"Of course I am dude! Coming up with your deaths feels like were all a part of a TV show or something."

"Says the only one who can't die." Romano deadpanned. America shrugged, moving on with the game.

When everyone opened their eyes this time America just shook his head. "Though the coroner claims he put up quite a fight, Ludwig Beilschmidt met his demise at the bottom of a stairwell in his apartment building at 0900 hours this morning. The only witness? A slate-grey cat flyin' the German national colors on its collar."

"Do you actually premeditate these scenarios or make them up as you go?" Russia asked, feeling pleased that he'd managed to screw up the game so much by targeting all the wrong people in the vote.

"Spontaneity is a gift, commie bastard. There's only three 'innocent bystanders' left, villagers! Do not go down as the village that basically committed suicide in the history books." Spain, China, Japan, and France all gave sidelong glances at each other, trying their damnedest to reach each other's minds. France voted for China, China voted for Spain, Spain voted for Japan, and Japan voted for Spain. "The murder count continues to rise in the village of San Lorenzo with the fall of Mr. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo-"

"Por qué?!" Spain cried, doing a phenomenal Nicolas Cage impression by over-acting his improv death.

"The mafia has closed in on the lone survivor of the village! Mr. Yao Wang is simply no match for them and without any backup in sight he too succumbs to a watery grave. The mafia are victorious! Staking their claim over the new ghost town of San Lorenzo, daring any outsider to enter and meet their own special demise." America's bowed dramatically in his chair, grinning all the while.

There was a moment of awkward silence while the result of the game sunk in. "Well then." England mused, pursing his lips. "We truly are a sorry lot, aren't we?"

"I'll toast to that." Prussia said, holding up an imaginary beer stein and pretending to knock it with England's.

"So what now?"

If anyone would've happened to stumble upon their polyglot party, they would think they were playing human Tetris. Because there were only two beds, America decided that no one would get an actual bed and they would all camp on the floor in a massive nest of blankets.

The living room furniture was shoved against a wall and the hardwood floor was covered completely in blankets and pillows. Each personification tried carving out their own space but in an 11 sq-ft room, that wasn't an option. Yet somehow they made it work, packed together like sardines everyone slept relatively sound.

Until America's phone buzzed an inch from his face. Groggily sitting up, he squinted at the harsh light from the small device. It was a text message from an unknown number, a picture. Inwardly complaining about being woken up at three am, America was about to ignore it for sleep until the picture registered.

It was of him. And England. In a rather… compromising position, or at least it looked that way. Now fully awake, the blonde texted back the first thing that came to mind: Who is this? The sender immediately responded, Call me Bob.

You: And who are you?
Bob: The one who will send this picture out to everyone in that house and more unless you do what I say.

What the hell…? Is this blackmail?

You: What makes you think I'll cooperate?
Bob: There's more than that picture on the line here, America. If you want it gone, get to this address in the next thirty minutes.

This was a trick, it had to be a trick. A ruse set up by the government, another part of the game. But even so… it was still unnerving that 'Bob' knew who he was. An address appeared on the screen and America sighed. Pride and secrets were on the line here, what other choice was there?

You: Do you know who you're messing with?
Bob: Of course I do. Twenty-nine minutes.

America glanced around the room, gaze finally landing on the sleeping Brit in the corner.

You: England's in the picture, he's coming with me.
Bob: Of course. Better get moving, not all Nations are heavy sleepers.

Sensing the end of the conversation, America tip-toed over to England and shook him awake. Almost instantly bleary emerald eyes snapped open, a hand immediately catching the blonde's wrist. America used his free hand to make a shushing gesture and pointed to the door in the kitchen that led to the garage out back. England narrowed his eyes but followed anyway, both leaving the room in almost complete silence.

"What are you doing, git?" England hissed, glancing at the over-sized garage housing four different cars all of relatively old status. America said nothing, just tossing him the phone to see for himself.

"We're going to handle this without letting the others know. Are you coming or not?" America held the door of an old Ford Explorer open and waved him inside. "We don't got all day, dude."

England glanced back at the blackmail on the phone, sighing with exasperation. "The things I let you involve me in… you'd better get us out of here fast, the engine will definitely wake the others."

"Worry about that later dude, come on. Reputations are in jeopardy." They peeled out of the garage, not bothering to waste time closing it, and sped off toward the address.

"Hey, where are you guys?" A box-blonde sat alone in his car, the sole occupant of an empty parking lot.

"Around. Did they suspect anything?"

"Of course not. My disguise was perfect."

"Did you get the address?"

"Yeah, I'll text it to you in a sec. They gave us the all-clear for this right?"

"Not a problem, they're completely okay with it."

"Phase Three tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow."

The blonde smirked. "Aniki's breasts shall be mine."

A/N: And the mystery continues! Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. Does anyone by chance know any good complete "Nations' secret compromised" fics? They are incredibly hard to come by and communities are terrible at doing their jobs.

Footnotes:

1. If you haven't stumbled upon ElizabethScaffie's amazing story Strange Things Happen At Night, go fricken read it because it's so fricken good! It's about the Sicilian mafia in the 70s- hence the footnote- and is definitely one of the best plots I've read on here.