America frowned, lips quirking down almost as if pouting, his eyes sweeping slowly around the room. 'Well this is new... and not part of the plan...' Just when everything seemed like it was timing up just right... some guards had come to collect America. Just America... leaving Oliver behind. The Nation had known nothing good was going to come of this, and his placement in this new empty lab only proved it. This wasn't the room they kept Prussia and North Italy in... this wasn't the room he gave Oliver blood transfusions. The little tyke didn't even need one yet. Still, this room was unmistakably and undeniably a lab.
America was also unmistakably and undeniably nude, and strapped down to a cold metal examining table. Just like Prussia and North Italy were... minus all the tubes and wires. Quite obviously, this was a very bad situation. As much as America didn't want to break completely from the plan they'd come up with... it looked like he needed to. Now. If he was immobilized like the other captives then all hope was lost. He'd have to improvise and hope for the best here, he just couldn't risk letting their slim chance die.
He flexed against the restraints, feeling them moving and giving, mildly elated to know he could break free. His strength was nowhere near where he knew it should be, and the fact that he didn't rip through the restraints like paper sent a twist of fear through him. Mixed feelings aside, he continued to move and work at them, trying to keep quiet lest the guards catch wind and pin him down with the threat of gunfire. Stealth was not something one readily associated with him, but that didn't mean he couldn't do it. He preferred overblown charges, rushing forward with guns blazing... but sneaky he could definitely still do.
The door to the lab slid open, and America dropped his hands back to the table at his sides like a guilty child. A solitary man in a labcoat came in, carrying a tray with dishes and syringes on it. There were guards stationed outside the door, America could see that, but no one else entered. The man stared at America, as much as America looked at him, and there was something decidedly expectant in the way the human stared. America wasn't sure what the man was expecting, but he did nothing. Just watched and contemplated whether or not he could get past this man... the guards... to Oliver... to the captive Nations... to the kidnapped humans...
"Hello..." The man said, setting his tray down on a swivel stand, rubbing at the stubble on his chin absently. There was a peculiar look in his eyes as he leaned in a bit, like a kid on Christmas if that kid was hoping for a dissection kit. He pulled over a rolling chair, sitting down absently, his body sinking into a crooked hunched posture. No doubt caused by the temporary foiling of his escape plan, but America found the bad posture really annoying him at the moment. A million lectures from England on his posture rolled through his mind, but America wasn't in the mood to play hypocrite and tell the man to straighten up.
"Hi," he replied, and the man grinned as if America had just done something rather splendid. People generally didn't celebrate when he opened his mouth to speak though.
A close scrutiny of his body began, eyes trailing from head towards toes in a manner that was thankfully not sexually stimulated. Unfortunately, the traveling gaze soon revealed America's handiwork. The man looked down at America's hands, his wrists, the restraints, humming softly to himself. A flash of panic hit the Nation, wondering if the man had caught him out. Indeed, the man scooted and rolled his chair a bit with his heels, moving so he could examine the obviously compromised restraints more closely. Fingers prodded his wrist, and America contemplated grabbing this guy. He didn't want to use a hostage... it wouldn't be heroic at all... but... not succeeding at a rescue was even less heroic, right?
"Was this difficult... pulling them up like this?" America blinked out of his moral debate, startled by the genuine curiosity the man turned on him. There was something strange in the manner the man spoke. It wasn't really an accent, just something weird in the rhythm and pacing of the words. Still, America found he was having a very difficult time trying to place where the man was from.
The man, scientist or doctor no doubt, patiently waited for an answer, apparently just as happy to look at America as get a response. He had no clipboard or notepad, but it was very obvious he'd be taking some mental notes here. America gave him a guileless grin.
"They were like that already," he said simply. The man didn't react much to his words, poking and prodding his wrist, tugging at the restraint before scooting back towards America's head.
"No they weren't, actually. I did have them specifically installed for you, after all," the man said, but it was casual and not at all annoyed. "Now, ah yes right, a pleasure to meet you, America. Or would it be more precise, no I mean to say acceptable, to call you the United States of America?"
America could have made some lame jokes in response, but instead kept silent. Odd for him, most of his fellow Nations would say. Still, perhaps feeling a bit irritable and childish at the moment, the Nation smiled. "The United States of America," he replied, fleetingly wishing his full name was ten times longer. "Make sure you remember the 'The'," he added. Why make things any easier?
The man nodded completely unperturbed and leaned in closer, one hand pulling out a small penlight and the other moving to take away Texas. America turned his head sharply. "Hey, don't touch the glasses buddy."
For the first time the man seemed a bit displeased, frowning for a moment. "If I'm to properly examine you-"
"I don't remember giving you the go ahead for that either, so how about you put that light away?" The man stared at him blankly, as if he wasn't quite understanding what America was saying. The Nation frowned and the man gave a slow blink.
"Were you led to believe you were here on a voluntary basis? Or are you simply dim?" The man scratched at his stubble again, and America cringed at the sound.
"Nah, the abduction clued me in about 'volunteering', but I mean it... you don't mess with... my glasses." It might be best not to refer to his glasses as Texas, just in case. Keep the cards close to the vest and all. The scientist shook his head slowly, giving out a faint sigh and wrinkling his brow as if he wasn't quite sure what to do. He cleared his throat while tapping the penlight against his thigh.
"A full examination is preferable, and will lead to a much safer procedure for you," the scientist intoned dryly as he motioned to the tray. America stretched his neck, trying to gain a better view of just what this man thought he'd be introducing to his system. "Your fellows survived the procedure, but there is no guarantee you will. It really would be best if you allowed me a full investigation."
America scowled. "Ya know what I think would be best? Letting me go." He moved his arm just a bit, dropping his voice low. "I don't think I need to tell you I could get outta here if I wanted to."
The scientist was unimpressed, giving the Nation a flat stare. "I am not a man who likes to play games or make threats, but I can do both if you insist on being difficult. It's your call, The United States of America."
America narrowed his eyes, knowing this moment was too long in coming. He'd taken things slow, he'd tried to find some way to save everyone... but time was a luxury that was gone. He yanked his arms fully free of the restraints, jolting upright on the table and lunging to his feet. The scientist scrambled back and away from him, but America was faster than that. He grabbed the man, hating himself for doing this but thinking only of his duty. He had to get back to his people, and if this man was talking about doing something to him that could kill him, he couldn't just take the risk. Tugging on the man, America started for the door when he felt it.
His eyes snapped wide as he looked down at the syringe sticking out of his side, shocked. He hadn't let the man get close enough to the tray stand to grab anything, so what was this? 'Damn, he had something on him the whole time?' America staggered, already feeling weak and woozy. He wasn't passing out, however, simply starting to go numb. His knees wobbled and he lost his grip on the human, collapsing to the ground. His mind raged, being so aware and helpless as he was. No matter how much he tried, though, he could not get his body to move. Like a corpse he could do nothing but lie there as the man brushed himself off, and he could only stare in vague horror as the man collected his tray and sat down on the floor, apparently happy to conduct his procedure here.
"You know, your sentimentality is what will kill you. Emotions and the like. You let them lead you around, and because of this we have you," the scientist took the syringe to the Petri dish, as if working to collect the sample out for injection. "I do not suffer from that problem. If I were you, I would have escaped immediately. However, I'm glad you did not because now..."
The man was tapping out the air, readying his injection. America couldn't feel the syringe go in, but he could swear he felt something invading his blood stream. The scientist turned to collect another syringe full of the sample, humming softly to himself. "I get to do this."
x 0 x 0 x 0 x
Stomping your feet discreetly wasn't really possible, but as he finally came in from the life draining cold of the world outside, England simply had to. He was frozen to the core, thick winter layers covered with snow and ice. He was amazed his blood was still moving at all, and he was grateful in this moment that he wasn't human. Making the sort of trek the four of them had through Marie Byrd Land was rather insane really. But they hadn't wanted to use any vehicles lest they be detected, and had relied precisely on their inhuman nature to make it work. England knew he and France were probably faring a bit better than South Italy (yes, England was resolved to referring to the Nation as such again) and Germany, but that was no doubt thanks to the claims both had down here. He shivered as he watched Germany seal the door they'd come through shut, and all were on high alert even half frozen in case any sort of alarms went off. England had done his best to disable them, but thickly gloved and shaking hands weren't entirely dexterous.
"I-I... t-think..." The frog was trying to speak, but he gave that up pretty quickly when his teeth refused to stop chattering. For a moment they all were pretty useless, moving their bodies and rubbing at limbs and waiting for the heat of the facility to begin seeping into their bones. It wasn't as though they had time to spare, but they were pretty useless as they were now, and it'd be ridiculous to make a stupid mistake now because they were clumsy from the cold.
When at last England didn't feel like his body was about to curl in on itself and shiver him to death he started to remove some of his layers. They needed to move quickly and quietly, and the snow gear would be cumbersome. The others started to do the same, and though he could still feel the sting of the cold on him he knew he was coming more in control of himself.
"I think," France tried again, and he seemed to have no trouble speaking now. Pity. "That we have not been detected."
England would have rolled his eyes and said something nasty at that but Germany was already pulling out the blueprint he'd managed to 'obtain' of the facility (and none but perhaps South Italy would have enjoyed hearing just how he'd done that). Everyone gathered close after hiding their gear as well as they could. In and out as fast as they could go, it was the most they could hope for. In silence Germany used his finger to trace along the paper, reminding them all where they were and where they were going to try first.
They could cover more ground swiftly if they broke up, moved as individuals or teams, but they were dealing with individuals that'd successfully abducted America and Prussia. As annoying as both those individuals were... they weren't pushovers or easy targets. Getting caught alone might be impossible to escape from. Moving as one unit was also dangerous, for nearly the same reason. If they were all together, all could be caught at once. It'd been a difficult debate, weighing the pros and cons, and it'd been decided that they'd move as a singular unit to a certain point. Then they'd branch out.
Moving through halls and corridors, the Nations kept alert. They could only speculate where the captured Nations might be, and were heading towards the first likely location. It was a larger room, but one that was easily defendable. They planned their approach, crouching and drawing firearms. There were guards but they seemed to have been lulled into a false sense of security based on little action. England would have guessed the guards would be more on edge, surely America had to be causing a riot somewhere. He couldn't fathom his former colony quietly playing prisoner. As he knew first hand, if America wanted freedom, he got it, even if it meant blood. The years might have taught him to fight in other ways, but that tenacity surely had to be there. Which... made the base's quiet atmosphere perhaps a bit more ominous.
With silent hand signals they prepared to move in, a swift distraction and a near silent take down. It wasn't too difficult to take the guards down, and snatching up their keycards, the Nations moved into the room. You could feel the collective tension between them all as they looked about, pulses racing with hope. Could they be so lucky? That hope was quickly dimming though, for surely they would have sensed the captives. They could, faintly... but not enough for them to be in this room.
The crowd of surprised faces, kept in cells before them... were human. All of them.
England swallowed his disappointment down, bitter pill that it was. Stiff upper lip and all that. Italy Romano was quite vocal in his disappointment, vulgarities flowing from his mouth in his native tongue. This seemed to catch the attention of one of the humans, who rushed to the fore of his cell, calling back in Italian. Romano's tirade ended for just a moment, the Nation scowling fiercely as he listened. Germany listened intently as well, understandably well versed in the language. Both Nations moved towards the bars, and in a moment England felt it. A tiny tug, a tiny connection. He scanned the humans huddled behind the bars, some shouting, some simply watching. Citizens... he had citizens in here. All four Nations were nearing various cells, drawn by instinct to their human charges.
"Hello... if you speak English, please come forward," he didn't have to wait long. Whatever these people had been brought here for, they knew subconsciously to trust their Nation, they sprang forward with trust they'd never be able to put into words, uttering words of relief and believing they were about to be rescued. Well, of course they were. He was in the middle of getting the story of what had happened out of a young lady, being told about a kidnapping and a horrible (and idiotic) propaganda program they were all being forced through, when a man rushed his way forward. He certainly wasn't one of England's citizens, but he seemed frenzied and worried half to death.
"Sir, sir!" He came right up to the bars, his accent pegging him as one of America's. England stepped closer, eager to glean some news of America from this citizen. "You're here to get us out, right?"
"Yes, absolutely," he said, and the words had barely left the England's lips before the man spoke up again.
"Al! You have to find Al!" The man shook his head, obviously trying to regain his wits. The man swallowed to compose himself, England swallowed to clear the lump that'd formed in his throat upon hearing the shortened version of the human alias he'd given America so very long ago. "There's a young man, teen probably, his name is Alfred. Blond hair, blue eyes with glasses... they took him away and I haven't seen him again. Please, I don't know why they took him, it doesn't look like they've singled anyone else out, but you've got to save him." The fervor in the man's eyes was impressive, it was a look that always humbled a Nation to see in their own citizens. No doubt America would have been proud.
Drawing himself as tall and straight as he could, England nodded. "I promise you, sir, we will find him. We won't leave here without him."
The man stared him long and hard in the eyes, weighing his words and resolve, weighing the responsibility of saving a Nation on him really. England, of course, could bear such a responsibility. The man nodded, relaxing a bit. "If... if for some reason he doesn't trust you, if he's worried or something, you tell him Bill sent you for him. Got it?"
England chanced a small smile. "Got it." He moved back to a couple of his citizens, assuring them he'd be right there, then moved to where the other three Nations had clustered together. They stood around a control panel, no doubt the one that would unlock the cells. France looked over at his approach, and the tension in his eyes let England know there'd been some quiet arguing. "What's going on?" He asked, hoping to be brought up to speed quickly. Now wasn't the time for a debate.
"We need to fucking find my brother," Romano snapped, and France sighed dramatically.
"Yes, and we need to assist these citizens as well. Finding a way to get them all out of here safely is going to take quite a bit of time and plan-"
"We don't have time for this!" Romano spat back. France huffed in annoyance, and Germany stared at the control panel as if it was an abomination. It certainly added complications to their plans. Saving the citizens, not the panel itself of course.
"Saving these citizens would jeopardize our ability to rescue Veneziano, Prussia, and America," the German said, though the tone in his voice showed his internal struggle. Even if it was only a handful, abandoning citizens wasn't something a Nation could do easily. Had Romano's other half not been in danger, no doubt the answer wouldn't have seemed so clear to him. England frowned, puzzling this over.
"Well..." he said slowly, reasonably. "We'd intended to split up at some point... may as well be now. Some of us stay here, work on a rescue plan for these citizens. The others continue searching."
France gave him a weary stare. "And just who do you intend to leave behind here?" He waved his hand at the three of them, not waiting for a response. "I certainly know that those two won't stay here, and no doubt you want to rush off to save America." England opened his mouth, but found he couldn't argue that. France ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Very well! Leave this part to-"
An alarm pierced the room, lights switching from bright white to a blinking red. The Nations flinched, Romano swore, and England had a pretty little set of curses to utter, too. The humans in the room started to panic and shout, languages nearly drowned out by the wailing noise battering at their ears. England shot a glance at the control panel for the doors, but none of them had touched it yet. So what the hell had set off the alarm? A fight broke out in one of the cells, and England raced over. None of his citizens were in the cell, but after all these years there were few languages he was unfamiliar with. Besides... the scene alone would have been completely clear, even without words.
One man was being harassed, shoved and kicked forward. Furious shouting and gesturing brought England's gaze down to the small device being ripped from the man. It was a communicator... and this man had been a plant. He'd signaled for the alarm.
England ran back to the other Nations, just in time to see Germany start working at the control panel. He scowled as he worked, shooting a sharp look over his shoulder. "We have to move, and now. France, get all of these people out of here."
France nodded his head, though the stress he felt was obvious. It would have been one thing to get everyone out when they still had the element of surprise... but now he had to organize and lead all these panicked citizens... when who knew what sorts were going to be heading for them? It was a near impossible request, and the look Germany shot England conveyed that the man knew it, too... knew it and had a silent request for England. Scowling, England debated for just a moment. It wasn't what he wanted to do... but it was what he knew had to be done just as much as the German.
"I'll find a route for you to take them all," he bit out, adjusting the radio frequency of the communicators they were all using. It'd tune him in to the frog specifically. He shot a look at Germany, dangerous and full of heat. "You two had better find America as well," he demanded, and then he was running. He drew out his sidearm just in case, darting down a path different from the one they'd taken in here. There was no way they could lead humans out the way they'd come, they'd all freeze and die. So he had to find some sort of transport, whatever method that'd been used to bring these people here. From what he recalled of the blueprints, this seemed the right direction.
After many twists and turns and long hallways, a shout had him dropping to his knees, ducking just in time to avoid the spray of gunfire that flew over his head. England needed only a moment to see the small group who'd run across him outnumbered him and had superior firepower. He needed to escape. 'But, if I can draw them after me, it'll buy the others time.' He took one moment to fire a couple shots at them, establish he was a true threat, before he turned and sprinted. Nations might not be godly beings with a slew of superpowers to get them by (the odd exceptions obviously popping up here and there), but he knew he could outpace a human any day. And... speaking of 'powers'...
Casting his gaze about, he tried to spot any Fae or mystical creatures that might exist here. Anyone he might ask to play as his eyes and ears. His typical companions hadn't seemed to follow him here, or if they had perhaps they were already doing his bidding. He ducked down another hall quickly, in no immediate danger but knowing it was only a matter of time. The stupid alarm nearly caused him to miss the frog's voice in his ear, and he brought up a hand to block out the extraneous sound.
"England... we need to move, have you found a route yet?" Just as he was about to snap back that he would have told the frog already if he had, England rounded a corner and nearly fell over in his haste to stop. His mouth caught open as his eyes widened, jolting at the sounds that managed to explode over the wailing alarm. France's voice in his ear meant nothing as he watched the men open fire, listened to the barrage of bullets let loose, and watched as America's bare body twitched back a couple steps. Blue eyes managed to find England's green for just a moment before America fell, hitting the ground and curling up over... something.
He didn't even have to think about this before his body reacted, his hand moved. He took aim at the men down the hall, the man facing and advancing on the bleeding Nation on the other end. He didn't hesitate. England opened fire.
A/N:
It took a bit, but here's the next chapter. I normally love typing up fight/action scenes, but admit to feeling lazy about here. I wanted the chapter out more than I wanted to get into 'epic battle typing'. I know, bad place to leave off, right? Yea.
If I didn't manage to respond to any reviews left to me this round I apologize. was being weird recently, and well... I got a bit snared in other things. But they're appreciated, those reviews, always. Even if I fail to respond.