Austria:
Austria flinched as the word pasta echoed around the house for perhaps the fifteenth time in the past three minutes. He rested his head on the key guard of the piano, groaning silently. There had been a reason that pasta had not been allowed when they had all been living in Holy Roman Empire's house.
A soft sigh could be heard from across the room, and Austria glanced up to see Prussia, now sitting on a tall couch, rubbing his forehead.
"Does this happen a lot?" Austria asked, quietly and not really expecting an answer in return.
Red eyes snapped up, but they weren't glaring. "Oh yes. He shows up more and more often these days. Always at inconvenient times. It's like he has a knack for it."
"Has he ever seen you?"
"No." A pained look spread across Prussia's face. "No one but West has even knew I was alive these past sixty years… Except maybe Russia. He knows everything. I'm not quite sure how."
Austria laughed quietly. "Always look up and smile. It's nice to try and pretend that you know where they are."
"Where what are?"
"Russia's cameras."
There was a rest broken only by the background noise of "PAAAASTAAAA!" Austria tried very hard not to smile at the shocked look on his brother's face.
"Cameras. Of course," Prussia finally muttered, rubbing his forehead again.
Austria stared at the former nation. Prussia was actually answering him. Maybe he could…
"What are you going to do to me?" Austria felt his tenor voice leave his lips before he had a chance to really think about saying it.
The movement of Prussia's fingers stopped abruptly. Austria instinctively drew back.
"It hit me like a tidal wave, that moment. Felt as if I was running into concrete, and then everything went black. After a while I could hear and feel, but for four whole years, I was stuck in a sightless coma. When I woke up, it felt as if whole parts of me where gone. I was still me just… not fully. Every day that I wake up I feel as if I have just lost something. And it hurts. Every moment it hurts. Physically and mentally. Stabbing pains. It's not awesome at all. But I'm still alive."
Nervousness stirred in Austria's stomach. "That… that doesn't answer my question."
The alto notes hit Austria's head sharply, like hail battering into him. "Yes it does."
The brunette flinched back, shaking. He could hear the metal rattle around the piano leg as his hand trembled.
The rest that followed was quickly broken by a loud voice from outside the room.
"Germany, let's watch TV!" Staccato steps on the stairs.
"Italy! Down here!"
The steps stopped. "But I'm already halfway up! And the TV in the loft is bigger…" The noise of motion started up again.
Prussia abruptly stood up and walked over to the piano. He knelt down by the bench and Austria felt the pull around his wrist towards the piano leg dissipate before his right hand was pulled behind his back and the cuff snapped around his left wrist as well.
"Stand up," his captor whispered.
The first time that Austria tried to get to his feet, his legs gave out from underneath him and he fell back onto the bench. Slowly, he tried again, leaning his weight on his brother slightly, not enough to be noticed. Prussia led him to the couch and motioned for him to slide underneath as the former nation went to rummage through a cabinet beneath the television.
Rolling underneath the piece of furniture, Austria waited as Prussia returned and draped a blanket over the couch, conveniently hiding its underside. Then the albino hid underneath with Austria just as the door opened.
"Italy, don't –" Austria heard Germany's voice abruptly stop as he saw the lack of his brothers in the room. "Ah well, one show. Then you promise to go back downstairs with me."
"No, no!" Prussia hissed next to Austria. "Go now!"
"Yes Germany!"
Austria felt squished as Italy sat down on the couch.
America:
Estonia's visit had started off with nothing important seeming to happen. The blonde man had talked to the other nations and typed rapidly on the keyboard of the miniature laptop. He had turned down France's offer of food with a smile and joked with Spain, who only returned the favor halfheartedly. Then his phone rang and he listened for a few seconds before hanging up and pressing a key on the computer.
When the laptop turned around America found himself looking into the face of Russia.
"We are streaming a live video conference," Estonia announced. "Mr. Russia would like to talk to you. All of you."
Everyone moved to sit or stand around America, and the nation himself suddenly felt – uncharacteristically, he knew – awkward being in the center of things. Swallowing hard, he inclined his head formally.
"Hello Russia."
America watched as a bright smile lit up the other man's face. "America! How nice to see you! It has been far too long. And it is nice to see you safe again. You two also, England, Hungary. And France! What a brave venture that was! You could stand to learn a few things, however. Canada, that was a wonderful display, as well as Switzerland, of course. Spain, Lichtenstein, fantastic, fantastic." The smile faltered. "I am most upset about Austria though. I knew what he would do, but I did expect some more help on your part convincing him otherwise."
"What were we supposed to do? Prussia was going to shoot him!" America felt heat rush to his face. He was already feeling guilty about all of this, and didn't need someone telling him that his emotion was correct. Some hero he was turning out to be.
Violet eyes stared out from the computer screen. "Switzerland and Canada knew that Austria was unstable upon seeing his brother. He should have been watched more closely. But right now that is beside the point. I need to talk to England."
Shifting his head so that the blond Brit behind him could lean forward, America shared a long glance with Canada. He could tell that his brother was feeling guilty too. The other North American had known that Austria had become "unstable."
"Russia? What do you need?" England's voice was calm and careful; he was clearly trying not to show emotion. Not even surprise at being asked for by Russia.
A beaming lip grin again. "I don't need anything really. Just wondering if you remember an old project of yours."
There was a long pause before America heard England talk again. "You don't mean… You said that was destroyed. All that cold… the ice! Impossible that it survived."
"Ah well, the little bit that I needed was fine. I had it transferred onto more modern technology. Now… I'm just wondering who I should give it to."
America turned to watch England's green eyes widen. "That's… That's not a question!"
Russia tilted his head slightly. "No, it isn't really. In fact, I know now. It wouldn't do any good to give it to him… So yes, that will work nicely. Thank you for your help England."
"No, wait!" England leaned forward even farther just as the screen went black. America could practically smell the history of burnt scones on his former brother's skin.
Raising his hand, America pushed back England slightly before the man fell onto the chair. "What does he mean, England?"
There was a silence. Then, "Back in World War Two Russia wasn't the only spy."
Russia:
Resting his chin on his hands, Russia stared at the box before him. Everything was ready. His ticket was set. He would be leaving Moscow in two hours.
The house was empty. Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus… All out in their respective positions. It was starting to feel lonely. If only Ukraine was around. But her boss and his ways…
Sitting up, Russia brought the box closer and opened it, pulling out an item covered in bubble wrap. It was small. He had put it back in the box after having Estonia transfer the original onto this newer technological wonder this morning. Something had just felt nostalgic about keeping it in the wooden cube.
But now it was simply slid into his pocket as he stood. The one item he was taking. For, after all, he would be back before bed tonight.
As Russia left the office he turned out the lights and pulled out his cell phone. The tall man rarely used the device, it was so annoying having to keep getting used to new technology as the years went by. But he didn't want to be alone when he got back. Russia called up each of his subordinates and Belarus, giving them flight information and instructions to have the heat on and supper ready when he came back.
They'd have dinner all together tonight. Almost like a family. Belarus was his sister but… That monster. With the Baltics there things would be easier. And he wouldn't be lonely.
Russia walked out the door, briefly looking back to make sure that all the lights were off. He locked the door and strode towards the garage.
He had a package to deliver. Personally. To someone currently in Germany.
O.o.O
Authors Note: Things are starting to move a whole lot more! I got a shy comment into my inbox from someone asking about me and my friends and our Hetalia characters. Hug to anyone who can guess who I am! So, this is my first update since school starting. Review please? I am sad with my lack of reviews… Get me past twenty reviews please my lovely stalkers?