Chapter 10
Russia and Canada sat in a room sipping tea.
"You know, some readers are confused by the author. They don't specify how, but let's take a quick wrap-up of where we are." Canada suggests.
"Okay, first up, why are we the ones who have to explain?"
"Because Warfang doesn't intend to use us for the story otherwise."
"Ah."
"Well, Warfang has had trouble writing this story. She didn't want a predictable plot line."
"So she decided to invent magical pearls that create a world Alfred lives in and goes insane in. The pearls have a history with England and France, who apparently sealed away the pearls before Alfred was a colony. They, however, do not remember the details."
"Da, very few details. Perhaps the pearls changed their memory as well?"
Canada ulped. "Let's not go around giving her ideas, now. So she decided that one pearl was good, the other pearl was evil. Your typical black means evil and white means good story. We're guessing that the 'good' pearl was rescued by Alfred, and is now using him as the instrument to level the scales. Poor Alfred."
"Da, poor Alfred. The hero of his own story and he doesn't even know it."
"Also, if you have any other questions, ask Warfang directly, and we'll respond!
"Ah, Canada, how can we reply when she intends for this to be the last chapter."
"What!"
"She does intend to make this the last chapter. She has ideas for other fandoms, and knows that if she starts working on them, it could be years before she gets back to this story."
"M…maple…"
"Of course, I think she is lazy and easily distracted da."
Warfang has an IDEA to marry Russia and Belarus in a fanfic. Because you know what a theoretical physicists says, that in stories could be windows into an existing parallel universe.
"Or she is working on college homework!"
Warfang has IDEA for Ivan to be the one walking down the aisle.
Russia starts crying. Warfang has IDEA. Let's not pick on Russia. Let's finish up Fish in the Sea! I do not own Hetalia!
To all of you who have read this far, to all of you who have reviewed, Favorite'd, Story Alert, and enjoyed the series, thank you so much!
On with the Story!
Francis swore that was the last time he ever allowed Arthur to hypnotize him. He was nowhere in England, he was very damn certain, and the gravity of Alfred missing was a poor time to pull a prank!
Francis was on a ship. And all of the men that were around him were once his citizens. Francis would be comforted by this fact, except for the part where all of them were long dead.
"Sacre bleu." Francis growled under his breath. Alfred was missing, Francis was stuck on a boat straight out of his pirate days, and- was that Arthur on a raft in the middle of the ocean?
"Set a course to rescue the stranded man!" Francis hollered out to his crew. They shortly drew alongside the raft, where Arthur glared up at Francis.
"As glad as I am to be rescued-"
"But of course you will be treated well! It is not everyday you come back from certain death!"
Francis had no idea how close he came to stating exactly what had happened in the world, but he readily accepted the Nation onto his ship.
"But you must tell me how you came onto the raft."
"Well, I made land, and rather than stay put, I floated out into the sea."
Francis struck the projection across the face. "Do not lie to me. There is only my crew here."
"I am on my own."
"Liar!" Francis backhanded the projection. "No sane man would leave the safety of an island and risk the open sea in a raft that small!"
The projection wavered in front of him. In fact, the entire ship blinked out of existence and only white existed around Francis. Then everything came back into focus.
"I suggest one of you bring him some water. The days spent alone have clearly addled him. I will speak to you again."
Francis stormed off, leaving the not Arthur in the hands of his crew.
Closing the door behind him, Francis sat down and yanked at his hair. How did that happened, and what had caused it?
Francis had a sneaking suspicion that the last three weeks spent on researching one magical pearl was about to bite him in the derriere.
Of, if only he knew he was bit, chewed, and swallowed.
Alfred coughed and hacked. He was dumped in the middle of the ocean, and some pearl was messing with his head!
He was certain of it!
He was quite certain that he had to find Arthur and save him, because a great storm had swept through and washed him off the island!
Wait….
There was something he was forgetting…
Ah well. First rescue Arthur, then he could sit down and remember what we couldn't, because he was a hero like that!
Grinning about his plan of action, Alfred sped off into the ocean.
How the heck was he going to find Arthur? It wasn't as though he had an Arthur-radar that was going to find him! Maybe he should build one (of course, he would give it an awesome name, like caller i.d.) just to find Arthur. Or maybe he could use sonar to find out what was around him, just like dolphins did.
Taking a deep breath, Alfred forced the air up through his upper throat into the ocean. The sound broke away from Alfred and left him. He hung in the water, gently swimming forward, as the sound he had made bounced back to him. Sharks up ahead, but no Arthur.
There was another object further ahead than the sharks. It was big enough to be a ship!
That's right; some sharks would feed on the refuse tossed overboard. Maybe Arthur was on that ship.
Alfred grinned, swimming to the sharks and heading after the ship. He reached the ship by nightfall, the sharks no longer following the ship, searching out food with less competition.
He quickly approached the ship, swiftly climbing up it. He wondered where to start looking for Arthur.
"Oi, git."
Checking behind him heroically was the best place to start. He turned around to see Arthur behind him.
"Arty! I missed you."
"I was really worried about you. Francis and I are worried about how to get you home." The real Arthur crossed his arms.
"Do you know what I've been through the past few minutes? First you and Francis get sucked into the pearl, then Francis shows up all covered in blood, and the next thing I know, I am the one getting pulled into the pearl without so much as a 'by your leave'."
Alfred scratched his head.
"Did you get delirious without me, 'cause you're talking kind of crazy right now."
"GIT! Did you forget already! This world isn't real. Just you and me are real, Francis already got spat out for killing the projection! The pearl is frantically trying to keep this illusion believable. Like that bloody movie you like, The Matrix? Except it's not robots, it's that stupid pearl you're wearing."
Arthur stood up from leaning against the rail. "Now let's go home."
Alfred stared at Arthur.
"Arthur, I'm really touched. But I think that you need to lie down. The sea is obviously putting you out of your right mind. What the heck is a movie? And in that case, what the heck is The Matrix?"
Arthur gapped at him. How the heck did you convince someone that they were in an illusion if they had no basis for comparison?
Maybe he could ask Alfred how he got here? No, that only worked for people who were dreaming.
Arthur was racking his brains for a way to get Alfred home that he missed the taller nation picking him up and carrying him into the quarters.
When he realized that Alfred was barricading the door, Arthur gulped.
Now of all times his brain skipped out on him for a trip to the ocean floor. Or the gutter.
Alfred turned around. "Alright, we aren't leaving until you realize that this is reality."
Arthur felt his brain blank while his stomach plummeted. Alfred thought he was crazy. That two sentient pearls weren't having some kind of turf war around them.
How the heck did he convince Alfred to wake up? The git relied on his own gut as much as common sense, and when the two agreed (as they seem to be to Alfred and to Arthur's mounting horror) Alfred proceeded with what he thought or knew to be true.
It didn't mean that the other nation was always right.
Arthur paced frantically.
"Whoa, Arty, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you."
What to do, what to do? What could he do? He was losing Alfred to some insipid, odious, menacing pearl!
Arthur despaired. He could escape. But Alfred would be trapped. But if he stayed, Francis would be haunted by the thought that he had killed Arthur before he realized that he had killed the projection- and then sent the real Arthur to his doom.
But was it so horrible here? It would be just him and Alfred….
He never got such precious time with Alfred, even when he was a colony….
There were always other affairs that were pulling him away as an Empire…
Here he could spend the rest of his life with Alfred and not worry…
Why was he here again? Wasn't there something important that he had to take care of?
"Hey Arty, are you okay?" The voice broke into his thoughts. Arthur lifted his head and looked at Alfred. The feeling of a fog whispering at the edge of his thoughts was plaguing him, but his focus was on Alfred.
Why was he focusing on Alfred?
Alfred's face crinkled. His hand came over and he brushed the hair out of England's face, laying a hand his forehead. The other hand made the familiar sweep to his own forehead.
"Hmm, you don't feel warm or hot."
The hand on Alfred's face….Alfred's beautiful face…
"Where are your glasses? Where's Texas?"
Alfred blinked and stared at Arthur.
"Why do you think I'm crazy? You're the one acting strange here, Alfred. You say you worry about me- what about the others that you've made sick with worry? Do you know what the economy will be like if you don't come back?"
Alfred stared blankly at him.
"And why are you calling me Arty! That bloody nickname aggravates me to no end! My name is Arthur Kirkland, and don't you forget it!"
Alfred stared at Arthur for a moment.
And then the ship winked out of existence.
They were standing in the white nothingness. They cast no shadow. Arthur looked around.
"Alfred, are you seeing this?"
"Yeah. Arthur, how long have I…"
"You've been gone nearly a full three months. We are in a panic. Also, don't tell anyone, but I think that Russia's depressed."
Alfred snorted. "Yeah, he's probably upset over our little game nights getting canceled."
Arthur shrugged. "Well, shall we?"
Linking his hand into Arthur's, Alfred began to walk.
They walked a hundred paces. Two hundred. Three hundred. Arthur began to notice that Alfred shortened his stride while he lengthened his so that they didn't have to count two of Arthur's steps for one stride of Alfred's.
Four hundred paces. Five hundred paces.
Nearing six hundred paces, a crack appeared above them. Well, relative to their position, it was above them. It was like floating in space, there was no surface to propel from, they just felt like they were moving forward.
A bit of a contradictory statement, but not one that they bothered to linger on. Their 'world' was already falling apart, going mad right now was not going to help.
Alfred leaned into Arthur. "Think you could see where that goes to if you got on my shoulders?"
Arthur nodded, then held his arms up in the manner that Alfred had held himself to be picked up when he was a colony.
The thought sickened him. He was going back to a world where he would have to share Alfred with others…but it was for the better.
Alfred would be happy again.
The crack deepened above him.
Sure, he barley saw Alfred as much as he wanted to, but if he was honest with himself, he didn't really need to have afternoon tea by himself…Alfred could be civil for five minutes.
The edges above them were curling over his head.
Ah, to hell with it. It wasn't as though his parliament would fall to pieces if he left for a vacation after the stress. He could spend all the time he wanted to with Alfred and help run the country.
Light fell through the black rift, illuminating it's sides and falling into the white surroundings.
"Well, what do you know." Alfred commented. "Our shadows are above us."
That was the last cohesive thought before Alfred and Arthur were falling through the crack.
After he had killed the projection, Francis was aware of a blinding whiteness and being back in England because it sounded like England and certain wounds were bothering him from the sudden entry.
Francis had stammered out what had happened, and Arthur had gone into the pearl. According to Ireland, he just leant over the pearl and scowled at it.
Then he wasn't standing there. That was about fifteen minutes ago. Then Alfred fell out of the pearl with Arthur in his arms.
They were both exhausted, and after making certain that both pearls were under lock and key, they crashed into the bed.
Ireland notified his brothers to take down the barrier and announce to the world that Alfred was recovered, but was in no condition to go back to work.
Francis kept his eyes wrapped and stayed in the house as well, wondering what happened. Why had the pearl taken Alfred hostage? How had they escaped?
Two weeks later, Francis was able to see again, but he still wore sunglasses. He still woke up screaming and started to sleep in the same room that Arthur slept in.
After figuring out the nature of the nightmares, Arthur gave Francis a severe lecture and a cup of tea. The nightmares didn't stop.
But Francis wasn't quite so scared to go to sleep anymore.
Alfred loved swimming. He could easily leave anyone in the bubbles, even without using his national strength.
Arthur spent minutes to hours in fear that Alfred would swim away and leave him.
Alfred had laughed at him for this fear until Arthur started sobbing. Then Alfred spent the next three hours holding Arthur and promising that he wouldn't leave Arthur.
He finally promised to take Arthur with him the next time he went to the English Channel. Arthur swam with Alfred before he realized that maybe the magic was just working its way through Alfred's body.
Nothing to worry about.
He still followed Alfred every time he went swimming, even if all he did was read on the beach.
All three nations ignored the fact that two pearls were locked away in a box, planted into a chest, sealed, and then carried away by Russia to a barren wasteland and buried far from the sea.
After all, there were plenty of fish in the sea that the pearls could take advantage of.
Author's Note: And now that I have finished it, I have the strangest urge to write a sequel….no! Absolutely not! I have nearly fifty other ideas for stories to write in this fandom alone! I have tests next Wednesday! I…am going to log the idea and get back to studying.
Thank you again for reading!