Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia nor any of the characters. The medical stuff in this has been stretched to almost not possible. But he is a nation so medical stuff is different.

Trigger warning: There is character death in this, as well as scenes that some may find a bit gory(ish), talks of battle and killing.

Note: I do not know any sort of magic anything, but this is how I wanted it to go. Thank you guys for being understanding and reading this. There is only one more chapter after this. Maybe two, not sure. Also this chapter will bounce between worlds so be prepared for it.

Also please leave reviews if ya can, they really do help writers like me know if what we are writing is good or even being read. It also helps us improve our writing when we get constructive criticism. Thank you all again!

Enjoy!

Chapter 10 -.-.-.-.-.-.- Did I help? -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sealand rubbed his eyes, trying to let the world come back into focus. What a weird dream, a white room with different colors walking around him. He couldn't say the place was familiar but something about it struck a nerve as somewhere he is supposed to be.

Getting up from the bed he didn't remember getting into, Peter dressed and left the room. Memories of the night before had him walking toward the dining hall, hoping that Danmark would be there. He messed up last night, he knew that.

Oh, how he wanted to pretend nothing happen last night and move on, or just hide in his room and not see any of them again. Taking a deep breath he walking into the room, glancing around he only saw Danmark seated at the table. The older man looked up, a scowl crossed his features before he went back to eating his food.

"Danmark, may I join you?"

All Peter got was a nod, but he would take it. Shyly he took the seat he normally sits in for meals. The silence was almost deafening. How did he go about saying sorry for how he spoke to Danmark? This was nothing like apologizing to his Papa for misbehavior.

"Um, Danmark. I...I uh..."

"We are going riding, get your cloak once you are done eating."

Peter just nodded, he knew a lecture was coming. In the months being here, he had started to feel rather grown up, but now he felt like a naughty little twelve-year-old child. So they both ate quietly, letting the moment for talking wait.

After their meal, and addressing the others about their ride, Denmark took Sealand to the stables, but instead of helping the younger nation get his saddle he just grabbed his.

"Youll ride with me. Lead my mare outside."

Peter just nodded, leaving to get the rather large horse from the stall. Trying not the let the bit of fear stop him from disappointing Danmark again. The Horse saw Sealand walk toward her, she started to paw at the gate. She snorted, seeming a bit agitated.

"Um, Mathias, she won't let me get her."

The taller teen walked over and rubbed the horse's nose, that seemed to calm her. But just enough, Denmark still pulled her out and brought her to get hitched up. Sealand stood out of the way as he watched Mathias saddle the horse.

"Danmark, I want to apologize for last night. What I said was really mean, even if what you said was also mean. I don't have the history of war like you do. I just..."

"Sealand."

Denmark spoke so softly that Peter almost didn't hear.

"You are not the only one who forgets. Sometimes I only see my history or the history of my brothers. And you fit in so well here, it didn't feel like you only came to us months ago. It felt like you have always been our brother. I forgot that you are from England's seas that he is your brother first. And I am Sorry."

Mathias turned to face Peter. A small smile on his face.

"I am sorry I said those things to you, and I also accept your apology. We are family, and not even death can take that away."

Sealand ran up to Denmark and hugged him tightly, he was family. In this time and in the other. He knew now that he belongs with the Nordics, that they were his family no matter what. Throughout the troubles with his heart, through the fainting spells, through the fear of not knowing if he would ever not feel like a burden, then even now through everything that has happened in this time.

He was family.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"You are right. I cannot believe this."

England stepped back from the hospital bed, his hand retracting from Sealand chest. Romania and Norway stood behind him, the two looking through a stack of books Norway had brought from his home.

"I believe that the collection of magic could be causing strain on his heart. If he would have been taught how to use magic he would have been able to keep it flowing instead of collecting."

"I didn't even know he possessed magic!"

"Think about it, England," Romania began never once looking up from his book. "Micronations arent like regular nations, they weren't already existing. They were created. Split from the nation, instead of just found and added to the country. So Sealand is a piece of you, so it makes sense that he would get some of your magic."

England sighed, he never really thought about micronations that way. They really were just parts of their mother nation.

"So how do we get the magic to flow from his heart without him being awake?"

Norway looked up from his book.

"That is why I called you two here. I would not have bothered if I knew how to do it. Also, if it weren't something as fragile as a heart I would have tried what I know."

Englands face deadpanned. Of course, if any of them did know there wouldn't be any need for the three of them to be in Peters room, much to the annoyance of the nurses.

So they all searched, looking through ancient books and newer less accurate books for anything. Most of the books helped explain how to help a willing and conscious person to move energy. It was rather frustrating, they spent hours researching and even once or twice testing things that sounded maybe close. Thankfully Sealand heart monitor helped them to see if there were any negative effects.

This is how Sweden and Finland found them. They had been informed by Norway about his suspicions and how he was bringing others in to help. Tho the two fathers knew nothing about magic nor did they really believe in it. But at this point, they were willing to let the three try, if it meant their child would wake up and be normal.

"I take it there hasn't been much luck?"

Finland said it sympathetically as he handed them coffees. Sweden handed England a tea, sipping his own cup of tea leaving coffee to the others.

"None, this is just becoming one big kerfuffle."

"If you would stop assuming his magic is exactly like yours, we may have made some progress."

Norway snapped at England, for what seemed like the hundredth time. Finland smiled and encouraged Lukas to drink the coffee, knowing it would calm his nerves, the Nordics knew the Norwegian was a different person without it.

"Perhaps a break would do you three some good, why don't you go and get some fresh air."

Reluctantly England stepped away only encouraged by Romania who was more than excited to get out of the ever-shrinking room. One the two were out of the room Lukas seemed to relax a bit. He sat down in the furthest chair and tipped his head back with his eyes closed.

"As much as I need the help, relying on those two has proven to straining."

"I underst'nd your need to f'nd a w'y to help. But you c'nt stress yourself 'n the prosses."

"I understand this."

Sweden shook his head and moved to sit on the bed next to Sealand, holding the boy's hand while he watched Finland and Norway chat. Berwald had started making it a habit to hold his son's hand when they arrived, in hope that he would get more proof his son was gonna wake up, or even to be right there if he did. Sweden watched as Norway tried to explain to Finland about his suspicion about their son's condition. Secretly the swede hoped that it really was some kind of magic and that it could be easily cured as they claim. He was ready for life to go back to the way it was.

He smiled to himself, if anything from this whole thing was learned, most of the nations with micronation started to appreciate their small actions a little more. With the knowledge that they aren't as immortal like the rest of the nations, the micronations were not overlooked as often. Life still happened and they are, in the end, only micro nations, but they have been accepted by those who didn't have any.

As if hearing Swedens thoughts, Sealands hand twitched beneath his.

"Lukas 'nd your br'ther 're gonna find a w'y to g't you b'tter."

Berwald whispered so he didn't interrupt the other two Nordics as they conversed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Finland! Hurry please!"

Peter ducked behind the horse, its dead body not giving much cover from the arrows being loosed his way. The sound of swords clanging together, the hollers of charging and dying men, every sound sent fear racing through Sealands heart. He once wondered what it would have been like to have a history with victories in wars, noble acts in battle, or even be a major ally in a great battle. His innocent mind thought it would have been so much fun.

Now he wished he could be back home just listening to the stories. He never knew there was so much fear, so much noise, so much silence. He could swear his heart was beating in his ears.

"Danmark! I don't think I can..."

"Keep your head down! Finland is on his way." Denmark turned toward where the Finnish man was making his way down the hill with Norge.

"B'hind you!"

Denmark looked behind him, a soldier came running toward him with a broad sword swinging down from the man's shoulder. Shifting his ax upward to block the sword with the handle, swiftly climbing to his feet, Mathias used the man's momentum and tripped the soldier forward. Bringing his ax down into the men back, the sound of squelching blood made Sealands stomach turn. Ducking back down, Peter with shaking hands placed an arrow in his bow.

"Come on Sea, you can do it. You have to help them." He whispered to himself.

Before he stood back up, he took a moment to look around the field where this bloody massacre was taking place. Only a mear two weeks ago he and Denmark were riding through these fields and woods, laughing, playing, and just enjoying the day. Then they got word of an army just outside the borders of Denmark, and they had a mere week and a half to gather men and prepare for battle. The house had been strained and busy. Denmarks and Sweden's bosses had met and conversed battle plans and strategies. Norway's boss had also shown up, providing what he could.

Iceland had clung to Sealand during this time since the older nations were busy with preparations. Peter had tried to distract the young island with games and stories, which had helped in the early days, but as the battle drew closer it was harder and harder to focus on fun. In that time Peter also had to train more himself, he was deemed old enough by Swedens leader to assist in the fighting. Much to the displeasure of the personification.

Taking a deep breath, Sealand stood and loosed an arrow toward the first enemy he saw. He never watched, not wanting to know if he killed anyone or not, Peter decided to stay ignorant. He would aim, loose then turn away. He continued to repeat this process til Finland was beside him, giving him a new round of arrows.

"Pysy vahvana."

Finland pressed his forehead to Sealand reassuringly as he whispered the small phrase. Then he was off into the field swinging his sword to the men just to the left of where Sweden and Denmark where.

"I'm trying to stay strong Mama, but I am too scared. I want to go home."

Tears stung his eyes as he whispered the words back to Finland, even though the teen was too far away to hear. He sunk back down behind the dead animal, trying hard to get another arrow to draw, but the tears were making it hard. He was a micronation that didn't exist yet, so did his body run by the same rules as they did where he came from?

He didn't want to die, he wanted to find a way home, he wanted to see his real family again, to have his Mama and Papa hug him and tell him everything was alright. This fighting was far different from defending Britain from the German planes and ships. No this was to close and personal, he could see and hear everything.

Peter stood, but his shaking hands wouldn't work, he couldn't draw the bowstring. He could only watch.

Norway, who had run out before Finland, swung his mace with amazing speed crashing it into the bodies and heads of the enemy. Sweden had his customary quarterstaff, his brute strength alone causing each swing to bring horrible damage to each man it hit. Denmark's ax showed no mercy as well, slicing and hacking every soldier it came in contact with. Finland, with his quick speed and small stature, made his sword a force to be reckoned with.

Blood stained each of their faces, a look of concentrated anger and determination as they continued to move forward and attack, made Sealand realize just how much war did affect people. And how he so badly wanted out of it.

Peter tried to stay focused, he needed to help. The only way for this to end was for them to win the battle, and they needed everyone to be doing their part.

Him, included.

"Peter get down!"

Sealand glanced over at Norway, his mistake for not following the first command, an arrow flew past him mere inches from his shoulder. Quickly he flung himself to the ground. His tears falling faster mixing with the mud and blood.

"I wanna go home!"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Iceland sat back in the chair away from Sealands bed. He was stuck watching while the rest of the Nordics finished sending England and Romania away. Well, nicer than that, but Emil wished they would just send them away. It was too crowded with all of them there, but at least they had found a supposed cure, once Sealand woke up they would see if it truly cure him. He loved his brothers but everyone, including people who weren't his brothers, cramped into one room was too much for him to handle. But now that everyone was gone the room seemed too big, and the beeping was starting to get annoying. To bad the beeping was a good thing.

"Will you just wake up already. I'm tired of coming to this place"

When no response came he sighed and sunk deeply into the chair. Finland better hurry and get back.

Emil was just about asleep when there was a low mumble sound coming from the other side of the room. He sat up a little straighter and listened close. Was it a nurse outside the door? The mumble happened again. It was almost a whisper of a sound. Iceland slowly walked over to Peter, glancing down at him.

"Sealand?"

Emil held his breath, waiting for something he wasn't even sure was real. He could have just...

"Home."

He knew it.

It was Sealand.

It was a quite harsh whisper of a sound, but it was his voice. Iceland wasn't sure what to do. Should be run and get the others? Call them? Get a nurse? What is he supposed to do?

He had to keep calm and stop his racing heart. This could mean nothing, could just be like when Sealand started gripping everyone's hands. Where the progress was just small and meaningless.

"Papa."

That's it, he needed to get the others.

Emil ran from the room.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He ran as fast as he could. Sealand couldn't let Svergie get hurt. the older teen didn't see the man sneaking up behind with the knife. Sealand was gonna help, his racing heart and burning eyes weren't gonna stop him.

His Papa needed him.

Taking an arrow from his quiver, Peter tackled from the guy stabbed him in the side. The holler from the wounded soldier alerted Sweden, who turned and slammed the man's head with his quarterstaff. He looked at Peter with worried eyes, the boy was no good in the middle of the fight with no cover. His long-range weapon was useless out here.

"Go! ya need t' hide!"

Sealand didn't need to be told twice, he didn't want to be on the battlefield, but he also wanted to help he wanted...

A thud to his chest stopped all thoughts. He looked at Sweden, the teen's face was shocked terror.

.-.-.-.-.-.

Finland's heart was pounding, Emil had run into them as soon as they had gotten off the elevator. He said Peter had spoken, so the Nordics made their way back to Peters room as fast as they could. Only when they got there, Peter wasn't talking. No, he looked like he was having a nightmare. His face was pinched in distress, his forehead was covered in sweat, and his hands were gripping the sheets with white knuckles.

"No."

The raspy whisper left the boys lips. Sweden and Finland were right there, trying to sooth the boys talking quietly and running their fingers through his hair.

Peter suddenly stopped. Even his heart seemed to pause for a beat before the only sound in the room was the steady beating of the heart monitor.

.-.-.-.-.-.

Sealand didn't feel anything. He couldn't hear anything nor could a sound pass through his lips. He looked down and saw an arrow lodged in his chest. Right, where his heart should be.

Oh.

He looked back up and saw Sweden reaching for him, but the world was already shifting. Peter was pretty sure he was falling, weird how he couldn't even feel the breeze as he fell.

He hit the ground, eyes gazing up at the sky, the white clouds seem to expand, consuming everything.

Everything was white and quiet.

Peaceful.