Taken By Day
Haha, have I mentioned lately how much I want to hug all you adorabloodthirsty people? Because I really, really do xD
It would appear that you all were quite satisfied with my fight scene which is rather a relief considering that was literally my first fight scene ever? :D
Side Note: I'm probably going to begin working on multiple fics at once, since that's pretty much what I'm doing now but without posting for anything else currently, that and we're nearing the end~!
VOTING BONE; … I have nothing. :U
– CHAPTER ELEVEN –
The silence was heavy and suffocating and oppressive as could be expected at best.
It wasn't so much the silence itself that was suffocating, but the tense and agitated atmosphere, wherein the cause was quite obvious.
(Being forced to kill each other and then reviving tended to do that to you.)
Lovino deftly avoided eye contact with Lukas, Lukas' gaze kept drifting warily over towards Matthew, and Matthew took turns with watching the two of them in equal amounts or twitching. It was almost palpable, tangible, how very tense all three were.
Thoughts flitted through their minds, sliding deftly into the forefront of their skull before being overtaken with another worry entirely.
They won't hurt Alfred since I won, right?
There has to be something-
-if I just kick them in the face, it would be-
Despite the similarities in their worries, and the fact that they were in the same situation, no one spoke.
Lukas alternated between worrying about his brother, Lovino, and Matthew in equal amounts even as Matthew did the same with America. Lovino spent time between wondering how much the fucking bastards would like a bullet to the face, huh, and I'll do it myself or how Spain and Veneziano were doing. Hell, Lovino was even worried about Seborga at this point, and they weren't necessarily the closest!
The silence stretched even further. No one said anything to assuage the worries heavily infiltrating the very air itself, saturating every breath in a negative sort of charge. No one was willing to make the first move, to offer the much needed olive branch.
Time ticked on in a slow funeral march.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Attempt to not punch the wall. Punch the wall anyways.
Repeat.
America was running on pure stubbornness at this point, awake only through external help such as his cell phone's alarm going off every third minute and copious amounts of coffee.
Australia had swiftly given the OK for external government sources such as the CIA to search every square inch of the country when he received the news. No one had ever seen the cheerful Australian so horrified than in that instant when he received the news of the kidnapped nations being tracked to his country.
The unsteady, gradually fading sound of typing echoed in the room. A minute passed.
Two minutes.
Three minutes, four…
America's face met with his keyboard not a second sooner after five minutes passed, deep and almost impossibly dark bags under his eyes and a steady trail of drool already progressing down his face. The Y button was stuck on repeat, soft snores soon emitting from the tall blonde's immobile form. The only sign of America still being alive was the steady rise and fall of his chest and shoulders in tune.
Denmark was packing a back when Sweden walked into the room.
"Wh't're ya doin'?" Was Sweden's casual question that fooled neither of them.
"Packin'." Denmark grunted in response. Sweden hummed before asking, "F'r wh't?"
"Getting' Norge back."
Sweden Ah'd in answer. A heartbeat passed.
"Iceland g't a fl'methr'wer."
Denmark paused to send Sweden a disbelieving, almost but not quite deadpanned stare.
"Seriously? Wow, I wondered what he was doin' since that last video… Bet ya he got that Hong Kong kid to teach'm." Sweden hummed, in denial or agreement Denmark couldn't be sure.
"… Fin wants t'join y', y'know."
Denmark paused. "Yeah, I know."
"… We both do." Sweden clarified after a beat, words carefully punctuated. Denmark tilted his head to get a better look at Sweden's unusually taut face pulled into something tight and feral.
Denmark gave a grin just as feral as Sweden's face.
"Sure, I don't mind, and I bet'cha Norge definitely won't mind either!"
Dark smiles that held no teeth or warmth were shared like a secret between the two normally arguing nations, a silent air of comprehension linking the two.
And then Iceland conveniently walked by carrying what appeared to be a large, heavy bazooka with Finland in the background holding a basin filled to the brim with grenades, breaking the previously tense atmosphere.
"… Is this a bad time?"
"… And if this area isn't searched properly this time I swear to God I'll fire you myself right now! Or set you on fire!"
Spain listened with an absentminded ear as Italy shouted half hysterical orders, men quivering under the auburn haired Italian's fierce gaze. As for himself, Spain did what he'd done before searching every dock warehouse before this one; he observed possible exit and entry points and how open the surrounding area was.
There was a slightly cracked road leading to, from, and pass the warehouse in either direction.
It was only luck, however, that Spain's clever eyes made contact with a figure shuffling quickly behind a corner on the opposite side of the warehouse.
Making a quick decision, Spain silently apologized to the northern Italian in his head and walked swiftly with an impressive stride, moving into the shaded area by the building opposite the warehouse. He slowed his pace as he crept closer to the corner he saw the aforementioned person – Spain had been unable to identify whether or not it was a male or female.
A beat passed, and then another, before finally the same face that had ducked behind the corner peeked back out. Spain wasted no time in grabbing the figure by the hood of the well-worn grey jacket. Spain pushed the figure, who Spain could now identify as a male, against the wall in what would have normally seemed to be an uncharacteristically aggressive move just days, a mere couple of weeks earlier.
Spain's face leaned in closer to the frightened blue eyes adorning the frightened, pale face of a man who seemed to be little more than a boy playing a grown up's game and finally realizing just how deep he fell into something much bigger than himself. Italy had already noticed what was going on by the shaded corner and was making his way over.
"So then, amigo, what were you doing all the way over here?"
