Whaaaaaat up! Yes, I know, you all think I'm a terrible person for keeping you waiting for so long, but I assure you, I didn't mean to! My laptop is STILL not working and I've only just managed to salvage the rest of my files today. Hence, why I was actually able to finish this. Yes folks, I wrote the majority of this chapter today. Just for you. Because I felt like such a bitch.
Sadly, now that my files are all saved, my laptop can now be trashed...which leaves me without anything to write on, since I'm not allowed to use the tower for long amounts of time (Oh yes, you people who went and read my genflip, "Doing It Right", I love you, and that's why it's been taking me so long to update!). So updates are still up in the air for now.
On a happier (or sadder) note, Folie is now over a year old! It was almost exactly a year ago today that I posted Chapter 4!
~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~
Folie à Plusiers
Douze: C'est Comme Ça
Twelve: That's How It Is
~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~
In this world, it is a very well-known fact that there are things of a certain caliber which could only be classified as awesome. Though, if you asked people, you would just as soon find that their opinions on what is awesome differs.
Gilbert Beilschmidt, or rather, Prussia, was the only exception.
He was the very epitome of awesomeness, ever since he was born! Nothing could rival his awesomeness, and he made damn sure everyone else knew it. There were many things that Prussia considered to be awesome...like little birds, himself, maple syrup, himself, invading vital regions...the point is pretty clear.
One thing however, that Prussia most certainly did not find awesome, was being locked in a psych hospital.
Now, truth be told, he hadn't openly objected to Germany's idea to go to America and bring some awesomeness to their fellow nations. Heck, some of his friends had gotten themselves stuck there in the place; France and Canada among them. A member of the infamous Bad Touch Trio, as well as the kid who could make the best fucking pancakes in the world. He had to do something, right?
His life had been rather unawesome for the last couple months, anyway. He just randomly woke up one morning, with no clue where the fuck he was, or what had happened. He had been all-too ready to blame copious alcohol consumption, but when Germany came stumbling into his room, asking questions about the same thing, it was quite obvious that something was fucked up. It was Germany's brilliant idea for him to stay cooped up in their apartment for almost two months, since no matter where they went, Prussia's unique attitude seemed to attract attention. Germany had continued to go into the city (It turned out he had a job at a large factory on the outskirts of Berlin, for some reason) and get money, but Prussia was forced to stay inside.
As stupid as West's idea was, Prussia had to admit that it was for the best. After all, the people of Berlin just wouldn't be able to handle his awesomeness.
Besides, the hospital wasn't all bad. He could harass the nurses whenever he wanted, he got three full meals a day (no beer, regrettably), and he could bug the hell outta the other Nations. He just thought that it was kinda stupid that, for some reason, they were restricted to being inside the buildings. The almighty Prussia cannot be contained! It's ludicris!
Well, and then there was the fact that the hospital staff found "invading vital regions" to be highly inappropriate.
"Seriously! These people need to pull the sticks outta their asses and learn to live a little!" Prussia sighed, slumping down further into the chair, crossing his arms behind his head, "They should be honoured that I'm gracing them with my presence!"
"Oui, I am sure," France replied from the adjacent chair, "Just remember, Prusse, that you get a needle in your arm and a day in a padded room if you try too much. The staff here are just so, ah, oblivious to the wonders of l'amour."
Prussia snorted, throwing a sidelong glance to his partner-in-crime, "Come on, Francis! Are you telling me that spending all this time in here's made you go soft in the head? Or are you speaking from experience?"
"Non, non, I am not, thank God. But you see, most of us were here when it happened to Romano; it was not a pretty sight." France waved a hand about his face.
"Ooohhhh, snap. Bet the little fucker deserved it though! Seriously, France, the kid's been out for our blood since he was barely knee-high! If he did anything that was half as unawesome as what he did on a daily basis back who-knows-when, I'm not surprised!" Prussia pointed out, quirking a pale eyebrow as he waited for his response.
"To be honest, none of us know exactly what happened. All we heard was shouting, and then the nurses took him away. Italie said that he was really mad (but it's not like we didn't already know that), and that he didn't know why. We were all quite angry at first, but it's useless to hold grudges over that sort of thing. They were only doing their job."
"Jeeeee-sus!" Prussia breathed, looking up to the ceiling, "Just when I thought that being stuck here couldn't get any more unawesome. Now I've gotta be on the lookout for nurses with tranques and hot-headed Italians. Ugh. Where's Antonio when you need him?"
"Amen," France nodded, "Let's both hope our sunny Spain shows up soon. Romano certainly hasn't been himself for the past two weeks...ever since he broke his foot. As much of a tyrant the boy is, I'd hate to see him get hurt."
"Ja, I guess. But where the fuck is Antonio anyway? We can't leave the amazing Bad Touch Trio unfinished!" Prussia proclaimed, punching a fist into the air.
"Bien sûr, mon cher ami. Also, it would be a relief to have our little posse complete; no one else here seems to like me, for some reason." he shrugged, as if the very thought of that made no sense whatsoever.
"France, I hate to break this to ya, but most of the world doesn't like you!" Prussia sniggered, breaking into full-fledged laughter at France's shocked face, "Oh, c'mon! It's not like you didn't know!"
"It's not my fault that they don't appreciate my love! I'm just trying to spread l'amour!" France defended.
"And that's exactly why Switzerland sleeps with a .45 under his pillow. And why Finland is never alone with you. And why Italy's not allowed to read your books. And why-"
"Alright, alright, mon Dieu, I get it." France sulked. "Truly, have we nothing better to speak of? We must, j'en suis sûr."
"Kesesesese, like what?"
"Ah, well..."
"Well, what?"
"..."
"...This was a lot easier when we could invade vital regions."
~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~
"And so then I told him, really; I did! I told him: 'like, Liet, you know that she's totally not that into you', which then totally reminded me of this one movie I went to see before that, and I started laughing, because it was a totally fab movie, for serious! But anyway, we-"
Turkey groaned, slamming his head down onto the table he was sitting at. Why was his life so damn miserable? Just when he thought he could gain some well needed sleep at the table in the Commons Room, who else would decide to talk to him, but Poland?
Especially if you count the fact that Poland is the reason he was needing the sleep. Having the obnoxious Pole as a roommate certainly did not make his nights enjoyable, whether it was from the fact that Poland liked to stay up until ungodly hours of the morning gossiping and playing with his makeup, or that whenever he did finally manage to doze off, he would be awakened because he was 'having a conversation' and that falling asleep during it was 'like, so totally rude'.
"-So then that dog brought home another dog, and I'm pretty sure they, like, did the nasty while I was out shopping, but I just couldn't leave the other one alone! She was sooo cute! Anyways, I begged Liet a-" this was right about the time when Turkey decided to, one again, drown out the noise around him.
He didn't understand why his luck decided now of all times to abandon him. Heck, ever since he was taken into a mental hospital by a bunch of humans, his life had been downright awful. Starting with having his precious mask taken away (really, the nerve of some people), and then he got himself stuck with Poland as a roommate, and to top it all off, something came out of freaking nowhere and nailed him in the face. Although, that had happened over a week ago, and the bruise had nearly faded. It was just the whole ordeal that helped him determine that his luck was absolute shit.
"Uh, Turkey? Are you, like, even listening to me?" Poland asked sharply, cutting into his train of thought.
"...Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah..." he mumbled, glancing around the room distractedly, "Think ya could excuse me fer a moment..?"
He didn't even register Poland's offended shouts as he wandered away from the table. He needed to get away from that menace, and if he had to be a jerk to do it, then too freakin' bad. He was Turkey, the goddamned former Ottoman Empire! He didn't have to put up with bullshit from a psychotic crossdresser!
...This is overlooking the fact that he'd been putting up with said bullshit for a few weeks now.
He left the Commons Room, heading out into the hallway. He knew there was a few other rooms down the hallway that they were allowed to use whenever they wanted without direct supervision, so he figured that he could use one of them to catch some much-needed shuteye. He knew he wasn't going to be getting any tonight.
"Feckin' brat and his stupid annoying voice an' not lettin' me get any sleep...an' that gorramned Korea brat gonna be showing up anytime now gonna be even more of a headache..." he muttered under his breath, trudging through one of the doorways (well, there wasn't actually a door per se, thanks to hospital policy) that lead to an abandoned room. An abandoned room that also happened to have a couch in it.
Flopping down onto the couch, Turkey sighed. He felt like he could just die right there, though that certainly wasn't about to happen. He flung an arm over his face to block the harsh lights, breathing deeply. This was the most quiet time he'd had in days.
"I swear, if Poland 'er Greece freakin' come find me fer no reason, there'll be blood spilled in this hospital," he stated aloud, just for the satisfaction of it. It made him feel like they were given fair warning, because he was certainly not in the mood for anything other than sleep at the moment.
He heard soft voices and footsteps pass by in the hall, but he ignored them completely in favour of drifting off into a much-needed slumber.
~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~
In the hall however, things were not so placid.
"Ve, isn't there anything you can do?" Italy asked worriedly, walking alongside Nurse Wilson. The worry was evident on his face, and he wrung his hands together to distract himself as they walked.
"At the moment, I'm not sure what to do," she replied, "I know you're quite worried about your older brother; I'm worried for him too. The thing is, that we don't know what's wrong with him. He's coming out of him room now, but he's not doing much more than that...he won't even talk, much."
Italy nodded his head and gave a low whine, looking down to the shorter woman anxiously.
"Unless we can figure out that's wrong with him, we can't so much to help. Do you have any idea what would make your brother shut down like this?" she asked. Italy furrowed his brows, staring at the floor as he thought.
"Well...I don't know. Romano's never really been like this before. Usually he's always talking and always shouting and swearing, but he..." he paused to think, "Umm...Oh, I guess that he gets kinda quiet when he's alone. When he thinks that there's no one around him, he doesn't talk much at all. Same for when he doesn't get what he wants, only he gets really pouty. But that can't be it, since there's so many others here... not that he really cares about any of them. Please sis, I'm really scared for my brother!"
Nurse Wilson took a moment to take in the pleading expression on the young man's face, and heaved a sigh. There really wasn't anything she could do until they knew more about the situation, but it was also infuriating to do nothing in the meantime.
"Perhaps I'll try to talk to him later today. Would that make you feel better, Italy?"
"Please! Thank you so much! I'm sure Romano will thank you too when all this is behind us and we can be like normal again!" he smiled, "I'd talk to him myself, but he just gets mad at me!"
"I'm sure it's just his way of showing that he cares about you," she sad, although she wondered how true her own words were. Of course, she knew that the Italian brothers loved each other...it was just...hidden at times. On Romano's part, at least.
"I know! I care about him too, that's why I'm so scared for him..." Italy mumbled, nervously studying the linoleum tiles. He caught himself, plastering a bright smile back onto his face, "But I know you'll help us out!"
Nurse Wilson felt herself return the smile. How could she disappoint a face like that?
~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~
China liked to consider himself a very knowledgeable and practical Nation. After all, he was over four millenniums old, and with that kind of age, came much wisdom.
However, all the wisdom in the world couldn't have prepared his rational conscience for this.
South Korea.
The name itself brought a sinking feeling to China's stomach. Truly, he did love his little brother...just not in the way his brother seemed to love him. Or Japan for that matter. Korea was simply too much to handle. His energy was nearly inexhaustible, his attention span rivaled that of a gnat, and his obsession with claiming other people's things for his own (namely, their breasts. Or lack thereof), was absolutely insufferable.
If he kept worrying over this, China was sure he was going to end up with gray hairs before Korea even stepped foot inside MacFarlane's. Which was another issue. It had been roughly a week and a half since the head psychiatrist of the institution had informed them that Korea had been found. Well, due to arguments and failed negotiations between the high-faluting members of whatever was in charge of getting all of the discovered patients to the same hospital, Korea had yet to arrive.
Put in simpler terms: China had no idea when Korea was going to arrive. It could very well be any day now. And his anxiety was getting worse by the day.
He sighed aggravatedly, tugging on the elastic band that was wrapped around his ponytail (it had been quite a struggle to convince the nurses to let him keep the hairtie; you'd think he was planning to kill himself with it). His old heart just couldn't handle this.
"China...are you feeling alright?" came a soft voice from behind him. Turning around, China was met with the worried face of Finland.
"Ah, Finland. I assure you, I am feeling fine, aru," China assured, offering a close-lipped smile. He and Finland weren't very close, in terms of familiarity, but if the younger Nation was worried about him, he couldn't very well turn a cold shoulder.
"I you say so," he didn't look convinced, "You've just been standing there, fretting and fiddling with your hair. I don't know about you, but where I come from, that's not the look of someone who's alright."
"..." well, it seemed he couldn't ease his way out of this one. It was a shame really, as China was not someone who particularly liked having people worry about him, "You are certainly more perceptive than people credit you for."
"Is it because of your brother?"
"...You are certainly MUCH more perceptive, aru."
"Call it intuition," Finland shrugged, "I lived with Sweden and Sealand, and they can both be childish. I guess I've just gotten a knack for figuring out problems." the young Nation chuckled warmly.
China sighed wistfully, "I understand completely, aru. I raised practically the rest of Asia, although...nowadays I have no clue what any of them are thinking. They used to look up to me, you know. I loved being the strong big brother that looked after them, aru, but they just got so big...and I don't think that these old bones can handle it anymore."
"Cheer up," Finland smiled, "Even if they don't show it, they still love you. You can't just kill a bond that strong; you raised them for centuries," he paused, "But you have to give a little too. They aren't the little Nations you raised. They've grown, and they've changed. I think that maybe you need to open up to who they are now. You should keep that in mind when Korea gets here."
China blinked at the unusually sage-like Finland, "I...never really thought of that. When did you become so wise, aru?"
Finland chuckled, placing his finger along the side of his nose, "It's a secret. I'm still just the same old Finland."
"Ah. Well, I thank you for your kind words. I shall take them to heart, aru," he bowed his head respectfully, with Finland repeating the gesture, "But right now, I think I'll ask the nurses to brew some tea, aru. Would you liked to join me?"
Unfortunately, Finland shook his head in the negative, "Sorry, I really can't. I need to go back and keep an eye on Su-san. He's helpless without me," he laughed good-heartedly, "Maybe next time, alright?"
China nodded, "Of course, aru."
Finland waved in goodbye as the older Nation left the room, presumably to find a nurse to inquire about some tea. The blond haired man sighed, ruffling the back of his head. He really hoped that he had given China good advice, as he didn't know Korea personally...but he'd heard stories. Sadly, they were all rather unflattering in regards to the boisterous Asian. There had to be some good things about Korea, as Finland wasn't wont to believe that anyone was truly bad until they proved him otherwise. Really, if he could be persuaded by stories and appearances, he would've steered as far away from Sweden as possible.
"Well, best of luck to him then..." Finland mumbled (mumbling? Oh dear, he must've been picking up on Sweden's speech habits!) as he made his way to exit the room as well, stepping out into the hallway just in time to collide headfirst with Italy. Well, more like head-to-shoulder with Italy, as the southern Nation stood a good couple inches taller than himself.
"Waah!" Italy shouted in surprise as he stumbled back, thankfully not floored by the impact. For Finland, unfortunately, the crash had send him falling back onto his ass, groaning.
"Ugghh..." he held his nose in pain. Thankfully, it wasn't bleeding, but that didn't stop it from hurting any less.
"Oh no! Finland, are you alright?" Italy exclaimed worriedly, frantically picking the smaller man up under his arms and setting him back on his feet, "You're not bleeding are you? Oh no, please don't be bleeding! If you're bleeding you could die and that would be really really bad! Oh god! Oh god! He's gonna die, isn't he Nurse Wilson? I killed Finland!"
"Italy, Italy! I'm fine!" Finland nearly had to yell for his voice to be heard over Italy's panicked tones, his voice sounding awkward and nasal as he still had his hand over his face.
"Yes, Italy. Look, he seems to be just fine," Nurse Wilson agreed with the injured patient, placing a hand on Italy's shoulder as the man tried to calm down, "Although really, you should pay more attention to where you're going instead of running ahead like that."
"Veee..." Italy sniffled, rubbing at his eyes, which had begun to tear up, "I'm sorry! I really didn't mean to hurt you!"
Finland waved his free hand dismissively, "No, no! I'm perfectly fine, so please don't worry about it! I'm sure that I should've been paying more attention too!" He slowly removed the hand from his nose, pleased to see that there was, indeed, no blood, "See, I'm not even bleeding. You worry too-" his train of thought was cut off as loud footsteps were heard thundering down the hallway.
"Oh dear...now I'm in for it..." Italy mourned, looking down at the floor as Germany rounded the corner at a run, Sweden right on his heels.
"What happened?" Germany demanded, coming to an abrupt stop in front of the trio, "Everything was quiet, and then we heard Italy screaming-"
"-Scr'min 'bout 'im kill'n m' w'fe" Sweden cut in overtop of Germany's sentence, looking at Italy with a curious expression on his face. Of course, by wearing a curious expression, Italy assumed that Sweden's face meant absolute anger and a painful death.
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to run into him I swear!" Italy cried, holding his arms out like a shield, "Please don't kill me! I have relatives in Göteborg!"
"He's right, Su-san!" Finland jumped in at the other Nation's defense, only slightly off-guard by Sweden's scary expression, "It was an accident, and Italy just kinda...overreacted. There's no hard done, see?" he gestured to himself.
Germany sighed forcefully, sidling past Sweden and Finland to stand beside Italy, "Really, do you have to scream and cry at every little thing? I swear, you never change a bit, Italy," but his disappointed tone was undermined by the somewhat amused smile on his face.
Unfortunately, Italy couldn't read the look on Germany's face, and started to cry again, "I'm sorry Germany! You're always telling me what a bad soldier I am and how disappointed you are! I won't ever do it again! Just please, please don't leave me again!" he wailed, wrapping his arms around Germany's torso in a leech-like hug.
Nurse Wilson had stepped back from the group, intent on simply watching them to see how they would sort this out amongst themselves. Although, she had to admit that she was concerned about Italy. While it was certainly true that his mood and stability had greatly improved since Germany arrived, she was worried about his habit of clinging to the taller man. It was obvious that Italy feared being without him, but was almost like...like he was begging Germany to stay with him.
"Italy, stop your crying," Germany said, resting his hand atop the man's auburn head, "Why would I leave you? Prussia and I flew here from my house because you all were here, Italy. If one of us goes anywhere, the other goes too." he held out his right hand to Italy, sticking up his pinkie finger. Still sniffling, Italy wrapped his finger around Germany's.
Sweden, meanwhile, was still looking at Italy disconcertingly, "...W'll, if ya say it was j'st 'n accid'nt..." he trailed off, softening his gaze as he looked to Finland, " 'nd ya still h've a red spot 'n yer nose."
"I'm alright. Honest," Finland assured, pleased that Sweden didn't overreact and end up scaring Italy too much. Lord know that the poor boy couldn't handle that.
Sweden nodded, a small smile quirking up his lips. To anyone else, it would've looked just downright terrifying, but Finland had learned to read his face in the many decades they'd spent together, and offered a warm smile of his own in return.
"Ja, so, I think we're all on the same page now. 'No harm no foul', as they say," Germany cleared his throat, a hand still resting comfortingly on Italy's head.
Sweden gave a small grunt, "Y's. Th're 's no reas'n t' get viol'nt."
The two Germanic Nations leveled each other a look, as they were rather close in height, nodded silent agreement amongst each other, and headed back down the hall they'd come from. Germany's hand still on Italy's head. And Sweden's hand on his 'wife's' shoulder.
Nurse Wilson sighed in relief. She was proud of them, it was true, for it hadn't escalated into violence. She wasn't sure about Germany, as he seemed to be very intellectual and rule-savvy, but Sweden certainly looked like that type of person to get physical in a disagreement. Of course, she could be wrong, as the Swede hadn't really revealed anything about himself during his incarceration.
Smiling softly, she followed the four patients from a distance, content with just watching them.
~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~
The rest of the day had come and gone, along with the first half of the next day. The call over the PA had some at breakfast. In some part of the Nation's minds, they'd know that the day had to come. And finally, the terrible day was here .
Enter: South Korea.
Well, in all honesty, that was just the general feel of the Commons Room. The newest patient had yet to arrive, although the team escorting him had called from the airport not even twenty minutes ago, reporting that their plane had landed without incident and they were now on course for MacFarlane's. For the patients currently residing in the hospital, it was like something had died within them. Maybe it was just their innocence.
The chairs, couch, and table were all filled with anxious Nations, waiting with a certain amount of apprehension and worry for their newest friend...if you could call it that.
"...I haven't felt so uncomfortable since the first time Italy ran in on me in the shower..." Germany mumbled, breaking the almost hypnotic silence that had taken over the inhabitants of the room.
"Pffft! When the hell did that happen?" America asked, failing horribly at stifling his laughter at the wonderful mental images in his head.
"Sometime in the forties...and then again a little while after that," Germany admitted, his face turning steadily redder. Now that he thought back on it, it sounded a lot more suggestive than he realized.
America gave an appreciative whistle, "Aaanndd? Did'ja like what you saw, Italy?"
Of course, the ever clueless Italian responded with an enthusiastic, "Sure did!", which only served to worsen America's laughter.
"That's, like, totes hilarious! Italy, why did you, like, never tell me? I thought us girlfriends tell each other everything!" Poland whined, "Although, I'd like, never want to see that icky jerk naked-" a pointed glare at Germany, "-but my darling Liet? Ita, if I'd ever seen him nekked, You'd totally have been the first one I'd gossip with!"
"Kesesesese! West, I can't believe you wouldn't tell your dear older Bruder that you managed to get that little cutie into the shower with you! I never thought a square like you could do it!" Prussia cackled, throwing his head back.
"Honestly, Gilbert, even if it did happen like that, you'd be the last person I'd tell," Germany said quite frankly.
"Oohhh snap!" Turkey injected, earning a scowl from the albino Nation.
"Ahhhh, the wonders of l'amour! It brings tears to my eye, to see such beauty take wing!" France spouted dramatically, "Now, be sure that you two take good care the first time you f-MPHH!"
"Can it, frog." England growled, straightening his shirt, which was now lacking the tie he had used to gag France. The rest of the posse laughed happily at France's silence.
In the far corner of the room, Nurse Wilson chuckled to herself, greatly amused with the conversation. Dr. Eticott cleared his throat, and she glanced at him. This was one of the few times that the doctor had torn himself from trying to properly diagnose the patients and actually came into the same room as them.
"Yes, Doctor?" she prompted.
"I was simply inquiring; the patients get along quite well, yes?" he asked, tired eyes scanning the fourteen patients.
"Well, generally. They have small disputes, but they are few and far between. Lovino doesn't like Ludwig, although I don't think that the hatred is returned. Both Lovino and Heracles have some sort of grudge against Sadiq. Arthur and Francis, I think, are more of a rivalry than actual hate, and I don't think that Feliks is particularly fond of Ludwig either," she sighed, "But, as you see, they get along well most of the time."
"And what of the older Vargas?" Dr. Eticott continued, "Has he improved any?"
She glanced over to Romano, who was standing forlornly by the window, leaning heavily on his crutches. He'd made progress, that was for sure. He left his room regularly and without persuasion, and he spoke (however briefly) with the others. He was still sad, it was evident, and he tried to stay away from the other patients if he could help it.
"He has," she replied, "The only thing that I'm worried about is his involvement with the others. If I may say so myself, he distances himself, sir. I don't think that he has a strong bond with anyone here, other than his brother. Not even his supposed identity interacts well with them. He feels alone."
"Hmmm..." the doctor seemed to ponder this, "And yet, it was not until his 'incident' that he acted so detached?"
"Yes."
"Have you found any reason for that?"
"Well, he did tell me that he felt worthless," she admitted, "So I'm thinking that there was something that occurred to him then that set him apart. His brother tells me, and this is only their alternate egos talking, so I can't be sure how true it is, he told me that Lovino only really had one other person he was close to. He wouldn't give me a real name, he only called him Spain. I have a gut feeling that it's something to do with him."
Dr. Eticott opened his mouth to reply, when he was silenced by a shrill beeping coming from his pocket. He withdrew his pager, sighing heavily as he looked at the extension number that was displayed on it. He excused himself and headed over to the nurse's office to use the phone inside.
No sooner had the office door closed behind the good doctor that the telltale clacking of shoes on the linoleum signal the arrival of the new patient. Of course, even if they hadn't heard the footsteps, they absolutely couldn't mistake the loud, obnoxious voice that echoed throughout the room.
"Finalyyyy! I can't wait to see Yao-yao again! He'll be so happy to have his breasts back where they originated, da ze~!" an overzealous, overjoyed voice crowed.
Every head on the room turned to look at China, expressions varying between wicked amusement and utter pity. China himself felt his stomach grow ominously heavy, and figured that this would be the best time to kiss his sanity goodbye...but then again, he had to remember Finland's advice. He needed to be more accepting of his siblings for who they were. Even if who they were was an insane, handsy teenager.
Korea burst into the room, absolutely bursting with unbridled joy. His wide brown eyes immediately latched onto his beloved older brother, and in a matter of seconds, so did his entire body.
"ANIKIIII~! I missed you so much, da ze!" Korea exclaimed, practically squeezing the life out of his dear sibling. The teen's grabby hands somehow managed to find their way to China's chest, "I missed your breasts too! Because they undoubtedly originated in Korea!"
"H-hello, Korea..." China choked out, face going red both from the lack of oxygen and the embarrassment he was suffering at the hands of his younger sibling. He knew that it was America he could hear guffawing at him from the crowd of Nations!
"Y-yo! Long time no see, Korea!" America called out between laughs, holding up a hand, "How've you been keeping?"
Successfully distracted, Korea loosened his hold on China, who gasped for breath. Smiling brightly, Korea turned his attention to America, giving him a high-five.
"America! Awesome to see you here too, da ze! Reunions like this obviously originated in Korea!"
The conversations and welcomes went on from there, each Nation voicing themselves to their new hospital-mate.
Nurse Wilson, however, was taken aback by the new patient. Why, he couldn't have been any more than sixteen years old! He wouldn't even have been done with highschool yet. Until then, Matthew had been the youngest patient, and he was still a registered adult at eighteen years. If the Korean was truly as young as he looked, then she supposed that there really was no connection between the ages of the patients.
The attending doctor from Korea approached her with a pleasant smile on his face, offering her a plain manila envelope, undoubtedly containing the full profile of the Korean patient. She thanked him politely and took it, opening the flap and sliding out the profile.
Im Yong Soo, "Korea"
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Height: 5'3"
Birthday: August 15th
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
She flipped through the rest of the pages briefly, not even noticing when Dr. Eticott emerged from the office and stood behind her, looking at the profile over her shoulder.
"Anything out of the ordinary?" he asked, causing her to jump a little. The Korean doctor chuckled amusedly, but hurriedly caught himself lest he be thought of as impolite.
"No, not so far as I can tell. It's just like with the others, except his symptoms didn't appear until more recently," she reported, flipping the pages back together and replacing them in the envelope.
"I see," He nodded, "As it is, I feel that this is the perfect time to make my announcement. If you'll excuse me, Ms. Wilson, Dr. Gook."
As the doctor made his way toward the group of Nations, the atmosphere seemed to have lightened considerably. As it was, Korea didn't turn out to have nearly as much energy as they were dreading (oh, the beauty of jetlag) and was now quite placated.
"Excuse me, gentlemen. I'd like to make an announcement," he spoke, his tone showing that he was a no-nonsense man when it came to his line of work, "But first, for those of you who had yet to meet me, I am Dr. Eticott, the head psychiatrist at this institution. It is a pleasure to meet you and I look forward to working with you all in the future."
"Are you gonna cut us open? Like for lobos...l...lupis...no, that's not it...lobbymees?" Korea blabbered, looking at the doctor with avid curiosity.
"Lobotomies? Certainly not, young man. I simply would like to get to know you all better. Now, as I was saying before, I received a phone call from my administrator in central DC a few minutes ago, and I think that this is as good a time as ever to inform you all that we will be expecting the next patient to arrive in three days."
"Already?" England asked, "It's been a while since we've heard of anyone else; nearly two weeks."
"Right you are, Mr. Kirkland," Dr. Eticott agreed, missing the annoyed twitch of England's eyebrow as the man spoke his name, "Though I am quick to put this all to circumstance."
"Wh's it th'n?" Sweden asked, adjusting his glasses as he looked at the smaller man.
"Who is it then?" Finland translated, figuring that the doctor would have a hard time understanding the Swede's mumbling.
"I've been told that the next patient of your genre to come forward is a Mr. Vash Zwingli, from Bern, Switzerland." the doctor said, quirking an eyebrow as the aura of dread came back to the room much quicker than it had left it.
In the end, it was Italy who voiced everyone's thoughts, clearly thinking of the horrible things in the past that involved Switzerland, rifles, and a lack of pants.
"Veeee...we are so dead."
-xo-xo-xo-xo-xo-xo-xo-
*sobs* This took far too long to write...
Translations:
"Prusse" - "Prussia"
"l'amour" - "love"
"bien sur, mon cher ami" - "of course, my dear friend"
"Italie" - "Italy"
"Mon Dieu" - "My God"
"J'en suis sur" - "I'm sure of it"
Hey, you know how a lot of people shorten the names of their fics to just the first letter of all the words? Well...I can't do that. 'Cause you know what, Folie A Plusiers shortens its name to FAP. Yes, FAP. *bows head in shame* fapfapfapfapfapfap.
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