((Sorry for chapter title. Sorry, notsorry.))
Gilbert's headache wasn't going away. It wasn't getting any better. And it would absolutely not, under any circumstances, let him sleep. After a few hours Gilbert sighed very loudly, made some sort of grumbling complaint, and got out of bed.
It was late at night by now, and he had to be careful as he walked slowly down the dark stairs, one hand on his head, the other gripping the railing tightly. He didn't have any particular goal in mind except for perhaps getting a glass of water or something, but anything was better than sitting around doing nothing.
It was almost like Gilbert was on some kind of awesome adventure! Kesesesese!
"Ow!" he exclaimed as his headache suddenly brought him to his knees (luckily, he was already on the ground floor). He had made something of a loud thud when he had landed, and by now he expected someone to be fussing annoyingly over him already... but the room was completely silent.
"Vhere the hell is everyone?" Gilbert asked as he noticed the empty room. He was sure a few hours ago the ground floor had been bustling with people. Apparently Alfred was throwing a party or something...
But now the room was completely empty... 'Veird...' Gilbert thought*
Gilbert wandered around for a little bit. Opening rooms searching for the missing 'party-goers'. He didn't want to admit it, but the empty house was quite spooky... It was eerily silent, and dark, and Gilbert was alone... Very alone...
"Which is fine! Perfectly fine!" Gilbert said to no one in particular whilst biting his cheeks the slightest. "I love being alone, its fine- it's great!"
Silence...
Whsssssssh... BANG!
Something exploded outside causing Gilbert to jump and fall back, hitting his head on the counter. He put his hand on the back of his head and felt something wet. 'Damn...' He looked toward where he had heard the noise and noticed the glass window-door leading to the back yard.
The only faint light was coming from that door, and through the glass he could see a dark figure approaching the house. Something red in its hands...
Russia had been surprised by the loud noise and bright light Hong Kong's firecracker had produced. America seemed perfectly fine about it however...
"Woo! Shoot another one!" he said, high-fiving Hong Kong. America did seem to have a thing for fireworks...
All the countries had gathered in the back yard and watched America and Hong Kong put on a fireworks show for them while they waited for everyone to arrive.
England was still walking up and down America's street making last-minute calls to countries, making sure everyone was on their way, and that nothing had gone wrong. Everyone was desperately worried about him- he hadn't been able to sit still for at least three hours now. But no one could get him to settle down, so they let him worry over everything, hoping that he would tire himself out eventually.
While Hong Kong set up the next explosion (firework?), America rushed over to Russia with the shell of the last one.
"It'll take a while to set up the next one. Would you mind running this to the trash can in the kitchen and maybe check on Prussia?"
"Oh, okay." He took the firecracker shell and examined it as he walked back to the house. "So apparently this is the same technology that 'guns' use, but it looks pretty instead of killing people..." Russia said to himself.
He had slowly been learning about the various advances in technology since he'd been gone. America introduced him to the radio and was planning on showing him his (awesome 64" high-def flat screen) TV later that day or the next morning.
Russia slid open the glass door (even after being shown how to do it multiple times, he still had difficulty with it most of the time) and went into America's kitchen to throw the shell away.
It was dark in the house, and Russia would need a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darker environment, but he had expected that. What he hadn't expected was for Gilbert to jump him as soon as he walked through the door- butter knife in hand.
*Yes, Gilbert's thoughts are spelled like his accent sounds. Honestly, when's the last time your thoughts were in an accent other than your own, hmm? Yes, I know you can do an accent in your head, but you're trying to do that. Shut up, stop arguing with me and read the damn story!
