A/N: Hej.

This is really boring sometimes, you know, writing to no end. And the joints in my fingers are starting to hurt. God, I hope I'm not getting early-onset arthritis. That would do wonders for my already nonexistent social life.

Also, I would like to announce the death of my last shred of sanity. It will be cremated and it's ashes will be scattered in my garden.

Would you like to know why my last shred of sanity has dies, dearest reader? I realized the cake I made on the 10th of July was to celebrate the existence of South Sudan. And that I was singing "Happy Birthday" under my breath today, the 11th. Well, I have now been celebrating the birthday of South Sudan for three days now. And I'm full-blood German with a smattering of British. (All English people, I need to tell you this. I'm using British in the correct context. I'm Scottish, English, and Welsh, underneath my heavy German decent.)

I'm being patriotic to a country I have no relation to. See why I'm insane? I'm even treating him as a he around my house.

Well, I think that's it for my rambling.

I tripped on my own feet in surprise and looked at the door. England was standing in it.

"Don't scare me like that!" I nearly shouted from the floor and caught the pills nearly thrown at my face. I got up and took a few to compensate for not taking them last night. "What do you want England?" I asked rudely.

"I'm here to say that you keep forgetting to bring your animals places. I wouldn't advise you to forget your beloved turtle, rabbit, and kitten." He said and I saw all three follow right after him. I had completely forgot about them in my life with the three other countries, how much had they seen of our sexual advances?

Wait... I thought. If I haven't been feeding them, who has?

As if he could read my mind, Canada stepped in the room, holding Kumajiro. I hadn't seen him around much.

"I've been feeding them. I should really file animal cruelty, but I'm afraid I'd be hypocritical." I stared at him for a bit before I understood what he meant.

He was calling the people that shared the hotel room with him animals.

"Thanks a lot, Canada." I said and started tossing things into a duffel bag. I didn't care in what order they were in, because it would all fit in there anyway. I eventually zipped it up and lugged it outside to sit it by the door. I walked past a cat that looked like America's, for I'd only seen his cat once.

I picked up my messenger bag and pulled it into the room that I shared with Cyprus. I walked in and saw England sitting on the bed.

"What?" I asked as I strung my other two necklaces around my neck, so they could lay, above and below my necklace I got from America.

"I went to the hospital and got two bottles of your prescription, a note from the pharmacist saying you need them, and wiped the memories of all the people that worked there and treated you." He tossed he the other two bottle while he spoke. I caught both and, I looked at him in shock, looping the earrings I took out last night through my ears. "You need to remember that humans can't know we exist."

"You say "human" like we never were them." I said solemnly. "So I'm guessing I need my old fake ID to get through the airport, if we're even going through one." I said and picked the cards from the old, dismantled music box on the bed. One a fake ID, the others, credit cards and a drivers license. "I hate this thing."

"Or you could just ditch the habit." Cyprus said, clearing the last of the belongings from the bedroom. "Weed isn't good for you."

"But it helps me get through the day. I either smoke, or kill myself. And it's up to 216 times now." I said and took my pipe out of my bag. I filled it with the dried leaves and lit it with my lighter. Cyprus was gawking. "What?"

"I've only killed myself 176 times." She said, disbelieving. "And I'm like twice as old as you."

"Please don't tease me about that." I said and took a breath from the pipe, held in between my two fingers. "I hate thinking about you as older than me."

"You're body is only 15! Mine is 16!" She laughed. I rolled my eyes and finished my smoke. "Anyway, we need to get going. We don't want to be late for the flight."

"Aren't we going in a private plane?" I asked, and watched Cyprus shake her head.

"Canada, you, nor I have private planes to our disposal, and America was to frivolous with his in the past. We get to go to the local airport." She said and walked up to pat me on the shoulder. My jaw dropped.

"I hate them. I have to get by the drug sniffing dogs and the metal detectors. Then they confiscate my laptop and try to incriminate me because I'm Dutch. This sucks." I said and threw my hands in the air. "I hate airports."

"So do I. Now say goodbye to the room." Cyprus said and hopped off the bed.

"Goodbye room." I said sarcastically. I walked into the front room where America was teasing Canada with his glasses. America was a few inches taller, so he could keep Canada's glasses from him.

"Stop." I said sternly and dropped my bag by the door. "We need to go over the damn aliases for when we're going through security and customs." They both nodded and sat at the table, followed by Cyprus and I.

England stood by the door, preparing to leave.

"OK," Canada started and started to open the package from all of our bosses. "I am Nick Gautier. An exchange student that only knows French, Hungarian, and English, although I am not fluent. I'm 17 and emancipated because I'm traveling." He smiled at the sheet of paper. "My hobbies include: Boating, doing makeup and hair, studying for my psychology degree, and cooking. That's the first time my boss gave me hobbies." He smirked. "Parlez-vous français, ma chérie?" He turned to me and asked.

"Français? Non." I said, laughing at myself. "Pass the envelope, Nick." I teased and he did.

Cyprus took it from him.

"Alyx Tri- Trian-" I took the paper from her, as she was having trouble pronouncing the last name.

"Alyx Triantafyllidis." I said for her.

"OK, Alyx Triantafyllidis," She had trouble pronouncing it. "I'm a High school student that's traveling to America for a "better education." God only knows it's worse over there." She mumbled.

"Hey!" America said indignantly.

"Fine, fine." She sighed again and looked back at her paper. "I have an older brother that I will be looking for. I have lived with him all of my life, and am now going to America for school for pastry cooking. I'm 16 and my hobbies include: Reading, cleaning, debating, and sewing toys for kids. I seem to be the average house wife, don't I?" She snickered and handed the piece of paper to me.

"Oh! I've got three!" I said as I pulled out my paper. "I could either be, Linbjørg Viggodatter. A Norwegian 16-year-old college grad, who's going to America so she can meet up with her parents again. My hobbies as this one are: Acrobatics, sunbathing, and designing clothing for dogs." I read out loud and started laughing. "Screw that."

I skipped a few lines and started to read the next one.

"Nikita Baranski." I looked at it, noticing it was a fairly masculine name. "She is a Russian business woman, age 22. She's going to America on vacation. Her hobbies include: Taking long walks on the beach in her bikini-" I rolled my eyes at the thought of walking on a Russian beach in a bikini. "-ice skating, and watching rugby." I sighed.

"You should go with that one!" America said from next to me. I shot a deathly glare at him and looked at the last identity.

"Alyd Meier. 16." I frowned at the very name, it was my mother's name and a variation of Luxembourg's human's last name. "A Dutch high-school drop out. Her parents disowned her for dropping out and now she's going to America for 'a new life'. Her hobbies include: Writing, playing rugby, firing guns, and painting." I blinked a few times before fishing out the three IDs and passports. The three of my friends looked at them.

"They're all different pictures." America said and Canada hit him upside the head.

"Duh. It would be weird if a 22 year old business woman had an ID that looks like a mugshot." He pointed at the student ID that had the name "Alyd Meier" printed on it. I started laughing uncontrollably at the picture.

"What?" Cyprus asked as she paused in flipping through her passport.

"That actually is a mugshot!" I said and picked it up, after my laughter subsided. I scratched at the plaster on the bridge of my nose. "Well, it looks like I'll be the Dutch high-school drop out, instead of the business woman or the romance novel character."

I tossed the other two sets of information into the mailbag at the door.

"Gwil Ace. Age 19." America read aloud from his piece of paper. "He's Welsh, and going to America for cultural reasons. He is hoping to find a girlfriend there, and may stay if he does. His hobbies include: Playing football (Al, this means soccer), writing, and organizing." He scoffed and tossed the identification on the table.

"Sorry." Canada said and opened up the passport. "Can you even pull off a Welsh accent?"

"No, but I have a second identity if I can't pull off the first." He pulled the last few things from the envelope. "Erik Drogan. 16. Going back to America to get away from his dreary life as a farmhand. He's American, but moved with his parents to a farm in Scotland. His hobbies are: Running, playing soccer, and riding horses." He smiled and threw the first documents for "Gwil Ace" into the trash.

"Is that it?" I asked and looked inside the yellow envelope. Nothing else was in it.

"We should get going, shouldn't we?" Cyprus asked and stood up. "Here's your turtle." She said and handed Cameo to me.

I strung the cord around my neck and picked up my bag, which was oddly heavy. I looked inside and found Alta and Twelve.

"Out, and into the pet carrier." I said and took them out. The kitten refused to be put into the box, so I let her be stubborn and stay.

We all left the penthouse, carrying our things.

"Do you think that they'll charge us for the damages, or do you think we fixed them well enough?" America said as the elevator flew past levels.

"I don't know, maybe. I think they'll figure it out when they see the shape that the sink is in, or the fact that it was replaced." Canada shrugged his bag higher on his shoulder.

We all walked into the lobby and to the front desk to check out.

"Drug dogs are a Dutch woman's worst enemy," I mumbled and pulled out my credit card so I could share the hotel bill.

We quickly walked onto the street, so I pulled out my phone, thinking about the wounds on Norway.

I waited for it to ring, and he picked up.

"Hello?" There was horrible interference, most likely because he was flying.

"Yeah, it's Netherlands. How are your wounds?" I asked, trying not to sound concerned, but failing.

"Oh, is my girlfriend concerned over me?" He said in a smug voice.

"Shut up!" I said, smirking, and blushing. I'd decided to formally ask him out when America's back was healing. Our first date was running through the city from the cops, me disguised as a man, and him in his half dragon form. "Please don't call me that." I said quietly, I was already trailing behind my friends while we walked to the bus stop. Cyprus beckoned me forward, so I jogged up.

"Sorry, baby." He said. I heard the smirk in his voice. The interference stopped, so he must have landed.

"How are the damn wounds?" I asked angrily and caught up with my friends.

"Well, I think you need to change the bandages again, once you get to New York. I'm assuming you're staying with America and the others." He said calmly, but he chuckled when he spoke America's name, which disturbed me a bit.

"OK, but is that just an excuse to take off your shirt and try to molest me?" I asked and got weird looks from all three of them. I mouthed "Norway" so they knew the context it was in. America seemed to get even more distressed.

"Maybe." I could practically hear him wink. My cheeks flushed and I brushed the hair from my eyes. "Well, I got to go."

"Bye."

"Love you." He said. I froze and heard the line disconnect. I closed my phone and smiled at them, only America was still looking at me.

"Why were talking about Norway molesting you?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"I'm going out with him." I said as the bus pulled up.

This time, all of them stared at me, floored. I rolled my eyes and stepped on the bus, paying the driver. I walked to the back and sat down. The three of them sat around me. America directly to my left, his hand brushing my thigh when ever we hit a bump, which was extremely often.

He pulled out his phone and used the keyboard to type out a message.

"We're being watched." It said. I looked up at him, half panicked. He deleted it and started typing again. "Don't look. There is a man three seats up and across the isle that stared at us as we walked on, and has been watching us in the mirror of the bus." I waited a few seconds to look up and see a man in the mirror with his eyes locked on me.

I pulled my own phone out.

"That's a drug dealer I haven't payed back yet. It's just chance we're on the same bus." He nodded and put his phone is his pocket like I.

We waited in silence and were at the airport in 15 minutes. While we walked off, the drug dealer tugged on my sleeve.

"What?" I asked, annoyed, and in a Russian accent.

"Sorry, my mistake." He said and slunk back into the seat. I strode out and panted from carrying my bag through the cramped bus.

"Lets go." America said, handing out the plane tickets. Each of them were registered under no names, and they were completely random. "We need to act as if we're strangers from this point on. We'll meet in the terminal and talk there. We'll act as if we don't know each other from almost anywhere, accept a party we were all at last month."

"You're acting intelligent for once." Canada said and pulled his hair into a ponytail low on his head. "I'll enter on the east wing."

"I take the north one." Cyprus said happily, talking the one closest to us then.

"I'll get the south one, because I have more stamina than any of you." I muttered.

"I'll take the south west one." America said and we all split up, walking down the roads to each entrance.

I walked for 15 minutes, nearly reaching the entrance and saw America out of the corner of my eye.

"Miss! Could I take your bag?" He asked, acting as if he didn't know me.

"No, it's fine." I said, happily, but with stern eyes. He nodded infinitesimally and walked away and into the entrance closest to mine.

And in about 10 minutes, I was standing in the customs line. I felt someone's eyes on my back, but didn't turn around.

And a barking came from next to me, at the hight of about my hip. I looked down to see a black and brown dog at my hip.

"Miss, could you come with us?"

Verrek!

I was laying on the seats in the terminal, staring at Cyprus, who was sewing a corset back together. My head was in America's lap, because I was too lazy to get up.

"How'd you get the cops to give your weapons back? And the drugs, without any charges." Canada asked me, in French.

"Gave them both blow jobs." I said quietly enough for only the four of us to hear. "I wish it didn't have to come to that, but it did."

America froze.

"What?" He asked.

"You heard me." I said and tossed one of the whale bones from Cyprus' corset to her. The police had dismantled it. "And I still think it's weird they don't have cameras in here. Do you think it's because it's to big of an area?"

"That's probably it-" Cyprus was about to continue, but was interrupted by her phone.

"It's empty in the valley of your heart. The sun, it rises slowly as you walk. Away from all the fears, and all the faults you've left behind." She scrambled to find her phone, while The Cave by Mumford and Sons played, "The harvest left no food for you to eat. You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see. But I have seen the same. I know the shame in your defeat." She found it and opened it.

"What is it?" I asked and shifted so I could look at her better, making America extremely uncomfortable. "Gupta?" I asked, using Egypt's human name.

"Yeah, he says to turn around, and that his fake name is Niu." She said. We all looked behind her.

And sure enough, the pale Egyptian stood, like a stone, with Anubis, the black dog, sitting next to his feet.

"Niu!" She said happily and threw her entire body weight on him. "I can't believe it!" She said and hung off his arm.

Egypt only looked at her. I watched Anubis walk up to me and finally sit down so we were nose to nose.

The calm of us had lasted for a very long time. It stayed until our plane was supposed leave. A woman at the desk picked up a microphone and started speaking.

"Flight 138 to New York has been delayed. It will be a matter of hours until it gets here." She said and placed the phone-thingy back in place.

We all groaned, even Egypt, who'd spoken four words in the entire expanse of hours. It was seven, and we'd met there at three.

My eyelids became heavy, so I closed them. I decided to sleep, because the would have been the best way to waste time.

I was standing in the dark. I couldn't make out a single thing, but all of my body was clear as day. I moved around, trying to get a feel for my surroundings. I failed at tripped over my own feet.

"Netherlands..." My head snapped around as I saw Luxembourg walking towards me.

"Oh! Lux! Are you OK?" I asked desperately and looked at him up and down.

"Netherlands, you look hungry. Do you want anything to eat?" He asked. I looked at him, quizzically, but before I could respond, he plunged his hand into his chest and ripped away the skin, muscle, and bone. This revealed all of his organs, pumping blood and receiving oxygen. "What'll it be? My heart? My liver? How about my lung?" He wrapped his bloodied fingers around the white organ and started to pull at it. I started running, away, as fast and as far as I could. As soon as I didn't smell blood, I stopped and tried to figure out where I was.

"Big sister?" I spun to see Belgium, standing in her dress. "You look flustered."

"Good god, Belgium. Did you see what happened with Lux?" I asked, panting and frantic.

"You look thirsty." She said and pulled a knife from her belt. And again, before I knew what was happening, she drew her hand across both of her wrists. Blood splattered my face and shirt as I watched her fall. I turned to run again, but smashed directly into another form. I looked up to see a pair of loving green eyes.

"R-Romano!" I said, feeling my throat close up.

"You look cold." He said simply. He pulled out a lighter. I knew what would happen.

"NO!" I said as her bent over to light the ankle of his khaki pants aflame. I threw my self onto him and tears spilled from my eyes. My face was buried in his shoulder when I felt the itching, burning heat on my legs, which was already working it's way up our torso's. He fell beneath me, dead.

And that's how I spent the last moments of my life. Burning to death in a dank, dark hole, pounding on the chest of an Italian, begging for him to wake up.

I gasped as I bolted up, smashing my forehead into America's. I fell off the chair and held my head in my hands, in pain.

"That had to hurt." Cyprus said quickly. "And anyway, we're boarding."

FINALLY! ! !

A/N2: Oh no! I used the word "plaster" instead of band-aid! And that is English! Who cares.

Also, about Cyprus' ringtone. I don't own Mumford and Sons, just like I don't own Hetalia. If I did, FrUK would be cannon.

Lastly, I don't own the concept of Netherlands' dream. Mashima Hiro owns that. It's in Rave Master, I just flipped all of the characters, the order of the events, and the end.

That's all.