Author's Note: OVER FOUR HUNDRED FIFTY *explodes*
In other news, fan art! Was introduced to one for the last chapter at EmeraldEyesOfThunder .deviantart [dotcomslash] art/I-Love-You-Brother-314830034 . Check it out, and if you've been sneaking around making fan art, feel free to drop it in the reviews for us.
x3 I can't believe how popular this is getting...
Also, I'll be absent from computers during the week of the 22nd. I might have the next chapter up before then, but I'm not completely sure. So, be prepared for a lack of updates while I'm away frolicking.
Reviews~~~! Pretty please~~~! With tildes on top~~~!
Liechtenstein
I wake up around sunrise. After lingering curled up a while, I carefully sit up and look around. I don't see anyone, so I carefully climb down to the lower nest and check again. Still nothing but grass and leaves. I make sure everything's still in my pocket before climbing down.
Well, maybe it's more of a pouch than a pocket. This is—was—one of my nicer dresses, so it didn't have any pockets. But I can't just carry around all of the knives and guns and water bottles, and I can't leave anything behind, or it'll disappear. I'm still not sure what exactly happened to my shoes after I left them alone in the tree, but they're definitely gone now. That's all right. The mud really feels a lot nicer on my feet than they did. They were getting awfully torn up, too.
So now it's just my feet getting torn up, but it's not that bad. I can handle a few scratches, and I haven't been walking around much, anyway. Thanks to the rain, I haven't had to search for water recently. It ended about noon yesterday, though, so I only have one full plastic bottle now. But I drank a lot while the rain was pouring, so I think I should be able to manage a meal today.
Keeping my guard up, I continue through the trees until I reach a rotting log. I have to pry away some of the wood before I find a few squirming, whitish grubs. Carefully setting the wood down, I pick out a grub, squeeze out what's in it, and put it my mouth.
Eating these isn't a pleasant experience by any means, but food is food. And don't insects have more protein than meat, proportionally? So they're less trouble than trying to shoot anything down and cook, and they're still relatively nutritious.
Then, it doesn't make that much sense that Switzerland stopped me from eating them earlier. But... That was probably less about my health. He just didn't want to see me resorting to eating squirming insects.
After a minute to recover from the crunch and goop from the first grub, I ready another one and sigh. Brother... I know he didn't end up coming the day he said, but he's still coming. I know that much. He'd never leave me here, not when he can't even bear the sight of me eating maggots, not with other nations on the offensive. It has been a while, but he'll come. I have no reason to believe he won't.
I hope he's not working himself too hard, though. I'm not having much fun, but I'm doing all right. It rains often enough I haven't died of dehydration, and there are enough little bites to keep me from starving. Of course I'm hungry, but that's all right. It may have been a while, but it's nothing new to me. I'm still strong enough to look for food with guns in tow, so the situation's not that dire. I wish I could tell my brother that, just so he could calm down, because he must be imagining the worst right now.
But then, the worst wouldn't be me slowly starving, would it? That I've done before. That's slow and quiet, especially compared to what else might happen to me out here. What has happened.
This time the thought doesn't send my hand flying to the side of my neck. I guess it's been long enough for me to recover. Of course, I haven't had much to do here but sit and think it over, so that may have helped.
The main worry now, then, is something of the sort happening again. Japan won't come after me again, and I'm sure there are quite a few others who won't in the first place. I'm immensely grateful nations of that type were the ones that found me—what, three days ago?—hanging like that. It was very kind of them to help me down when killing me might be more advantageous to them.
I'm also grateful France didn't find me immobilized with my skirts over my head like that... He must have wandered off some other way after I dragged him from the tree the day Switzerland went home. And... yes. There's not much more to say about that.
I look around the area and then brace myself for the last grub I found. It goes down a little bit easier than the last two. After pawing through the wood a bit more, I obtain one more bite and then start back.
Though I must keep in mind that no matter what I expect of nations or what they've done at some point, they're dangerous. I can't let myself trust Estonia and Poland any more than I would trust Belarus. I can't afford to, especially in a situation like this. They're all my enemies and could change their minds and attack me at any time.
And I can't let myself die here. Of course, I don't like it and I can't help but be scared without my brother to protect me. But if he finally comes only to find me dead, he could be worrying for hours. And I've heard it can take even longer to come back if the damage is worse. I won't give my brother grounds for more stress than he already has. He may know I'm coming back, but if he can't even bear to watch me eat grubs, it would hurt so much worse to see me dead. And the last thing I would want to do is hurt him.
I keep my hands on a gun and my head on a swivel as I step quietly back towards my tree. I haven't found anyone yet, but I have to be vigilant. I haven't heard any other gunshots, so I have the fastest weapon. If someone comes for me, I'll be able to hit them first. I just have to find them first, too, and I'll be safe.
But I still have to get sort of lucky to hit them. Switzerland taught me how to fire a gun, but that was a long time ago, and I haven't really had the opportunity or the need to practice any more. But Urs spits out enough bullets at a time I should at least be able to scare anyone off if I don't lethally injure them.
Taking a deep breath, I approach my tree, bending to pick up some moss that's fallen down from one of the nests. I look around me, then carefully climb up, making sure no one's come into the tree since I was last here. There's still no sign of other nations, so I climb up into the top nest and settle down. Wiping a little mud off my feet with leaves, I pull my knees back in and sit.
Really, I don't like the idea of shooting nations myself. Killing them. I won't do it unless I really need to. But I will if I need to. It's terrible to die, but they're used to it. They can forgive me. I'd only do it to save my brother some pain, and surely they would accept that.
And there's still time. I haven't felt any sign that my immortality's fading, and I haven't seen anything unusual. I haven't really run into anyone but Estonia and Poland, but they seemed fine. Surely the situation can't be that serious if Poland wanted me to come with him for the sake of making dresses. It's been a few days since, but I still haven't felt any different. Hungrier, maybe, but that's hardly suspicious.
I take a careful sip from my second water bottle. It's certainly not as cold as it was as rainwater, but it still tastes much nicer than whatever else I've had to drink here. I might have to save a bit of it, until I can't get clean enough water with the other bottle. To have something to look forward to, if my brother doesn't come before then.
Putting the lid back on, I place the bottle back in my pocket and look around. I still don't see anyone. Although it's so hot now you'd have to be crazy to roam around much. I'll wait until 5:00 or so before I try to find more food or a clean puddle of water. It should be cool enough by then, or at least as cool as it gets in the daytime here.
But the sun's straight up in the sky now, and I won't be going anywhere. I'll just keep myself in the shade and keep an eye out for others. Just like every other day.
It's a while before I see anything move, and it's just a bird. The rustling made me draw a gun, but I don't shoot. There's no need to attract attention, and I doubt I'd hit it, anyway, not with a submachine gun.
I've just started to replace Urs in my pocket when I catch another flicker of motion. Withdrawing the gun again, I quiet my breathing and shift to look over. Something greenish is moving around behind a screen of trees, but I can't quite tell what. It looks tall enough to be a nation, but I can't tell through the leaves. Who was wearing green...?
When he passes into the little clearing by my tree, I can tell which nation he is. And the reason I don't remember him wearing green is because that's just his skin. The sight, along with the stench starting to diffuse, is enough to make me feel sort of ill. What... What on earth happened to him? Is he... sick? Gangrenous? I don't know... He's still able to move, but there's definitely something wrong with him. I can't let him get near me, in case it's contagious.
I ready the gun but don't aim it at Russia just yet. He's not looking at me. If he just goes along like he is, I don't need to make any noise. All I have to do is stay silent and let him pass, and I shouldn't have any trouble, now or later.
Holding my breath, I watch poised as he comes across the grass and mud. He's still just going forward, panting, adjusting the shirt thrown over his shoulder. He's not even looking around much. I think I should be safe.
He vanishes form my vision behind a clump of my tree's leaves. I wait a second for him to pass before cautiously repositioning myself to see him. He's leaning against the bottom of the trunk, fanning himself with his hand and plucking at his scarf to get air under it. Oh, can't you stop and rest somewhere else? Please?
Unable to keep my breath held, I exhale soundlessly and take another breath in. He's still leaning down there, wiping some sweat off his forehead. He looks less green now—maybe it was just the light. He still doesn't look healthy, though. I'm not going to climb down that side of the tree for a while. And I really don't want to shoot him him, because I'm certainly not going to drag him anywhere. He's probably too heavy, anyway. So I'll just let him pass, if he ever gets going again.
After a little bit more resting, he finally pushes himself back off the wood and takes a step forward. Then he looks over his shoulder—and then up.
Biting my lip to keep myself from gasping, I duck back behind the leaves.
"Hello?" His voice is a little off, but it's definitely him, and it sends little chills down my shoulders. I carefully position Urs in my hands and move back around to see if Russia's still looking for me. He has one hand on a branch and is trying to find a place to put his other one.
Not trying to keep my breathing silent anymore as it speeds up, I shuffle my legs to get in a stable position and then take aim. I can't really target his midsection from this angle, but his head should do just fine.
I'm actually going to fire this thing... Oh, this seems so wrong. But my brother isn't here to shoot for me, and I know Russia's out to kill me. This is my only real option.
I close my eyes and pull the trigger. The shots start to fire off deafeningly, and the recoil jerks my hands back so much the gun smacks my chin. With a cry, I let off the trigger, but my hands are shaking and my wrists are throbbing with pain, and I lose my grip altogether. By the time I'm aware it's no longer in my hands, it's fallen too far for me to reach out and grab.
Russia catches it. He's not dead. Why isn't he dead?
I pull back and am just able to see on little stream of blood on his neck. Did I just graze the side? But horizontally? Did I just miss altogether? What... What...
Managing to forget the pain in my wrists enough to put some weight on my hands, I scramble back to where he can't hit me. The other gun. Where's the other gun? I feel around the nest for a second before realizing it should still be in my pocket. As the branches on the other side of the tree creak, I pull out the rifle and try to remember how I'm supposed to fire it. Getting one sweaty hand by the trigger and another further up, I rest the end on my shoulder and prepare for Russia to get in range.
But he doesn't come up after a minute. Is—is he gone? Did he die? Did he just make off with the gun?
Not lowering the rifle, I stand up to get a better look. He's not on the ground that I can see. I lean forward a little to look past one leafy branch, and then I'm hit.
Something seems a little wrong, but I just watch Russia start to rise from beneath me until I fall back on my haunches. My head touches the nest, and then I register that I dropped the rifle. And then I feel the bullet holes through my torso. First it's just little burning spots and dampness where my dress is being soaked. But before I know it I'm screaming, shrieking, crying, and make it stop, it hurts so much, it hurts so much. I'm never shooting anyone, I'll never shoot anybody, I can't do this to anyone. How can it hurt this much, how can anything hurt this much? I can't... I can't...
After too long, after forever, the blazing pain starts to die down, but everything else is fading, too. No, don't let me die yet. Just stay like this a while, until Switzerland comes and saves me and patches me up. Don't die just yet, please. Even if it still hurts, hang on, you can't let him find you dead.
But I just can't breathe, and that terrible, terrible blackness floods over me.