Chapter Thirty-eight

"Malta! Malta, are you okay?"

She finally recognized her conscience when she felt the cold bars of the cell room behind her back and heard the voices clear all around her. The annoying buzz in her ears ceased once she opened her eyes, flinching back from the faint light of the basement room. Her eyes eventually sharpened, so that she could see the figures of the six nations gathered around her and discern them from one another. It was almost like waking up from a nightmare, but she knew that what she had just seen was no nightmare.

Kneeling to her far right, Canada sighed in relief. "You're back. Good." They both knew that his words meant nearly nothing, and only hid another meaning that those around them wouldn't understand. If only I'd stayed a little while longer… "You were there just barely longer than I was, so I thought something had happened."

Malta was barely aware of trying to stand, but being pushed back down to the ground by America and being told to stay seated. She was too focused on the memory, wishing she had looked close enough to read Andorra's lips when she had gone deaf. It was actually…the second world…

Japan noticed the look of startled contemplation on her face and crouched down beside her, trying to unravel what that look meant. "Malta-chan, what's the matter? Is something wrong?"

"They weren't just hypothetical." Canada spoke for her, keeping his eyes on the ground as he did. "All of those things we saw…they were past experiences, or the future… All of them. They're…they're our own memories! …Then what number is this world? How many times have we lost our friends? How many times was it…?"

America's face turned from worried to blank in no time flat. "…What? What're you talking about, bro?"

"You mean," Russia supplied, "how many times have we come here?"

Yugo… You'd better not be too involved in this…for your own sake…

"Hey, are you alright?" England stood to the side, examining the baffled, shocked expressions of Malta and Canada. "What did you two just see? You both look a bit pale."

Malta shook herself from her thoughts, refocusing her eyes and trying to listen to the questions directed at her. "…Sorry. I just want to see Yugo as soon as possible. I know she's alright, but still…" She climbed to her feet, nearly losing balance at first but steadying herself on the bars behind her. The others took this as a sign to start heading back to the safe room, and soon they were all filing through the door and starting the journey

I only saw a few pasts and I already feel like I'm going to fall apart… If I don't tell them, I won't be able to stand it. It's just too painful. I can't keep this all bottled up, or I'll go…

iNsAne…

-x-

Time: 16:58

-x-

"We're back~!"

Russia's call as the group entered the safe room wasn't what caused the nations standing by to flock over to them in interest. No, it was simply the fact that they were alive, unharmed, and more likely than not bearing news is some form or another. The only ones who didn't surround the group were the ones already preoccupied with Yugoslavia's recovery, Yugoslavia herself included. England ended up joining this group as soon as the other dispersed.

The first thing Italy did (after babbling a bit to Germany) was run up to Malta, asking animatedly how everything had gone and what they may have found that could help Yugoslavia's memory. "She woke up suddenly while you all were gone and started muttering something about…umm…" He had to think for a moment before the right words came to mind. "…Ryuuzu, that's it! And she kept saying have to get out, have to get out. It was pretty creepy…"

"We just got her to go back to sleep," came a voice from the kitchen. A moment later, Wales appeared, her hair tied back, wiping her wet hands on a small, old towel. "I can't tell, but it seems like she's doing a little bit better now. Italy was definitely talking with her a lot –" The Italian beamed at the thought of being useful. "– so she probably remembers a bit more now."

Across the room, France announced that food was ready and that dinner would be served shortly. Everyone started gravitating toward the tables, but out of the corner of her eye, Malta noticed someone sitting still on one of the beds, their head bent, their eyes locked onto the floor. A blanket was wrapped tightly around their shoulders, hiding their clothes from view, but it was instantly obvious when she saw the bright white bandages wrapped around their head, half-covered by dark blonde fringe.

Malta sat down on the bed beside them, glancing at her companion's face for any sign of emotion, yet she only found nothing. "Hey. I thought you were asleep."

"I never fell asleep." Her eyes not moving from the ground beneath her, Yugoslavia pulled the blankets closer around her. "You are all talking as if I am not even hear. I am not deaf."

"…You seem to be doing a little better. Do you remember any more?"

"A little, I suppose. Mostly names and events. But nothing is falling into place." She didn't seem very keen on speaking, paranoia leaking into her voice. She could have been talking to her best friend, a doctor, an enemy, anyone. "Italy keeps talking to me, so I remember a little from the past."

"Speaking of the past…" Malta reached into her pocket, her fist wrapping around the letter stashed there from the basement. "Do you have a minute? You don't look busy."

They walked over to the chairs lined up outside the bathroom door – Yugoslavia had a horrible limp, favoring her right leg, and had to hold onto Malta's shoulder to keep up – gaining the attention of several of the eating nations in the process. She could feel their gazes locked on her as she walked, but Malta kept speaking nevertheless. "Well, I have a letter addressed to you. It was in that crate in the basement. I want you to read it out loud."

Yugoslavia sat down and took the paper from her, staring at the words on the front of the envelope. You will know.

"How much do you remember of what happened in this mansion, Yugo?"

"…Probably half of it, but everything is all out of order." She glanced up, not at Malta's face, but at the ceiling above her. "Why?"

"All the more reason to read it. I didn't look at it, but I have an idea you'll find it helpful."

Her face staying as hard as stone, she ripped the envelope open and unfolded the paper in front of her, staring at the first line and the script it was written in. This is my…handwriting… "To the me…"

To the me who lives at some point in time and who is not alone,

Once again, I have made some mistakes, and also some progress. Meanwhile, I finally, but slowly, began to learn to rely on my friends. I was constantly afraid that everyone would blame me for dragging them into this. I thought that they would hate me, or be appalled by me, or get mad at me, and then leave me...

But then I was told that I had the wrong idea.

They were very mad at me. It hurt so much. Not that they hit me, but it really hurt. I finally figured it out, but I can not pass this memory on to my next self. Unfortunately, I will lose my life yet again.

That is why I am writing a letter. Say thanks to Italy. And tell them the truth. I am sure that they will get mad, but it is not that they hate you or think you are a pain. Why did you not rely on your friends sooner? What are friends for? That is what they told me, and that is what they are going to tell you, too.

I am sure I will cry. And then...

Yugoslavia paused, choking on the words of the letter she had just been given. She couldn't find the strength to finish it, even though there was only a line left. The letter gave her doubts, but it also gave her an odd feeling that she hadn't truly felt in what felt like centuries: hope. But was it really that simple? Rely on my friends? Shouldn't they all hate her by now, for everything? The thought was so simple that it made her head hurt.

"Yugo?" Malta glanced expectantly at her friend a few moments after she drew silent. A great number of thoughts went through her mind, but she barely voiced any of them. "We've all been thinking about this, wondering what we're going to do now… What do you want to do?"

What do I want to do? There were so many options, most of them too far-fetched to ever say out loud. Go home. Live normally again. Pretend none of this ever happened. So Yugoslavia remained quiet, only offering a shrug in response.

"…Not like right now. I meant once we get out of here." Malta gave her a bright smile. "On our way back up here, America said that we should throw a party, and Japan offered to have it at his house."

A party? …That sounds like fun…

"He said that he has to work late, so we should all get there late at night. We'd probably all be tired by then, so I think we should sleep soon afterward on that day."

A second voice joined Malta's from across the room. It was Japan, carrying a few plates of food from the kitchen to the tables. He must have heard every word. "I have a kitchen garden. I could get up earlier than usual the following morning and go there to pick vegetables."

"Hey, that's a nice idea!" America called from the back table, waving a hand comically in the air. "I'll try to get up early and help you, too!"

An amused chuckle passed through the room at the American's antics, staying behind even when Wales started speaking. "Yes! And once you two get back, we can make breakfast!"

That's my cue! China skirted the stacks of supplies just outside the kitchen and grinned wide. "I'll help, too! And America can wake up those who are still sleeping!"

"We should all go out somewhere, too!" Andorra took a seat in the empty chair at Malta's right side, looking over her to beam at the ex-nation.

In the background, Prussia had rallied America and started chanting, "Disneyland! Disneyland! Disneyland!"

"I suppose I can refrain from hitting on anyone at least for that occasion," France offered with a flamboyant wave of the hand.

"I'm sure a day or two won't be enough," Malta stated, receiving nods and smiles in response from nearly everyone. "Yeah! Maybe we could go shopping!"

England strode over to the quickly-forming crowd, pushing his way through to be closer to the wall. "Yes, that sounds wonderful! I could take a look t the suits!"

The statement almost got a tiny laugh out of Yugoslavia, but she held it in. He is so British.

"I want some clothes to wear while I'm at Japan's place," Russia added, looking like he was trying to find a word. "What was it called, again? Yukata? Let's all buy one!"

"Ve~ I can't wait! When we get back to Japan's house, we can have a banquet!" Italy was talking so animatedly that you'd think he was talking about anything other than food and parties. …Then again, he is Italian.

"With food from all around the world!" Canada looked thoughtful for a moment. "Let's see, what should I make…?"

"Vodka!"

"Wurst!"

"Beir!"

"Hamburgers!"

"PASTAAA~!"

Yugoslavia felt their expectant stares burn into her face. The sudden attention made her want to curl up and hide somewhere, but a comforting arm slipped around her shoulders, telling her that everything would be okay. She was faintly aware of the Brit standing beside her. "…I suppose I could make something… Potica, maybe, or banitsa…"

"And then we'll all sleep together in a huddle," Russia gushed. It was obvious to tell that he was enjoying this.

Japan added, "Then I'll lay out the futons in the other room. You can go to sleep whenever you like."

"Yeah! It'll be fun. Really fun. That's why, Yugo…" Malta cut herself off, poking her friend in the arm to further get her attention. "That's why we all have to escape. With everyone here, without losing a single person."

Crushed under the weight of thirteen pair of eyes, Yugoslavia glanced down at the letter in her lap, scanning over the last sentence for the first time.

I am sure I will cry. And then…

Look around yourself.

She felt as if she was floating on air, the permanent weight on her shoulders lifting away after an eternity of holding her down. Dumbfounded, at a loss for words, she looked up again, her eyes scanning the faces around her. They weren't angered, disappointed, or disgusted. Their expressions were nothing like what she expected: they were all shades of relief, reassurance, and happiness, all their eyes aimed at her, all their smiles meant for her. Was it possible? Was it possible for them to actually want her back? Was it possible that they actually, finally, had a chance to escape?

The others saw Yugoslavia open her mouth to speak and freeze suddenly, her eyes distant and darting around wildly. Her whole body tensed in her chair, and they almost didn't have a chance to catch her before she collapsed to the ground. They were shocked into silence, just until England remembered what had nearly happened just hour before. "Y! Yugoslavia, are you okay?"

His question barely registered in her mind. Yes, she was okay. She was better than okay – she just didn't realize it yet. All that she noticed were her forgotten life flashing before her eyes and sudden churning in her stomach. Despite this, she nodded weakly.

"You need to eat," Malta insisted, heaving her friend back to her feet. "You haven't eaten since this morning, and with all the blood you lost…"

"Ve~ I'll go get her something!" Italy chirped, quickly striding away from the crowd on his way to the kitchen. Not many seemed to catch the oddly frightened tone in his voice.

Malta and Andorra took places at either side of the exhausted ex-nation and helped her limp back to her bed with England closely following. She looked weaker than before, her internal pain cracking her mask of emotionlessness as she collapsed onto the sheets.

This observation was noted as the remaining nations gathered around the tables to eat, a few making one last run to the kitchen to gather the last of the food. They decided to leave her alone to rest for a while as they debated what to do next. But their eyes never left her.

They didn't notice Italy standing in the kitchen, watching them with the same weariness in his amber eyes that Yugoslavia possessed.

-x-

For just a moment, everything went dark. The silence all around extended longer than it should have, causing nothing but sweat on the brow of the two-man audience. The only thing that kept the darkness from driving their fragile minds were the voices, the voices of the past, of the future, that told of new beginnings, uncertain endings, and anything in between.

"C'mon, you can't get rid of us that easily!"

"We're also doing everything we can out here."

"I wonder if Malta and Andorra will get mad at me…"

"I am sorry. I guess I lost more memories than I thought…"

"…Yeah, it was you. But I chose to run on them."

"Do you think he's written about everything he's gone through so far?"

-x-

Players: 14

Survivors: 14

Missing: 0

Deceased: 0

-x-