Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 138

Canada sighed, glancing at the time. He didn't think that he could make any further preparations for the funeral. So now, he had nothing else to distract him from worrying over Serbia and the others.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He wanted to know what was going on with the others, but knew that attempting to call would not be wise. The last thing that he needed to do was ruin things for the others.

But the fact that they'd been gone so long… Canada was sure that they had been spotted. He just hoped that they would be able to get out without any casualties.

He looked up when he heard footsteps. Northern Ireland frowned, looking around.

"Where's Alistair?" Northern Ireland asked. "He's not in his room."

"He went with the Yugoslavians to try and rescue Bosnia and Herzegovina," Canada replied. "They've been gone a while. I'm worried."

Northern Ireland frowned, wrapping his arms tighter around himself.

"Is there any way we can help them?" Northern Ireland asked.

"I don't know," Canada sighed. "For all we know, things might be going okay, and our arrival would only distract them or alert the enemy. Unless they call for reinforcements, it's best not to do anything."

Northern Ireland observed Canada for a while.

"Serbia's with them, isn't he?" he asked. "That's why you seem so worried."

"Of course," Canada said. "I also… I get the feeling's something's wrong."

"Do you get these often?"

"Not really."

"Then I guess… All you can do is hope for the best." Northern Ireland sat down next to Canada and took both hands in his. "Matthew, you can't think negatively. How do you think Serbia's going to feel when he comes back and all you've been doing is worrying over him? You know how good he is. He and the others will get out. And they will be successful."

Canada smiled as he squeezed Northern Ireland's hands. He could only hope that the other was right.

…

Poland groaned. He suspected that he might have injured his spine during the fall. He couldn't move, but he could still hear the sounds of battle from above. He wondered if anyone would come and finish him off.

He simply stared at the ceiling, trying to determine what was happening upstairs. He heard Hungary's scream, but didn't know what she tried to say, or what was happening. He tried to move his eyes, but couldn't see anything that was happening.

A figure appeared in his field of vision, and his eyes widened. There was something different about him, but Poland would recognise him anywhere. He tried to speak, but his voice refused to come. Finland smiled.

"Don't try to talk," Finland said. "You hit your head pretty hard. That's the only reason why you can see me now."

Poland wanted to reach out to touch him, but he still couldn't move. Tears gathered in his eyes. He was so close, but he could do nothing.

"Feliks, I have to ask you to stop being reckless," Finland said. "You have no idea what's going on. And you don't want to end up dead. I don't know if Toris's gods would be able to save anyone else. But anyone that dies will end up being one of them. And they would really love to have one of us on their side."

Poland had no idea what Finland was referring to, but there was another matter that he had to worry about. The edges of his vision were starting to fade away, and he was afraid that he was about to pass out.

Finland gave a small smile, before he kissed Poland on the forehead. The tears fell as he felt the cold lips that somehow still felt warm.

"Look in Peru's house," Finland said. "There's an antidote there, and Peru isn't at home."

Poland didn't know what Finland was talking about, but he didn't have much time to think about it. His vision was starting to go dark, and despite his efforts, he couldn't hold on anymore. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Finland's sad smile.

…

Hungary stared in horror as Belarus came in range of her sword. Hungary tried to stop her swipe, but she couldn't stop her momentum. She could only scream in horror as her sword sliced through Belarus's neck.

She stared as Belarus fell to the ground. Beheading was one of the worst ways for a nation to die, and it was one of the most difficult to revive from. It was easier if the head was in close proximity of the rest of the body, but it was a hassle when the body was farther away.

She glared at Prussia, who was also staring with wide eyes. She roared, before launching an attack again. She didn't allow him a single chance to recover. She just wanted to punish him. She wanted to destroy her guilt.

And when she incapacitated Prussia, she would go after the person that had sent Belarus in the direction of her sword in the first place.

…

Ireland and Scotland paused in their battle as they panted for breath, the basement bearing many scars of their battle. They themselves were mostly unharmed, though Scotland had a burned soldier and Ireland had a singed knee.

"This is getting us nowhere," Ireland said. "I think we should switch tactics."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Scotland asked.

Ireland smirked before conjuring a sword made from green flames. Scotland pursed his lips, drawing his own sword. He summoned blue flames to counter Ireland's flames. Ireland's smirk widened.

"You know, I think I'm going to have fun," he said.

"And I'm going to have fun getting revenge on North's behalf," Scotland growled.

"By the way, how is he?"

"You fucked with his mind, and then he had to find out about it. How do you think he is?"

Ireland's smirk widened even more.

"Then I guess, when we're finished here, I would have to retrieve him," he said. "A lot of hard work went into making him."

In Scotland's opinion, that was the wrong thing to say, and that was exactly why Ireland said it. The time for banter was over. Sparks flew as their magical and magically enhanced swords clashed.

…

Haiti blinked as he watched Belarus fly backwards, and he flinched when Hungary's sword came down on her. He quickly turned away, knowing that the immediate danger was out of the way, and quickly went over towards Serbia. He watched as Croatia carved out Slovenia's heart, and he knew that the European had a dark cloud hanging over him after everything he learned. He would give him his space for a while, but offer his support.

For now, though, his attention would have to be devoted to Serbia.

Serbia was already unconscious but not yet dead. Haiti reached out with his magic to examine the wound, frowning when he realised that there was something wrong. Shaking his head, he started to focus on healing the wound.

Haiti looked up when Croatia approached, but continued to focus on the wound. For some reason, it seemed to be harder than normal.

"How is he?" Croatia asked.

"I don't know," Haiti admitted. "This wound is resisting my attempts to heal it."

Haiti looked up when he heard Croatia swear. He didn't understand the word, but the tone was universal.

"Slovenia said that his dagger was coated in a toxin," Croatia said. "While it won't permanently kill Serbia, it will put him in a coma, unless we can find the antidote, which is apparently not here."

Haiti clicked his tongue, before he looked back towards Hungary and Prussia's battle. He winced when he realised that it wouldn't be a good idea to try to approach. He couldn't even use his magic to interfere. First, there was a chance that he would hit Prussia, and second, he didn't think that he would be able to hold Hungary back.

"How's Macedonia?" Haiti asked, not removing his hand from Serbia's chest as he tried to heal his ally.

"She's only temporarily dead," Croatia sighed. "I'm going to see if I can find Bosnia and Herzegovina."

Haiti nodded, trying to focus as much energy as possible into healing Serbia, but it wasn't looking good. He could already imagine having to explain this to Canada, who was already working on a funeral. This would not be good.

He was distracted by the sound of a door opening and a snarl. He turned around to see Croatia stepping backwards with Bosnia's hands wrapped around his throat.

"Mirsad!" Herzegovina shouted, trying to pull Bosnia's hands free. "Let him go!"

Haiti pulled away from Serbia, ready to help Croatia. He saw Bosnia blink before the snarl on his face disappeared, going blank for a while before he became horrified. He released Croatia and stepped back.

"I… I didn't mean to…" Bosnia said. His hands were shaking. "Slovenia… I-I heard him s-say… p-programming…"

"I-it's okay," Croatia croaked, rubbing his throat. "Bulgaria said that the Yugoslav Wars are fresh in your mind. And I know it's not going to help now, but I am so sorry about everything."

"Slovenia manipulated all of us," Herzegovina said, before she looked around. Her eyes lingered on Slovenia, Macedonia and Serbia. "Are… Are any of them…?"

"Slovenia is dead," Croatia announced. "Macedonia only seems temporarily dead. And Serbia…"

Haiti turned back towards Serbia and placed his hand on his chest. He flinched when he realised that Serbia had slipped away, though his soul was still present, so he wasn't completely gone. But if Croatia was right about the toxin…

Haiti looked back towards the battle between Hungary and Prussia. Prussia had cried out in pain, and Haiti could see that Hungary's sword was buried in Prussia's chest, and his own sword was out of reach. She pulled her sword out before turning to them, cold fury blazing in her eyes. Haiti shuddered when her eyes fell on him, and he realised that she was still angry about Belarus.

"Shit," Croatia muttered, holding up Slovenia's sword. "Haiti, can you use your magic to take them to Canada's house?"

"What?" Haiti asked, turning towards Croatia.

"Macedonia and Serbia are vulnerable, and I don't think Bosnia or Herzegovina can fight right now. Get them out of here now!"

Haiti hesitated for just a moment longer, glancing towards Prussia. He knew that he would need to get those unable to fight out of danger. He could always come back for the others. And so he muttered a spell, making sure to include Prussia and Poland as well. Everything faded to black just before Hungary lunged towards them.

…

Bulgaria groaned as he opened his eyes. His head was killing him. What happened?

He looked around and groaned again when he recognised the area he was in. He was in Slovenia's hidden office, and neither Croatia nor Haiti was nearby. He swore before pushing himself to his feet. He needed to see if there was any way for him to salvage the situation.

He paused when he reached the outer office. He could hear the sounds of battle, but they seemed far quieter than they were supposed to. He felt panicked when he realised that he could only hear one battle.

His mind immediately shifted to Ireland. He was downstairs. Was he alright? He scowled, before running in the direction of the basement. He sighed in relief when he heard the familiar sounds of battle, and after a few steps realised why he couldn't hear their battle upstairs. Their weapons seemed to be made from some sort of magic. And he realised that the victor would most likely be whoever was exhausted last.

Bulgaria wanted to help, but he knew that any assistance he could offer would be unnecessary and unwanted. After all, what would he be able to do against Scotland wielding asword of blue flames? And besides, this was Ireland's brother. This was as personal as it could get. In fact, the only battle that would be more personal was a battle with an alter ego. And Bulgaria had done that a long time ago, with Ireland's help.

He watched for about a minute, seeing that neither seemed to have a particular disadvantage. His eyes shifted to the side when he noticed a wardrobe door opening.

Montenegro poked her head out, and he took the time to examine the rest of the basement. And then he flinched. Slovenia would not be happy. Well, it would seem that this was at least the second phase of the battle.

He shifted his gaze to Montenegro again and decided that she wasn't going anywhere, and it would be risky for him to try to get past the two brothers. Instead, he decided to see what was happening upstairs.

Bulgaria noticed a bloodstain on the stairs, but he couldn't see whoever it belonged to, and so mostly ignored it in favour of seeing what was happening upstairs. He winced when he saw Belarus, her head separated from her body. Oh, Hungary wouldn't be very happy.

And indeed, he saw her battling someone further along the corridor. It took him a moment to recognise Croatia, who looked desperate. That was normal, considering he was clashing with a seriously pissed off Hungary. And then his eyes shifted further to the side, and he felt sick.

Slovenia was slumped against the wall, and Bulgaria could sense that Slovenia wasn't alive anymore. He also noticed that Bosnia's room was open. And Haiti wasn't in sight.

It wasn't hard to imagine that Haiti might have used his magic to get the rest of them away. So then, that left Scotland, Montenegro and Croatia.

This was seriously not good.

He quickly moved Belarus's body to the nearest bedroom before retrieving her head. At least that would be out of the way. And then he realised that he couldn't go anywhere near Hungary and Croatia's battle.

And so he went back downstairs and towards Slovenia's telephone. The only thing he could do right now was to report the situation.

He was just glad that he wouldn't be present when Vatican found out about Slovenia.

…

Northern Ireland and Canada looked up when they noticed new arrivals. Canada stood up when he saw Haiti and the nations around him, focusing in particular on the nation in front of Haiti.

"What happened?" Canada demanded, going over towards Serbia.

"Slovenia stabbed him with a dagger soaked in some sort of toxin," Haiti explained. "I tried to heal the wound, but it didn't want to work."

Canada felt ice going down to his stomach.

"What does this toxin do?" Canada asked.

Haiti didn't answer. It was Herzegovina that stepped forwards.

"Croatia said that, according to Slovenia, the toxin is designed to put Damjan in a coma," she said.

Canada's knees buckled, and he quickly caught himself on the back of the couch. He supposed he should have considered himself lucky. It was bad enough that he had to arrange a funeral for his friend. He didn't think that he would be able to handle arranging a funeral for his lover. But that changed nothing. He couldn't seek any comfort from his lover.

He turned his attention to the other downed nations. Macedonia, Prussia and Poland. All three of them were temporarily dead. And there were still three others missing. But the two that they had gone to rescue were there, at the very least.

Still, it wasn't much of a success.

"Where's Scotland?" Northern Ireland demanded, stepping closer.

"He was still fighting with Ireland in the basement," Haiti said, before he stood. Canada watched as Haiti swayed, grabbing onto Herzegovina. "Merde…"

"Are you okay?" Canada asked.

"I'm just a little exhausted," Haiti explained. "That last spell took a lot out of me."

"Will you be able to go back for Scotland?" Northern Ireland asked.

"I just need to rest a bit. And I need some sugar. That's the best way for me to get some energy."

"Will a bottle of maple syrup help?" Canada asked.

"Oui, since I know you have a lot."

After sorting out Haiti, Canada and Northern Ireland worked on getting the downed nations to beds. Herzegovina was whispering to Bosnia, who was cradling his head. Canada didn't know what Requiem had done to Bosnia, but he suspected that it would take a while before Bosnia could recover from it.

…

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Romano muttered as he paced in their office. Italy was looking at his brother, his face blank but his fury burning in his eyes. "What are we going to do now?"

"We attack Brazil tomorrow," Italy said. "That doesn't change. And we broaden our horizons. We still have those bombs. We attack every single one of them."

"They won't feel it."

"They will if we attack enough cities. And then there's still that group staying in Egypt. He's complaining about their presence being annoying."

"Then we'll tell him to deal with all of them. And their soldiers. They think it's a trap. So instead, we should turn it against them."

"And we know where Canada's base is. We can easily attack them too. Our little spy said that there are other people there. Kids. Might be those British counties. We can tie up some loose ends."

Romano grinned, a dark idea forming in his head.

"I think we should send Alvora a series of videos," Romano said. "We still have their regions. And I think we should get rid of them."

Italy chuckled.

"And I think we should save Portugal's for last," he said. "But I want to have him somewhere we can watch him. I would love to see the look on his face."

"And what about Canada's provinces?" Romano said, grin still in place. "They probably thought that they were safe from us. Why don't we prove them wrong?"

"And I'm sure Angelo would love to be involved."

"Of course. What better therapy is there?"