The plane was plummeting with frightening speed even as smoke poured out of the cockpit and into the cabin. The crew and passengers alike had quickly donned the yellow emergency oxygen masks that had dropped from the ceiling after the electrical fire started in the plane's cockpit. They were now in a race against time - dropping desperately to a low altitude so the plane could make an emergency landing before the blaze consumed them all.

It took every bit of willpower Germany had to keep from reaching over and grabbing Italy's hand. The smaller nation was whimpering and shaking in fear even as he clutched at his knees while bent over in the brace position. For his part, Germany was grimly contemplating what would be less painful for them: death by fire or possibly drowning? They were low enough now that it was conceivable for the Nations to force the emergency exit open and to jump out. The impact with the water could kill them but there was an equal chance they would merely break a few bones. With all three of them working together, it was possible that they would be able to swim to safety somewhere to await rescue. The biggest problem with that plan, however, was America. Germany doubted he would be able to get the other Nation to abandon the plane's crew.

The two stewards were in similar brace positions in the seats closer to the cockpit. "Brace, brace, stay down!" they chanted, over and over, focusing solely on making sure their passengers stayed as safe as possible under the terrifying circumstances.

Alfred had been sitting opposite of Germany and Italy when their flight was plunged into chaos. Subsequently, he now found himself in an alternative brace position, his feet planted against the floor and his head tilted back as he pressed himself firmly into his seat. If he looked down his nose, he would be able to see Germany and Italy, but he didn't want to. Didn't want to see the fear on Italy's face or the grim determination on Germany's. Didn't want to face the very real possibility of getting either of them hurt or killed because of this stupid trip. Didn't want to think about how the crew might not survive. Didn't want one more life to be lost because of him.

So, he kept his eyes tightly shut, cursing inwardly that what was supposed to be a relatively lighthearted jaunt across the Pacific had taken such a terrible turn. As anguish continued to build within him, Alfred wished desperately he hadn't dropped his phone when the plane had suddenly lurched, sending the stewards tumbling to the ground and every loose object suddenly turning into an airborne threat. They might crash and die in a fiery death, leaving everyone they knew to wonder what had happened.

He really hoped they didn't crash.

Surely they'd turned back to Hawaii. It was the closest airport and the emergency crews there were top notch. But a small voice in the back of his head was screaming at him, insisting that they hadn't banked enough to reverse course. He didn't know where they were or where the pilot and copilot were taking them or even if they would manage to remain conscious long enough to get them down safely.

"Landing!" a voice suddenly yelled from the cockpit.

"Brace!" yelled another.

Alfred's stomach lurched as the plane quickly descended. He wanted to open his eyes and look around and yet he just couldn't-

The plane slammed hard onto the ground, bouncing up and down several times before the wheels had enough traction to grip the ground. The engines screamed as the brakes were suddenly and abruptly applied, sending everyone flying against the limits of their seat belts. The cloth straps cut deeply into their flesh, the sudden change in velocity forcing their heads and necks to jerk painfully.

Then, the plane began to slow. The smoke filling the cockpit was starting to abate, the overworked air filtration system finally getting the upper hand on the dark, foul smelling haze.

When they finally came a stop, there was a moment where no one moved, too overcome by the terror of their near crash. Italy was crying, and even Germany sounded shaken, his breath coming in stuttered stops and gasps.

He had to move. They had to get off, right now. If the fire spread, the entire plane would be engulfed in minutes.

Alfred opened his eyes, forcing his pain ridden body to start moving as he clumsily grappled with his seatbelt, struggling with shaking hands to undo what was normally a simple buckle.

Movement.

He looked up, saw the copilot looming into view next to them-

A glint of metal in his hand-

There was a loud crack, blinding pain splitting his head.

Then there was nothing.

Canada groaned suddenly, his hand moving up to his head.

Next to him, Prussia immediately stopped typing and touched his arm.

"What is it?" the other Nation asked in alarm.

"Just- just a sudden headache," Canada responded. He bit back a whimper. He hated these migraines. They were so random and came out of nowhere. They'd been a plague he'd endured for as long as he could remember. "These happen sometimes. For absolutely no reason," he added in a shaky voice.

"What do you need?" Prussia shoved his laptop aside, nearly sending it toppling off the table.

Unnoticed by both nations, Jennifer looked at Canada with alarm. She'd been developing her own theories about America . . . and Canada. This could be a simple migraine storm. But when it came to the personifications, coincidences and happenstance were rare. No, the connection between America and Canada was unusually close, something America had admitted only two weeks ago when a massive wildfire had broken out in Saskatchewan and he'd been struck with a sudden fever. If the events in one nation were truly affecting the other, Canada's sudden migraine could mean America was in trouble. "I need to get out of here, now," she realized.

"I think," Canada said in an unsteady voice, "I need to lie down."

Prussia went into action, carefully wrapping an arm around Canada and helping him lie down.

Once Canada was under the covers, Prussia gently pulled off his glasses, folding them and setting them down carefully on the nightstand. The precious folder with the photocopied letter from George Washington was then set down next to the glasses. Prussia glanced at Jennifer and wordlessly gestured to the door. After she nodded and began to quietly gather up her belongings, he hurried over to the windows and drew the curtains, engulfing the room in darkness.

On the bed, Canada had pulled the pillow over his eyes as a makeshift eyemask, one without an elastic band creating pressure around his head. The bed dipped slightly and Kumajiro suddenly curled up at his side, both a comforting warmth and a desperately needed anchor outside of the sudden pounding pain boring through his head.

"Your phone is next to the bed," Prussia murmured, matching words to actions. He'd made sure the device was on silent before setting it down - the last thing Birdie needed was England or someone calling to harass him. "Do you need anything?"

"Excedrin. Double dose," Canada grunted. "Bathroom counter."

As Jennifer slipped out of the room, Prussia darted into the bathroom and retrieved the pills Canada had requested, as well as a glass of water. Returning to Canada's side, the other nation sat up briefly to swallow the pills before lying back down.

"I'll be back in a little while," Prussia promised. "You rest." With one final gentle pat on the stricken nation's shoulder, he grabbed the laptop from the table, hurried to the door, and, after verifying he had still had a keycard, left the room.

Ms. Williams was standing in the hallway, looking at the door with a worried expression. "I wasn't aware Nations could suffer from migraines," she stated quietly turning to face him.

"We don't," he admitted. He stared at the door, his heart aching for the nation suffering on the other side. "We get headaches like anyone else but-" he hesitated. "I haven't heard of anything like this before, not for a country as big and strong and unified as Canada. The only countries to suffer from some kind of chronic condition are ones who, well, who have homes that are not good." A memory stirred in Prussia's mind. A small body, wracked with illness but trying so desperately to be strong.

"So either something terrible has happened in Canada or it's something else," Jennifer concluded.

Prussia's head turned, his eyes filling with suspicion. Stepping forward, he towered over her menacingly, forcing her against the wall.

"What do you know?" he demanded.

Jennifer stared back, unflinching. "Nothing with certainty," she responded, "I have only theories. You know everything I know. In any case," she continued in a brisk voice, "we need to continue our work. Canada will be most upset if the meeting with England and France is unsuccessful because we didn't bother to finish."

Prussia moved in, completely invading Jen's personal space. "That's not an answer," he growled in a low voice

"It's the only one I can give you as long we stay here," she replied evenly, nodding towards each end of the hallway.

For a few moments, Prussia remained, unmoving. He'd lived for centuries in the midst of court intrigue, and right now his current situation brought all those old memories rushing back. She knew something he didn't, and unfortunately that put her in control. He hated all this cloak and dagger shit.

"I'm sure there's a conference room we can use," Prussia finally said, stepping back. "I will not leave the hotel while Canada is unwell," he added in a pointed voice.

"Of course," Jennifer agreed. "Shall we?"

In the end, it only took about ten minutes for the hotel staff to set up a small conference room for their use. After they had secured the door and settled down on opposite sides of a small round table, Prussia began setting up his laptop to continue the task of recording his memories of the Revolutionary War.

The Germanic nation cursed suddenly under his breath when he realized he didn't have a power cord for the computer. The battery had already lost half its power. Well, hopefully it would last the time they would be spending in this small, windowless room.

As Prussia opened his computer and logged back in, Jennifer pulled a small tablet out of her briefcase. As she awakened the device with one hand, she was dialing her phone with the other. Once the call connected and the phone began to ring, she hit the Speaker button on the screen and set it down on the table.

"State Department, how may I direct your call?" a voice suddenly answered.

"This is Jennifer Williams, I need to get a status update. Authorization Foxtrot Mike Four Whiskey Alpha Five Quebec Zulu."

"One moment."

There was a brief moment of silence before the line was picked up again. A new voice spoke up: "What package do you need?"

"Thunderbird and Nanuk," Jennifer replied. "I need a full status update."

Across the table Prussia raised his eyebrows at the code names.

"Thunderbird is in flight and on course. Do you require verbal confirmation?"

"Yes, immediately," Jennifer insisted. The room was filled with a sudden tension. If America truly was safe, then what had happened to Canada?

"Verbal confirmation request is in progress," the unknown voice announced. "We will update on Thunderbird's current status once we have more information. General status is positive, no changes over the last month." The voice paused and in the background, the listeners could just make out the sound of typing. "Nanuk has not left the nest. Visuals are obstructed, no other source of intelligence. General status for Nanuk is still Condition Yellow. Fires are spreading in expected patterns and evacuations are proceeding as planned but no other notable changes to conditions." The voice paused again. "Wait one."

The line suddenly went quiet. Jennifer took a deep breath and looked at Prussia. "Nothing has happened in either Canada or America that could cause either of them to be in bad health," she explained quietly.

A sudden electronic tone suddenly sounded from the phone. The unknown voice suddenly returned. "Verbal contact with Thunderbird's flight established. All is normal, tracking is on course."

"Thank you," Jennifer replied. Without another word, she reached out and jabbed the End Call button. "So, they're both fine," she concluded.

"Yeah, if you can call a bizarre chronic illness fine," Prussia snapped back. He growled and threaded his fingers through his short hair. He hated this, hated seeing people he lo- cared about in pain. And this time he didn't even know why. Which meant he couldn't do anything to fix it!

"We'll figure it out," Jennifer promised. "It's my job to help America, and I know he'll want to make sure Canada is safe and healthy. But for now, we have work to finish."

Prussia sighed. "Ja, ja, ja," he agreed. Suddenly morose, he reluctantly returned to the document where he was recording his memories of training the rebelling American soldiers. Scattered throughout the document was America.

If this didn't work, Prussia promised himself silently, he would take matters into his own hands. Canada (and America) would be safe no matter what.

Far from Washington, a swell of satisfaction swept through the man watching the downed plane roll into the dilapidated hangar. The landing had been magnificent and appropriately dramatic for the beginning of such an important operation. The jet, angled sharply down, shooting towards the battered runway. As the nose jerked level with the ground, the wheels rebounded off the concrete, sending the entire machine bouncing back into the air, over and over again. Finally, the squeal of rubber finally gripping the cracked concrete runway rent the air as the brakes caught, bring the aircraft to a slow halt.

It wouldn't be long now. This would make up for the failure in Austin three months ago. What they were going to do here - it would allow them to change the world.

The door along the far wall clicked open and the soft squeak of rubber-soled boots sounded in the small room he'd claimed as his command center.

"The packages are being unloaded," the newcomer reported in a cool, controlled voice. "There was query from D.C. about the flight. Our mole reported all was clear. We will have at least twelve hours before the hijacking is detected."

"That will be more than enough time."