Canada was sleeping on the couch. After his panic attack, the agent that was with him managed to calm him down and put him to sleep there.
But his uneasy slumber was interrupted by ringing of a phone.
Canada slowly sat up, groggily rubbing one eye, watching as the agent picked up the apartment phone.
"Hello… ah sorry, I am agent Clarksson. I am here to protect Mr. Canada. Oh, okay, I will put him on," was the agents side of conversation.
He turned to Canada and handed, "It's your aunt Claudia."
Canada snatched the phone, "Ah, tante Claudie. Je vais bien. Je suis venu avec Alfred, il doit aider à trouver des survivants. Je suis rentré, mais personne n'était là. J'avais peur que quelque chose de mal arrive. Eh? Bébé? Est-ce que la maman et le bébé vont bien? Ah, d'accord, je vais rester ici."
(AN my French is not so good, so I used translator, so feel free to correct it, but I wanted it to say this:
Oh, aunt Claudie. I am fine. I came with Alfred, he is helping finding surivors. I came home, but nobody was here. I thought something bad happened. Eh? Baby? Is mom and baby okay? Oh, okay, I will stay here.)
Canada put down the phone and started to play with his hands nervously.
"I gather that they are okay?" agent Clarksson put his hand gently on Canada's shoulder.
Canada nodded, "Yeah, my mom… when she saw… news… got so stressed out that she went into labor and she and aunt Claudie are in hospital. I… I have a baby sister now."
The agent sat down beside him, "Hey, it's gonna be okay. They are not in any danger."
Canada nodded again.
"Hey," he said quietly, "Can we… turn on the news?"
Agent stared for a few seconds.
"Sure, but if it gets too much, we turn it off, okay?" he said finally.
Canada quickly grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.
There, plain as day were the news of the tragedy. Canada was watching with eyes filled with horror. He just hoped Alfred was okay.
Finally, the aftermath was shown, and quite a few shots was Alfred leading the rescue efforts.
Canada sighed in relief.
-APH-APH-APH-
Alfred was hardly standing, but he couldn't give up just yet. He heard so many cries of help. He could still go on.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see tired looking Austria.
"Come on Amerika, let's take a break," said Austria.
Amerika shook his head, "Not yet…"
Austria sighed, "Alfred, it's after midnight. You have been at this for hours. You NEED rest. Just point them in general direction and get some sleep, or you will get sick. You can come back in the morning."
Amerika looked like he wanted to protest again, but Austria stopped him.
"That wasn't a request, but an order," he glared at the younger nation.
Then he pulled a small box and a water bottle from the pocket of his coat.
"Here, some sleeping pills," he handed the items to the blond nation.
Amerika blinked, but didn't argue anymore. He took a pill from the box, threw it inside his mouth and quickly washed down with the water.
He turned to the nearest firefighter, and pointed towards a spot in the rubble, "There… at least three people should be relatively near there."
The firefighter nodded and ran away to delegate the information to others.
Amerika turned back towards Austria, who was now crouching in front of him.
"Come, I will give you piggy back ride to our accommodation," he told Amerika.
Amerika would have protested again, but he was feeling the events of the day, together with the sleeping pill taking effect, made him already very sleepy and he could barely see further from his nose. So he obediently climbed onto Austria's back and no sooner, than his head rested on the older nations shoulder, he was out like a light.
-APH-APH-APH-
Most of his classmates were blissfully unaware of what's happening in the world. Their parents certainly didn't tell them. They continued to live their drama free lives. Or as drama free as lives of eight years olds could be.
Even he wouldn't have known, if he didn't secretly read newspaper, while his mother went to the bakery in the morning. He hoped that America was alright. He looked so exhausted in that photo showing him among the rubble guiding the rescue efforts.
He quickly shook his head, his blond hair flying around. He probably shouldn't think about it too much. There was nothing he could actually do, and it would only worry his family and friends.
He quickly stood up from the grass he was sitting on.
"Teach, Imma gonna run to the bathroom, 'kay?" he called to his teacher and skipped towards the school building.
His teacher smiled and waved, "Sure, just be quick, your mom will come pick you up soon."
He didn't really need to go, he just needed to freshen up, to clear his mind.
He turned on the tap and splashed some on his face.
Then he heard door creaking and looked behind. There was a woman about forty coming out of one of the stalls, with questioning look on her face. She was dressed in a gray overall with a cloth covering her hair.
"Oh, are you cleaning the bathrooms now?" the blonde boy asked the woman, "I just wanted to wash up, I will be out of your way soon."
He quickly turned back to the sink, turned off the tap and reached for the paper towels to dry his hands.
But as soon as he touched the paper towel, he felt hand grab the back of his shirt and yank him back.
"Wha?" the boy yelped, but his face was quickly covered by what looked like medical breathing mask.
The air in the mask smelled funny, and he tried to hold his breath, and get the mask off, but the woman was far stronger than his eight year old self and soon he ran out of oxygen and had to gasp for air.
"I finally found you, I really found you," whispered the woman into his ear, her gripping on him tightening in a sort hug, with one hand holding his hands from moving and the other one still holding the mask over his face, "I thought I will never see you again. Why did you leave me, grandma?"
'What?' thought the boy, feeling his body slowly turning to jelly, his thoughts slowing, 'Is that…?'
But second by second he body grew weaker until fell unconscious.
After his struggles stopped, the woman gently laid him down onto the floor, and stopped the anesthetic gas flowing from the bomb and packed everything back into the backpack. After wards she gingerly picked up the blond boy, holding him close to her and sneaked out of the school building using the back gate, used mostly by staff.
Not long after that a blue car pulled into the school's parking lot. Out came a young woman in a black skirt suit. She headed towards the teacher.
"Hello, I am here to pick up my son," she called with a smile.
The teacher smiled back, "Ah, Mr. Kowalska, Feliks should be here somewhere. He was unusually quiet today."
"He was?" Feliks' mother blinked, "I hope it's nothing bad. He is not getting bullied… is he?"
The teacher shook her head, "Of course not, everybody likes him. Maybe he was just not in the mood."
The two women scanned the playing children, but they didn't see him.
"Oh wait, he went to the bathroom a while ago," the teacher frowned, "But he should have been back already."
"Oh, maybe he had a stomach ache, and that's why he was so quiet. Let me fetch him," said Mrs. Kowalska and went into the school building.
But ten minutes later she ran outside.
"I CAN'T FIND HIM," she yelled.
"Uh, what?" the teacher stepped back in surprise.
Mrs. Kowalska ran towards the playing children.
"HAVE YOU SEEN FELIKS?" she asked, looking around frantically, scaring the children, "FELIKS, ARE YOU HERE? ARE YOU PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK?! FELIKS!"