Hi, everyone! You guys seem to really like this story (seriously?! Thanks!) so I have have brought an update for you. Enjoy!
Allons-y!
Four
Mysterious Ways
Neither England nor Scotland mention the episode the night before.
As the two of them sit down to eat the breakfast the hotel room service has provided, Scotland looks as if he's itching to ask about the nightmare England woke up screaming from. It really has been a while since something like that happened. A long time.
'It's strange,' England says suddenly.
'What is?' Scotland asks.
'No one else seems to wonder about it. The snow.'
Scotland frowns. 'What snow?'
'It was snowing when I left,' England elaborates. 'On the fifth of November, 2010.'
'Freak weather,' Scotland mutters, remembering the news.
'But it was snowing when I came back, too. On the fifth of November, 2015.'
Scotland's eyes widen. England's right, after all. That is strange. Not just the fact that it never snows in November, but the fact that it snowed on the same night on two separate occasions, with exactly five years in between. The night England disappeared and the night he came back.
'Did this honestly not occur to you?' England asks.
'Sure, it was on the news and everything. People were marvelling at how it could happen exactly five years apart. But I was too overwhelmed on both occasions, funnily enough. The first time I thought yeh'd vanished forever. The second time I was in shock over the fact that yeh'd come back.'
'But also,' England continues. 'Fifth of November.'
'Yeah...?'
'It could have been any night. Any night of the year. And it was Bonfire Night. A national celebration. Doesn't that strike you as odd?'
He can see that Scotland's mind is at work here. It's obvious now. There's no way that any of this is down to coincidence. Something peculiar is at work.
'You don't think it's...' England pauses for a second, thinking through what he's going to say. 'You don't think it's... magic?'
Scotland scoffs. 'Yeah. Right.'
'How else would you explain it? Snow, at the beginning of November, happening twice on the same night, five years in between. And the fact that I went missing?'
'Yeh think yer disappearance has something to do with magic?' Scotland sounds extremely sceptical.
'Why not?' England says defensively.
'Because,' Scotland replies, rolling his eyes. 'It's not possible.'
England looks furious. 'Oh. Are you pretending magic doesn't exist now, Scotland? Sod it, you have magic! How can you forget that?'
'I'm not saying I've forgotten or I don't believe,' Scotland mutters. 'Far from it. I'm saying, there ain't enough magic in this world to pull something like that off. There are barely any nations who actually have magic-'
'Norway,' England says. 'Romania.'
'And do yeh think they had something to do with this?'
'No. But you're ruling this out too quickly. You have magic. So do Wales and Ireland. And, of course, me. Magic hasn't died out.'
'And none of us had anything to do with what happened to yeh,' Scotland says. 'None of us have enough power, anyway. I don't know how strong Norway and Romania are, but Ireland and Wales have barely got any left, and I can't do much more than them. Yeh were always the best at magic. Yeh were always the strongest.'
'You think I did whatever it was to myself?' England asks.
'No. I just don't think this is to do with magic. Like I said, there ain't enough magic in this world.'
And what if it wasn't from this world? England thinks to himself, then frowns internally. Why the hell would he think that? What does that even mean?
There's definitely something watching him.
Scotland senses nothing. He's too busy getting all flustered about collecting all his documents together for the G8. And about getting there on time. And about England in general.
'Yeh need to do what I tell yeh,' he says. 'I'll sort this all out.'
England only packs one thing for the G8. He slides his dagger into the pocket of his coat and hopes Scotland or anyone else won't notice. Something's watching him. Something is following him. England is ready to run at any given notice. He just needs one reason to do it and he will escape. But he can't. He's beginning to acknowledge the emotional consequences of his actions.
Despite his previous beliefs, his brothers obviously do care about him. Even if it's just a little bit. Otherwise, they wouldn't be trying to help him. And although they don't verbally reveal much, they imply pretty heavily that they were upset when England disappeared.
Who knows how they would react if he would to run away and ultimately disappear again?
They finally arrive at the building where the G8 meeting is taking place. England is nervous. Not because of his impending return into the other nations' lives. More to do with whatever's following him. He knows he's not just being paranoid. There's definitely something here. Something bad. Something just out of sight.
'Yeh should wait in here until I've spoken to the other nations about yeh,' Scotland suggests as he and England arrive on the second floor and Scotland motions over to what appears to be a library. 'Yeh could probably amuse yerself in there until I've had a chance to explain everything. They obviously won't believe a word I say but at least I'll have time to focus the conversation on yeh.'
England doesn't argue. He doesn't mind being alone in the library, and at least now he might be able to figure out exactly what it is that's following him around.
They're about half an hour earlier than they need to be and none of the other nations have shown up yet. Not even the host, America, although that's probably to be expected- he's usually the last one to show up. That probably hasn't changed in the five years England has been away...
'I could give you hell and it won't make a difference, will it?'
England frowns and places one hand over his scarred chest and the other over the pocket he's stored his knife in. The words have been echoing inside his head since the first bad dream, back when he first realised he'd been tortured at some point. He sighs and walks around the library for a while, and is dismayed to find that most of the room's contents are just files on previous meetings in this building and there aren't actually that many books.
There is, however, a mirror. It's not as fancy as the golden framed one on the fourth floor of the hotel, but this one is bigger, with a dark wooden frame. England tenses up when he sees his reflection glaring back warily. He steps closer, looking directly into his own eyes. Green, like they're meant to be. The frown's there too. Good.
Maybe I'm just going crazy. Crazier than I already was. I mean, they've always called me insane. Maybe they're right. Perhaps I truly am.
It would explain why he's hearing voices inside his head and why he's hallucinating. But something terrible did happen to him. The scars, the knife, the dreams... they're all proof.
'Miss us?' says his reflection casually.
England stares at the warped image of himself. Those eyes of his, now electric blue again, seem to sparkle.
'No,' he says, figuring that this is probably the best answer to give.
The reflection giggles. 'Oh well.'
In an instant, the glass of the mirror is shrouded in darkness. It's like looking into a rectangle of a pitch black void. England takes a step back in shock, no longer able to see a reflection of himself or anything else in the room. Black smoke begins to billow from the edges of the mirror, seeping out of the glass and into the air. England immediately reaches into his pocket for his knife but it's already too late. A cloud of black smoke erupts from the mirror and crashes into England. It's definitely as solid substance, despite appearances.
England topples over and crashes to the ground, quickly slashing with his knife in an effort to protect himself. The smoke swirls above his head, emitting a screeching noise that sounds almost like a demonic cackle. From the waves of darkness, the creature, whatever the hell it is, seems to look back with two ruby orbs, practically glowing in contrast to the black smoke. With one last hissing chuckle, the creature throws itself forwards with furious pace, heading towards the door to the library and leaving England behind, still lying on the ground with his knife out.
A loud crashing noise tells England that the creature has smashed its way through the doors and has been released from the room. He quickly pushes himself to his feet and then doubles over in pain. He feels winded- there is a massive bruise forming all over his chest from where that creature slammed into him. Whatever it is, its powerful. As he looks down, he can see the suit and the shirt he's wearing have slices as if tiny blades have been raked across them. There are even spots of blood here and there. Somehow the smoke has a sharp edge to it, making the creature all the more dangerous.
The door has been completely blasted off its hinges and the creature is nowhere to be seen. But England's certain of one thing- just like all the other instinctive things he's been certain of since he came back.
It's heading for the other countries.
Scotland wasn't joking when he told England that he understood why the latter always hated world meetings so much.
He's only being doing this for five years but he's already so sick of the conferences, the business trips and all the other duties he had to start fulfilling when his younger brother went missing. It's not so much because of how tiring everything is (that's a whole different matter). It's more to do with how frustrating it is to have to engage in debates with a load of people who never listen.
Only seven people to deal with today, though. Seven people and a paranoid, delusional, bordering on dangerous younger brother.
Fun.
He is correct in thinking that he and England were the first to arrive here. Germany and Italy show up a mere ten minutes afterwards and the rest file in over the next few minutes. Even America shows up relatively on time. They all greet each other with varying levels of enthusiasm, ranging from Italy's bubbly nature to Canada's attempts to get anyone to even notice him.
'At least I might not have to bother with these bloody meetings anymore,' Scotland mutters.
'You going somewhere, dude?' America asks, taking as seat next to the redhead. The blonde is comfortably munching away on a burger and seems oblivious (surprise, surprise) to the reluctance to be here that most of the nations are rather prominently displaying.
'I've, er, got good news. Sort of...' Scotland replies. Yeah, England's return definitely counts as good news. On the other hand, they still have no suitable explanation for what even happened. And of course, the scars and the paranoia. Should Scotland mention those parts to the other nations?
He waits a short while until Germany has managed to get everyone to shut up.
'If we could all settle down, that would be appreciated.' Germany already looks irritated. It's no wonder by this point. 'Is there anything anyone wishes to say before we begin?'
'Yeah, I got something,' Scotland says, getting to his feet. Everyone stares at him in confusion. Normally, Scotland stays sulking in his chair throughout these affairs and only ever offers narcissistic comments. Like an even more pessimistic, slightly less active version of England.
'Will it take long?' Germany asks.
'Probably, yeah. It's, uh... well, it's a bit unexpected.'
Hardly any of them are paying attention. America is still munching on his burger and is chatting away to Japan. Italy is happily telling a story to France and Russia just smiles innocently.
Scotland clears his throat. 'Listen, yeh idiots, I didn't fly all the way over here with a living, walking, improbable hazard to discuss the bloody weather.'
'Still raining where you live, I would imagine,' France says with a chuckle.
Scotland rolls his eyes. He does this even more than usual during meetings with other nations. 'It's important and yeh all better start listening because I ain't repeating myself. I thought it would be better if I warned yeh all first.'
'Warn us about what?' Canada says in a whisper. Nobody hears him.
Scotland scratches the back of his head. Most of the others have at least acknowledged that he is talking now, which is something. 'So, a situation arose just over a week ago that we didn't see comin'. And, well, it's pretty surprising.'
They're listening now. All of them. Good.
'We're not sure how or why it even happened in the first place, but-'
A loud crash resonates from somewhere downstairs, on the second floor by the sound of it.
'Bloody hell,' Scotland curses. What the hell is England doing down there? He considers venturing downstairs to see what his little brother has gotten up to but the crash is accompanied by a shrieking noise which seems to grow louder and louder as the source gets closer to the meeting room.
'What the hell is that?' Germany exclaims, getting to his feet in shock.
America springs to his feet too, staring wide-eyed at the door. 'Dude, it sounds like a frickin' ghost!'
The piercing noise reaches the door and a new explosion rips through the air as the nations quickly dive under the table to escape the debris shooting in every direction. Peering out from behind a chair, Scotland's eyes widen as he catches sight of a black smoky mass with glowing red slits for eyes hovering in the massive whole in the wall where the door once stood.
Italy screams and many of the others cry out in shock too. 'What is that thing?' France yells.
Japan's eyes are wide in horror. 'I- I do not know-'
The creature gives a sort of hissing cackle and advances into the room.
The nations crawl out from their hiding spots and back away against the far wall, too shocked to do anything else. The creature's movements radiate a menacing intention as it progresses into the room, still hissing in anticipation. It still resembles nothing more than a black cloud, yet it is obviously powerful- after all, it completely blew the door apart.
As much as Scotland doesn't want to admit it, this is definitely some sort of dark magic.
And England...?
The only person with magic powerful enough to conjure something like this is England. Did he do this? If so, why? And if that isn't the case (which Scotland sincerely hopes so), then who did conjure it? And that explosion they heard before, the one downstairs, came from where England is right now. Which means this creature must have confronted him. This creature might have done something to him.
'What a strange creature,' Russia says calmly, but even he isn't smiling.
'Guys! Someone call 911!' America squeaks in a high pitched voice.
'Whatever the hell this thing is, the humans won't be able to help,' Scotland mutters, eyeing the creature's every move. The entity is approaching slowly, almost as if it's analysing the nations before whatever it has planned next.
'Germany- Germany, what do we do?' Italy squeals fearfully.
'We- we-' Germany is at a loss for words.
'Is it planning an attack of some kind?' Japan asks.
'It would appear so,' Russia says.
'We- we outnumber it, though,' France says in a shaky voice. 'That's something...'
'Dude, it just blew a frickin' whole in the wall!'
'We still don't even know what it is,' Canada whispers, too anxious about the situation to even care about whether anyone heard him.
'We just need to remain calm and formulate a strategy to... remove it,' Germany says.
Scotland bites his lip. He has magic, of course. More than Ireland and Wales. Nowhere near as much as England. There's no way he would be able to expel this creature with his own abilities. If England were to help him, perhaps...
But how to get to his brother? There's a large, menacing, unknown entity blocking his only route.
'Germany-san is right,' Japan says. 'There is no use in us panicking.'
The creature reaches the centre of the room, hovering over the table. It surveys the nations, all pressed against the wall opposite it, and seems to contemplate its next move.
'It's gonna attack us,' Scotland warns the others. 'We're gonna have to try and run or something.'
'Heroes don't-'
'Really not a good time to be spouting yer hero shite, America,' Scotland says. 'This thing is obviously dangerous. 'If yeh go up against this thing, yeh're probably not gonna be standin' by the end.'
America is trembling but seems to cling onto what he was trying to say. 'But we gotta do something about it...'
The creature's form shifts slightly and its ruby orbs seem to fix on America. The nation gulps and takes a step to the side, heading towards the corner of the room and away from the other nations. The creature follows him slowly.
'Don't,' Scotland calls out. 'Don't let it single you off.'
'It's following me,' America panics.
'America!' Canada cries out in as loud a voice as he can muster.
The entity lunges forwards and America quickly dives out the way. With an almighty crash, the creature breaks through the wall and fills the room with dust and even more debris. Instead of falling down to the ground below, the creature dives back into the room and this time targets the rest of the nations, who stand huddled in a group, staring is shock. They quickly scatter in panic and the entity gives chase, marking different targets as new victims every few seconds.
Each nation tries heading for the door but the creature gets there first. The countries stand, frozen in shock and fear as the entity lets out another hissing laugh before it suddenly tenses and quietens. Then it lets out a piercing shriek and dissolves into the air, the darkness of its mass lightening into nothing and revealing a figure standing behind it, wielding a knife and in a fighting stance, the blade pointing into the spot where the creature once existed.
Scotland lets himself breathe a sigh of relief for two reasons. One, England's alright (though his shirt's torn and there appears to be spots of blood on his clothing) and two, the creature is dead. On the other hand, it looks like England managed to sneak his knife with him after all.
Also, this really isn't how Scotland was planning to reintroduce England to the other nations. These last few minutes have been shocking enough without them all embracing the fact that someone has seemingly returned from the dead (well, America was sort of right after all about a ghost being here)...
There aren't any shocked screams or anything. The other nations simply stare with wide eyes at the spot where an other worldly creature just dissipated, the same spot that is now being occupied by a long lost country.
But England isn't looking back at them. He holds out his knife and glares at Scotland. 'Told you I'd need this.'
England really knows how to make an entrance.
So, I haven't finished writing the next chapter, but I should be done soon. I know this doesn't really count as a reunion chapter because Iggy only shows up right at the very end and the other countries are in shock. So, the talking will commence in the next chapter! XD
Thanks for reading, and remember to review!
