(A/N) Well... an entire year and one month later, and I have finally gotten chapter 14 finished. Or should I say, the chapter with an uncomfortable amount of bold italics... you'll see once you start reading.

I have a lot to say in regards to my absence from this story, so I will save it for the author's note at the end of this chapter. Enjoy and I hope the wait was worth it. It's 3,259 words, not including the author's note.

No flames please~! If you feel that some improvements could be made, don't be afraid to say so; tell what I did good and like I just said, improvements are good!

DISCLAIMER - I do not own Hetalia, or its characters; it belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.


Chapter 14: Throwing a Wrench in the Works

Oliver couldn't believe who was in front of his eyes, it was the witch herself, Erzsébet Héderváry. She was smiling at him, and it wasn't a warm, comforting smile, but a forced one filled with bitterness. The pastel haired 2P had warning bells going off in his head, that wasn't just fueled by the smile, but the fact that she had come to see him in person, which was never a good sign. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage and his breathing almost come to a complete halt.

Regardless of his feelings, he had to keep it together. Putting on as sweet of a smile as he could manage, he greeted her...again.

"Salutations, Miss Héderváry..."

"Oliver is everything alright?" She asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"Of course, why would it not be, ma'am?" Oliver was sweating bullets, as he gripped the door frame and tried to keep his breathing focused. Despite his efforts, the Brit noticed her growing suspicions.

"You just seem a little jumpy, that's all," Miss Héderváry got closer to Oliver, that much so he could feel her breath on his face. "You wouldn't mind if I came in for some tea would you?"

"Not all, please come in," stepping aside, he allowed his superior to enter. He watched her analyse her surroundings in scrutiny. "Welcome to my humble abode! I apologise for it not being in the best state, but I was not expecting visitors at this hour."

"It's fine," she sat down on one of the chairs around the table, resting her arms on the surface. "This visit is only going to be brief."

"Oh, really?" Oliver immediately covered his mouth; he didn't expect that to come out, especially not in the relieved tone he had said it in.

She raised an eyebrow again.

"Ollie, are you nervous about something?" Miss Héderváry asked in a sing song voice, tapping her fingers on the table.

"Tea!" He exclaimed, running to the kettle. "I almost forgot the tea! My apologies, ma'am!"

"Right," she said, deadpan.

Oliver hastily grabbed two teacups and saucers from the cupboard, placed a couple of teabags in a teapot, and poured some hot water in to it. Picking up a tray from the draining board, he put the items on with some pink iced cupcakes he baked earlier, and made his way to the table.

"Tea is served, miss," the Brit announced as he sat opposite Miss Héderváry with the tray. "Not my best, but this was a last minute meeting."

"I understand," she replied, getting herself a cup and saucer, and pouring some tea. "These past 6 months have been quite hectic for me, you know."

'I wonder why?' he thought bitterly, knowing fully well why she had been busy.

"Well," he started with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Prying is not really something I like to do, but maybe you want to vent a little..."

Closing her eyes, she took a sip from her cup.

"Considering your eventual involvement in my plans, I guess it would be for the better that we had a talk about this..."

Oliver's fear had been replaced by confusion. His involvement? He thought the plan revolved around Allen, Luciano, and their respective 1Ps, not him.

"My involvement?" He asked.

"Yes," she replied, drinking the last of her drink and setting it on the table. "It's best that I show you."

"Show me what?" He started to back up in his chair.

"Don't worry, it's not that bad," Miss Héderváry chuckled darkly, standing from her seat. "Elise!"

"Yes, Master," the girl addressed opened the door slightly, wearing her usual blank expression. It sent chills down the Brit's spine.

"I'd like for you to show Oliver to our car," Héderváry didn't take her eyes off him as she gave her order.

With a nod, Elise approached Oliver. The man turned to run before having his hand forcefully grabbed by the younger girl.

"Miss Zwingli, unhand me!" Oliver started to struggle in her grip, before she smacked him across the face, shocking him to the core. "Elise...? Why...?"

"Resistance is futile, Mr. Oliver Kirkland," she stated, tugging on his arm and walking towards the front door. "Am I going ahead, Master?"

"Yes," Miss Héderváry replied between a mouth full of iced cupcake. "It would be a crime to let these go to waste."

Elise sighed and left the room, dragging Oliver with her.


The rain had picked up significantly since Thurston and his men had left the prison building, making his mood sour further. He imagined that capturing one of the ingredients for their leader's plans would fill him with a sense of accomplishment.

It didn't.

In fact, the small fight with that boy combined with the escape of another one of their targets, made his blood boil. That American 1P was a stubborn young man who couldn't do what was asked of him.

"We have been ordered to not allow you and Mr. Vargas to escape here," he had politely informed the kid. "You are now going to surrender yourself, hand Mr. Vargas over to us, and you are both to be handed to our Master."

The Finnish 2P didn't have to wait for a response to realise that the blonde 1P was not going to comply. His body language and eyes said it all for him. He defensively stood in front of the cowardly version of Luciano, as his eyes burned with determination to carry out a promise he had clearly made.

"Like hell we are!" He yelled, more in frustration than anger. "We're going home and that's that."

Oh, how admittedly cute that was! They actually believed that they had a chance.

It reminded him of that stupid Allen...

The survival of the fittest was something that Thurston once believed very strongly; the weak die, the strong survive. Voss Zwingli was far from being strong, a coward who went crying to his little sister if he got a little scratch, or if someone was slightly 'mean' to him.

He was a pathetic waste of space, who had to go.

Beating him into a corner, the Finnish male smirked as the bruised Swiss 2P cried and begged for his life. He was truly useless and served no purpose.

"Goodbye," Thurston sang, as Voss screamed louder.

Before he could pull the trigger, he was rudely interrupted.

"Thurston, put the gun down!" It was Allen, who had come up from behind him empty handed. What an idiot... "Now!" He had yelled louder.

"Shut up, Allen!" Thurston countered, keeping his aim on the whimpering Voss.

"This is dumb!"

"No, it isn't," the Finnish man said matter-of-factly. "We are 2Ps, this is what we do, we fight each other."

"Not if the other doesn't want to!" Allen shouted, punching the wall behind him with a crack. "Just leave him alone and quit being a dick!"

"Or what?"

Promptly after saying that, his hat suddenly flew off his head and upon looking to his right, he saw that it was pinned to the wall by a knife.

"I won't miss next time," he heard a familiar voice say in warning. Looking to the source, he saw Luciano, a smug smirk on his face.

Thurston was lost for words, as the Italian slowly approached him and took his knife off the wall. The events of what had just transpired played through his head; the fiery determination in Allen's eyes, the defensive stance...

Way too similar to Alfred...

Perhaps, he was more similar to his 2P than he even realised...

"Drive faster, we don't have a lot of time!" Thurston heard one of his henchmen yell, causing him to roll his eyes.

'Here we go...'

"It's easier said than done!" The second henchman argued back.

"It's simple, just drive faster!"

"I can't!"

"Yes, you can!"

"Will you both shut up!" Thurston yelled from the backseat, causing his men to get startled.

The vehicle swerved and slided, eventually colliding with a tree. Thurston got out of the van to survey the damage and he could swear he felt his blood pressure skyrocket. The front of the vehicle was completely damaged and unusable, smoke was even coming from the front.

Turning to his men, the Finnish man's fuse exploded...


Luciano couldn't stop thinking about everything. A lot was resting on him and he couldn't lie; he felt a bit of pressure. The fate of Jones was in his hands, the fate of his stupid 1P was in his hands, and he hated it. He knew there was a reason why he just gave in to his sadistic side more often than not.

There was a side of him that felt giddy about this whole ordeal, though. He was doing something positive and the stupid 1Ps looked up to him, not out of fear, but because they trusted him. He oddly preferred that, as frustrating as guiding those idiots around were...

He's become soft...

Time will do that...

He used to believe that changing with time wasn't possible and here he was admitting that he thought wrong. It was strange. He felt odd.

Watching the rain droplets get swept by the wipers, his thoughts went elsewhere. Was it really a good idea to leave Feliciano alone? He had a gun, so he had a form of defense, but would he actually use it?

"You are idiots! How are we going to get him there, now?!"

He heard shouting in the distance and could make out smoke rising from where the noise seemed to be coming from.

I think I just found Jones' captors...

Luciano sped up and went round in a circle, so he could get to the front of where the chaos seemed to be unfolding. As his car pulled up, the man that was yelling, Thurston, stopped to gawk as the path was obstructed.

The Italian parked and stared out of the window to observe what was going on.

Thurston was stood straight faced, as he stared at the car. Next to him, were two other men that he didn't recognise, shaking. There was no sign of Jones, but it was obvious to him that he was in the back of the crashed van.

Sighing, he prepared to take action.

Time to save his sorry ass...

Luciano opened the car door, stepping out with a piercing glare. "Hello, Thurston, long time, no see."

"Luciano," he spat, tightening his grip on his gun. "What do you want?"

"I think you know very well what I want," he said, kicking a muddy pebble with his boot.

"Yes, you want the American 1P, correct?"

"You could say that," Luciano stood five feet away from the man, folding his arms. "Who informed you?"

"The boss lady herself," Thurston replied with a smug smile. "Apparently, you were caught entering the prison building with him," he nodded towards his van, before looking back at the Italian. "Loki also caught you and your 1P leaving in a car, and I thought you would have wanted to avoid being seen."

"I did, but things happen," the Italian's mouth was a line, as he thought back to waiting around for the stupid 1Ps. He wouldn't have been found if his own 1P wasn't tagging along with him, but he wasn't going to let that bitch succeed. Not on his watch.

"What kind of nonsense is that?" Thurston asked in a tone of mockery, taking him out of his thoughts. "Has that 1P deteriorated your brain with his presence?"

"I don't know," Luciano shrugged, placing his hands on his hips. "Has blindly following orders, no matter how morally wrong they are, damaged your empathy?"

"I cannot believe that you of all people are saying that, considering your past," the Finnish male smirked, folding his own arms.

"People change," the Italian spat, placing a hand on his knife holster and stroking the handle. "Unlike certain 2Ps, I've reflected on my past and have tried to improve from that," he looked down at the ground, watching the rain rapidly fall onto it. "It's slow progress, but it's something..."

At that statement, Thurston fell into a fit of laughter, shocking his henchmen and even Luciano himself.

"Are you sure you are who you look like?" He asked between giggles. "I am seeing Luciano Vargas stood in front of me, but the stuff he is coming out with..." The intensity of his laughs increased. "It is like I am talking to fucking Oliver, or that stupid American 1P!"

"Fuck off..." Luciano said between gritted teeth, grip on the knife handle intensifying.

"Luciano Vargas, once the feared leader of the Axis Powers and one of the most tactfully efficient 2Ps, has been reduced to this..." He stopped laughing to gesture to the Italian.

"I'm the same guy, jackass!"

"Really?" Thurston's cocky smirk returned, as he got closer to the Italian. "Then I suggest turning your pretty face around and leaving us to our business."

Luciano's glare increased. "I don't take orders from those lower than me," he snarled.

"So, you are going to have to fight me," Thurston cocked his rifle, with a small glare of his own.

"Yeah," the red-head scoffed, unsheathing his knife. "You'll just drop like a fly."

The Finnish man shook his head in disapproval, as he looked at his opponent with disappointment. "Trying to play hero is costing you big time, Luciano..."

"Me? Playing hero? Ha!"

"So, what are you doing then?" He asked. "Saving a worthless 1P."

"No, I'm not," Luciano sighed, looking at his own reflection in his blade. "I'm merely throwing a wrench in the works," he shook his head, expression becoming grave. "She can't succeed, Thurston."

"Just because her success does not have a good outcome for you, or your boyfriend for that matter," Thurston got even closer, as his voice became hushed. "You will both perish, leaving behind a pair of underlings who will listen."

"I'm anything but an underling," Luciano growled, his magenta eyes glowing unknown to him. "You on the other hand..." he grabbed the man by the collar, watching the colour drain from his face. "You're nothing but a dog following orders, a mindless puppet that can be easily disposed of."

"She will not get rid me," Thurston muttered.

"Okay, I'll propose a fun little experiment," the Italian whispered in his ear, amused by the denial of his opponent. "You let Jones go and we'll observe how long it takes before she starts plotting to get rid of you."

"Shut up!"

He swung a fist at Luciano, who effortlessly dodged by performing a kart wheel followed by a roundhouse kick. Rolling out of the way, Thurston aimed his gun at him, face red with rage.

"Bastard!" He yelled.

"Are you that self-conscious about your own combat skills, that you have to resort to fighting dirty?" Luciano taunted, unsheathing his knife and pointing it at his opponent.

"I am not fighting dirty, I am out to kill," Thurston growled.

"Oh, really."

"Yes, Master said that she needed your blood, not you necessarily."

"True," the red-head nodded, twirling his knife between his fingers. "However, I believe that she would want the satisfaction of bleeding me dry, wouldn't you say?"

At that, Thurston lowered his weapon with a scowl.

"Thought so," the Italian said, smug. "Let's have a fair fight, shall we?"


"Shut up!"

What did I say?

Everything was so fuzzy. His senses, his memories. Something terrible must have happened for him to be in this position.

"Let's paint the walls red, using your blood as the paint, shall we?"

"What?! That's messed up!"

"..."

Finland - No... Thurston looked down at him with a wide smirk, pointing his gun at him.

"I didn't think taking you down would be this simple, how disappointing," he mocked, stirring some anger within.

Not long after, he saw himself disarm the Finnish 2P with ease, before moving on to knocking out his henchmen with the blunt end of a knife. They shot at him, but he didn't let that deter him, even going as far as to ignore a sharp pain in his shoulder...

That served to be his undoing...

Man... I fucked up...

"Bastard!"

Yeah... you can say that again...

"Are you that self-conscious about your own combat skills, that you have to resort to fighting dirty?"

America's eyes snapped open.

Italy!

"Italy, run!"

"America, what about you?!"

"I can handle them, get yourself to safety," the blonde told him, giving the Italian a reassuring smile. "There should be someone waiting for you outside, now go. I'll keep them busy."

'And I did such a good job...' He thought bitterly, ignoring the pain in his shoulder.

"I believe that she would want the satisfaction of bleeding me dry, wouldn't you say?"

A pause.

"Thought so... Let's have a fair fight, shall we?"

Either Italy had become a bad ass, or that was Luciano. He... came to save him? America didn't know whether to be touched, or worried... if Luciano was here... then where was Italy?

"You have to do better than that if you want me dead!"

Shit!

An opportunity to be useful, a chance at redemption. With that in mind, he began to use his immense strength to begin kicking at the back doors. He was in pain, but he had to help in some capacity.

Taking no time at all, he forced the door open just in time to witness Luciano's blade make contact with Thurston's eyes. The blade slashed across, making a bloody mess of both eyes. The Finnish man howled in pain, collapsing to his knees. His concussed henchmen came to help him, but he kept swatting them away as sobs escaped him.

Luciano stood in shock, breath caught in his throat as his looked down at the blood dripping off his blade. He didn't mean to go that far...

"Luciano!"

Looking up, he saw that the back of the van had been kicked open, revealing the American, smiling despite being tied up.

Shaking his head, he ran up to him, turning him over to begin cutting him out of his restraints.

"I'm so glad to see you, buddy!"

"Buddy? Just call me by my actual name..." The Italian sighed, a small smile creeping onto his face. It dropped before he turned the blonde over.

"So what's the plan?"

"My car is over there," Luciano pointed ahead. "Go, now!"

"But what about you?"

"I'll be right behind you," he replied. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you drive my car."

With a nod, America sprinted towards the car, Luciano not being too far behind.

Thurston stopped his screaming in time to hear footsteps running past him, the opening and closing of car doors, the humming of an engine, and finally, wheels moving.

He failed...

He wasn't of use anymore either...

Was Luciano right? Was he going to be disposed of now...?


Finding Allen Jones was the order she was given, but she couldn't think of where to start. Elise didn't know him well enough to determine where he was, or what he would be doing.

Sighing, she paused.

"Elise, please!" Oliver cried, as her grip on his arm tightened. "You are not a bad person, I can feel it!"

"Quiet," was her cold reply.

They were stood in front of the Master's car in the pouring rain, watching as the woman herself approached. No words were exchanged, as the doors where unlocked and Oliver was handcuffed and thrown in the backseat.

Miss Héderváry turned to Elise with a smirk. "With this out of the way, you can now track Allen down.

The girl nodded.

"Tell him to find Luciano and that we have Oliver. If he does not comply, we torture him."

"You were going to do that anyway..."

"I know, but it instills some fear into Allen, right?"

Allen...

He saved her brother, or at least tried to; nobody could stand next to him all the time. That was how She found him.

"You must swear loyalty to me, Elise, otherwise your brother will bite the bullet."

Shaking her head, she shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind and continued to try to fulfill her objective.

Hearing footsteps, she turned to see Matt Williams approaching her.

"Hey, you're Miss Héderváry's bitch, right?"

Elise flinched at that, scowling at the man.

"Fine, 'right hand,' 'body guard,' whatever you want to call yourself," he said, emphasising each nickname with quotations. "What you up to?"

"My current objective is to find Mr. Allen Jones," Elise told him, folding her arms. "Do you know where he is? I have a message."

"No, but I can help."

"Lovely."


Chapter 14 is finally marked off! I hope the constant font change didn't bother you and that the slightly longer chapter was worth the much longer wait.

It's funny, I have taken that long to update that between last update and this update, we're in a global pandemic and the seventh season of Hetalia has finally been announced. My thoughts on the latter... it ties into why this update took so long.

If you're interested, you can keep reading. If not, just know that improvements are appreciated and the story isn't discontinued. I will also say thank to those who read, or even just clicked on the story.

My interest in Hetalia has admittedly dwindled, as a result the story was on an unannounced hiatus. I think you can imagine how difficult it is to try and write for something you're now not too passionate about. The loss of interest stemmed from the feeling that nothing new was coming out, more specifically, in terms of the anime adaptation as I don't follow the web comic (I have read a few strips in the past and they've gotten a chuckle out of me).

I haven't read Hetalia fanfiction in 2-3 years now and haven't watched any fan stuff in ages either. I still listen to Hetaloid unironically, because the covers I have saved *chief's kiss* But anyway, I still wrote for it despite my loss of interest, because it was fun for me. I literally imagine how scenes play out and it's ridiculously fun for me. That gradual decline in seeing anything new related to Hetalia eventually turned into distance.

I physically couldn't write anything anymore. I'd go to begin writing a new chapter, but just didn't have the passion anymore. Combine that with me having more fun writing my Resident Evil crossover story 'We're in Hell,' and getting into The Sims 2 again, and that's how 'Paint it, Red' and Hetalia as a whole sat in the back of my mind. For a whole year. Before recently, I only had the first scene with Oliver up and ready to go, and the first paragraph with Thurston. I wrote them in November 2020...

Honestly, if I didn't read the plans I had for this chapter and the first scene I had wrote, then this chapter wouldn't be to say, my passion for the series hasn't come back in full swing, even with season seven's announcement. I'm happy, but not jumping out of my seat squealing like I would have done a couple of years ago. I'm hoping that when season seven drops... I'll be back 100%.

I watch the series both subbed and dubbed, but I prefer the dub as the jokes hit better for me. Which brings me to this...

I'm nervous about the dub... Funimation haven't been in my good books lately... if Todd Haberkorn doesn't return as Italy, I will throw hands.

Anyway, this author's note has gone on long enough. I will say again that the story isn't discontinued! The updates will just be extremely irregular until my passion returns.

Improvements are appreciated, please tell me what I did right, wrong and how I can improve. If you would like, you could also favourite and follow this fic, as well as suggest ideas for future chapters. R&R and thanks for reading!