Thanks to Dragonfire78 and Miss Akiyata for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 9: Dreams

Black seems to have a new strategy.

By all means, Black should see if it would work.

Would White be able to counter the strategy?

…

Matthew sighed in annoyance.

Alfred had come, proclaiming that he needed a hero. He ended up eating the leftovers of the pancakes, since Matthew made more than usual, seeing that he had no idea how many Matt would want, and he had made himself comfortable on Matthew's couch, in front of the TV. It would seem Alfred had completely forgotten the purpose of his visit.

And now, Matthew wanted to get rid of the loud American, and he had no idea how to go about it.

"America," he tried, "um, it was nice of you to come and all, but I would like to be alone. I don't feel so well."

"Dude," America said, "how much better can it get than my heroic presence to make you feel better? So I'm staying until you're feeling better. Um, why are you feeling bad again?"

Matthew massaged his temples, feeling a headache coming along.

"There's a good chance that a psychopathic killer is around here," Matthew tried again.

"Dude, there's no way I'm leaving. I'm gonna help you no matter what. What kind of hero would I be if I didn't?"

Matthew groaned, before he thought of an idea.

"So, you're going to help me with anything, right?"

"Sure."

"Great. Then when this headache is gone, I'm going to need your help with hockey practice. I need a victim."

If America could compare himself to a hero, then it would be the Flash, for he was out of there in a flash, breaking the records set by the Italians in retreat.

…

Matt let a small smile grace his lips. He hoped that he would be able to do that again, for it was nice to meet Matthew in the flesh.

And he wouldn't mind having pancakes again.

Kumakazi came into sight, looking annoyed. Matt arched an eyebrow at this.

"What's eating you?" he asked.

"Mister Batter was here," the bear said.

Matt's happy demeanour, no matter how small it was, disappeared and he was scowling, as usual.

Looking towards a nearby window, which was just reflective enough, he saw that Matthew was having trouble with his own version of America.

He turned back towards the bear and fixed him with a stern gaze.

"Did he want something?" Matt asked.

"He just said to let you know that he was here. Which I did. Now, I'm going hunting."

Matt nodded his head. He would cook for him, if he could. The bear had stated on several occasions that he preferred fresh kill. And if he ate Matt's food, the bear claimed that he would become fresh kill.

He suddenly remembered the animals in Matthew's world, and he suddenly felt that the pancakes were a mistake. He wasn't too used to sweet things, and the thought alone caused him to be hit by a wave of nausea.

Yes, he blamed the pancakes and maple syrup.

…

It was actually easier than he had anticipated. He could vaguely remember where he left it, so finding it was mere child's play.

Marius opened the book, searching for a specific page. Once he found it, he smirked, a cold harbinger that something bad would come.

He went over towards his mirror, where he was pleased to note that his intended target was asleep.

Easier than he had anticipated.

…

Lithuania looked at the unconscious body of Romania, feeling extremely worried. After finding him, Poland had called Toris, and the brunet was startled awake. The two of them carried Romania to his room and laid him on his bed.

Toris knew that he didn't just faint. He was forced into unconsciousness. He had seen the bruises on his neck as well.

But, who could have strangled him? There was no one else in the castle. And he highly doubted that their counterparts would have been able to do anything.

Steeling his resolve, he knew what he needed to do. He needed to stand in front of the mirror, and he needed to interrogate his counterpart.

…

Vlad couldn't believe what he saw. He hadn't seen it in centuries, but there it was, right in front of him.

The forest of death.

He hadn't seen it since the time of Vlad the Impaler. It reminded him of the atrocities he had done, but it also brought back a sense of pride. This was one of the greatest leaders at the time, and it managed to deflect the Ottoman Empire for a while. Turkey still tended to avoid him when the anniversary of this time comes up.

"Well, isn't this interesting?"

Vlad turned to come face to face with a pale reflection of himself.

"Marius," he whispered.

"Ah, so you know my name," the other said. "It saves me the trouble of introducing myself. Vlad, is it?"

Vlad took an instinctive step back.

"Where, how?" he asked.

"A little spell," Marius explained. "We're in your dreams. But don't think that I can't harm you."

"I know how these kinds of spells work," Vlad snapped.

"Good. So, this is a piece of your history? Tell me, who did this?"

"Vlad Tepes, an old boss of mine from when I was still Wallachia."

"So, this is your doing? You're not the softy I expected. This is quite morbid."

"Yeah, well, he was an expert at psychological warfare. This sent Turkey into retreat where nothing else did. If you'd look closely, you'd see several of his soldiers hanging there."

"I can see. Very impressive. However, if you have to, would you allow something like this to be done again?"

Vlad didn't answer, and the other smirked.

"Tell me, have you ever consumed blood of others?" Marius asked, stepping closer.

"Nu, and I'm not about to," Vlad said.

"Really? Well, it was somewhere in the fifteenth century where I had my first taste. It was Poland's fault, really. He likes to play games with others, break them down mentally."

"Your Poland is definitely different from mine. Seriously, just a month ago he asked me to turn him into a little girl. How Lithuania puts up with that is beyond me."

Marius let out a cry, shaking his head.

"I could've lived without that mental image," he said. "But seriously, my Poland is one sadistic bastard. He captured me, chained me up. Once a day, he would give me something to drink. It would always be the blood of my people. You know, back then, I thought I could make a difference. I was wrong. He forced me to drink their blood, day after day. After a month, he started to increase the times he would give me blood to drink. And do you know what happened after two years of it? He just stopped. He released me, pretended as though nothing happened. But you know what? After two years, I started to crave blood."

"Ah, great," Vlad grumbled. "I've tried for years to shake off that vampire stereotype, and here you come and ruin it."

Marius smirked.

"There is one thing I'm curious about," he said. "What does your blood taste like?"

Vlad's eyes widened, and he did the only thing he could think of.

He ran.

…

Lithuania took a deep breath before he turned to the object in question.

A mirror.

He managed to find a bathroom and locked the door. He didn't need Poland to interrupt, and he didn't want Romania to see what he was doing, should he wake up.

And his reflection didn't stare back.

He still saw the distorted reflection, but he was doing something with Poland. Seeing the blue eyes, Toris had to acknowledge that he didn't want to meet Poland's evil twin.

"What would happen should any of the Southern Nations find out about the game?" the other asked.

"We run away as fast and as far as possible," the other Poland said. "Seriously, Tolys, I have no intention of messing with the South. Besides, they'd consider them allies. You know how unified the Southern Nations are, and then we'd have twice the amount of problems. And frankly, I may have played with most of the North, but I don't want them coming after me because I managed to get the enemies to become stronger."

Toris frowned. What was he talking about?

"Good choice," Tolys said. "And Felic, now I know that you actually have boundaries."

"Seriously, can you imagine two South Africas?"

"Or two Brazils? That would be beyond scary, even if they are opposites."

"Anyway, do you think Romania managed to find that spell?"

"I hope so. I wonder, what would it be like to mess with someone else's dreams?"

Toris's eyes widened. Vlad was asleep, and if what he thought would happen, happened, then Vlad could be in serious trouble.

The bruises on the Romanian's neck came to mind.

And so, abandoning his resolve, he fled the bathroom, hoping that he would be able to help Romania, should it come to that.

…

Vlad could hear the footsteps of his counterpart, and it frightened him. Among the impaled bodies, the possibility of the other's cannibalistic tendencies did not look appealing. Not at all.

It was then that the unthinkable, but stereotypical and cliché and predictable thing happened.

He tripped.

And in three seconds, the other was on top of him. Vlad tried to struggle, but he paused when he felt cold against his neck.

"All I want is a taste," Marius said. "And if you keep struggling, then I might just slice into an artery. I don't want that now. Not yet."

Vlad forced his entire body to go still. It might be a dream, but it was Marius that set the rules. He was playing the other's game without knowing the rules.

Marius grabbed Vlad's right arm, and the brown-haired Romanian felt a cold wave of terror wash over his entire body.

The knife was removed, and Vlad closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to come.

He screamed. It burned more than it was meant to.

…

Poland watched helplessly as Romania started to scream and thrash in his sleep. He somehow knew that it wasn't fear, but pain that the other had in his voice.

Lithuania rushed into the room, looking as though he had seen a ghost. Once he saw Romania, his already pale features became even paler.

"Come on," Toris said, rushing to the bed. "We need to wake him. This isn't an ordinary nightmare."

"Like, how do you know?" Feliks asked.

"The other side," Toris said. "I overheard them talking about some sort of spell."

Poland decided that he would question his friend later. For now, they had a Romanian that needed to be saved from whatever terror he was experiencing behind closed eyelids.

…

Vlad no longer cared about dignity. The pain was too intense. It might have been a rule of the dream, but the pain was stronger than it should have been.

He was crying.

Marius had made a large cut on his arm, and had also added teeth. He was happily drinking Vlad's blood.

Vlad tried to struggle, but he felt extremely weak.

What made this worse was the vampiric act. Ever since that wretched book came out, he had to live with a stereotype. He had to live with the other Nations believing that half his people are vampires. He had to live with everyone thinking that he was a vampire, all because of that one fang.

And now, he was forced to act as a victim to the act of vampirism. This was what hurt the most.

Marius released the arm, and it slumped besides Vlad.

"That was a nice taste," Marius said. "Perhaps, next time, we could do it for real?"

…

Lithuania looked at the other brunet with worry when he and Poland couldn't wake the magical Nation. It was serious, Toris knew, but what could he do?

He breathed a sigh of relief when the red eyes opened, but the relief was short-lived. There was fear mixed with the crimson.

"Like, what happened?" Poland asked.

Romania didn't answer, but he pulled up the sleeve of his right arm, and Lithuania paled at the sight.

It was a fresh wound that had just begun to bleed.

…

Marius smirked. He was still in front of the mirror, so he could see exactly what effect his little visit had on Vlad. Watching the other Poland freak out about the blood, Marius withdrew his cell phone and called his Poland.

"Felic," he said. "I found the spell. And I tested it. It works. Shall we get together tomorrow?"

…

Norway sighed, disconnecting the call. He had to make sure that she would be okay with everything.

Greenland would be coming by the next day, and he asked England and Romania to bring France and Poland. The sooner they got to the bottom of it all, the better. He didn't like the fact that he could be watched any time of day. He didn't like the fact that there's the faintest trace of sadism in the other Norwegian's eyes, and also something calculating.

He hated it. It scared him.

At least it was no longer silent. The other Nordics had awoken, and they had deemed it pointless to search through Lukas's library for something that they did not know. So they went about their business as usual.

And now Lukas was stuck with the task of getting them out of his home when the others came. Convincing Greenland was tricky enough, and he didn't want to put up with the arguments that would inevitably come, should they see her.

After all, Norway didn't ask Denmark's permission, and he did not tell her that he was there.

He had his work cut out for him.

…

Poland had offered him vodka, to help calm his nerves. And it sort of helped. Romania was no longer trembling, and they had bandaged his arm. But how was it possible? Could they really cast a spell that would affect their counterparts in another world?

He still remembered the feeling of his blood being consumed. He would admit that his history often pointed to it, but he never experienced it for himself before. And he never wanted to experience it again.

The spellcaster would have to be awake for the spell to be used. And the one that the spell was used on was meant to be asleep. He didn't know the specifics, but he knew that a spell such as that would be tiring. The only defence against a spell such as that would be insomnia.

And, to be honest, he had no intention to go back to sleep.

Remembering the note he wrote before he was attacked the first time, he went towards his living room, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was still there.

He approached it, and he could clearly see the name scrawled on the sheet.

Canada.

…

They had arranged to meet the next day. Romania would adjust the spell so that it would fit their needs, and those without the magic touch would also be able to use it.

And their reflections would be too terrified to fall asleep.

…

When there was a loud pounding at his door, he immediately knew who it was. America, come to have a 'friendly' fight.

Matt reached for his hockey stick, smiling fondly when he remembered how Matthew had dealt with his America. And Matt approved of the tactic. He had never witnessed anyone run away so fast.

That was a memory he would cherish. If he simply changed the colouring, then it would be Allen running away, not Alfred. Oh, he enjoyed that mental image.

But now, he had to deal with an American who was obviously in a bloodthirsty mood.

He opened the door, immediately coming face to face with the red eyes of his southern neighbour, who smirked and held up his bat, making his intentions clear.

But Matt already knew that.

"Oh good," Allen said. "You're home."

…

Alfred was panting.

He had run quite a distance, but he couldn't quite remember why. It had something to do with…

Alfred's eyes widened, and he groaned.

He had left his car in Canada.

…

Matthew looked out his window before closing the curtains.

Alfred's car was still parked in his driveway, and he had a feeling that the other would either come and get it, or would call Matthew, asking him to bring it to America for him.

That was, if Alfred could remember where he left it.

Canada looked into a nearby mirror, seeing that Matt was also having brother problems.

It just goes to show that regardless of differences, similarities could also be found.

He lay down on the couch, and Kumajiro snuggled up against his chest. His mind drifted back to the scene that he had stumbled upon earlier that day, and he felt himself grow cold.

Who was it? Why did they do it? What did they have to gain?

Trying to think of something else, his mind drifted to an old memory.

It was when France found him for the first time. Matthew had been shy, hiding behind a bush, and France thought at first that it might be a rabbit, even going so far as to say 'I will not harm you, petit lapin.' Matthew could still remember the shock that the other reflected in his eyes when he saw that it was not a rabbit, but a little boy. He could also remember the warm smile the other gave him.

France had asked where his parents were, and Matthew responded that he had none. After a few more questions, France realised that the little boy was a new Nation. He had offered for the young one to go with him, and he would be his papa.

But it didn't work out as well as there had been promised.

Matthew sighed, before he eventually fell asleep on his couch.

So Marius tortured Vlad. The psychological torture hurt him more than the physical torture did. In the dreams their senses are heightened so that, should the 2Ps decide to attack them physically, it would hurt them more. There will be another chapter (that I immensely enjoyed writing) that has more dream torture.

And in case you're wondering, I don't plan ahead. I have a few things in mind, but how I get to that point is still to be determined, so I'm actually open to suggestions. It makes things interesting.

And, yes, there will be other OC Nations, either as part of the plot or comic relief, if only to break free from the tension. You'll be meeting Greenland in the next chapter, and her 2P will come in not long after. By the way, I'd like to hear which countries you'd like to meet, whether they're 1P or 2P. Helps me know what you guys want.