Thanks for reading and reviewing! We love hearing from you. This chapter is especially for those who were worried about Sweden. You should be worried - just not the way Finland thinks!

Chapter Summary: Sweden faces the consequences of skipping the potion that keeps him human, and Norway has finally had enough of Denmark's impish pranks.

Ch. 11: Stone and Iron

October 31, 10:00 AM

Sweden knows Finland is upset about something. Finland has been cleaning since he returned yesterday from Estonia's, and now their whole house is spotless. Even Hanatamago has little bows on her ears. Sweden raises an eyebrow at that, but says nothing. It seems, after all, that the trouble has something to do with him. He wishes they could sit down and discuss things, but Finland doesn't seem to feel like talking and he's been distracted. The changes keep coming, and the potion isn't working. Which...may be because he missed a dose. Or four.

Meanwhile, Finland has decided that their kitchen is filthy, and is on his knees cleaning the oven. To anyone else their kitchen would look showroom ready. Finland, however, is not just anyone, and he's not happy with the state of their appliances. Scrubbing the inside of the oven, he ignores the sound of approaching footsteps, hoping Sweden will just walk away because he can't deal with him right now.

Sweden stares down at him, trying to decide how best to figure out what's going on. Part of him says the right thing to do is toss Finland over his shoulder, head for a cave, and never let anyone else look at his wife again. He suppresses that urge with a shudder. "Ah, Tin...didn't y'clean that this morning?"

"Lots of germs come through this house. More than I know, apparently." He scrubs harder, his whole body moving into it.

Sweden licks his lips at the sight of Finland bent over in his little shorts. Just pick him up, take him away and...NO. He kneels beside him. "Can I help?"

"No," Finland snaps. He pulls out of the oven and gives his husband a narrow-eyed glare. "You are filthy. Get out of my kitchen, Bernie, and don't you dare come back until you're clean." Scowling, Tino turns back to the oven. "Which may be never."

Sweden jumps back, stunned, and smacks his head on the counter. He barely feels it; another bad sign. His head is getting harder, his skull thicker. "Tino!" he cries in frustration. "Why can't y'just tell me what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" Finland asks, sounding slightly crazy. "You. You're all wrong. You're a dirty, lying..." He can't even say it. He throws the scrubbing brush at Sweden and flees, running out their kitchen door.

Sweden pales. Finland must have figured out what he really is. He always knew Finland would hate him for it, would never want to be with him again. He is a dirty, lying troll. Maybe if he tells Finland that he can fix this he'll come back. He just needs more of that potion, and he swears he'll never miss a dose again. Then Finland won't have to see him scarred, ugly, and green.

He runs after Finland, heedless of the sunlight - and suddenly his hand is heavy. He jerks to a stop and looks at it in horror. His pinky has turned to stone. Sweden dashes back inside and ducks down. He needs to call someone right now, before his whole body turns to rock. He'll call Norway! He always knows how to fix these things.

XXX

For the past hour Norway has been looking for his rune carver. He's about a minute away from killing Denmark. "If you don't tell me where it is right now, I swear I will curse you so that your cock falls off!" Norway growls, the tips of his fingers sparking to show he isn't kidding.

"Uh..." Denmark backs away. In truth, he knows exactly where the thing is. Norway sent him out this morning to retrieve it from the altar, and since then he's been using it as a back-scratcher. Just before his back hits the wall, the phone rings. Saved by the bell, he darts into the next room while Norge is distracted.

With a growl, Norway picks up the phone. "What?"

"Luk. S'Bernie. Need y're help."

Norway groans and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Not you too! I thought Liza was helping you out? Her potion should be working just fine."

"Ah...well...s'not as fine as it could be."

Norway pauses. "...you stopped taking it again, didn't you?"

"No! Just...might've missed a dose."

"WHAT have I told you about that?!" Norway yells. "You can't miss a single one! Damnit, Bernie, I don't have time for this!"

"But it's awful stuff! Tastes bad and makes m'tongue heavy so I talk funny."

After a moment of benevolence (i.e., retrieving the back-scratcher), Denmark starts listening in to the conversation and laughs when he realizes it's Sweden on the phone. Stupid Sweden, always calling, looking for Norge. What a dick. Bitterly jealous, as most imps are, Denmark listens and plots his mischief.

Norway sighs, sliding back to lean against the wall. "I know, Bernie, but you're the one who has to deal with the consequences. Would you rather be a troll?"

Over the phone Sweden sighs too, deep and heavy. "No. I'll call Liza, ask for a new dose. But what can I do for now? Already changin', and I think...I think Tin found out."

"Tino...oh hell," Norway mutters. That's just perfect. A relationship crisis on top of everything else. "Look, I'm sorry, I really am, but you're going to have to figure that one out on your own. I can help you slow the changes, however, and give you some extra time."

"Thanks, Luk."

"Okay, now listen very carefully. What you need to do is-"

The line goes dead, and from the next room Denmark laughs, rune carver and snapped phone wire still in his hands. That was the perfect moment. Priceless! Now Sweden can go fuck himself and Norge doesn't have to listen to it. "Hah! Oh My God, Dude. I'll bet he's totally flipping out right now."

For a good, long minute, Norway keeps listening to the phone. He already knows it's dead. He already knows why. But some part of his brain cannot comprehend it. All in all, it just gives him time to work up to a truly impressive rage.

Denmark is still laughing, shaking with it as he heads to the fridge for water. "I'll bet you anything he's gonna come over here. I should totally set up a drop-bucket on top of the door. Water or something. NO, hot coals!"

Norway replaces the phone on the hook slowly, because otherwise he is going to slam the whole thing through the wall. This calls for extreme measures. If he can't trust the imp with a phone call, there is no way he can trust him not to interrupt the ritual.

"Oooh, no, maybe hot oil." Denmark is so looking forward to this. Maybe he should put fun-house mirrors up by the door so Sweden will think his glasses are bad and take them off. Then he'll be able to steal them and throw them in their fireplace! Though where would he get fun-house mirrors on such short notice?

Norway returns with measured, quiet steps. He'll need to surprise the imp if he wants this to be easy, so he takes the long way around to the kitchen. While Denmark is looking the other way, he grabs his wrist and locks it in an iron shackle. "I warned you, Matt. I warned you over and over again. This is for your own good, so that I don't end up throttling you."

Immediately, Denmark's face contorts into the most devilish incarnation it can express. He roars and screams, a sound so angry that it renders his voice unrecognizable. He doubles over in pain, still shrieking. "LUKAS! What the FUCK!"

Norway sighs, wrapping the other end of the chain around his wrist. "I am sorry that it hurts you. But iron is the only thing that keeps you in one place! I just...you make such a mess of things, and I can't deal with it right now! You might think it's funny now, but how funny would it be if Bernie really turned to stone?" The Dane gives him a look, and he backtracks. "Alright, bad example. I forgot who I was talking to. What if I couldn't get to the wolves in time? They could bite somebody - somebody you like."

Still hissing with demonic displeasure, the imp practically curses his way to kingdom come as Norway drags him outside. He's all imp now, clawing at the chains with long black nails; the iron draws it out of his blood. Little horns stick out through his hair, his skin turns pale blue, his eyes go red, and he pulls back black lips to snarl through sharp fangs.

Norway reaches the base of the biggest tree in his yard and points up. "Climb. Or I hoist you up with the chain."

With an inhuman howl, Denmark scrambles up to the highest branches, cursing and spitting all the way. Norway follows after him, wrapping the chain around the trunk as he goes. When he reaches the top he holds a hand out to the imp, still wary. There's always the chance Denmark will push him out of the tree; Denmark would regret that later, but the imp would find it hilarious. "Give me your hand. If you try anything, I will leave you here with the shackles on."

Slowly, Denmark reaches out, everything in him shaking as he does. He doesn't understand what's happening right now. He is only pain, anger, hate, filth. He clutches the tree with one hand, hissing as he shows the other.

With gentle fingers, Norway releases the shackle. The skin underneath is an angry red, and he kisses it, feeling a little guilty. The minute the chain falls away, Denmark shakes himself out of it, looking around, not sure where the hell he is. He's high-up. There's Norge, and... leaves. A slow, dirty smirk comes to his lips. "Did you knock me out and drag me all the way up a tree to fuck? I didn't know you cared."

It's difficult to remain angry in the face of that reddened skin and his instantly amnesiac Dane. Norway sighs. "No, Matt. You were being...impish. I can't risk you trying anything stupid, at least not while I'm summoning Odin. Maybe, if you promise to be good, I'll let you come down after the ritual."

"Come down? Dude, I can come down right-" Denmark tries to slide down the tree, but the chain brushes his shoulder. He hisses, glaring at the iron and shooting up into his branch again. Then he shakes himself out of it, blinking around. "Where am I?"

Norway shakes his head. He doesn't have time to explain this ten more times. "You're in Time Out." With that, he climbs back down the tree. At least Denmark left the rune carver in the kitchen, so he can finish preparing the ritual.

"Huh? What'd I...?" Denmark is about to slide down when Norway wraps a chain around the trunk of the tree. His foot brushes it, and he shoots back into the branches, looking down at the ground in confusion when he comes to again. This time, he decides he's going to stay in the tree.