Disclaimer: We don't own Hetalia!
A/N: Hey, everyone!
Alright, I'll let you continue on with your little project. But I don't want it interfering with the upcoming story. You mean our one year anniversary? No, I mean the story about you being thrown off a cliff. When are we . . . hey! Now she gets it. Whatever, I have to get back to planning the anniversary.
5 days!
Aw, look, the micronations. :) I hate those little buggers. I was stupid enough to call all of them, I don't know why.
You know, I used to hate Author's Notes. I would despise it when someone wrote one and swore to myself Castor and I wouldn't write them in our stories . . . well, that plan failed!
Enjoy! Please review! (Hej to our Danish reader and Nǐ hǎo to the Chinese reader who caught up. :))
What are you three doing?
Unaware of the dangers happening to the nations outside his fortress, Sealand had called a micronation meeting. Just like the nations' world meetings, it was not going smoothly. Ladonia had once again declared that he should be leading the meeting, to which Sealand had not exactly reacted positively.
"I was the one who started this club," Sealand shouted at Ladonia. "So I get to be in control of the meetings."
"But that's unfair," Ladonia snapped, crossing his arms. "Unlike you, I have actually been recognized by Sweden while England refuses to recognize you."
"It doesn't matter what Jerk England says," Sealand said angrily. "I'm a nation!"
"Turkey has recognized me." Northern Cyprus' soft comment went unnoticed as Ladonia and Sealand continued their fight with Wy, Hutt River, Seborga, and Kugelmugel watching them.
"Why are we even here?" Molossia demanded with crossed arms. "I have better things to do with my time." Sealand threw a paperweight at Ladonia who countered by throwing a crumpled ball of paper at Sealand.
"Like what?" Wy asked curiously. Sealand started shouting rude insults at Ladonia and Seborga laughed.
"That's none of your business," Molossia snapped at Wy. Ladonia leapt at Sealand, seizing the other micronation by the front of his sailor suit and shaking him.
"This is art," Kugelmugel said as he examined the paperweight Sealand had thrown. "It's art!" Molossia glared at him and Hutt River laughed.
"If all those two losers are going to do is fight," Molossia said, standing from his chair. "Then I'm out of here."
The American micronation's hand had just brushed the door's handle when the door burst open. He leapt back in surprise, his eyes widening. A seven foot tall man with snowy hair and pearly eyes ducked into the room. He examined the gathered micronations with an aloof air.
"Who the hell are you?" Molossia demanded. Sealand and Ladonia stopped fighting long enough to stare at the newcomer.
"How did you get in here?" Sealand demanded, shoving Ladonia off himself. "This is a secret meeting house."
"It's your house," Molossia roared at Sealand. "There's nothing secret about it!"
"I am Antarctica," the icy man said. A penguin waddled past him and up to Wy, squawking at her.
"Antarctica?" Hutt River repeated, and Northern Cyprus peeked around him. "Haven't I seen you at Australia's house?" Antarctica shrugged but didn't offer any answers.
"But Antarctica's not even a country," Ladonia argued. "There's no possible way it could have a personification."
The penguin squawked at Wy again who made a shooing motion with her hand. It snapped at the micronation's waving hand.
"I might not be a country," Antarctica agreed. "But I am a continent."
"Country or not," Sealand said hotly, crossing his arms. "You're not allowed to be here. This meeting is for micronations only."
"There's nothing wrong with Antarctica being here, is there?" Seborga asked. "He's not recognized by the world either."
"I don't care!" Sealand shouted and stomped his foot. "This is my meeting! Mine!"
"Get away from me," Wy squealed. The penguin had chased her onto a table. It squawked at her once more and pecked at the table.
"Russia sent me to collect you," Antarctica said, ignoring Sealand's temper tantrum. "You are all returning with me to my house."
"Says who?" Molossia demanded angrily.
"Says me," Antarctica said, and with that he swooped down and threw Sealand over his shoulder.
Seborga froze in his pondering of Antarctica's existence and Molossia's mouth hung open. Sealand was still for no more than a second before he started screaming and beating at Antarctica's back.
"Put me down," the British micronation screeched. "You can't treat me like this, I'm a nation!"
And with that, all hell broke loose. The penguin managed to squawk and peck Wy on the leg who shrieked and raced out of the room, the penguin hot on her heels.
"Wy!" Hutt River shouted, and chased after his younger sister.
Molossia threw a punch at Antarctica, surprised when the continent did not react to the blow. Antarctica simply bent down and folded Molossia over his other shoulder.
"Hey!" Molossia shouted angrily. "Put me down!" He beat at Antarctica's back, but to no avail. It was as though Antarctica couldn't feel anything, not even Sealand's blows.
Ladonia, Seborga, Northern Cyprus, and Kugelmugel gaped at Antarctica for no more than a second before for the four of them raced from the room. Antarctica followed them at a more sedated pace.
"Put me down!" Molossia shrieked.
"You can't do this to a country!" Sealand was screaming.
Antarctica made his way through the 'secret base' that was really Sealand's house and to the deck. It was chaos. Wy had been thrown over a scientist's shoulder and Hutt River had been pinned to the ground. Another scientist clutched a screaming laptop close to his chest. Northern Cyprus had been backed into a corner and was crying for Turkey. Seborga was folded over a scientist's shoulder having been knocked out by an accidental blow to the head, Kugelmugel over the other shoulder.
"Is this all of them?" an elderly looking man formed next to Antarctica. It was General Winter.
"Yes," Antarctica said with a nod. "Load them onto the boat," he called to the scientists.
The micronations were herded onto a small ship and locked away in separate rooms. Ladonia was released from his laptop which was confiscated, much to the micronation's anger. Antarctica locked Sealand's door, ignoring the micronation's pounding on the steel, and turned away to return to the control room. He wanted to get home as quickly as he could.
.o.)O(.o.
It was a fifteen hour flight from Moscow to Austen, Texas. If the plane ride had been uncomfortable; it was nothing compared to the dry weather of Texas. Belarus had started sweating the moment she'd stepped off the plane, not used to such hot temperatures, but Russia had been just fine. In fact, he'd seemed to be enjoying the weather. He even refused to remove his coat, despite Cuba's warnings.
"Why are we here?" Cuba asked as he stalked through the barren land. "I forgot why you dragged me all the way to la casa del hijo de puta. (the bastard's house.)" He had made his opinion of being in America's land vocal ever since his first step off the plane.
"My agents have noticed a disturbance of some kind around this area," Russia said, looking around himself. All around them was a strange blend of desert and tropical terrain with the grass growing tall.
"It's not our problem," Cuba grumbled before trailing off into indistinguishable Spanish.
"Big Brother," Belarus said, ignoring Cuba's complaints. "I must speak to you about something important."
"Da, what is it?" Russia asked fearfully. He prayed she wasn't going to ask him to marry her.
Belarus had just opened her mouth to respond when a shot rang through the air, causing Cuba to jump in surprise and Russia's head to snap up. The shot was followed moments later by an angry voice.
"Stay off my land, you rotten varmint!" The voice was young and female with a strange twang in it.
Another voice rang through the air. "You little puta!" Cuba's heart sunk at his sister's recognizable tone.
"Was that Mexico?" Russia asked Cuba who nodded grimly.
"Sí," Cuba said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I'd know la voz de mi hermana (the voice of my sister) anywhere. I don't know who the other chica is, though."
"¡Vuelve aquí, así que puedo disparar! (Get back here so I can shoot you!)" The shout was followed by several shots being fired into the air.
"¡No!" the second voice shouted back. "¿Quién es usted? (Who are you?)" A Hispanic woman with dark hair falling in curls crested the hill. She wore a dress that had a white blouse and black skirt decorated with green and red swirls.
"¡Yo soy esta tierra, puta! (I am this land!)" The twanging voice was followed by a blonde woman who looked remarkably like America. She had a shotgun clutched in her hands.
Mexico yelped when the shorter girl fired a shot into the air and raced down the hill. Spotting the three nations at the base, she raced for cover behind the tallest: Russia.
"¡Usted no es América! (You aren't America!)" Mexico shouted from behind Russia.
Russia stood his ground with a straight face against the girl bearing down on him, the shotgun aimed at the sky. The blonde girl came to a skidding halt before him.
"What is going on here?" Russia asked, but his question went ignored as the girl with the twanging accent continued her angry rant.
"¡Sí!" the girl said angrily. "Siempre voy a ser el sur de América. Usted no tiene derecho a esta tierra, ahora salir. (I will always be the South of America. You have no right to this land, now leave.)"
Russia blinked, trying to figure out what was going on between the two girls. The language barrier was making it rather difficult, though.
"Privet," Russia said to the girl standing before her. "I am Russia." The girl cocked her head like a curious dog.
"Dame el varmint, y nadie se saldrá herido," the girl said, cocking the shotgun in a rather threatening manner.
Russia looked to Cuba. "What did she say?" he asked curiously.
"She said 'give me the varmint, and no one gets hurt'," Cuba translated for Russia and Belarus. "I'm pretty sure she was being serious." He eyed the shotgun in the girl's hands warily.
Reaching over the small distance, Russia grabbed the shotgun and wrenched it out of the girl's hand. The girl gave an angry cry of dismay when her gun was snapped in half over the Slavic nation's knee.
"Not anymore, da," Russia said, tossing the pieces of the gun aside. The girl gaped at him for a moment or two before suddenly leaping at him and punching every bit of Russia she could reach.
"¡Hijo de puta!" the girl shrieked furiously. "¿Cómo pudiste hacer eso? (How could you do that?)"
Russia shoved the girl back to the ground. "YA ne govoryu po-ispanski, malen'kuyu devochku," he said dangerously. "Kto ty? (Who are you?)"
"No importa, (Never mind,)" the girl said, ignoring Russia's questions. "Tengo más. (I have more.)" She ripped a pistol from her bot and aimed it at Mexico when the nation stuck her head around Russia.
"Eep!" Mexico jerked her head back before the girl could fire a shot at her.
Russia was prepared to tackle the girl in order to make her stop when a hand closed around the girl's. Belarus stepped between her brother and the girl.
"Spyni, Juh, (Stop, South,)" Belarus said gently.
Mexico peered around Russia curiously once more. "¿Qué?" she demanded hotly. Her remark went unnoticed as the girl stared at Belarus in shock.
"JA ciabie viedaju? (Do I know you?)" the girl asked in slight shock.
"Tak, JA Bielaruś, (I am Belarus,)" Belarus told the girl, keeping a steady gaze. The girl cocked her head like a puppy, thinking for a moment, before she broke out into a wide smile.
"Bélarus!" she exclaimed in French, throwing herself into a tight hug. Belarus surprised her bother by returning the hug almost as enthusiastically.
"You know this little girl?" Russia asked his younger sister in shock.
"Tak," Belarus said, pulling out of the hug. "This is what I needed to tell you about, Big Brother."
"Who is she?" Cuba asked curiously.
"¡Una puta!" Mexico shouted from behind Russia.
"Sigue hablando, (Keep talking,) varmint," the girl said, leaning around Russia to glare at Mexico. "Y voy a dispararte. (And I will shoot you.)"
"Chica loca, (Crazy girl,)" Mexico spat.
"Vaya de nuevo a donde perteneces, te varmint podrido, (Go back where you belong, you rotten varmint,)" the American girl retorted.
"Ambos de te callas, (Both of you shut up,)" Cuba roared before either of the Spanish-speaking women could yell at each other. "Antes de que me golpee sus cabezas juntas. (Before I knock your heads together!)" Mexico huffed while the girl rocked back on her heels.
"Belarus," Russia said to his younger sister. "Who is this little girl?" He had just realized this was the very girl from the footage he had seen in the surveillance room.
"This is the Confederate States of America," Belarus said calmly. "But we call her South." It was so quiet, the chirping crickets were heard in the distance.
"Net," Russia finally said. "The Confederate States of America lost; he is dead."
South flushed brightly. "Hear tell, big guy," she snapped at Russia. "You ain't ever goin' to call me a boy again, or I'll whup you into the next week." She jabbed Russia rather hard in the chest to make her point clear. "You will never speak to me in such a manner again. I'll be, callin' me a boy. I'm fit as a fiddle here and now. Who do y'all think you are, anyway?" South glared at Russia.
Snapping out of his daze, Russia found his voice. "I am Russia," he said. "And this is Comrade Cuba. Apparently you already know my little sister Belarus, and Mexico."
South glared at Mexico. "Uppity varmint," she growled. "Thinkin' she can come into Big Brother's land and take it for herself."
"Then you already know Little America has been kidnapped?" Russia asked in surprise.
"Someone came, yes," South admitted. "They told me Big Brother was missin'. I felt it in my gut a few days ago, and I always trust my gut. Unless I eat bad Mexican food, then I just try to ignore it." Mexico glowered at her.
"Who told you?" Russia pressed.
"Well, he said he was North's brother," South said slowly. "But he ain't!" She stomped her foot in a childish rage.
"Do you mean Canada?" Russia asked after a moment of thinking. There was only one other possible nation who would call himself America's brother.
"Yeah, Canida," South said, sounding very sure of the way she had said the northern nation's name.
Cuba smacked himself in the forehead. "She's as bad as the hija de puta," he muttered to himself.
"Net," Russia said with a shake of his head. "It is 'Canada'."
"That's what I said," South said firmly. "Cinada." Russia sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, but South didn't stop there. "Hey, did y'all hear the one how a country got their name? They picked letters out of a hat and said: 'C, eh, N, eh, D, eh'!" She looked at the group excitedly, as though expecting praise.
"She can't remember his name," Cuba said through gritted teeth. "But she can remember a joke about him?" he demanded.
"Eh!" South exclaimed.
"I do not have time for this," Russia muttered.
"She has short-term memory loss," Belarus admitted. The way she said this suggested South's problems didn't stop there.
"I do not care if she is bipolar," Russia snapped at his sister in annoyance. "We need to return to my house so I can find Finland and Estonia."
"I'm bipolar?" South repeated incredulously. "Don't you dare go callin' me names, big guy." She took a threatening step toward Russia, stopping at the sight of a black bear waddling in their direction.
"You are so cute," South squealed, crouching down to scratch the bear behind the ears. "Who are you?"
The bear looked around himself boredly. "I'm Smokey," he told South. "Your pet bear."
"I have a pet bear?" South asked curiously. "Since when?"
"She is bipolar?" Russia asked Belarus
"Tak," Belarus said with a nod.
"What should we do with her?" Cuba asked Russia. Mexico peeked around Russia one more time and glared at South and Smokey.
"You take your sister and South to your house," Russia said after some thinking. "Belarus and I will return home to search for Finland."
"Why am I stuck with the crazy girl and the murderous sister?" Cuba panicked, earning himself a furious glare from his sister.
"Because they are both near your house," Russia explained. "Don't worry; I have a crybaby and a psychopath to deal with." Russia gave Cuba a smile that sent shivers down the island nation's spine.
Belarus glared at her brother. "I hope you are not talking about me, Big Brother," she said hotly. "I believe there is a church nearby."
"Net," Russia said quickly. "Of course not, my wonderful little sister."
"The church?" South asked, straightening up from petting Smokey. "It's down yonder." She waved a hand in the direction of the nearest town.
"Net." Russia slapped a hand over South's mouth. "Cuba, take the little crazy girl and her target to your house."
South peeled Russia's hand off her mouth. "Crazy?" she repeated incredulously. "I ain't crazy!"
"And I am not her target," Mexico added quickly, crossing her arms.
"I do not have time for this," Russia growled. "Poydem, (Let's go,) Belarus'." Turning, he led his sister back the way they had come.
"Let's get going," Russia heard Cuba say to South and Mexico. "Grab your bear."
"What bear?" South asked. There was a moment of silence, then:
"¡Maldita sea, Rusia!"
.o.)O(.o.
It was an underground room that had been built nearly sixty years ago. The constructors had passed away during that time, taking the secret location with them to the grave. Now only two people knew what and where the room was exactly. And it had been their meeting place during those long years.
The room was furnished with nothing but a single table and two identical chairs. A faded red line split both the table and the room in half equally. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling on a cord. It had been installed later, after the construction, and ran completely on batteries.
Korea couldn't sit still. He had tried sitting down several times and had failed in each attempt. The excitement was just too much for him; he couldn't handle it.
A door adjacent to the one Korea had come through opened and the Asian nation whirled around excitedly. His near doppelganger stood before him. North Korea was thinner and shorter than Korea with sharply prominent features. He wore his hair long, pulled back into a ponytail, like China. His olive green uniform had been neatly pressed.
"North, da-ze!" Korea called excitedly, launching himself at his twin brother who caught him just in time.
"Annyeonghaseyo, brother," North Korea greeted stiffly. "What is you want this time, ez-ad?'
"Aw, straight to business?" Korea whined. "Don't you just want to talk about fun things?" When North Korea's straight face didn't change Korea gave in. "You aren't answering Russia's calls, da-ze."
"If that is the only reason you called me here to talk," North Korea said. "Then I am leaving, ez-ad." He turned to do so but was stopped when Korea grabbed his sleeve.
"Russia really needs to talk to you, da-ze," Korea said. North Korea gave him a firm glare that specifically said 'no', and Korea decided to use his secret weapon. He smiled.
North Korea's heart melted in an instant. "What is it?" he asked, turning back to his older brother. "What is so important Russia has called me thirteen times, ez-ad?"
"It's about Denmark, Norway, and Sweden," Korea said quickly before North Korea could change his mind. "They kidnapped America and Canada; and now they have Aniki and Hong Kong, da-ze."
"Mueos, ez-ad?" North Korea asked in a shocked voice.
"Ye," Korea said with a nod. "That's why Russia sent me to see you. North . . . Russia wants you to come out of isolation, da-ze."
"Why?" North Korea demanded hotly. "So the outside world can persecute me for what I've done, ez-ad?"
"Ani! Ani! Ani!" Korea said quickly, shaking his head. "Russia thinks there's a war coming, and he wants your help. He says we can't do this without you." North Korea narrowed his eyes, thinking, and Korea gave his brother his softest smile. "Nayo? (Please?)" he begged. "For Aniki, da-ze?"
North Korea thought for several more minutes and for a moment it looked as though he was going to say no. He finally spoke.
"Fine, let us go, ez-ad."
.o.)O(.o.
The smell of Linzer Tarts wafted through the kitchen and into the entire house. It made Liechtenstein's stomach grumble as she sat at the kitchen table, watching Austria make the treat.
"I just don't understand why Switzerland is making such a fuss about trading," Austria said, continuing his rant from picking Liechtenstein up at the border. "He doesn't have to do it at all if all he's going to do is complain about Italy and Netherlands."
Liechtenstein smiled at her older brother. "He didn't want to go," she said. "But I asked him to. Big Brother just wants to make me happy."
"I have never seen him care so much for someone," Austria sniffed. "He never care for me that much; and we're brothers."
"Maybe Big Brother just has a hard time trusting people," Liechtenstein suggested. "He likes to shoot at Italy and Italy's his younger brother."
"Humph," Austria huffed. "He once told me to shut up when I had an arrow in my butt." Liechtenstein giggled, trying to stifle it behind a hand.
There was a sudden bang that caused Liechtenstein to jump in her chair and Austria to drop the mixing bowl. The ceramic dish shattered on the floor, batter flying everywhere. The front door had been kicked open.
"Hej, Austria," Denmark called as he stalked through kitchen door. "We've come ta play!"
Norway appeared in the living room's doorway and Sweden blocked the back door. Austria stared in shock at the three Scandinavian nations. Never before had he seen his cousins act so violently; at least, not in the recent years.
"What are you three doing here?" Austria demanded, snapping out of his daze. "I did not invited you over. So rude!"
"Like I said," Denmark said. "We came ta play." He lunged forward at Liechtenstein who screamed and ducked past him.
"Liech!" Austria shouted, grabbing his younger sister and dragging her behind himself. "Bleib bei mir. (Stay with me.)"
"Aw, come on," Denmark cooed sinisterly. "Don't ya want ta play, Liech?" Liechtenstein sobbed into the back of Austria's coat and shook her head.
"Liechtenstein," Austria said stiffly, keeping his eyes on Denmark and Norway. "Sie müssen auf mich hören. (You need to listen to me.)"
"J-Ja," Liechtenstein sniffed. Austria could feel her trembling through his coat.
"Wenn Sie können, in das Wohnzimmer, (When you can, get to the living room,)" Austria told his younger sister. "Dort ist ein Schrank neben dem Kamin. (There is a cabinet beside the fireplace.)"
"Ja," Liechtenstein said again.
Denmark looked between the German siblings. "What are ya saying?" he asked suspiciously. "Is it something we need ta know?"
"It is none of your business, Denmark," Austria said stiffly.
"I think it is," Denmark said. He grabbed his axe from inside his jacket and swung it at Austria's head. Liechtenstein screamed shrilly.
Austria grabbed the handle of the axe and kicked Denmark in the stomach, wrenching the weapon from the nation's grip. The axe was then thrown in Norway's direction. The Nordic nation was forced to leap aside, lest he be sliced in half.
"Geh, (Go,) Liech!" Austria shouted.
Liechtenstein darted forward, ducking under Denmark's reaching hands, and darted into the living room. It was a spacious room furnished with velvet couches and a coffee table. Beside the fireplace at the other end of the room was the cabinet Austria had told Liechtenstein about. Running the length of the room, Liechtenstein ripped it open to find both a long sword and a short sword hanging on a rack.
"Austria," Liechtenstein called over her shoulder, unsure what to do next.
"Bring them to me," Austria shouted. There was a crash in the kitchen as Norway was thrown across the counter, sending flour puffing into the air.
Liechtenstein grabbed the long sword with two hands and ran back to the kitchen. Denmark hit the wall just as Liechtenstein arrived in the doorway and slid down to the floor. He stood, massaging his back, then spotted Liechtenstein.
"Got ya!" Denmark crowed, grabbing the younger nation by the wrist.
"Nein," Liechtenstein squealed helplessly. "Austria, helfen Sie mir! (help me!)"
"Release her!" Austria ordered, slamming a fist into Denmark's temple. The taller nation yelped and released Lichtenstein who was dragged back behind her brother. Austria took his sword from her.
"That was a lucky move," Denmark growled as he stood, rubbing his chin. He grabbed his axe from the floor and swung at Austria's head.
Austria stepped aside, easily dodging the weapon. There was the sound of metal being sliced and a strange hissing sound. Norway and Sweden froze, and Denmark looked confused for a split second. Then the wall burst into flames.
"Scheiße," Austria swore. He made to back away from the flames but was stopped when Denmark and Sweden advanced on him. Norway closed of their escape route through the back door.
Liechtenstein sobbed into the back of Austria's coat, terrified of the situation. Unsheathing his sword, Austria clutched the weapon in both hands. The metal was both familiar and odd in his hands. He hadn't held a sword in many years.
"Leave now," Austria ordered his cousins. "Now."
"The way I see it, Austria," Denmark drawled lazily. "Ya've got one choice: come with us."
Austria glanced over his shoulder at the lapping flames before he made his decision.
"I would never," he said, and he charged Norway with his sword raised.
Norway caught the swing on his own sword, and the two nations began to duel. Liechtenstein watched the parries and jabs with wide eyes, as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Austria turned to dodge a blow and his eyes fell on Liechtenstein. They widened in horror.
"Liech," Austria shouted, diving for his younger sister. "Ducken! (Duck!)" He wrapped himself around Liechtenstein's small frame just as the oven behind them exploded.
The fire roared and spread with the speed of a wildfire, devouring everything in its path. Nothing was left untouched. Not the treasured piano or the pictures lining the walls. Not even the vehicles in the garage survived.
Denmark, Norway, and Sweden fled the burning house, coughing. They only turned back to watch the building burn when they were a safe distance away. The flames were licking at the evening sky.
"Well," Denmark said slowly. "That didn't go exactly as planned."
.o.)O(.o.
The door slammed open and collided with the wall, leaving a large dent in the wall to join the many others already there. Kumajirou was dropped heavily to the floor beside the umbrella stand. The polar bear glared at the man who had moments ago been carrying him.
"West," Prussia shouted loudly. "I'm home. West?" When he received no answer, he scratched his head, Gilbird hopping out of the way in the process.
"Who are you?" Kumajirou asked Prussia.
"Not now, Poley," Prussia told the polar bear, waving a hand at him. Kumajirou looked like he was seriously considering biting the hand. "West?"
Prussia wandered through the house, searching for some sign of his younger brother. There was none, until the ex-nation made his way into the kitchen. A note had been pinned to the fridge by a magnet.
Prussia,
I have gone to speak to France about leaving Italy and Romano alone. He was trying to sneak into their house . . . again. Stay out of trouble and try not to blow up the house.
Your kleiner bruder,
Germany.
P.S. There's beer in the fridge.
"Huh, so West is out," Prussia said to himself. "I have the house all to myself with beer and a polar bear. Awesome!" He cackled and opened the fridge to grab a beer. Popping it open, he downed half of it.
"West got the good stuff," Prussia told Kumajirou as he made his way into the hallway. The ex-nation froze, his eyes widening in terror. His beer slipped from his hand and the bottle shattered on the ground.
"You?" Prussia managed to get out before something long and hard swung at his head. Military training kicked in and Prussia ducked the weapon.
Rolling back into the kitchen, Prussia doubled back through another door that led into the living room. From there he darted into the hallway, wrenched the closet door open, and grabbed his old sword. He spun around just in time to unsheathe the sword and block another blow.
"What are you doing here?" Prussia demanded, shoving his attacker away from. The taller male didn't speak as he swung once more at Prussia's head. The ex-nation dodged the blow again and skipped back.
"Missed," Prussia cackled, tossing his sword between his hands. "You missed me. How un-awesome." He yelped when he was struck on the top of his head. "Hey! No fair!"
The attacker didn't respond as he struck Prussia hard on the wrist. Pain zipped through Prussia's wrist and he dropped his sword with a gasp. His hand hung limply at his side; his wrist sprained badly, if not broken.
"Scheiße," Prussia swore, grabbing his wrist with his other hand. He backed away from his attacker, a defiant look on his face. "You're not taking me alive," he spat.
Prussia's sword was kicked behind the attacker who raised his weapon for another blow. The weapon struck Prussia on the temple, sending the ex-nation to the floor with a groan. Prussia barely had a moment to recuperate when a strong hand closed around his throat, crushing his windpipe.
"Hey," Prussia wheezed. He scrabbled at his attacker's hand with his own good one, but it was useless. The grip was strong as steel and cold as ice. Prussia coughed, his lungs screaming for air as the seconds passed.
Finally, the ex-nation fell to the ground with a thump and the intruder released his grip. Bending down, he folded the unconscious Prussia over his shoulder. Kumajirou wandered into the room in time to see Prussia being kidnapped.
"Hey," Kumajirou called after the intruder. "What do you think you're doing?" He backed away when the intruder turned toward him and bent down. "No, get away from me!" The polar bear turned to run but was grabbed around the scruff by a strong hand. "Let me go!" He struggled uselessly. Gilbird chirped loudly, fluttering around the intruder's hair before finally settling in it.
The intruder left the house with Prussia over one shoulder and Kumajirou under one arm. His scarf waved in the wind and snow as he made his way toward the waiting van.
We came ta play.
A/N: What did you think?
This chapter took me all day, after a stressful five hour shift. :P I work at an office supplies store now, having quit my job at the clothing store before school started. You know, when we first started Return to the Viking Age I didn't really have a job. Look how far I've come. Huh, I'm getting nostalgic. Bleagh. See y'all in the next story.