Hey everybody! X3 Welcome to Chapter 3 of Missing. I really hope you enjoy it.

I apologize in advance for any OOCness on my part, sorry. DX

But anywho! ENJOY!

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing! Which, grammatically means I do! So ha! (Really...I don't {sniff})

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"Duuuuuuuuuuuuude..."
Berwald groaned.
'Damn you. Leave me sleep. I'm so tired...'
"Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude..."
He groaned even louder when the pain finally hit him, it felt like he had been hit by a train.
His skull was on the verge of explosion, and his body raked with frozen coughs.
"Dude! Calm down man."
"C'n't, (cough) dyin' of (cough) suff'cat'on (cough)..."
He heard soft footsteps as he nearly coughed up a lung, and a glass of water was quickly pushed into his bandaged hands.
"Oh, shove over Mathias! Let him breathe,"
Berwald froze.
'Mathias? Who are these people?'
Then it hit him, and he shot up in his bed, his eyes searching.
"W'ere 'm ah? W-wha's g'in' on?"
"Woah! Sir! Please, calm down..."
Soft hands pushed him back down onto the mattress, but he refused to calm down.
"Wha's g'in' on? W'ere 'm ah? Who are yoo pe'ple?"
"Calm down man! You need to rest."
Berwald weakly fought of his savor's, or was it kidnapper's, hold, but in the end they held true. He quickly grew tired as he struggled, and he eyelids grew heavy with sleep.
He started to slip into dreamland when a rough hand shook him awake.
"Hey, Hey! Dude? What's your name?"
Berwald thought for a moment, and then replied drowsily, "A-ah don' r'member..."

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Berwald woke up the next day in an unfamiliar room.
His eyes widened for a second, but then he remembered the previous night, and they widened further.
He sat up in bed and spun around when he heard noises drifting down the hall and through the crack under his closed door.
It sounded like voices.
He quickly and quietly slipped out of bed, and stood up.
Nausea hit him, and he swayed a little leaning against a nearby table.
'Maybe a little to quickly...'
After regaining himself, and the nausea floated away, he started to shuffle toward the closed doors, his feet not yet ready to work, and his eyes cloudy making it hard to see.
He squinted.
'I feel like a newborn...' He thought as he stumbled around a wooden chest at the foot of the small bed.
As he rounded the corner, the large man spotted a mirror near the door.
Curious, he directed his ice-block like feet towards it, and shuffled on.
When he finally reached it, he realized many things.
First off, he looked terrible.
He was completely discolored.
Bruises covered his pale skin in blues and browns and yellows.
His lip was split, and dried blood stuck to his chin in thin strands.
An equally bloody bandage was expertly wrapped around the tall swede's head in a tight circle.
His head hurt terribly, and his eyes blurred further when he focused on the pain.
Berwald also noticed, under the bruises and bandages, startling cerulean eyes, squinting with discomfort, and shocking ice-blond hair mopped messily on the top of his head.
He was frowning and he blinked with surprise at his own reflection.
'I-is that really me?'
Berwald shifted his hand towards his face but he felt his arm caught on something.
He looked down and saw his arm, bruised and broken lying helplessly in a sling.
'What exactly happened to me?'
Shocked and confused, Berwald decided that it was best to brave the outside world, and meet his two saviors (Kidnappers?).
Sighing with pain, he crept out his bedroom door and into the hall leading to the whispering voices.
As he approached them, Berwald notice the voices get louder and harsher.
From the sound of it, he assumed the two people were arguing about something very important.
"You're supposed to put the cereal in the bowl, BEFORE you pour in the milk, dip-shit!"
"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW!"
"YOU IDIOT!"
Uh, maybe not...
Bewald, having reached the end of the hallway, reluctantly peeked his head around the corner, and starred at the sight in front of him.
Two men stood there.
One, taller than the other, had light, wheat hair, stuck up and spiky.
The other, shorter than the first, was a little more unusual.
He had ice-blonde hair with a strange curl sticking out of the left side of his head.
But Berwald couldn't see much, considering he was starring at their backs.
He took a small step forward, and the hardwood floor beneath him creaked under his weight.
The two in the kitchen paused in their argument, and spun around towards the shocked swede.
"Oh! I see you're up, good-morning.", the shortest of the two exclaimed, avoiding Berwald's icy gaze.
He twitched in annoyance, but kept silent.
It was kind of his thing.
"Mornin'. How's the head?"
Berwald glanced up at the taller in confusion.
The man just smiled on, oblivious of the swede's normally terrifying glare.
"F-f'ne. He'd h'rts."
The tall man pulled open a cupboard door, letting it slam against the opposite wall with a loud clatter.
The smaller cringed.
"Aha! An accent! I thought you might have been different! I mean, you don't look Canadian. Well, no one really looks Canadian. We're all from a different country. Well most of us, some are just-"
"MATHIAS! Shut the fuck up!"
Silence.
The shorter ruffled his newspaper from his seat at the table.
"My god."
The taller rubbed the back of his neck guiltily.
"Sorry Luke, just curious."
'Luke' huffed in agitation, but stayed silent.
Berwald's icy gaze slipped between the two worriedly.
"'m Sw'dish."
"Oooh! Makes sense. Ya kinda remind me of the Swedish Chef, you know, on the Muppets." Mathias stated, smiling down at the cereal he was currently destroying.
"M'pp'ts?"
"Ahhh, never mind."
An uncomfortable silence enveloped them, and Berwald shifted uncomfortably in the hall entrance.
"So," 'Luke' said, putting down the newspaper, "Do you remember what happened?"
Berwald starred at him, "N-no."
"I thought so."
"Wha' do yoo mean?"
'Luke' looked at him with a smirk on his face, and a gleam of knowledge in his violet eyes.
Berwald gulped nervously.
"You, my friend, don't seem to have any memory of what happened to you previous to the night you woke up here."
Berwald's eyes widened with fear and a sickening feeling settled into the pit of his gut.
The swede struggled to remember anything, anything at all, to prove the smaller man wrong, but yet as he thought he realized the man was absolutely right.
He couldn't remember anything of his previous life.
Anything at all.

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Thanks for reading guys! XD

And once again I apologize for any OOCnessiness.

Arrivederci!~! X3