Chapter 13
There's a phrase that I could use here, I think, Alyson mused, her eyes shut tightly against the throbbing ache that continued to radiate from her bruised jaw. Now what is it...
Oh, right.
"I am so fucking screwed," she declared out loud, not really expecting a response from the silent room that she had been huddled in for the God-knows-how-long.
"No shit," someone else groaned, their youthful voice cracking with a mixture of pain and fear.
Alyson stiffened and lifted her head from its current position on her curled up knees, her green eyes flying open as she combed the room for the source of the voice.
"...Cielo?" she whispered, not entirely sure if the slim boy with bloodied dark hair was real.
"Si," the Italian muttered, his thin arms wrapped tightly against the legs that he had curled against his heaving chest.
"How long have you been in here?" Alyson demanded, her eyes flickering unwillingly to the blood that was still dripping from a wound to the boy's skull. She frowned when she noticed a small crack in the lens of her glasses, her trembling fingers tugging irritably at a few strands of tangled golden hair that had fallen into her sweaty face.
Cielo shrugged, his face half-turned away from the American. "Yo no sé (I don't know)," he muttered. "As long as you?"
Alyson' frown deepened and she leaned forward, her palms pressing against the cold stone floor in an effort to steady herself. "Why didn't you talk to me before, then? I thought I was alone in this shit-hole."
The boy shrugged again, his shoulders trembling long after the small movement had been completed. "I... was afraid that you wouldn't answer."
Alyson blinked and slowly edged forward until she was next to Cielo, her eyes widening in alarm when she saw the tears that were welling in the boy's wide amber eyes.
"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.
The Italian shuddered and shot her a half-hearted glare, not quite able to hide the fear in his eyes.
"I was conscious when they dragged me in here," he whispered. "I don't know if they knew but... I could see everything. They dragged me passed other rooms, a-and the others were in them but I couldn't... Katerina wasn't there, I didn't see her but... I looked into one and... Dio...D-dio..."
Cielo shuddered violently and pitched forward, the tears now streaming down his cheeks as he scrubbed furiously at them with his clenched hands. Alyson caught him moments before he collapsed onto the floor, her heart sinking as he continued to stammer words in choked Italian and Spanish. Shit, she wasn't good at comforting people... Katerina and Marc were were more suited to this... Still, she could try.
"Cielo," she murmured. "Cielo, sweetie, you need to tell me what you saw, alright? I know you're upset, but you need to tell me: Is any one hurt?"
The boy bit back a small sob and unexpectedly buried his face into Alyson's soiled t-shirt, his trembling fingers seeking hers as he whispered a small swear.
"S-S-Saichi," he whimpered. "I s-saw her and s-she wasn't moving, Aly. Sh-she wasn't moving and there was b-blood o-on her shirt... S-so much blood..."
Alyson paled and tightened her grip on the crying boy, her heart hammering in her chest at the thought of Saichi... No, nononononono, she can't be dead...
"Did you see anyone else?" she pressed, struggling to keep her voice calm as she rubbed gentle circles into Cielo's back.
He nodded slowly. "A-achilles... He was in another room. H-he d-doesn't know a-about Saichi... M-magnus was with him I t-think. H-his head is bl-bleeding like mine, a-and Francisco was being thrown in with them as I passed. Marc... Marc was with Saichi." He stopped and ducked his head, his shoulders still trembling.
Alyson took a deep breath and reached out to grasp the boy's chin, forcing him to look at her. Cielo glared and struggled weakly against her grip, his amber eyes still wide with fear and streaming with tears.
"What about Kat?" she asked quietly.
He shook his head, his jaw clenched. "S-she wasn't in any of the rooms that they sh-showed me," he croaked.
Alyson groaned and released his chin, allowing the younger teen to bury his head in her shoulder once more. She held onto him tightly, her blonde head bent over his as her vision began to blur. She glanced towards the locked door that separated them from the rest of her loved ones, her heart sinking like a stone in her chest when she saw a familiar scrawl carved into the aged wood of the door.
I know where we are...
"Then where the bloody hell are they?"
England was talking to the air again.
America was slumped in his chair at the meeting room table, his face buried in his shaking hands as his lover continued to hiss furious questions to his 'magical friends'. Around him, the American could hear the soft thuds of anxious and agitated footsteps against the meeting room floor, although he refused to look up and see who it was. He didn't think that he could see his brother's devastated expression again without breaking down...
"I don't care if it's difficult to track them, Pyx! Take some of my magic if you need to, alright? This is my daughter-"
"Arthur..."
"Dammit, Tink, I know you're upset but you need to tell me what you saw! What did they look like? How many of them were there?"
"Arthur."
"Yes she can see you! Tink has already said as much. For God's sake, Hook, don't you listen to anything?"
"Arthur."
"Minty, have you heard anything from-"
"ARTHUR, SHUT UP!"
England jumped and glanced down at America, his emerald eyes flashing with hurt as Alfred lifted his head to glare at him. After a moment, the Briton's expression hardened and he returned the glare.
"What?" he demanded icily. "Did you not notice that I was in the middle of an important-"
"Shut up," Alfred whispered wearily. "Just shut up..."
"Alfred, I don't think you understand-"
"No, no, I don't! I don't understand how you think that now is the time to be conversing with your damn imaginary friends! Our kid is missing!"
"I'm aware of that!" Arthur yelled, immediately grabbing the attention of those nations that hadn't heard Alfred's shout moments before. "Why do you think I'm talking to the fairies? They can help us-"
"How the hell can they help if they're not real?"
That was a mistake. Alfred felt his heart sink as Arthur's jaw tightened and he turned away, his green eyes suspiciously-bright beneath his tousled gold hair. America sighed and reached out to the Briton, only to wince as England jerked away.
"Arthur..."
"Don't touch me!" England snapped. "They are real.." he added quietly.
America groaned and ran a hand through his hair, his baby-blue eyes narrowing uneasily when he saw the others watching him with various expressions of sympathy and irritation. Alfred ignored them and turned back to the Englishman that was sitting stiffly next to him, his face turned carefully away from Alfred's.
"Where are they?' Alfred asked quietly.
"Who?" Arthur snapped curtly.
"Your... The fairies."
England shot him a suspicious glare and reluctantly gestured to the air above his left shoulder, his eyes narrowing into slits when America immediately focused on the air.
Alfred took a deep breath leaned forward, his expression falling into one of sheepish apology.
"Uh... Hey, fairies?" he mumbled hesitantly. "Look, I'm sorry for, you know, saying you don't exist and... stuff. I'm just really worried about my kid, okay? I just- I just got her back, and she's... she's so much like Artie, and I can't stand not knowing if she's okay, or if she's hurt or..." His voice trailed off and he swallowed thickly, his blue eyes shutting briefly as pain and worry overwhelmed him. England watched him carefully, his lips falling open slightly in shock and awe, his cheeks suddenly wet.
America cleared his throat and refocused on the air over England's shoulder. "Alright, I still can't see you, and to be honest, right now I feel kind of insane for talking to you, but... If Iggy trusts you, then fine. Do whatever you have to to find our kid, and I... I promise I'll... I don't know, I'll stop whining whenever you guys have a conversation with Artie at 3 in the morning right after we've had se-"
"They get the message!" England broke in hastily, his cheeks bright red. He smiled tentatively at America and allowed the younger nation to pull him close, his head resting gently on Alfred's shoulder. "...Thank you."
America smiled and gave England's shoulder a squeeze. "We'll find her, Artie."
England nodded and allowed his gaze to wander around the rest of the room, his eyes darkening slightly when they met Canada's sad violets.
Matthew managed a small half-smile for his former guardian, his gaze flickering almost immediately to the angry Russian at his side as Ivan continued to hiss frantic instructions to what remained of the KGB, his free hand clenched into a powerful fist by his side. A little ways away, Italy was crying quietly in a chair, his wide hazel eyes following Germany as the blond stalked restlessly across the room, his normally-stoic features twisted into murderous fury. Greece paced several feet away, his moss-green eyes unusually-sharp and flashing dangerously beneath his tangled brown hair, his slim fingers wrapped so tightly around his cellphone that his knuckles were white. Every so often, England caught a snatches of rapid, furious Greek interspersed with rough Arabic and murmured curses that the Briton assumed were directed towards Turkey.
Like Italy, Japan was huddled in a chair of his own in a far corner of the room, his head bent over his own phone as he communicated quietly with his relatives. England winced when he several distinctive wails from China and Taiwan, remembering the screams and curses that his own brothers had fired into his eardrums when he had called them earlier. Most of the other nations' relatives had also been called and were out in the streets of New York City streets searching for the teens. Norway had summoned his own sprites into the search, and England couldn't help but shudder at thought of whatever poor soul crossed the Dane, Swede, and Fin that were with the Norwegian, not to mention Switzerland and Hungary, who were currently stalking through Brooklyn armed with several rifles and a frying pan.
A whispered curse forced England's thoughts back to the meeting room, making the Briton focus immediately on the other Italian in the area. Romano was crouched protectively on the ground, his anxious and furious amber eyes following Spain as the country of passion attempted to smash his fist into the wall once again, only to be held back by France and Prussia before the blow could connect. Francis and Gilbert had arrived several minutes earlier, having been summoned- incredibly enough- by Lovino to help calm Antonio. The Spaniard had nearly barreled into the streets when they had first discovered that the teens were missing, and it had taken the combined efforts of Germany, America, Romano, and Russia to hold him back. England found himself feeling a glimmer of sympathy for his former nemesis, his fury roiling within him as he thought of the bastards that had taken his daughter away from him once again. There would be hell to pay for the fools that had dared to-
"England?"
Arthur stiffened and turned immediately to the bright gold fairy that was now hovering in front of his eyes, her wings fluttering nervously against her back.
"What did you find, Pyx?" he asked quietly, his muscles tensing when Alfred immediately glanced down at him.
The fairy shot a small smile towards the confused American before she turned back to England, her expression immediately grim.
"I found them."
Sooo... This took a little longer than I thought~ Sorry for the delay!
Also, just a quick warning: Finals- curse them- are starting at the end of this week, so most of my days are going to be spent studying until they are over. This will probably cause another delay in my updating schedule, but there is good news! Summer is coming! :D
Please forgive me for taking so long, and please have patience, okay? I swear more is coming (and honestly, I think a lot of people would want to kill me if I ended the story here). Wish me luck on my finals!
You guys rock, and good luck with your own end of the year strife! Please review!