Chapter 15

Magnus was being held by his brother.

This wasn't the first time that something like this had happened- contrary to popular belief, Francisco was the elder twin, and his protective-older-brother instinct tended to surface quite easily most of the time.

Still, he couldn't remember a time when Francisco had held him so gently... Or when his twin's features had been so grim and stained with blood.

"Y-You need to lie down, bruder," Magnus managed to croak. "Your head..."

Francisco shrugged, his blue eyes tightening infinitesimally at the pain that was probably shuddering through his bruised body. The Italian twin hadn't told his brother why he had been thrown into the cell later than the others. He didn't need to.

Magnus could see the red marks on his brother's neck.

"...I want Cielo..." Achilles moaned from his corner of the room, his voice weaker than it had been the last time he spoke. "Saichi... Where is my sister?"

"We don't know, Achilles," Francisco murmured, his own voice strained by blood-loss and exhaustion.

"...Hurts..."

"I know."

Magnus tried to keep his body from shuddering, his lips cracking open in a tiny hiss as the failed effort sent further waves of pain through his body. He fled into his thoughts as Francisco's arms tightened around him, his eyes fluttering closed as an image of a blonde girl with kind lilac eyes appeared in his subconscious.

"Bruder," Magnus croaked. "Where are the girls?"

Francisco shook his head, his teeth digging into the skin of his lip. "...I-I'm sure that they're okay..."

"...Bruder... I miss Kat," Magnus admitted quietly.

"...I know...I miss Aly, fratello..."

"I know."

Achilles was silent again.

Hungary slipped silently through the dark New York City streets, her hands clenched tightly around a black frying pan and a pistol that she had borrowed from a certain angry Swiss.

Said-Swiss was currently perched on a rooftop above her, his sea-green eyes narrowed into the scope of his rifle as he searched the city below him for any sign of the missing teens. Austria stood quietly behind Switzerland, his violet eyes anxious beneath tangled locks of chocolate-brown hair.

"Well?" Hungary grumbled into her cellphone.

Several stories above her, Austria shrugged and whispered "Nothing. We'll be moving-"

"Wait," Switzerland snapped, his sharp voice cutting through the air like the bullets that he loved to shoot, his eyes widening an odd sort of triumph. "What the hell is that?"

"Gee, I don't know, let me look," Elizaveta hissed, the hours of sleeplessness combining with worry for the children of countries that she had practically raised to create a dull, weary sort of anger.

Vash and Roderich- wisely- ignored her quip. Austria dared to inch closer to the armed Swiss, his eyebrows raised expectantly as Switzerland turned to look at him.

"...There's someone else out here with us," Vash reported tersely.

"No shit," Hungary snarled. "Half of the world is out in this hell hole, and I'm sure the other half will be here by tomorrow."

"Will you fucking listen?" Switzerland yelled. "Whoever the hell this is, they're not a country."

Hungary froze, a new wave of dread sweeping over her, soaking into her skin like ice.

"...What?" she whispered.

"It's- I don't know who the hell they are, but... Shit, they look like that Prussian bastard."

No... "Maybe Gil joined the search?"

"I just checked with Prussia," Austria reported flatly. "He said that he's still in the meeting room."

No... Oh God, no...

Her phone was ringing.

Elizaveta shuddered and raised the device to her ear, the blood draining from her face as she whispered a small greeting.

"Ksesesese~ Szia, anya! Nem lรกtsz engem?" (Hey, Mom! Did you see me?)

Andras...*

Gilbert frowned when his phone rang for the second time in under ten minutes, his scarlet eyes flickering upwards in an apologetic glance as Germany, Spain, Russia- oh hell, every country within five fucking feet shot him a venemous glare.

"It's Liz," he snapped, his lips curling into a defiant smirk that dared any unawesome bastard to say anything about the woman that he half-loved and half-hated with a passion that he usually reserved for war and beer.

The others turned stiffly back to their original course, their feet smacking soundlessly against cracked concrete as they followed England and... whoever the hell he was muttering to.

"Liz?" Prussia hissed. "Did you-"

"Gil, there's something that you should probably know."

"Is it about the kids?"

"...Ah, no?"

Prussia frowned at the question in her statement and glanced down at the gun in his hand, his muscles tensing when another set of footsteps began to shadow his own in the group of silent countries. He saw Russia and Germany tense as well, their grips tightening around their own weapons as the footsteps drew closer.

"Liz, I need to let you go," Gilbert hissed. "Someone's tailing us."

"Gil, wait that's what I wanted to-"

Gilbert snapped the phone closed and shoved it into his pocket, the barrel of his gun rising immediately until it lined up with a teenager's messy silver hair.

The teen paused and cocked his head to the side, his dark red- almost brown, really- eyes narrowed above a cocky smirk.

"Mi van, Papa? (What up, Pops?)" he drawled lazily. "I heard you needed some awesome help."

"Mein Gott," Germany groaned, the first sign of true emotion that he had shown since the disappearance of his sons. "There are two of them..."

Prussia simply stared, his hands reaching automatically to retrieve the cellphone that was now ringing in his pocket.

"Liz," he croaked. "We're going to have a long talk when all of this shit is over."

Andras "Fritz" Hedervary-Beilschmidt smirked again, oblivious to the gun that was still pointed at his skull.

Huh. Yeah, I didn't expect to introduce Fritz so soon but... Hey, it's Prussia's kid.

So, another short post... /hides in emo corner/ And, I'm sooo sorry for the delay... again. See, my family is hosting a Spanish exchange student, and I've been really busy showing him around so I hardly have any time to write. But, trust me, I will get these updates out as soon as I can! Just, um, please don't kill me in the meantime? /hopeful smile/

Also, quick note on Fritz: Andras is the Hungarian version of Andrew. King Andrew II of Hungary gave land to the Teutonic Knights in the 1200s (even if he later took it away, I kind of liked the connection between Prussia and Hungary). Of course, Andras likes to go by Fritz as a tribute to his awesome dad... Who kind of didn't know that he existed for most of his life... Since Prussia isn't a country anymore, Fritz is actually the representation of Budapest, which he believes to be the most awesome capital on the planet. And... That's all I have to say about him for right now~

So... Like it? Hate it? Wanna wring my neck or yell Pasta? Review and let me know!