Chapter Fifteen

The morning quietude of a spacious home in Malmo, Sweden was shattered by an obnoxious ringtone bursting forth from a small phone of the Finnish design. The effect was instantaneous, and the house erupted into a confusing disarray of shouting, banging, and animal sounds. Finland leapt out of his bed dashed through the house and towards the phone, ignoring the shouts deriving from a certain Icelander to turn off the sound and let him sleep. He shooed Hanatamago and out of the narrow hallway and ran into the kitchen, snatching his phone from the counter in one quick swipe. Despite the early hour in which he had called, the Fin smiled when he glimpsed Norway's caller ID flashing on the dimly lit screen. He placed the phone to his ear and greeted the Norwegian warmly. "Hey Norway! How's Mathias been?" Finland's smile prompted fell when he heard the man's shaky voice on the other line.

"M-Mathias remembered s-stuff." Finland's mouth twisted into a concerned frown.

"That's great Norway! What's so bad—"

"N-No you d-don't understand!" Norway's voice was steadily growing higher and more tremulous. "Denmark r-remembered all the b-bad stuff. T-The wars, the f-fights, t-the union. H-He hates us F-Finland. He h-hates m-me." The Norwegian broke off as sobs wracked his thin frame. The harsh choking sounds carried through the phone and echoed through the waking home. Finland's face paled and he gasped in horror and shock. A lone tear trailed along his cheek as he made plans for departure.

"Don't worry Norway. We're on our way." The Fin hung up the phone and composed himself, readying to go talk to the two nations besides himself present in the household. He had a long day of driving to prepare for, not to mention a lot of explaining to do on his part.

Norway's hands trembled as he placed the phone on the carpeted floor a few inches from where he sat. He hadn't had the strength to pick himself from the carpet to pursue the furious Dane and instead had opted to weakly dial Finland's phone number. Now that the call was over Norway allowed his resolve to collapse and he once again dissolved into a helpless pile of misery. This is all my fault. If I had tried harder, made him listen to me, then maybe…

Norway groaned and buried his head in his hands as he sank further into a pit of despair. Tears dripped through his fingers and stained his pants, leaving noticeable dark splotches wherever they landed.

The furious pounding of a fist on the door jolted the Norwegian out of his anguished state. He scrambled frantically towards the door, stopping briefly in front of a mirror to fix his bangs to cover his red and swollen eyes. Norway slammed open the door and barely dodged a fist as it swung towards the wood to continue its abuse. The fist's owner yelped in surprise and uttered a hasty apology before rushing into the living room. The Finnish man's two companions followed, one with a pitiful gaze and the taller one bearing a sympathetic expression. Norway shut the door with thin lips and a strained smile. He then followed the three into the room, unable to lift his eyes from the tear saturated carpet. "Norway… it's ok. We're here to help." The Norwegian blinked in the direction of his younger brother. Sweden nodded sharply in concurrence and placed a comforting hand on the shorter man's shoulder.

"We're g'nna spl't up 'nd find h'm. H' won't b' far." Finland bounced up behind the tall Swede and directed a comforting grin at Norway.

"Yeah! We'll tell him about all the good things he's done, so he doesn't just know about the bad." Norway hummed in agreement and turned to exit the room but was halted when Finland spoke again while sheepishly rubbing his neck. "But first, do you think you could fill us in, with more detail? Your phone call was kind of… obscure."

The Norwegian blushed and mumbled something about not thinking clearly. He exhaled heavily, heaving a pitiful sigh and mentally readied himself to recount the most despondent ten minutes of his life. "Denmark had been locked in his room the whole day so I went up to check on him. He came out after I had knocked on the door a few times and told me he remembered being a country. At first I was happy, but then—"

The Norwegian's voice wavered and he bowed his head so the other nations couldn't see the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. He drew in numerous rapid breaths to compose himself and carried on with his explantation. "—then he started talking about war, the union, and being betrayed and abandoned. H-He told me to stay away and n-never come near him a-again. Then h-he walked o-out." Norwegian blinked furiously to clear the water from his vision and regulated his breathing.

Iceland was the first the break the thickening silence. A determined glint entered his violet eyes as he spoke with calculated resolve. "Like Sweden said, he couldn't have gotten far." He glanced around to make sure he had caught everyone's attention before continuing on. "I'll head west and search the closest towns in that direction. Finland, can you and Sweden drive south? It's possible he took refuge by the beaches. Norway can go north, the only thing east are the islands and there is no way Denmark would think about walking across the bridges. He would be to vulnerable."

Finland and Sweden nodded in sync, eyes alight with unrivaled tenacity as the strode towards their assigned car. Norway was hot on their heels, determined to fix the problem he had caused. Iceland exited the room a few paces behind, calling to Mr. Puffin for company.

The rapidly fading daylight did little to distract Norway from his task of finding the missing Dane. He had driven through town after town, and each yielded no results. The Norwegian had just driven into Copenhagen when he had a sudden epiphany. Denmark wasn't stupid enough to wander around the country with no clue of his whereabouts. No, he would go somewhere familiar, somewhere he'd been before.

With newfound resilience he sped further north in the direction of Tivoli Gardens. The last of the visitors were trickling out one by one, exhaustedly staggering towards the parking lot. Norway watched from his car as the park guards showed the last guest out and closed the gates. He slumped sullenly in his seat as he realized only a fool would be willingly trapped in an amusement park all night.

On top of his failed search of the park, the sun had almost set and Norway was running out of time. He drove aimlessly around the city, parking the car briefly in order to check his phone. The lack of calls or texts signified the other nations were having just as bad of luck, if not worse. The Norwegian frustratedly slammed his hands on the steering wheel and dug his nails into the black leather. There was no where else Denmark would go! There was no where else they had visited— wait.

The mermaid statue.

Norway slammed the acceleration and the car jumped forward, hurtling through the empty streets at a speed that was far above the limit. He pulled into an empty parking space and sprinted up the path. Winded quickly, Norway slowed to a jog as his breaths became more erratic and unsteady. Whether it was from the long distance or fear of not finding Denmark, he didn't know.

After ten minutes of a brisk walk Norway glimpsed the head of the statue over the horizon. He neared the rock where the metal figure rested, and the Norwegian felt his heart plummet. He frantically scanned the area for the tall nation, but to no avail there was no sign of bright blue eyes or a black trench coat.

Norway was just about ready to surrender and head home when out of the corner of his eye he noticed the sun's rays glinting off of an object not ten feet away. He hesitantly approached the spot only to find that the thing creating the glint was not an object, but hair.

Blonde hair.

I'm too tired to give any excuses for why this was late, honestly I was just lazy and lacked motivation. Sorry!

BLOOPERS:

"We're g'nna spl't up 'nd look f'r clues." Sweden pointed towards Finland and then gestured to himself. " Daphne 'nd I 're g'nna go s''th." Sweden, now dubbed Fred, followed Daphne out the door.

"Velma, you go west. I'll head north." Velma nodded and called Mr. Puffin, nodding to Norway as he left. Norway sighed and rubbed his hands together. Now for the hardest task, finding shaggy.

The minute I wrote Sweden saying that they were going to split up I immediately thought of Scooby Doo. If you don't know what that is then you've never had a childhood. I dunno, maybe it's just a silly American thing. The only one of the gang left was Scooby himself and there was no way I could see Norway as playing him.