Hello all my wonderful watchers of this here story~! I have been enjoying my first college semester so far (except for this one time...) but I digress back to this. I felt like I should at least update one of my stories so it was known that I hadn't forgotten about you guys XD But never to fear! Turn Back the Hands of Time shall be updated as the semester is almost over. (next week is finals for me :3)

Now on with the story with one of those pesky disclaimers! (Yes, this one is more Norway-centric) But if y'all find any grammatical/ spelling errors let me know!

Norway: Be happy that Sterling doesn't own Hetalia. If she did *Shudders* I don't even want to think about it

Denmark didn't remember much after he looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw his father looking back at him. He had cried himself to sleep, curled up against the tree that had made him fall and twist his ankle. The adolescent was understandably upset and in a vulnerable position due to the untimely death of his father. He knew that there wasn't much that he could do to reverse that. But, it didn't stop the fact that he wanted to be lied to. He wanted to be told that it was okay, and everything that had just happened was a terrible nightmare. Denmark wanted to wake up the next morning to Sweden kicking him in the ribs for insulting him in his sleep. To Norway and Scandia actually getting along due to their mutual hatred for waking up. And he just wanted to be able to spend time with his family.

But he didn't have one of those anymore, now did he?

_Hetalia_

Norway was still in his family's home. He couldn't move. Grief was too overwhelming and he found himself missing his father every second that he was alone. It was too much. Norway forced himself to get up and stumbled out of the house.

The same man who had disowned him, hated him, and had hurt him was gone. The adolescent had expected to feel happiness, relief. But the truth was, that very same man was his father. And while they had failed to get along in recent years Norway couldn't help but remember the times that they had. All the times that he had gone out to the empty field at night with his father to learn the constellations- and have an excuse for being up late at night when his brothers didn't. When he and his father had an unspoken mutual hatred for mornings and would glare at Denmark and Sweden for being too happy about waking up. Or when Scandia had taught Nor how to fish, not just putting a line in water, but tracking the migratory patterns of fish and catching more than Denmark or Sweden could spear in an entire day. Norway whimpered.

His emotional pain gradually seeped throughout his entire body, filling him with misery. When he had his fight with his father he didn't want him to die. But that was what he wished, wasn't it? It really was his fault, and there was nothing he could do to reverse it. The only thing that was redeeming of his pain was the fact that his father's killer had died with him.

Before Norway could realize it he had almost walked directly into his mentor's door. His tired frame jolting every so often from hiccups that were a result of his crying. Yes he had been crying, and yet that very fact had been hidden to Norway who had been too lost in thought to realize it. Numbly the teen pushed the door opened and stepped into the home he was always welcomed into. Glassy blue eyes looked around for his mentor and his subconscious maternal figure. He wanted a mother right now, but it looked like he couldn't even have that luxury. The boy felt like he was going to start crying again in his emotionally fragile state, but he held his tears at bay.

He didn't stand alone in the doorway for long. However when he was greeted it wasn't his mentor, but his older brother. Sweden looked terrible, his face pale and yet flushed from crying and fever. He looked to be in no shape to care for his younger brother, but Norway didn't care. The younger of the two rushed over to his brother and proceeded to punch him in the face. Sweden, who wasn't expecting that reaction, stumbled back a few steps hoarsely cursing Norway through a bloody nose.

It was enough to warrant the appearance of Norway's mentor. The middle-aged woman went to Sweden first, much to his younger brother's annoyance, and used magic to stem the bleeding. "Go get cleaned up and try to get some rest." Saga told her charge after making sure his nose wasn't broken. "You're already sick enough as it is, you don't need to add exhaustion to the list." Numbly Sweden nodded in agreement, glared at Norway, and left to wash the blood off. Saga then turned on Norway, "What was that about?"

Norway looked away in shame. Truthfully he didn't know what came over him, it might have been jealousy for the fact that Sweden had gotten attention from his mentor. Last Norway checked Sweden wasn't the one learning magic. Norway proceeded to whimper pathetically before he began crying again at his mentor's stern tone; this was something that was new to him. He never cried when she yelled at him, but for some reason it hurt more then ever. Saga was taken aback by her youngest charge's behavior; it wasn't like him to burst into tears at the drop of the hat, but grief was too overwhelming for the adolescent.

He clung to his mentor like the scared child he was as sobs wracked his pitiful frame. Norway found himself hating his father even more now that he was gone. How could he leave him and his brothers like this?! It wasn't fair! He would do anything to have him back, just for a second chance to have a life as a normal family. Maybe, just maybe, he could try to fix his relationship with his father and they could be as close as they once were. He could remember a time not too long ago where Scandia would do anything to make sure his sons were happy, but that had all changed so suddenly and Lukas didn't know what had happened. It had started even before his accident; Scandia had become increasingly distant towards his sons, almost afraid of them even. But, at the same time, Norway saw his father wanting to be a family. It almost appeared as though Scandia was suffering some unknown torture the last few years of his life and the thought scared Norway. As much as the two had hated each other Norway had still retained the childish thought that his father was invincible. Something that had been proven wrong to him at Lindisfarne.

After what seemed like hours of crying Norway finally felt exhausted. His mentor had stayed with him the entire time, worrying over her charge and trying not to allow her maternal instincts to get the better of her. She had to remember that he wasn't her son, but her apprentice, even though the lines had become blurred in the last thirteen years of her life. "Lukas?"

"Huh?" Came the miserable response.

"You need to lie down, you can't change anything. He's gone, but you need to worry about yourself. The both of you might not have gotten along, but you were still his son and he wouldn't want you to be this upset over his death." Saga knew those weren't the words that Norway wanted to hear, but she'd rather tell him the truth then help him deny his father's death. The small teen that clung desperately to her let out a strangled sob, but she expected no less from him. It was going to be hard dealing with them now that Scandia was gone.