Chapter 4

August 12, 2011

Spain was many things, but an early-riser was not one of them. If given his way, his daily schedule would go along the lines of sleep, wake up, have lunch, try to get Romano to cheer up for a change, have a drink, have dinner, and go to bed. Many people, most notably his boss, did not agree with this dream schedule, and did what they could to make him do unpleasant things like wake up before two in the afternoon.

Today, it sounded as if Portugal was in on that conspiracy as well. Spain's brother was pounding away at his front door and yelling something about... England? His cellphone? Spain wasn't entirely sure. He yawned and rolled over, turning his mind to more pleasant things. He was having such a lovely dream about churros...

It seemed that Portugal was done yelling. That was making it much easier to go back to sleep. Back to dreaming about wonderful things, like tomatoes or -

The phone on Spain's bedside table began ringing. This was even harder to ignore than Portugal's shouts, but Spain was willing to do his best. After half a dozen rings though, it became clear that the caller was not going to hang up. Seeing no other way to get back to relaxing, Spain picked up.

"Hola!" said Spain, rubbing his eyes. "Can I help yo -"

"OH MY GOD, SPAIN YOU ASS, WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING IN BED? WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?"

"Good morning, Romano!" said Spain cheerfully, holding the phone at arm's length, while rubbing his ear.

"Don't 'good morning' me! It's been a terrible morning! The stupid potato bastard won't leave my house."

"What? Why is Germany at your house? Doesn't Italy usually go to visit him?"

There was an odd noise from Romano's end. It took Spain several seconds to realize that he was swallowing hard. Was... was Romano really trying to hold back...?

"Listen, stupid Spain," said Romano. The boy's voice was hoarse, and he seemed to be unable to continue until he'd taken several deep breaths. When he did speak again, his words came so slowly and with such restraint that Spain was shocked. "Stupid Spain, you need to tell me," said Romano. "Please, please, tell me Italy is staying at your place. Please."

What? Where was this coming from? And why was Spain feeling deja-vu? "Why would Italy be at my place, Romano? Was he planning to visit?"

All was quiet on Romano's end, though Spain could have sworn he heard the quietest muttering of "Merda!" possible. Finally, "We can't find him."

"'We'?"

"The potato-loving bastard and myself." Romano's voice was rough again. There was a pause, as he undoubtedly struggled to regain his composure. "Not that that stupid Germany as been any good for much," he went on, sounding more like his usual self. "He's sitting and moping and being useless! I need someone to actually help me find my idiot brother, so you're coming over to give me a hand!"

"Oh, okay," said Spain, yawning. "Give me a minute and I'll -"

"Now, dammit! You're not falling back to sleep! I've already sent my boys to your place to pick you up."

Spain scratched the back of his head. "You really didn't have to -"

"Shut up. Yes I did."

A knock on the door told Spain that his escort had already arrived. He wondered how they got there so quickly. Hadn't Romano only just decided to send them?

Oh well. He leaned out the window and waved to the men, milling around the snazzy car. "Be out in a second!" he called.

Looking outside stirred something in his mind. Ah yes! Portugal had stopped by while he'd been sleeping! Now that he was properly awake, Spain felt terrible about ignoring his brother. He snatched his cellphone off of the bedside table and punched in Portugal's number as he headed for the door. It was only fair to call the nation up and apologize.

The phone was still ringing as Spain stepped outside and began to follow his escort to the awaiting car. This normally wouldn't have gotten Spain's notice in the slightest. This time, though, something bothered him.

He could hear Portugal's ring tone. And it was very close.

Signaling to Romano's boys that he'd be right over, Spain took a quick detour in the direction the ring tone was coming from. He quickly found that the sound was coming from a bush located right under his bedroom window. He pushed some of the foliage aside and yes, there was Portugal's cellphone. Lying next to it was Portugal's wallet which, a brief search revealed, still had plenty of money and all of Portugal's IDs in it

Spain picked up both of those items and stared at them, perplexed. Why in the world would his brother hide his stuff in Spain's bushes? Was he so angry over being ignored that he forgot them?

The sound of the car horn honking reminded Spain that he had to get going. Romano needed him to help find Italy, so help him he would!

He slipped Portugal's things in his pocket as he headed for the car. He'd run into his brother soon enough, and could return them when he did.

Finland nervously twisted the phone cord as the nation on the other end ranted away. "Yes, yes," he said, when the other nation paused for breath. "I'm sure you did put a lot of time and effort into getting that milk, Ireland. But all I want to know is when England's sending Sealand home. It's been an entire day without any notice -"

"Sealand isn't here," Ireland gruffly interrupted. "I told you that. Weren't you listening?"

"Erm, yes," said Finland, deciding not to mention that it was nearly impossible for anyone outside of the UK family to decipher Ireland, when he really got going. "I just wanted to make sure I heard you right."

From the other side of the living room, Sweden looked grim. Well, more grim than usual. "He kn'w wh're they w'nt?" he grunted.

Finland nodded, acknowledging the question, and turned his attention back to Ireland. "Ireland, listen. I - yes, you told me about the milk - I need to know if England gave any indication as to when he'd be bringing Sealand back."

"Of course he didn't! That's the point of this stupid joke they're all playing on me! And when I find them -"

"Ireland," said Finland firmly, before the nation had a chance to go off on another tangent. "Doesn't it strike you as odd that your brothers have gone for an entire day without returning home?"

"Now that you mention it..." Ireland muttered. "I've never had them try this sort of a trick before. But no, it's not the strangest thing they've ever done."

Finland rubbed his forehead with his free hand. "Thank you, Ireland. When England comes back, tell him to get in touch with me. Promise?"

"Sure, sure."

"This is not good," Finland groaned, after Ireland hung up. "Whatever he says, I don't think England could put up with keeping Sealand around for a full day."

"So, wh't're you going to try n'xt?"

"Try to get a hold of England directly, I guess."

Finland punched in the number for England's cell phone, his fingers shaking slightly. His nerves weren't so steady at the best of times, especially when he couldn't see a reason for something bad to be happening. He tried to distract himself by focusing on the ringing. Pick up. Pick up. Please, don't go to voice mail...

There was a click as someone picked up on the other end, and Finland's heart soured. "England! Is that you?" he cried.

"No, it's Ireland," a familiar voice replied. "If you had more to say, couldn't you have said it while we were talking, a few minutes ago?"

"Ireland? What? I...I don't..." Finland glanced hopelessly at Sweden, whose eyebrows were draw together in concern. "Why do you have England's cell phone?"

"I don't. I heard it ringing under the couch, along with all of my other brothers' things. Stupid idiots! Must be more of their trick! When I find them, I swear I'll -"

Finland abruptly hung up, too upset to bother with Ireland's next rant.

"Still n'thing?" asked Sweden, watching Finland put the phone back in the cradle.

"No! I have no idea what to do now! Where did England go? Where did Sealand go?"

"Any'ne else to c'll?"

Finland scratched the back of his head, considering the question. "I'm not sure. Do we know anyone who is regularly in touch with England?"

"Th're's Norway an' his tr'lls."

"Good idea!"

As Finland dialed Norway's number, Sweden glanced out the kitchen window. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining and a light breeze blowing, but all Sweden could think of was how Sealeand would love to be chasing Hanatamago around the lawn, if he were home.

Sweden gave a low growl, deep in his throat. If this was all some joke England was playing, he had better watch out for his vital regions. Sweden would remind him precisely why the Nordics were so feared in their viking days. He'd bring up his old berserker rage and - that bush seemed to be twitching more than the gentle breeze should be making it.

"M'wife," called Sweden, not taking his eyes off of the bush. "c'mere and look."

"In a minute, Sweden," said Finland, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. "And don't call me your wife. What?" he said, going back to his conversation with Norway. "No, Sweden was just saying something. You're quite sure about that, though? Alright, please do. Thanks!"

"C'mere," Sweden repeated, as Finland hung up. "Th're's someone outsi - AUGH!"

"Sweden!" Finland shouted, as his friend fell to the ground. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that something made a noise, like the breaking of glass. He was far more focused on Sweden though, who was now sitting up, gasping for breath, and tugging at something stuck in his chest.

"'Sa...'sa tranquilizer..." Sweden managed to choke out, examining the small dart in his hand. Finland realized that someone shot it through the window and he didn't know who and thus he had no idea what to do and what was this?

A second later, everything broke into a million pieces.

The window broke as well, shattered as a figure dressed in black smashed through. In the back and front of the house, the sound of splintering wood told Finland that the doors were suffering similar fates. Countless footsteps told him that there were more people breaking in. If something wasn't done, he and Sweden were going to be surrounded.

He darted to the right, threw open a draw, and grabbed a knife. He wished he had a chance to grab one of his guns as well, but he had a strong hunch the people rushing in weren't going to give him that chance. Forcing his mind away from something he couldn't get, he stabbed at the person who just jumped through the window. They dodged to the side, and he only managed to get their uniform.

Sweden was roaring like a bear, smashing his fists against whatever was within reach. Finland stabbed at whoever was closest, but the people he was fighting were unusually good at dodging out of the way. Some part of him wondered how ordinary humans were so agile. They were normal humans, weren't they?

And then, he felt a dozen or so pinpricks hit his back. And everything else became irrelevant.

He turned to stab at his assailants, but it was too late. Whatever it was they were using in their darts, it was amazingly powerful. To drug a nation, and so quickly!

Finland knelt on the kitchen floor. He had no choice. It was either that, or fall over. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sweden struggling to stay on his feet. More darts were stuck into his back and arms, and only now was he slowing down.

Who were these people? Why were they in his house? Finland had no answers. The only thing that comforted him, in his last moments of consciousness, was that Peter wasn't there. He, at least, wouldn't be found by these people.

August 13, 2011

Switzerland frowned as he stared at the signs announcing the arrival and departure times of the various trains. This was the part of vacations that he hated the most. He also hated missing work, but that wasn't so bad since he knew Liechtenstein enjoyed the time off.

Speaking of Liechtenstein, he felt his little sister's hand wrap around his, as she stood next to him. "How much time do we have?" she asked.

"The next train out of Calancatal is in fifteen minutes. Is there anything you need to take care of, before we board?"

"Oh…um…" Liechtenstein blushed and glanced in the direction of the station's bathroom.

Switzerland nodded. "Go ahead. I'll be waiting outside, when you're done."

"Thank you very much! I'll be right back," she said, heading for the bathroom door. "Excuse me!" she added, darting around a businesswoman with a large suitcase, who was also heading for the ladies' room.

"That's quite alright," the woman said, slowing to let Liechtenstein enter ahead of her.

As the woman walked into the restroom, no one noticed her slipping a small bottle and a cloth out of her pocket.

Norway flipped open his cell phone for the fifth time in that hour. No messages. By this point, he wasn't surprised. He'd begun to suspect something was amiss, but now he knew.

His brothers were gone.

It was yesterday that he received a call from a clearly upset Finland, asking if he'd heard anything from England. At the time, he'd been perplexed. Where would England be that Finland couldn't reach him directly? It was an age of cell phones and internet, and the Nations had to be easily accessible. Even Sealand ought to have something so his "parents" could reach him.

Something about the matter chewed away at his mind, refusing to give him peace. It wasn't until he recalled the incident a year ago, when Prussia mysteriously vanished off the face of the Earth, that he realized how familiar the situation was. England was no Prussia though. His people lived on. There was no reason for him to disappear naturally. Which left his disappearance through some other reason...

And then it occurred to him that if England and Sealand couldn't be found, perhaps that might be the case with other Nations.

He called Denmark first, and tried his hardest to not panic at the sound of his brother's voicemail. There was no more success in contacting Iceland, which was when he began to feel chilled. As much as Iceland denied seeing Norway as his "real" brother, he always just "happened" to be around for phone calls or visits. If it was one Nation Norway could always reach it was Iceland. To keep himself from completely panicking, Norway tried calling Finland and Sweden again. He received no response.

He had only spoken to them ten minutes ago.

And thus he spent the rest of yesterday in a frantic cycle of dialing numbers and hearing the same recorded words, one after another.

"This is Iceland. Leave your name and number at the beep."

"You missed my awesome self! If you want to talk to me, Denmark, just leave a message and I'll get back as soon as I'm home!"

"Finland here! Sorry I missed you -"

"Th's is Sweden. Y'ur call -"

"- at the beep."

"- talk to me -"

"- Finland -"

" - Sweden -"

Somewhere in there, he realized if he was the last Nordic country, he had to get out and do something.

So now, he was deep in the nearest forest. Sprites and spirits fluttered around him. They were the ones closest, who he managed to reach after calling all night.

"You need to leave my house for a bit," he said. "Go to England's house and find the Fair Folk that live there. Ask them if they know anything about where he went. Then, find me." Assuming I can still be found, he mentally added, watching them fly away.

The sound of branches snapping brought him back to reality. There were others around him. They were good at moving undetected. Very good. And experts at tracking, if they found him all the way out there.

He had to keep moving. That was the only way out. Keep moving, and hope to lose them. He had to hold out long enough to find out what his sprites could learn.

He had to.

He had to.

Liechtenstein hummed as she ran her hands under the restroom faucet. It looked like she and Switzerland were going to make their train with plenty of time. That was great news. She knew how much her bruder liked things being orderly.

She heard the sound of footsteps behind her, and caught a glimpse of someone in the mirror in front of her. The businesswoman from before? Was Liechtenstein in her way? "Excuse me," the nation politely began, "can I help you wi -"

Before another would could be said, the woman shoved Liechtenstein against the wall with one hand, clamping a strange-smelling cloth over her mouth with the other.

She was able to give one short, terrified shriek, before passing out.

He knew they had to be the ones who took his brothers. They were professionals, clearly. He'd done everything he could think of, and he still was unable to shake them. He could see them being able to pick off the other Nordics, especially if they'd caught them each alone.

"Where are they?" he demanded, as the footsteps drew closer and closer. No sense in playing stupid, not when they were closing in. "Tell me what you've done with my brothers!"

There was no answer.

Norway steeled himself for a fight. He cursed himself for bringing no weapons with him. Even if he had brought something, he doubted it would give him the upper hand for long. Not when it was only him against so many.

The only consoling thought Norway had, as they closed in on him, was that with any luck, he'd be with the others soon enough.

Switzerland checked his watch and frowned. Five minutes until their train left, and Liechtenstein still hadn't come out of the bathroom. It wasn't like her to be late. Did something happen in there?

A woman in business attire came out of the bathroom, panting slightly and looking frightened. As she passed by, Switzerland caught her by the arm. "You were in the bathroom just now, right?"

"Y-yes!" said the woman, pulling her arm out of his grip.

"Did you see my sister in there? She went in about fifteen minutes ago, and our train is leaving soon."

"Your sister?" The woman's eyebrows drew together. "Is she blonde, with her hair cut like yours? And a hair ribbon?"

"Yes! Did something happen to her?"

"Come with me," said the woman anxiously, urging Switzerland towards the woman's room. "If you're her brother, you need to check on her!"

Switzerland's heart skipped. Was Liechtenstein hurt? "What happened to her?! Did she get hurt? She -" She was a nation. It was nearly impossible to hurt her. That was what he wanted to say. But he couldn't blurt that out in a train station full of ordinary people, so he just followed the woman.

"I don't know what happened!" the woman replied. "When I came out of the stall, she was washing her hands. Then, suddenly, she collapsed! I wasn't sure what - sir!"

Switzerland had begun racing for the women's room as quickly as he could. She collapsed. Collapsed. Why would she do that? An economic downturn? A terrorist attack?! No, there'd be some word on that, wouldn't there? Anyway, who would hurt her?

"Lich - Lili!" he shouted, bursting through the bathroom door. The place looked empty, but she had to be somewhere in there. "Lilli, where are you?!"

"You can call her 'Liechtenstein', if you want to." The woman's voice drifted in from behind him, slow and sardonic.

Switzerland just had enough time to register the implications of that statement before something thin and light stabbed him in the back of the neck. He brushed the area, turning on his heel, and pulled out a tranquilizer dart. The woman stood in front of the door, grinning evilly and holding some unrecognizable model of gun at the ready.

Switzerland didn't care about any of that.

"WHERE IS SHE?" he screamed. Without waiting for a reply, he leaped at her. Catching her by surprise, he shoved her sidewise. Her head hit the sink with a satisfying crack, smashing the porcelain.

She staggered to her feet, one hand pressed to the side of her face to slow the blood flow. Some part of Switzerland knew that wasn't right, that humans couldn't possibly take a blow like that and still stand, but his vision was blurring and his body was feeling heavy. He opened his mouth to once again demand to know where Liechtenstein was, because that was the most important thing of all, but it was too -

He was only just able to register a thud, as he fell to the ground. The last thing he saw, before he went unconscious, was the woman standing over him.

In Dublin, a strange conversation was taking place. No words were spoken, at least none audible to human ears. The conversationalists were invisible to most. One half of the party wasn't even remotely human in shape and had traveled over the ocean to reach their destination.

"Are you sure? Not for at least a day?"

"Yes! He's very worried, but won't admit it. He won't leave that house!"

They were frantic. Such a thing hadn't happened for as long as they could remember.

"You can't feel Your One? Or any of His brothers?"

"No. The One whose house we're in is the only One left."

"It is the same in our part of the world. Our One remains, but His brothers are nowhere to be found."

"Help us find Our One, please! I'm sure if you do, He will help you in return!"

"It will be difficult. We can only journey as far from home as we have through the will of Our One. If we receive another command from Him, perhaps it would be possible…"

The trills and jingles of their strange tongues died down. The visitors began to shake and chatter.

"Gone, gone, where is he?!"

"Who?!"

"Our One! Our One! Oh, He is vanished! We cannot find Him! It is the same as Your One, and without Him we cannot stay!"

They were fading away, their words dying.

"Find Him! Find Him! Find Your One and Our One, before they are lost forever!"

As the sprites vanished from sight, the fairies fluttered anxiously. Without Their One's help, it was nearly impossible to search outside of the homes of Himself and His brothers. But that would not stop them from scouring the land for any of Them. Of that, they could all be certain.

Had anyone bothered to pay attention, they would have noticed a well-dressed couple hurrying from a train station in Calancatal, dragging rather large wheeled suitcases behind them. But of course, no one did pay them any mind. They were clearly ordinary, respectable folks, no doubt running behind for some planned event.

In fact, of the countless people there, only one directly spoke to them.

"Do you need a hand?" the man asked, as he watched the couple struggling to shove their cumbersome suitcases in the trunk of their car.

The couple glanced at one another. "You're very kind," the well-dressed woman finally said, "But we really ought to handle these ourselves."

"I see. Valuable cargo?"

"Something like that, yes. But thank you for your offer, Mr…?"

" Daniel, ma'am. Daniel Friedli. And think nothing of it. It's my sworn duty to look out for Switzerland and all of his people, fiercely and faithfully and so on."

The well-dressed man raised his eyebrows. "You're a member of the Swiss Guard?"

"I am! And…" he glanced at his watch, "I don't want to be rude, but I need to be going. If you're sure you don't need any help?"

"Not at all." The woman smiled graciously. "We would hate to make you late."

"Have a safe journey, sir, ma'am," said Daniel, heading off for his car. "Oh, and ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"Did you get hurt? Forgive me, but you look a little black and blue around your left eye."

The woman ran her fingers along that side of her face and winced. "So it is. That must have been from when I bumped it, getting off of the train. Thank you for your concern. I'll be sure to put ice on it as soon as possible."

Daniel Friedle smiled, nodded, and once again set off on his way.

When he was out of sight, the couple managed to shove the suitcases into the trunk. They didn't say a word to each other, until they were safely inside the car.

"Of course, we would run into one of the Swiss Guard here," the man muttered.

"He didn't catch us, and that's all that matters," said the woman. "Besides, if you had made it to our meeting point on time, we could have left sooner. And I might not have had half of my face smashed open."

"It's hardly noticeable now, though," the man pointed out.

"True. The new research has given us some useful tools, hasn't it?" The woman smiled, starting up the ignition. "Contact the HCS and tell them we've completed the mission. I'm getting us out of here, before our luggage wakes up."

A/N - What's this? An update? What are these insane shenanigans?

Um, yeah. Not a ton to say here. Sorry this took so long. Hopefully it was worth the wait. If it is (or heck, if it isn't) review and let me know! :D And give all thoughts, opinions, criticism, etc. I really want to know what you guys think, or how it can be improved.