C H A P T E R T W O

• ENGLAND }} arthur •

Oh, how strange it was to leave from a place one day and return the next, feeling like a stranger just because of your absence.

This place had been my home for the past three-and-a-half months and now it was like a ghost town, so haunted with memories. I had been an intruder, walking down the sidewalks with my hands in my pockets and a scarf wrapped around my neck.

Nonchalant.

I, the very description of the word, could feel that theme throughout the day.

I twiddled the pen in my hand and tapped the backside quietly against my note-taking paper that currently resembled the tundra, it was so empty. All around me my co-workers watched the speaker with that same dull look in their eyes. Not many were happy to be here, but they did their part and argued with everything all the same.

Something's poking me in the stomach; I turned to see a blond man wiggling his eyes obscenely and making vulgar hand gestures.

"What do you want, France?" I asked coldly.

He chuckled. "Now, now, Arthur, why so icy? I only wanted to say hello, of course."

"All said and done." I turned back to the debate on hand. It seemed all too important to pay attention, now.

France made a scoffing noise beside me. "So uptight, as always, Angleterre. Maybe I can help loosen your muscles?"

I raised my pen in defense. "Touch me, and I'll rip your arms out of your sockets." I said in a dignified voice.

"England, it is surprising to have no word from you. Do you have any input?"

I froze, swallowing panic before looking up at the nation who was addressing me. Bulky and all business, he wasn't one of my favorites, but at least he was more civilized than the rest.

"I'm afraid not, Germany. None of these ideas have caught my eye." I said, trying to keep my gaze steady on him and no one else. Maybe they wouldn't catch my bluff.

"Do you have any ideas yourself?" He asked.

I paused, then answered truthfully. "No, I don't."

Nobody said anything for a while, so I gave a disdainful sniff and turned back to my notes. They carried on the conversation, but I think Germany kept shooting looks at me to see if I was paying attention.

A loud crashing sound filled the air and I started; my head shot up to see everyone with their gazes pointed in confusion at a blank spot in their circle of nations. Out of habit I pinched my nose as a man with a flyaway hair popped up over the side of the desk, glasses hanging off one ear. He straightened them and let out an over-enthusiastic chuckle, jumping to his feet and righting the chair.

"Ahha, sorry about that! I'm okay." He announced.

Germany and a few others glanced at each other, before the big bloke announced a recess.

I scooted away from my chair and exited as quickly as I could. I got out before most of the others and was making my way down the hallway, trying to find my way back out of this hotel we were hosting the meeting in. I exchanged a few polite genialities with various countries, not really paying attention to whom: Finland, Italy, Belgium, Taiwan. I grappled with their names.

I could see the doors ahead, in the lobby. I was almost out. I could escape for another few weeks without suspicion. After today, I'd be looking at eight months of me leading a less-complicated life.

Right now, though, I found myself looking at the complication.

Alfred caught me on the arm and swung me around gently, a friendly smile on his face. "Hey, England, what's up?"

I pulled away a bit and straightened my coat. "Why do you ask that? Would you like me to respond with what is actually above me?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets and just shrugged, looking a bit disappointed. When he spoke I could hear it in his voice. "I don't know. It's just something you ask to people. A greeting. Like 'cheerio'."

I didn't have a response to that, so I just bit the inside of my cheek and looked past his shoulder at a clump of plants in the corner of the lobby.

"Are you okay?"

It slipped out of my mouth quietly and quickly, so quick I wanted to reel it back in. It wasn't something I would normally ask, especially not in public. My stomach clenched and I cringed inwardly.

Alfred studied me, and then gave me a thumbs up. "Yep. All's good." He grinned a bit.

"Well, be more careful next time. I know I've told you before not to lean on your chair." I said sharply.

I tried not to look at his hurt face as I brushed past him, crossing the room in a few quick strides. It was getting worse. I thought I could go through the day without feeling this tug at my insides, this nauseous wave rolling over me.

I pushed the door open and darted to the corner before breaking into a run. I could feel myself shuddering in my skin and I tried to pull myself away from the pain, tried to keep my mind off of it and onto anything else. I was grabbing at whatever I could with my thoughts – no! Not Alfred. I flinched.

It was hard to describe, really. The scents were coming at me stronger now; the sounds, quicker and louder; the thoughts, fleeting and hard to pick apart from others.

Overwhelming.

Somebody opened the door of a liquor store in front of me and I swerved around before stumbling, my legs bending and reshaping themselves to a form where they no longer supported my frame upright. I heard a soft gasp of surprise behind me, but that's all I really remember. A feeling of panic, not only from my human-conscious but also my wolf-conscious mind, washed over me and I tried to scramble away, on my hands and knees.

Suddenly I was more lupine than human.

As my bones broke themselves to pieces I tried to keep my thoughts together. Easier said than done, I believe.

Five words come at me first: I wasn't supposed to shift.

A pale-coated creature on two legs was staring at me, holding something shiny and translucent in its paw. Its pelt was hanging around it like a blanket of snow against trees.

Dangerous. Human.

No, not human. It didn't smell whole. It smelled like the other one.

I backed away. It stepped closer. I elicited a low growl: I meant business. Don't come closer.

The creature let out a growl of its own, a rolling one, like the sound of deer against the ground.

Dangerous.

Hackles raised, I backed away further. Muscles tightened, ears pinned against head, fur bristling. They were warning signs. Why did it come closer, then?

Danger.

I snarled.

Danger.

It smelled of the snow.

•••

When I opened my eyes, I couldn't see the dust particles in the air.

Maybe that was because it was pitch black, but I hoped it was because I was human.

I grasped my hands together – yes, hands! – and closed my eyes, even if it was dark. As a human, my senses were diffused greatly, but I could still smell the wolf on me and in the air if I thought about it hard enough. I didn't want that. I held my hands against my mouth and breathed heat onto them, enjoying the feeling that tingled through them. It was chilly in here so I felt firmly in my skin; it eased the weary twinge in my gut and gave me enough shivers to feel my limbs.

Danger.

This was it, wasn't it? Where was I being held? Area 51, probably. I was in damned America, found out by these damned Americans. I'd be probed – questioned, maybe, if they could keep me human long enough – and sliced open so they could examine every bit of me.

No more secrets.

What else would they discover of me? I wondered if Alfred's boss will recognize me. 'Good morning, Mr. President. The personification of England, who also happens to be a werewolf, was probed and killed by your scientists and deemed an alien.'

It amused me so greatly I had to chuckle a bit.

The door opened upwards and created a rattling sound like metal. A garage? That's what it sounded like. When my eyes adjusted to the light I could see a figure standing in the threshold of the holding place I was in.

Danger.

"Comrade!" The figure called. "Why did you not tell me you were awake? I would have come in earlier."

Russia.

I could have accepted death, I suppose. If it was for the better of society, the people could have learned all my lupine secrets and dispose of the body secretly, or maybe even share me with the world. An international museum exhibit: ROMULUS KIRKLAND; the gentlemanly werewolf.

But this? This was… indescribable, the terror that I could feel. It hit me like a car speeding, and thanks to Alfred, I knew what that felt like.

"Russia."

It was poison, that word – that name, - and it tasted bad in my mouth. The tall man grinned childishly back at me.

"Hello, Arthur. It is quite nice to see each other outside of work, da?" He reached out his hand, as if I was supposed to shake it from four feet away. I drew up a face of repulse and spat at his feet.

"Now I will have to clean that up later." He frowned a bit, before taking a few steps forward and bending closer to look at me.

"What do you want?" Was that my voice? It was steady, something I hadn't expected. "Will you beat me to death? Nuke my country? Shoot me with a silver bullet?"

Russia smiled at me for a few moments, and I wondered if he was mulling it over. A sense of dread washed over me. "That last idea sounds quite good." He said finally.

Me and my big mouth.

"Maybe I will spare you." He then said, and looked over me with a studious eye. I tried not to spit in his face.

He stood up straight. "Arthur. You know how I am, yes? I like to play games. I don't like it when someone is playing them without me."

"Sometimes there are already too many players, Ivan." I gritted my teeth.

He let out a chuckle. "Not for really good games! It is hard to find really good games nowadays. But… I think I have one in mind."

"What is that? See if wolves really do chew their own leg off if they're chained somewhere?" I scoffed.

"An amusing suggestion, but no." He was focusing on part of my face; my mouth, I think. I smiled at him and something seemed to ease in his mind. What, did he think I had canine teeth?

"I will make this simple for your painstakingly tiny half-human-half-wolf brain. I will let you live, England. I will not kill you. I will not kill your…friends. But in return, I want to play this game, too."

He cast a knowing look at me and then stuck his hand out again.

I knew this time he wasn't looking for a handshake.

It was disgusting. I could feel my gut wrenching itself away, since I wasn't moving quickly enough for it. I knew what he wanted.

And really. What was the worst that could happen?

{AUTHOR'S COMMENTS}

bwaaah, why you say that, Arthur? That always just makes it worse.

If you didn't already know, this is an Axis Powers Hetalia - The Wolves of Mercy Falls crossover. Two of my favorite things have been merged into one. :D

I hope you liked this chapter. 3 Now you've got the gist of it, huh? And yeah, sorry for the Russia lovers. He's the bad guy here.

HETALIA / WOLVES OF MERCY FALLS IS NOT MINE.

READ + REVIEW! :D