C H A P T E R S I X

• ENGLAND }} arthur •

The first feeling that crept into my fingers was a chill. It was cold; a good sign. I was happy to be human once more, but was quite uncomfortable sprawled across the ground in a dark place. At first I felt shock as I looked around, afraid I was once again in the clutches of Russia. Then I pushed myself up, and hit my head on the underbelly of a car.

I swore loudly, grasping my head as I pulled myself out from underneath the beat-up van Gilbert drove around before making my way blindly across the garage to a few locked safety bins. I pulled above me on a string, and light filled dimly illuminated the stuffy garage. I pulled a key from underneath a welcome mat and shoved it into the lock, twisting and pulling as it fell away. I plunged into the bin and fished out a shirt that was a little too big and a pair of jeans.

The second feeling that crept into my stomach was hunger. I wanted food; fast. I wasted no time in heading inside – casting a few confused looks to the room; why was the couch chewed up? Did I do that? – and up the stairs, not even saying hello to Toris as I passed him to the refrigerator. Good thing I had some leftover scones stored; I pulled one out and began munching on it, sans jam.

"Ah- Arthur. You're back." Toris noted, giving me an awkward smile.

Awkward. He always seemed to be so, whether to strangers or old friends, but I knew him as a sturdy person. "And glad to be so, Toris." I said.

"I'd assume." He responded. He looked shaken. "We have to talk about something, though. Are you stable?"

I frowned at him a bit. Talk about something. "Did I do something?"

He shook his head. "Not that I believe. Are you stable?"

I nodded, and he motioned with his hand to follow. I abandoned my scone – it was a little stale, anyways. I wondered how long I'd been out of it – and followed Toris down the hall and upstairs, to where I heard Gilbert singing loudly – something in German.

I entered the room to find Gilbert tapping a chair's arm in tune with whatever he was listening to, and Sweden watching him stoically. As I walked in he turned to look at me, no emotion in his face, like usual.

It took me a few moments to formulate an answer. "What's going on here?" I tried to ask casually.
"The Swede turned into a wolf on us." Gilbert called, switching back to German in a second.

I glanced from Berwald to Toris, who nodded affirmation.

I leaned against the wall. "How?"

Berwald shrugged.

"He said he wasn't bit. He just shifted. We were waiting for you." Toris explained, making up for Berwald's inarticulateness.

I spread my hands out. "What for? What are we supposed to talk about? We don't have any basis on what's going on." I said, a bit agitated.

Toris looked a bit disappointed I didn't have some kind of mind-blowing answer for us.

"Well, it likes variety." Gilbert said, accent more acknowledged after singing. "I mean, we, quite frankly, have nothing in common besides being men. We're of complete different ethnicities."

I was surprised he knew the word 'ethnicities'. "You're right, at least."

"So.. 't's spread'n." Berwald said gruffly. All three heads of ours turned to look at him. He stared back at us, waiting for an answer.

Toris cleared his throat. "I-it would appear.. that way."

He didn't seem to be too comfortable around Berwald. The man was a little intimidating, I guess – of course, not for someone like me, no, not at all – but I wondered if there was something more, perhaps. Bah, right.

"Then we have to stop it from spreading further." I said, authority in my voice.

Gilbert threw his ruby gaze to me. "How're we going to do that, my liege?" He said casually.

My eyes narrowed and my reply was short. "Don't look to me for all the answers. We'll have to work together to formulate an answer."

He looked away and I looked out the window at the same scenery we'd been watching diligently for the past three months or so. Dead leaves fluttered around restlessly.

Originally it had just been Toris, of course. He had purchased this house under his name after an almost-disasterous plane ride from Vilnius, Lithuania, to America for a meeting. Before then he hadn't known that he himself would be shifting into a wolf; he only knew he had been bitten by one. He decided it was too risky to try flying back, and had settled down here in Vermont.

Months later he had infected Raivis and me, a horrible accident in which he still apologized profusely for. It was getting annoying, honestly, and if he wasn't good of heart I would have slapped him by now. Raivis moved in permanently, and I travel from an apartment I rent downtown. It is my second home, and I am thankful to him for letting me use it.

Gilbert, just a week or so ago, had shifted, and had evacuated Ludwig and Feliciano's shared home on the outskirts of this town out of fright. I don't think he wants his brother to see him like this, and I can't imagine what would happen to Italy if he witnessed him shifting. Ludwig, from what I've heard, is confused how his always-dependent sibling had suddenly decided to move out.

I've been watching, just waiting for someone to discover us. You'd think it to be easy for our governments to realize that we were acting strange, but now that I think about it, we didn't talk to our bosses very often. And how many times did we have a say in an important decision? We may be the embodiments of the country, but I think we represent our people - not our government.

"Well… let's get started, anyways." Toris said, moving across the room.

•••

• AMERICA }} alfred •

The house was cramped, too full of raging emotions. Matthew had left the house to escape me, but now I found myself escaping him, and thus maybe freeing him, too.

I preferred walking places around town. So, once I got downtown I made a purchase and set off towards Arthur's dressed in nice, but casual clothing, a bag of real food in my hands. Not his crappy English food.

It was a nice day out; the sun was warm against my back, but it was pretty chilly, so jackets were necessary. I passed mothers with young children, senior citizens, and college students, enjoying a day off perhaps. These were my people. The feelings I got when looking at them were like a milkshake; so blended, it was too hard to pick apart. I was proud of them and what they had to go through each day. I was jealous of them because they had normal lives. It made me feel awkward being around them; I wasn't like them. What if something slipped out?

Plus, they were part of me. That was just… weird. Did I live in each of them? If they all died, did I, also? Perhaps that was why Prussia was still around – his bloodlines were passed down even today. If a nuclear bomb shattered America and killed everyone, would I cease to exist?

I entered his apartment building, nodding to the doorman, who in return gave me a dip of his hat. You are me, I thought.

A few flights of stairs later I was at Arthur's front door, a small hopeful smile on my face. I ran a hand through my hair and knocked on the door, as taught.

I waited for a few minutes, trying to listen for footsteps or some kind of noise, but I didn't hear anything and no one answered the door. So I rang the doorbell and knocked again.

No response.

Was he just angry at me? Or had something happened?

"Arthur!" I hissed through the door, standing on my tippy-toes to see through his eyehole. My glasses pushed against my face edgily, so I backed off and knocked one more time. Nothing.

"Are you just ignoring me?" I called quietly, not wanting to bother his neighbors.

"Pleeease~! Can I come in? I brought McDonald's!" Haha, now he wouldn't be able to resist!

I shifted my weight on my heels, contemplating what to do. Finally, I gave into my instincts and broke down the door.

The apartment was empty. I'd only been inside once or twice.

It smelled like him.

I walked the rooms to find no trace of Arthur so I returned to the kitchen, where a tea cup was abandoned, half-drunk. I placed the bag of food beside it and scrounged through his drawers for paper. Finally, I found a folded-up grocery list and a pen and set to writing a note.

Dear Arthur,

Hiya!

I'm at your apartment right now, but seeing as I'm writing this, you're not here! D:

I don't know if you got my calls. I was hoping to get together for lunch sometime, but maybe you're avoiding me. ;u; I'm not sure.

Anyways, I brought you some food. With the way you eat, it should last you the next week or two. Don't worry, everything will stay good: I know from experience! So, trust me, because a hero never lies! ;D

Love, Alfred. 3

A wave of déjà vu swept over me as I finished. It seemed…funny. Like I've done this before. Have I? I don't usually write notes, or letters, especially not to Arthur, so why would I feel this way?

It crashed over me like a tidal wave, like I was being dragged to the bottom of the ocean to rest fitfully. I can remember writing my name in bright red crayon, chubby, small fingers trying to grasp it and hold it correctly as I misspelled every word. I don't remember what I was writing. Just Love, Alfred.

I'm not a fan of that kind of history, but I don't think they had crayons in the 1700's.

Odd.

•••

• FINLAND }} tino •

"Tino, you're pacing a rut into the floor, and I'm not paying for that~!"

I flinched a little at Matthias' voice and froze before looking up to see him watching me, Nikolaus peering around him and Emil taking a few glances from where he was pretending to be bored on the couch.

What do I say? I don't really have many intelligent responses to that, besides looking bashful and apologizing. I'm a little sick of apologizing to Matthias, though. What would Berwald do?
I pull my face into a scowl and glare at him.

It elicited laughter from him, something I hadn't been expecting. He crossed the room in a few steps and pulled me into a sideways hug. I gasped and wriggled a bit.
"What was that, Tino? Haha! Your face! Let's go get some coffee. Coffee, Nikolaus?"

Nikolaus shrugged.

"Coffee it is! C'mon, Tino, let's go." He said, pulling me forward.

In a hurry I was rushed out the door, with hardly enough time to throw on an old jacket of mine and my shoes before being whisked outside by him. It was pretty warm outside, so I didn't see why we were getting coffee. In my opinion, he really didn't need any more coffee.

Matthias doesn't say anything as we walked to the local café, but I noticed that his gaze kept shifting along as we walked. Like he's expecting something. I try not to feel suspicious, for his sake. I know he's not a bad person.

He stops abruptly, and I almost fall as I stop, too.

He snapped his fingers. "Ah, crap! I forgot my wallet. Let me run back and get it; you go ahead." He said, turning.

"It's okay, I have mine." I smiled at him, glad to relieve him of his mistake.

He shook his head. "No, just go on."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But – I have it right here! Ah - Matthias!" I call after him, but he's already turned and running back.

Sometimes I don't understand him. But, whatever. I shake my head and keep walking the familiar path to the quaint café. I smile up at the sky. I shudder once and try to ignore an itch I have on my arm.

It's been maybe five minutes since Matthias's been gone, but who's counting?

Wow. It's actually really hot out here. I can't help but shrug off my jacket and hang it over my shoulder, but I still feel like I'm sweating. Silly American weather. I'm so used to the cold, I guess even little climate changes just set me off!

The itch won't go away. I look over my shoulder, but there's no sight of Matthias. I wonder if maybe I should just turn around. I don't want coffee; I just want to go home. I feel a little queasy.

What if I collapse? There's no one around to help me – no, I'm a country. I don't get sick like this unless something bad has happened. I'm not having a seizure or a stroke or something. Suddenly, it felt all too important to get back to Finland.

The heat is overwhelming. I staggered a bit, trying to keep my balance, but it's too hard to stay up for some reason. I fell to the ground and then tried to get back up again, wobbling on uneasy legs before dropping to the ground.

What's going on? I panic. The itch is spreading, going right from an annoyance on the surface of my skin to a tingling pain in my bones.

"Matthias!" I cried, hoping that he might have be able to hear me, but I know he's probably only back at the house by now.

In a fleeting moment, I went black. I wasn't aware of how I felt, physically or psychologically. I wasn't aware of where I was, who I was, or why. I was nothing and everything at the same time.

And then I was a wolf.

I looked around, shaking in this new skin. The scents were stronger, the colors more vibrant. The world was new. Uusi. It was odd having a different perspective on everything, odd to be on four legs instead of two. It felt wrong and right at the same time.

But I was still me. I glanced around, thoughts too cluttered to pick apart.

There were some things I couldn't remember, but I knew that Matthias would be here soon. I knew that Matthias was a human. My guts knew that I should leave. My guts knew that humans were bad. What to believe?

I was Tino. I was Finland. I was a wolf. I was a human. I was too many things at once.

Stay out of sight.

I crossed the hard black ground that smelled of metal, and dove into the bushes on the other side. At least they were alive, and real. I vaguely wondered if I was hallucinating, or had died. I didn't think so.

I wandered around for a while, trotting and then walking, sniffing and then running. I caught a whiff of Matthias.

Stay away.

But I should find him, right? He was going to come back. He'd know what to do. He was always the big brother.

No! My instincts shouted at me, but I followed the scent trail anyways. It brought me through places I'd never thought he'd be, through alleys and parks that he shouldn't have been in. He was supposed to be home. Not here. This wasn't home, I think.

The scent grew stronger, and suddenly he was there, talking in low tones. He didn't look like the Matthias I knew, but he looked like him, too. The other person – was it a person? – looked familiar. The name came slowly at me, and I had to grasp for it just to keep it there for a moment; Russia. Their scents mingled. They were close together. One of them seemed happy.

I was too confused by this. Russia and Denmark shouldn't have been talking. They were strangers, for all I knew, connected by nothing but meetings. My mind exploded.

The wolf took over for me.

Stay away, it informed me.

I gave in and backed off, ears flattened against lupine head, before turning tail and fleeing the scene.

This was the Matthias I remembered. I'd thought that giving him a second chance would allow me to get to know him, but I guess I already did in the first place.

I'm sorry this is so lateeee ;u; I've had such a writer's block lately for this story.