Disclaimer: We're running out of fun ways to say this: we don't own Hetalia.

A/N: Hey, everyone!

Sorry there wasn't a chapter yesterday. My computer broke down and it's still broken. But Castor was determined to role-play so we could get you another chapter. Usually we role-play through online messages. Last night we opened a Microsoft Word Document, passed the computer between us, and we role-played. Here's our chapter. We were really busy today, so I didn't have time to edit this until tonight.

Hey, Castor. Yeah? Do you think we're doing too many kidnappings? Hm . . . Nah!

Enjoy! Please review!

The Lost Chapter

The light shone through the blinds of Germany's room, filling the room with the dim dawn. Germany shifted uncomfortably in the bed. After kidnapping him, Teutonic had driven into the volcano and out of another one. Denmark's doppelganger had stopped the car for a moment before Teutonic continued driving until he reached what could have been Germany. Germany had been collared with a skin tight collar then untied. He was allowed to roam the house but he couldn't leave the grounds. After a bit of exploring, Germany had discovered the building Teutonic lived in was rather old with a gothic style to it.

Sitting up, Germany massaged his sore neck. The collar chaffed against the skin worse than the Vikings' leather collar had. Not to mention it nearly pinched the skin. Reluctantly, Germany left the room in search of the kitchen for breakfast.

"I see you're up, kleinen bruder," Teutonic commented from his position on the couch. The realm was lazily sprawled across the furniture as he watched Germany carefully.

Germany paused to look at Teutonic. "Ja," he said. "And stop calling me your bruder."

"You are my kleinen bruder." Teutonic stood up, crossing his arms. "I can call you whatever I want."

"You are not my bruder," Germany snapped, planting his hands on his hips defiantly. This realm was really starting to annoy him. He was almost, if not more, as annoying as Prussia.

Teutonic leaned forward with a raised eyebrow. "Listen well, Germany," he said slowly. "You are my kleinen bruder. Accept it."

"Nein!" Germany lunged forward to punch Teutonic. He never made it. Teutonic held up a small remote, pressing a button. A shocked passed through Germany's spine as he was paralyzed. The realm caught his 'brother' as he collapsed, laying Germany carefully on the couch. He crouched beside the couch, watching Germany with green eyes.

"W-Was?" Germany stared up at Teutonic with wide eyes. The immobility terrified him. He couldn't protect himself if Teutonic wanted to hurt him.

Teutonic chuckled as he brushed Germany's hair out of his eyes. "Because I'm such a nice großen bruder, I took away any reason to punish you. You can't attack me and I won't have to punish you."

Germany glared at the realm before turning his face away. "You are not my großen bruder," he muttered softly.

"Oh, don't be like that, kleinen bruder." Teutonic turned Germany's face back to him. "I'll tell you what, because I love you I'll bring you some breakfast."

"How long will I be paralyzed?" Germany asked.

"Until I turn the collar off." Teutonic smirked as he stood and moved Germany onto his side.

"And when will that be?"

"When I feel like it." With that, Teutonic turned away and left the room.

'Verdamnt. I hope Prussia is looking for me.' Germany stared at the floor. Prussia would search for him . . . right?

"Oh, kleinen bruder," Teutonic sang, walking back into the room with a bowl of oatmeal. "Are you hungry?"

"Ja." Germany glared at Teutonic. Suddenly, a realization dawned on him. "You are a parallel nation, ja?"

Teutonic scowled as he placed the bowl down. "Ja, I'm a realm."

"Then where is your Germany?"

"My Germany is nowhere to be found." Teutonic moved Germany into a sitting position and situated the pillows around him.

"What do you mean?" Germany asked.

"You never existed here." Teutonic grabbed the bowl and sat beside Germany. He held out a spoonful of oatmeal for his 'brother'.

Germany deliberated whether or not he should eat the food before he finally accepted it. "I already have one großen bruder, I don't need another one," he said after swallowing.

Teutonic scowled and held up another spoonful. "You're right, you only need one großen bruder."

"It sounds like you're insinuating something there," Germany commented, taking the food.

"I am your großen bruder." Teutonic leered as he scooped up more oatmeal. "Not that asshole who dares to call himself a nation. I've watched him, he's hopeless."

"Prussia is not hopeless!" Germany turned away from the food. "He is everything you will never be."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Teutonic asked with a scowl.

"Prussia is honest, caring, and, in his own special way, loving. He may be a bit eccentric and make foolish decisions, but he has never been anything less than a großen bruder to me."

Teutonic's scowl deepened and he slammed the bowl down onto the coffee table. "I've had enough." He stood, glaring at Germany. "I am your großen bruder and I don't want to hear any more about it."

"You will never be my großen bruder. I won't accept it," Germany growled.

Teutonic clenched a fist before slapping Germany across the face. "Verschließen! (Shut up!)"

Germany grunted with the slap. "And he would never strike me," he added.

"That's it," Teutonic snarled. "You leave me no choice!" He hoisted Germany onto his shoulder and stormed down a set of stairs.

"What are you doing?" Germany tried to struggle but his body refused to even move an inch.

"You wouldn't verschließen, you don't give me a choice." Teutonic dumped Germany onto the flagstones of the basement. The cold seeping up from the floor made Germany flinch.

"You're going to leave me down here?" he asked.

"Nein." Teutonic strode over to a table, opening what looked like a cooler. Mist drifted from the box as the lid was opened.

"What is that?" Germany struggled to look at what Teutonic was doing. What did the realm have planned for him?

Teutonic lifted out a chuck of metal resembling a small shield with a cross on it. "Have you ever heard of freeze branding before?" he asked.

"J-Ja." Germany watched the realm with wide eyes.

"Gut, I wouldn't want you to be unprepared." Teutonic marched over to Germany and knelt beside him.

"You're going to brand me?" Germany wished he could move away from the doppelganger.

Teutonic grabbed Germany's hair and tilted his head to the side. "Ja, I'm going to remind you who your großen is."

"Nein! Don't do that!" Germany tried in vain to jerk his head away. Teutonic cackled as he moved the collar out of the way and plunged the freezing metal onto Germany's bare skin. Germany shouted in shock and pain, tossing his head wildly. Teutonic removed the brand, examining the white mark left behind. He let the collar fall back in place before standing.

"I think I'll let you stay here and think about what you've done, kleinen bruder." The realm left the room, shutting the door quietly.

The quiet hum of the collar around Germany's neck stopped and feeling raced back into the nation's limbs. Wincing, Germany sat up to rub feeling back into his arms. He gingerly touch the brand under his collar.

'Great, another on.'

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Finland poked his head into the trees, his brow furrowed. Germany had disappeared two days ago, leaving no trace. Canada had left to follow the scent but returned not a day later talking about someone attacking America. Apparently they had looked like Canada. He had also brought the news of Italy's and North Korea's disappearances.

"I don't see Germany here, Canada," Finland called as he turned around. Canada glanced up from sniffing the ground and whined. The nation had transformed into a polar bear in order to find clues easier. He hadn't wanted to leave his brother alone with Switzerland, but America had forced Canada to leave.

Finland sighed and muttered, "I know what it's like." Canada cocked his head in a silent question.

"Canada, can you come here, please?" Taiwan called from a ways away. Canada growled in response and lumbered away toward the Asian nation.

"First Iceland and now Germany," Finland said, turning back to the trees. "What's going on?" He came face to face with someone who looked suspiciously familiar. "Ohya!" Finland jumped back in surprise. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Kalmar, the K'ng of the N'rth." Kalmar's grin didn't reach his haunted orange eyes.

"I-I thought Denmark was the self-proclaimed King of the North." Finland blinked, cocking his head in confusion.

Kalmar grimaced at the look. "I us'd ta be D'nmark, b'fore . . ." he didn't finish his sentence.

"Before what?" Finland looked Kalmar up and down. "You look like someone I know."

"It doesn't m'tter." Kalmar stepped forward. "Ya'll f'nd out soon enough."

"What do you mean?" Finland backed away for the advancing realm. "How am I going to find out soon enough? I don't even know you."

"I kn'w ya." Kalmar lunged forward, seizing Finland by both wrists. "Yer my lillebror, F'nny."

"Ohya! I don't know you!" Finland struggled against Kalmar, lashing out with his foot to catch the realm's leg. Kalmar stepped away from the blow with practiced ease. Dropping Finland, he drew his large battle axe.

"Gah!" Finland scrambled to his feet and darted away from Kalmar, into the trees. He heard a furious roar and a surprised shout behind him but that didn't stop the small Nordic nation.

Instincts took over and Finland leapt of a ledge, landing on the ground silently. Racing around a labyrinth of bends, he came to a stop and looked around. With heavy breaths, Finland climbed a tree, leaning against the trucks when he was satisfied with the height.

'I lost him.'

The air was silent for a few minutes until heavy boots on the ground broke it. Kalmar strode with meaning. His axe rested on his shoulder, deep red blood dripping off the blade.

"Skide skabning, (Damn creature,) I don't think I've ever seen a polar bear get that large before," Kalmar muttered. Finland clapped a hand over his mouth and watched the hunter with wide eyes. What had he done to Canada? Was the poor nation injured badly? Was he dead?

"Yer pr'tty l'cky, F'nny." Kalmar stopped under Finland's tree. "I only g've yer l'ttle pet a d'ngerous cut. I could h've k'lled him." Finland attempted to regulate his breathing, praying Kalmar didn't find him.

'He doesn't know I'm up here. There's no way he can tell I climbed up here.'

"Icy tried ta h'de fr'm me too," Kalmar commented as he strode off in a random direction, swinging his axe dangerously. "I'll t'll ya wh't, c'me out now and I pr'mise not ta go b'ck ta k'll th'at bear." Finland glared after the retreating form. Deeming it safe, he scrambled down from the tree. He needed to find Kalmar and warn the rest of his group. Strong arms shot out of the shadows to twine around Finland's waist.

"Got ya."

"Ohya!" Finland struggled against the arms. "Let me go! I'm not your pikkuveli. (little brother.)" He heard Kalmar mutter under his breath and suddenly his legs gave way under him. "W-What?" Finland stared at the ground in shock. He couldn't feel his legs.

"J'st a l'ttle s'mething I p'cked up fr'm Nor wh'n I k'lled him." Kalmar gently lowered Finland to the ground. Drawing rope from his pocket. He bound Finland's arms and legs tightly.

"What do you mean 'something you picked up from Nor'?" Finland struggled against the ropes, grimacing when they chaffed his wrists.

"M'gic." Kalmar tied a strip of cloth in Finland's mouth then hosted him over his shoulder. He began to make his way in the direction they had come.

"Mph!" Finland thrashed against Kalmar's grip wildly until something caught his eye. Canada lay on the ground unconscious. His legs had been slashed dangerously deep and red blood soaked his snowy fur from a deep gash on his face. Finland stared at his little brother in horror. How could Kalmar have been stronger than a polar bear?

"He'll be f'ne," Kalmar told Finland. "As l'ng as s'meone f'nds him soon." The realm carried his prize toward Eyjafjallajökull. Finland looked at the volcano in confusion before shaking his head madly. Lava was shooting from the top of the fiery mountain, lighting the night sky. Kalmar ignored Finland's fear and entered a hole at the base of the volcano, stepping into a destroyed city.

"W'lcome ta Ic'land, F'nny." Finland stared at the crumbling ghost town in shock. Snapping out of his daze, he began to struggle frantically.

"Mph!"

Kalmar sighed and lowered Finland to the ground, deciding to take another approach to the problem. He cut Finland's legs free and released the nation's arm. Finland collapsed to the ground, unable to control his legs.

"I can eith'r leave ya h're fer the w'lves ta get or ya can c'me w'th me," Kalmar said. Finland looked up at Kalmar then at the ground, contemplating. Be killed while unable to move or go with Kalmar where he would at least be safe? Making his decision, Finland hung his head in defeat.

"There's a good lillebror," Kalmar cooed, hoisting Finland over his shoulder once more, heading through the Icelandic town. "I'm s'ure Icy and Nor will be h'ppy ta see ya . . . I th'nk I need ta r'set Nor's f'mur. I m'ght h've been a c'ntimeter off."

A choked sob forced its way out of Finland's throat, a tear travelling down the Nordic nation's face. Kalmar had Iceland the whole time, and now he had Norway. By the sound of it, the realm was going to hurt anyone who stayed with him. Fear twisted in Finland's gut. He wanted to go back home.

Kalmar reached the edge of the island and stepped onto the solidified water. Finland stared at the rocky surface in shock and wonder what had happened to this world? There were no humans, the cities were falling apart, and the water was solidified. Kalmar traveled across the water with ease and practice.

"I us'd ta h've a son . . ." Kalmar said conversationally. "I st'll h've one, but his br'ther's dead now." The realm spoke during the long trek to Norway and eventually Denmark.

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Greece panted as he leaned against the gate. He'd done it. He'd broken out once more and had gotten to the gate. There was no way Ottoman could force him to stay anymore. Though he was victorious, Greece's legs and arm throbbed in pain from all the movement.

Still panting, Greece froze as a snarl was emitted from nearby bushes.

"Who's there?" Greece called as he straightened up. Ottoman's large dog stalked out of the bushes, drool dripping from its dangerously long fangs. Greece stared at the dog fearfully before stepping back. His back collided with one of the columns supporting the tall gate.

"Skatá," Greece swore under his breath. At the sound, the dog lunged forward and sank its teeth deep into Greece's forearm. The nation howled as he struggled against dog. Collapsing to the ground, he tried to pry the dog's jaws open one handed. The dog released Greece's arm in favor of chomping down on his shoulder, dangerously close to the nation's throat. Greece thrashed madly while making inhuman noises. He scrabbled madly to get a hold on the dog's fur.

In all the racket Greece was making, Ottoman hadn't appeared to rescue him yet. The dog released Greece's shoulder, towering over him with blood dripping from its fangs. Greece watched through half-lidded eyes as the dog crouched to lunge for the kill.

Just as the dog leapt forward, a hand shot out and easily snapped its neck. The body was tossed carelessly to the side. Green eyes stared down at the injured nation with wide eyes.

"What the hell?" Teutonic crouched down to gather Greece into his arms. He couldn't believe Ottoman would have been careless enough to do something like this. The realm turned and headed for Ottoman's house. For a moment, Greece was worried Teutonic would return him to Ottoman. Teutonic kicked the door to the house open, nearly breaking it.

"Ottoman," Teutonic bellowed angrily.

"Ne? (What?)" Ottoman peeked around the corner, seemingly oblivious to the state of his charge.

"This." Teutonic nodded down to Greece. The island nation moaned in pain. "What the hell were you thinking?" Teutonic demanded.

"That's none of yer business," Ottoman snapped, stepping around the corner and stalking up to Teutonic. "Why are ya here?"

Teutonic scowled at the realm. "I came to see what you were doing," he explained. "Apparently I should have come sooner. Just what the hell were you thinking?"

"Why do ya care? He's just a little brat." Ottoman crossed his arms, scowling back at Teutonic."

Teutonic stiffened. "He's a nation," he snapped. "We had an agreement, Ottoman. Our job is to treat the nations like one of our own. They aren't spielzeug. (playthings.)"

"I never agreed to anything,"

"You signed the agreement," Teutonic snarled. "You swore to follow the rules we laid down."

Ottoman gave Teutonic a feral grin. "When have I ever been one fer rules, Teutonic?" he asked. "You've known me my entire life. Did ya know that I killed the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus after Global War Three?" Teutonic mouthed wordlessly for a minute before he turned to leave. "Where do ya think yer goin'?" A ring bounced around the room as a sword was drawn.

Teutonic glanced back. "I'm leaving, what does it look like?" He should have known Ottoman couldn't be trusted.

"It looks like yer tryin' ta take what's mine." Ottoman stood in a defensive posture, his curved sword held before him.

"When you're ready to follow the rules," Teutonic snarled. "We'll think about letting you have a nation. Until then, grow up. You're acting like a child. Come and get him when you think you're mature enough."

Ottoman howled angrily and charged forward, swinging his sword dangerously. Swiftly, Teutonic lowered Greece to the ground and drew his own sword with a ring. Metal met metal with a loud screech that made Greece wince.

"You're acting like a child," Teutonic repeated. "What would you do if I told you your precious little dog was no more?" he asked.

"Ya little!" Ottoman lashed out again. Teutonic grabbed the blade of the sword with a glove-protected hand. At Greece's moan, he glanced between the nation and the realm.

"I don't have time for this." Teutonic ripped the sword from Ottoman's grip and hurled the weapon at the wall. The sword quivered on impact, ringing loudly. The German realm sheathed his own sword and scooped Greece back into his arms.

"Fine." Ottoman spat at the ground. "I don't need a little brat anyways. Maybe I'll go have a chat with Kalmar."

"About what? Kalmar would kill you on sight." Teutonic glared at the Mediterranean realm. "I'll be warning the others about you. I really don't feel the need to come over and pick someone else up. Don't bother going after Egypt."

Ottoman snarled and stalked away from Teutonic, muttering under his breath. Teutonic left the house, carrying Greece to his truck where he laid him in the back carefully. Greece shifted uncomfortably throughout the entire ride. Eventually, he was lifted from the floor and carried into a building where Teutonic laid him on a bed. Greece grimaced and moaned as his shirt was stripped off.

"Scheiße, what the hell was he thinking?" Teutonic grabbed a syringe and swiftly injected Greece with a sedative. The nation's eyelids fluttered shut as the medicine took effect. He was dimly aware of something painful poking at his wounds before he fell into darkness.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

South peeked into a cave and called out, jumping in slight surprise when her voice echoed against the stone. The female ex-nation watched the cave cautiously. In all her history of warfare, such a large, open space was not to be trusted. Anyone could see and attack you.

"I'm not findin' anythin' here," South said, backing away from the mouth of the cave.

"Neither am I, are Teufelhund, but we're getting bad news." Prussia stood behind his wife, watching their surroundings with a wary expression.

"What's that?" South asked as she glanced back at Prussia.

"Canada has been viciously attacked by an axe-wielding idiot," Prussia explained. "Wales has been shot, and America was attacked by Canada's evil twin. Several nation have gone missing and we just found out from Hong Kong, Spain, Romania, and Estonia that there is another world somewhere out there. Something bad is going on." He massaged his temples. "My bruder is missing."

"Germany?" South straightened up immediately. "He's gone missin'?"

"Ja, so have Scotland, Denmark, Iceland, England, Norway, Finland, Greece, Romano, Austria, Liechtenstein, Seychelles, Italy, North Korea, Belarus, Australia, New Zealand, France, Belgium, and Egypt."

South thought hard while her husband spoke. "Nineteen nations have gone missin'? How do so many just disappear?" she asked.

"America says he was attacked by Canada's doppelganger. Apparently Italy and North Korea were kidnaped by their brothers' doppelgangers too." Prussia glanced over his shoulder. "Listen, I need to talk to Antarctica. Stay out of trouble, ja?"

"Alright, you can trust me." South thumped her chest with a fist. Prussia smiled, ruffling her hair before he left. South giggled and shook her head to straighten out her hair. She twirled once before turning back to the cave and planting her hands on her hips.

"Well," she said aloud. "What have you go to show me?"

"Not much really."

South spun around in surprise. "Canada?" she asked. Hadn't Prussia said her brother's brother was injured badly?

"Nej," the doppelganger said with a shake of his head. "I'm not Canada."

"Well, then, I don't believe we've met. I am the Confederate States of America, more commonly known as South."

"Confederacy," the doppelganger repeated, smiling. "I'm Vinland." He took South's hand and kissed it gently.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Vinland." South smiled pleasantly. "How can I help you? It seems strange that you'd be out in this kind of weather."

"I was just looking around." Vinland surveyed their surroundings with yellow eyes.

"Is there anythin' in particular you're lookin' for?" South clasped her hands behind her.

"Well, I was looking for . . ." Vinland paused and South leaned in excitedly.

"Yes?"

"You." Vinland leapt forward, wrapping his arms around South.

"Rotten varmint!" South struggled against her confines as Vinland reached into his pocket and withdrew a strip of cloth. South's eyes widened in realization and her struggling increased. What did this stranger think he was doing? Somewhere in the back of her mind, South had enough sense to send a panicked call to her brother.

"Don't worry," Vinland said smoothly, tying the cloth around South's mouth. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"YANKEE!"

South struggled as her hands were bound behind her. Something sharp pricked her in the neck and he legs collapsed beneath her.

"REBEL! Hang in there! I'm coming!"

As darkness overtook the female ex-nation, Vinland's last words rang through her head.

"I could never hurt my wife."

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France opened his eyes to find himself lying on a king-sized bed. For a moment, all he did was lay there thinking, until the sounds of the wardrobe sniffling caught his attention. Curious, he slid off the bed and moved to the piece of furniture to open the door.

Belgium gasped in fear, looking up at the nation towering above her. Her eyes were red and her face was blotchy from crying. She sat wedged in the corner, he legs pulled up to her chest. Whimpering, she tried to push herself farther back into the wardrobe.

"Belgique?" France asked gently, crouching down to see Belgium better. "Are you alright?" No doubt the poor nation was haunted by what Gaul had done to her.

Belgium whimpered again and hid her face in her knees. France thought he heard a muffled 'Frankrijk'.

"Belgium, I am not going to hurt you. Dat beloof ik. (I promise.)" France held his arms open.

Belgium looked up at the sound of Dutch before crawling forward. "France," she sobbed into the nation's chest.

Ever so slowly, so as to not frighten Belgium, France closed his arms in a warm embrace.

"It's alright," France cooed softly. "I will not let him touch you again."

Belgium wrapped her arms around France's midsection and buried her face in his jacket. "Fr-France," she hiccupped.

France lifted the sobbing nation into his arms and carried her to the bed. Laying Belgium down, he laid beside her and wrapped his arms her protectively.

"Nothing will touch you. Sleep."

"Dank u, France." Belgium curled up tightly, hiding her face in the pillow.

"De rien, ma petite fleur." France nuzzled Belgium's hair comfortingly. "Sleep well."

"What do I say?" Belgium's voice was scratchy from crying.

"To Switzerland?" France asked and Belgium nodded. "You tell him the truth. You cannot hide this for very long. He will love you all the same, you mean the world to him."

"It's going to break him." Tears welled in the female nation's eyes. "He'll never look at me the same."

"Non, do not say that. You must keep faith in love. Do you know how worried Switzerland was when you went missing? He went so far as to threaten Italy with a gun for being too loud." Belgium blushed lightly at the thought. Her fiancé cared that much about her? "Why don't you sleep while I watch over you?" France suggested.

"Beloof je dat? (You promise?)" Belgium asked in a quiet voice.

"Ik zweer het. (Cross my heart.)"

"Dank u, France." Belgium closed her eyes and, for the first time, she slept without nightmares.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Finland grunted as he was dropped unceremoniously on the ground. He glared up at the tall form of Kalmar.

"Don't look so gr'mpy, F'nny," Kalmar commented. "It doesn't suit ya." He leaned down to untied Finland's hands, allowing the nation to remove the gag himself.

Finland sat up and scowled. "You kidnapped me, idiootti!"

Kalmar crouched down and placed a hand on Finland's knee. "Ya'll und'rstand." A warm feeling rushed through Finland's legs and he found he move them again. "Don't b'ther r'nning, Moder w'll st'p ya."

"Moder?" Finland stumbled to his feet, holding onto the wall for support. "Is she one of your lackeys?" The small nation crossed his arms when he found his balance.

"Nej, j'st a good friend." Kalmar wandered out of the room and toward the library with a lost look in his eyes. It was late, past nightfall. He passed Iceland on his way down the hall.

"Halló, storebror," Iceland said with a hopeful look.

Kalmar paused to look down at the fox-nation. "Not t'ngiht, Icy. Storebror's not feel'ng w'll."

"What?" Iceland seized Kalmar's arm, giving it a good tug. "But I want it," he whined.

Kalmar just stared at the desperate nation before sighing. "F'ne, I need ta g've Nor his d'se too." He headed toward the kitchen. Iceland followed eagerly, drinking the drugs quickly when Kalmar handed him the glass. He scowled at the glass before Kalmar took it away.

"This doesn't feel the same," Iceland commented.

"Yer j'st im'gining th'ngs, Icy." Kalmar patted the nation's head then grabbed another glass of drugs and headed for Norway's room. "Nor?" He opened the door to the dark room, casting a path of light across Norway's bed.

"Hva?" Norway looked up. "Oh, hei, Kalmar." The nation had healed quickly after Kalmar had reset his bones. Another day and he would be fully healed.

"Hej, lillebror. Ya ready fer yer dr'gs?" Kalmar motioned to the glass in his hands. Norway frowned but reluctantly held out his hand, glaring at Kalmar. "Ya h've ta sm'le if ya w'nt th'm." Kalmar moved to the bedside, waving the glass an inch form Norway's grasp. Norway grimaced before his lips twitched in an attempt to smile. "Good enough." Kalmar handed the glass over then sat on the bed, placing his hands on Norway's nearly healed femur.

Norway drank the drugs, wincing when Kalmar touched his leg. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I was r'ght. It's three c'ntimeters off." With a loud snap, Kalmar re-broke the bone with magic. Norway howled, scrabbling for his leg.

"Stop!"

Kalmar ignored the scream, repositioning the bone. Once he was certain it was perfect, he healed the bone with magic. "I can't h've ya w'lking w'th a l'mp, lillebror."

"No, of course not," Norway said through gritted teeth, glaring at Kalmar. "That would be absolutely the worst thing you could do to me."

Later, Norway would say that if he could, he would have taken his words back. Something inside Kalmar snapped. The bed's sheets twisted together to trap Norway's arms behind him in a tight grip as Kalmar's hold tightened and the femur snapped in half once more. Norway thrashed violently, screeching when the movement jostled his leg.

"I h've had enough of ya, Nor." Kalmar didn't release his tight grip on Norway's leg as the sheets tightened around Norway until he couldn't move an inch. "Ya need ta r'spect yer storebror."

Norway clenched his eyes shut, gritting his teeth through the pain. "Go . . . to . . . hell," he wheezed. Something flashed in Kalmar's eyes and the realm dew a dagger, seizing Norway's ankle. "What are you doing?" Norway tried to wrench his ankle from Kalmar's grasp. Kalmar didn't answer as he sliced the Achilles tendon in one smooth move. Norway howled as he felt something snap and swivel up his calf. Immense pain screamed through his body as he thrashed. The nation wished he could just die and end the pain.

Kalmar rose from the bed and left the room, locking the door behind him. Norway collapsed onto the bed panting.

"I hate you, storebror."

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The group glanced up as the door to the cell room opened. Egypt and Romano sat back to back in their cell while Liechtenstein hummed her national anthem. The young nation stopped at the sight of a mask-less Turkey striding down the length of the room.

The realm stopped to look down at Austria. The German nation glared up at the stranger, wrapping his arms protectively around Seychelles and Liechtenstein. The doppelganger just snorted and moved on to the next cell.

Romano did a double take at the sight of the doppelganger. "What do you want, bastard?" he demanded, annoyed. Why couldn't these realms just leave them in peace?

"The name's Ottoman," the doppelganger snarled. "Yer as bad as that brat was."

"Brat?" Egypt repeated with a raised eyebrow.

Ottoman looked to Egypt. "That little brat I got stuck with. They took him away when I 'broke the rules'."

"What rules were you breaking?" Austria asked warily. The realms had so far proven themselves as dangerous.

"Apparently I signed a stupid document that said we weren't supposed ta hurt ya nations," Ottoman said with a roll of his eyes. "Teutonic killed my dog too."

"What was your dog doing?" Egypt stood.

"Bastard!" Romano flailed wildly as his support disappeared from behind him. His attempts to keep from falling failed miserably, sending him face first into cement. They all heard a muffled 'dammit'.

"Nothin'," Ottoman said sheepishly.

Egypt crossed his arms, unconvinced. "What was he doing?" he asked again.

"He was attackin' the little brat." Ottoman rubbed the back of his neck.

"Who exactly is the 'little brat'?" Egypt tapped his foot impatiently.

"Who do you think?" Romano's voice was muffled by the floor.

Egypt glanced down at his cellmate before looking up Ottoman with horror. "You didn't?"

"What's it ta ya?" Ottoman crossed his arms defiantly.

"Greece happens to be my friend," Egypt said through clenched teeth. "We've known each other for centuries."

Ottoman was about to retort when a muffled call caught his attention and he froze, glancing nervously at the door. Austria could tell he wasn't supposed to be there. Growling, Ottoman dug a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door quickly.

"Cosa?" Romano glanced up curiously.

"What are you doing?" Egypt stepped back quickly.

Ottoman didn't answer, grabbing Egypt by the wrist and dragging him out of the cell. He threw the quiet nation over his shoulder before drawing his gun and aiming at Romano. Austria shouted in alarm while Romano yelled in anger. Liechtenstein screamed as three shots rang out through the room. Romano fell back screaming to the floor, clutching his abdomen as blood flowed freely from legs.

"Romano!" Austria seized the bars of the cell as Liechtenstein sobbed into Seychelles' shoulder. Romano screeched loudly, clawing at the ground.

"Hey, put me down!" Egypt struggled against Ottoman as the realm fled from the room after locking the cell door.

Romano howled in pain when his spasming jostled his legs. He was vaguely aware of the pounding of footsteps and shouting.

"What happened?"

"He was shot!"

"Was! Where are the keys?"

"They've gone missing, Teutonic-san."

"Never mind, break the door down."

"Da, ser." There was the sound of screeching metal and more footsteps. Cool hands grabbed Romano's shoulder, pinning him to the floor as his ankles were pinned down by strong hands.

"What the hell?" Teutonic appeared in Romano's vision, staring at the nation in shock. Romano screamed when a hand pressed down on his leg to stem the bleeding. Soviet and Imperial worked together to pin the writhing nation to the floor. "Bring the stretcher!"

"Right away, aru!" Footsteps raced away, returning moments later. Romano was lifted gently onto the stretcher and strapped down tightly, the nation crying out at every movement. Teutonic and Soviet lifted the stretcher between them and carried it down the hall.

"Get the room ready, Imperial," Teutonic ordered.

"Hai, Teutonic-san." Imperial rushed ahead with Formosa as Teutonic glanced down at Romano. Romano was vaguely aware of being carried into a room where he was transferred onto a cold surgical table.

"I have something for him, aru." Formosa's arm passed through Romano's blurring vision.

"Danke, Formosa." There was a sharp prick in Romano's arm. "Just relax, kid." Romano whimpered, his head falling to the side as the sedative took effect.

%%%%%

Ottoman hurried down the hall, listening to Romano's screams with glee. "That little brat used ta cause me so much trouble before he killed his brother." Rome had become a hermit after he'd killed his brother. He hadn't been seen for nearly a century before Hispania confronted him.

"Put me down, you bastard," Egypt snarled as he thrashed in Ottoman's grip. The usually quiet nation was choosing to be loud, not wanting to put up with his kidnapper.

Ottoman jammed the gun into Egypt's hip. "Ya want ta be able ta walk?" he threatened.

Egypt stopped struggling and glared at Ottoman's back. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I need ta fetch someone." Ottoman tucked the gun into his belt before he pushed a door open.

Greece stared at his attacker in horror. "What are you doing here?" he croaked.

"I came ta get ya." Ottoman unhooked Greece from the monitors. Grabbing the nation's arm, he hoisted him over his other shoulder.

O̱ch! (Ow!)" Greece struggled against Ottoman, his bandaged arm bumping against his captor's back.

Ottoman turned and fled from the room, leaving the building quickly as he could.

A/N: Sorry about the late posting, again!

Ottoman thinks everything is a game. He doesn't care about others' pain.

Kalmar's temper is dangerous, it's the reason why so many realms avoid pissing him off.

We are going to continue playing on Microsoft Word until Castor's computer is repaired. And we just discovered that it might take 2-3 weeks for her computer to be fixed. We can do it!

Alright, fun facts . . .

The term "graveyard shift" comes from when they couldn't tell if someone was alive or dead but they still buried them. They tied a bell to the body's wrist and had someone sit in the graveyard to listen for any bells if someone was alive. Can you say 'zombie'?

The term 'wake' comes from when a body would be find lying on the side of the road. The body would be left on the family's table to see if the person would wake up.

"It's raining cats and dogs": Animals used to live on thatched roofs. When it would rain, the roofs would be wet and the animals would slip off.

Aren't idioms funny?

MARCO?!