Hello again guys! Here's more chapter-y goodness
America's secutary knocked on his door. Barely waiting for acknowledgment, he entered.
"Mr. Jones. Smith's people are on the line again. They're asking for those case files."
America looked up from the papers he'd been searching through. "What time is it?"
The secutary pulled up his sleeve to check his watch. "Just after three."
America nodded. "We need to hold them off a bit longer. Has Smith taken a trip to the crazy house yet?"
"I called them, but noone's seen Smith yet," The secutary replied, glancing around the room. It looked like a pigstye... well more of a pigstye than usual, the burger wrappers that were in the bin were starting to overflow, others were strewn across the floor along with discarded paperwork and other rubbish.
"Good."
The secutary's eyes snapped back to his boss.
"They're waiting for the case files before they interrogate him. Depending on how much of a spine that doctor has, they might not get in to see him anyway," America thought aloud. "I'll just have to keep stalling. We don't want them screwing all this up. Not when we're so close to ending it."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Shadowed figures moved about the unidentified space around him. There was an annoying but constant beeping coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. England tried to concentrate on any one thing, but that was quite impossible.
"Hm," came a man's voice. There was a pause filled only by the beeping. "Increase the dosage."
Suddenly a rushing sound filled his ears, drowning out the beeping and anything further the man had to say and he jolted awake. Beside him, a figure jumped in surprise.
"Geez! You scared me!"
England groaned, taking in the world around him, all of it far too bright. He was back in the asylum's common room. The patients and orderlies were back and beside him, boots propped on the table, was Captain Hook.
"Have a nice nap, England?" Captain Hook asked cheerfully. "I guess they sedated you a bit this time, aye?"
England put his head in his hands. "What's goin' on?" he asked.
Hook shrugged. "Not much."
"No, I mean… when did I get back here?"
The captain pursed his lips thoughtfully. "About half an hour ago, I'd say. Just after three."
"Three?" Great England thought. Another night had past. As he fought to remember, he did recall being brought back to his cell after that inexcusable bout of rage. He remembered falling asleep and… meds. Something about increasing the dosage.
"Oh, my bloody head…" he moaned into his hands.
"Arrr, cheer up, England," Hook replied, his mood still far too happy for England.
"Why?" England questioned, lifting his head. "What have I got to be cheery about?"
The pirate scratched his moustache with his hook thoughtfully, taking the question quite seriously. "Well, you've got your health, don't you?"
England considered his aching skull and his tired body. "No."
"Well, you've got your sanity then."
This made England laugh, low and full of self doubt. "Do I? I don't even know anymore. I mean, really," England said as he leaned back in his chair and motioned about the room. "Who see's fairies and Mint bunnies? Answer me that, 'Captain Hook'. Maybe America and the others were right."
Silence greeted him and after about thirty seconds, England turned to look for Hook. His companion was still there, eyes darting –but darting thoughtfully- around the room. England wondered then why Hook was even still speaking with him. England had completely lost it on the pirate and yet Hook had still chosen to return to his company. For some reason he'd come back to the guy who'd blown up on him. Who was he kidding? The pirate was probably a figment of his imagination as well. Still... England cleared his throat.
"Hey, Hook, I'm really sorry, chap," England started as he straightened in his chair. "For yesterday, I mean. I really… don't know what came over me. It was inexcusable, not very gentlemanly at all."
Hook shrugged. "It's all right. It wasn't you."
"No, it wasn't," England agreed, crossing his arms even as Hook dropped his feet to the linoleum floor. For a moment, the pair seemed near mirror images. "Any time before I got here, I would never have reacted like that, never gotten so angry or violent."
"But you've been having these weird thoughts lately," Hook put in knowingly.
"Yeah…" England agreed, looking inquisitively to the pirate beside him.
"This place brings out the better in some people and the worst in others," Hook told him sagely.
'I didn't think that anger -those thoughts- were possible of me at all,' England thought wretchedly.
Suddenly, Hook's eyes went wide and he sat up with excitement. "I know what you have!" he exclaimed. England yelped as he nearly fell back in his chair at the unexpected declaration. A few other patients looked their way, but quickly went back to their own dealings. "So you don't have your health or your mind. And maybe you killed a few people in cold blood. So what? There's still one thing you have got."
England gawked at the madman before him, unable to respond. Hook leaned in as he had the previous day, preparing to conspire with England against the world and whispered, "You've got a way out."
The Country squinted hard at Hook. "What?"
Hook beamed. "Didn't I mention?" he said quietly. "I'm breakin' you out of here! Those landlubbers can't hold you for long."
"You're crazy," England scoffed.
"So they tell me," Hook replied with a devious smile. "But I'm still getting you out. Are you in?"
"Do you have a plan?" England questioned, still disbelieving.
Hook tapped the side of his nose then held out the hand again. "That's need-to-know, England."
"Well, I need to know," England pushed.
"You just think you need to know. What you need is a little faith," Hook countered confidently.
The guy was a pretty smooth talker for one who was supposed to be a rough pirate. England almost wanted to agree. Instead he shook his head.
"What would that accomplish? Say somehow I did get out. Then what? The police would just hunt me down and I'd be put away forever. What I need to do is get in contact with America... or maybe Japan. I've got to convince everyone I'm innocent-"
The captain stood up from his chair slowly, his hook tapping against his pant leg as he looked knowingly and sadly down at England. "You're not going to get anything proven by staying here. They," Hook motioned vaguely towards the windows to indicate the outside world. "Already think they know all they need to know. They're not going to help you. You've got to help yourself now. If you ever want to wake up, England, if you ever wanna snap out of it, you're gonna need to get out."
"You think about it, England," came the voice of Hook. "You think about it hard. The thing about dreams is that you can never really control everything you bring into it. Dreams are an alternative to darkness and stale nothingness. They can let you solve problems you couldn't on the outside, but you can also let in your demons or create new ones." The Pirate looked down at him sternly. "All it takes is an idea to worm its way in. That's when you start to lose yourself. That's when you become what you weren't. Don't let the idea control you."
"What idea?"
"Do you want to get back to reality?" Hook's voice questioned. "Do you?"
"Of course!" England exclaimed.
"Good, good. Then I'll see to it," Hook replied then dashed off, leaving England to wonder what had just happened and what he'd gotten himself into.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"It's... Prussia."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"That makes three."
"Yeah."
"This is disgusting. Some arsehole killer thinks he can get away with murdering countries. It's odd that he knew about us. This is my land and it's totally not cool that someones doing this and he thinks he's better than American law!"
The other chuckled.
"What, dude?"
More chuckling.
"Am I missing something, England? Since when was murder funny?"
"It's just… what you said about the killer thinking he's better than your stupid laws."
"How is that funny?"
"It's funny because he doesn't think he's better than the law."
America's eyes widened as England pulled out his old service revolver and aimed the weapon at the other country's chest with a smirk.
"I know I am!"
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
At the sound of the deafening gunshot, England started into wakefulness. His heart was pounding in his chest. He was still in the common room. Patients and orderlies were looking around in confusion as England buried his head in his hands, ignoring them all and uncaring of how crazy it looked as he began to rock and mutter to himself.
"It wasn't real. It wasn't real."
But it had felt real. It had felt like a memory. He could remember the weight of the revolver in his hand, the blowback as he'd fired. It had felt as real as those –for lack of a better term- visions that he'd gotten when he'd been speaking to Hook the previous day.
"But it can't be real. I'm not a killer!"
A big meaty hand grabbed England by the shoulder and dragged him to his feet. "Stop day dreaming, Kirkland."
It was the way the orderly's voice wavered as he spoke that caught England's attention and for the first time, he really looked around the common room. His thick brows lifted as he realized that the confused looks of patients and orderlies were not directed at him. Whatever sound or jerking motion he'd made when he'd awoken had gone unnoticed. Something else held everyone's attention. And they were worried.
Besides the whimpering of two other patients as the orderlies ushered everyone towards the back door and the cell block, there was a dead silence. The decided lack of common background noise –squeaky wheels on a medicine cart, doctors chatting as they walked the halls, even the buzz of electricity in the bulbs above their heads- put England on edge.
"What's going on?" England asked.
"You didn't hear that? What are you? Deaf?" the orderly scoffed. England thought his name was Frank.
"What?" he pushed.
"An explosion. Sounded like it came from the west wing." the man replied quickly, apparently eager to confide in someone, even a patient. "Either way, we're getting' everyone back to their rooms, so get movin'!"
"Explosion?" England echoed as the orderly continued to urge him towards the back door and the east wing. England's instincts shouted that something didn't make sense. The back door led to a holding room, a checkpoint between the two wings and the common room. The door to each wing was thick and locked, but if there was an explosion, locks might not matter. The orderlies were taking them towards the source of the explosion.
"I don't think we should be going that way, Frank," England said, hoping he remembered the man's name correctly. The orderly snorted and pulled him forward like a frustrated parent dragging his misbehaving child. "I'm serious. We should be keeping everyone here until we are told what is going on out there."
Frank scoffed. "What's this 'we', Kirkland? You are a patient-"
"I have been trained by the SAS. Trust me, this is not a good plan. For all you know, the checkpoint is compromised. You know better than me these patients will not let a chance to escape pass them by. There could be a gas leak or-" England stopped when he realized another orderly had beaten them to the door and was already sliding out his key and pulling open the door.
"No!" England shouted, but too late.
Through the open door came a flood of smoke, black and thick. Proving his ineptitude, the orderly at the door gave a frustrated cough and opened the door further, looking for the origin. Already having overtaken the checkpoint room, more smoke streamed into the common room, seeking a new domain.
England coughed and pulled Frank towards the floor and the cleaner air as everyone in the room began to panic.
"Bloody hell! Close the door and everybody get down on the floor!" England shouted.
Only a few, including the orderly at the door paid him any heed. Everyone else began running about like chickens with their heads cut off, patients panicking and trying to hide or escape and orderlies attempting to maintain control in the smoky chaos. Somebody must have gone floundering to a wall and hit a switch for the lights went out, leaving only a few small streams of light through the closed window shades from the setting sun. England was surprised it was evening already. How could he have slept so long? What had they been sedating him with?
England sighed then noted his orderly was still there, looking quite overwhelmed.
'Well now we know he's more of a taking orders guy than a leader.' Truthfully this was more useful, as long as he started taking England's orders.
"How many people in the west wing?" he questioned.
"Wha-? Oh, uh, not many. It's all offices and therapy rooms down there. And most of the doctors are gone for the day, you know that."
England did not.
"So there's nothing down there that might have… exploded on its own? A lab? Kitchen? Garage maybe?"
"No," the orderly answered with a helpless shake of his head. "Yer not even allowed ta' light a fag in 'ere. This place is supposed to be safe as houses."
"Then something deliberate is goin' on," he concluded. "Look, we've got to get everyone out of here. They're in danger. We've got to get them out and us to a phone. Call the police and the fire department."
The orderly looked about to agree when a shadow past over his face. "No way. It's not secure out there! Every person in here is a danger to the community. Murderers, molesters, terrorists… Nuh uh. I'm not lettin' you lot run free," the orderly replied, but he was choking on the thickening black smoke that was still seeping through the cracks in the back door.
"They don't deserve to suffocate," England countered. "Besides, this is a place for the criminally insane. Out there you're gonna have a lobby that is locked and past that will be a gated perimeter, right? Your job is to protect these people and right now, that-" England stabbed a finger towards the back door. "...whatever's goin' on out there is what they need protecting from."
The orderly hesitated, stunned by England's emphatic speech. Apparently he wasn't used to speaking to patients who could logically debate an issue. His eyes were big as he ran through the consequences of doing what a convicted killer told him. In the end, the orderly moved to the front door.
"Everyone please come this way. We will exit to the lobby now," the orderly commanded, shouting over the chatter and the smoke alarm that had only just begun to sound.
Squinting thought the smoke and breathing through his shirt, England helped to usher several people towards the opening door. He was about to go himself when a pair of hands clapped him on the shoulders and spun him around. It took him a moment in the dark, but his eyes widened when he recognized Captain Hook, who he could have sworn had not been in the room when this whole thing started.
"Hook? Where did you come from?"
"Not important. Not at all," Hook buzzed. "What is important is that we hurry!"
With a strong yank, England was pulled several steps towards the back door before he could twist free.
"Whoa, what are you doing?"
Hook looked at him, puzzled by the question. "Escaping. And you said you wanted in!"
"What?" England looked in horror towards the smoking door. "No, not like this-"
"England, this is it! Our chance. Another's unlikely to arise any time soon after this," Hook urged. He stepped in, putting his face uncomfortably close as if he was about to reveal the secret of the universe and pointed to the back door. "Out there is the truth. Facts and evidence and… facts! You can either go with me out the east wing or stay here, let them pump you full of ideas and lies 'til you become the person they all think you are."
England hesitated. This was bad. Convicted or not, he would get into big trouble for breaking out. But on the other hand no answers seemed forthcoming in here.
"Fine," England conceded.
"Good!" Hook almost giggled with excitement as he charged for the back door. England followed close behind lest he lose sight of the man.
"Is that all of them?"
England barely heard the question over the blaring fire alarm and he glanced back to the front of the common room where he could barely make out two figures partly silhouetted in the open doorway.
"I think so," said a second voice. "I'll do one more sweep. Can't see a damn thing in this smoke. Where's the lights?"
Behind England, Hook had started making his way down a hallway, "Ya coming?"
England couldn't see him through the smoke, so he followed the pirate's voice.
"Hold your breath," Hook exclaimed through the darkness. The air was thick with a blanket of smoke.
What in gods name had Hook done to get so much smoke? There had to be a fire blazing somewhere. Rubber burned pretty thick, but it didn't smell quite like this.
"Come on, England! We're not out yet!"
Still filled with doubt, England chased after Hook who tore down the hallway as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. Luckily no one else seemed to be in the hall. The east wing, England knew, was three stories of cell blocks. They seemed vacant now and England had to wonder where all the residents were. Only a very few had been in the common room. The rest were probably in the cafeteria. Or out in the yard for their last allowance of sunlight for the day.
"Is that why you planned for this to happen now?" England questioned as Hook led them to a staircase behind a door. "So there'd be minimal staff and patient witnesses?"
As the door creaked open, Hook paused to look quizzically back at England. "You think I did this?"
England frowned, taken aback. "You didn't?"
"Pfft! No," Hook laughed as he turned and dashed for the stairs. "I'm just rollin' with the punches!"
They reached the second floor and kept going.
"But you said you had a plan!"
"My plan was to bribe an orderly! Not to blow a hole in the wall and have a team of gunman come in!"
"You saw people with guns?" England exclaimed.
"There were three guys in black. They were lookin' for someone." Hook said "I don't know what you're involved in, England, but it's a little too high profile for me!"
"Me?" England questioned. "They were looking for me?"
"Didn't I mention that?"
"No!"
England's mind spun even as he and Hook whirled around to ascend the final staircase. He hardly noticed as they past the door labeled '3' in favor of one that wasn't labeled at all and entered a narrow staff hallway.
Men with guns and explosives had blown their way into a mental institution to find him? Why?
"Look behind those crates, there should be some clothes there" Hook said, interrupting the country's thoughts.
Sure enough there was a bag with a pair of folded up pants and a white collared shirt.
"Get 'em on, you don't want anyone spotting you after you escape."
England wanted to argue that they didn't have time, that there were men with guns and hospital staff all around who could walk in on them at any time, but Hook was right. Quickly he changed into the black pants –a little too large for him- and tossed on the white collared shirt over his loose hospital shirt. He snagged the pair of shoes from the bag and shoved them on with abandon. With a triumphant smile, Hook took off again so fast, England fell behind. He heard the sound of a door opening from around the corner, when he turn he saw the one that was used. He burst through the door and was met by blinding light from a floodlight. He was on the roof, three stories high, and it was night. He spotted Captain Hook.
Hook ushered England out of the light and towards the edge of the roof.
"Hook," England called over the blare of the fire alarm sirens. If it had been another time, England might have scoffed at the poor positioning of the louder fire alarm on the roof of the building. Now he had a more pressing question. "Why are we over here? The fire escape's on the other side!"
"We're not using the fire escape," Hook replied.
"Why the hell not?" England questioned nervously as he peered over the edge. A gust of wind picked up out of nowhere as if trying to urge the two men over the side and to their deaths. England shuffled back a bit and began buttoning his shirt. Hook scoffed at him as if it were obvious.
"Well 1) they're more likely to be watchin' that and 2) it's on the wrong side of the building. Look." Hook crouched at the edge and pointed downwards and towards their right. "Over there is where those intruders blew up our little asylum. I'm willing to bet over there is also how they go on the premises."
"A hole in the fence," England concluded.
"Exactly. They gave us our way out."
England had to admit, he was impressed. Hook had a much more logical mind than he gave him credit for. And it was so simple a deduction he was almost ashamed that he himself had been too wrapped up in his own thoughts to think of it.
"Ok, then. How are we getting off the roof?"
Hook looked up at him with a grin then pointed to a three inch wide metal pipe that had been bolted into the brick wall. England swallowed hard. The pipe was probably just a casing for electrical wiring. The bolts weren't made to support the weight of a grown man. Unfortunately England didn't have any better ideas. The brick wall had no other handholds.
England took a deep breath. "All right, but one at a time. It won't hold the pair of us."
Hook grinned wider, like a child who'd just been told he could play in the big kid playground and swung his legs over the side. "Me first!"
With a little too much gusto Hook grabbed the pipe and slid off the side. Panicked at Hook's lack of concern for his own well being and lack of consideration for the fragility of the bolts that had to survive both Hook's and England's descent, England dropped to his belly and grabbed the pipe to support it.
"Be careful!" England scolded. But the pipe didn't move an inch, as if there was nothing on it. Maybe the pipe was stronger than it looked
Hook's climb took only a minute and before England really wanted it to be, it was his turn.
"Why do I let myself get talked into these things?" he questioned as the pipe shifted. Beneath him, Hook huffed impatiently.
"Come on. Come on!"
England ignored him. He was still two stories up and the last thing he wanted was to let his mind wander or for his hurrying to-
Beneath him, a pair of bolts groaned unhappily and pulled part way out of the cement between the bricks. England gasped and clung harder to the pipe, frozen.
"Careful!" Hook called.
"Not helping, Captain!" England shouted back. For a moment he remained quite still, getting his wits about him, and then he started to slide down again. He'd gotten only another meter when two of the bolts snapped. With a low reverberating groan, the pipe pulled away from the wall, first only by half a dozen centimeters, then, as more bolts gave way, it broke away further and further. England shouted in surprise as the pipe bent, the cables inside snapped, and the ground came up to meet him far too fast.
For the last story The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northen Ireland was in free fall. His only consolation was that the cables had lowered him that extra half story before they broke and that he would be landing on beaten down soil instead of cement. Still, he hit the ground hard and even though he bent his knees and dropped into a shoulder roll to absorb the impact, it still hurt like hell.
His shout of pain echoed loudly and as he lay on his back, clasping his ankle, he realized that the alarm had been silenced and all floodlights in the area had gone off. Hook appeared above him.
"I guess we know what kinda cables that pipe was hiding, eh?" Hook held out a helping hand. "We gotta go. We've got more time, but less time too. And since we didn't have any time to begin with, I guess it all evens out to nothing, huh?"
England clasped the offered hand and let Hook pull him to his feet. "I'm fine, thanks," England grumbled, keeping his weight off his twisted ankle. He was pretty sure he could still walk, but it hurt like hell.
"Yes, good, now we can go!" Hook hissed. With a tug that set England stumbling, Hook hurried ahead leaving England to limp after him as quickly as he was able.
They reached the fence and found the hole quickly. It had been a professional job. Wire cutters had sliced a pull back gap in the two layers of chain link fence. After he'd climbed through, he dared a look over his shoulder. Even in the darkness of the night, England could still see the seven foot hole in the eerily dark east wing. The whole section had lost power it seemed. Probably the whole building, though he couldn't tell from there. He just hoped the telephone lines were still intact and that Frank had called for help by now.
He only spared another moment before turning to wear he last saw his companion while saying "Well, I gu- Hook?"
The pirate had vanished! The country glanced around, looking for some sign of the captain but saw none. England sighed and knowing he had no other choice unless he wanted to be discovered, limped off into the night.
Erm, basically I had to have Captain Hook for all that because (frankly) the flying mint bunny wouldn't have worked... Hook was the only one I felt could fit the role of cryptic information giver and escape artist. I still don't like how I overused him.
Anyways, noone answered my questions *sob*, although, I did update super-quick so noone really had a chance. So here are the questions again. With a bounus added question:
1. Would you prefer me to write out the accents as I've been doing or just write the words normally? Like "have" instead of "'ave" for France.
2. I've been thinking about bringing in some more characters from the series, but there's so many countries to choose from. Who do you want to see?
And
3. What's your take on the story so far?
Reviews quell the Flying Mint Bunny's murderous rage. (I'm sure he's not as innocent as he seems :) ).