**Sisko and Blue take over the Fangirl AN- Day 32**

SEK: Long time, no update! Sorry peeps, but MW was actually on a trip to New York for a weekend and she had to write this oneshot . .

BFTL: SISKO! WHEN IS WOLFIE COMING BACK TO THE AN? IT'S SO HARD TO WRITE THESE THINGS!

SEK: Here's the thing, she is actually enjoying watching us suffer through writing these. Those she promises to return once we hit 100 reviews (and with the freaking large number we're thankfully at now, that shalln't be long).

BFTL: Good. And yeah, this feels like another off chapter for some unknown reasons. But don't forget the review! If you don't like the chapter or where the story's going, then tell us so that we can get back on track!

Important Message for the readers of Love Suck: Due to the fact that LS was written in second person and it goes against site rules, someone reported it and the FF admins removed it. I was unfortunately in NYC at the time and had my mind on other things like shopping. But the series is still being continued on deviantArt and everyone's request is going to be fulfilled. Link to our account is in our profile.

Chapter Summary: With the long await return of a well liked character, Sherry makes some discoveries of her own. Meanwhile, Sadiq and the Voice meet again.

Warnings: The usual strong language, sexual themes, yaoi, mentioned yuri, and very slight OC X canon

Disclaimer: We do not own Hetalia and the other fandoms mentioned in this chapter. We do, however, own the poem used.

~Chapter 9~

The Romance of Frank Sinatra

"I love you, and because I love you, I would sooner have you hate me for telling you the truth than adore me for telling you lies..."

-Pietro Aretino, Italian Author

Cycle 11: Tuesday

" . . . and that's why I think you're hiding something from me," Germany finished at last. It was after school and I should have been making my way to the student council room, but guess who had to show his face? That's right, Mr. Constipation. In the middle of the hallway, the blond had grabbed my arm and demanded that he talked to me. By that, he had meant to list off every strange thing I did yesterday to finish with that fateful sentence.

Remembering the little suicide incident we had two cycles ago, I decided that it would be morally wiser to just grin and bear through it. That is, until the time for my ingenious plan was at its dawn.

I tugged on my scarf, glad that I at least had an ingenious plan on hand. I only wish that it wasn't so warm inside. Remember how Sadiq kind of choked me last night? Well the consequence had been me waking up to find a severely you-must-obviously-be-abused bruise. So a scarf it was until the cursed thing went away.

"I understand Germany," I cheerfully chirped. The time for my plan was now. "But I want to talk to you about something important." The blond raised an eyebrow as I grabbed his arm and yanked his ear to my lips. "I heard that Taiwan is a straghtie in the closet." Yeah, yeah total lie but it was the only way to get him away without driving him over the edge.

He gave me a criticizing side glance. "What does that have to do with me?" he demanded. "There is nothing wrong with wanting to be in the closet."

"I heard she has a crush on you," I hinted, winking at him. A deep blush tinted his cheeks at the very thought. "I say that you just spend a little extra time with her this week, get her used to the idea of being hetrosexual and when the prom's over you can come back to me- that is, if you want too."

Instead of the devious reaction I was aiming for, the blond frown. Hopeless distress glinted in his eyes. He asked, "Seychelles, are you trying to break up with me?" Shit.

Sweat dropped down my back. Shit, that was not the response I wanted. Thinking like Seychelles, I quickly pecked his cheek. "Of course not silly," I giggled, trying to act cute. Truthfully, I think that I was acting like a total seventh-grader-trying-to-be-a-slut, but who was I to judge? "I'm just trying to be a good person and possibly make some girl's night."

His look was still condescending. I flashed a bright smile. "Please? For me?"

Germany groaned. "Fine. But are you really okay with going to the prom by yourself?"

"I'll find a friend to go with." I started pushing him down the hall. "Now go and find her!"

He waved me off. "I'm going, I'm going." A bubble of happiness welled in my gut as he ran off to do what he was told. If anyone here had the option of dating a Hetalia character, chose Germany. He is such a sucker for the ladies; he would listen and obey every single command you give like. . . Like the gentleman England always tried to be.

Smiling to myself, I started to walk to the student council room. All's well that ends-

"How did you know that Taiwan is straight?"

I jumped and moved into kung-fu tiger stance. To my left was Ari leaning against the wall as he idly pet his puffin. A cool, but confused look was on his gorgeous face. My heart thumped loudly in my chest and my face turned red. I released my pose and laughed nervously. "I'm sorry," I said. "I just didn't see you there . . ."

Ari sighed. "Can you just answer my question?" he asked, annoyed.

I blinked. "What question?"

He groaned and banged his head against the wall. Under his breath, he muttered something about the female race in general being stupid. He repeated, "How did you know that Taiwan is straight? She's extremely careful about making sure that no one knows that."

In my mind, I was fist pumping. Boo-yah! Now Germany wouldn't freak out because I was wrong! But on the darker side, I had to explain how I knew that. I scratched the back of my head. " . . . She, um . . .told me?"

Before the Icelandic man could reply, two small arms wrapped themselves around my waist. "Good afternoon Seychelles!" Italy sang, dancing around me as though I was a goddess. Which would be totally awesome. I could frolic across Tokyo in a Sailor suit. "Are we going to start now?" he asked, looking up at me brightly.

"Start?" It took a second for me to realize what he was talking about. Then (to Ari's utter confusion), I smiled. "Of course I am! Have you at least tried talking to Prussia today?"

As Italy spilled a long, overly detailed story about how he said hello during breakfast that morning, the silver haired man kicked off the wall. "What are you two planning?" he asked, rightfully expecting the worst.

I opened my mouth, ready to tell him every detail of our deal, but a wary feeling stopped me. It was just a small voice, ordering me to be more careful with whom I chose to trust. And frankly, after the whole heart break incident, I did not feel ready to trust him. Italy, however, thought otherwise. Before I could slap a hand over his pie hole, the little Italian man was telling him everything he wanted to know and more. I facepalmed, already hearing the Icelandic telling me that it was total bullshit.

But Ari was just one of those people you can never predict.

"That's rather interesting," he said thoughtfully, habitually petting his puffin. "Do you two have any plans on how you're going to turn Prussia gay?" I gave him a confused look. He was going to help me?

Italy smiled, chirping, "Nope! I'm just listening to everything Seychelles tells me to do!"

The silver man looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "So what is your plan?" he asked, trying to sound as though he could care less.

You know, I had not really thought about it. I went to sleep last night the moment I laid down on my bed. Then during school, all I could do was doodle and scold myself for nearly going all Hooker-Sherry on Sadiq last night. Trying to give Italy a love life was the last thing on my mind.

So I just said the first speech that came to me. "My plan is a simple one," I recited noblely. "My plan is love. If we try hard enough, love will be the only weapon we will need. Love shall be the dove's wings that flies us to our-"

"You have no idea what the hell you're doing, don't you?" I glared at him. He just had to say that, didn't he? I was going to snap at him for ruining my speech, but his violet eyes had a no nonsense glint to them. I huffed. And I love him why?

Oh yeah, because when he liked me, he was such an adorable little chibi! Just thinking about his forever lost smile made me collapse into a fangasm. A grin made of content, goofy, and smug feelings stretched over my face.

Luckily for me, Ari did not notice. Instead, he placed a sure hand on Italy's shoulder. "It seems as though I'm going to have to give you two a hand with this," he said simply.

The brunette squealed, hugged him, and kissed his cheeks. "Thank you!" He yelled, ignoring Ari's objections to being intimately touched. ""Thank you very much!" He wrapped his legs around his waist in a glomp and continued kissing him.

I tried not to laugh when the pale one shot me a desperate look. "Help me," he mouthed, trying to peel the love leech away. The overall scene was pitiful.

I laughed, adjusting the bag on my shoulder. "I think I'll just leave you two-"

"Get off, Italy." Said man jumped away, crying and standing in an erect soldier's stance. I silently cursed, realizing that Sadiq was standing just a few feet from us, rolling his eyes and looking very annoyed. For the first time in like, forever, he was not wearing any obnoxious pink accessories. The idea of him hating Poland now made my heart ache. And they were such a cute couple . . .

Ari smoothed his hair and straightened his blazer. His forever stoic mask covered up most of the embarrassment from his face. Still, there was a slight red tint in his cheeks. "Thanks Pops," he muttered, dusting off his pajama pants. "So, um . . . what are you doing here?"

Sadiq shrugged, knocking down the hood to his green hoodie. "Just wandering around."

A random thought occurred to me. Since he no longer had to worry about keeping his boyfriend happy, he had all the time in the world to be stalking me. "Well that's just fucking great," I thought irritably. "I bet he even has cameras in the shower. Maybe Liechtenstein would let me use hers. . ."

My mentor gained his mature stature and propped arms akimbo. Fists on his hips, that kind of makes him sound like a professional belly dancer. Trying to push that half-disturbing-half-sexy image from my mental theater, I zoned in on what he was saying. "Italy, if Iceland is going to offer his services to you, you have to respect his personal space," he scolded, sounding like a great parent. Which he probably was. I mean, he had to raise both Greece and TRNC. "Understand?"

The smaller one pouted, large orbs brimming with uncried tears. "But what's so wrong with hugs?" he whimpered, lower lip trembling.

A depressed aura surrounded the Nordic. "You're just so strong," he muttered, a cold hand searching his abdominal for abs that weren't there. "Even someone as lazy as you is so much stronger than me . . ."

Aw! "He even did that in one of the Christmas strips," I silently squealed. If you did not find that cute then you have no heart! I efficiently suppressed my inner fangirl and patted a sure hand on his back. "Don't worry," I said brightly. "I bet you'll get stronger someday."

For the first time in a long while, Ari smiled kindly at me. "Thanks Seychelles." In returned I copied his smile, a warm feeling bubbling in my stomach. I could have lived in that moment forever.

Then Sadiq happened.

"Seychelles, don't you have to go help France and England today?" he demanded, glaring at my insolent ways. Was it just me or was he in a pissier mood than usual?

I ground my teeth together, reminding myself not to lash out at him. "I nearly forgot," I replied emotionally, as if I was reciting it from a piece of paper. "Thank you for reminding me, Turkey. I better go do that now."

In the same manner, he replied, "Here, let me come with you, Seychelles. I have to do something on that side of the school anyways." Ari gave us an odd look as we strutted away together. He muttered something about Pops turning into a weirdo before resuming his original mission.

It was not until we turned the corner did both of us roll our eyes and groan. "What the hell were you doing?" Sadiq demanded, giving me the stink eye.

"I could ask you the same thing," I snapped easily. Just as quickly, I realized that it was not the time to be arguing with him. We had one cycle after this; we had to make the best of now. As he stretched his arms, simmering with unmentioned anger, I sighed in defeat. "You're more pissed than usual," I said bluntly. "Did something happen?"

Sadiq was turning into the rather talkative person since he actually decided to tell me. "Yeah, that stupid Poland guy keeps on harassing me," he said. "Every single time I was trying to get some alone time, he would just pop out of nowhere and try talking to me." He groaned again. "God I hate him."

A sick feeling bubbled in my stomach. Now that they were no longer a couple, I was actually starting to miss the crack. It seemed as though every time Sadiq wasn't with me (or stalking me), he was with Poland.

Oh, but his rant was far from over.

"And something really strange happened when I got up this morning," he continued unaware of my aching heart. "I discovered that one of my dresser drawers was filled with nothing but obnoxious pink accessories. I don't even want to know why the hell I had that . . ."

By now, I was extremely grateful that the student council room was upon us. Forcing a fake smile, I practically sprinted to the large door. My mentor merely rolled his eyes and continued his calm walking.

"Well it was nice talking to you," I stated briskly, a hand already on the knob. "I'll see you later."

He nodded, leaning against the wall opposite of me. "I'll be out here." He took out a fancy IPod (product placement!) and stuck the white buds into his ears.

My visage was that of disbelief. "He mustn't have anything better to do," I figured, dropping the subject. My eyes flickered to his Apple product. "At least he's not obsessing over that watch anymore." Without another delay, I went inside.

I did not make it past the doorway. Luckily, the two blondes were not in the middle of a make-out-sex secession. No, they were actually doing something mildly productive. I stared in shock as books of every color and size were scattered like a two foot deep ocean at my feet. France and England were on their knees, laboriously stacking them into neat piles.

The Brit- not bothering looking at me -gave his usual greeting. "Hello Seychelles, how has your day been?"

"What happened here?" I asked, searching for a pathway to walk on. The door was still open (If I closed it, there would be no place left for me to stand) and Sadiq was peering in at us curiously. "Why are there books everywhere?"

Green eyes shone with embarrassment as his struggled to find a way to explain. But where the world fails at explanations, the French are always there to be blunt. "We were having sex yesterday and we knocked over the bookshelf," he explained, smiling fondly. "We're just now getting around to cleaning it up."

Mimicking his smile, I looked around the room. The wall directly beside the door had a large, wood book shelf. Most of said shelves were emptied. "Hm, I never noticed that there," I commented dryly. "But I suppose that I need to help you two clean it up."

France nodded. "That would be greatly appreciated, dear. Just step on the Twilight books to get over here."

"Twilight books?" I repeated, knitting my eyebrows together. There was a straight line of the four cursed objects leading from the door to the clear area. "Why are these here?"

"America gave them to me," England mumbled, still red and flustered from his boyfriend's explanation. "He said that they would be the next Harry Potter. So far, the only useful purpose they have is being our stepping stones in and out of this place."

The perverted smile on my face grew wider. Twilight was shit in this universe as well!Oh my God, that is one of the greatest things I've heard in a while. I was starting to think that whatever the norm in the real world would be the extremities in this one and vise versa. Practically jumping in joy, I pulled my bag closer to myself and started using the 'stepping stones'. That felt so good, you people need to try it as well. Just go to the bookstore and step on them; I'm sure the employees wouldn't mind.

"So what do you two need me to do?" I asked, squishing the flower on the New Moon cover.

England pointed to their stacks of books. "Right now we're organizing them by author's last name."

On clear ground, I looked over our Herculean task. "Do we really have to?" I moaned, already feeling my back ache from hard work. "Wouldn't it just be easier to stick them on the shelves in random order like normal people?"

"That's what I told him," France piped, ignoring the other blond's angry glare. "But apparently we have to be able to find every book easily." With that, I resigned myself to start my job. Going onto my hands and feet, I picked up a book (Jane Eyre) and placed it on the right part of the stack.

"Well having a little bit more help would be greatly appreciated," England snapped, sounding just as pissed as Sadiq.

France sighed, "Yes I know." For a few tedious minutes, the only sound was us taking a book and placing it in the right spot. Many times I got distracted, flipping to a random page and reading a few sentences. Then Mr. Stick-In-The-Mud would demand that I gain an attention span and get back to work.

"Wait, I have an idea." The Brit and I paused and we rolled our eyes. Irritably, he asked what the other might possibly be thinking. "I know someone who owes me a favor," France said mischievously, quirking his suggestive eyebrows. Cupping his mouth, he called out to the open doorway, "Turkey! I can see you out there! Come in and help us!"

I looked out to the hall to see said man pressed his lips together in distaste. I expected him to object, claim that he had better things to do. But instead, he moved away from the wall and took his headphones out of his ears. "Sure thing," he said nonchalantly. Coolly, he walked over the stupid romance books that shall not be named as they were meant to be trampled. "I did give you my word."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, like you always keep your word."

I ignored his hateful look as France smiled like a sleaze bag. "It's nice to have you here," he said. "You will, of course, be coming in to help us all week, my little bunny and I need the help, non?"

As Sadiq frowned in annoyance, the uke realized where he was going and quickly nodded. "It's rather busy with the prom this Thursday," he explained. "It would be greatly appreciated if you were here to help us and Seychelles." I raised an eyebrow. Why the hell did he over exaggerated the 'and'? Were they planning something?

If the Turk noticed it, the he feigned ignorance. "That is perfectly fine with me. It's not as though I have anything better to do."

I wanted to take the hard cover copy of Notre Dame de Paris and smash my head into it. Great, now I would have to spend even more time with him. "What if I really do kiss him?" I wondered, dark face turning into a deep red. "Oh God, I'm going to die!"

During my irrational fretting, the three males had completely engulfed themselves in a conversation. Topic of choice? Boyfriends. ". . . So you haven't dated anyone since then?" England asked, taking careful note of the mentor's statement. Crap, I feel as though I missed something extremely important.

Sadiq shook his head. "Never saw the point," he replied. "But what about you two? Have you guys been doing well?"

France smiled enthusiastically. "Of course we have!" He lied, flouncing over to me. Seychelles's papa wrapped two strong arms around me, squeezing me as tightly as China squeezes his Hello Kitty doll. "My daughter made a beautiful decision to set us up together!"

Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Hold it right there, mister! Did the hormone high Frenchie just say what I just think he just said? Did he literally confirm that Seychelles, the bane of every Hetalia fangirls' existence, created the 'FrUk' in the first place?

What the fuck is this sorcery!

Seriously, what the fuck?

My mind shut down, rendering me completely useless. I laid there in my 'papa's' arms, unable to move my limbs. My brain was on error mode that only a Geek Squad dude could fix it. I felt someone poke my cheek. "My dear, are you alright?" Someone asked, sounding concerned.

"Maybe we should take her to Nurse Pangaea," another man suggested.

Surprisingly, Sadiq's voice was the only one I was able to immediately identify. "She'll be fine," he said. "Just place her in a corner and she'll snap out of it."

Brain slowly turning back into a virgin (you know, cause I'm un-fucking it?), my lips moved and started forming words. "No, no, I'm fine. I just need to, um, get some air."

"Sadiq should take you!" France suggested quickly as England forced said man to his feet. The other did the same with me. My legs felt weak and ready to collapse at any moment. "I don't think you two talk to each other much so this will be a great opportunity to bond!"

"That won't be necessary," Sadiq declined, backing away from the thick eyebrows. His honey eyes flashed to me, begging for some help. I, meanwhile, was at a loss of what I should do. "We've had our fair share of talking, you should take her, England."

I nodded in agreement. "Um, yes, um . . ." You want to know what happened next? Well after a long dry spell, Seychelles was kicking her butt back into gear and Hooker-Sherry was back in commission.

My whole body drowned in the gross numb feeling as I purposefully fell into the British man's toned chest. "No, can you take me, England?" I asked, sounding like a kawaii desu Mary-Sue OC with no spine that you would find in an episode of Ouran Highschool Host Club. With an adorable pout, "I would feel much safer if you were to take me."

On the inside, I was sighing in relief. "Thank you so much, Seychelles!"

"Why the hell did you just freeze up like that?" The nation demanded. Her voice, mostly likely since she was concentrating on convincing England to take me. "What was so significant about that?"

"I just didn't see it coming," I replied honestly. "Everyone believes that you are against the yaoi." She did not answer even though she was still talking on the outside. Looking back, I realized that it was because I was reminding her of the fandom that hated her.

Eventually, France swooped in and saved our ass(es). "I think Seychelles is right," he said smoothly. A look of relief washed over Sadiq's face. "Besides-" he wrapped a slimy arm around his shoulder. "-I do believe that Turkey and I need to have a little talk."

Whatever this 'talk' was about, England caught on very quickly. "You two go do that," he said, supporting my on his hard shoulder. "I'll be back soon, okay?" He carefully guided me over the books, making sure that I stepped on the worthless crap. At this point, Seychelles's hold on me was disappearing and I could move again. But thinking back to all those shitty OC X Canon stories, I decided to continue with the weak act.

The last thing I saw before we entered the hallway was Sadiq's oddly impressed look. He had no idea Seychelles and I were in contact; he fully believed that I came up with that all by myself. In the long run, it would probably be better that way.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" England asked as he half carried me down the hallway. Green eyes were blazing with concern as I limped beside him. Unlike all the other times before, his concern did not have my cheeks afire. Maybe it was because I was so used to it. Perhaps it was because of my love for Ari.

Whatever it was, it helped to keep my cool.

"I feel very light headed and the world is spinning," I moaned, sounding as weak as possible. Yeah, the sex appeal Seychelles had was gone, but at this point I didn't think England would see anything 'sexy' even if it was Ukraine pole dancing shirtless.

As expected, his worry was already on max. "If you're light headed, then I should carry you," he stated before scooping me safely into his arms bridal style. An image of Hungary doing the exact same thing to Austria came to mind. Well, Hetalia does have the best fanart.

I wish people would draw me some of that.

Anyways, I took the opportunity to snuggle closer to his chest, admiring how toned and warm it was. I felt sheltered, like a precious jewel under high security. I allowed myself to drift in the cherished warmth of it for a moment. Then Sir. Eyebrows had to talk.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked, looking down at me with honor and chastity. God, that sounded so cheesy. I slowly nodded, wondering what he had to tell me. What he did was not very welcomed. "Even though you consider France to be your father, I just want you to know Seychelles that I also look at you as my own daughter."

I wanted to facepalm so badly. Well that was just freaking fantastic! "Seychelles, what the hell am I supposed to say to that?" I asked. Naturally, she did not answer. "Coward!"

Faking a cough, I buried my face in my hands, asking, "And what brought this confession on?"

"Oh, um . . ." England took an arm from under me to scratch his nose. For the instant the support was gone, I was impressed that he was able to hold me with one arm. Then I remembered that I was not in my chubby normal body and in one of a supermodel. He gathered his words and explained, "France and I are, um, trying something new this week and I just wanted to let you know that it is because we both love you equally."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Are you two getting divorced or something?" I demanded.

"What?"

"That kind of sounded like the opening words to a divorce battle."

Before he had any chance to deny it, a strong song met our ears. The mellifluous words drifted down the halls and met our ears. We both looked around for its source, caught in its high. "That sounds beautiful," I breathed. "Who is that?"

England shrugged. "I don't know, but we really should be getting you to the infirmary."

I shook my head. "No, let's go look for it." When he frowned, I pleaded a smile. "Pretty please?"

At last he sighed. "Fine but if you start to feel sick at all, just tell me and I'll take you to Nurse Pangaea." We meandered to the source, searching for its beautiful singer. After a couple more verses, we found him in the bar's general area.

It was Italy, a guitar in his hand and singing with earnest joy. A small crowd was watching him, but one really stood out: Prussia. His arms were folded over his chest and his large foot was tapping to the beat. An appreciative look was on the most awesome character's face.

Smiling, my eyes traveled to Ari. He was standing off to the side like us. He leaned against the wall, smirking in cool victory. "Iceland, did you do this?" I asked eagerly.

As England asked what he had to do with this, the man I loved nodded. "Sure did." A prideful look glinted in his oddly colored eyes as he explained, "After much discussion, Italy agreed that the quickest way to a man's heart was though beauty and I suggested that he sang a song." Not that I was complaining or anything, but as a Hetalia fangirl, I would have thought that Italy would have sang his own "Germany" song.

Remember that? Good times, good times.

England huffed, "Well that explains why it's Frank Sinatra."

I gave him a confused look. "Who's that guy?" The Brit gave me a heart shattering look, as if to ask 'how the hell do you not know who he is?'

But the song was ending and the small audience was giving an enthusiastic round of applause. The singer smiled cutely, looking up at his crush. "Vee, did you like it Prussia?" he asked, rubbing his instrument in comfort.

The albino smiled and laughed his signature 'Keseseses'. "That's great, Italy-dear!" He congratulated, patting him strongly on the back. Ari and I exchanged looks. If you called a guy 'dear' you were definitely gay. "You should do a duet with Liechtenstein one of these days!" We both silently groaned. Then again, that was part of his character profile.

The Prussian turned to his girlfriend. "Hey! You two should do one now!" He said. Gently, he grabbed her arm and pulled onto the stage area. The poor blond was red and embarrassed. Her skinny legs were shaking nervously as she looked at the other nations with stage fright. "C'mon hun! Sing the song that awesome guy wrote!" The audience clapped in agreement and encouragement (well, everyone except Belarus, but she's a party pooper).

Liechtenstein looked around in anxiety. For some reason, the 'awesome guy' he mentioned only made her more unsure. "Do you think he'll mind?" she asked.

Her boyfriend laughed again. "He's awesome so of course he wouldn't!"

England and I were on the edge of our metaphorical seats. While Ari could care less, we both wanted to hear her sing. When the cute German girl saw me (Seychelles) watching, a weak smile appeared and she took a deep breath.

From her small beautiful mouth, a gorgeous song appeared.

"Across the velvet sea,

Against the setting sun,

A soul hides locked away-

Captor on the run.

So sad- it yearns to become

An eagle in the sky

And high up it will go

Far 'way it will fly.

To the place that is my home

To the normal faces,

To the Arms of my love:

The one bright place safest.

Run, run across the ocean

With blessings of the wind.

To the ends of the earth,

There will lie my kin.

Fly, fly- escape from this place

Till the end of all time.

And I shalln't forget her:

The one love of mine.

Run from my captivity,

From that soulless captain.

To the land of my free

There will lie my kin."

I was so enthralled by it that I barely noticed Italy softly strumming his guitar in the background. What tortured, but genius mind wrote that? When she finished, Liechtenstein gave a small bow and ran away before anyone could give any applause. They all still clapped anyways, vainly hoping that she would hear it.

I saw everything I needed to see. I lightly tugged on England's sleeve, telling him that I was feeling dizzy again. Jumping back into parent mode, he started fretting over me and carried me to Nurse Pangaea. I saw Ari wave goodbye before jumping on Italy to not be discouraged.

The walk seemed so very short. In a blink of an eye, the Brit was opening the nurse's office doors and telling her that I was feeling sick. Nurse Pangaea adjusted her green smock and rolled her eyes. "My dear, she's probably just on her period," she announced, loud enough for the whole office to hear. "I'll just give her a heating pad and you can be on her way."

Being the prissy student council president he was, England left willingly, kissing my forehead and telling me to get better soon. His cheeks were red for two reasons. The first being that he was a tsundere and that's what tsunderes do. The second was that every member of the male species did that whenever the menstrual cycle was mentioned.

Nurse Pangaea wasted no time in shoving me to the bathroom with a box of pads. Left alone in there, I was able to check my underwear to see that I my vagina was- in fact -not struck with a case of tuberculosis. Still, I stuck the pad on just to make her happy. Once out, the fat lady forced me to lay on one of the beds with a heating pad over my abdomen.

By the way, I apologize to any male readers for that last paragraph. For the reason why, see two paragraphs ago.

To put it simply, I was bored out of my mind just laying there. Even though I've gone through this every month since hitting puberty in sixth grade, I still have no idea how to react. Yeah, the internet says that we were moody, but I'm always like that. "This is boring!" I complained, knowing quite well that no one cared. Nurse Pangaea had her nose in a Mr. Universe issue and could care less about the ailing.

"Why don't . . . you sleep?" That voice sounded a lot like Vic Mignogna (try saying that three times fast). For the first time, I noticed that Greece was laying in the bed to my left. The tanned man looked extremely tired as he lightly petted a cat curled on his stomach. Were they even allowed to have pets on campus, nonetheless, the infirmary? "It's a good way . . . to pass the time . . ."

"I'm not tired," I returned, staring at him, I noticed the multiple bruises on his face and arms. "What happened to you?" I asked, suddenly very concerned. The only logical explanation I had was that Sadiq got really pissed off and used his long time enemy as a punching bag.

Because it would take too many " . . . " and wasted space to write what he told me, I'll just give a really brief abridged version. But without the card games jokes because that's a different kind of abridging. Totally.

So apparently, Greece was in the middle of his gym class, feeling as sleepy as always. As per tradition, Physical Education Teacher Pangaea had a late student draw a little slip of paper from a bowl and everyone played that activity. It happened to be running. The Greek nation, however, could not stay awake for that long. As he was jogging, he fell into a sleep, collapsed, and was promptly trampled by of students.

So that was what happened. The whole story took around twenty minutes to be told. By the end, I was feeling sleepy myself. Because, as we all know, some fake Swiss studies have shown that sleeping Greeks are contagious. However, before I could talk to him any longer, I finally got a visitor.

"What the hell are you doing here, jackass?" Sadiq demanded, slamming the infirmary doors open. I could not help but to facepalm. Even after knowing this guy for, like, forever, I was still surprised when he did things like these. Especially in character things.

Greece frowned, still petting his cat. "I could . . . ask you . . . the same," he deadpanned nonchalantly.

The Turk marched right up to him and roughly grabbed his collar. "Yeah well you're probably in here because you're a total wimp and wimpiness is incurable!" He accused, completely forgetting about me. I banged my face into the bed (facebed?).

Not that I was jealous or anything (Pfft, me? Jealous?), but I really had to stop him before Greece had his face caved in. "Turkey, would you please calm down?" I asked gently, slightly afraid of his angered look. "I don't think Leonardo diCaprio would like it if you commit first degree manslaughter."

Both of the men looked at me. I knew I made a mistake when Sadiq's already red face grew into dark rouge. "Whoa . . . you told her about . . . Titanic?" Greece asked, raising an eyebrow. " . . . Since when were . . . you straight?"

"I'll be straight when you start drinking five hour energy drinks, jackass," Sadiq snapped, dropping him. I knew I was in big trouble when he could put aside his rivalry with Greece to deal with me. Lifting me by the scruff of my neck, he carried me out of the bed and held me three and a half feet off the ground. "I'm going to be taking Seychelles now, Nurse Pangaea!" He called out, already making his way to the door.

The lady just waved him off, too engrossed in her steroid pumped Arnold Schwarzenegger. "Alright, dear."

"What the hell were you thinking, Sherry?" Sadiq demanded once we were safe in the hallways. He still had yet to drop me. I was afraid he was going to hang me out another window. Yes, I still have not gotten over that yet. "Do you realize that you just did?"

"Um, how about save Greece from your irrational sexual tensions?"

He smacked me. "How about greatly embarrassed me," he said, glaring down at me. "Did it not occurred to your stupid head that I told you a very personal secret?"

That was when the guilt bomb dropped. Even without Mother Nature being a bitch, I felt sick in the stomach. What I told him would be equivalent to everyone in my whole school knowing that I drew pornographic yaoi. I could be in love with it all I want, but it was something I just did not want other people to know. Much softer, I looked down at my dangling feet. "I'm sorry."

I would like to pretend that he did not hear me and that was the reason why he continued ranting. "First Poland wouldn't leave me alone, then France had to suggest that, and now-"

Wait, what? "What did France suggest?" I asked.

The Turk quickly spat, "It's nothing Sherry. When you and England were gone, he asked me how the hypnotism was affecting me and then he turned into a total pervert."

"Like how?"

He promptly dropped me and I hit the hardwood floor was a painful thud! "It's none of your damn business!" He shouted, stress creasing the wrinkles around his eyes. As I rubbed my aching buttocks, the Mediterranean country sighed and rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I get like this every time Greece is nearby."

For once, I decided to be the bigger person. "No, it's my fault," I admitted. "I shouldn't have mentioned the Titanic."

Sadiq looked down at me. He looked so grand with the orange glow of the steadily setting sun shining off his eyes. I gaped at him in awe. Since when did this jerk look so . . . handsome? He even did that comforting hand offering thingy that you only see in lovey-dovey animes. "Well, putting that aside, you did very well today," he congratulated, lifting me back to my feet. "The whole 'feeling weak' thing was genius."

My face turned red when I noticed his happy smile. Yeah, Seychelles did that, not me. "Well, it was necessary," I muttered, trying not to be an attention whore. "But it didn't get us anywhere."

"What do you mean by that?"

I sighed, "England said, and I quote, that he 'loved me like a daughter.'" We were silent for a long moment. We were both disappointed in the results, but neither one of us were going to vocalize it. It would only ruin our earlier victory.

"I think the both of us deserve a quick drink at the bar," Sadiq randomly decided, wrapping a sure arm around my shoulder. The forced smile only proved how hard he was trying to make this a 'happy' situation. When I thought about it, that was rather odd for him. Normally, he would curse at me to try harder.

"I think France's talk with him did something to his head," I thought grimly, allowing myself to be dragged to the place of alcohol.

I suddenly noticed that he was glaring down at me. "That is, if you promise not to get drunk again."

The very thought of my previous intoxication made a shudder run up my spine. "I think I'll pass on it," I said just as the bar's door came into view.

Down the dark steps we went, breaking into the dim glow of the warm place. Like usual, countries socialized as if there was no tomorrow: drinking and playing pool. Sitting at the bar was Ari, cradling a cold glass of beer between his hands. Italy was at his side, sadly bent over a tall glass of wine. My love waved to us, calling out our names.

Smiling, I skipped over to him, taking the free stool next to him. "Iceland, how did Prussia react to the Italy's singing?" I asked immediately, trying to ignore Sadiq's heavy air as he sat next to me. It was uncomfortable- I was sitting between two really hot men. Awkward. "England and I left before we could see it all."

I frowned when he laughed nervously. "That's why Italy is, well, drinking," he explained, patting said man's back. The pitiful one moaned. "Prussia ran after his girlfriend and left him in the dust."

"How can he not like Frank Sinatra?" The Italian wailed, banging his head on the counter. "He is the symbol of a romantic Italian!"

Sadiq gave the bartender a quick order before giving him a raised eyebrow. "Wait. You sang Frank Sinatra songs?" he demanded. When he received a weak nod in response, he swore. "How did that not work? Everyone loves him!"

I rolled my eyes and ordered a drink of water. "Actually, I've never heard of him," I deadpanned. The three countries looked at me as if I was an alien from mars. Once the initial shock passed over, they started muttering to each other about the musical state of Seychelles. "Don't just talk about me as if I'm not here!" I exclaimed, feeling as though I was living in an actual Hetalia moment. Like seriously, I could see something like this happening in the actual anime.

Luckily for me, someone came around and changed the conversation.

Sadly, it was the object of my mentor's hate.

"Like, Turkey-pooh!" Sadiq's eyes went wide as Poland flocked over to us, looking ecstatic and strangely oblivious. His tanned hands gripped his glass tightly, making the object crack. By the time the blond was standing directly behind him, he was trembling in anger.

A drop of fear slicked through me. Sadiq has no memories of ever dating this guy. "What the hell is he going to do?" I wondered, fearing and expecting the worst.

"Where have you, like, been, Turkey?" the Pole asked loudly, waving his hand around in emphasis. "You've totally been avoiding me all day and I thought that you were, like, involved in something sketchy and-" He made the mistake of placing his hand on his ex-lover's back.

"Get the hell away from me!" Sadiq blindly slapped the limb away as he stood. Poor Poland jumped away, a horrified look on his face. Anyone with an ear to listen was focusing their attention on the scene before them with a terrified curiosity. Even Ari's eyes were wide in trepidation. "Never touch me again, jackass," he yelled, unaware of the people around him. "If you do, I'll-"

Suddenly, he gasped and started swaying. A new kind of fear ran through me. I grabbed his hand in a vain attempt to steady him, asking, "Hey, is something wrong?"

"It's nothing," he breathed, placing his free hand on his head. We both barely noticed Bartender Pangaea as she asked him if he needed Nurse Pangaea. "It's just a-ah!" His hand wrangled free from mine and grasped the edge of the counter. He was breathing with difficulty and his eyes were dropping.

At this point, I was too scared to do anything. I watched dumbly as Ari placed a hand on his shoulder, telling the Turk to come with him to the infirmary. Sadiq only shook his precipitating head. "No, its fine, I-" He coughed and gripped the counter tighter. "I have to go. Don't fucking follow me!"

He jumped away from the counter and ran out the bar, slamming the door behind him. Every single person in the bar jumped and stared at the place he used to be. Every single one of us was wondering what had just happened? I rose, making to chase after him when Ari grabbed my hand. "I wouldn't do that, Seychelles," he told me.

I gave him a look. "Why not?"

"If Pops wanted our help, he would have told us," he explained, easing me back onto my stool. "It's best if we left him alone for now." The moment my butt made contact, Switzerland declared that he would deal with 'the trouble maker' and went after him. That was not going to end well.

"What if he's having a seizure or tripping out on LSDs?" I demanded. "We should be there in case something bad is actually happening."

"No, it's, like, completely fine." I paused and stared at Poland. He was standing stock still, a forced smile twitching under his silent tears. "Turkey can, like, take care of himself," he whispered, sounding a bit more than a little unstable. "He would totes never do something to like purposely hurt anyone, I . . ."

Contrite feelings strangled me, causing me to look down at the floor. Yes, Sadiq was hypnotized in order to protect Poland from his mistake. But even knowing that, I felt the sheer weight of that price. I barely noticed Estonia and Lithuania when they came to the Pole's aid.

The brunette placed a gentle arm around him, easing him away to a private corner to talk and comfort. The moment the Baltic started talking; Poland broke and strongly hugged his old friend, sobbing into his shoulder.

My own lip trembled in sorrow at the sight. "It's not crack if they truly love each other," I muttered, clearly remembering Ari of the previous cycles telling me that. I rubbed my hands over my face, barely feeling the Icelandic boy place a hand on my back. His other one was on Italy, who was wailing from the fright of his friend suddenly turning scary.

"Um, Seychelles?" I looked up at Estonia. The bland blond looked as awkward as always, eyes darting around habitually. Taking my dead silence as a right of way, he said, "I saw Belarus dragging Liechtenstein to the hallway earlier . . ."

Shit, really?

I jumped up and bid Ari a hasty goodbye. Hearing that the most notorious straightie hater was with my weak best friend was more than enough information. Ignoring my nagging need to check up on Sadiq, I ran up the bar stairs and into the hallways.

Reaching the ground floor, I saw the windows outside showed the dying sunset was at an end. The fluorescent lights above me flickered and hummed as I scanned around for the girls. Amazingly, they were only a few feet away. They stood at the window, respectfully looking out with equal nostalgia. Their voices were hushed, but not hostile.

"Belarus isn't hurting her," I realized, noticing that there was a significant lack of blood. "So what are they doing?" Not feeling a single ounce of guilt, I started listening to the blond's conversation.

" . . . I just thought that we agreed to never mention that time," Belarus growled, glaring at the peaceful world before her.

Liechtenstein looked down with guilt, muttering softly, "I'm sorry. Prussia told me to sing it. I didn't realize that you were in the audience."

She turned to her and pressed her lips together. "I just don't get you, straightie," the scary one said. "One moment you were flirting with me-" What? "-and the next you're hooking up with Prussia." The German only repeated her apology. "I don't want you to be sorry, I just want to know the truth to what happened back then!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you," the girl repeated. "I promised him-"

Belarus suddenly grabbed her shirt and held her a foot of the ground. "It's been over a century," she snarled, ignoring the girl's cries of pain. "It's about time I-"

At that point, I had just enough. "Hey! Let her go!" Not knowing what I was doing, I sprinted to her and shoved the attacker away. The smaller girl landed right next to me, sniffling as she rubbed her sore neck. I growled, "What the hell are you doing?"

"This has nothing to do with you," the platinum blond snarled, pulling a knife from the strap under her stockings.

I flinched and protectively pulled my friend behind me. "She's my friend," I said. My voice reminded me of Sadiq: quiet, but deadly. "And she said she was sorry so just piss off." For a moment, I expected her to just stab me and end the cycle.

Belarus didn't. Instead, she frowned and put her knife away. "Neither of you are worth my time," she said before whipping her beautiful hair back and strutting again to the bar. When the door closed firmly behind her, I sighed and relaxed. I just barely got out of that one. Then again, I hadn't walked in on her and her girlfriend making love, so she really had no reason to murder me.

"Why did you do that?" Liechtenstein asked, her blue eyes looking at me with unfathomable concern. "Belarus might have hurt you."

I flashed a confident smile. "Isn't that what friends do? Save each other from psychos?" The girl giggled with sad warmth. I pressed my lips together and looked down. "But what was that about?" I asked. "Why was she . . ." I trailed off when I noticed her thick frown. I quickly added, "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that."

She shook her head. "No, it's fine. You're my friend and you deserve to know what I can tell you." She leaned against the window, and looked up at the ceiling. Her eyes shown with distant memories I could only pray to understand. "A long time ago, circumstances made it so that Belarus and . . . she and I had crushes on each other. But those same circumstances made it impossible to go further and we fell apart bitterly."

"You used to be a lesbian?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She only shook her head. "I wasn't, but that guy was." I had so many questions, like who was 'that guy' and what were the circumstances my cute little Liech was forced into? But the girl started humming and continued affectionately talking. "You know Seychelles, with the strange things you've been doing lately-" Like my excessive drinking, spending time with Turkey and Iceland, standing up to Belarus? "-I sometimes think that it might be happening again."

My confusion was far from over. "What's happening again?"

I was ignored as the girl looked at me, red with embarrassment. There was a brief silence as she struggled to throw her courage to the sticking place. "Can I tell you a secret, Seychelles?" she asked, looking down at her black Mary Janes.

I nodded. "Anything."

"After what happened today, I just can't keep it up with Prussia anymore," she confessed, looking depressed to admit it. "He's just so outgoing and I'm . . . not."

Frowning, I gently embraced her, squeezing her tightly to my chest. "It's alright to break up with him," I told her. "It's the fair thing to do."

"I did." My jaw unhinged itself and fell to the floor. Who here was expecting that because I sure wasn't. Liechtenstein pulled herself away and looked me straight in the eye, saying, "I've also been having a crush on someone else for a very long time."

This was getting delicious. Very similar sounding to Italy's situation, but delicious and nutritious nonetheless. "Who?"

She hesitated. Closing her eyes, she forced the name from her lips. "England."

I really should have stopped to think about the impact that was going to have on my mission. I mean, the Brit was the only known bisexual in the school; she had the chance I also needed. But I was so wrapped up in being a good friend that I grinned like America and promised that I would help her in her quest for love.

It wasn't until we were walking back to the underground establishment did I want to smack my forehead and call myself an idiot.

Cycle 11: The Room

The moment Turkey opened his eyes, he found his glossy reflection staring straight at him. He was in the glossy white room again, sitting in his usual chair. The memories of the near disaster beforehand flooded to his mind. Poland, the bar, running . . .

"You chose a fine time to call me here," Turkey snarled, folding his arms over his chest. Already he was feeling stiff in his pure clothes and the chair felt stone hard. "I was in a bar, surrounded by people! Did you want someone to grow suspicious of me?" he demanded. "To find out what's going on?"

The Voice, for once, replied immediately. That would have been a small victory if it had not been a mere cruel laugh. "I am merely just very curious to what you're trying to do," it said, obviously knowing something that he didn't.

That fact made Turkey uneasy. He squirmed in his chair, gulping. "What do you mean by that?"

It laughed again. "Hypnotism?" It mocked. "My, my, you must be desperate, Sadiq."

He glared upward, growling darkly, "Don't call me that, jackass. Not after what you did."

Unsurprisingly, the Voice ignored his request. The low rumble continued as if he never said anything. The merry tone it had suggested that it was rejoicing over something, but the nation could not figure out what. "What I did?" it repeated. "Sadiq, I'm very curious to what you did."

Turkey snapped, "And what did I do?"

"Of course you have forgotten." The reflection of the Voice's dark figure appeared in the glossed wall in front of him. Turkey sighed and obliged the rule of not turning to look at it. He learned his lesson last time- the watch felt heavier and colder than ever.

The Voice circled him like a vulture to its dying prey. Turkey was even sure that it was madly smirking when it said, "It is, after all, a side effect of France's crude hypnosis skills. Though I do have to admit, it is a very well thought out plan."

Sensing the worse, the nation tensely clenched his fists, gathering his starch pants in his hands. "I don't know what you're talking about, jackass."

The Voice smirked. "Then let me help you." Its strong hand shot out and its fingers rested on his forehead. Turkey had a moment to wonder what was happening before a sharp pain pierced his head.

He gasped, full of sudden fear for what it was going to do. The pain and anxiety made the seconds feel like slow years. "Stop it," the man silently begged, wincing in his suffering. "Just stop it."

Then the millions of memories and feelings flooded back to him.

Poland was standing before him, smiling contently. His green eyes sparkled whenever the slightest trace of light bounced off of it. Turkey could feel his skin under his and a warm feeling in his chest at the sound of his voice. He drifted away in the memories, smelling the blonde's hair, accepting the small pink tokens of affections, feeling secure as he lay next to him in bed . . .

For a short instant, euphoria over came the worry. It was his precious Poland and with him, Turkey had no need to fear- to regret the past.

But the fear had to return.

The Voice's subtle warning was echoing in his head, bringing to mind every possible tragedy it had to offer. Poland, dead by suffocation, bullet wounds, and poison . . . Poland, dead by Turkey's hands . . . Poland, forever changed like that one person . . .

It wrenched his heart, entertaining his mind with tragedy, after tragedy, after tragedy. Grinding his teeth together, Turkey felt a single tear fall down his hard cheek. "Stop it," he muttered, feeling every ounce of hope leave him. His love was going to die because of him. "Fucking stop it."

The Voice retracted his hand and the feelings stop. Every fond memory of the Pole was gone and love was replaced with hate. Gasping, the man leaned back into his chair and concentrated on breathing. How could he love Poland? The man was annoying, the worst human being every known to mankind. The very thought had Turkey growling.

The Voice smirked, wrapping its cold arms around its victim's tensed shoulders. "As you can see, I can reverse whatever changes you make to your mind," it said, pressing its frigid cheek against his stubble one.

A shudder ran through down his spine. "Then why did you redo it?" Turkey hissed, trying to keep his voice even and smooth. But the close proximity had his wrecked senses on high alert.

It ran its cold hands down his chest, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. Its victim hissed, trying to keep himself calm. Cooing playfully, "Because I do find it very convenient for you to hate him, Sadiq."

Turkey, though uncomfortable, was too afraid to fight the devil away. Why was it so close? "It's just a way to mess with me," he told himself. "Just ignore it, Turkey. Just ignore it."

Swallowing, the man continued to look forward as he asked, "Why is that?"

"Because now I have no reason not to do this." Turkey was confused until he felt the cold sensation of the Voice's lips against his own.

SEK: *troll face*

BFTL: *troll face*

SEK: Wolfie is enjoying herself right now. Remember to drop in a precious review!

FunFacts

"Frank Sinatra." This guy was a very popular singer among the Italian community of old (the very gorgeous Michael Buble covered a lot of his songs). I don't know a single Italian who doesn't know this guy (and I'm Italian). Also, Bucca Bi Beppo has a shrine to him, so look for it the next time you eat there.

"Across the velvet sea" I own that poem! Do not steal!

"Even after knowing this guy for, like, forever, I was still surprised…" It occurred to be recently that I have never written a scene where Sadiq and Greece argued with each other. And considering the fact that it's a big part of Sadiq's character…

Next Chapter: As Sadiq faces the consequences of his encounter, Sherry and Ari work to giving TWO people love lives. But what happens when France and England butt in?

**Review With Your Reactions! They Are Always Funny!**