The Fandom

by BFTLandMWandSEK

So let me get this straight: there is some universe out there where Hetalia is real. Said universe is in trouble and the heroes who have to save it are a rabid fangirl and a homophobic jerk. Yeah, we're screwed. -A satire look on the Hetalia fandom- COMPLETED

6. Pulling the Deus Ex Machina

MW: So to make up for the short update last chapter, I give to you a pretty long one here. So if you're wondering why this took so long to update, it's because of how much I had to get done this chapter. I'm going to try to update again before the end of summer vacation, but my mom is currently going on about taking another sudden trip (long story), so we'll have to see if it's possible.

Thank you to MastermindKakashi, FrostyTheBookLover, HimekoUchia, Hammsters, XxxImNotOkayxxX, TheSilentReader, Shiralala, andHTCJTJ for reviewing and showing your support. FYI I realized the reason why I have trouble coming up with responses to people's reviews is that I always want to say something sarcastic and witty, but since I want to seem professional, I always chicken out. Replying, however, is more important to me than my image, so I'm just going to start replying in my own humor. Just so you know.

Also, do note that the name tradition is a bit messed up here. Larry has a different set of names for the characters than Sherry does. It's really evident in this chapter, so if you're wondering why someone being called one thing and not the other, it's because whoever is narrating has no idea about the other name.

Edit: Thank you HimekoUchia for correcting my French!

Chapter Summary: Being sent to Himaruya's domain? That can only mean one place. Shit's bound to go down.

Warnings: Crude language, violence including blood, sexual harassment.

---

~Chapter 6~

Pulling the Deus Ex Machina

"Some people think that the truth can be hidden with a little cover-up and decoration. But as time goes by, what is true is revealed, and what is fake fades away."

-Ismail Haniyeh, Palestinian Politician

---

The Fandom: December 28th

Iceland pressed two fingers against the Netherland's long neck, relieved to find a pulse. He patted the guy's body, double checking for wounds before slapping him across the face. Nothing. He remained as lifeless as ever. Iceland sighed, rising to his feet. "He's knocked out too," he announced, turning back to France. "It seems like we're the only ones who didn't go to 'his domain.'"

"Sacre bleu!" France pulled at his hair, shaking his hair as he yelled. He sat beneath the giant bell, right next to his boyfriend's limp body. He was surrounded by five other bodies, each in similar states of unconsciousness. Iceland thought it almost looked like a clock, with Seychelles's body on the twelve. "Putains! Allez vous pendre avec vos bites!" France cried. "Those salops are going to get their neck wrung if they hurt a single eyebrow hair on my little bunny—"

Iceland pressed a finger to his temple, releasing an irritated sigh. "If you're going to be upset, can you at least do it in a language I understand?" He had more to say, more demands for France to calm down and look at the situation reasonably, but they died with the falling snow. He stared at it for a long moment, noticing how quick and thick the new shower was. Iceland moved to the edge of the bell tower, holding a hand into the open air. Snow piled on his palm, building on top of each other with alarming speed. Iceland looked to the two cars parked at the school steps and swore.

"Is something wrong?" France asked, joining Iceland at the ledge. His blue eyes caught sight of the snow and his mouth opened in amazement. "It looks like it picked up, doesn't it?"

Iceland nodded. "At this rate, the roads will be blocked and we'll be stuck here until a snow plow comes in the morning. Normally, I wouldn't worry since I can survive crap like that, but we kind of have six unconscious people at risk for hyperthermia."

"Six?"

"I'm presuming that we have a moral obligation towards Liechtenstein, Spain, and the Netherlands." He looked at France, raising an inquisitive brow. "Do we?"

France sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I want to say no, but they seem to be against Himaruya and the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

Iceland frowned. If it was just Turkey, England, and Sherry, he wouldn't be all that concerned. England and Sherry were light and they could carry them to the car easily. Turkey would be the only problem. But if they were going to be the good guys, they were going to have to lug three more people, two of which would be too heavy for the both of them. Iceland predicted that the roads would start to be clogged in an hour, not giving them enough time. Worse comes to worse, he decided, they could camp out inside the school until the next morning and pray no one gets frostbite.

He buried his hands in his coat pockets. "Let's get started then." He sighed. "We have a lot—"

Switzerland cocked his gun.

"Don't move," he ordered, aiming the long black barrel at Iceland and France. He was crouched next to Liechtenstein, his fierce green eyes melted in worry for her only seconds before.

They froze in place, both raising their empty hands into the air. "When did you get here?" France asked, looking between the gun and his still unconscious boyfriend.

Switzerland rolled his eyes. "I've always been here," he replied, his voice tense and uneasy. "You think I would let my sister go someplace like this without following her?"

"That's a bit creepy," Iceland commented, feeling uneasy. The snowfall was as relentless as ever, yet he was standing here and letting some psycho point a gun at him. His uneasiness only increased when the blond rose to his feet, aiming the gun squarely at Iceland's chest.

"You would do the same if she starts acting weird right after she leaves her boyfriend for no reason," he snapped.

"Did she know you were following her?"

"Obviously not."

France released a long breath. "We don't have time for this," he muttered, loud enough for only Iceland to hear, before planting a congenial smile on his face. Flaunting a charming look across the bell tower, he said, "I admire the protective way you guard your sister, Switzerland. She is very lucky to have a brother like you. In a less dire situation, I would simply tell her to take her and run, but—"

"When I said I've always been here, I meant I heard everything Ice Cube there mentioned earlier," Switzerland snapped.

France did not let his smile falter. "Then you know that this is a very serious situation and people might get hurt if we don't take them into a warmer place immediately."

Switzerland's face was unsettlingly blank as his eyes scanned the unconscious bodies, as if seeing if there were any worth his time. They never stayed long on any one person, but their unreadable gaze always returned back to Turkey. Switzerland scratched his neck. Then, with a final groan, lowered his gun. "Fine, but just because you guys helped me when I got hurt in the police station fire."

France sparkled. "Merci beaucoup, Switzerland! We owe you one! How is your leg doing, by the way?"

"It's healing fast, so I just have an ankle brace right now." He swung his rifle over his shoulder, the black strap hugging it close to his back. "Help me pick up the Netherlands. We can use our energy more efficiently if we work our way down by weight."

While France pounce to help, Iceland stayed by the ledge. He casted a wary gaze at the Germanic country, knowing quite well what was bugging him. "Switzerland?" The nation looked at him with an annoyed face. "If you've always been here, then did you see anything that happened up here?" he asked.

"No." Iceland raised a brow, surprised. Switzerland hooked the Netherland's arm around his shoulder, grunting as he and France pulled him to his feet. "Ghost Pangaea was down there and she insisted on talking to me about unrequited love and bullshit like that."

Iceland wasn't sure what to say about that as he watched the blonds struggle with the dead weight. He hurried to help them, pretending not to notice Switzerland when he started to hum "My Heart Will Go On."

---

The Fanboy: The Void

I wasn't surprised to open my eyes to a perfectly black world. That dizzying, falling sensation can only be achieved by my entrance into the Void. What puzzled me was the weakness in my limbs. My muscles felt like were liquefied beneath my skin, moving around like water in a balloon. I twitched my arm, groaning when a dull ache vibrated against my bones. I pressed the back of my head against the dark ground, blowing my bangs from my eyes. The pain moved to my stomach. I hissed.

"Sherry, is that you?"

I snapped upwards, sending a stabbing sensation into my side. I clutched it, my pants filtering through the gaps of my teeth. I could hardly believe who I was looking at.

Turkey lied a yard or so away from me, his arms shaking as he peeled his face off the floor. Golden eyes glared at me before skimming to the other parts of the Void. I couldn't figure out why he was here. He had been on Sherry's side, but that didn't mean he got a ticket to follow me into this place. In fact, I perfectly remembered how much of a douchebag he was to me during THE WAR.

I opened my mouth, intent on asking him why he was here, when his eyes returned to me. They gleamed with pure hostility, the kind that threatened to rip the skin from my bones and suck on the remaining flesh. "Who the hell are you?" He asked huskily, finally pushing himself to his feet. Standing, he straddled his legs and crossed his arms over his jacket-clad chest. "Where's Sherry?"

I was tempted to turn around, to make sure that she really was missing, but that would mean breaking eye contact. I shouldn't take my eyes off this man. There was no way to tell what he was going to do. Despite my body's protests, I picked myself off the ground, standing with the same authority he emitted. I was half a head shorter than he was. His shoulders were broader than mine. His resolve was stronger as well. I had no idea how I could appeared dominant without speaking.

So I spoke.

"My name is Larry Sue." My tone matched the cold glare I sent him. Turkey's visage loosened with the mention of my surname, but he did not say anything. "I don't know where Sherry is, but she's my sister so I'm going to find her. What are you doing here?"

"Why wouldn't I be here?" he demanded.

"He's right about that one." I broke my own keeping eye contact rule to turn around. Antonio and Lars were picking themselves off the ground with ease, though Antonio was the only one smiling. His cheeks were filled like balloons as he sauntered to my side. "Sadiq is like Sherry's equivalent of Lars," he said, slinging an arm around my shoulder. My hands turned into fists. I ground my teeth, ordering myself not to hit him. "Wherever she goes, he's bound to follow, though it looks like she's not here, which is partly my fault. I was able to grab you out of Alfred's grasp, but Sherry slipped through my—"

"You left my sister behind?" In one swift motion, I pulled his arm away and rammed my knuckles into his face. Antonio hit the ground in an Earth stopping instant. I knelt to grab his shirt collar, pulling his torso towards me. "You bastard! How can you- why didn't you tell me Sherry was here?" I shouted, tempted to punch him again.

Antonio moved his facial muscles, testing the bruise developing on his cheek. His cheerful mask disappeared, leaving behind the straight line of his mouth. His eyes regarded me with a serious, almost superior look. "I wanted to tell you," he said, "but the True Creator wouldn't let me. He told me that I had to keep it a secret from you—"

I struck him again. "Do you actually think that matters to me?" I demanded again. "You should have told me!"

"I couldn't."

"Liar!"

"Larry." Antonio placed his hand on the side of my cheek. I flinched and tried to move my face away, but he held it still. "I couldn't," he told me again, his eyes welling with emotions I did not want to pin. "There is so much that I want to tell you right now, but I can't. You'll be in danger if I do."

"Do you think I care about that?" I asked, shying my face away. His calloused hands guided it back, holding me in play with his hypnotizing eyes. More than ever, I wanted to hit him, but I ordered myself to stand down. The longer I was angry with this man, the more time Himaruya had to get to Sherry. "You should have told—"

"Larry." His curt voice cut me off again. Antonio's other hand wrapped itself around the hand I kept of his collar. He pried my fingers away, never breaking eye contact as he said, "I care what happens to you. I love you."

I looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable with the way he held his hand over mine. I pulled my head back, trying to defy the pull of the hand on my cheek. "You know that I—"

He pressed his mouth on top of mine.

This time, I did not allow myself a moment of shock.

I started to pull my mouth away, but the hand on my cheek crawled to the back of my head and pushed me back in. My glasses jammed up my nose. My vision skewed, I tried to make use of my only free hand. I placed it on his chest to push him away, but no matter how much pressure I applied, he remained cemented in place. A small tinge of panic jolted through me and I found myself banging my fist against his breasts instead. "Come on, Antonio," I screamed in my head. "Let go of me!"

"Hey!" Warm hands appeared on my shoulders, gripping them tightly before yanking me away. I gasped for air, coughing chunks of spit onto the ground. An arm pushed me behind as my savior resumed the threatening stance I had earlier: gripping Antonio's shirt, while looking ready to strangle him. I wiped my arm over my mouth, realizing that the large back in front of me was no other than Turkey. "What the hell are you doing, Spain?" The bronze man growled.

Antonio flashed him a bright, perky smile. "I was just kissing him. Is there anything wrong with kissing the guy I love—" He ended on a choke, Turkey having harshly shook him.

"I don't know what the hell is going on here, jackass, but all I know is that guy there—" He rolled a shoulder back to me. "—did not want it. Respect that."

I stared at him, unsure of what to think. Is this really the guy who wanted to have sex with Liechtenstein simply because he could? What happened after THE WAR that made him do a complete turnaround? A small part of me already knew the answer: Himaruya.

My hand moved to my pocket on its own accord, searching for my knife. Surprisingly, I felt the cool hilt through the fabric of my jeans. It appeared like whatever was on me the moment my soul went into Liechtenstein's body stayed with me. The temptation to pull the blade out was almost too much to resist, but I refrained. I felt better knowing that I had a secret weapon on my side.

A sharp whistle shot through the air. "Alright, that's enough you two." Lars wedge himself between them, splitting Turkey from Antonio. "I know that you both want to wrestle and make love and shit," he drawled, "but we have better things to do." He helped Antonio to his feet, giving the Spaniard a threatening look.

Turkey, meanwhile, turned back to me. He did not place a hand on me, but his eyes searched my body for any place of harm. "Are you alright?" he asked me softly, wiping the sweat from his brow. Whatever contempt he held against me before was gone, leaving behind the worrisome glances of an older brother. "Does Spain always do that to you or…"

I shook my head. "He mostly just talks about it. He's never done anything like that before." I looked away, watching Lars hiss viciously into Antonio's ear. I picked at the fabric of my jeans. What did I do to get two different guys kissing me within the hour? The very thought made every inch of my skin feel blanketed in a layer of mud. What was I doing to make these things happen to me? "I'm sorry," I told Turkey after a small pause. "I should have pushed him away myself."

Turkey placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. His smile was the most reassuring thing in the world. "Don't worry about it, kid. Sometimes, you just can't help these kinds of things." His eyes drifted downwards, widening at the sight. "Shit! What the hell happened to you?"

I looked down, realizing what he meant. A giant red blood stain engulfed the front of my body, centering on my side and extending up my torso, around my waist, and to the middle of my thigh. A slit was up at the very center, but there was no wound beneath it. "What the fuck," I breathed, feeling the dried substance beneath my fingertips. "How did this..."

I thought back to my forgotten memories. I must have had a fight against the men who attacked Sherry. But the amount of blood on me was enough for a man to die of blood loss. I fingered the skin behind the opened slit. Plus there was no sign of injury, not even a scar. If this really was my blood, then something—or someone –healed me before I died.

I gulped, looking back at my companions. "Guys..."

Antonio and Lars looked back at me, the latter swearing before running to my side. "What the hell happened to you?" he demanded, pushing Turkey aside as he studied my clothes. "How are you still alive?"

I shrugged. "I think someone saved me."

"I don't know what happened to you," Antonio said softly as he stood to the side. The tremble was plain in his voice, nearly as obvious as the stressed in his eyes. Both gave me no reason to doubt him. "I should always... but I really don't know..."

A cough sounded by my ear. Turkey pulled himself to his feet, dusting the invisible dirt off his backside. "Look, I care about your well-being and everything Kid, but not only is Sherry missing, but I still have no idea what the flying fuck is going on."

We stared at him for a long, puzzled moment.

"Why are you here?" Lars asked.

I pressed my fingers into my temples. "Hold on, just let me just figure this out for a moment," I said. Flashes from the fight on the bell tower appeared in my eyes, the image of Sherry coughing up blood burned into my retinas. "If I'm right, my sister is under contract somehow, so most likely she's in that room place we found you in when we came to rescue you last time."

Lars nodded, already reaching into his pocket for another cigarette.

Turkey bobbed his head, gulping my words readily. "We already knew about her contract," he said, scratching the stubble along his chin. "She claims that she has no idea what it's about, but I know for sure that-" He stopped himself, his eyebrow twitching in anger. A deep breath exited his mouth as he started over. "Anyways, we all thought Himaruya was dead."

Antonio shook his head. "You can't kill-"

"I killed it."

A pregnant silence hung in the air around us. I was the first to break it, shifting onto my uneasy feet. "When and why?"

The directness of my words seemed to have caught him off guard, but he did not allow that to stall the conversation. "About eight teen months ago, more or less. He was going to take my soul."

Before that moment, it seemed like the discovery of my sister had emptied a pile of puzzle pieces at my toes, ones scarcely bigger than my thumb nail, each begging to be put into its place. I had placed a few parts together myself, but there was still one corner missing. I couldn't get the middle pieces together unless I had my frame built. Turkey's words were that missing edge. Sherry and Turkey were partners, working to save his soul from Himaruya. They succeeded in ways that I failed at- not only did Sherry appeared to have saved Turkey's soul, but they had the guts to defeat the monster once and for all.

If only Himaruya hadn't been centuries ahead of them.

I looked back at Antonio, hoping to see the same revelation in his eyes. I saw instead his absent gaze, one that told me he already knew. Not only did he know that Sherry was here, but he knew everything about her adventures in Hetalia. I swallowed, hard, once again ordering myself to cut him a break. He said he was doing it for my safety, right? As sappy as it was, it was still a good reason.

Antonio met my eyes. Will you trust me? they seemed to be asking.

I bowed my head. Did I have any other choice?

"I think we can go more into detail later," Antonio said, striding to the front of our group. He paused, motioning with his head towards the eternal blackness. "The Room is that way. Follow me and we'll get to your sister in a bit."

Turkey was the first to march after him. I stayed behind, hesitant for reasons beyond me. Lars sauntered to my side, giving me a sidelong glance. He patted my back. Knowing that it was Lars's silent language for comfort, I flashed him a fake smile before trotting after Antonio and Turkey.

I spent our walk trying to come up with a plan, trying to find our advantages. With Alfred, Roderich, Mathias, and Himaruya there to guard Sherry, it was going to take a lot of manpower. Lucky for us, each one of us was muscular in our own way. Turkey had the body type of a weight lifter while Antonio's calves and shouldered were sculpted by work and sports. Lars and I were both the lanky, but strong type, the guys whose pale skins were stretched tightly against our veins. We had the brute force, but we had no weapons to fight back. If Alfred or Roderich pulled another one of those freezing traps, we were screwed.

But I had to try, for Sherry at least. I promised Dad years ago that I would be the man of the house and protect my siblings. Today I planned on doing just that.

At least I had my knife to help me.

---

The Fandom: December 29th

"I got a doctor," France announced, opening the door to their makeshift infirmary.

Iceland glanced up from the book he was reading, his fingers still wrapped around Seychelle's limp hand. He, France, and Switzerland had determined that none of their apartments were large enough for the amount of people they needed to house, so France drove them and their six charges to his mansion. The place was as large and grand as it sounded, every room decorated with priceless paintings and thousand dollar décor. Iceland supposed he was a little envious of their wealth, but the past twenty-four hours had been so consumed with anxiety that there was no room for the petty emotion.

"Who is it?" Switzerland asked, his half polished gun resting on his lip. He sat by Liechtenstein's bed, having insisted that he was the only one capable of protecting her.

France shrugged, a sheepish grin stretching across his face. 'Well…"

A storming force pushed him face first into the wall, making way for the last person Iceland would have expected. "Move it!" Belarus demanded as the skirt of her dress swished with a conquering energy around her marching legs. Her loose hair moved behind her like a cape, outlining her ever hard and ever angular features. Her hands held a heavy medical bag as if it was an empty sack.

Iceland rose to his feet, placing his book on Seychelles's bedside. "Belarus? You're a doctor?" he asked, more confused than anything. He always thought that she would become an assassin for hire or a body guard. Bandaging wounds did not seem like the most fitting choice for her.

"Yes I am." She stood in the middle of the room, sweeping her eyes along the six beds with the six patients in them. "You did a nice job with a makeshift infirmary," she commented, turning towards France. "Though you should have more natural light in here. Must the curtains be drawn?"

France peeled his face from the wall, leaving behind a hole the size of his face. Bits of plaster stuck to his face and hair as he sent her a strained smile. "It's part of the secrecy thing I mentioned earlier," he said.

She blew air through her mouth, glaring. "Of course. Do me a favor and leave me out of your bullshit, okay?" She turned back to the patients. "Who's in the worse condition?"

Iceland scratched the back of his head. "Well Pops got a few bad hits on Spain…"

Belarus was by the man's side in an instant, pulling away the layers of blankets and unbuttoning his shirt. Iceland exchanged a hesitant look between France and Switzerland before coughing into his fist. He approached Spain's bed carefully, watching her press a stethoscope to the tan chest. "Belarus?"

"What?"

He winced. As curt as ever. "Excuse me for asking, but why are you a—"

"Believe it or not, but I actually like to help people, not hurt them. Now if you would just shut up, I can listen to his pulse and do my job."

He and the rest of the men decided that it was best to leave her alone.

---

The Fangirl: The Room

The falling sensation did not last long for me.

The familiar black of the Void coursed around my vision as I plummeted to an unforeseen end. I expected this time to be like every time before it- the never ending drop fading into the tide of sleep. That was the way it had always been. This time was different. Just as I felt my eyes give into the slumber, I felt my body jerked from that reality and into another.

My eyes flared open.

White surged into my vision.

My eyes ached, but I didn't dare to blink the pain away. I knew this white. It was the reflective white of the Room, the kind where I was forced to always stare at my own reflection no matter where I looked. Tremors overtook me before I could stop them. Shaking, I focused my attention on different aspects of the room.

It was the same place I have always known, yet I was unexplainably the only person inside. Even the lone door on the far wall was in the exact place, though the window had been closed. I gulped. I was trapped here like a pig before the slaughter house. I looked down and saw, first, the single white chair I remembered from last time was beneath me, holding me in place at the room's center. For some reason, the exactness washed me with ease.

It was my clothes that shook me to my bones.

Sometime between my fall and now, my outfit had been changed to the starchy white suit Sadiq had once wore. It fitted me perfectly, even if the collar was stiff against my skin and the cloth felt like canvas. The gold chain of the pocket watch hang out of my suit pocket, draping down my side before looping up to my wrist. "Fuck!" I pulled my hand away and the chain lengthened and stayed limp at my side.

"It must suck." I looked up, amazed to see America had appeared. He sat in a chair like mine, except it was backwards: his legs straddled the back while arms were folded lazily on the top. He pressed his chin into them, sending me a nonchalant gaze. "You make a contract for whatever reason and then you gotta fight for your own soul while you deal with psychological bullshit like this place. If I were in your shoes, I would totally just bail before it got too serious. Of course, heroes don't bail, but since I'm in your shoes, I'll be like the pseudo-but-not-really bad guy. You feel me?"

I stared at him, unsure of what to say. His matching white suit made his fair skin look like a washed away gray. His hair seemed devoid of all shading. It was only those pair of bright blue eyes that brought him any real sense of color. Their hue brought me back to the bell tower, to the moment they glared mocking down at Liechtenstein, who was apparently Larry.

My heart jumped. What was Larry doing here? Why was he involved with this?

I realized that America was staring at me, waiting for me to speak. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say. I pressed my lips, twisting and playing with my fingers. "I'm here because I'm under contract with you people," I said, finding my voice to be far too soft for my comfort. "But I don't remember ever making a-"

America made a noise that almost sounded like a quick "I don't know." He shrugged largely. "I didn't make a contract with you, dudette. I don't know your terms," he said.

I sighed and nodded, unsure if I should feel relieved or terrified. I was not bound to America, but that still left Himaruya, Austria, and Denmark in the running. One of them was betting I was going to fuck up and lose (what I presumed to be) my soul. I intended on finding out who.

"Don't get friendly with the girl, Bud." Austria's reflection appeared on the wall in front of me. I froze, expecting him to place a claw-like hand on my shoulder. He didn't. Too afraid to turn around, I watched his reflection in the wall stalk back and forth behind my chair, looming above my mane of orange hair like a phantom. He raised his chin coolly into the air. "Being friendly will undoubtedly lead to irreparable complications."

America pouted. "But Winny!"

I looked away from Austria, instead training my eyes on the reflection of the door. It was on the other side of the room, far out of my reach.

"Don't 'but Winny' me," Austria scolded.

If I waited for the right moment, I might have a chance at making a mad dash for it.

America's face contorted with his chuckle. He leaned back in childish glee. "Ha, you said 'butt!'"

Red flushed Austria's face as he forced back the majority of the anger. He hand clenched at his sides. "I swear to God, Bud. If you don't mature right now-"

I bolted from my chair, pushing past Austria and towards the door. Each of my steps hit the ground with a thunderous noise, one that was louder than my racing heart. I stretched out my hand, hoping to brush my fingertips on the pallid doorknob. I was a thumb's length away when the wall zoomed out from my reach. I gasped, lunging to grab it before it got out of reach. The wall was far too quick. I fell to the ground, the door a football field's length away. A zap of pain vibrated my jaw.

"Nice try, Ms. Sue." Austria entwined his hand in my hair as he spoke. "But you forget that we have power in this place, power that surpasses our in the positive world. Come." Every strand in my head screamed in pain as he pulled me to my feet. I yelped, bringing my hands to his, hoping to even out the pressure. Once I was standing, Austria wasted no time in dragging me back to the chair. "We have much to discuss and it would be rather rude of us to force you to stay on the ground as we converse, yes?"

I wanted to make a witty remark (at least, I hoped I would have the courage to speak without stuttering over every syllable), but I was still busy making various noises of pain as I tried not to stumble over my feet. Austria shoved me back into my chair, nearly tipping it over in the process. I rubbed the sore spots on my scalp, trying not to whimper. That fucking hurt.

America had not moved from his spot. He rocked his chair back and forth, quirking a high eyebrow. "That was kinda entertaining."

I glared at him. "Fucking sadist." Another chair appeared next to America and Austria gracefully placed himself on it. I switched my glare between the two. "You two aren't Himaruya," I spat. "Who are you then?"

Austria raised his chin ever so higher. "His sons."

"Crazybastardfromthetwentysecondringofhellsaywhat?"

America's head shot into the air like an attentive puppy. "What?" His 'brother's' scowl did nothing to weaken the infantine grin on his face. I began to worry about my likelihood of making it out of this place alive.

Austria rubbed a finger into his temple. "Idiot," he muttered. The violets of his eyes turned back to me, blazing with unspoken irritation. "I'll explain it to you only once, Ms. Sue. I will not repeat myself. It is true that you and Sadiq killed our father Himaruya the last time you were here. However, our father is the god of this place. He knew long before you ever came that you would one day play a role in his future demise. He readied another vessel and created us, his sons, to ensure his smooth transition between the two. But-" Every inch of his being seemed to sharpen to a point, like a blade ready to slice me to pieces. "-we are missing one piece of his soul. Without this piece, he cannot live on in his new body. Perhaps, Ms. Sue, you know where this missing piece is."

I did know. Some primal part of me knew. The piece lay in a pair of glasses that had been safely tucked in my pocket, a pair that I then hid in my desk drawer. I thought about denying the fact, but the pleased upturn of his mouth told me he already knew. The bastard already knew and he had the guts to taunt me about it. There was only one thing left for me to do: stall. If I could get him talking about something else for a bit, then maybe I can get enough time to think of a way out of here.

"What about Larry?" I demanded, jumping onto my feet. I froze, realizing what I had done. Idiot, you should have stayed in the chair and not cause any more trouble. I glanced back at the seat, wondering if I should sit back down when I noticed two pairs of eyes watching me. I lost all guts to move more than what was necessary. I gulped. My hands fell in front of me and I played with my fingers again. "W-why is he here?" I asked, feeling the shake in my voice. "Th-th-this is between you and-"

"Is it really?" I clamped my mouth shut, staring at Austria with large eyes. Victory smoothed his face as he relaxed in his chair. "As far as I can tell, no one said that everything is about you. It's rather selfish of you to think that it does."

"I didn't say-"

"You were implying it."

Something about the smug smile on his face made the anger jump in my chest. I stomped towards him, slashing my hand at his face. He caught it before I made contact. He didn't even blink. I ground my teeth, struggling to pull myself free. "Why is he here?" I screamed. "What did you do to my baby brother?"

"You should be asking what you did to him."

A chill ran down my spine. Stiff, I turned my head to America. There was something unnerving about the way he studied his nails, occasionally taking one in mouth and chewing on the tip. I stared at him for a long moment. "What do you..."

"It took a shit-ton of scheming to get that new vessel for Hima-pops," America said. "We were originally going to get you involved- as revenge, right? -but we decided to use your brother instead." He gave me a knowing gaze. "We would've never have used him if it wouldn't have hurt you."

The words rang around the room, ricocheting off the walls before pounding into my empty skeleton. I stood in shocked silence, trying to process what he said.

Larry never would have been here if I wasn't for me.

"He did very well here," Austria added, releasing my arm. It fell listlessly at my side. "Unlike you who blames herself for killing my father when all she did was hide outside, Larry actually murdered a man."

All air vacuumed out of my lungs.

America raised his fist in the air, mimicking a stabbing action. "Got the poor sucker in the gut."

I stepped back, the hollow of my chest numbed. I lowered myself back into my chair, feeling every nerve in my body taut with the dawning realization. I let this happen to Larry. Because of me he actually murdered someone. America kissed him because I let him be there. My conversation with Mom came back to me in picturesque quality. "Your brother, with all of this running and fighting he's doing, is preparing himself for a war." She was right.

It was a war I forced him into.

I buried my face in my hands. I didn't want them to, but I could already feel the tears leaking from my eyes. I bit back a sob, opting to sniffle loudly instead. His paranoia, his unexplained moments of panic, his sleepless nights in my room- I did it to him. I made him into this ticking bomb that was revved to explode from incessant anxiety, but never would. I was the reason for it all.

And I hated myself for it.

"Hey- what's wrong with her?" That was Denmark, though I did not bother to look at him. There was no room left for him in my concern. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a lone corner and wail away my anguish, pretending that none of this ever happened.

"Bud told her about her brother," Austria explained, deprived of all sympathy. "She's in shock."

I could feel him jerk back a thumb. "Well he's right there if she wants to talk to him," he said.

I was on my feet before anyone could stop me. I didn't know what I could possibly say to him to make it better, but any chance to explain to Larry my regret was a good one. I twisted around to look at the new head of red hair behind me, hardly noticing the Dane as I stepped around my chair.

I stopped.

It was my brother alright, with the same head of red hair combed into obedient bangs across the forehead. He had the same face as the Larry I knew, though the cheeks were a tad more rounded, a difference only a few could see. He wore the same white suit as me, looming just as tall as he normally does. Nothing was changed there. But I didn't need the different style of glasses to tell that the man before me wasn't Larry.

I stared at him, unsure of what to think or say. I gripped the top of my chair, trying to keep myself upright as I tried to figure out what this meant. He looked me in the eye for a long time, waiting for me to say something. What could I say? Every word that tried to spill from my mouth would end in a broken sob. I had to cling to what little strength I had left.

When I remained mute, iced to my spot, the redhead walked towards me. His feet created cold echoes as he crossed the room at an agonizingly slow rate. Each step brought his face to better focus. There was something vacant about his expression, like he was brimming with emotions he was forced to compress. He stopped in front of me, still looking at me with that hollowed out visage. He raised his hand, cupping it on the side of my face. "Sherry..."

I flinched, turning my face away. "You're not real," I said quickly, squeezing my eyes shut. Unshed tears ached in my eyes.

"But I am," he replied. He tried to turn me back towards him, but I shook him away. The despair rose in his voice. "Sherry please!"

I slapped his hand away. "You can't be real!" I shouted. My face broke again as the new wave of tears cascaded down my cheeks. "If you're real, then... then..." I broke into a full out sob, unable to stop myself from flinging my arms around his neck and holding my body close to his chest. I cried into the crook of his neck, uncaring of who saw me, wallowing in the warmth of his body. "Jerry! I'm so sorry! This is all my fault! It's all..."

Jerry did not hesitate to wrap his arms around my trembling frame, rubbing his hand up and down my back. "It's alright," he hushed. All emotion returned to him and he sounded like the tranquil brother I always remembered. "It's not your fault. I made this choice, not you. Please don't blame yourself."

He held me like that for a very long time, telling the same message with different words. He focused on his "choice," continually reminding me of his decision. What his decision exactly was, I didn't know. Every now and then, he told me not to blame myself when I knew that my waking in Hetalia six years before was the only reason he could have for standing before me now. Through his speech, his "it's alright" mantra repeated itself between lines like the low humming of a song. His words cycles through my head, surprisingly calming, until my sobs reduced to sniffles and my tears to dried lines down my face.

When I pulled away, my lips still quivered on my mouth. I ignored them, forcing my back erect and my chin into the air. I blinked away the remaining sorrow. "What are you doing here?" I whispered, keeping my arm on his shoulders.

Jerry opened his mouth, peering down at me with confused eyes. He placed his hand on one of my forearms. "You know why I'm here," he said. "You were there. You saw everything, didn't you?"

I shook my head. "I don't even remember making a contract."

"You made a contract?" His eyes widen and I could see the beginnings of early age wrinkles around his eyes. Trepidation shook his hands, even the one on my arm. He bowed his head until his bangs shielded his face from mine. It was a long moment before he spoke again. "But you said you would never make one. That's why..."

"Did you make one?" I demanded.

He was quiet.

I looked around, seeing the amused faces of the henchmen behind me. A special glint shone in their eyes, one that told me that I was the fool all along, one that said that I would soon be ripping my hands away from my younger brother. Feeling my heart race faster in my chest, I looked back at Jerry. I tried fitting him into Sadiq's situation, one where he made his contract out of desperation. To this day, I could remember every little sign of his distress, everything from the way Sadiq held himself to the manner he spoke. Jerry lacked any signs of real stress or misery. In fact, he had been holding himself just fine until I mentioned the contracts. But the contracts didn't give him any of those emotions. They gave him something else entirely- guilt.

I dropped my hands, stepping away from him. I knocked into the back of my chair. "You want to be here," I whispered. I didn't even sound like myself. It was as if a different girl was standing in someone else's shoes saying someone else's words. "Jerry... did you choose to be here?" I pointed a sharp finger back at the men behind me. "On their side?"

My question was met with silence

"Well?"

Every bone in my body wished that I was misunderstanding the situation. I hoped- I prayed that he would look at me and tell me that he was innocent. At that moment, that was the one thing I needed to hear from him. If he told me anything else, I felt like I would crumble to the ground with no hopes of repair. Yet, God did not answer my prayers. Jerry did not look at me and his answer was what I feared the most. "I did, but if you would just remember-"

I turned away to face Himaruya's three henchmen. Our reflection shone in the wall in front of me: Jerry, now looking up, stared at me with broken eyes, not realizing why I wouldn't face him. His stare bore into my back as my face warped into one full of contempt. I glared at the men, cutting at their eased forms. "What did you do to him?" I barked.

America, lounging in his chair like before, gave me a light shrug. "We didn't do anything," he said.

"Liar!" I trained my furry on Austria, vaguely hoping that the curt man would give me a truthful answer. "What the fuck did you do to my brother?"

Austria waved a loose hand in my direction, sinking in his seat as Denmark loomed straight as a soldier above him. "He came with us by his own free will, Ms. Sue," the dark haired man replied. "You would be a fool to believe otherwise."

My hands clenched into rigid fists. I forced myself not to hit them. If I did, they were sure to give me an ass-whooping in return. I ground my teeth with the fierceness of a rabid dog as I growled, "Tell me the truth or I'll-"

The hand Jerry placed on my shoulder was enough to shut me up. "Why can't she remember anything that happened?" he asked, pushing me back as he took my place in the limelight. His fear of public speaking colored his cheeks in bright pink. "Did any of you..."

"Wasn't us," America said. He raised his arms into the air, languidly stretching the joints in his shoulders. They cracked like dried walnuts. "Girlie there can't remember a thing 'cause some asshole blocked her memories."

I couldn't help but to gasp. My memories were repressed? I was right to say that there was something else that happened after my argument with Larry. Something that made me sign a contract. Something that made Jerry join Himaruya's side. I placed a hand on my chest, feeling my heart race against my stiff suit. Himaruya was the only person capable of doing such a thing to me. If he and his henchmen didn't do it, then who did?

"Can't you fix it?" Jerry asked.

Austria and America exchanged a silent look. The raising of a dark brow ordered America to his feet. Burying his hands in his pockets, he sauntered towards us with a bright smile on his face. Instinctively, I hid behind Jerry, surprised to find him so calm. America blinked at us with a dorky expression. "Jerry, dude. Of course we can fix it," he said. "As the hero, it is my job to make sure that everyone is happy and well in the end. And I really, really want to just snap my fingers and undone the stupid change, but I'm kinda under orders to not to, so..."

Jerry grimaced. "Yeah, I know."

"But dude, it totally goes against the whole 'be the hero' thing. Like I really want to compare it to some sort of hero movie, but there's nothing coming to mind-"

"What about the new Batman trilogy?" Denmark asked.

America turned back to him, shouting, "I love Christopher Nolan and Christian Bale and everything, but those movies butchered the freaking franchise. Like who the hell thought it would be a good idea to put the Princess of Genovia in as Catwoman? Who thought of that? She has a country to run!"

"The Princess Diaries isn't a documentary," Jerry said, trying to break the news to him gently. "And Genovia isn't a real place."

America teared up. "Don't remind me..."

To my surprise, Jerry did not hesitate to wrap his arms around the man. Every hint of awkwardness that should have drowned his being was missing, replaced by a brotherly sense of affection. I gawked at Jerry's back, horrified. They were friends? Gentle and sweet Jerry made friends with the asshole who tried to attack me a few days before? How was that possible?

"..and we're here!" I turned back to the door, realizing that the muffled sound was coming from the other side. A few other voices piped up for a moment, though all were equally incomprehensible. I stared, unsure of what to think. Was that Larry in the Void? Was Sadiq with him?

What would Larry do when he realized Jerry was here?

None of the men reacted to the voices until the doorknob began to turn. Austria snapped from his chair (which then faded out of existence) like a whip, smoothing his hand down the length of his slacks. "They're here."

America jumped away from Jerry, presumingly to get into his proper position. He placed both hands on my shoulders, forcing me back into my chair and facing me to the door. I expected to feel some sort of pain as a result, but America's grip was shockingly gentle. His face lacked any signs of malice. Was this really the guy who tried to attack me in front of the police station? Or was he putting up an act for Jerry? I watched America skipped off to the side and take his place on the wall opposite of his brother.

Denmark took Jerry and guided him away. Jerry looked over his shoulder, his eyes on the white door. "Larry probably doesn't remember what happened," he said aloud. Whether it was to himself or to the other men in the room, I wasn't sure. He gave Austria a hard look. "I need to tell him myself."

Austria nodded. He still looked as cold as ever, but his usual cruelty was missing. "You'll get your chance" was all he had time left to say before the door swung open.

Honestly, I wasn't sure what I was expecting. Hours upon hours of watching anime made me think that whoever was coming to save me was going to roll in with a chorus of explosions and opera singing angels. I have to admit that it would have been pretty kick ass. But, things tended to be more normal in reality.

The door opened with a soundless sweep, creating a black rectangle in the immortally white walls. I didn't even have time to blink before a familiar green figure was running towards me. "Sherry!"

Sadiq's feet glided across the smooth floor as he came closer, ending the mad dash at the edge of my seat. He had me in his arms in an instant, pulling me to my feet in the process. I did not hesitate to press my face into his chest, drowning in the feeling of his warm fingers in my curls. For one sweet moment, I felt the stress leave my body with a sigh. I didn't realize until now how scared I really was. A part of me had been convinced that Sadiq hated me so much that he would leave me to fend against Himaruya myself, but the feeling of his lips on the crown on my head told me otherwise. Sadiq still cared for me. If he was here, then I was safe from whatever would come.

Sadiq pulled me away, holding me in front of him. "Are you alright?" he asked, his hands moving up and down my face and shoulders. "Did anything-"

"Sherry!"

My heart jumped in my chest. I tilted my head to the side, trying to look around Sadiq but afraid to fully crane my neck. Noticing my distress, Sadiq stepped to the side, revealing the black doorway once again. Three men stood at the threshold, though there was only one I cared about: Larry.

There was something surreal about seeing him- really seeing him -that made me feel the pain his presence dealt me. I paled, staring at the blue dots of his eyes. A part of me realized that the giant dark red splatter on his clothes was blood, but I refused to acknowledge it. I could only see how he was standing strong with full confidence, waiting for me to say something. I imagined myself saying a million of different things to him. I could stride straight up to him and apologize for getting him tangled in my bullshit. I could tell him that even if I didn't want him to be here, I was still secretly glad to have one sibling who was on my side. But none of that came to me. Instead, I was only able to give one weak whisper. "Larry..."

"Welcome back, Lar!" I whipped my head around, seeing America and Austria walking in sync from their positions at the wall. America waved a hand in the air as he spoke. "It's been a long time dude. I hope you're still not bitter-"

"I am." Never before have I seen Larry give such a hateful glare, one that perfectly matched the spite in his voice.

Austria mocked him with a wince. "That's a pity," he said. His steps ended at one of my sides, America's on my other. Sadiq pulled me back into his chest, his body tensing against my frame. Austria motioned a nod towards me. "Especially when we have your sister right here."

"What contract do you have her under?" Larry demanded, taking a step forward. I was amazed- there wasn't a lick of fear on his face.

"You give us too much credit. We don't have her under one."

One of the men behind Larry, one I recognized as Spain, shook his head. "He's lying," he said, his voice lacking his famous mirth. Combined with the severe glint in his eyes, Spain almost looked like a completely different person.

Larry absorbed the fact with a deep breath, his conviction strengthening his stance. "Let my sister out of her contract right now," he ordered. "Do that, let us leave, and we can resume our real conflict."

America grinned, cheeky. He straddled his legs, hooking his thumbs on his pants like a cowboy. "Are you sure you know what the real conflict is?" he asked. "Sometimes you act like it's between you and me, others it's like you're against everybody but yourself."

My brother's teeth ground together. "Stop trying to mess with me."

"I'm not. I'm just trying to get the truth to you." His blue eyes hardened until they resembled the steel of a sword blade. "It's not the issue of you versus our dad, or even you versus me."

"Get to the point already."

"It's you versus me." Jerry's voice was clear, a soft mixture between guilt and strength.

Larry turned rigid. Sweat dripped down his forehead, trickling to the nape of his neck.

Jerry stepped out from his hiding place with Denmark, walking slowly to the center. The confidence Jerry held so surely a minute before disappeared at the stunned look contorting Larry's face. Knowing Jerry, the very knowledge that his twin could hear him was enough to make his confidence wane. Yet he continued to walk until he was in front of Larry, stopping only when he was within an arm's distance of his brother.

America said something about how dramatic that line was, but everyone ignored him. All was focused on the confrontation.

My brothers stared at each other for a mute, unsteady moment.

Larry's heavy breathing filled the air, each note echoing off the walls with a powerful flush. Slowly, like the crumbling of an old building, the stoic mask disintegrated from Larry's face, revealing every thought that danced through his head. Everyone could see pieces of his confusion, worry, disbelief, sorrow. Worse of all, I saw how scared he truly was.

Jerry looked at him for a long time, mouth shaped in a small circle. I saw him gather his courage in his chest, forcing his eyes to look straight into the pupils of his brother. "Larry..." Jerry raised a delicate hand towards him. "Please don't be angry. I chose-"

"You chose to be here?"

The resentment in his voice sliced through Jerry's skin. He winced, nearly drawing back his hand. He forced himself to extend it further, the tips of his fingers threatening to touch Larry's cheek. "I did," he said, sounding as soft as the touch he was attempting to give. "If-"

"You son of a-" Larry grabbed Jerry's arm, jerking it to the side with a rough motion. Jerry, realizing he was in trouble, lashed out a foot, hitting Larry square in his stomach. Larry fell to the ground, pulling him down with him.

They became a brawling mass of tumbling bodies, each trying to gain dominance over each other. "Son of a bitch!" I heard Larry scream as he struck Jerry across the face. He grabbed Jerry's shoulder, lifting them a foot before smashing them back into the floor. "You traitor, you-"

Jerry, more nimble than his brother, twisted from his grasp, shoving his foot into Larry's chest. "Listen to me!" Never before had I seen Jerry look so furious. His brows were furrowed, his face red with anger. Something vicious flash behind his eyes as he crashed his knuckles into Larry's mouth, cutting his lip against his teeth. "For once in your fucking life would you shut up and listen to me?"

"Stop it you two!" I didn't realize I was the one shouting until I felt Sadiq's hand around my arm, nudging me back towards him. "Fucking God! Would you two-"

Larry grappled Jerry by the neck, trying to push him aside. Having more martial arts experience, he was easily able to fling his twin to the ground beside him. Larry wasted no time in crawling on top of him, pinning him to the ground. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "Joining their side? They're a bunch of sick monsters. All of them. If you think for one moment that your pretty little presence is going to change that then you better fucking grow up!"

Jerry struggled beneath him like a savage, kicking his legs jerking his body side to side, but he couldn't break from Larry's expert hold. His glasses skewed on his nose, he glared at his brother, flinching when the blood from Larry's lip dripped onto his face. "You don't understand," he spat. "I'm not trying to change them."

"Then what are you trying to do?"

"That's enough." The Netherlands appeared above them both, looming like a watch tower. He placed his hands on Larry's shirt, trying to pull him away civilly. However, Larry refused to budge. He shot the giant a murderous glare, daring him to try that again. With an annoyed breath, the Netherlands shot his hand onto Larry's scalp and pulled at his hair. With no other choice, Larry released his brother, rising to his feet as his head followed the path the Netherlands pulled him down.

Jerry scrambled to stand up, giving one last look at his twin before dashing back to America. He stood still as America used the sleeve of his suit to wipe the blood from his face.

I felt Sadiq shift on his feet, chewing on his words before he spoke them. He was nervous- that much was sure -even a little scared. Yet he forced the fear from his face, holding me with a comforting firmness that made me feel safe. He hand stayed on my arm as he took a deep breath. "I don't understand what's going on here," he said. He started off soft, but his voice rose in volume and strength as he spoke. "Or why we're even here." He glared at Austria. "I want answers. Now."

For one deafening moment, Austria smirked. It was the cold kind, the one where you knew you've made a mistake. Sadiq quickly turned to me. In one swift motion, he lowered his face to mine. "Run to Larry right now," he hissed, his warm breath tickling my skin. His grip on my shoulders tightened until I could feel his nails dig into my muscles.

I opened and closed my mouth like a puppet, starting a sentence multiple times before stopping myself. "I… But I thought… I wouldn't…"

Sadiq glanced over his shoulder. Austria was approaching us at a deliberately slow pace. The steel glint in his eyes spoke of sheer enjoyment. I wanted to barf.

Sadiq swore, turning back to me. "Run. Now." He shoved me towards Larry. I stumbled the first few steps but then switched into a sprint. I wasn't a fast runner, but that didn't matter. I wasn't the target. Sadiq was.

Larry was still with the Netherlands, standing off to the side as the blond hissed at him in a low voice. Spain stood by the door, extending an arm towards me as I approached. He caught me by the waist, pulling me back into his chest. My head made sharp contact with his collar bone. "Let go!" I demanded, trying to shove his tight arms away.

He only held me closer. "Calm down, Sherry Sue," he ordered, leaning in to speak into my ear. Despite the firm hold he kept around me, his voice was soft and soothing. By instinct, I felt my muscles relax as all need to fight left me. He came in with Larry, right? That must mean he was on my side as well.

"Pay attention," Spain said, jerking his head towards the center of the room. "You need to keep your eyes on Sadiq."

My chest tightened. "And if I don't?"

"He'll break."

Without another word, I looked back at Saidq. I swallowed, my mouth dry.

Austria stood far too close to Sadiq, so close that their chests were practically touching. Austria held a hand on his cheek, though there was nothing virile about it. The hold was commanding, demanding Sadiq's face to stay aligned with his. "…you should remember it clearly," he was saying. "Himaruya disappears, leaving behind a pair of glasses. We want them back, but your girl refuses to give them up."

"She doesn't have them," Sadiq replied, his face set in stone.

"And you are a liar. Please stick to the truth so we can keep this simple."

"So Sadiq—" America appeared behind him, pulling down on his shoulders. Sadiq, knees already weak, fell into the chair I had sat in the moment I arrived here. "—do you enjoy putting yourself through pain," he asked. "Because we can make this as painful as humanly possible if you want to."

Every person in the room grew silent. I paled, all thoughts leaving me. I shifted my eyes between faces, seeing similar looks of bewilderment and shock. Jerry was as white as the walls, hunching his shoulders to make himself smaller. Denmark had to whisper something into his shoulder. It didn't make him less pale, but he seemed less taut.

Sadiq looked terrified. Golden eyes darted in every which way, searching for a way out. His chest rose and fell in quick spurts, like he was winded from a quick run. Yet, when he laid eyes on me, his neck rippled with a swallow. "I rather enjoy pain actually," he said. "Bring out your worst, jackass."

"If you insist." Austria stepped aside. "Bud, if you will."

America grinned cockily, cracking his knuckles with a loud crunch. He rammed his fist into Sadiq's gut. Sadiq gasped in pain.

Something clicked in my head. "Wait—" Spain slapped his hand over my mouth, holding me back as I started to struggle again. Spanish swears flooded my ears, but my mind was focused on the victory shinning the Austria's eyes. If I told them where the glasses were, they would stop hurting Sadiq. At that moment, that was the only thing that mattered.

I bit down on Spain's hand, causing him to yelp. When he still didn't release me, I kicked back my foot, bringing it straight into his groin. He didn't howl, but the hiss he gave was far from pleasant. His arms loosened around me. I pushed out of them, swearing as I stumbled over my feet. "Wait!" I shouted again. Every eye in the room was on me. "The glasses, they're—"

Larry seized my arm, twisting me towards his face as he constrained my mouth with his hand. "Shut up," he ordered, his lips red with blood. I wrenched my shoulders away from him, but his grip never laxed. "Stop struggling and think for a moment. This is part of their plan. Do you want them to win?"

I kicked at his leg.

Larry bit back a gasp of pain. "Let me handle this," he said.

I shook my head.

"I know you're upset, but just listen to me. I can handle this."

I bit his hand.

Again, he held back any signs of pain. His blue eyes gouged into my flesh, ripping apart whatever courage I had to stand up against him. "Sherry." His voice was of all sympathy he might have felt for me. Its austere tone made my stomach plummet. "Let me handle this."

I squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe he had a way of getting Sadiq out without us losing everything. With a reluctant air, I nodded.

Larry pulled his hand away from my mouth. The one wrapped around my arm slid downwards until his palm was wrapping around my hand. His reassuring squeeze congratulated me for my choice. I faced Austria and America fully, giving them a regal look. "I apologize for my sister's rude behavior," he said. "She has a tendency to think before she acts."

A chill arrowed down my spine. He sounded just like them.

"We understand her emotions completely," Austria replied, standing in front of Sadiq. "After all, that was what we were trying to do."

Larry grimaced. "Charming, though I always thought that you and your brother were above senseless violence. Don't get me wrong—you both have kicked my ass on numerous occasions. But that had a purpose and a good one at that. All you are trying to do right now is scare a harmless little girl."

"She's not a little girl and she is hardly harmless. It is because of her Himaruya cannot be standing here in his full glory. It is only her that can remedy that." Austria swept his arm through the air, giving us the sickening sweet smile only a villain could achieve. "If she would only give us Himaruya's glasses- the ones dear Sadiq gave her all those years ago -then we can be on our way."

"You aren't going to get them," Larry said. "You, your brother, and Matthias are going to listen to each of my conditions and meet them with complete honesty."

His skeptical brow jumped up his forehead. "And if we don't?"

I felt the warm tip of the blade before I saw it. It poked the sweaty skin on my neck with enough pressure to hurt without drawing blood. A shriek rose from my lungs when I saw the slender metal at the corner of my vision, though my voice died when I realized that it was Larry's hand around the handle. Holy fuck...

"What are you doing?" The Netherlands demanded, running towards him with large steps. I couldn't tell if Spain stopped him because he wanted to keep Larry's plan intact or because he didn't want me hurt.

All around us were faces of shock, some more panicked than others. Even America looked unsure, glancing uneasily between Larry's sleek knife and Sadiq's murder-gleaming eyes. I looked at Sadiq for a long moment, unsure of how I should feel. Did the hatred for my brother shining in his eyes make me feel safer or more in danger? I didn't know.

Jerry stood to the side with a gaping mouth, silent and sweaty. He turned his head in every direction until he found Denmark. Elevated on the tips of his toes, he whispered something in the Dane's ear.

I tried to figure out what I should do with myself. Larry was an irrational bastard, but he was not a psychopath. He wasn't going to kill me- that much I was sure about. I didn't know if it was the certainty in his visage or the clamminess of his hands that made me promise myself to trust his judgment, even if it was a shitty one.

But even with a conviction of my own, I could not stop the apprehension from rocking my body.

Larry spoke up, his voice booming throughout the Room. "When I said I would kill Himaruya, I mean it. There is no way I would allow you to ever get your hands on those glasses and if I have to kill the one person who knows where they are to ensure that, then so be it. "

Austria's thin lips tugged into a strained grin. "You wouldn't dare. She's your sister."

"I dare alright," Larry said, not showing a single sign of regret. "I don't think you realize how selfish of a person I am."

"You wouldn't stab her."

Larry revealed a large, Cheshire grin. "But I would." He turned that sardonic smile towards his brother. "Jerry?" Said brother shot his head towards Larry, looking at him with a cocktail mixture of fright and anxiety. "Didn't I try to stab you because I was upset that you were gay?" Larry asked. Even now he showed no sign of remorse, not even for scaring his brother half to death.

Jerry held his breath, realizing that all eyes were on him. "You wouldn't have done it," he said.

"Are you sure?"

He was quiet.

"I am not above killing my sister if it means defeating Himaruya," Larry continued. "Of course, that is a rather large inconvenience for you, Roderich, so I am willing to offer up a compromise."

"And if we don't?" Austria asked.

Larry shrugged before pressing the blade further into my skin. I yelped as the tip pricked my neck, enticing a few drops of blood to streak down the length of my neck. He rubbed a calming thumb into the back of my hand, a silent apology for his actions. I wasn't sure yet if I forgave him or not.

Larry did nothing more than that, yet the sight of the meager blood trails had instantaneous results.

The Netherlands lunged towards me again, only held back by the demanding shout in Spain's voice. America and Austria reenacted the motion on mute, the dark haired one being the more reasonable. Sadiq made no secret of his furry. "What the fuck are you doing?" he screamed. "You're supposed to be protecting her-"

Denmark, who seemed to be acting with less emotion than normal, calmly held him to his chair, his face blank of any sign of worry. He seemed to care for nothing else but the restraint of my friend, not giving even a single regard to the third Sue who held his hands over his mouth in abhorrence of his twin.

Austria straightened his suit, pushing America behind him with a leading hand. "What are your conditions?" he asked, keeping his chin high in the air.

Larry couldn't resist a smirk. "I knew you would come around eventually," he taunted. "At the root of it all, you are still a man who likes to make sick deals."

"What are your conditions?" Austria repeated, this time with an irritated frown.

Larry did not hide the victory in his voice. "First, you release Turkey."

"Fair enough." Denmark's hand slipped away from Sadiq's shoulders like shackles from a skinny wrist. Sadiq passed suspicious eyes between the henchmen, but wasted no time in rising to his feet and walking (quickly) from them. His sharp glare bore into Larry, a wordless warning to keep me unharmed. The reflections in the wall showed Sadiq fitting himself next to Spain, his feet spread and ready to fight.

"And your other condition?"

"I want to talk to Himaruya," Larry said, "right now."

I tried to hide my surprise, but the stunned look showed clearly on my face. Why? Why would he want to risk talking to that son of a bitch?

Austria mused over their options for a long moment, his fingers wrapped around the peak of his chin. The minute that passed was long and tense, dragging its muddy legs through the dense air. "I'm afraid that I can't let you do that."

Larry did not let his disappointment show. "And why not?"

"It's simply not on the board."

"When I said that all of my conditions have to be fully met, I meant it," Larry said. "If not..." He looked down at his knife. I prayed he knew what he was doing.

Austria crossed his arms over his chest. "I wouldn't stop you. Your sister may be the only person who knows where it is, but she is not a genius. I can find the glasses without her help, even if will be a massive inconvenience. So please- kill her. Just remember to wipe the blood from the floor afterwards. We have a certain level of cleanliness we like to maintain."

Larry tried to keep the mask on his face. Lord knows he tried, yet with the gritting of his teeth, it withered away like paper in water. His eyes shone with panic as he scrambled to keep his upper hand. He squeezed my hand until his hurt as sweat pooled into the microscopic gap between our palms. His bluff was gone, along with his upper hand.

I looked up at him with large eyes, begging him to keep it together. If he broke, I didn't know who could take control next.

"That would be unnecessary."

My first thought: "Why is Prussia here?"

Then I realized how stiff Larry became, along with Austria and America. They turned around, stepping back to create a path for the arriving nation.

Prussia did not look like himself. The white suit tailored to his gangly body made his white skin and white hair blend into the surrounding white walls. It was like the pair of red eyes set beneath his set brow had swallowed all of the color from his being. He walked with an awkward limp, aided by a white cane that struck the Earth with each thumping step.

Larry withdrew his knife from my neck, though he did not return it to its hiding place. He held it at his side, gripping it with pallid knuckles. "I see you're in Prussia's body already," he said. The cocky tone he had adapted earlier was gone, replaced by a careful, deliberate austerity.

I looked at Prussia again, remembering what Austria had told me earlier. Himaruya needed a new vessel. Estonia himself revealed that the monster had moved into a different skin. Was this different skin really Prussia? I studied him. While the cane and suit added some elegance to his appearance, the strained grimace on his lips was too casual to be real. The limp as well made my toes squirm. He was Himaruya and Himaruya did not get hurt.

"I see that you are covered in blood already as well," Himaruya replied. He spoke to Larry like they were old friends shaking hands at a high school reunion. Yet, beneath the pleasantries, I could feel the taut strings pulling between them. "You really are quite reckless, Mr. Sue."

Larry shrugged. "I am not the one who looks like shit."

Himaruya laughed.

He freaking laughed.

"Amazing. You are still an amusing person, even after all this time." He looked around, landing his eyes on America. "Bud, if you would?" America stared at him, uncomprehending, before suddenly realizing what he wanted. A white table with three chairs formed between us, one chair on Himaruya's side and two on ours. "As you can see, I am a little weakened in this state," Himaruya explained, carefully sliding into his chair. "Much of my soul is in those glasses, but I will not let that interfere with being a good host. Please—" He presented our chairs with a gracious hand. "Take a seat. Both of you."

Larry released my hand to pull my chair out for me. The thought of sitting so close to Himaruya made bile rise to my throat. "No! I can't!"

"Don't worry about it," Larry said. "We're just talking."

"Just talking?" I shrieked. "He's…" The biting look on his face shut me up. I pressed my lips together, realizing what the harsh lines in his forehead were telling me. He was playing a game again, one against Himaruya. The tense, but friendly air surrounding him was part of it. My shrieking and refusal to participate was ruining it.

Hurriedly, I sat in the seat, disregarding Larry's help as I scooted my chair up to the table's edge myself. Nausea swirled in my stomach, in my head. I forced my attention on my breathing, ordering my lungs to take deep breaths in and out. I didn't notice that Larry was sitting next to me until he nudged my side. He coughed, indicating to Himaruya. What now? Was there something else I was forgetting to do?

"Aren't you going to apologize?" Larry asked.

Oh. "I'm sorry," I said, wearing an obviously false smile. Once again, I thanked my uncanny ability to lie on the spot. "I didn't know what came over me."

"That is perfectly fine, Ms. Sue," Himaruya said, giving me that refined smile. He motioned to Bud again and a tea set appeared in the middle of the table. "Everyone becomes flustered every now and then. And Mr. Sue, here." He pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket, handing it to Larry. "Please wipe the blood from your mouth. It's very unbecoming."

Larry accepted it without hesitation. "Thank you. I forgot about that."

"Humans tend to do that. If I remember correctly, you do not like sugar in your tea."

For some reason, a wry smile stretched across his face. "I don't like it when people sweeten things for me," he said. "But I still like cream."

Their tactful banter continued on like that for some time, none of it going anywhere. I was too afraid to open my mouth to take part of it. Nonetheless, I was so worried about ruining Larry's scheme that I was afraid to turn and look at Sadiq behind me. It was one of the few times I was grateful for the mesmerizing walls around me. I saw Sadiq's reflection stare at Himaruya with hollowed eyes. He wiped his palms on his slacks, occasionally turning to hiss something at Spain, who would then hiss something back. Spain himself seemed rather calm, though he never ripped his eyes from Larry. Only the Netherlands had his attention somewhere besides our table.

I followed the line of his vision until it ended on Denmark. The lanky man stood to the side with Jerry, both hands on his shoulders as they watched us with intent expressions. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't read Jerry's thoughts. Was he rooting for us or for Himaruya?

Himaruya placed a porcelain tea cup onto its small plate with a loud clink. "So why did you want to talk to me?" he asked at last.

Larry batted his lashes. "Trying to get rid of me already? I thought you were enjoying our tea."

His mouth twitched. "Careful, Mr. Sue. I find you amusing, but my patience does wear thin." He paused to give Larry a scant moment to process his warning. "What is this about?" he continued. "Do you hope to bargain for your brother's soul?"

To my surprise, Larry shook his head. "Not at all." Larry leaned closer into the table, taking a moment to sip his tea. He said, "I know better to make bargains with the devil, even if it is for the return of my brother's life. I really just wanted to ask you one thing: Liechtenstein and Seychelles. What did you do to them?"

Himaruya raised a brow. "You care about Seychelles?"

"Not particularly, but I presume my sister does."

Himaruya leaned back in his chair, humored. "And what if I said I have no idea where they are?" he asked. "Would you believe me?"

"Obviously not."

"Well I would have to confess that my ignorance on the matter is the truth. You would have to ask—"

"He's lying." We turned in our seat, amazed to see Spain step forward. A spiteful frown coated his mouth, as he sent a dark look towards the man in question. "You know where they are," he said. "The true creator knows it."

Himaruya raised a brow. "'True creator?'" he repeated. His empty laugh filled the air. "Are you implying that I have no role in the creation of this universe? Everything here is credited to me, Aluino. This 'true creator' has no claim."

"You have no claim," Spain spat back. "All you are is a false ruler with no real sense of justice."

A bang shattered the stillness of the Room as Himaruya slammed his hand on the table, rattling the delicate tableware. Standing, he met Spain's eyes with a ruthless snare. "Justice is blind, but it is never fair. You and I both kno—" He ended in a scream. I blinked, realizing that it was my brother who was pushing the knife into the hand on the table. I screamed as well. Larry kicked back at the table. Broken shards porcelain scattered across the floor like a halo. He rose to his feet, standing strong and victorious.

He took my hand and pulled me up as the space around us broke into chaos.

Sadiq was dashing towards me, but realizing that Austria was also heading our way, changed directions to confront him. Spain leapt over the mess of the table, landing his feet on the advancing America's chest. They too started to fight, one that was quickly becoming bloody.

I searched the growing mess for Jerry, finding him by Denmark still. The Netherlands approached them both as if they were wild animals, speaking in a low voice I could not hear. I could not find an explanation for the pain on his face.

Larry looked at me for a miniscule second. He did not waste time by speaking, though his eyes told me enough. He was making this up as he went. The violent reactions of his friends were nothing but their own decisions. He patted my hand, a silent "be safe," before striding back to the table. It lay onto of Himaruya, who was struggling to push it off his chest.

Larry walked slowly, observing the mess with a tactical eye. "This is pathetic," he said, reaching down to pick up the abandoned cane. He turned it in his eyes, regarding Himaruya with unfeeling eyes. "I thought you had more in you."

Himaruya grinned. "I do."

Austria rammed Sadiq into the wall. Something cracked in Sadiq's ribs, causing him to scream. "Sadiq!" Forgetting where I was, I started for him, realizing too soon that Austria was heading torwards me. The man grabbed me by my hair, tossing me around him like a rag doll. Pain seared through my scalp as I screamed at the top of my lungs. A hard blow butchered my spine, sending me to the ground. Austria dug his knee into my back, pulling my face off the ground by my hair.

Larry stood at the fork of the road, caught between finishing his job and helping me. His eyes glanced around the room, seeing America's brute strength crashing into Spain's face. My vision was starting to become blurry, though I could barely make out the shattered pieces of porcelain sticking out like claws between America's fingers. Even the animal in the Dane the Netherlands had tried so hard to appease was attacking. He lashed out a few messy blows, each his opponent was able to dodge easily. Yet, the Netherlands refused to strike back.

Larry bit his lip, thinking. I could see every thought, every possible solution passing through his eyes.

Suddenly, he cried out, dropping the cane. He held his burnt hands in front of him, seeing blisters form on the pads of his palms. In his moment of distraction, America turned from Spain long enough to throw the table from Himaruya. It crashed into Larry, sending him into the ground with an unpleasant sound.

Himaruya stood above him, twirling Larry's knife between his fingers. "I am very sorry about this," he said, almost sounding sincere. I wasn't convinced. "I have things I must do, and while I do not care to harm you, I must continue with my plan, so—"

"That is enough."

The noise around me died away as time itself seemed to have paused. Every Hetalia character froze in their spots. Boots clicked on the ground as someone entered the room behind me. I strained to see who it was, but the frozen Austrian on top of me had me pinned to the ground. Himaruya straightened as Larry craned to look and quirked a brow. It was Spain's reaction that gave me a clue as to who they were seeing.

Face bleeding from multiple slashes, he dipped into a low bow, a hand over his heart. "True creator," he said, "you're here."

"Yes I am and not a moment too late. You gits have done a wonderful job making a mess of things."

I wanted to hit something. I knew that voice. I knew it far too well.

England stepped into my line of vision, wearing a similar suit as Himaruya and I. His acid green eyes regarded Himaruya with a cold gaze. "Hello brother," he said briskly. "I hope to confront you one day, but that will have to wait. Right now I need to save the day and grant these numskulls a deus ex machina."

Himaruya looked between England and my brother. Larry was looking at England with a gleam that could only be admiration. "I don't think I have much of a choice."

England smirked. "No, you don't."

The falling sensation crashed onto me as my sight started to fade away. I struggled against it, trying to look at Jerry for one last time. No matter how much I fought, no matter how much I prayed, my sight disappeared before I could see him. I swore and let myself go. I felt myself falling

and falling

and falling

and falling

a

n

d

. . .

---

MW: You all knew Jerry was going to make an appearance. You all knew it. As for England… well, back during FG, a reviewer by the name of Pimp with a chainsaw guessed that England was Himaruya, so he was the closest anyone got to guessing it. Our long chapter ended up giving us two plot twists. That must have been exciting, though now we have to hope that I have something that can top these two up my sleeves.

Like I said earlier, I'm going to try to update this one more time before the school year starts. After that, I hope to end it before the end of 2014. I mentioned this vaguely on tumblr, but I should also say it here: I have no idea yet if I am going to continue writing fanfiction after my senior year of high school. I know that I will finish every story I've started thus far, but beyond that, I'm not sure. Just a far off heads up.

Thank you all for reading. I hope everyone has a wonderful rest of the summer.

Notes

"Putains! Allez vous pendre avec vos bites!" You do not want to know what this means, or any other French word France said in his rant.

Next Chapter: Team Sherry and Team Larry finally come together, though some people are quicker to clash than others. And what is the true creator doing in that body?

Thank you for reading! Please review, favorite, follow, or spread the word if you feel so inclined! Thanks!