Missing Scotland.

France sighed and glanced at the fight anxiously. He could see splashes of red. He had texted England 30 minutes ago and the pub was only 10 minutes from his house.

He heard a loud thump as Scotland managed to elbow America in the nose, starting a nose bleed. Both looked like they might need to go to hospital after this. Scotland's bottom lip had just burst. He was really worried for him and America.

They seemed equal in a fight so far but Scotland was tiring and he was beginning to be affected by the few of America's blows that managed to hit their mark.

America had a lot more injuries but far less serious ones, mainly bruises.

France knew that Scotland had given up on winning and only wanted to hit America until he passed out. He just wanted to take out all his anger, all his pain, out on the blonde who he found so annoying.

The door swung opened and a pale dirty blonde with bandaged face and a black eye stumbled in weakly, holding an umbrella but still somehow angry looking and intimidating.

"France, you git! What the hell do you mean by 'Ze beginnings of War World 3 are hap-"

He stopped when he caught sight of the two brawling nations crashing into view. They slammed into a chair, knocking it over as they wrestled on the ground.

France waved at him, across the bar. "Angleterre! Stop zem!"

England stumbled, limping quite heavily up to the bar so he could lean on it. He was in his PJs and slippers and France could see lots of bandages wrapping parts of his body. He was amazed the English man could move, let alone walk here in the rain.

England knew he had to stop the fight.

He reached over the bar, muttering some censored language as the wood dug into his stomach. He grabbed a glass and filled it shakily with water from the soda hose. (Or whatever you call those squirty things)

He flung the water over the fight.

Scotland, who was on top trying to punch America in the mouth, looked up and snarled like an animal.

His eyes were a livid green that seemed to glow with rage; it reminded England of the old wild Scotland who resembled an animal more than a human. The Scotland who roamed around the hills, hunting and living off of the land, the 'free' Scotland. His heart ached at the sight.

Scotland's green eyes dulled back to their regular eye colour as he recognised the bruised blonde. France watched silently as the fury filled green faded instantly into cold emotionless emeralds, slightly impressed but mainly concern. There was quite a bit of blood mixed in with the water. America looked sharply up at England.

"Dude? What was that for?"

Scotland looked back at America remembering that he was there. Scotland rolled off the blonde and stood up.

He wobbled when he stood up and France stepped forward to support him but Scotland held up his hand to stop him.

America sat up and glared at the red head.

The red head didn't look back at him, instead he stared at England. He spat out a bit of blood to the side. England didn't look at him, he looked at the ground as if ashamed or embarrassed, pretending not to see Scotland glaring at him.

America tried to stand up but slipped on the blood and water on the floor. He glared between England and Scotland.

"Leave him alone dude!" Scotland glanced at America.

"Duin do bheul eejit! Thu eil mi 'tuigsinn! "

The three counties looked in surprise as Scotland began speaking Gaelic. He rarely spoke his language in front of anyone except for Ireland and Wales.

America looked confused, not recognising the language.

France just shrugged, showing he recognised his friend's language but didn't know how to speak Gaelic either.

England just continued staring at the ground, leaning against the bar.

Scotland huffed. He turned and headed for the door into the bathroom. He spun around too fast and almost fell over. France ran over to support his friend. Scotland slapped away his hand.

"Ná bain dom!"

France looked really hurt to be rejected by Scotland like this. He stumbled from hitting away the helping hand and France instinctually reached out to catch him again. This time though, Scotland didn't just knock away his hand, he shoved the Frenchman with his remaining strength so that the blonde stumbled aback a few steps.

"NÁ BAIN DOM!"

He yelled before knocking over a nearby table angrily. He stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door loudly. There was the sound of wood cracking, showing that he had probably broken the door.

England sighed while France just stared at the door. America managed to stand up and began walking to the bathroom, wanting to finish the fight. "Amerique!" France pulled America back away from the bathroom.

"Hey dude! Quit defending him! He deserves this!"

"Non!"

"Yes! I'm going to beat him!"

"Vous are not thinking clearly!"

"But it's his fault Dude!"

"No. It isn't Scotland's fault." America and France turned surprised at England's sudden comment in their fight. France scowled at him.

"Oui! Zit's thiz foolish Angleterre's fault!"

"Be quiet Frogface! You just left him too, you git! This is not all my fault!" France didn't argue back to America's surprise. He looked at the toilet's door in a sad way, he look like he regretted something badly.

"Wait up dudes! What are you talking about?" England sighed irritated at the lack of America's knowledge. France shook his head. America huffed.

"Seriously! What are you talking about?" England just shook his head.

"I'll tell you after we give you some first aid." America looked started and looked at his reflection in the water on the floor.

He looked like Crap with a capital C. He nose was bleeding and the blood was smeared against his face. His face was red and swollen from repeated hits. His blonde hair was matted with the blood flowing from the injury on the back of his head.

"Oh…." England rolled his eyes and winced slightly. The bar man who had gone into hiding at the beginning of the fight, came out of the back room with a first aid kit.

"Here you go old chap. I didn't want to disturb the fight but this might help." He placed the first aid kit on the bar.

"I would help the angry red head first though. His injuries seemed much worse than this man's." He glared at the American, obviously blaming him for starting the fight.

"I think he might have broken his knuckle and a couple of ribs. Most of the blood seems to be his as well." The barman seemed really concerned for Scotland's health.

America just huffed stubbornly before swaying. France lifted out his hands and caught the young nation. England grabbed the first aid kid and limped over to the nearest table. France dragged the semi-conscious blonde to the table. France checked America's injuries.

"Don't worry Angleterre. Zit's just ze head wound zat is bad. Ze doesn't appear to have a large blood lost. Mainly bruises. And a broken nez. " England nodded, preparing the first aid kit. France held the America in place who seemed to be glaring at the bathroom.

"America! Pay attention!" England snapped. He sounded really tired and weak. The barman brought over some warm water and towels. He glanced at the bathroom.

"Don't worry. Once we bandage America's head, we will help him."

"Oui. He only has a small cut on the back of ze head, a broken nose and some bruises."

America grumbled loudly as England washed the blood from his hair.

"Ow! That hurts dude!"

"Well don't get into fights you wanker!"

America rolled his eyes and washed his face with one of the towels.

His nose was no longer bleeding. His jacket needed a wash and so did his trousers, after being sprayed with the blood and water from the fight.

France left with some of the supplies to go and check up on Scotland in the bathroom.

England wrapped a long stretch of cloth bandage around and around his head tightly, stopping the bleeding. He placed a special plaster on his nose, to help the nose heal faster.

"There. We can sort out the bruises later at my house."

A loud wail from the bathroom made the two blondes turn their heads. France ran out.

"Angleterre! Amerique! L'Ecosse has vanished!"

(A/N - Yay cliff hangers! I have been told to change the layout of my storys to make it gramatically correct. and easier to read. Thanks for the review and the tip. I'm going to do that. AKA - I'm going to have a new paragraph for each time someone different speaks! YAY!... Unfortunatly i'm going to have to go back and change all my previous stories and chapter... See I do read your reviews and take them into serious consideration. I might use some of them too, like this one. SO REVIEW!

Gaelic translations (Scottish Gaelic)

Duin do bheul eejit! Thu eil mi 'tuigsinn! - Shut your mouth idiot! You don't understand!

Ná bain dom! - Don't touch me!

I tried to be as accurate as possible but if someone who can speak Scottish Gaelic reads this - Tell me! Am I accurate? I feel so paranoid about it cause I used my old dictornary.)