Bar fight!
A few drinks later and the two were like old friends. Scotland pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Seconds later there was a small splash of water in his face.
"Nae cigarettes! Ye ken that Iain!" Flora reminded him. Scotland huffed and threw away the wet cigarette.
"Come on Flora. Just one. It's late!" Scotland did a fake whine, pulling out another cigarette but not lighting it.
"Nae Iain! It's tha law!"
"But I been waitin' all night fer one. Just lemme hav' one." Flora rolled her eyes and turned away, settling the argument.
Scotland sighed huffily before he pushed himself away from the bar, stood up, walked to the door and opened it.
"Fuck! It's still rainin'…."
The gentle shower from earlier was now pelting down in huge drops. Luckily there was still a little light out and wasn't completely dark yet. He called back to the bar.
"Hey Flora. De ye hav' a brally?"
"Aye."
"Canne I use it?"
"Ta smoke a damn cigarette? Nae on yer life. Either git wet or donnae smoke yer health away."
"Ye remind meh of an annoying blondie 'hero' who always yappin' on aboot smoking tah…"Scotland scowled before sighing heavily and walking outside.
Russia glanced worriedly at the door before shooting a glare at Flora. She and Scotland were friends but the girl annoyed him.
"Edjit…. He's gonnae catch a cold…" Flora watched the door, unaware of Russia's anger and waiting for Scotland to come back in. "You cannae smoke in tha rain." She informed Russia before attending to other costumers.
Scotland was outside for 15 minutes before he re-emerged with water dripping down the spikes of scarlet hair. His clothes looked soaked through but he ignored the wet and the cold.
"Hows yer 'cancer stick'?"
"Dandy." He muttered but he smiled anyway. He had only placed an unlit cigarette in his mouth to chew when an angry voice called out.
"HEY IAIN!" The three people turned around. Scotland groaned when he saw the drunken brown haired man. "AYE! I'MMA TALKIN' TA YE!" The man stomped over. Scotland drank a shot.
"I'm with meh friend…. Canne ye sod oof and botha meh anotha day." Scotland sounded stressed by the man but fairly calm otherwise.
"NAR! I wanne a rematch!" Scotland rolled his eyes.
"Why?"
"I wanne a rematch!"
"Thomas! Quit botherin' me otha guests!" Flora snapped. The angry man, apparently named Thomas, ignored her.
The brown haired man grabbed Scotland's wet hoodie roughly. Russia stood suddenly, towering over the scene angrily, with a fake smile plastered on his face. The terrifying purple aura oozed out and envelope the poor man.
"KolKolKolKolKolKolKolKol" The man cringed and backed away in fear. He mumbled with a glare.
"Are ye hiding behind this mannie, ye bassa? Where's yer pride?"
Russia stepped forward, ready to kill this idiotic man who dared to threaten and insult his precious pet. He was stopped by Scotland's hand on his forearm.
"Lemme handle me own fights."
Scotland stood up and something washed over him. He no longer looked like a normal human, he was more wild and animal like now. His bright green eyes flashed with determination and power. He seemed like a completely different person. Thomas noticed this too so grinned before swinging a fist.
"So yer finally gonnae be serious!" It was dodged and the fight began.
The drunken man swung his fists wildly and angrily but none of the blows hit. They were easily avoided by the green eyed man.
"STOP RUNNIN'! Ye Coward!"
The man screamed in rage. He was silenced though as a fist slammed into his nose. Scotland's knuckles pounded into his face repeatedly. Blood was soon flowing heavily from the man. Some of his rips were broken as was his nose and lip. His upper arm was fractured but a strong side punch. The fight's outcome was clear.
Scotland over powered him easily and threw the man over the shoulder and into a table. Glasses smashed as the table toppled over, cutting Thomas. The man laid still for a moment before pushing himself up a little.
"Stay doon. Ye lost." Scotland spoke calmly but it was clear that power dripped from him. Not a single punch or kick had hit him. The man gritted his teeth. Flora sighed.
"I hope ye and Thomas are gonnae pay fer tha'… The ambulance will be here soon fer ye Thomas." Flora had called them as soon as Scotland had stood up, the instant he changed. Everyone in the bar ignored the fight, it seemed to be a common occurrence and easily predicted.
Russia stared in amazement at the bloodied man. Thomas's blood had splattered him a little but it was easily soaked in and spread around by the wet clothing. Scotland sighed and pulled at the bottom of his wet hoodie.
"Gawd… I hope this doesnae stain. It was new." He muttered to himself, turning back to Thomas.
Russia stared openly at him. He looked glorious with the blood matching his hair and his eyes still glowing and alit with power and adrenaline from the fight. He looked similar to a god of war. He felt the strong urge to collect him immediately.
Thomas glared angrily at the back of the red head's back. He saw a sharp shard of glass on the floor beside him and grabbed it. He lunged at Scotland while he was distracted with the blood on his sleeveless hoodie. He plunged the sharp like a dagger into his stomach.
Scotland had managed to turn around slightly, sensing the danger and attempting to dodge the attack instinctually but the distance between them had been too short. The glass torn through the cloth, skin and flesh. Scotland gasped a little in shock.
Russia grabbed his lead pipe and slammed it into the back of the brown hair man's head. He slumped forward as blow bounced off his head. Flora gasped as she realised what had happened.
"Thomas? IAIN? Oh my gawd! He stabbed ye!" Flora jumped over the bar and rushed to his side.
Scotland grabbed Thomas's arm, which still had a grip on the glass, and yanked it away from him. The glass stayed in his side. Scotland squeezed the arm until he held a snap. The body twitched as the pain shot through it. Thomas groaned in pain though he was unconscious. The red head eyes were burning with rage.
"How dare ye attack when meh when me back is turned!" He hissed angrily. Flora flinched at the sound.
"Iain?" She asked cautiously, worry soaked into her voice. His head snapped up and when his eyes met her brown ones, the intense emotion burning in them, cooled down to a small spark.
"Oh Flora?" He looked down at Thomas, a little puzzled looking. "Ahhh… Sorry. I lost mehself."
He let go of the broken arm and Thomas dropped to the ground. Flora knelt by him.
"Geez… Ye dinnae have ta break his arm or smash his head in like tha', you two!"
She laid the brown haired man on the floor flat and began examining him. Russia grabbed Scotland worriedly.
"Are you okay? How bad is it?" Russia was burning with anger and worry. He let his special pet get hurt while he was with him! How could he let that happen? He was bleeding! He was going to kill that man! First though, he had to help his redhead.
Scotland held the hoodie's fabric slightly apart so he could hold the glass. He held it tightly and gritted his teeth before pulling it out quickly. Russia panicked a little.
"You can't pull it out, da! You will bleed to death!" Russia wailed loudly, devastated by the injury and the sudden increased flow of blood. His blood!
Scotland rolled his eyes. He dropped the red shard on the bar counter and sat down on a bar stool, watching Flora perform basic first aid on Thomas.
Russia glared at Flora. Why was she helping him? His red head was stabbed by that man! The ambulance men arrived moments later, pulling Thomas onto a stretcher and carrying him out the door. Flora had to explain the situation to them. One came over to Scotland.
"Och Iain! How come every time I come to a pub during work, it's 'cause ye hammered someone!"
"Hmmm~… Luck?" Scotland grinned. The ambulance man sighed and eyed the torn hoodie hole and the large stain of blood around it.
"Ye git stabbed?"
"Aye but it's nae bad and it'll be healed in a couple of hoores."
"Aye then. We'll just be leaving then. Tha's man gonnae git in truble fer hurting ye."
"Only if they find oot" Scotland pointed out slyly.
"Fine! I wonnae say a thing 'cause I ken tha' by tha time ye git ta hospital, yer wound will be goone. And 'cause I owe ye." They shook hands like close friends and the man turned away to go back to the ambulance. Russia grabbed the man.
"You are not going to take him to hospital?"
"Nar. He'll be fine." Russia glared at him.
"He was stabbed, da. He needs to go to hospital!" Scotland placed a hand on Russia, trying to get him to calm down.
"It's barry."
"Barry?"
"Means good."
"Nyet! You are not good! You have been injured, da!" Russia said angrily. Now was not the time for his pet to deny his injury and bleed to death. He would not let him!
Scotland lifted up his hoodie and the t-shirt to show the cut. The blood had already completely clotted and the edges of the cut were healing. It was about 2 and a half inches long and a half inch deep.
"See." Russia stared at it. A line of red on pale muscly skin. It was healing inhumanly quickly. Russia smiled again, relieved.
"So you are fine, da?"
"Aye! Of coorse! Who dah ye think I am? England?" Russia giggled as Scotland put his shirt back down and let the ambulance man go.
The man hurried away, terrified of Russia and needing to return to the ambulance so they could take Thomas to the hospital. Flora began to pick up the other bits of broken glass and drop them in a bin. The sorted the toppled table before returning to the bar where Scotland and Russia were sitting again, talking. Scotland had managed to calm down the tall man and they were mostly back to normal.
"Geez Iain. Ye dinnae gah with tha ambulane men?"
"Nee. Ye ken meh. I'm dandy." She rolled her eyes.
"Yer weird. Ye and yer freaky body. Ye heal tah quickly." Scotland gave a loud laugh.
"It's meh 'freaky body' which has kept meh alive." Flora smiled.
"Aye but yer still a state." Gesturing to the blood. Scotland nodded with a small eye roll.
She turned away and let them continued with their drinking. She knew that Scotland was fine despite the injury and blood. It seemed to be common knowledge for everyone else in the pub as well.
In Scotland's house...
France arrived back at Scotland's house with four shopping bags of dark chocolate and other ingredients for other recipes he wanted to cook.
He breezed into the kitchen happily. He had been gone two hours, mainly buying chocolate and the other stuff. But he had admittedly spent half an hour trying to pick up girls at the shop. He had come very close once but then her husband showed up…
He glanced around the kitchen and wasn't surprised to find Scotland not here. The castle was huge and he was gone a while. He suspected that the red head was roaming around the castle or just outside.
He began breaking up the chocolate and placing it in a bowl to melt over hot water. A note on the fridge caught his eye. He pulled it off and looked at it.
It was addressed to him…
He guessed….
Scotland had bad handwriting. He read the note, trying to interpreter it. Deciphering it took a while.
'Francis.
Ye took tah long so I left. Havin' sex with a Scottish lassie doesnae count as havin' sex with meh! I hav' a bloomin' girlfriend so git ova it and hav' a cold shower!'
France laughed loudly reading this part. According to France, no matter what Scotland said, it did count.
'Anyway, I was gonnae hang aroond fer a while but then Russia showed up and invited me fer a dram. I decided ta gah. Might be back tahnight, might not.
Scottie.'
France paled. He re-read it again and again, checking it.
Scotland had left to go drinking with Russia!
England had only told him two days ago not to let Russia near Scotland and now he was away from the red head for only 2 hours and Russia managed to take him away right under his nose. His perfect, beautiful nose! What was he going to do?
Scotland could stand up against America so he might be okay….
But what if he passed his limit? He already had three whole bottles of whiskey. How much more alcohol could he handle? Quite a lot but there was no knowing how long Scotland had been away drinking with Russia. 2 hours was a lot of time to drink a lot of alcohol.
God! What would Russia do to him? He panicked. England said Russia was interested in him. He didn't want his best friend to be collected! Look what happened to the Baltic trio! He just to go to the pub they were in and rescue his drunken friend!
Two problems….
Scotland didn't say which pub he was going to….
And Russia terrified him….
Maybe he could call England….
"Damn to L'Ecosse! Forcing me to call Angleterre!" He dialled the number of his rival and sighed irritated and relieved when England's voice came through.
"Hello? You are speaking to Arthur Kirkland, England." France huffed.
"Angleterre! I need y~"
"Fuck it Frog." The line went dead. France phoned again.
"Hello? You are speaking to Arthur Kirk~"
"Russia is with ton frère!"
"WHAT?"
"I left L'Ecosse alone at home for a couple of heures and when I came back he was gone!" The line was silence but he could still hear England breathing. "Angleterre?..."
"Didn't I tell you not to let Russia near my brother?" He hissed over the phone angrily. France glared into the phone.
"Do not take zat tone with moi!" He snapped. "Russia shouldn't know where L'Ecosse livez! Only tu and ton frères et moi 'ave zat info! Russia doez not know ze frères so zat meanz zat tu must 'ave said!"
"How he know where my wanker of a brother lives is not the fucking problem! Where are they?"
"Zat I do not know. He'z at ze bar though."
"A bloody pub? Damn it! I was hoping that the git would remain sober… He will be defenceless if that damn Russia gets him drunk."
France paused. England sounded very openly worried about Scotland. That was rare. He knew that despite the brother's open hatred and many quarrels, past and present day, they still had some brotherly love. How much they had was a mystery but the blonde assumed not a lot… Maybe it was more than he thought…
He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Right now was not the time to ponder how much the two loved each other.
"What zhould we do, Angleterre?"
"That is obvious, Frogface. We go search for that git and make sure Russia doesn't do something to him!"
"Oui."
"Wait at Scotland's house. I'll be there soon!" The phone was hanged up and France was forced to wait for England's arrival.
(A/N - England and France to the rescue!
Thomas is someone who Scotland fights with sometimes but usually when sober and it's a planned fight. However the man was drunk and jealous and angry that he never won so he lost control of himself. He was just a violent drunk.
I don't have much to say at the moment... REVIEW!
Review because I need to know if you like the way the story is progressing! I also nned to know if you liked a certain story and why so I can write more types of that story. It's also important because they motivate me... I run out of motivation so easily...)