AN: Yay! More John and Sherlock! Also reviews give us life so please review!
Arthur started to walk down the street, but quickly stopped, realizing he had completely forgotten to give Sherlock a description of Peter. Walking back to the flat, he let himself in almost as if he had never left. "Sherlock?" he quickly questioned, looking back up the stair well.
"We're still upstairs," John poked his head outside the door, staring at England. "What did you need?"
"I bloody forgot to tell you Peter's description." He smiled sheepishly, quick jogging up the stairs.
"He has brown hair, lanky build and is a rather pale fellow, correct?" Sherlock asked sitting in his black leather chair.
"Why yes, but how did you-?" England stared in bewilderment.
"Obvious deduction, my friend." Sherlock replied. "Now leave. I need to think."
"Of course." England nodded. "Sorry to bother you again."
"Don't worry about it," John said trying to cover for Sherlock's obvious lack of social skills.
"Did you notice this man had any quirks? Stutters, anything out of the ordinary?" the consulting detective suddenly asked.
England pondered for a moment as he had to think. "Well his English was rather broken as we departed," the nation said before he paused. "If I'm correct he jumped from English, to Spanish, to German."
"Well then," Sherlock said standing. "Shall we go, John?" He turned to England, nodding as if telling him he may leave.
"And just where are we going?" John asked as Sherlock went to leave the room.
"To the crash site. Obviously this whole mess started there," came the brash reply.
"Are you going to look for debris of the rocket?" England questioned looking between the two.
"Of course not," Sherlock scoffed. "We're going to look for your friend "Peter Williamson", an obvious alias."
England nodded, seeing he was of no further use. He quickly turned around and left the flat this time for good.
Sherlock reached over and grabbed his coat and scarf off of the hook. "Coming John?" Grabbing the door handle, he stepped outside of the flat and began walking down the street.
When the pair reached the crash site, Sherlock looked back and forth trying to focus his vision, seeing as it was already dark outside.
"This couldn't have waited until morning?" John complained, looking at the wreckage.
"None of the evidence will be here by morning," Sherlock replied, stepping closer to the plane.
"What do you mean?" John asked as he bent down to look at the shards of metal.
"Think about it," Sherlock said standing. "If you shot an American plane down in the middle of England, you wouldn't want people to track you. So first think you're going to do is get rid of the missile you hit the plane with."
"There would be so many fragments, there's no way a person could collect them all."
"That's the thing," Sherlock squatted down next to John, picking up a piece of metal. "This wasn't a person." Standing up, he held a flashlight up to the metal, observing it carefully.
"Not a person?" John was confused, as he focused his gaze on the object Sherlock was holding. "What do you mean?"
"We're dealing with a nation."
John paused a moment. "A nation? But how is that possible? There are no new nations."
"That the media currently knows of." Sherlock set the piece back on the ground before he pulled out his pocket magnifying glass. "But if you actually look into private information about different countries, you'll have known Germany, Italy, and Spain all dropped off the map as of yesterday. Their countries have come to a complete halt."
"What? How is that possible? And why hasn't the media said anything?"
"They don't want the people living in the country to go into a panic. Without a nation, it's impossible for the country to continue." Sherlock looked around the clearing, taking in his surroundings.
"But the countries are still technically running, which means those Nations still need to be alive."
"Obvious deduction John," Sherlock replied before he clicked the flashlight off, leaving the two in total darkness.
"Where do you think they are?" John asked looking up at Sherlock.
"That," Sherlock paused, "I don't know yet. But I'm sure a new nation is at fault for this."
"What makes you think that? That seems like an odd deduction, even for you."
The detective steepled his fingers under his chin again. "I see it this way, America was on his way to visit Germany when his plane was shot down here. I'm assuming after Germany didn't reply to any of his calls, since he was missing, America decided to fly over."
"And how did you come to that?"
Sherlock smiled as he turned back and pointed at the debris. "That piece of metal we were looking at. It's actually part of a coordinates system that built into every American plane. If you looked very carefully, you'll see the coordinates he was going to were directly in Germany."
John looked like he was going to say something then paused. "So you're saying that this new nation didn't want America to make it to Germany?"
"It's a possibility. Or maybe, the new nation was already in England. Don't you find it odd that America was shot down so close to England's home? And the job itself was very sloppy, almost as if it was decided at last minute? You can tell by how the missile entered the back of the plane's tail." Sherlock paused stroking his chin.
"I did notice that actually," John commented.
"It was almost like they were trying to kill two birds with one st-"
"Buonasera, gentlemen!" A sudden voice came from the clearing behind them.
Sherlock paused as he slowly turned around, seeing a dark figure approaching them. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed his flashlight flicking it on. Peter, stopped as the bright light hit his eyes, "Oh-a my!" he laughed, trying to shield the light. "That-a thing sure is-a bright!" He sauntered forward slowly, sinking his hands back into his pocket.
"You have a very thick Italian accent," Sherlock commented, looking rather unamused.
Peter only laughed, waving it off casually. "I guess-a you could say that, my friend."
"Well then," Sherlock lifted a single eye brow. "Now that I can see you for myself, I can clearly see I was right."
"What are you talking about?" Peter's accent suddenly disappeared.
"You're obviously a sick mish mash of the missing countries. Your sense of style alone is a weird twist between German and Italian while your hair style indicates you're Spanish."
Peter suddenly started to laugh as he slowly pulled his hands out of his pockets. "I guess they don't call you a great detective for nothing." He grinned menacingly. "You're right, I am a nation and you may call me New World."
"That's a terrible name for a nation," Sherlock scoffed, remaining rather calm.
"Haha, is it?" New World grinned as he slowly began to back up. "I figured it would suit me well. Just imagine, an entire world, ruled under one nation." He laughed. "World peace."
"That definitely sounds terrible," John chimed in. "Merging everyone and destroying diversity would start World War III!"
"Would it now?" New World snickered. "I guess we'll just have to find out." He clicked his nails together, remaining smug.
John stared at the man, his brow furrowing. "So where exactly are the other nations?" He snarled, his old soldier reflexes kicking back in.
New World tilted his head to the side in a distorted manner, "Why don't you ask your friend? I'm sure he knows by now."
John turned his gaze to Sherlock, only to see the man staring at the nation in pure disgust. "What?!" John questioned.
Sherlock looked over at Watson and sighed. "He's absorbing them. Every nation has an ability, I'm assuming his is some form of absorption."
"You really are as clever as they say." New World laughed, "But too bad, you're only a man." He suddenly lunged forward grabbing John by the neck and holding him against the plane. "So let me put this for you very clearly," he paused, his grin growing wide and psychotic. "Stay out of my way. I let you know my plan, because frankly, I know you can't stop me. So you can go back and tell England whatever the hell you want. I don't care." He squeezed harder, cutting off John's wind pipe. "But let me warn you," he slowly turned his head towards Sherlock. "Don't try to get in my way again. It'd be a pity if John suddenly stopped breathing." He gently stroked the man's face, suddenly dropping him. John fell to his knees gasping for air. "As I absorb the countries, I absorb their abilities. I'm sure you already know Germany's, so let's all just play nice." Smirking, he slowly began to walk away. "To be honest, I was surprised England showed up when he did. I was going to absorb America right then and there, but like you said, two birds with one stone."
"We're not just letting you walk away!" John cried as he lunged to his feet. He suddenly started to sprint forward.
"JOHN NO!" Sherlock tried to reach out and stop him but it was too late.
New World slowly turned around, giving John a brief glare. And it was instantaneous. Within seconds, the former army doctor could feel a sharp pain run through his chest, causing him to collapse to the ground.
New World began to laugh manically. "Like I said, what a shame." Chuckling, he disappeared into the woods, covered by the shadow of night.