Alfred stared at the cheap painting that hung on the wall, his leg vibrating with energy. He was trying and failing to distract himself. He woke up his phone for what was probably the twelfth time, only to toss it onto his bed and grumble irritably. "Still no service."

His brother leaned against a wall. The way he passively watched him, with his all-knowing expression and narrowed eyes and concern and absolutely no fear was driving Alfred nuts.

"Your temper is bad enough under normal circumstances," Matthew stated. "People will begin to notice. Didn't Arthur catch you with your pills today?"

Alfred shrugged half-heartedly. "I needed it."

Matthew nodded towards the empty orange bottle standing on the shared table between their beds. "You've been needing it a lot lately."

Alfred shifted restlessly. It was getting too hot in this room. "I've been too busy to pull back."

Matthew removed himself from the wall and turned a chair to face the bed Alfred was sitting on. "Well if you don't want to get help from the outside then we're going to have to make time to get you off them naturally." He held up two fingers. "Two month vacation. No people, and no medicine. Just us, fresh air, and the mountains."

Alfred was about to explain why that was a stupid and horrible idea when the lights went out, leaving them in total darkness. Matthew quickly felt his way to the window and opened the curtains, which didn't help much since the night was rather cloudy.

"Something's happening," Alfred growled softly.

"Four star ratings don't make places immune to simple electrical problems," Matthew chastised gently.

Alfred shook his head. "While both of our phones conveniently have no service? No, something's happening. I can feel it."

He could hear his brother's frown in the near total darkness, to which Matthew rolled his eyes. "You're being paranoid again. Stay here while I go down to the front desk."

"I'll go too." Alfred began to rise, but Matthew pushed him back onto the edge of the bed.

"You're not in the best state of mind to deal with people, right now. Much less French hotel staff and confused civilians."

The blond Nation huffed and sat back down, his arms crossed tightly. "…Fine. Hurry up, though. Don't make me worry. I've got a bad feeling."

Matthew threw a reassuring smile over his shoulder. "I'll be fine, Alfred."

Arthur was just back on his floor (with the executive suites) when the power went out completely. This wouldn't have been a problem if the hotel room doors didn't have electronic keycard locks.

'And this,' Arthur mused without humor, 'is a grand analogy of how quickly added security turns against a person.'

Of course this meant he would have to make his way down the stairs to the front desk and find out what they were doing to fix this. Perhaps a cup of tea, while he was at it.

Germany peeked out of one of the doors down the hall, muttering something to his brother inside as he stepped out and shut the door behind him. He and England exchanged polite nods.

"I was just about to head down to the front desk. Mein Bruder is incorrigible without air conditioning, these days."

"I'll join you," Arthur said, hoping he sounded more polite than he felt. "Misery loves company,"

Matthew was just exiting the service stairwell to the first floor when something whizzed past his head and hit the wall behind him. Well-honed instinct took over, and he ducked into the side hallway. He pressed himself against a wall.

"Which one was that?"

"The blond one with glasses."

"Which blond one with glasses? There's like, three."

The other snorted lightly in response. They didn't sound disciplined enough to be military, but they clearly knew who they were looking for. Matthew pressed his lips together. They were probably also to blame for this power outage and the phones. Alfred had been right about something happening.

"Doesn't matter. He went left."

Matthew turned and ran as silently as possible away from the occupied lobby. He nearly collided into France, whom he quickly grabbed by the wrist and pulled him in the same direction.

Francis did not question this. He seemed to sense something was wrong, and was content to wait until they were safe to ask.

Matthew crowded Francis into a broom closet and shut the door quietly. He leaned close into France's ear in the darkness. "Do you know what rooms the others are staying in?"

"Oui."

"I need you to Jump into the rooms and make sure they stay in there," Matthew instructed. "These men are after us. They have weapons. It is safer for the civilians if we don't cause a firefight."

Francis nodded, before pulling his former ward into a brief hug. "I will. But when this is over, let us help you and your brother."

"E-eh?"

Francis was already gone, leaving only the faint scent of roses from his Jump. There were voices on the other side of the closet door. Then it was torn open while Matthew was still knelt in a vulnerable position on the ground.

"Found one," the black-clad man smirked into his earpiece. He raised a strangely bulky rifle, there was sharp stinging pain in Matthew's shoulder, and the darkness enveloped his senses entirely.

Alfred felt a jolt in his chest that made him sit straight up. Something was up with Mattie.

Just then, there was another sensation. A familiar, crawling one that started at the base of his spine and shot its way up. Then that too-warm feeling spread into his limbs, making him shudder.

Alfred shook his head violently. No, he didn't have time for this!

The power was out. Phones were out. He couldn't account for the other Nations, but he knew Matthew was out there. Coincidence was unlikely.

Already he could feel their connection getting foggy. Like Matthew was either unconscious or moving too far away. Neither situation was acceptable.

Alfred got to his feet, ignoring the strange ringing in his ears. He was needed.

England and Germany were all the way down to the second-floor when they saw three men dressed in all black coming around a corner with bulky guns. One fired, but it was nearly silent. Likely an airgun of some sort. As Arthur was thinking this, Germany pulled him down just in time to avoid the projectile. It broke like glass somewhere behind them.

Arthur swore. "Tranquilizers!"

"Run!" Germany barked, pushing him roughly back up the main stairs.

Much as it galled Arthur to do so, they were unarmed. Arthur took the stairs two at a time, Germany just on his heels. They were fast, and the humans had no chance of catching up anytime soon. That was something, at least.

"We need to get to my room," Germany whispered once they were on the fourth-floor. "Gilbert can let us in, and we'll barricade ourselves."

"And then what?" Arthur bit out in an equally hushed tone. "Wait around until they find a way to get the doors down? Hide like rats?"

"Do you have any better ideas? The only exits are likely covered."

Arthur opened his mouth to answer, and then closed it again. His wand was locked in his room. He had nothing.

Francis Jumped into the Italies' suite just in time to stop Feliciano from going out to investigate.

He jumped at the sudden fright. "G-eh, Francis? Why are you—?

Francis shushed him quickly with the same instructions he'd given everyone else so far. "There are men with guns outside. You need to stay here. Don't open the door. Don't go near the windows."

"Is everyone alright?" Feli asked immediately.

"Everyone else is staying in their rooms," Francis promised, hoping that wasn't a complete lie.

Romano's sleepy voice sounded from the connecting room. "Ngh…Fratello?"

Feliciano bit his lip, speaking quieter this time. "Please be careful."

Francis squeezed his shoulder affectionately before Jumping to the next Nation's room.

"Amerique, there is something—"

But the room Mattieu shared with America was empty, with the door broken and hanging loosely on its hinges.

'Merde.'

Alfred's steps were silent as he quickly made his way down the stairs. He'd already found one of the attackers on his floor. The attacker had a tranquilizer gun, which made it all too obvious what had happened to Matthew.

And what was worse…

"Who do you work for?"

His opponent had gasped tightly in pain as his head was slowly pressed into the wall. Is a human skull tougher than plaster and brick when pressure is applied evenly?

"V-van! Outside…in there…"

An American!

Alfred scowled at the memory. Traitor. Traitor, traitor, traitor.

It had taken so much not to pummel the bastard any more severely than he already had. He hated turncoats as much as any other Nation did. Maybe more.

When all of this was settled, he'd see to the traitors personally.

An overwhelming pressure rammed itself into Arthur's preternatural senses the moment he got to the fifth-floor landing, making him waver. Germany was there to steady him. "What is it?"

Arthur shook his head in an effort to banish the feeling, but it wasn't going away. "I don't know…" All he could discern for sure was that it was wrong and close by.

"We need to switch to the service stairs at the other end of this floor," Germany decided. "They'll catch us if we don't change our course."

With effort, Arthur forced that strange feeling into the back of his mind. The danger of an angry spectre paled in comparison to the very mortal danger they were in right now.

Arthur was barely keeping up with Germany now that they were running on a flat surface, which made him wish he'd kept up the cardio exercise routine when he last attempted it. His lungs felt like they were on fire.

The pressure was getting harder to ignore. Germany suddenly skidded to a halt, not even breathing heavily from the exertion. "Do you feel that?"

Arthur blinked, wheezing. "You—can—feel it—too?"

Instead of answering, Germany pointed down the wide, darkened hall.

Near the opposite wall, one figure seemed to have his hands clamped on the wrists of a smaller figure. Just looking in this direction made Arthur feel slightly nauseous for some reason, but he couldn't quite tear his gaze away as the smaller one was shaking his head, pleading with the taller one to let go. To just please let go and, 'no, please no—'

The taller one twisted until something cracked, and the smaller one dropped to the floor. The attacker made to walk away, but apparently decided he wasn't done. Because then he stomped violently on the small man's chest.

Arthur could hear the distinctive sound of a broken collarbone from halfway down the hall.

Germany didn't seem to have as much of a hang up as he did in approaching. Germany straightened and barked authoritatively over the victim's cries. "Stop that, you'll kill him!"

The tall figure twitched.

"Identify yourself!" Germany demanded, his steps measured and forceful. "Now!"

The figure had gone unnaturally still. Like a statue. He wasn't even looking in their direction. Now that they were closer, Arthur could just make out a familiar cowlick and the faint gleam of glasses.

"Alfred?"

The American's entire body did a strange spasm, and he breathed in suddenly as though starving for air. Alfred looked up confusedly, and then down at the moaning man. He stumbled back. "Wha—no, I was just—…" He stared down at the man at his feet, hand over his mouth as though not quite believing what he'd just done. He was sweating in a way that couldn't be explained by the lack of air conditioning, and his breathing was uneven. "W-what floor am I on?"

"Fifth floor." Arthur stopped, eyes wide. And that horrible, stomach-knotting feeling was coming from his own former colony. "Alfred? What's happening to you?"

"I don't—nothing, just—" He muttered something under his breath, shaking hands clenching and unclenching. "Get somewhere safe. Not downstairs. That's where I'm going."

Germany looked down at the victim again, and the twisted tranquilizer gun that'd been thrown to the ground. The man had clearly already been beaten before finally being felled. His wrists were purple with bruises. "We can't let you go down there, America. Not alone."

"Youcan'tcomewithme!" When both Europeans jolted, Alfred shook his head violently. "You can't—you just can't."

"You need to get ahold of yourself," England said. He stepped forward, and America stepped back. England raised his palms. "You're being completely…Alfred, are you listening?"

Alfred was still, again. Staring down at the man on the floor again. A breathless little titter came out of nowhere and scraped unpleasantly against both Nations' nerves. "Stop me."

Alfred spun about and sprinted for the other stairway. Germany and Arthur both made to pursue. Germany almost had his collar but his fingers met air as Alfred reached the end of the hall and skipped the first flight by jumping the railing down to the next. Then to the next, and so on.

They were left staring down the stairs after the crazed Nation.

The bad feeling was gone now.

Arthur was the one to break the silence. He cleared his throat with effort. "That…that wasn't him." His eyes fell to the twisted lump of gun again. And the body that definitely wasn't breathing anymore. He felt sick. "Was it?"

Germany exhaled slowly; his expression deeply troubled. "I don't know."

Francis got to the last room only to throw up his hands in frustration. Prussia was gone, too. But at least he hadn't broken the door open.

'You'd think some of us had common sense in a crisis such as this!'

Nothing to do for it now but to go find Mattieu again and tell him that his brother was out and undoubtedly had some half-baked cliché rescue mission in his head.

He Jumped again to the first-floor supply closet he'd last seen Mattieu in, but was dismayed to find only drag marks. Mattieu must have been taken.

Then he heard screams.

So we've got some super obvious differences from the old one at this point. And hey, a longer chapter!

I'd love to hear what you guys think of the changes so far.

Later dudes. ^J^