Family Ties [Part 36]
Title: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): England, Wales, Ireland, Lithuania, Russia
Rating: 12
Warnings: Disturbing themes, Russia.
Summary: Uh, I need to be banned from the kink meme or monsters like this happen? Essentially, Scotland leaves the UK, which gives Northern Ireland an excuse to up and out as well, which leaves England and Wales all alone. Oh yeah, and this somehow leads to World War Three.
The sun was barely up, and Wales was packing up.
He folded clothes with practiced motions, not really thinking of anything but at the same time letting thoughts run through his head at lighting speed, not focusing on any of them. The dawn was gray, the newly leafed trees swaying slightly in the breeze outside the window. Deceptively peaceful. Canada was a lucky boy not to have been attacked himself, as of yet. It was always worse fighting battles on home territory.
Which, unfortunately was exactly what they were going to have to do.
"Darren?" Arthur rapped his knuckles on the doorframe, peering in to check on his brother. "Are you nearly done? Our flight leaves in three hours and check-in is a pain in the first place, Portugal's already left for the Med and we're fresh out of tea."
Wales stuffed some shoes into the side pockets. "Almost there." he muttered. England leaned against the wall to wait for him, green eyes going in and out of focus. "You alright?"
Unusually, his brother checked the corridor. "They've taken Birmingham." he uttered lowly. Wales stopped where he was zipping up the suitcase, eyes widening.
"How many?"
England's lips thinned. "About thirteen thousand casualties."
"Shit."
Green eyes tried to focus on the floor, though it was clear he was having trouble. "That's why we're going back. We need to keep how bad this is getting under wraps. If morale falls far enough then we'll lose the battle in a different way."
Wales hefted the suitcase off the bed. "You hate it when they worry about you, don't you?" it was less a question, more a half-affectionate, half-resigned statement. "There are better ways-"
"I need to be with my people, Darren." Arthur cut over him. "They- they targeted the schools and- two and a half thousand of them were children, Wales." he drew in a deep breath through his nose, pushing off the wall. Wales placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
"Alright. We're going." he assured.
England wobbled after him down the stairs, still unsteady but coping well. "James really is off his rocker."
Outside by the car, Ireland paced impatiently, a permanent frown that had been stuck since Northern Ireland disappeared. "No doubt about it. But if we actually beat him back up into his own territory, we could do a counter-invasion."
"Oh joy, invading Scotland, haven't done that in the past three hundred years." England muttered dryly. "I'd like to do that as a last resort, or maybe to liberate him, if I'm still allowed to use that language."
"I'm gonna start using some bloody language if y'don't get out here sharpish!" Ireland yelled, stressed out and at her wit's end with invasion dizziness.
Wales looked out the back window as they drove away into the morning, and hoped that this wouldn't be the last time they came here.
---
Call him paranoid, but something was watching him.
The most frightening sensation; just out of the corner of his eye something would move, and when he turned to look there would be nothing but a shadow, or a lamp, or a table. Normal objects. But still a draft at his neck, despite the approach of summer, like some terrible beast lingered just out of sight.
Maybe it did.
It definitely did.
He could feel the creeping cold around him, and he'd just received a frantic call from his Boss that Russian forces had been spotted invading. Poland hadn't replied to the text he'd sent. Nobody had replied to the texts he sent. Not even Estonia and Latvia.
It wasn't paranoia if there really was someone out to get you, right?
"That is true, da."
Lithuania's heart stopped and took a couple of seconds to remind itself how to work. Wheeling around, he was finally confronted with Russia, standing in the back door to his house, pipe in hand and that smile that meant so many terrible things.
"You know, talking to yourself is a very bad habit, Lithuania." he observed cheerfully. "People can hear you. They may even think you're crazy."
Toris hadn't realised he'd been backing away until he hit the wall. The Russian advanced. "But you know what's crazier than talking to yourself?" he asked, smile growing ever wider. "Well?" All words were clogged in the brunette's throat, caught in a net of terror and making it harder and harder to breathe. Russia answered for him. "What is crazier than talking to yourself, is disobeying someone in higher power than yourself." Alien violet eyes sparkled with unholy glee. "Your brother Estonia is crazy, da?"
"No..." the word choked out before he could stop it, and Russia seemed to take delight in all the fear and terrible understanding it held.
"Oh yes." he tapped his pipe against his palm, what looked like rust on the faucet appearing more and more like dried blood the longer Lithuania stared. "He decided he could only do it to one of my toys. Make them obedient that is. Very disappointing, even if that one result is impressive alone."
Anger and resentment and hate churned beneath the surface, but couldn't bubble past the long-learned terror. "What did you--..." his own sentence died in his mouth, half formed. Russia was nearly upon him, just a foot of space between the two and it was not enough to breathe.
"Oh don't worry, I took good care of him, and of little Latvia."
The ground rumbled, and for a moment Lithuania thought that Russia had created something to horrible that hell itself was opening the ground to swallow him up. Ivan did look rather confused as to where the rumbling was coming from. All misunderstanding was solved when Lithuania's wall exploded.
"Bitch oh no you didn't!"
Notes:
- Back to college, sob. Updates will now be less frequent.
- Birmingham is a city in the north of England. It's pretty big. Scotty's traveling along the coast mainly, taking over from there and then spreading downwards.
- I will admit that I had fun with that last line.
Part 37
Characters (in this chapter): England, Wales, Ireland, Lithuania, Russia
Rating: 12
Warnings: Disturbing themes, Russia.
Summary: Uh, I need to be banned from the kink meme or monsters like this happen? Essentially, Scotland leaves the UK, which gives Northern Ireland an excuse to up and out as well, which leaves England and Wales all alone. Oh yeah, and this somehow leads to World War Three.
The sun was barely up, and Wales was packing up.
He folded clothes with practiced motions, not really thinking of anything but at the same time letting thoughts run through his head at lighting speed, not focusing on any of them. The dawn was gray, the newly leafed trees swaying slightly in the breeze outside the window. Deceptively peaceful. Canada was a lucky boy not to have been attacked himself, as of yet. It was always worse fighting battles on home territory.
Which, unfortunately was exactly what they were going to have to do.
"Darren?" Arthur rapped his knuckles on the doorframe, peering in to check on his brother. "Are you nearly done? Our flight leaves in three hours and check-in is a pain in the first place, Portugal's already left for the Med and we're fresh out of tea."
Wales stuffed some shoes into the side pockets. "Almost there." he muttered. England leaned against the wall to wait for him, green eyes going in and out of focus. "You alright?"
Unusually, his brother checked the corridor. "They've taken Birmingham." he uttered lowly. Wales stopped where he was zipping up the suitcase, eyes widening.
"How many?"
England's lips thinned. "About thirteen thousand casualties."
"Shit."
Green eyes tried to focus on the floor, though it was clear he was having trouble. "That's why we're going back. We need to keep how bad this is getting under wraps. If morale falls far enough then we'll lose the battle in a different way."
Wales hefted the suitcase off the bed. "You hate it when they worry about you, don't you?" it was less a question, more a half-affectionate, half-resigned statement. "There are better ways-"
"I need to be with my people, Darren." Arthur cut over him. "They- they targeted the schools and- two and a half thousand of them were children, Wales." he drew in a deep breath through his nose, pushing off the wall. Wales placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
"Alright. We're going." he assured.
England wobbled after him down the stairs, still unsteady but coping well. "James really is off his rocker."
Outside by the car, Ireland paced impatiently, a permanent frown that had been stuck since Northern Ireland disappeared. "No doubt about it. But if we actually beat him back up into his own territory, we could do a counter-invasion."
"Oh joy, invading Scotland, haven't done that in the past three hundred years." England muttered dryly. "I'd like to do that as a last resort, or maybe to liberate him, if I'm still allowed to use that language."
"I'm gonna start using some bloody language if y'don't get out here sharpish!" Ireland yelled, stressed out and at her wit's end with invasion dizziness.
Wales looked out the back window as they drove away into the morning, and hoped that this wouldn't be the last time they came here.
---
Call him paranoid, but something was watching him.
The most frightening sensation; just out of the corner of his eye something would move, and when he turned to look there would be nothing but a shadow, or a lamp, or a table. Normal objects. But still a draft at his neck, despite the approach of summer, like some terrible beast lingered just out of sight.
Maybe it did.
It definitely did.
He could feel the creeping cold around him, and he'd just received a frantic call from his Boss that Russian forces had been spotted invading. Poland hadn't replied to the text he'd sent. Nobody had replied to the texts he sent. Not even Estonia and Latvia.
It wasn't paranoia if there really was someone out to get you, right?
"That is true, da."
Lithuania's heart stopped and took a couple of seconds to remind itself how to work. Wheeling around, he was finally confronted with Russia, standing in the back door to his house, pipe in hand and that smile that meant so many terrible things.
"You know, talking to yourself is a very bad habit, Lithuania." he observed cheerfully. "People can hear you. They may even think you're crazy."
Toris hadn't realised he'd been backing away until he hit the wall. The Russian advanced. "But you know what's crazier than talking to yourself?" he asked, smile growing ever wider. "Well?" All words were clogged in the brunette's throat, caught in a net of terror and making it harder and harder to breathe. Russia answered for him. "What is crazier than talking to yourself, is disobeying someone in higher power than yourself." Alien violet eyes sparkled with unholy glee. "Your brother Estonia is crazy, da?"
"No..." the word choked out before he could stop it, and Russia seemed to take delight in all the fear and terrible understanding it held.
"Oh yes." he tapped his pipe against his palm, what looked like rust on the faucet appearing more and more like dried blood the longer Lithuania stared. "He decided he could only do it to one of my toys. Make them obedient that is. Very disappointing, even if that one result is impressive alone."
Anger and resentment and hate churned beneath the surface, but couldn't bubble past the long-learned terror. "What did you--..." his own sentence died in his mouth, half formed. Russia was nearly upon him, just a foot of space between the two and it was not enough to breathe.
"Oh don't worry, I took good care of him, and of little Latvia."
The ground rumbled, and for a moment Lithuania thought that Russia had created something to horrible that hell itself was opening the ground to swallow him up. Ivan did look rather confused as to where the rumbling was coming from. All misunderstanding was solved when Lithuania's wall exploded.
"Bitch oh no you didn't!"
Notes:
- Back to college, sob. Updates will now be less frequent.
- Birmingham is a city in the north of England. It's pretty big. Scotty's traveling along the coast mainly, taking over from there and then spreading downwards.
- I will admit that I had fun with that last line.
Part 37