The Fanboy- Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: After a particular adventure with lemons, a battle strikes.
Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, homophobia, yaoi, violence, and blood.
Disclaimer: I own nothing about the Fanseries concept.
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~Chapter 3~
Blood and Lemons
"Reality is determined not by what scientists or anyone else says or believes but by what the evidence reveals to us."
-Alan Hale, American Movie Actor and Director
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THE WAR: DAY 5
"It's been three days- I can't believe you are still upset about it," Alfred said as he watched me as take another upset bite of my lemon. Sitting on a crate in the storage room, I whimpered at the sour taste and took another bite. Although it was small and humid, the room was the only place where we could have a fair amount of peace. Everywhere else there was always someone trying to talk to me, get into my pants, or both. Freaking perverts. The only thing preventing me from ripping my own hair out was the fact that this is all just a dream and soon I was going to wake up.
Sitting on his own crate, Alfred took a mindless bite from his own lemon. I wanted to eat meat like a real man, but the ships cook, Ukraine (I'm sorry, but my ex-girlfriend was an exchange student from Ukraine. Call me racist, but I am not going to call that woman something that reminds me about that bitch. Eh, I'll think of a nickname or something), told me that I had to wait for dinner. I was then going to skin Sokka and eat his meat, but the Netherlands over heard me and confiscated the cat "until I stopped vagina-bleeding".
Remind me to forever call periods that.
"How can I not be upset?" I dryly sobbed. Not a second later, I winced from the juices seeming through the bandages on my hands and attacking the open skin of my blisters. I couldn't wait for those to heal- it was hell having to deal with constantly aching hands. Heck, I couldn't even write unless I was into self-inflicted pain. "I saw them, together. Having sex!" I snapped. "They're brother and sister! That's sick!"
All he could do was sigh again. "You know Larry, you seem like the kind of punk who would have an incestuous lover," he said, flickering away his finished peel. Casually, he reached into the crate behind him and took out another lemon. "Why dontcha have another? Don't want to get scurvy now, do ya?"
"I would rather be scurvy than have to live with these freaks!" I threw my finished peel against the wood door. "Do you even understand the crap I've gone through so far?"
Alfred, with his mouth full, nodded excitedly. "Mump! Moo Mah M'oo-" A loud choking sound echoed up his throat. Gagging, he banged his fist against his chest and spat out the chewed up yellow pieces.
I didn't even blink. I simply rolled my eyes and answered myself. "In three days, I've had about twenty attempted seductions, thirty knives thrown at me, witnessed one sex scene, gave Prussia three surprised erections, and had to learn how to pee sitting!" I kicked my foot against the nearest crate. "The worst part is the fact that even after all this bull, I still have no idea who this Gilbert guy is!"
"Well I don't think it's all that bad," my mentor huffed, adjusting his glasses. "I think that everyone here is kind of fun. Especially Denmark. Dude, that guy is awesome."
My look turned condescending. "That's because you're an idiot."
He suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed at me. "What about Belarus?" he asked. "I know that you're a girl now and shit, but deep down you're a guy and you have to admit that she has a nice rack."
My visage was only reinforced. "This is the 17th century," I said. "Do you guys even use that word?"
"You're avoiding the question, Lar."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "Fine then. She's a freak. Her brother is even freakier. I wish that those two can go off to a ditch somewhere and just die."
Alfred's immortal smiled faltered and morphed into a frown. "You shouldn't say things like that," he gently scolded. I glared at him. Wow, for a guy who was supposed to be my moral support and leverage, he was acting too nice. If I was him, I would be hanging myself by the neck off a twenty story building until I was terrified to disobey him.
"Did I really just think that?" I wondered, glaring up at my eyebrows. "What the heck, brain?" Before I could even think of there was a light scratching on the door, followed by a loud meow. It looked as though the Netherlands had finally released my cat.
"Oh, you poor thing!" A woman cooed. "Here, let me open the door for you." We froze and exchanged a look. Yesterday when Turkey's passes became too much, I threw my beef stew at his face. F-cups (You like Ukraine's nickname?) rewarded me by slapping my wrists with a wooden spoon. It would not be a good idea to cross her again.
Sensing the future pain, Alfred jumped from his spot and started gathering the old peels off the ground. He threw them back into the lemon crate, which I closed a millisecond before the door was opened. Sokka's paws patted the ground as it briskly jumped onto my lap.
Smiling warmly, I ran a hand down its back, saying, "Sorry for leaving you outside, pal."
"Alfred, Lichtenstein: what are you two doing in here?" We went rigid. F-Cups stood at the door with her hands on her hips and a parental look of disappointment on her face. Her cropped, blonde hair only emphasized her narrowed eyes.
Alfred- even though he was the densest idiot I knew -could tell that he was in trouble. Politely, he coughed into his fist and straightened his brown vest. "Have no fear, Ukraine. She and I were just talking."
Her look turned to me. "In here?"
I shrugged. "This is the most private place around," I told her, a hand lingering on Sokka. "Everywhere else all of those perverts are trying to get a glimpse of my tits."
F-Cups have me a pitiful smile. Pitiful, but understanding. Her eyes looked down at her chest before up at mind. "Honey, you have it easy," she said, kneeling at my feet and gently taking my hand in hers. "If we took away that ribbon, you and Switzerland would look like mirror images of each other. Believe me, you are the lucky one."
I frowned. "What makes you say that?"
She sighed. "Look at me-" She groped her chest for emphasis. "-my bosom is bigger than my head," she explained. "People are either intimidated or attracted to them." F-Cups motioned to Alfred. "Like our little human friend here." I looked at the blonde and saw that his light blue eyes were aimed directly at her boobs. I didn't blame him; every single movement, no matter how small, made them bounce happily. My inner male wanted to gawk at them all day, but the thought of Stella kept my eyes true. Would she like it if I was picking up a crazy woman with f-cups while she was in a hospital dying?
When he ignored her, F-Cups pressed her lips together and stood. Muttering an "oh crap", I inched away as she marched straight up to the boy and grabbed his ear. Alfred yelped in pain as she pulled it as far away from his body as possible. "What the hell, Ukraine?" He yelled, swearing and pounding his fist in pain. "Would you fucking stop it?"
"You men are all the same," she declared, huffing under her breath. "I do nothing, yet you insist on always staring at my chest."
Alfred's eyes pleaded for me to stop her and save his dying ear. I considered for a moment of just letting her continue her punishment, but he would probably become more annoying with a disability. If he couldn't hear anymore, I bet he would be speaking even louder than he already did.
Taking Sokka into my arms, I slid off the crate and approached F-Cups. Playing the cute and innocent girl, I childishly tugged on her shirt sleeve, saying, "Miss Ukraine, can you please forgive Mr. Jones? I'm sure that he didn't mean it. Is that right, Alfred?"
The boy fiercely nodded, practically crying, "Oh yes! Yes, yes, yes! I am extremely sorry for staring at your boobs! It wouldn't happen again, Ma'me. You can count on me! My old man once told me . . ." At that point, the two of us just stopped listening.
F-Cups sighed and released him. "I'm sorry I lost my temper," she said kindly, wiping a finger under her eyes. Oh crap, was she silently weeping? That was just fantastic- I'm a guy and guys can never help but to feel panicked when they see a woman cry. "I really hope I didn't hurt your feelings, Alfred."
His ranted ended. I took a breath of relief.
Then, another one started.
"Aw, don't cry, Ukraine! I was being a jerk ass and completely deserved it!" He practically yelled, patting her back in comfort. "And besides, you cannot hurt the hero's feelings! We heroes are built to be solid and strong and unbreakable. We do not feel anything but the pride of prevailing justice and freedom!"
A small, bitter chuckle sang from F-Cups' mouth. "You sound just like a liberal."
Sokka meowed, stretching out his back before finding another comfortable spot on my lap. I took it as his sign to speak up and return to the conversation. "I'm sorry if I sound naive or something, but I still don't understand why big boobs are such a big problem," I said. "Yeah, guys always stare at your chest and stuff, but that's because it is a desirable trait."
The woman looked down sadly and seemed ready to cry again. I didn't get it- how can one woman be so strict, yet such a cry baby? Running her fingers through her short hair, F-Cups held back her emotions long enough to say, "It's bad when that is your only attractive quality."
I knitted my eyebrows together. "What do you-"
"You!" For those wondering, that was my death wish calling. Grumbling, I glared up at the ceiling. It sounded as though Belarus had some reason to point her blades of death at me. A small wave of fear flushed over me, but I ignored it. I knew that as long as that woman kept her knives away from me, I could handle this easily. The problem was that she took whatever opportunity she could to wave them at my face.
F-Cups looked up as well, a small look of confusion on her face. "You?" She repeated, still sniffling. "Why is my sister calling you that?"
Taking Sokka into my hands, I shrugged. "No idea, ask her."
She laughed. "It's such a cute pet name," she said. "I guess she really does have an attraction for you."
"I'm not a lesbo!" I all but yelled. With the cat held tightly to my chest, I angrily stomped out, muttering about the stupidity of fags. Frack, I am a straight. What will it take for these punks to realize that I do not want to have gay sex with any of them. Heck, I had no idea what was straight or what was gay anymore. I was a guy and a girl at the same time. "Stella should be happy- I can't have straight sex with anyone here now."
I hadn't even realized that my feet were taking me onto the deck until I felt the warm sun on my pale skin. I took the moment to just stand there, eyes closed, Sokka at my boson, feeling the heat. It felt as though I was starting to wake up: the feeling of the real world slowly seeping into this dream one.
Then Belarus had to be a broad and ruin it.
"What the hell, Liechtenstein!" A second later, Belarus had me by the collar, lifting me a full inch off the ground. Squeaking, I dropped Sokka and raised my hands in the universal sign of "don't kill me". At least her knives were still hidden. That was good. Shaking me, Belarus's upper lip curled as she yelled, "I have been looking for you for the past ten minutes. How the hell do you think that is acceptable? If you want to be able to walk around freely, you have to pick up work. Got it, doitsu?"
I scowled, remembering the sight of her and Russia in bed. I shuddered at the very thought of both of them doing such a disgusting, hideous, sinful act. I hope they freeze in hell for it. And I don't mean Hell, Norway. Glaring, I fiercely yanked her hand off of me.
Apparently, that was a deadly move since the crew stopped whatever they were doing to chorus a collective 'ooooh'. The first mate stared at me with disbelief, as if she could hardly believe that I would dare to cross her. I paid none of them any heed and rightfully snapped, "If you want me to do any work then you have to start treating me with respect. I'm not your slave."
Belarus looked ready to strangle me, but my words had hit her. Instead, her arms shook with need and want to kill me. I watched them, waiting for them to reach under her dress and pull out her knife. "You may not be my slave, but I am your superior and my words are law," she growled. She harshly grabbed my arm, stuck a mop into my hands, and shoved me towards the bow. "Now go mop the deck, bitch."
I grimaced. "So it's no longer 'You'?"
She struck me. Gasping, I felt the inside of my mouth begin to bleed. The bitter iron taste made me sick. At least it distracted me from the pain buzzing in my head. "Next time, it's going to be a blade," the blonde warned. She again shoved me a few feet, ordering, "Now get to work."
For a minute, I stood there and massaged my face. Jesus Christ, the hurt enough for it to be real. I might have been a little angrier at her if it was, but I knew that I was in the hospital still. I was right next to Sherry, waiting with her and Bella for Stella. I frowned. How was my brat of a sister doing? Could she really be alright- especially with those dreams she'd been having? What if that strength I saw her have was just an act for me to feel safe? Or what if that strength came from what caused those dreams?
If only I knew . . .
"It's a little bit too quiet," I realized. I looked up and saw that the entire crew was staring at me. Were they shocked? Why? I did nothing special. Was it my injury? It had to be- Belarus wasn't all that scary. I sighed and released my cheek. It still stung, but I could live with it for now. "What are you guys looking at?" I demanded. I smoothed out the shirt of my blue dress and readjusted the cuffs of the sleeves. "I'm a tough girl, I can take a hit."
Their stares continued until Belarus screamed again for everyone to go back to work. A song of muttering gathered in the air around me. I heard bits and pieces, mostly just realizations that I really was Switzerland's sister. It served them right- just because I looked innocent didn't mean that I had to be.
Or so said the eleven year old yaoi fangirl.
"Why is everyone here so dense?" I muttered under my breath as I took my mop got to work.
Even though The Romanov looked like every other stereotypical pirate ship, I still had to admit that it was gorgeous. The tall masts extended high into the air and kissed the crisp blue sky. The sails were like clouds and the ropes that extended from them were a forest. The deck that I mopped was a dark mahogany. It shined under the sunlight, making me smile with comfort. Stella's hair did the exact same thing . . .
"That was really gutty of you." Raising an eyebrow, I looked up and saw that the Netherlands was working a few feet away from me. He was perched on the rails leaning over the soft waves, hands retying the ropes. His long legs were bent, the knobs of his knees sticking out like a spider's. He said, "Not a lot of people can stand up to her."
I huffed and rolled my eyes, saying, "Please, she is nothing more than just a bitter old whore."
"If you keep on holding your mop that tightly, you're going to reopen your blisters," he said digressively. Scowling, I slowly released the pressure on the handle. The pain I didn't know I had disappeared. "But as I was saying: Liechtenstein, you sound really bitter. Did your one night stand with her not go too well or something?"
I never had such a strong urge to hit someone with a mop before in my life. "How could I ever have sex with that woman?" I demanded as a vein throbbed at my temple. "She's a psychopathic whore! Did you know that she had sex with her brother, hm? Do you understand how gross that is?"
The Netherlands absently scratched his chin, saying, "Wow, Liech. You make it sound as though you've never heard about their relationship before."
The sound that left my mouth was not human. In fact, no being on this planet could have replicated it. I let the mop fall out of my hands and land with a thud on the ground. Slowly but steadily, it started to process in my head. Heard of it . . . "Wait, so are you telling me that everyone on this Godforsaken ship knew that they are a couple?" I shrieked.
The blond gave me a weird look before nodding. "Yeah. Did Switzerland keep you under a rock or something? Everyone knows that."
I rapidly blinked. He had to be kidding me. He better be kidding me if he knew what was good for him. They all had to be joking if they wanted to live. "So you're saying that everyone here is okay with incest?"
"Basically. Aren't you?"
For a moment, I stood there in complete silence. If I thought that this place was bad at first, then this revelation has turned it into a cruel hell. "What the hell brain?" I demanded, staring at the Netherlands. "The one time I have a continuous, lucid dream and you keep on throwing fracking curve balls at me! No wonder no one likes-"
I would have stayed in my little corner of shock forever if there wasn't a sudden pain in my bottom. Yelping, I grabbed my butt and jumped a few feet away.I turned. Turkey stood behind me, hand still poised in pinching position. Oh no he didn't. "Why the heck did you do that?" I yelled, venting all of my anger- old and new -at his stupid face.
Turkey smiled in his usual manner of cockiness, saying, "Well Liechtenstein, you have a nice ass and I couldn't help myself."
"Leave her alone, Turkey," the Netherlands demanded. He slid to the ground and stood an equal distance away. His legs were straddled and both of the men's glares reminded me of that of a cowboy western showdown. All that was missing were a pair of pistols and movie music.
Well, Turkey did have his swords, but that's beside the point.
Turkey faked a pout and batted his eyes at the Dutchmen. "Aw, poor little low lands. Are you still bitter over our last night together?"
My jaw fell to the floor and shattered to a million pieces. "You two had sex?" I asked. My stomach jumped for my throat and I slapped a hand over my mouth. No Larry, you are not going to barf all over the crew. Only weak men do that and you are not weak.
Dad would not want me to be.
The Netherlands nodded. "Yeah, a special romantic encounter with Mr. I-Only-Fuck-A-Person-Once." He looked ready to barf as a shiver ran up his spine. "Worse night of my life."
"You didn't say that when your pants were off," Turkey remarked casually. "In fact, you were screaming my name-"
Oh my God. This was disgusting. How can Sherry or anyone else for that matter take pleasure in this? Ugh- they are two disgustingly gay men! There was nothing 'romantic' or 'kawaii' about this. More than anything, I wanted to be Oedipus and gouge my eyes out with the pin of a broche. Hastily, I placed my hands over my ears and yelled, "I am not listening to any of this crap!" I was ignored.
"Piss off now, Turkey," The Netherlands snapped, brushing him away. The guy had enough courtesy to grab my arm and usher me farther away from him. "You can go take your moves to someone who's available."
Turkey frowned, saying, "First off, it's the Ottoman Empire to you. Not Turkey. Second off-" Faster than the speed of light, he slithered over to us. He stood so close to the Dutchman that their chests were pressing together. "-We can always do it again," he offered, smirking suggestively. He took his chin between his fingers and forced him to look him in the eye. "After all, the first time technically wasn't a fuck since I never took my pants off."
I had enough.
After spending a few days on this stupid boat, there were a few things that I learned pretty quickly. Russia did not like having anyone in his room, Alfred never shut up, Demark had to duck in order to walk around below deck, and Switzerland would come to his little sister's rescue whether she wanted it or not.
At that moment, I wanted it.
Rolling my eyes, I cupped my hands over my mouth and screamed, "Big brother!" The reaction was immediate.
Anyone on deck who had sense made sure that they were a good distance away from me before the blond man came running from below deck. His shirt was dirty with the grease of the cannons, but he did not seem to mind. Growling, he did not ask questions, only fired his gun at Turkey.
The pervert smartly jerked his head to the side before his brains were blasted. "Hey Switzy!" He greeted, pretending that he was not in trouble. "How are-"
Switzerland holstered his gun before grabbing both Turkey's and the Netherland's collars. He glared darkly at them as he pulled their faces closer to his. "What were you doitsus doing to my little sister?" he growled. I had the sudden need to call 911 and ask them to come by and pick up the bodies.
My attention, however, was stolen by the next idiot that wanted to talk to me. "Hey Liechtenstein!" I heard Prussia yell as he strutted to me with his hands hiding behind his back. My eyes shot to his junk and I was relieved to see that there was no tent. Reaching me, the albino jumped up and down like a little child, saying, "Hey Liech! Guess what! Guess what?"
I gave him a condescending look, thinking about the headache that was sure to come. "What is it, Prussia?"
There comes a moment in every man's- woman's -life where they realize how endlessly stupid a person can be. Often times it's just a brief flickering of a light switch. It was a small action, but enough to illuminate one with knowledge. This, however, felt as though someone had taken a book labeled 'stupidity' and slammed it right into my face. I say all of this because Prussia took out from behind his back two tea cups. They were white porcelain, rather normal and stereotypical British looking. Nothing special.
Then I noticed the piece of leather holding them together.
My mouth opened, but I wasn't sure what to say. For the first whole minute, I did nothing but open and close it, waiting for something to say. It wasn't until Sokka started to lightly paw Prussia's leg did I remember how to articulate. "Um, what the heck is that?" I demanded.
Prussia smiled, his pale cheeks already burning under the warm sun. I wanted to tell him to avoid cancer and go back into the shade, but his stupidity decided to backhand me. "After our little talk the other day, I decided that I needed to invent a bra. And-" He held the cups out to me again. "Here it is! Isn't it awesome?"
My hand raised itself. It lingered in the air for a moment before smacking my face. Oh Lord, why must you punish me this way? Prussia's eyebrows pressed together and he asked, "What's wrong, Liech? Don't you like them?"
I shook my head. "Prussia, that's not a bra."
"Yes it is! You told me that a bra is cups that hold a woman's breasts in place." He held the monstrosity out to me. "And look! I got the best cups I could find! They're porcelain and feel really nice against the skin. How is this not a bra?"
My head wouldn't stop shaking. "No, it's not. Now go put it away before Belarus finds you."
"Can't you at least try it on first?" He asked. His thin lips bundled together into a pout and his red eyes gleamed with unshed tears. Aw, that's kind of cute . . . "Please? They're just your size." And there goes the cuteness.
Shifting on my feet, I sighed and ran my hand down my face. Keep cool, Larry. You deal with hate anons every day for not liking Hetalia. You can deal with this the same way you deal with them: distant grace. Taking a deep breath, I said, "Prussia, I really admire you and your concern for my chest, but that is not a-"
A roar pierce the air.
The Romanov shook with impact and it rocked fiercely from side to side. All the crew immediately braced themselves on either the mast or the rails. All who failed to fell to the ground and rolled across the deck. Among the cries of the shocked crew, I faintly registered that Switzerland, Turkey, and the Netherlands had fallen into each other and were sliding across the deck. However, I was not given time to worry about them. Prussia swiftly wrapped an arm around my shoulders and grabbed onto the railing. I closed my eyes and did the earthquake-drill-style couch. My hand over my neck, I had to realize that after years of practicing this over and over again in school, it's become muscle memory.
For what felt like an eternity, the ship swayed dangerously. I felt my stomach rise and fall until I was seasick. The second the rocking was down to a point where we could stand safely, Russia burst through his cabin door. His brown coat whipped around him angrily as he stormed to the bow. "Everyone up!" He ordered, stepping over the fallen crew. "This is nothing compared to the work of Ivan the Terrible."
Prussia groaned and dragged us to our feet. Many others were doing the same- Alfred was supporting Ukraine on his shoulder as they walked up the steps and onto deck. The only subordinate who seemed ready to jump to action was Belarus. She merely brushed herself off and made her way to her brother's side. "What happened Russia?" She asked, reaching under her skirt to take out her daggers. They both looked over the side of the ship and cursed. What were they looking at?
Trying my best to ignore my growing fear of knives, I nudged Prussia. "Let's go over there," I said, starting to drag him with me.
He hesitated. "First, are you okay, Liech?" He asked, supporting his aching head with his hand. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. Let's-"
Alfred had made it to the side before we did. "Holy shit! That is one big hole!" He exclaimed, half of his body hanging over the edge. "That must have destroyed the entire cannon room!"
Russia crinkled his nose. Turning back to the crew, his eyes scanned over all of us. "Comrades, this was an advance military tactic. The Red Coats are looking for a way to disarm us before attacking."
Turley groaned. "We already know that!" He yelled, lifting himself to his feet. In his arms, he safely held an absolutely terrified Sokka. "We've fought in plenty of wars too, jackass." Ignoring the Russian's irritated aura, he marched over, saying, "If anything, all of us can already tell you that England- here's your cat, Liech -that England used his magic to make his ship invisible. All of us can already tell you that they're probably waiting for the right moment to attack and not only do we have to fight them off, but we also got to make sure no water comes in through the hole or else we'll sink."
"Hold your tongue, Turkey," Russia ordered evenly. "You forget that even though England has magic on his side, I have General Winter. We'll freeze the hole."
Stupidly, Alfred raised his hand high into the air. "Wouldn't it melt?"
Switzerland shook his head as he stretched his back. "He'll have to just refreeze every time it happens."
I looked between all of the men, confused. Okay, so Russia can make things freeze? What is he, a water bender? I thought that this dream world was only going to include Hetalia crap. "My dreams are on crack," I decided, looking up in the air. My gaze met the eyes of the man in the crow nest- a stoic Asian called Hong Kong. He nodded to me before concentrating back on the open sea.
Russia flicked the sides of his coat, saying, "I'm going to go below deck and fix it right now. In the meantime, I would like for you comrades to prepare yourselves for battle."
"You heard the man!" Belarus echoed, her glance sharper than her knives. "Arm yourselves!"
The crew sprang to life. Ignoring their aches and pains, everyone rushed to grab their weapons. Switzerland quickly reloaded his guns and started packing up on ammo. Turkey put his white mask back on and unsheathed his swords. As I stared, the Netherlands stole a quick glance at his pocket watch before going off to find his own gun. Prussia gently released me, told me to stay put, be safe, and ran off to find a sword. I was alone, left only to stand awkwardly.
I had no idea how to fight. Yeah, I got into fist fights and wrestled with the other boys, but those were just fun and jokes. These idiots call this THE WAR for a reason! They were grabbing weapons for real bloodshed- something I was not prepared for. If I knew one thing, it was that I was doomed to die if I did not figure something out quickly.
I ran as fast as I could to Alfred. My mentor, unarmed and not looking to change that, frowned with worry when I grabbed his shoulders. I was breathing heavily and my gaze continued to glance over at the ocean. Apparently, the man in the red coat I saw long ago was waiting for us. I barely noticed Alfred's hands cup my shoulders. "What's wrong, Larry?" He softly asked. "Why are you so scared?"
I did my best to growl. "I'm not scared!" I immediately snapped. "I'm strong, therefore I don't get scared."
He rolled his eyes, huffing, "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."
"Alfred!"
He grimaced. "Fine." He took a step back and did a quick, fake bow. Mimicking a formal butler, he asked, "Excuse me, Madame Liechtenstein. What worries m'lady so?"
I never had such an intense desire to hit someone before in my life. Not when Mike and Bryan didn't make 'Tokka' cannon. I wasn't even half this angry when Sherry would tease me for watching Avatar. I clenched my fists, grinded my teeth together and prayed for the strength for be the bigger person and not hit the jerk. "We're going to war," I growled lowly. "What the heck am I supposed to fight with?"
This was supposed to be the moment where Alfred's ability to help me shined. This was supposed to be the time I would always look back at to remember how much I can depend on him. But that did not happen. Nope- the human only shrugged. "I have no idea," he said, fixing the white band around his arm. "I'm a human and none of the red coats are supposed to hurt me."
I smacked my face, yelling, "Then what the frack am I supposed to do?"
"I wouldn't worry if I were you," he told me. "You're on the red coat's team, so they would free you and take you back to their side with the least amount of da-" Every time I looked back at that moment, I would think about how strange magic made that world. Alfred and I were supposed to be having an argument alone. Yet, there was a pirate ship right behind us. We just didn't know it until the invisibility spell was lifted.
But the second it was, everything changed.
One instant, I was standing on my feet. The next, there was a loud roar in my ear as the pirates on the other ship swung over on hanging ropes. Alfred pushed me aside before standing in front of me as a barrier. Like monkey on vines, the Red Coats came swinging down, armed with their weapons. They were the same odd band of misfits that Russia's crew- the Brown Coats -were. The only thing binding them together as a single, armed force was the red band around their arm. A band like mine.
In the long run, I should have looked away before things grew worse. I should have closed my eyes and imagined myself back home. But I refused; closing my eyes meant submitting to fear. And I was not scared- it was all a bad dream and the strong were not frightened by nightmares.
But things only continued to grow worse. Swords were bare and clashing against other blades. Guns were hastily aimed and fired. Weapons from one side of the world struck ones from the other. But that was all part of the bigger picture: A mixture of fighters grunting and sweating and bleeding.
I unconsciously grabbed Alfred's arm and squeezed it tightly. There was man in the red coat I saw days ago- someone Alfred had told me was called England. He was armed with a long, thin sword and was fighting a pipe-armed Russia. They were going fiercely at each other with no stop.
That is, until Russia was stabbed.
My head spun. True, it was not in a dangerous spot. The sword had embedded itself into the captain's upper arm, but it was still gruesome. I had a moment to feel sick before having to lean over the rail and barf. So much blood. There was more blood in that wound then from when Jerry almost cut my thumb off.
"Maybe this is real," I thought, coughing up the remains of my partially digested meal of lemons. After all, how realistic could that blood be? I quickly shook the thought out of my head. "No. This is just a dream. If this was real-"
"Alfred!" I slowly turned back to the battle to see Belarus storming towards us. Her skirt was speckled with droplets of blood and a long cut ran down the length of her cheek. She towed behind her Denmark. He did not look happy to be away from the fight and to be dragged by the ear. Sending us a death glare, she ordered, "You and Liechtenstein are to follow me. Now."
We exchanged a look.
Neither of us had the guts to argue.
Alfred casually picked me up bridal style and followed after her. I would have argued, but it felt as though my stomach still wanted me to purge myself of all food. Plus, my head was still dizzy from the image of Russia and England's fight.
The blood . . .
Belarus took the three of us below deck. She never looked back to see if we were still there, but she didn't have to. The woman knew how freakishly scary she was and she was using it to her advantage.
"Where are we going?" Alfred asked, quickly bending down to let Sokka jump back into my arms. The feeling of the brown and white fur against my skin made my nerves calm just a bit. I felt just enough better to be concern myself- especially after she did not answer.
Belarus plowed through the dark halls of the ship until we came upon a familiar room. "The cells?" Denmark questioned as she threw the door open and dragged him into the room. He yelped as his ear continued to be pulled to the size of Dumbo's.
I looked around, recognizing the jail I woke up in. Oh great, what was I doing in here? Eat the rat poop? Goodness knows that there is a pungent enough smell for it. Brutally, Belarus yanked a cell door open and threw him inside, saying, "Yes, the prison room. Both you and Liechtenstein are Red Coats. Therefore-" She glared at Alfred before taking me out of his hands and into hers. She easily carried me into the call as if I was lighter than paper. "Both of you are prime targets for recapture, escape, and betrayal." She placed me on the ground next to the Dane.
In a business-like manner, she walked out and closed the door behind her. "So you two are going to stay in here until the fight is over," she told us. The cut on her face continued to bleed as she locked the door and pocketed the keys. I breathed a sigh of relief. This was good- I was safe in here and no one was going to harm me. The Red Coats were not going to get to me.
Not that I was starting to like these stupid fags or anything, it was just that I did not want to have to be separated from Alfred. He was the only person around who knew about Erwin and Gilbert and I did not want to lose him.
Belarus jabbed a finger at said man's face. She ordered, "Alfred, I want you to stay here and make sure that no shitty Red Coat comes by and tries to take them."
As he gave an agreement, Denmark scowled. "We're not shitty!" he objected, but it was already too late. Belarus turned on her heels- her skirt fluttering around her- and ran out. The door closed softly behind her and we blondes were left alone.
Groaning, Denmark rolled his eyes and fell back against the wall. "This suck!" He declared, running his hands down his face and through his hair. "What the hell are we supposed to do now? I want to fight!"
I rolled my eyes and folded my hands over my chest. "Well be happy that we're away and safe from all that crap," I huffed angrily. Geezes, some people need to learn to appreciate the good things in life.
Alfred happily nodded, saying, "Yeah, bro! Why dontcha take advantage of the situation and relax."
Denmark raised an eyebrow. "Take advantage?" Alfred and I nodded. I started regretting that decision the second Denmark's mouth formed a sly smirk. It didn't leave when he suddenly slid a hand around my waist or when he pulled me close to his side.
My chastity alarms blared loudly in my ears. "W-what are doing?" I demanded, trying to push him away. His smirk only deepened. "Alfred!"
I had never heard anything so satisfying as when Alfred fiercely banged his fist against the iron bars. "Knock it off, Denmark," he ordered, voice reaching a new low. His sparkling blue eyes were even drawn to a dealer glint. That put me off- I have never seen him act so fierce. "She obviously doesn't want it."
He shrugged. "But you said to take advantage of the situation and I am. I have a cute girl in here and I am not about to let the opportunity for some fun slip."
I have a tendency to say the first thing that comes to my mind. More often than not, it's rude and it gets me into a lot of trouble. But this time, it did good and saved my—Liechtenstein's -virginity. I threw my head back and frustratedly screamed, "I don't get it! Are you perverts gay or straight?"
Alfred and Denmark were silent for a long moment. I looked back and saw that the two blonds staring at me with confusion. "Why would you ask that, Liech?" Alfred asked, scratching his head in confusion. Everything that made him intimidating was gone and replaced with his usual carefree air. "I thought that it was obvious."
I threw my hands up in the air. "Well I must be an idiot because I have no freaking idea!"
Denmark shook his head. "Wow, Switzy sure kept you innocent," he commented lightly. "So obviously, it's our jobs to take that away from you. Every single one of us here- not including human boy there -is bisexual."
I was an idiot. I smacked my forehead, saying, "Oh wow. That is obvious. Why didn't I see that coming?"
"It could be because of that thing Turkey's got going on," Alfred said. It was so cute how he was trying to be helpful. Like a puppy. "Isn't he a bit of a weird case?"
"Yup. After like a hundred or so years of being a completely normal bisexuals like us, he evidently decided that he was only going to fuck a person one time only. The only problem with that was the fact that there's only a limited amount of countries in the world to mess around with. At this point, his sex drive is based on humans." The Dane shivered, adding, "When you think about it, that's really creepy."
I blinked. Creepy? Whoa, whoa, whoa- these people have standers? I mean, I guess they do since Turkey's apparently the only one who's been around the globe (Ha, ha! That was an awesome joke). "Why is that?" I asked.
"We'll most of us are at least a century or two old and humans are super young. It's a little like pedophilia."
I fidgeted in my spot, asking, "What if it was love? Would you object to that?"
Denmark struggled for a moment before hesitantly shrugging. "It all really depends-"
"Ah ha!" The three of us jumped as the door slammed open to reveal a young girl in her early teens. Grinning victorious, she seemed to relish in victory as we watched her strut in. "I knew that I heard something in here!" she exclaimed, wearing black slacks and a blue blouse and wielded a regal rapier in her hands. She looked over us triumphantly as the red ribbons in her hair bounced with eagerness. Okay, what was this little African girl doing here? Oh yeah, there was a red cloth tied around her arm.
Ugh, Red Coats.
Denmark smiled and waved excitedly. "Hey Seychelles!" he called out. "Long time, no see!"
She smiled brightly and waved back. "Papa said that you two would be in here," Seychelles told us excitedly. "I'm going to get you and Liechtenstein out of here and back onto our ship, okay?"
Alfred rolled his neck and took a step forward. "Oh no, not if I can help it," he growled, cracking his knuckles. "I'm the hero and I promised not to let these two get into the enemy's clutches and heroes always keep their promises."
Seychelles rolled her eyes and raised her weapon. "Please, I can beat you easily."
"I'm a human." He tugged on his white band for emphasis. "You can't hurt me."
She took a step forward. "I'm a country," she returned. "What are you going to do about it?"
Alfred's eyes went wide. For a second, I really thought that he was going to let her go. But then he cracked his knuckled and took off his glasses. "Hold these for me," he ordered, sliding them through the bars of my cell. "The hero has some business to attend to."
I lunged forward and caught them before they hit the ground. Looking up at him, I scowled and snapped, "Idiot! Just don't fig-" Denmark wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back onto his lap.
"Don't bother," he said, breath dancing around my ear. Shivers spiked down the length of my spine. "This is a fight for honor." I would have put more effort into stopping Seychelles and Alfred, but the stupid Dane was holding me closer to him than what I would have liked. It was to the point where I could feel his rippling pectorals clearly against my back.
Feeling a little sick, I tried pushing him away. "Let go of me," I grunted. He did the exact opposite and pulled me closer. This time, I smacked his pointy face. His response was to laugh and act as though it didn't hurt. I furrowed my eyebrows, demanding, "Why are you doing this? Don't you have anything else worth doing with your life?"
Denmark flashed a cocky smile. We were both so wrapped up in our- what would you call this? -argument, that we failed to notice that Alfred and Seychelles had started fighting. "You are one of the cutest girls I have ever seen," he told me, placing his face at the crooked of my neck. I seized up, feeling him take a deep breath against my skin. "I don't understand how anyone could resist themselves around you."
I trembled. "Let go of me!" I yelled, smacking his face away. This time, he yelped and I had enough time to scream for Alfred. His bare arms and face were nicked countless times by Seychelles's rapier, but her face had a few black and blue spots from his fists. There were both panting heavily, caught up in the strange dance of thrusts, blood, and sweat.
I felt my heart sank. We came here to avoid the fighting, yet it was happening. What's worse, because of it, I was going to have to fend for myself against Denmark's sudden perversion attack. I didn't even know where that part of him came from. The last I checked, he was the idiot crew member who liked to mess around with Alfred. In the nonsexual way, I mean.
Denmark pulled me back to him. My panic took over my logic. "Alfred!" I screamed. Somewhere in his idiot mind, Denmark thought that it would be a good idea to start nibbling my ear. My whole body seized up. "Oh God! Get off of me!" I tried pushing him away. "Help! Somebody!"
Lo and behold: God finally decided that I had enough and sent someone to save me.
Correction: He sent two people to save us.
"Liech!" Prussia and the Netherlands burst through the door. In a flash, the Netherlands pulled Seychelles away from Alfred and rammed her against the wall while Prussia ran over to our cell to undo the lock. Where he even got the key, I had no idea. At least Denmark had enough brains to push me away from him. Finally.
As the albino fiddled with the keys, the Netherlands pushed Seychelles closer and closer to the wall until she was whimpering in pain. "You little bitch," he sneered, jamming the barrel of his gun under her chin. Even the pipe in his mouth was bouncing angrily. "The rules of THE WAR clearly state that humans are not to be harmed. Does he look fucking unharmed to you, hm?" He painfully rammed her into it again, causing her to cry out. "Hm?"
"I was just doing what was best for my friend!" She cried, squeezing her eyes shut. "I was going to save them and he was in my way!"
I stared at him. There was definitely something off about him. For the few days I have known him, the Dutchman had always been a rather easy guy. Everything about him was with good grace and relaxation. Yet, here he was: tall, hostile, and poised with a gun. His green eyes were narrow and gleamed with something. They looked . . . haunted. There was no doubt about it: there definitely was something more dangerous about him.
Helplessly, Alfred and I watched as the Netherlands rolled his eyes and roughly grabbed her shoulder. With one last shove, he had her peeled off the wood and onto the ground. "Well that doesn't matter now. Brown Coats won and your crew's already left. In the name of Captain Russia, I declare you to be a prisoner of the Brown Coats."
Seychelles's face fell into a look of disbelief. "You're lying!" She yelled, biting her lip. "Papa and England would never leave me here!"
His upper lip curled. "News flash, princess: they did."
She lowered his head and shook it fiercely, saying, "No, no, no! They wouldn't leave me here! They-" A sob escaped and she quickly buried her face in her hands. "They couldn't have."
Alfred sighed and knelt in front of her. Ignoring the evil looks the Netherlands sent him, he rubbed her back, saying, "It's not as bad as it seems, Seychelles. Everyone here is actually really nice." She ignored him and continued crying.
At this point, Prussia had figured out the lock. Banging the door open, he immediately ran inside and bent down to me. "Are you alright?" he asked frantically. His cold hands cupped my cheeks as he searched my face for any misdoings. "Did she try to hurt you? Did he-" He glared at Denmark. "-Do anything funny?"
I was taken back. Okay, so the guy who seemed to be enthralled by the concepts of bras was really concern for mine- Liechtenstein's –well-being? What? Unsure of what to say or how I was even supposed to react, I opened and closed my mouth a few times. I noticed his face. Right there at the roots of his white hair was a vivid red cut. It was small, but it bled more than any of the nicks on Alfred's body. I stared at it, suddenly remembering the stab wound Russia obtained. For some reason, I couldn't rip my eyes away.
Prussia's visage only shone with more concern. Patting my cheeks, he asked, "Hey Liech. Is something . . ." I slowly lifted my hand and placed it on his face- more specifically, the cheek. He froze, too still to even breathe. I slowly moved it up his skin and to the cut. "Liech, what are you-"
"Is this real?" I asked aloud, letting some of the blood cover my fingers. It was as if everything before in the dream was real and I was now in the dream part. It was all too surreal to be real, yet before it was. I drew away from him and brought my fingers closer to my face. I observed the blood carefully, going so far as to rub it between my fingers. What if . . .
"Yeah, it's real," Prussia replied. "Why wouldn't it be?" I was silent. "Liech, are you sure you're okay?"
I brought it to my nose and sniffed. It smelled like real blood. It could be . . .
"I think she finally cracked," Denmark commented dryly.
Maybe . . .
I brought it to my mouth and took a small taste. Memories flashed in my head. I remembered the day Jerry cut my thumb clearly. The minute the knife met my bone, I screamed, ripped my hand away, and stuck my thumb into my mouth. The iron taste of blood filled my sense and made me sick to the stomach.
The same taste and feeling returned when I tasted the stuff on my hand.
Somewhere, deep inside of my mind, I remember asking Sherry why she always wanted to eat something directly after one of her nightmares. "You can't taste anything in dreams, Larry," she had told me, taking a bite of her food. A bite to remind her of reality.
You can't taste anything in dreams . . .
Oh my God- this is real. All of this is real.
My world swayed. Seconds later, I fainted.
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Next Chapter: Now that everything is real, Larry finally kicks his butt into gear. But first, who's this girl?