Sov Gott

A Fiddling Tune

Norway hesitantly placed the tape into the player on his television, dreading the numerous sights that could greet him when the video played. Jeff was standing in the corner and Jones was next to Norway. They had told Norway what they had found on the case, but were going to withhold the information from Iceland for a little longer. The younger nation was becoming sick from worry without that knowledge, though he acted as though he was hiding it from everyone. Norway informed the officers that Iceland had retreated to a similar behavior as when he had been a toddler. When Iceland left the room, Norway would follow, and, as he told them, he did not protest Norway's comforting and soothing like he normally would at this stage in his life. Iceland was in the lavatory, most likely throwing up his lunch and trying to clean himself up to look like nothing had happened, so Norway decided to play the tape he had found at this moment. Jeff was guarding the hallway, making sure that Iceland wouldn't get in before they finished the tape.

Norway hit the PLAY button.

Denmark, beaten up a little bit, but otherwise well, was tied to a chair and gagged. Norway lurched towards the screen, but Jones caught him and held Norway back. That was only a moment before a whip came out of nowhere and lashed at Denmark's skin over and over. Jones couldn't hold Norway any longer and Norway fell to his knees, staring at the screen as blood and flesh flew from Denmark. Due to being a personification, his wounds began healing immediately. But new wounds were opened as soon as an old one began to heal. Norway's hands clenched the fabric of his shirt, which was the only physical showing of emotion Norway portrayed. Norway stood up after fifteen minutes, stopped the recording and walked towards the door. As Norway began roughly pulling on his jacket, Jones ran up to him and threw himself across the door before Norway could reach it.

"Where are you going?"

Norway laughed a bit, in a dangerously slow way. "I'm going to teach those sons of bi-"

Jones slapped Norway with enough force to knock him away from the door. "You're not going anywhere near that area until it's safe! How do you think Iceland would react if you went missing too? Let the police handle it, Mr. Norway."

Norway glared at Jones for a long time, barely blinking. Jones, however, stared right back.

"Fine. I won't leave," he paused for a moment before continuing, "as long as I may still contribute, and you keep me informed."

Jones sighed and nodded. "Of course. You don't even need to ask yourself that, Nor-"

"Nor, what's going on? Where are you going?" Iceland, at the top of the stairs, was watching the scene with frightful, wide eyes. "What did Jones mean by all that?"

"Iceland, were you eavesdropping?" Norway was hanging his coat up again and climbing the stairs so it was easier to talk to Iceland.

"I heard that commotion and someone being hit... I thought you'd snapped and told them to get out of the house, so I came running out to apologize for anything you did, but," Iceland's eyes flicked in Jones's direction as he paused. "It looks like it was the other way around. What happened?"

Norway bit his lip. "I tried to go out for a walk alone, but Jones was holding me back, saying I couldn't go without one of our kind escorts. I, as much as I hate to admit it, tripped on one of the stairs as I was going up and fell. Everything's fine, Iceland."

Despite Norway's quick-witted cover, Iceland was not convinced.

"What's on the television?" Iceland asked, looking at the solid blue screen with STOP written across the top left corner. Norway quickly blocked Iceland from going into the room with the television with his body.