Warning: Abuse. Also, this chapter is practically two different chapters. "Not Dying" which is the beginning of this chapter does include abuse. While "St-Rest And Relaxation" does have smoking and mentions of intoxication...barely.
Check yo mental helf before you wreck yo self
(Not Dying)
Day #5. Tuesday, December 5th. Dorm #24. 6:21 AM.
Scotland's whole body felt heavier than usual as he brushed out the thick tangles in his hair. He stared into his reflection in the clear, clean mirror through tired, heavy eyes. What was weird was that Scotland had been awake for the past hour and he had taken a shower, but he still felt drained of all of his energy. Not to mention how hard it was to breathe through his rather mucus filled sinuses and trachea. There was also the uncomfort of cold. Even though cold temperatures are comfortable, this kind of cold was nauseating.
'We're ill, admit it.'
"Hey Scot? Did you perchance move my slippers?" England asked energetically from behind him.
"You have sl-" Scotland's question was interrupted by a short fit of nasty coughing. He turned to his left just enough to partially face his twin.
England's hair was down, flowing behind her like a white and red cape. She wore a baggy creme t-shirt and shorter cut black shorts. Behind her was the end of the balcony that overlooked the main living room and dorm. And she was looking at him with an accusing expression, raised eyebrows and all; which provoked some sort of negative reaction.
"Dè?" (What?) the Scot spat out defensively with his arm still up to his face.
"I guess that we aren't training today," England said with a shrug.
Scotland squinted at her with confusion as he dropped his arm to his side. He put his hairbrush back on the sink counter and unwillingly sniffled. England didn't need her brother to ask why the day's plans were suddenly canceled; since his expression gave his question away.
"Scot, look at yourself. Somebody's ill I reckon," England pointed out.
Scotland sluggishly turned his head to see his reflection once more. His skin was somehow even more pale, his posture had fallen to something resembling a zombie, the only color in his face was a slight pink on the tips of his ears and nose, and overall, he just appeared to be the definition of unwell. "I'm fine," Scotland grumbled, glaring over at his twin.
England simply told him to copy what she does. She held out her right hand with the back of it facing Scotland. The Scot did the same thing, with the back of his right hand facing his sibling. England put the back of her hand to her forehead; doing the gesture as if teaching a child how to do it. Scotland rolled his eyes, held his hair out of the way, and he put the back of his hand on his forehead just like England did. The skin on his scarred hand felt as if it would burn clear off; like touching an electric stove top after it had been used.
"Gah! What the hell?!" Scotland cursed as he quickly removed his hand from his forehead. Naturally, he shook his hand as if he could just shake the stinging away.
"That's what I thought. Go take a rest before you get your germs everywhere," England commanded, "And don't argue with me on this. I don't care if it is a cold or Lishtor's flu, I don't want it."
"I'm not ill. It's just a fever," Scotland argued. With a sneeze, he completely contradicted his argument. Unlike a normal sneeze, this one made the Scot lightheaded, like reality was slipping.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head and..."Fuck."...he collapsed right then and there.
- - -
Lishtor's flu: a disease that can spread like the plague in an environment full of unvaccinated humans. It acts similarly to influenza, but there are some very different aspects. It attacks the immune system, yes, but it also attacks the neurological system.
To the sufferers that do not host any sort of an ability, the symptoms include high fever, exhaustion, shortness of breath/trouble breathing, loss of appetite, vomiting, nausea, hysterics, forgetfulness, and loss of senses. Yet, on the other spectrum, the ones who do host an ability or two are affected a tad bit differently. To a host/dual host, Lishtor's flu causes a lack of ability control, struggling with dexterity, headaches, along with the previously mentioned symptoms of fever, exhaustion, trouble breathing, loss of appetite, vomiting, and nausea.
While there is a vaccine to help prevent a person from catching Lishtor's flu, there is no cure other than waiting it out. In this modern day and age, Lishtor's flu is very difficult to catch; usually transmitted to people with a weak immune system.
England had caught the disease once, after she had gotten her flame ability but before she could teleport. Every time she coughed or sneezed it would be like a hatchling dragon with little bits of flame that dissipated quickly. It was anything but a severe case of the flu, as a severe case would have the castle burnt down. While Scotland had never contracted the disease once in his life.
Newsflash, Lishtor's is what our main character has ever so conveniently come down with.
- - -
The overhead lights were shut off in the room, and the lamp on Scotland's new desk cast cold illumination on its surroundings. The bedroom itself was freezing by nature.
A headache mercilessly beat in Scotland's eyes and the area around them. He could feel how clogged up his sinuses were. His sense of how much time had passed was completely thrown out the window. Scotland pulled his blankets up as far as he could as he laid on his back. No matter how cold he felt, he still was drenched in his own sweat. With a groan of exhaustion, he slid the damp towel on his forehead down to his eyes. He wanted the headache gone.
The condition was definitely hitting harder than it was at 6.
'What happened to not being ill? Why are you acting like we are dying all of a sudden?'
"It wasn't this bad earlier," Scotland mumbled nasally. Lefty just couldn't help but be annoying. He sure did like taking advantage of the silence.
'Hmm. Excuses, excuses. I hate feeling this weak. And it is all because you didn't take the time to try to build up your immune system; sitting in the castle like Rapunzel.'
"And I make excuses," Scotland spat out like a dying sickly child. His headache got worse but he didn't have the energy to pinch himself or something to distract his brain. He coughed about 5 times, which left his throat burning and created a small amount of frost to form on the bed's headboard. "I just want to breeaatthhee," Scotland whined with annoyance.
'Stop laying on your back. You're worsening our sinuses.'
Rolling over to his side would take too much energy. His body decided that this was the perfect time to make Scotland's chest hurt worse with some untimely sneezes. The Scot sighed nasally and let his head fall onto his right shoulder. The simple change of his head position filled him with tiredness.
Either his soul was leaving his body again, or he was simply drifting off to sleep finally. Scotland didn't care, he welcomed the feeling anyway.
- - -
Abuse Warnings
A young boy, knelt down on the floor, peaked through a crack in the door. He watched the scene going on in the room with horror.
A man that he saw as protecting and safe was yelling loudly as he pushed the woman that the boy saw as loving and gentle against a painting. The woman's face was covered in tears, and she sobbed as the man screamed at her. The words were too blurred to be understood.
It was scary to the boy, like a monster under his bed. But this monster was real, and it wasn't hiding under his bed.
The man's face was red with anger, his hand was holding the woman against the art. The boy could've sworn that the woman made eye contact with him. Her eyes were filled with fear, her hair matted, her face beaten.
Suddenly, the boy was scooped up from the floor. A different woman that he recognized as the woman who cared for him carried him away from the door at a quick pace. The boy cried, trying to get out of the woman's grasp,
"Mama!!"
It softly faded to black. Floating in the void of darkness for a couple of moments. Suddenly, the calm void switched off like a light switch was flicked.
A hand with a firm, harsh, painful grip shoved Scotland's head against a filled bookshelf. The force was enough to cause some of the books to fall, one of which fell onto the Scot harshly.
"ANSWER ME, BOY!" That same man now screamed in Scotland's ear, making them ring.
Scotland winced at the pain as his hair pulled at his scalp, but he stayed emotionless and unreadable. He wouldn't cry, he wouldn't speak, he wouldn't react. Instead, he tried to understand his surroundings.
In that familiar study, behind closed doors, his head, shoulders, chest and knees ached, there was no point in trying to escape, there was no place to escape to. The way that the man yelled and treated Scotland like a doll that he could throw around and abuse...
The Scot wasn't taking it as fury boiled. With a snap of a switchblade, Scotland himself snapped. "You want an answer!? THEN HERE'S YOUR FUCKING ANSWER!"...............blood was then spilt on that extravagant carpet.
Little did he know that a little boy was scooped up from the floor just outside of those doors.
A little hybrid boy.
I'm sorry, y'all.
- - -
It was just a dream. That's not how the events played out. Just a dream.
'You were too busy letting your anger out. I watched England grab Wales' hand and pull him away from that door. Stop denying what I show you. This is how you learn the truth, Scot.'
No. No. You're implying that England knows. That Wales watched. England wouldn't try to cover it up like Clarriese did. I know my motherfucking twin.
'Do you? Do you know how she would act?'
I can't read minds, you idiotic-
'Watch what you call me. I can show you worse things, Scot. Things that you buried in the back of your mind. I've dug, I know what corpses lay in your backyard.'
What do you want from me?
'Revenge.'
- - -
(St-rest And Relaxation)
Ze Nordic Guest Room. 6:32 PM.
Finally, Greenland had fallen asleep. The room was lit by a measly candle, and that was it. Sweden closed the story book and put it down on the bedside table.
With a sigh, he stood up from his chair, fixed his glasses, and pulled a box of cigarettes out of his pocket. Sweden slid a single cigarette out of the box into his hand. The Swede lit the nicotine roll in the candle's flame before blowing the candle out. He let the cigarette burn while he walked to the open bedroom door.
Trying to get Greenland tired enough to sleep consequently released some form of melatonin in Sweden's mind. Planning to spend the rest of the night to himself like a single mother of four after dropping her children off at the babysitter's; Sweden slowly closed the door to the bedroom behind him.
'I have a feeling that responsibilities are approaching....Eh, it's nothing.' Sweden shrugged and put his cigarette in his mouth. His legs ached ever so slightly due to using most of his time earlier to push his limits.
Just as he inhaled rather deeply through the blunt, his responsibilities did, in fact, arrive. His phone started to buzz from his back pocket, ruining the calming feeling of the nicotine.
Bzzzt* Bzzzt* Bzzzt* Bzz-* "Hello?" Sweden asked after answering the incoming call. Like an idiot, he didn't read who was calling him.
"Hi Sweedy," Belgium's voice greeted, slurring. In the background noise of the call, it sounded like Belgium was at a rave.
"Creative...Are you drunk?" smoky vapor escaped out of the Swede's mouth as he spoke. He made his way to the couch and sat down. The cushions sunk as if it didn't want Sweden to get up again. He propped his right foot up onto his left knee, holding his phone to his ear with his left hand, shamelessly smoking with his right.
"Ihave onnly drink a litddle," Belgium said dramatically, "Whas my hot hunk ofa man doing?"
Sweden looked at his cigarette in his hand, then at nothing in particular, then back at the cigarette; pondering whether or not to be honest. With a shrug, he answered the question, unprompted-ly complimenting, "Smoking on the couch, talking to the cutest boyfriend I could ask for."
Life decided to try and stop a relaxing evening again, as there came a knock at the guest room's front door.
Belgium drunkenly said, "Aww, you made me blush. YOu don't mind me calling you after a drink or two? Mediterranean parties are crraazy. Lemme tell ya all about it-"
Sweden flicked his wrist, slightly smacking the side of his head with his phone, but at least the door unlocked and opened. Yeah, yeah, Kalmar said no magic; but Sweden is a grown man that is only bossed around by his mother while on base (or when he is feeling respectful).
Speaking of magic, Sweden did get rid of the cigarette in his hand; no one knows where it went.
He glanced to his left enough to see the door clearly through his glasses lens, and consequently saw that he just welcomed a seventeen-year-old, a nearly nineteen-year-old, a flopo and a snope into the living space. Iceland waved as she took off her shoes, while Norway simply took off his shoes.
'Oh boy. Life just wants me to be constantly stressed, doesn't it.' Let's just say that Sweden regretted his decision as he hoped that he could just ignore their existence.
"Baaabe? You still there? I'm sorry for being such a bad boyfriend."
"I'm still here. No need to apologize. Give me a moment-" Sweden answered before covering the microphone on his device. He addressed his new guests sternly enough to get his point across without being rude, "I don't know why you are here, and I don't care as long as you keep the noise down. I finally got your brother to go to sleep, so- Shush."
"Alright, sounds good," Norway said with a shrug. "Thanks for not asking any questions and being totally cool with our random arrival, Sweed," Iceland added enthusiastically.
Sweden started ignoring them as he put his phone back to his ear. "You can continue with your story," the Swede said to Belgium while adjusting how his glasses sat on his face. He liked his contacts better.
"Eh, fuck that story. You got guests over?"
"Unwillingly," Sweden informed as he watched Norway with a concerned expression. The Norwegian had found an ax from who knows where and was casually tossing it around in his hands. If that thing fell, it definitely would make quite the ruckus.
"Does that mean we can't talk anymore?" Belgium asked with a slight pout in his tone.
"No you're-" Sweden paused upon seeing Lakk knock a glass vase off of its shelf. He made a quick movement, readying himself to levitate the object before it shattered into a million pieces, but Iceland was able to steady the ceramic before the enchantment became necessary. With a deep exhale, the Swede relaxed and finished his sentence, "-fine."
"WOO! Sorry! Got to go! Netherlands just brought in- crackle*"
"Nonono, please don't-" Beep* Beep* Daaaaaaa*
Sweden sighed with defeat as he looked at his phone screen before turning the device off. Putting his phone down and standing up, the Swede wasn't paying as much attention to his surroundings as he should have.
Just as he stretched out his back, his ears heard "Sweed! Heads up!" but his brain didn't comprehend the warning until it was too late.
A messenger dragon crash landed into Sweden's head. Sweden was able to catch the little baby dragon before it would have fallen to the floor, yet not without getting a set of rather sharp claws to the face. When he looked down at the lizard with wings wiggling and screeching in his hands, his glasses were taken by gravity in two different pieces.
'How. Amazing.'
Judging by the stinging, the dragon had clawed him quite well, and it still continued to claw his skin as it freaked out in his hands. Sweden put the dragon down on the coffee table and stayed silent as he looked for his severed glasses through unclear and blurry vision. Along with the screeches of the dragon which sent the flopo in a flurry of panicked bird noises, Greenland let everyone know that he was awake by starting to cry.
In only a couple of minutes, Sweden's peace had been reduced to absolute chaos.
"Sweed...Nifgert venom..." "I am worried about seeing fucking clearly right now, Iceland."
A tad bit later.
Most of the chaos had been put under control, meaning that the room had quieted. While Norway did get the message from the dragon and swiftly got rid of the scaled menace, Iceland had handed her brother both pieces of his broken spectacles and calmed down the animals. Sweden did all of the rest; getting Greenland to stop crying, fixing his glasses, and keeping himself from snapping at anybody.
Now, at this moment in time, Norway was entertaining Greenland by playing Sweden's rhythm guitar, Sweden was sitting back down on the couch with a new cigarette in his mouth, feeling drained and exhausted, and Iceland was still calming the shaken flopo bird.
"I may as well ask...Why did you randomly show up?" Sweden questioned with an annoyed tone. He was definitely done with this whole situation.
"1, you're usually cool with stuff. 2, Lighter dropped Kaleidoscope off on us because her brother isn't well. And you're the animal expert," Iceland explained from behind the couch where Sweden and Greenland were sitting.
"Uh huh-" Norway confirmed, though he was more concentrated on playing his eldest brother's instrument.
Sweden sighed and wiped his face with his hands, trying to get some sort of energy. His mind kept on going back to the fact that he was getting deployed in a week, deployed to the Americas with an entire new regiment to manage.
'Maybe I should leave. Go to college...Focus on building for when Mor dies...Try to get back to royal life....No. I'd marry Belarus before I give up on my kingdom's protection.'
"Sweed, how do you play that- one song?" Norway blurted. Iceland walked around behind the couch and smoothly grabbed the black and red rhythm guitar out of her brother's hands. "You seriously don't know how?" Iceland teased him as if the riff-iest song ever to be made was an easy song to play. Sweden watched Iceland hit a few notes on that unused guitar as a warmup before going ham on the strings.
She was playing it even faster than the intended tempo. The Swede started tapping the original tempo to hopefully get her on track. Astonishingly enough, Iceland was able to hear his very quiet tapping over the loud song and being able to slow down. She played until the exact spot where she had stopped memorizing the song, abruptly ending it. Greenland blinked tiredly from his sleepy chair, comprehending the not-so-subtle flex.
"Damn Sweed, have you ever even played this? It feels like it's fresh out of the shop," Iceland asked, propping up the guitar on the coffee table next to her.
"Honestly, no. You can have it if you want," Sweden said with no care in the world for the instrument. The guitar was a gift, unlike most of his things that he designed himself, though he didn't ever have time to use it.
"Seriously?" Iceland asked, looking at Sweden like he was crazy. Greenland was singing to himself, random notes.
"Better than it collecting dust," the Swede mumbled, taking a puff of his blunt.
"A-are you sure?"
"Yes. For the love of gods, take it."
"Okay?"
"Okay."
Iceland sent a confused look at Norway when Sweden went back to not paying any attention to anything other than his phone.
She mouthed, "Why is he doing this?"
Norway mouthed back, "I don't fucking know. I think we fucked up."
"BIRDIE!!" Greenland randomly cheered as Kaleidoscope jumped up onto the couch next to him.
Iceland couldn't help but smile at the innocent happiness only a joyful child can produce. Kaleidoscope fearfully ran around the couch, trying to get away from Greenland who was giving chase.
The sudden change in the mood of the room masked Iceland's concern over Sweden's random decision. Greenland pursued the terrified flopo off of the couch, around the furniture twice, and in a few random circles until Kaleidoscope took refuge with Norway. The bird hid in the Norwegian's jacket, quivering in fear as he watched Greenland stare him down.
'Lighter would probably have locked Greenland in the bathroom by now. Though Sweed wouldn't let that happen,' Iceland thought, watching the toddler as she sat down next to Sweden on the couch. She had left the guitar on the coffee table in favor of the TV remote.
With a press of a button, the television turned on and immediately started playing a popular Kalmar child cartoon channel. Iceland had forgotten that cartoons were even a thing. Greenland, now distracted by the vibrant colors and cartoony animation, climbed back up onto the couch and leaned on Iceland.
"Hey Ice, I think it's about time that we head out," Norway spoke up after looking down at his watch.
Iceland glanced over at the clock on the wall: 7:35 PM, since when had an hour passed?! "Oh, yeah," She blurted, making sure that Lakk was still in her hood before standing up.
"Well, Sweed, see you tomorrow morning. Coral Cafe, what time?" Iceland reminded Sweden.
His eyes briefly snapped up from his phone; he spat out, "8:30. No later." He sounded like he was setting a time for his soldiers to be at a certain place. They had talked earlier about this morning meet up.
"Alright, goodnight," Norway said before turning to Greenland, "And you. Don't drive Sweed insane, that's my job, you hear me?" He wasn't being stern, he had his voice all high pitched. Sweden snickered and waved the two off.
Norway started to walk out of the door, making Iceland have to rush to catch up after grabbing the guitar. If Sweden was being serious, he would forget about the instrument by the next morning. Iceland hustled out of the guest room, politely closing the door behind her.
That was when the tiredness actually hit her.
"8:30...Why am I honestly scared if we are late," Norway pondered more to himself.
Iceland said, "You know that tone...If we're late, we're getting drill-sergeant-ed."
"Right. Are we keeping Kaleidoscope overnight, or returning him? Did Lighter specify?"
"Uhm, no?"
Word Count: 3881
Hey, this chapter was weird. I had two different plot ideas, but neither of them were long enough to fill an entire chapter. I pretty much put them together to create this monstrosity. Anyway, Imma take a shower now because hygiene.
<Goodbye>