Family Ties [Part 90]
Title: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Afghanistan, Turkey, Greece, Pakistan, Portugal and Spain.
Rating: 15
Warnings: Horrific implications time! Also violence with a stick of dynamite.
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 dusty hallway had been searched a hundred times. No matter where the army looked, there were no prisoners to be found. But why would such a high security prison, spoken about so often in secret files, be empty of people? There had been no evacuation, they'd checked records and computer systems and cameras. The guards had simply gone into every cell as though checking, bringing nobody out with them as they left, and the prisoners should have remained in their cells.
Instead, each one was empty.
Afghanistan tried not to cry as she looked around the cell where Pakistan should have been.
"Adeeva." Greece said from the doorway, holding up a phone. "It's for you."
Confused, she took it. "H... hello?"
"Yo," said an unfamiliar voice. "Is this Afghanistan?"
"Um, yes, it is. Who's this?"
"Alright, awesome. Don't worry about who I am, just think of me as some awesome benefactor or something." the grin could be felt down the phone. The Persian Nation tilted her head in confusion.
"Um... was there something you wanted?"
"Oh yeah, I got a message to pass on to you." A pause, and the voice grew fainter for a moment. "Hey, what was the message again?"
A clatter, and a new voice appeared on the phone, a young child's.
"Press the orange button on the far west wall. Go down the stairs. Yours will be the first door on your right."
Afghanistan gave a deeply confused look at Greece, wondering if this was a prank. Greece's usual calm expression betrayed nothing. She took the phone and left the room down the hall, following the rail to where there was a control panel on the wall. Opening it revealed four buttons, red, orange, yellow and green. None of them were labeled.
"Don't press the red or the green buttons." the child's voice warned.
Afghanistan bit her lip nervously. "Who are you?"
"My brother's keeper, but not your sister's." was the reply, coded and confusing to her. "Take her and leave. I'm done." Dialtone sounded, and then silence.
She looked back at Greece, who'd followed her. The man shrugged. "Might as well."
Taking a steadying breath, she pressed the button.
Wall rumbled for a moment, and then a panel simply seemed to vanish, revealing a stair case. Closer inspection revealed it had been moved to the side. There was a clanging as Turkey and several investigations people ran along the metal flooring to see what the noise was.
"Well shit." muttered Turkey. "How long has that been there?"
"There was- on the phone..." Afghanistan began, and then thought the better of it. "... I opened it. It was the orange button."
"Well let's go down there and scout it out!" Turkey insisted, pushing one of the investigators forward. "Out of the way brat."
Greece pointedly went down the stairs first. Rolling his eyes, Turkey followed, leading the investigators down, and Afghanistan trailing last. The stairs were narrow and thin, enough for one person to march in single file with their arms close to their sides. Single lights in the ceiling lit the way, though one or two were damaged, leaving patches of darkness. The temperature was cold enough to freeze their breath in the air before them, and Afghanistan shivered, wrapping her hijab tightly around her neck. Turkey was in the middle of cussing out Russia's weather when Greece stopped abruptly in front of him, giving him another reason to swear.
"What the hell did you stop for?" he growled.
The brunette turned to look at him. "There's a door in the way, asshole."
"You impudent little-"
"Please open the door!" Afghanistan called over the heads of the men, making them look round at her. She was shivering, anticipation and worry on her face. Even rubbing her hands up and down her arms wasn't warming them up.
Greece obliged, pushing open the metal door, the hinges squeaking and the bottom scraping across the floor.
A murmur came from inside.
"P-privyet? Salaam?" one voice rose above the rest, trying various languages in a shaking voice. "Hello?"
The room was so cold that a freezing fog floated along the floor. Though there were some thin window, at the top near the ceiling and too high and narrow for a person to get through, letting light in, they were entirely blocked up with snow. It would have plunged the room into semi-darkness if it weren't for the one light that still worked. One of the windows had broken, spilling snow into the room to pile on the floor in a corner. The ceiling was peppered with chutes, big enough for a human to get through but high enough off the ground and slick enough not to be climbable. Clustered together in groups of ranging from two to nearly ten, were the prisoners they were looking for, huddling for warmth in nothing more than thin prison clothes. One among one of the largest groups stood, long dark hair falling about her shoulders in a matted mess and cheeks red with cold.
"Who's there?" she called again, this time in English. All of the prisoners were staring at the door. Greece and the soldiers stared back, but were suddenly pushed forward into the room by a driving force at the back.
"Paki!" called Afghanistan, trying to move the boys out of the way. "Paki! Paki you're alive!"
The girl's eyes widened. "Afghan...?!" she exclaimed, starting forward a little. When the smaller woman finally broke through the crowd, they rushed to each other in the middle of the room, grasping one another in a tight hug.
"Paki, oh thank Allah, I was so worried!" Afghanistan cried, trying to will some heat back into her friend's limbs. They seemed so cold... "He could have done something awful to you!"
Pakistan's face tightened, dark brown eyes looking away for a moment. "I'm fine."
Afghanistan stepped back and checked her for injuries. "You only say that when you're not fine."
The other girl pushed her hands away. "I'm fine, Adeeva." Wrapping her arms back round herself, Afghanistan could see every bone in her fingers. She looked like a skeleton. "He just... cut a lot of my supply lines. And beat me up a little. And took my nuclear weapons. And killed my government. And e-... enslaved my people..." the tremble to her voice and the shaking in her shoulders didn't have much to do with the cold any more.
"Hafa..."
"But he got distracted and left me alone." she drew in a shaky breath. "So I'm fine. Don't get all huggy and clingy on me, Adeeva."
"Oi!" called Turkey, stamping his feet to keep the feeling in them as the investigators helped the other prisoners up the stairs to escape. "This is great and all, but can we get the hell out of here and into some place warmer, I'm freezing my balls off here!"
"I missed you too, jerk!" yelled Pakistan in reply, sarcasm somewhat marred by her smile. As she walked past Afghanistan the smaller girl caught a glimpse of her lower back, trousers slipping down as they were too big for her.
A web of angry red scars disappeared under the shirt she wore.
---
Portugal was met with a very odd sight as he turned the corner to get to WDF headquarters.
A tank, two trucks and about fifty men were storming the place already. They were armed to the teeth and attempting to break down the door, despite the facility having gone into lockdown mode, if the metal covering the windows was any indication. This rather disappointed Portugal, as he had just arrived with back up soldiers to storm the place himself. He pulled the truck he was driving closer, realising he'd been one-upped by this other person, when he noticed something very familiar about the person attaching explosives to the front door.
"Irmão?" he called, pulling the truck to a stop. His brother's usually sunny face turned to him, tight with concentration, before going wide eyed.
"Hermano!" he cheered, nearly dropping the explosives if it weren't for Romano's timely catch and muttered swears. Spain foisted the rest of the equipment on the Italian before running over to his brother and giving him a tight hug. "It's been forever since I've seen you, hermanooo~!" he cried, beaming up at his older brother.
"What are you doing here?" asked Portugal, completely bewildered by Spain's sudden appearance. Spain looked mildly offended.
"I'm saving Mexico of course." he said, like it was obvious. Portugal didn't even know she was in trouble.
"So you... actually picked a side?"
Spain nodded rapidly. "¡Sí!
"And it's about time!" yelled Romano, juggling explosives. "Oi bastard, come finish this job or I'm throwing these at your head!"
"Right, right, one second!" He turned with an usually serious expression to look at Portugal. "Are you going to help me or stop me?"
Portugal rolled his eyes. "Just this once, I'll help you." He said, and then continued quickly when Spain's features lit up. "This does not mean we're having a union again."
The younger brother drooped a little, but had to regain concentration when a stick of unlit dynamite was thrown at his head.
Notes:
- I DIDN'T FORGET ABOUT PAKISTAN FOR AGES I SWEAR. >>;;
- The thing with the chutes is a cute little idea for a prison that could potentially come under siege. Have a chute built in to the prisoner's rooms, send them down to the holding room until the invasion is over, and then just put them back. Or leave them there to die, either way it's a spiteful victory.
- IBERIAN BROS UNITE and break down some doors for an epic rescue.
Part 91
Characters (in this chapter): Afghanistan, Turkey, Greece, Pakistan, Portugal and Spain.
Rating: 15
Warnings: Horrific implications time! Also violence with a stick of dynamite.
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 dusty hallway had been searched a hundred times. No matter where the army looked, there were no prisoners to be found. But why would such a high security prison, spoken about so often in secret files, be empty of people? There had been no evacuation, they'd checked records and computer systems and cameras. The guards had simply gone into every cell as though checking, bringing nobody out with them as they left, and the prisoners should have remained in their cells.
Instead, each one was empty.
Afghanistan tried not to cry as she looked around the cell where Pakistan should have been.
"Adeeva." Greece said from the doorway, holding up a phone. "It's for you."
Confused, she took it. "H... hello?"
"Yo," said an unfamiliar voice. "Is this Afghanistan?"
"Um, yes, it is. Who's this?"
"Alright, awesome. Don't worry about who I am, just think of me as some awesome benefactor or something." the grin could be felt down the phone. The Persian Nation tilted her head in confusion.
"Um... was there something you wanted?"
"Oh yeah, I got a message to pass on to you." A pause, and the voice grew fainter for a moment. "Hey, what was the message again?"
A clatter, and a new voice appeared on the phone, a young child's.
"Press the orange button on the far west wall. Go down the stairs. Yours will be the first door on your right."
Afghanistan gave a deeply confused look at Greece, wondering if this was a prank. Greece's usual calm expression betrayed nothing. She took the phone and left the room down the hall, following the rail to where there was a control panel on the wall. Opening it revealed four buttons, red, orange, yellow and green. None of them were labeled.
"Don't press the red or the green buttons." the child's voice warned.
Afghanistan bit her lip nervously. "Who are you?"
"My brother's keeper, but not your sister's." was the reply, coded and confusing to her. "Take her and leave. I'm done." Dialtone sounded, and then silence.
She looked back at Greece, who'd followed her. The man shrugged. "Might as well."
Taking a steadying breath, she pressed the button.
Wall rumbled for a moment, and then a panel simply seemed to vanish, revealing a stair case. Closer inspection revealed it had been moved to the side. There was a clanging as Turkey and several investigations people ran along the metal flooring to see what the noise was.
"Well shit." muttered Turkey. "How long has that been there?"
"There was- on the phone..." Afghanistan began, and then thought the better of it. "... I opened it. It was the orange button."
"Well let's go down there and scout it out!" Turkey insisted, pushing one of the investigators forward. "Out of the way brat."
Greece pointedly went down the stairs first. Rolling his eyes, Turkey followed, leading the investigators down, and Afghanistan trailing last. The stairs were narrow and thin, enough for one person to march in single file with their arms close to their sides. Single lights in the ceiling lit the way, though one or two were damaged, leaving patches of darkness. The temperature was cold enough to freeze their breath in the air before them, and Afghanistan shivered, wrapping her hijab tightly around her neck. Turkey was in the middle of cussing out Russia's weather when Greece stopped abruptly in front of him, giving him another reason to swear.
"What the hell did you stop for?" he growled.
The brunette turned to look at him. "There's a door in the way, asshole."
"You impudent little-"
"Please open the door!" Afghanistan called over the heads of the men, making them look round at her. She was shivering, anticipation and worry on her face. Even rubbing her hands up and down her arms wasn't warming them up.
Greece obliged, pushing open the metal door, the hinges squeaking and the bottom scraping across the floor.
A murmur came from inside.
"P-privyet? Salaam?" one voice rose above the rest, trying various languages in a shaking voice. "Hello?"
The room was so cold that a freezing fog floated along the floor. Though there were some thin window, at the top near the ceiling and too high and narrow for a person to get through, letting light in, they were entirely blocked up with snow. It would have plunged the room into semi-darkness if it weren't for the one light that still worked. One of the windows had broken, spilling snow into the room to pile on the floor in a corner. The ceiling was peppered with chutes, big enough for a human to get through but high enough off the ground and slick enough not to be climbable. Clustered together in groups of ranging from two to nearly ten, were the prisoners they were looking for, huddling for warmth in nothing more than thin prison clothes. One among one of the largest groups stood, long dark hair falling about her shoulders in a matted mess and cheeks red with cold.
"Who's there?" she called again, this time in English. All of the prisoners were staring at the door. Greece and the soldiers stared back, but were suddenly pushed forward into the room by a driving force at the back.
"Paki!" called Afghanistan, trying to move the boys out of the way. "Paki! Paki you're alive!"
The girl's eyes widened. "Afghan...?!" she exclaimed, starting forward a little. When the smaller woman finally broke through the crowd, they rushed to each other in the middle of the room, grasping one another in a tight hug.
"Paki, oh thank Allah, I was so worried!" Afghanistan cried, trying to will some heat back into her friend's limbs. They seemed so cold... "He could have done something awful to you!"
Pakistan's face tightened, dark brown eyes looking away for a moment. "I'm fine."
Afghanistan stepped back and checked her for injuries. "You only say that when you're not fine."
The other girl pushed her hands away. "I'm fine, Adeeva." Wrapping her arms back round herself, Afghanistan could see every bone in her fingers. She looked like a skeleton. "He just... cut a lot of my supply lines. And beat me up a little. And took my nuclear weapons. And killed my government. And e-... enslaved my people..." the tremble to her voice and the shaking in her shoulders didn't have much to do with the cold any more.
"Hafa..."
"But he got distracted and left me alone." she drew in a shaky breath. "So I'm fine. Don't get all huggy and clingy on me, Adeeva."
"Oi!" called Turkey, stamping his feet to keep the feeling in them as the investigators helped the other prisoners up the stairs to escape. "This is great and all, but can we get the hell out of here and into some place warmer, I'm freezing my balls off here!"
"I missed you too, jerk!" yelled Pakistan in reply, sarcasm somewhat marred by her smile. As she walked past Afghanistan the smaller girl caught a glimpse of her lower back, trousers slipping down as they were too big for her.
A web of angry red scars disappeared under the shirt she wore.
---
Portugal was met with a very odd sight as he turned the corner to get to WDF headquarters.
A tank, two trucks and about fifty men were storming the place already. They were armed to the teeth and attempting to break down the door, despite the facility having gone into lockdown mode, if the metal covering the windows was any indication. This rather disappointed Portugal, as he had just arrived with back up soldiers to storm the place himself. He pulled the truck he was driving closer, realising he'd been one-upped by this other person, when he noticed something very familiar about the person attaching explosives to the front door.
"Irmão?" he called, pulling the truck to a stop. His brother's usually sunny face turned to him, tight with concentration, before going wide eyed.
"Hermano!" he cheered, nearly dropping the explosives if it weren't for Romano's timely catch and muttered swears. Spain foisted the rest of the equipment on the Italian before running over to his brother and giving him a tight hug. "It's been forever since I've seen you, hermanooo~!" he cried, beaming up at his older brother.
"What are you doing here?" asked Portugal, completely bewildered by Spain's sudden appearance. Spain looked mildly offended.
"I'm saving Mexico of course." he said, like it was obvious. Portugal didn't even know she was in trouble.
"So you... actually picked a side?"
Spain nodded rapidly. "¡Sí!
"And it's about time!" yelled Romano, juggling explosives. "Oi bastard, come finish this job or I'm throwing these at your head!"
"Right, right, one second!" He turned with an usually serious expression to look at Portugal. "Are you going to help me or stop me?"
Portugal rolled his eyes. "Just this once, I'll help you." He said, and then continued quickly when Spain's features lit up. "This does not mean we're having a union again."
The younger brother drooped a little, but had to regain concentration when a stick of unlit dynamite was thrown at his head.
Notes:
- I DIDN'T FORGET ABOUT PAKISTAN FOR AGES I SWEAR. >>;;
- The thing with the chutes is a cute little idea for a prison that could potentially come under siege. Have a chute built in to the prisoner's rooms, send them down to the holding room until the invasion is over, and then just put them back. Or leave them there to die, either way it's a spiteful victory.
- IBERIAN BROS UNITE and break down some doors for an epic rescue.
Part 91