Re: A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes [2a/??]
anonymous
February 16 2010, 02:55:18 UTC
It takes the meeting concluding and four more unanswered phone calls before Norway finally starts to worry. Denmark, while not the most punctual of people, has never missed an entire meeting nor has he ever ignored his phone. His phone is his connection to the rest of them and he never misses a chance to talk their heads off, regardless of the situation. Even if they are fighting, if the phone call is from Norway, Denmark always answers.
As the rest of the nations slowly gather their things and disperse back to their respective taxis, Norway pauses by reception to check one last time with the secretary who, again, has not seen the missing Dane. He thanks her and grabs his suitcase before he goes to meet Iceland at the airport shuttle.
“Any word?” Iceland asks once they are seated in the van. The younger nation has long since discarded his tie and tucked it away in his briefcase.
Norway sighs and shakes his head. “No, he’s still not answering.” He slides out of his blazer and sits back in his seat, glad to be out of the uncomfortable plastic chairs of the boardroom.
Iceland shrugs. “He’s probably just hung over. I hear he’s been hanging out with Prussia a lot.”
“Maybe. That or he’s just an idiot who can’t keep his calendar updated.” He neatly folds his jacket. “Still, it’s odd for him not to be answering his phone.”
Iceland just rolls his eyes. “If he was drinking with Prussia, his phone could be on the bottom of the ocean by now.” He leans back. “Everything’s fine, I’m sure. You shouldn’t worry too much.”
Norway bristles slightly. “I’m not worried.” He motions to his briefcase. “I’m just annoyed because now I have to take him the notes from the meeting. He had better have a good reason for missing it, too. If he did just get drunk and drop his phone in the water, I’m going to drown him in it.”
Re: A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes [2b/??]
anonymous
February 16 2010, 02:57:05 UTC
It’s late in the afternoon in Copenhagen when their plane arrives and Norway wastes no time renting a car. Denmark’s house is on the far outskirts of the city, away from the main hustle and bustle and tucked away in a small patch of woods; a picturesque little fenced yard surrounding a humble two-story cottage. Norway had honestly expected Denmark to live in something much bigger, or to keep the old house they all once lived in, but in an uncharacteristic display of modesty, the Dane had explained that the small house suited him just fine. Plus, it was wasteful to heat a giant house that only one person lived in.
Iceland follows him up the walkway the front door, mindful to lock the gate. “His bike and car are still here,” he points to the driveway.
Norway’s frown deepens. “If he’s passed out, I swear…” he grumbles and bangs on the door. He pauses for a moment, listening for the familiar heavy footsteps of his fellow nation, scowling when the only thing he hears is the rustling of the Danish flag on the porch fluttering softly. He knocks again. Still nothing. He pulls out his phone, dials, and presses his ear against the door. After a few seconds of silence, he can hear the muffled ringtone of Denmark’s phone from inside. He snaps his cell shut and tucks it in his pocket. “I’m going to check the backyard,” he steps off of the porch. “Could you check to see if his garage is unlocked?”
Iceland nods and heads in the opposite direction. Norway turns the corner of the house to the gate to the backyard. It’s been quite some time since he’s been to Denmark’s house and even longer still since he’s set foot in his yard. He’s unsurprised to find the grass a little overgrown, but the perfectly manicured flowerboxes lining the walkway cause him to raise an eyebrow. He’s never known the Dane to be particularly good at maintaining any hobbies other than drinking, so the delicate and tastefully arranged display is an interesting sight. He shakes his head. The flowers probably came packaged like that.
He unlatches the heavy wooden gate and pushes it open. “Denmark?” He calls as he allows it fall shut again. He wrinkles his nose. Something smells like it’s been burning. As he rounds the corner of the house, he spots the Dane lying in the grass on the opposite side of the yard. He frowns. He came all the way here and the idiot was just sleeping in his backyard? He places an annoyed hand on his hip. “Moron, there was a meeting today, did you forget?” His scowl deepens when the other doesn’t reply. He begins stalking across the grass. “Get up, you idiot, I had to-” His step falters when he notices Denmark’s battle axe lying a few feet away. His eyebrows knit together.
Re: A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes [2c/??]
anonymous
February 16 2010, 02:59:17 UTC
“Denmark?”
He jogs across the yard to where the prostrate Dane is lying flat on his back in his pajama pants. Norway inhales sharply when he reaches him.
“Iceland!” He shouts loudly and drops to his knees beside the taller blond. “Iceland, I found him!”
Denmark’s eyes are bloodshot and wide open, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks and darting rapidly in every direction. His lips are barely parted. Hours worth of morning dew has collected in his hair and the damp grass clings to his bare, pale skin. Even his hair looks unusually flat, like he’s just rolled out of bed.
He looks harrowed.
Norway’s hands hover over him. There’s something on Denmark’s chest…no, something in his chest. A rubbery black mass is attached to his upper body, a slick looking pod that throbs and quivers like an anxious heartbeat. Long tendrils are spread out from beneath it’s position over Denmark’s heart, sneaking veins of the same wet, dark matter that are wrapped around the Dane’s torso, disappearing into his body, still visible just under the skin. The vines are pulsing in time with the center body. It’s literally making Denmark’s skin crawl.
Norway has never seen anything like it, but it doesn’t take a scientist to know it’s nothing good. “Denmark?” He gingerly prods at the other man. “Mathias, are you alright?” The only response he receives is the clattering of the gate. Norway jerks his head up as Iceland runs across the lawn to join him.
“What’s wrong with him?” His eyes widen as he takes in the scene. “What is that?”
Norway shakes his head. “I have no idea. But we need to get it off of him.”
Iceland is already pulling his phone out. He starts dialing without taking his eyes off of the shuddering foreign body. “I’ll get CLINIC over here.”
As Iceland speaks with the emergency operator, Norway turns back to Denmark. The other hasn’t moved at all since they found him, save for his eyes, which can’t seem to stay still. He grimaces. He can hear it moving; quiet, wet squelches as it beats, slick shifting as the tendrils move beneath Denmark’s flesh. He wants to rip it off, maybe smash it with the axe on the ground, but he isn’t sure how deep the tentacles have burrowed. He can’t risk hurting Denmark.
From the distance, he can hear approaching sirens and he resists the urge to run his hand through Denmark’s hair. “What happened?” He mumbles.
I love this so far and can't wait to see what Denmark's dreaming about! And Norway's concern for him is adorable. Even if you don't mean for Denmark and Norway to be a couple of sorts in this story, I still adore them as close buddies.
Glad you're liking it so far! This is my first kink meme fill, so I'm all nervous, haha. OTL
It will be probably two more chapters before we get to Denmark's dream, but that shouldn't be too far off. Chapter three will be up in about an hour or so, and four should be up by the end of the night. I work an overnight shift, so I've got a lot of free time to write. :)
Re: A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes [3a/??]
anonymous
February 16 2010, 08:50:57 UTC
As nations, they are barred from going to ordinary hospitals. It’s too dangerous and their governments don’t want to risk their exposure to normal human beings. But as the embodiments of entire countries, extremely vulnerable to sickness and war, they cannot be refused care. The Cooperative League for Injured Nation Intensive Care was established as a compromise. A complex network of hospitals over the globe, CLINIC is run and operated by government employees as well as other nations when they can spare the time, alternating in shifts to ensure that everyone is pulling their weight. For the most part, it is run like any hospital. Security is much higher, but everything else remains much the same.
When they arrive, a team of a dozen hospital workers in hazmat suits storm the back yard. Half of them swoop in on Denmark at once and load him into a bio-bag, mindful to keep their hands away from the black mass on his chest. The other half gather Norway and Iceland and hustle them back into the driveway to bombard them with questions. Norway only gives them half answers; he’s too distracted with watching them haul Denmark into the back of an unmarked ambulance. They have the paralyzed nation zipped into an airtight bag, a long tube attached to a respirator threaded through the top. When Norway questions the bag, the staff assures him that it’s for everyone’s defense.
For their own protection, the CLINIC staff refuses to allow Norway and Iceland to ride with Denmark, so the two of them follow the ambulance closely in the rental car. As they drive, Norway taps his thumb anxiously against the steering wheel. The way the staff was speaking makes it seem like they know what’s going on. That they know what that thing that’s attached it’s self to Denmark is. On one hand, it’s comforting, because if they’ve dealt with it before, it means they know how to remove it. But on the other hand, it bothers him endlessly that something like this could be happening to people and none of them could know about it.
Iceland is on his phone again, this time with the rest of their comrades. From the sounds of it, he’s talking to Finland. The younger nation speaks with the same cool calmness that he is known for, but Norway can tell otherwise. The Icelandic boy is nervous. Norway steals a look at him as he ends the call.
“Finland and Sweden are still at Germany’s, but they’re on their way,” Iceland informs him. He keys through his phone. “I don’t really know who else I should call…”
Norway shrugs and fixes his gaze on the back of the ambulance. “Prussia, maybe?”
Iceland shakes his head. “Finland said he’d tell Germany. Which means Prussia will be the next to know.” He frowns at his phone. “Who else is Denmark friends with?”
Norway thinks for a moment. “He hangs out with Holland sometimes. And Canada.”
Iceland shakes his head again. “Canada mentioned once that they only really hang out together when there’s good hash. Same goes for Holland.”
Norway’s scowl deepens. “So who else do we call then?”
Iceland closes his phone and places it back in his pocket. “No one, I guess,” he says quietly.
Norway tries to ignore the gnawing feeling that grows in the pit of his stomach.
Re: A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes [3b/??]
anonymous
February 16 2010, 08:52:25 UTC
At the CLINIC hospital, they are met at the front doors by a team of nurses, all of whom are wearing cloth masks over their noses and mouths. One of them, a tall, blond woman, steps forward with a clipboard.
“We need you to come with us, please. We have a few questions for you.”
They lead them into the hospital, down several halls. As they walk, Norway notices that everyone who is on staff is wearing the masks as well as gloves. When they approach the end of a corridor, the nurse motions for Norway to enter a room on her left, Iceland the one on her right. When he asks why they are being split up, he receives the same answer as before: “it’s for your own protection.”
Inside the room, more nurses are waiting for him as well as a doctor and several staff members in the same hazmat suits as before. The doctor greets him immediately, but not without a certain degree of nervousness. Norway doesn’t respond to the pleasantries.
“What’s going on?”
The doctor sighs. “We will explain as soon as it is possible. For now, please cooperate with our questions.” He motions for Norway to take a seat.
Norway casts an uneasy look at the door but sits nonetheless. “Fine. What do you need to know?”
The doctor nods curtly and begins to rattle off a series of premeditated questions. What time did you find him? Did he say anything to you? Was there anyone else there? Norway replies to each question easily and the doctor scribbles down his answers. As he does, the blond nation watches as the nurses fidget nervously.
The doctor pauses and glances at his notes, seeming satisfied. “Alright, there is only one more question. When you found him, did you attempt to make contact with the mass?”
Norway stares at him blankly. “What do you mean?”
“Did you touch it?”
“No.”
“Did you touch the affected?”
“Denmark?”
“Correct.”
He has to think for a moment. “Yes. His shoulder.”
The doctor’s eyes go wide behind his glasses and he stands up suddenly, yelling in frantic Danish. Startled by the abrupt change in atmosphere, Norway stands up as well, just in time for the men in hazmat suits to grab him by his arms and drag him back into the hall. He struggles against their grip, twisting and shouting angrily.
“What the hell is going on? What are you doing?”
The door on the other side of the hall flies open and Iceland rushes through. “Noregur!” He tries to follow after them but is immediately pulled back into the room.
They pull him down the hall into another room, this one much smaller and decorated only with plastics and stainless steel. The door is slammed shut and locked and they shove Norway inside. Two of the workers grab at his suit and he twists out of their grasp.
Re: A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes [3c/??]
anonymous
February 16 2010, 08:53:57 UTC
“Sir, please, this is for your own protection. Please let us do our jobs. You may be contaminated, we need to dispose of your clothes.”
Norway gapes at them. “What are you talking about? Why won’t anyone tell me what’s going on?”
“Sir, please…” the man grabs his arm.
Norway wrenches out of his grasp. “No! Tell me what the hell is going on!”
“I’m not authorized to do that. Please, the sooner you cooperate, the sooner we can move you out of contamination.”
He clenches his fists, staring them all down. After a moment, he rips his jacket and shirt off, throwing them at the feet of the workers before toeing off his shoes and shimmying out of his pants and underclothes as well. One of the suit-clad employees gathers his clothes and seals them into an air-tight red bag labeled “combustibles”. He stands in the center of the room, feeling horribly exposed.
“Well?” He demands.
The worker with his clothes finishes closing the bag and nods at the others before leaving the room. As the door shuts, three other workers descend on him, all three carrying hoses attached to small tanks that roll behind them. Norway takes a step back.
“What are you do-”
The freezing water hits him before he can finish and he immediately goes rigid, spluttering, trying to block them with his hands. “What are…? Stop! What are you doing?!”
“Sir, please! This is a necessary precaution!” One of the workers grabs his flailing arms and holds it up so that he can spray the trembling nation’s chest down. Norway could easily break the man’s arm and has half a mind to do just that, but as just as abruptly as it began, the water stops and he’s being wrapped in a long, sterile blanket.
He shivers as they usher him to the other side of the room and out a second door he hadn’t noticed before. Once he’s inside, they hand him a blue cotton jumpsuit wrapped in plastic. “Once you’re dry, you can wear this. We’ll have someone bring you some of your own clothes later.”
Norway’s mouth goes dry when he looks at the room they’ve placed him in. It’s completely white and furnished with only a bench, bed, and a toilet. The men start to back out of the room. “You’ll remain in quarantine for twenty-four hours. There’s an intercom by the bed.”
“Wait, what are-”
They slam the door shut and there is a low hissing as it locks. Airtight.
Norway blinks lamely at the closed door, dripping wet and completely naked. He looks down at the jumpsuit in his hands and then back to the door.
Re: A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes [3c/??]
anonymous
February 16 2010, 09:46:25 UTC
Hi, anon. I love sci-fi and I've been following this since the first update, just haven't commented yet. Wanted to tell you that I really like where this is going! I can't wait to see what happens next.
I actually have to go to bed now, but this was the perfect thing to read just before signing off. :D Now I'm wondering if the doctors and nurses actually know what the plant is or if they're just assuming that it could be contagious and are taking all precautions possible. I laughed at these precautions, although I have a sneaking feeling that I won't be laughing for quite some time in the parts to come.
(This is really your first fill? I wouldn't have realized that if you hadn't told me; you've got a great grasp of spelling, grammar, and a clear idea of where you're taking the plot and characters to. I'm really glad that you chose to fill this prompt even though it's your first one. ♥)
Re: A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes [4a/??]
anonymous
February 16 2010, 12:16:08 UTC
(Okay, this chapter kind of rambles on forever, haha. Please forgive any glaring medical inaccuracies. I think everything it fairly correct, but the internet HAS been known to lie before.)
After toweling off and redressing himself, Norway immediately goes for the intercom and demands to speak to Iceland. It takes over an hour of restless pacing and thumb twiddling before the speaker finally crackles and Iceland’s voice resounds through the room.
“Noregur?”
Norway sits up from his position on the bench and presses the ‘talk’ button, leaning forward to the speaker. “I’m here. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. They just asked me a bunch of questions and made me fill out some paperwork. Where are you?”
Norway sighs angrily. “They put me in quarantine. I’m here until tomorrow.”
There is a long pause and Norway can just barely hear the shuffling of papers. “Why?”
“Because I made the mistake of touching Denmark.” He slumps forward slightly and rakes a hand through his hair. “How is he?”
“I don’t know. They aren’t letting anyone into his room.” There is the sound of more rustling.
Norway frowns. “Where are you?”
“At the front reception desk by the front doors,” Iceland sounds irritated. “They won’t give me an privacy. I can’t go anywhere without an escort.”
Norway pauses and rubs at his temples. After a moment, he exhales slowly. “Has anyone else come yet or are you by yourself?”
“No, it’s just me.”
“Have you heard from Sweden or Finland at all?”
“Not since we drove here. I don’t think they’re in any hurry…” his voice fades out suddenly, muffled. “I have to go. They’re making me go back to fill out more paperwork. I’ll call you again as soon as I can.”
“Alright. If they let you see him, tell Denmark he’s a pain in the ass.”
Iceland laughs softly. “I will. Talk to you later.”
The intercom buzzes again and Norway is once again left in silence. He sighs and leans back against the wall, hands folded neatly in his lap. They haven’t left him anything other than the bed, bench, and lavatory; he has no idea how he’s going to occupy himself for twenty-four hours. He still feels chilled from his impromptu shower. Combined with a nasty case of jetlag, he supposes that he might as well try to take a nap to kill time and moves to carefully re-position the pin in his damp hair, thankful that the doctors hadn’t tried to take that as well. He pulls the starchy covers back. As soon as he’s positioned himself under the blankets, he belatedly realizes that there is no light switch. He yanks the covers over his head.
Re: A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes [4b/??]
anonymous
February 16 2010, 12:18:36 UTC
NO ONE SAW THAT DE-ANON
Despite the uncomfortable conditions, he manages to sleep for nearly ten hours before he’s woken up by the sound of the door opening. He sits up in bed just as Iceland pushes through the door followed by Japan and several doctors. Japan approaches the bed and bows to him and then moves to shake his hand, smiling gently.
“Norway-san, it has been a while,” he greets him kindly.
“Yeah…” he yawns and slides out of bed. “It hasn’t been twenty-four hours has it?”
Iceland shakes his head. “No. Finland threw a fit about you being in here and Japan pulled some strings to get you released early.”
Norway blinks and rubs the sleep from his eyes. He stares are Japan. “You’re wearing a lab coat,” he states flatly. “Are you working here?”
“Ah, well…” Japan shuffles slightly and holds his clipboard to his chest. “It is my shift, yes, but I am generally not working at the Copenhagen clinic.”
“So…what are you doing here?”
Japan motions for Norway to follow him and he begins walking toward the door. “I will explain on the way. Please, join us.”
Norway nods, falling into step with Iceland, and silently follows the small group into the elevators at the end of the hall. Once the doors slide shut, Japan swipes a keycard through a reader and selects the basement floor. As the elevator begins to move, he clears his throat.
“I was called in from my post in Tokyo because of the circumstances surrounding Denmark-san’s injury. Normally, one of his own doctors would be handling him, but this is a special exception.”
The elevator pulls to a stop and they file out.
“You must understand, first, that the entity that has attached its self to him is not of our world and it is something that we have only encountered three times before. Two of those were in my county, the third in Switzerland.”
They stop in front of a set of locked double doors. Japan once again swipes his card and the doors swing open.
“In all three cases, however, it has attached to normal civilians. This is the first time it has ever come in contact with any of our kind.”
Iceland frowns deeply. “So…what is it?”
Japan sighs. “That is a bit harder to explain, I am afraid. In all three of the previous cases, the affected humans died shortly after contact and we were only able to study the residue left behind. From what we can surmise, it is a plant material. But, based on the fluids left behind, we hypothesized that it may also be sentient. We were able to confirm that fact today.”
They turn down another long corridor.
“Where does it come from?” Norway asks. “It can’t possibly be a naturally occurring phenomenon on Earth.”
Japan nods. “We have been able to determine that it is not from Earth. But beyond that, we do not know where it comes from.”
They stop in front of a plain, unmarked door, the only one in the hall. Japan once again pulls out his keycard and sighs. “Before we go in, I must warn you…he is in fairly rough shape, physically. It is probably unnecessary, since it is highly unlikely to be contagious, but the hospital is requiring that everyone wears a mask and gloves while in the room with him, so, if you would…?”
The doctors hold out a mask for each of them, followed by a pair of gloves. The two Nordic nations exchange pensive glances and wordlessly slip on the protective coverings. Norway glances at Japan.
Re: A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes [4c/??]
anonymous
February 16 2010, 12:19:34 UTC
“Where are Sweden and Finland? Have they been in yet?”
Japan swipes his key in the door. “They visited briefly so that I could explain the situation, but they did not go inside. I believe they are in the cafeteria with Sealand. They did not want him seeing anything that might give him nightmares.”
He pushes the door open and holds it for them to file in, the doctors waiting in the hall. Inside the room, they are greeted by the steady beeping of a heart monitor and the even, hissing compressions of a respirator machine. Denmark is laid out on his back, arms at his sides, surrounded by a large Plexiglass case that is latched to the bed with several heavy locks. There are several small holes in the top of the box where tubes have been run through to attach to the IVs in his arms and the oxygen tubes in his nose as well as to the electrical nodes attached to his head. From outside the glass, a pair of thick rubber gloves hangs from an airtight, two-way seal.
“The incubator is just a precaution,” Japan explains, locking the door. “For now. We do not think it will try to escape for some time.”
Norway approaches the case slowly. Denmark’s eyes are covered by a soft white mask and he looks much more relaxed than before. The black mass throbs in time with the steady beeps of the heart monitor. “You mean you don’t think it will try to escape until he’s dead,” he says flatly. There seems to be more tendrils than there was earlier and the old ones look deeper set, some having made it as far as the Dane’s collarbone and hips, slithering and pulsing, irritating the affected skin to a dark red color.
Japan clasps his hands in front of him. “Ah…well…yes, that is the general consensus. We believe it stays with the host until it passes away.”
Iceland frowns. “Can’t you just cut it off?”
Japan shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. We have made attempts to remove it, but anytime a foreign body gets within a certain distance, his heart seizes.” He motions to Denmark. “If we try to forcibly remove it, we risk killing him as well. We are also worried that if it is removed from it’s host body, it will immediately try and latch on to a new one. As such, everyone who comes into contact with him is at risk.”
Iceland crosses his arms and takes another step toward the incubator. “What is it doing?” He asks quietly. “I mean…what does it need? Is it taking his blood?”
“It acts similarly to a parasite,” Japan explains. “It attaches it’s self to a host body in order to sustain it’s self. It seems to need serotonin in order to survive, but it also seems to thrive on the fast oscillating gamma rhythms produced by the human brain. But only in high enough hertz. Twenty to forty hertz, to be exact.” He approaches the case and slips his hands into the rubber gloves, turning them inside out and pushing them inside of the case. “In other words, it survives off of deep sleep.” He gently removes the mask from Denmark’s eyes.
Beneath the cloth, the Dane’s eyes are closed, but his eyelids are twitching, eyes darting rapidly beneath them, eyelashes fluttering occasionally.
Re: A Dream is a Wish your Heart Makes [4d/??]
anonymous
February 16 2010, 12:20:49 UTC
Norway straightens up, staring at Japan. “You mean he’s sleeping?”
Japan nods and removes his hands from the case. “That is correct.” He motions to the nodes attached the Denmark’s forehead and temples. “We have been monitoring his brainwaves since we stabilized him. From what we can tell, he has been dreaming this entire time.”
Iceland leans over the case, peering in and watching the steady rise and fall of Denmark’s chest as he takes deep, shallow breaths. “Does it hurt?” He points to the tendrils. “He’s bleeding.”
Japan sighs. “We do not believe he can feel anything or is even aware of what is happening to him. During a normal REM cycle, our bodies experience sleep paralysis. It’s a protection mechanism to make sure that we do not hurt ourselves while we dream. We believe that he is experiencing just that. All in all, it’s a rather gentle attack. Our staff has dubbed it ‘the black mercy.’” He turns to the heart monitor. “Unfortunately, we are unable to completely contain the bleeding. As I said before, if we get anywhere near the entity, it goes into survival mode. Transfusions may become necessary if we do not find a solution within twenty-four hours.”
Norway straightens up suddenly. “Kiku…” he says slowly. “How close are you to finding a solution?”
The small Asian nation shakes his head. “Nowhere near, I am afraid. We simply have no data to fall back on. We are flying blind.”
Norway turns back to the case. “How long do you have to find one?”
Japan shuffles awkwardly. “That is also unknown. Based on previous accounts, it takes forty-eight hours for it to finish with an ordinary human. However, we are much more resilient.” He sighs. “We are speculating no more than five days, however.”
Norway’s heart sinks. “Five days? From now?”
Japan nods. “From this morning.”
Norway’s hand curls into a fist against the Plexiglass. “Is there anything we can do?”
Japan shakes his head. “We currently have our top staff members testing theories for safe removal, and we several more doctors being flown in as we speak.”
Norway looks to Japan and then back to Denmark. A long tendril makes a muffled squishing sound as it pushes further up into Denmark’s neck, sliding past his jaw and curling into cheek. Iceland makes a disgusted sound in the back of his throat.
“I’m going to go find Sweden and Finland,” he says softly. “Are you coming?”
Norway pauses as he watches the fleshy vine settle into Denmark’s face. “No…I think I’m going to stay here for a bit.”
Iceland nods and quickly exits.
Japan watches him leave. “He was looking a bit green around the gills. I hope he is alright.”
Norway shrugs. “He’ll be fine.” He rubs his eyes. He suddenly feels tired despite his long nap. “Japan, is there really nothing I can do right now?”
Kiku places a gentle hand on Norway’s forearm. “Our doctors are working around the clock. The best we can do is to keep him company and keep his dreams pleasant, I suppose.”
Norway bites the inside of his cheek. “Am I allowed to stay in the room with him?”
Japan nods. “I do not see the harm in it. We have a team monitoring him electrically from the room above this one. It would be beneficial to have someone watching over him personally as well.”
Norway glares at him. “That was an interesting choice of words.”
Japan straightens and smiles knowingly. “Mmm, was it? My apologies, I did not mean to offend.”
Norway just shakes his head.
Kiku tucks his clipboard under his arm and motions to the gloves hanging from the case. “You may touch him anywhere that is clear of tentacles. Be mindful not to go within five centimeters of an infected area and do not try to touch the black mercy at all. I am going to go meet with our doctors and see what progress has been made.” He pats Norway’s shoulder. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you, Japan.”
Japan nods and bows to him, then turns to the case and bows to Denmark as well. “Sleep well, Denmark-san.” He goes to the door. “I will be back as soon as I can. Hopefully with good news.”
He casts Norway one last small smile before leaving, shutting the door quietly, leaving Norway alone with the slow, steady beats of the heart monitor.
As the rest of the nations slowly gather their things and disperse back to their respective taxis, Norway pauses by reception to check one last time with the secretary who, again, has not seen the missing Dane. He thanks her and grabs his suitcase before he goes to meet Iceland at the airport shuttle.
“Any word?” Iceland asks once they are seated in the van. The younger nation has long since discarded his tie and tucked it away in his briefcase.
Norway sighs and shakes his head. “No, he’s still not answering.” He slides out of his blazer and sits back in his seat, glad to be out of the uncomfortable plastic chairs of the boardroom.
Iceland shrugs. “He’s probably just hung over. I hear he’s been hanging out with Prussia a lot.”
“Maybe. That or he’s just an idiot who can’t keep his calendar updated.” He neatly folds his jacket. “Still, it’s odd for him not to be answering his phone.”
Iceland just rolls his eyes. “If he was drinking with Prussia, his phone could be on the bottom of the ocean by now.” He leans back. “Everything’s fine, I’m sure. You shouldn’t worry too much.”
Norway bristles slightly. “I’m not worried.” He motions to his briefcase. “I’m just annoyed because now I have to take him the notes from the meeting. He had better have a good reason for missing it, too. If he did just get drunk and drop his phone in the water, I’m going to drown him in it.”
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Iceland follows him up the walkway the front door, mindful to lock the gate. “His bike and car are still here,” he points to the driveway.
Norway’s frown deepens. “If he’s passed out, I swear…” he grumbles and bangs on the door. He pauses for a moment, listening for the familiar heavy footsteps of his fellow nation, scowling when the only thing he hears is the rustling of the Danish flag on the porch fluttering softly. He knocks again. Still nothing. He pulls out his phone, dials, and presses his ear against the door. After a few seconds of silence, he can hear the muffled ringtone of Denmark’s phone from inside. He snaps his cell shut and tucks it in his pocket. “I’m going to check the backyard,” he steps off of the porch. “Could you check to see if his garage is unlocked?”
Iceland nods and heads in the opposite direction. Norway turns the corner of the house to the gate to the backyard. It’s been quite some time since he’s been to Denmark’s house and even longer still since he’s set foot in his yard. He’s unsurprised to find the grass a little overgrown, but the perfectly manicured flowerboxes lining the walkway cause him to raise an eyebrow. He’s never known the Dane to be particularly good at maintaining any hobbies other than drinking, so the delicate and tastefully arranged display is an interesting sight. He shakes his head. The flowers probably came packaged like that.
He unlatches the heavy wooden gate and pushes it open. “Denmark?” He calls as he allows it fall shut again. He wrinkles his nose. Something smells like it’s been burning. As he rounds the corner of the house, he spots the Dane lying in the grass on the opposite side of the yard. He frowns. He came all the way here and the idiot was just sleeping in his backyard? He places an annoyed hand on his hip. “Moron, there was a meeting today, did you forget?” His scowl deepens when the other doesn’t reply. He begins stalking across the grass. “Get up, you idiot, I had to-” His step falters when he notices Denmark’s battle axe lying a few feet away. His eyebrows knit together.
Something’s not right.
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He jogs across the yard to where the prostrate Dane is lying flat on his back in his pajama pants. Norway inhales sharply when he reaches him.
“Iceland!” He shouts loudly and drops to his knees beside the taller blond. “Iceland, I found him!”
Denmark’s eyes are bloodshot and wide open, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks and darting rapidly in every direction. His lips are barely parted. Hours worth of morning dew has collected in his hair and the damp grass clings to his bare, pale skin. Even his hair looks unusually flat, like he’s just rolled out of bed.
He looks harrowed.
Norway’s hands hover over him. There’s something on Denmark’s chest…no, something in his chest. A rubbery black mass is attached to his upper body, a slick looking pod that throbs and quivers like an anxious heartbeat. Long tendrils are spread out from beneath it’s position over Denmark’s heart, sneaking veins of the same wet, dark matter that are wrapped around the Dane’s torso, disappearing into his body, still visible just under the skin. The vines are pulsing in time with the center body. It’s literally making Denmark’s skin crawl.
Norway has never seen anything like it, but it doesn’t take a scientist to know it’s nothing good. “Denmark?” He gingerly prods at the other man. “Mathias, are you alright?” The only response he receives is the clattering of the gate. Norway jerks his head up as Iceland runs across the lawn to join him.
“What’s wrong with him?” His eyes widen as he takes in the scene. “What is that?”
Norway shakes his head. “I have no idea. But we need to get it off of him.”
Iceland is already pulling his phone out. He starts dialing without taking his eyes off of the shuddering foreign body. “I’ll get CLINIC over here.”
As Iceland speaks with the emergency operator, Norway turns back to Denmark. The other hasn’t moved at all since they found him, save for his eyes, which can’t seem to stay still. He grimaces. He can hear it moving; quiet, wet squelches as it beats, slick shifting as the tendrils move beneath Denmark’s flesh. He wants to rip it off, maybe smash it with the axe on the ground, but he isn’t sure how deep the tentacles have burrowed. He can’t risk hurting Denmark.
From the distance, he can hear approaching sirens and he resists the urge to run his hand through Denmark’s hair. “What happened?” He mumbles.
There is no response.
(More coming later tonight.)
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It will be probably two more chapters before we get to Denmark's dream, but that shouldn't be too far off. Chapter three will be up in about an hour or so, and four should be up by the end of the night. I work an overnight shift, so I've got a lot of free time to write. :)
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Will there be angst? Please let there be angst.
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Glad you're liking it so far. :D
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When they arrive, a team of a dozen hospital workers in hazmat suits storm the back yard. Half of them swoop in on Denmark at once and load him into a bio-bag, mindful to keep their hands away from the black mass on his chest. The other half gather Norway and Iceland and hustle them back into the driveway to bombard them with questions. Norway only gives them half answers; he’s too distracted with watching them haul Denmark into the back of an unmarked ambulance. They have the paralyzed nation zipped into an airtight bag, a long tube attached to a respirator threaded through the top. When Norway questions the bag, the staff assures him that it’s for everyone’s defense.
For their own protection, the CLINIC staff refuses to allow Norway and Iceland to ride with Denmark, so the two of them follow the ambulance closely in the rental car. As they drive, Norway taps his thumb anxiously against the steering wheel. The way the staff was speaking makes it seem like they know what’s going on. That they know what that thing that’s attached it’s self to Denmark is. On one hand, it’s comforting, because if they’ve dealt with it before, it means they know how to remove it. But on the other hand, it bothers him endlessly that something like this could be happening to people and none of them could know about it.
Iceland is on his phone again, this time with the rest of their comrades. From the sounds of it, he’s talking to Finland. The younger nation speaks with the same cool calmness that he is known for, but Norway can tell otherwise. The Icelandic boy is nervous. Norway steals a look at him as he ends the call.
“Finland and Sweden are still at Germany’s, but they’re on their way,” Iceland informs him. He keys through his phone. “I don’t really know who else I should call…”
Norway shrugs and fixes his gaze on the back of the ambulance. “Prussia, maybe?”
Iceland shakes his head. “Finland said he’d tell Germany. Which means Prussia will be the next to know.” He frowns at his phone. “Who else is Denmark friends with?”
Norway thinks for a moment. “He hangs out with Holland sometimes. And Canada.”
Iceland shakes his head again. “Canada mentioned once that they only really hang out together when there’s good hash. Same goes for Holland.”
Norway’s scowl deepens. “So who else do we call then?”
Iceland closes his phone and places it back in his pocket. “No one, I guess,” he says quietly.
Norway tries to ignore the gnawing feeling that grows in the pit of his stomach.
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“We need you to come with us, please. We have a few questions for you.”
They lead them into the hospital, down several halls. As they walk, Norway notices that everyone who is on staff is wearing the masks as well as gloves. When they approach the end of a corridor, the nurse motions for Norway to enter a room on her left, Iceland the one on her right. When he asks why they are being split up, he receives the same answer as before: “it’s for your own protection.”
Inside the room, more nurses are waiting for him as well as a doctor and several staff members in the same hazmat suits as before. The doctor greets him immediately, but not without a certain degree of nervousness. Norway doesn’t respond to the pleasantries.
“What’s going on?”
The doctor sighs. “We will explain as soon as it is possible. For now, please cooperate with our questions.” He motions for Norway to take a seat.
Norway casts an uneasy look at the door but sits nonetheless. “Fine. What do you need to know?”
The doctor nods curtly and begins to rattle off a series of premeditated questions. What time did you find him? Did he say anything to you? Was there anyone else there? Norway replies to each question easily and the doctor scribbles down his answers. As he does, the blond nation watches as the nurses fidget nervously.
The doctor pauses and glances at his notes, seeming satisfied. “Alright, there is only one more question. When you found him, did you attempt to make contact with the mass?”
Norway stares at him blankly. “What do you mean?”
“Did you touch it?”
“No.”
“Did you touch the affected?”
“Denmark?”
“Correct.”
He has to think for a moment. “Yes. His shoulder.”
The doctor’s eyes go wide behind his glasses and he stands up suddenly, yelling in frantic Danish. Startled by the abrupt change in atmosphere, Norway stands up as well, just in time for the men in hazmat suits to grab him by his arms and drag him back into the hall. He struggles against their grip, twisting and shouting angrily.
“What the hell is going on? What are you doing?”
The door on the other side of the hall flies open and Iceland rushes through. “Noregur!” He tries to follow after them but is immediately pulled back into the room.
They pull him down the hall into another room, this one much smaller and decorated only with plastics and stainless steel. The door is slammed shut and locked and they shove Norway inside. Two of the workers grab at his suit and he twists out of their grasp.
“What do you think your doing?!”
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Norway gapes at them. “What are you talking about? Why won’t anyone tell me what’s going on?”
“Sir, please…” the man grabs his arm.
Norway wrenches out of his grasp. “No! Tell me what the hell is going on!”
“I’m not authorized to do that. Please, the sooner you cooperate, the sooner we can move you out of contamination.”
He clenches his fists, staring them all down. After a moment, he rips his jacket and shirt off, throwing them at the feet of the workers before toeing off his shoes and shimmying out of his pants and underclothes as well. One of the suit-clad employees gathers his clothes and seals them into an air-tight red bag labeled “combustibles”. He stands in the center of the room, feeling horribly exposed.
“Well?” He demands.
The worker with his clothes finishes closing the bag and nods at the others before leaving the room. As the door shuts, three other workers descend on him, all three carrying hoses attached to small tanks that roll behind them. Norway takes a step back.
“What are you do-”
The freezing water hits him before he can finish and he immediately goes rigid, spluttering, trying to block them with his hands. “What are…? Stop! What are you doing?!”
“Sir, please! This is a necessary precaution!” One of the workers grabs his flailing arms and holds it up so that he can spray the trembling nation’s chest down. Norway could easily break the man’s arm and has half a mind to do just that, but as just as abruptly as it began, the water stops and he’s being wrapped in a long, sterile blanket.
He shivers as they usher him to the other side of the room and out a second door he hadn’t noticed before. Once he’s inside, they hand him a blue cotton jumpsuit wrapped in plastic. “Once you’re dry, you can wear this. We’ll have someone bring you some of your own clothes later.”
Norway’s mouth goes dry when he looks at the room they’ve placed him in. It’s completely white and furnished with only a bench, bed, and a toilet. The men start to back out of the room. “You’ll remain in quarantine for twenty-four hours. There’s an intercom by the bed.”
“Wait, what are-”
They slam the door shut and there is a low hissing as it locks. Airtight.
Norway blinks lamely at the closed door, dripping wet and completely naked. He looks down at the jumpsuit in his hands and then back to the door.
“What on Earth just happened?”
(More in a few hours.)
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(This is really your first fill? I wouldn't have realized that if you hadn't told me; you've got a great grasp of spelling, grammar, and a clear idea of where you're taking the plot and characters to. I'm really glad that you chose to fill this prompt even though it's your first one. ♥)
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After toweling off and redressing himself, Norway immediately goes for the intercom and demands to speak to Iceland. It takes over an hour of restless pacing and thumb twiddling before the speaker finally crackles and Iceland’s voice resounds through the room.
“Noregur?”
Norway sits up from his position on the bench and presses the ‘talk’ button, leaning forward to the speaker. “I’m here. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. They just asked me a bunch of questions and made me fill out some paperwork. Where are you?”
Norway sighs angrily. “They put me in quarantine. I’m here until tomorrow.”
There is a long pause and Norway can just barely hear the shuffling of papers. “Why?”
“Because I made the mistake of touching Denmark.” He slumps forward slightly and rakes a hand through his hair. “How is he?”
“I don’t know. They aren’t letting anyone into his room.” There is the sound of more rustling.
Norway frowns. “Where are you?”
“At the front reception desk by the front doors,” Iceland sounds irritated. “They won’t give me an privacy. I can’t go anywhere without an escort.”
Norway pauses and rubs at his temples. After a moment, he exhales slowly. “Has anyone else come yet or are you by yourself?”
“No, it’s just me.”
“Have you heard from Sweden or Finland at all?”
“Not since we drove here. I don’t think they’re in any hurry…” his voice fades out suddenly, muffled. “I have to go. They’re making me go back to fill out more paperwork. I’ll call you again as soon as I can.”
“Alright. If they let you see him, tell Denmark he’s a pain in the ass.”
Iceland laughs softly. “I will. Talk to you later.”
The intercom buzzes again and Norway is once again left in silence. He sighs and leans back against the wall, hands folded neatly in his lap. They haven’t left him anything other than the bed, bench, and lavatory; he has no idea how he’s going to occupy himself for twenty-four hours. He still feels chilled from his impromptu shower. Combined with a nasty case of jetlag, he supposes that he might as well try to take a nap to kill time and moves to carefully re-position the pin in his damp hair, thankful that the doctors hadn’t tried to take that as well. He pulls the starchy covers back. As soon as he’s positioned himself under the blankets, he belatedly realizes that there is no light switch. He yanks the covers over his head.
It’s going to be a long night.
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Despite the uncomfortable conditions, he manages to sleep for nearly ten hours before he’s woken up by the sound of the door opening. He sits up in bed just as Iceland pushes through the door followed by Japan and several doctors. Japan approaches the bed and bows to him and then moves to shake his hand, smiling gently.
“Norway-san, it has been a while,” he greets him kindly.
“Yeah…” he yawns and slides out of bed. “It hasn’t been twenty-four hours has it?”
Iceland shakes his head. “No. Finland threw a fit about you being in here and Japan pulled some strings to get you released early.”
Norway blinks and rubs the sleep from his eyes. He stares are Japan. “You’re wearing a lab coat,” he states flatly. “Are you working here?”
“Ah, well…” Japan shuffles slightly and holds his clipboard to his chest. “It is my shift, yes, but I am generally not working at the Copenhagen clinic.”
“So…what are you doing here?”
Japan motions for Norway to follow him and he begins walking toward the door. “I will explain on the way. Please, join us.”
Norway nods, falling into step with Iceland, and silently follows the small group into the elevators at the end of the hall. Once the doors slide shut, Japan swipes a keycard through a reader and selects the basement floor. As the elevator begins to move, he clears his throat.
“I was called in from my post in Tokyo because of the circumstances surrounding Denmark-san’s injury. Normally, one of his own doctors would be handling him, but this is a special exception.”
The elevator pulls to a stop and they file out.
“You must understand, first, that the entity that has attached its self to him is not of our world and it is something that we have only encountered three times before. Two of those were in my county, the third in Switzerland.”
They stop in front of a set of locked double doors. Japan once again swipes his card and the doors swing open.
“In all three cases, however, it has attached to normal civilians. This is the first time it has ever come in contact with any of our kind.”
Iceland frowns deeply. “So…what is it?”
Japan sighs. “That is a bit harder to explain, I am afraid. In all three of the previous cases, the affected humans died shortly after contact and we were only able to study the residue left behind. From what we can surmise, it is a plant material. But, based on the fluids left behind, we hypothesized that it may also be sentient. We were able to confirm that fact today.”
They turn down another long corridor.
“Where does it come from?” Norway asks. “It can’t possibly be a naturally occurring phenomenon on Earth.”
Japan nods. “We have been able to determine that it is not from Earth. But beyond that, we do not know where it comes from.”
They stop in front of a plain, unmarked door, the only one in the hall. Japan once again pulls out his keycard and sighs. “Before we go in, I must warn you…he is in fairly rough shape, physically. It is probably unnecessary, since it is highly unlikely to be contagious, but the hospital is requiring that everyone wears a mask and gloves while in the room with him, so, if you would…?”
The doctors hold out a mask for each of them, followed by a pair of gloves. The two Nordic nations exchange pensive glances and wordlessly slip on the protective coverings. Norway glances at Japan.
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Japan swipes his key in the door. “They visited briefly so that I could explain the situation, but they did not go inside. I believe they are in the cafeteria with Sealand. They did not want him seeing anything that might give him nightmares.”
He pushes the door open and holds it for them to file in, the doctors waiting in the hall. Inside the room, they are greeted by the steady beeping of a heart monitor and the even, hissing compressions of a respirator machine. Denmark is laid out on his back, arms at his sides, surrounded by a large Plexiglass case that is latched to the bed with several heavy locks. There are several small holes in the top of the box where tubes have been run through to attach to the IVs in his arms and the oxygen tubes in his nose as well as to the electrical nodes attached to his head. From outside the glass, a pair of thick rubber gloves hangs from an airtight, two-way seal.
“The incubator is just a precaution,” Japan explains, locking the door. “For now. We do not think it will try to escape for some time.”
Norway approaches the case slowly. Denmark’s eyes are covered by a soft white mask and he looks much more relaxed than before. The black mass throbs in time with the steady beeps of the heart monitor. “You mean you don’t think it will try to escape until he’s dead,” he says flatly. There seems to be more tendrils than there was earlier and the old ones look deeper set, some having made it as far as the Dane’s collarbone and hips, slithering and pulsing, irritating the affected skin to a dark red color.
Japan clasps his hands in front of him. “Ah…well…yes, that is the general consensus. We believe it stays with the host until it passes away.”
Iceland frowns. “Can’t you just cut it off?”
Japan shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. We have made attempts to remove it, but anytime a foreign body gets within a certain distance, his heart seizes.” He motions to Denmark. “If we try to forcibly remove it, we risk killing him as well. We are also worried that if it is removed from it’s host body, it will immediately try and latch on to a new one. As such, everyone who comes into contact with him is at risk.”
Iceland crosses his arms and takes another step toward the incubator. “What is it doing?” He asks quietly. “I mean…what does it need? Is it taking his blood?”
“It acts similarly to a parasite,” Japan explains. “It attaches it’s self to a host body in order to sustain it’s self. It seems to need serotonin in order to survive, but it also seems to thrive on the fast oscillating gamma rhythms produced by the human brain. But only in high enough hertz. Twenty to forty hertz, to be exact.” He approaches the case and slips his hands into the rubber gloves, turning them inside out and pushing them inside of the case. “In other words, it survives off of deep sleep.” He gently removes the mask from Denmark’s eyes.
Beneath the cloth, the Dane’s eyes are closed, but his eyelids are twitching, eyes darting rapidly beneath them, eyelashes fluttering occasionally.
“Specifically, REM sleep.”
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Japan nods and removes his hands from the case. “That is correct.” He motions to the nodes attached the Denmark’s forehead and temples. “We have been monitoring his brainwaves since we stabilized him. From what we can tell, he has been dreaming this entire time.”
Iceland leans over the case, peering in and watching the steady rise and fall of Denmark’s chest as he takes deep, shallow breaths. “Does it hurt?” He points to the tendrils. “He’s bleeding.”
Japan sighs. “We do not believe he can feel anything or is even aware of what is happening to him. During a normal REM cycle, our bodies experience sleep paralysis. It’s a protection mechanism to make sure that we do not hurt ourselves while we dream. We believe that he is experiencing just that. All in all, it’s a rather gentle attack. Our staff has dubbed it ‘the black mercy.’” He turns to the heart monitor. “Unfortunately, we are unable to completely contain the bleeding. As I said before, if we get anywhere near the entity, it goes into survival mode. Transfusions may become necessary if we do not find a solution within twenty-four hours.”
Norway straightens up suddenly. “Kiku…” he says slowly. “How close are you to finding a solution?”
The small Asian nation shakes his head. “Nowhere near, I am afraid. We simply have no data to fall back on. We are flying blind.”
Norway turns back to the case. “How long do you have to find one?”
Japan shuffles awkwardly. “That is also unknown. Based on previous accounts, it takes forty-eight hours for it to finish with an ordinary human. However, we are much more resilient.” He sighs. “We are speculating no more than five days, however.”
Norway’s heart sinks. “Five days? From now?”
Japan nods. “From this morning.”
Norway’s hand curls into a fist against the Plexiglass. “Is there anything we can do?”
Japan shakes his head. “We currently have our top staff members testing theories for safe removal, and we several more doctors being flown in as we speak.”
Norway looks to Japan and then back to Denmark. A long tendril makes a muffled squishing sound as it pushes further up into Denmark’s neck, sliding past his jaw and curling into cheek. Iceland makes a disgusted sound in the back of his throat.
“I’m going to go find Sweden and Finland,” he says softly. “Are you coming?”
Norway pauses as he watches the fleshy vine settle into Denmark’s face. “No…I think I’m going to stay here for a bit.”
Iceland nods and quickly exits.
Japan watches him leave. “He was looking a bit green around the gills. I hope he is alright.”
Norway shrugs. “He’ll be fine.” He rubs his eyes. He suddenly feels tired despite his long nap. “Japan, is there really nothing I can do right now?”
Kiku places a gentle hand on Norway’s forearm. “Our doctors are working around the clock. The best we can do is to keep him company and keep his dreams pleasant, I suppose.”
Norway bites the inside of his cheek. “Am I allowed to stay in the room with him?”
Japan nods. “I do not see the harm in it. We have a team monitoring him electrically from the room above this one. It would be beneficial to have someone watching over him personally as well.”
Norway glares at him. “That was an interesting choice of words.”
Japan straightens and smiles knowingly. “Mmm, was it? My apologies, I did not mean to offend.”
Norway just shakes his head.
Kiku tucks his clipboard under his arm and motions to the gloves hanging from the case. “You may touch him anywhere that is clear of tentacles. Be mindful not to go within five centimeters of an infected area and do not try to touch the black mercy at all. I am going to go meet with our doctors and see what progress has been made.” He pats Norway’s shoulder. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you, Japan.”
Japan nods and bows to him, then turns to the case and bows to Denmark as well. “Sleep well, Denmark-san.” He goes to the door. “I will be back as soon as I can. Hopefully with good news.”
He casts Norway one last small smile before leaving, shutting the door quietly, leaving Norway alone with the slow, steady beats of the heart monitor.
(More coming tomorrow!)
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