Chapter Text
They had made it into the first floor, and Emil was sprinting through the maze of tile, the wheels in his mind churning as he mapped out their route to the door.
On the way, a certain annoying Dane burst from one of the side doors.
"Sup!?" He screamed as he skidded across the hall, crouching with his fingers just brushing the tiles, long caped black coat he wore on missions billowing and cap askew.
"Den!" Emil and Tino cried in unison.
"Great to see you, Finny! Are you hurt?" He asked, his joy at seeing his teammate alive replacing itself with worry about why he wasn't on his own two feet and was being cradled in Emil's arms instead.
"I..." Tino began his round-about explanation that would protect his dignity.
"He's too weak, hasn't eaten enough, and hasn't moved enough to keep up."
Emil said before Finny could start his rant.
They continued toward the door when several armed members of Morgan's ranks came flying around the corner in hot pursuit.
"They rescued the prisoner!" One barked.
"Fire!" Another ordered.
Emil and Mathias, with a now drained Tino, hurled themselves around the next bend to avoid the spray of bullets that peppered the drywall behind them.
"This is Denmark accompanied by Iceland and a subdued Finland." Mathias began to speak into his earpiece.
"Hey!" Tino protested weakly against being referred to as 'subdued,' but the heaviness weighing his eyelids wasn't exactly helping his case.
"We're being pursued by armed hostiles and have already been fired upon. Alternate routes?"
Kiku, in the van with Feli handling the wheel and all of the other operatives, minus Ivan surrounding him, clattered away at the keyboard built into the desktop, selecting their trackers and scanning the screen through his glasses lenses.
"Take the next right and try the window." He finally told the Nordics via com.
"I'll break it. You dive through." Den told Iceland.
Finland's head was starting to nod, eyelids drooping lower, and he struggled for consciousness.
"Here goes!" Mathias ran at the large window and jumped into a side kick.
He shattered the glass with his boot and went flying uncoordinatedly through, rolling across the grassy lawn and springing to his feet.
"Pass him out!" He reached back.
Emil hurriedly handed Tino through the window and hopped onto the ledge.
"Incoming!" He yelped as he dropped, just in time to avoid the snatching hand of one of Morgan's goons.
Dashing madly across the lawn in wild zigzagged patterns, attempting to throw off their attackers' aim, the two of them made for the gate.
"Pick us up! Hurry!" Emil screamed into the earpiece.
"Italy!" Kiku relayed.
"VE~!" The Italian sang happily, curl bouncing as he stomped on the gas, sending them screeching around and towards the gates of the scraper.
The van had a battering ram disguised as a bike rack on the roof.
With the press of a button, Feliciano lowered the ram down to the front of the van.
"VIVA ITALIA!" He cried out as he floored the gas.
"Aii-yah! Watch it, Italy!" Yao cried out as he seized the chair he was sitting on. Several others rolled to the back of the van like balls across a tilted table.
They smashed the gates, and Feli spun the wheel hard, swinging them around.
Lukas threw open one of the backdoors.
The three fleeing Nordic's arrived, Lukas seizing Emil's arm, dragging him into the van, and shoving him into the far back, placing several older operatives between him and the door, away from any threat.
Emil would have complained about how they all moved to protect him though he was perfectly capable of doing it himself, but now, he knew, was hardly the time. Lukas reached out and gripped the sleeve of Mathias's coat, hauling him and Tino, still being carried, into the car.
"We're being boxed in!" Feli wailed in terror as several more of Morgan's goons moved around the van. He didn't want to attempt ramming them. He could accidentally kill someone.
If Germany was driving, they'd be halfway down the street, but Italy just didn't have it in his heart to be a killer.
That was when Ivan came barreling out the doors, and at that very moment, everyone in the van agreed that not even a tank could stop that Russian now.
His powerful, lightning-fast, and insanely overpowering fighting style had the goons falling like no more than a bunch of bowling pins before him.
That was when one of the more resilient of the squads' men that Ivan had thought unconscious propped himself up and raised his pistol.
Ivan jerked forward as the bullet tore into him. A cry of pain fights out from between his gritted teeth.
"Russia! Operative shot, bros!" America bellowed, shoving open one of the doors and charging to aid Ivan, who was now on one knee and clutching at his right shoulder, his coat being stained an even darker red.
"I'll help him!" Yao surprised himself and everyone else by diving from the back of the van as America jumped back, nearly losing his glasses. Somehow, the shooter had just been violently knocked out by a stunning shot from above. America scanned the skies for the mysterious gunner as Yao crouched by his teammate's side.
"C'mon, we have to get you in the van!" The Chinese exclaimed, pulling Ivan's left arm over his shoulder and standing, letting the mammoth seventeen-year-old lean heavily against him.
China half helped half-dragged Russia to the van. Once there, France grabbed his coat and pulled.
"Hurry, mon ami! We need to move now!" He said in a panicked voice, blonde tresses sticking to his sweat-beaded forehead. He'd done his fair share of fighting and running during this mission, as had all of them.
At last, Ivan was in the van. Alfred retreated from downing another charging attacker, leaped nimbly onto the bumper and inside.
Another man managed to wedge himself into the door halfway before it could close and aimed his pistol directly at Tino.
"Watch it!" Mathias roared, lunging to shove the man away and defend his friend.
Just before he could pull the trigger, the offending soldier of Morgan's eyes went wide out of nowhere, and he slumped, America kicking him from the doorway and slamming the door behind him.
All eyes were directed to Ivan and Tino, the strange fact that all of the men attempting to pursue them were being taken down by an invisible menace swallowed up by the worry filling the tight space. Tino had dropped unconscious during the action, and Ivan was now mumbling Russian swear words under his breath.
"Hang on, we'll get you patched up at the academy," Yao promised, right at his teammate's side. Even though there wasn't much other choice in means of seating, he'd placed himself there the instant they'd gotten into the van.
Who knew eight months living with the Russian could change Yao's perspective of the towering teen so much?
"Da..." Ivan hissed.
As they flew through the city, Feli breaking every possible speed limit out there, America thought back as he gazed vaguely out the back windows.
What stopped the man who shot Ivan?
Back at the Hetalia Academy.
"We need to take him to the infirmary," Yao said sternly as he helped Ivan from the back of the van. The heavily dressed teen was still spewing curse words under his breath out of pain.
"Both of them." Lukas reminded as he stepped from the van carrying Tino, the Finn's head lolled about, and his arm dangled limply, like the form of a broken doll.
"Right."
As they all hurried toward the infirmary wing, Emil thought he saw a shadow move and snapped his head back just in time to see a flash of red and black squared-off coattails disappear back toward the dorms.
Emil shook his head. He'd think about that another time.
Soon enough, all of them arrived at the infirmary, and the nurses, while astonished at both Tino's breathing body and Ivan's deep bullet wound, set to work instantly.
The Allies and Axis stayed with the injured, and the Nordic's decided that now, of all times, was a good time to go speak to Headmaster Rome.
In Headmaster Rome's office.
"YOU DID WHAT!?"
The pajama-clad Romulus's voice pricked at the four Nordic eardrums.
The Headmaster's nightcap had a fuzzy ball at the end of it, and it swung into his face only to be batted away violently by the astonished Rome.
"C'mon, Headmaster, can you blame us? We found Tino! And he's alive! And Ivan will be fine, that guys as strong as an ox!" Mathias protested.
"Or a yak..." Lukas murmured to Emil, who nearly snorted but managed to keep his composure.
"I suppose..." Rome sighed.
"But you were in Morgan's base and didn't do anything except rescue! I know, in a rescue, the one being rescued is the top priority, but still, you can't just pull that stunt without leaving a calling card."
"Sir...we strongly suggest you pull up a visual on the Morgan Skyscraper."
Berwald's deep voice spoke out for the first time.
Rome raised an eyebrow but complied, tapping at the computer on his desk and revealing on the flat screen above him a live feed from a camera he'd had rigged on a lonely ledge across the street and a few doors down from the Morgan complex.
He studied it. The building was as immaculate as usual, save the mangled gate and the men scrambling away, racing from the scraper as if they ran from death itself.
"I'm not impressed."
He said, looking back to the Nordic's.
"Sve?" Mathias prompted.
Sweden checked his watch.
"Five...four...three...two...one."
All of the explosives that the teams had planted simultaneously went off, blowing gaping holes in the sides of the building, causing rooms the catch fire and shattered glass from the shockwave to rain down.
Rome's eyes widened slightly, and an extreme frown appeared on his face, that of someone who was trying very hard to keep a straight face.
Emil slapped a high five with Mathias smugly, Lukas crossed his arms in a satisfying gesture, and Berwald simply lowered his arm and tilted his head back for a better view of the destruction onscreen.
Rome's mouth had dropped open slightly when the scraper had been crippled.
"You..."
"Planted explosives while we were in there, c'mon, Headmaster, you think we don't pay attention in class?" Mathias teased.
Rome sighed, and then a willy grin spread across his face.
"Alright, boys. Just this once, I'll let you use a get out of jail free card. Your home free, but next time you pull this kind of mission under my nose, actually knock the building down."
The four were celebrating each in their own way all the way down the hall.
Two weeks later.
"You feeling better, big guy?" Emil asked as Ivan walked out of the infirmary with a bound up shoulder after a check-up.
His usual cheerful smile told Emil the answer.
"Da, the bullet is not being hitting anything important. Removed and bandaged up. I do not train for a few weeks, month maybe, and, yay! All better!"
"Great. Sorry again about dragging you out and then you getting shot like that." Emil and the rest of the Nordic's had apologized at least twenty times apiece, but he felt the need to do it again.
"I said it was being fine. I am glad to have been helping a friend. I am also glad that we have all become the friends." Russia then nodded to Emil and walked away.
Emil thought about it, friends with the huge scary Russian whose laugh scared lesser beings into hiding?
Why not?
He walked back toward the Nordic base, stopping by it on his way to the library to grab a book he needed to put back.
He opened the door and was met with a most welcome sight and sound.
The sight of Finland hammering away at his explosive do-dads, looking healthy and, as always, an uplifting smile on his face.
"Hiyaa!"
Was the welcome sound, the unique hello that had always heralded the arrival of the blonde.
Tino waved his wrench at Emil in greeting before returning to work.
"Hey, we're meeting in the mess hall at dinner with the others, right?"
"Ya! I invited Vash too, hope that's ok?" Tino called as Emil retrieved his book from the living room, where Mathias lay snoring on the couch.
"Cool with me." The gray silver-haired boy replied, waving over his shoulder and ignoring the miniature explosion followed by the yelping of an awakened Mathias and burst of Tino's excited laughter as he walked out of the base and headed for the library.
Emil arrived and returned the book, then began browsing in the very back corner of the huge, naturally lighted oasis for any and all literature lovers.
He spotted Vash studying at the back corner desk.
Far away from everyone, keeping his distance, as usual. That gunner's got something wrong with him, I swear, but then who here doesn't?
Emil thought to himself that, with a start, eyes widening with shock for not seeing it sooner, he realized what the last piece of the puzzle had been.
Vash has only opened up to Tino, and Vash is a sniper.
"Hey...Vash?"
The Swiss's head snapped up from his workbook, his blonde bobbed hair swinging up at the sudden reaction, surprise momentarily in his eyes before they morphed to irritated at being disturbed.
"Yes?" He asked testily.
"What were you up to the night of our shenanigans at Morgan Skyscraper?"
The blonde instantly took on a very guilty averted expression.
"Um...studying." He said quickly, eyes darting away for a moment before returning.
Emil raised an eyebrow at him.
Switzerland matched his gaze, "Why do you ask?" He shot back.
Emil shrugged, "Oh, just that we had some unexpected help that night, and I was wondering if you knew who it was. We could have all been captured, and several probably killed, if that person hadn't helped us out."
Switzerland stood and lifted up his book, planning on studying elsewhere.
"Well, I suppose that person must have been a total idiot, sneaking out under his superiors' noses, risking his team waking up and catching him doing something so unlike him. Only to end up snatching his teams' car and risking his neck to climb to a less than secure ledge perch on the adjacent building to the Morgan Skyscraper, just to gun down those men trying to kill his even more idiotic friends. That person is also probably still shocked that he actually did something stupid for people he thinks of as friends. Maybe he's even more shocked than that by the fact that he even has friends!"
He grumbled as he walked by.
Emil sniggered and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he studied the older students retreating red and black coattails, squared off at the ends.
"Thanks, Vash."
Vash turned his head slightly and nodded, just barely, so much that if Emil hadn't been waiting for it, he could have missed it.
The Swiss sniper then turned his back completely on the Icelandic.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
He said and walked away.
In the Mess Hall.
Alfred was teasing Ludwig, Ludwig was ignoring him, Arthur and Francis were two bad words away from a fistfight, Lukas was sitting next to Emil, and neither really paid attention to Mathias's chatter. Tino was talking animatedly to Berwald, Yao was scolding Ivan about trying to train at the gym so soon after his injury, Kiku quietly agreed with his brother, and on the end of the table, Vash was looking increasingly close to shooting something and/or someone as he repeatedly stabbed at the table with his fork, wondering how much force he would have to throw it with the pierce one of his moron friend's clothes.
Finally, Feliciano talked over everyone's voices.
"WHO WANTS PASTA!?"
He passed out all of the plates of food to everyone, yes, they had let Feli order for them, and it was a decision no one was regretting, seeing as Arthur had been the next volunteer.
The Italian was scarfing down his food, and the german of the group was lecturing him about table manners. All around them, the students of the Hetalia Academy were buzzing like bees over the latest topics. Mostly the crazy mission pulled by the Nordic's, Allies, and Axis. Everyone was questioning them, praising them, calling them completely insane, but most of all, everyone was clustering around Tino, asking him about how he was, what it had been like, and if he was doing well. He dodged all questions involving what had gone on during his captivity but was glad to say that he felt just fine and was none the worse for wear.
He still hadn't confided in any of his teammates about whatever it was he'd faced in that lonely cold gray room, but they wouldn't press him about it and knew that he'd tell them what had happened in time. At the moment, Vash decided enough was enough and was threatening Feli with his peace prize yet again. Feli was wailing for help, and Germany looked two seconds away from cracking both of the screaming Europeans over the head. Arthur and Francis were rolling on the floor in a fist, swinging punches at each other and yelling insults.
That was when the speaker crackled to life, and everyone fell silent and still, Arthur clutching at Francis's collar and Francis pulling Arthur's hair.
"Nordic 5, I have a mission for you. Please report to my office!"
Rome's voice announced.
Berwald stood at once, Emil sucked down the last of his spaghetti and followed, Lukas right behind him, and Mathias already exclaiming over what this new adventure would be.
Tino's smile brightened just a bit more as he watched the four of them, in a single row, heading down the hallway, the space between Mathias and Berwald looking empty, just a slight opening, just big enough for him to fill.
The Finn bolted to his feet after saying goodbye to the rest of their friends.
The Axis, Allies, and a certain Swiss Sniper looking fondly after the reunited team, now stronger than ever before.
Tino ran after his teammates, calling out.
"Hey, everyone, wait for me!"