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They were lucky, above all else, that England could teleport. Otherwise they'd either be walking or driving back to the location, and none of them wanted to do that.

Russia disappeared into the halls, carrying a girl that strangely resembled him, the beast among them disappearing as well, with Zaltana's prone form spread along the creature's thin spine.

Coahoma and Conner spoke works in languages long-lost to time, their expressions showing only that they were either angry or uncomfortable, or both at the same time. A sigh, and Conner rolled his eyes. A quip in return, and Coahoma hissed. That was all they had to base on for their conversation. Nothing good it could be.

"All we have gotten are either sick or injured," France whispered to England, and the other rolled his eyes, "and now that demon's hurt. They really can't expect us to stay here forever to help them with this."

He motioned vaguely around him, and England snickered.

"Norway is interested in them," he waved a hand, "he believes we'll get something in return."

"Think it'll be green?"

"I think we'll be paid in knowledge," England sighed, "that seems to be our only payment."

"Well," France let out a noise of exasperation, "I don't need any knowledge. Not from the likes of these people, at least. Imagine, what is there to learn? Even you, Arthur, know much more than these people could. We are Europeans, the epitome of knowledge. So why do you stay?"

England opened his mouth, before closing it, and shaking his head, "Don't call me by my human name."

"Really, what is it that draws you here?"

"Finally pay America back,"

"For what? The goddamn revolution? He doesn't care about that anymore, or at least I don't think. He's a petty brat if he does."

"Not that."

"You owe him money?" France laughed, his head going back. The sound echoed off the hallways, and both of the nations cringed. They were walking away so that nobody would hear them.

"No," England paused, "he is blaming me for something, and I never understood what it was. I think this might be my path to his trust."

"To his bed, you mean?" France purred, before giggling, "Russia might cut your head off."

"Russia doesn't care for him anymore," England crossed his arms over his chest.

"Ah, so you admit you just want to fuck the boy," France smirked, and England glared at him, a blush on his face, "or, knowing you, want to get fucked by him."

"You don't know me!" he exclaimed, and France grabbed him by his shoulders, pushing him up against the wall. He pressed a steady hand against the smaller chest.

"I don't?" France giggled, leaning against his body, pressing his lips against his ear.

Russia sat on the bedside. He was surprised he remembered where Alaska's room, yet after he started walking it got less blurry. Past the first two hallways onto the third and six doors down to the left. It was a dark, windowless room, with the only difference to the other rooms being it had immediate access to the ventilation system.

Her room was untouched, covered in a layer of dust and wolf fur. He wasn't sure if that was just how it had been left or if it was because of the time spent absent of it.

Now, at that moment, he wished that Juneau had been found alongside her. The wolf was her companion, and being without her would be difficult on the girl. Especially after the torment she had gone through.

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