Sleep (APH Nordic Fanfic)

Chapter 4

Chapter Status: Edited

Oslo's POV

I woke up to a four AM phone call. The house phone, sitting in the main room. I groggily went to answer the call.

"Is this Mrs. London?" The man on the other end asked.

"This is Oslo, her daughter. I can take a message for you," I replied, trying my best to sound polite.

"Please do," he said, a German accent becoming apparent.

I went to fetch a sticky note and a pen, to begin writing down whatever he had to say. I would have never guessed in a million years what he would say next.

"At approximately three forty eight this morning, we found Mrs. London's Brother, Manchester, dead. He was hanging from a rope fastened to his apartments ceiling fan. We have yet to figure out the cause of death," he stated grimly.

That's when everything began falling apart. My uncle, who was so dear to me, had died. I swallowed hard before I answered the mysterious man.

"Okay, is that all?" I asked.

"Yes, I am so terribly sorry for your loss," he stated, so falsely. Then he hung up. That was how I got the news, and that leads me to now, when i sit up in bed, waiting to break the news to my mother.

Now it's about four thirty, the sun hardly managing to peak it's rays over the horizon. I listen to the wall for the familiar sound of a guitar. My eyes red and puffy, I find the sound, and gravitate towards it. What am I doing?

"Do you feel like telling me what happened?" He asks quietly.

I nod before answering, "My uncle... His name is-was Manchester... He was found dead in his apartment early this morning."

He doesn't say anything, instead he pulls me into his arms, allowing us to sit side-by-side. We sit for what seems like lifetimes, our backs to the door. Suddenly, I hear a creak and see Iceland turn his head.

"Oh, um," the man says. Denmark, obviously. I turn to face him. "What happened, Oslo?" He asks, a look of worry in his eyes. I look down at my hands, neatly folded in my lap and remain silent.

He stands with a conflicted look on his face. Not sure whether to pry for an answer, or to let it be. Iceland looks at me questioningly and I nod in answer.

"Her uncle was found dead early this morning," he states simply. He's so lucky to have brothers. All I have left is my mother. I'm glad to have her, but still.

"Oh my god, Oslo are you okay? We're here for you," he tells me, genuine sympathy and worry in his voice.

"Thank you," I choke, my words beginning to elude me. I still have the sticky note, and I want help giving my mother the news, as I won't be able to do it alone. Denmark ruffles my hair then leaves the room.

"Does your mother know yet?" He asks. Did he read my mind?

"No," I cry.

"I can help you, if you need me," he offers. I nod in response, and we get up to go to my apartment. He holds my hand as we go next door, rubbing his thumb in circles on my palm.

Despite my shakiness, I have him sit at the counter, on one of our stools. He watches me as I prepare a pot of coffee. Soon thereafter, my mother walks into the main room, where we sit in silence. She must notice my shaky state and still puffy eyes.

She stretches out her arms before fully entering the room. She notices Iceland, "Hey Iceland," she yawns. He waves at her shyly. Then she sees me.

"Oslo what happened?!" She asks, rushing towards me. A new wave a sadness due to the reminder of what happened washes over me.

"I-i-it's Manchester," I start, managing words between a new round of sobs.

"What about him?" She asks, rubbing my back. Iceland takes my hand again before I tell her what happened.

"This morning... He-he was found in his apartment..." I trail off, more tears spilling over my eyes.

"What?" She asks soothingly.

"Dead," I finish, placing my head in my hands. They both envelope me in their arms. They both feel so warm compared to me, all I can feel is cold inside. The silence lasts for what seems like eternity.

Iceland's POV

After a while, I decided to leave. So Oslo and Mrs. London could grieve in piece. I just can't believe he died. I want to help Oslo feel better so much, but I think it's best to leave her be for now.

I step into my small home, to see everyone else sitting in the kitchen, discussing something. They don't seem to notice me walk in, so I listen for a moment. At this point I'm confused as I entered the conversation late.

"What's up?" I ask no one in particular. They all turn to me.

"Denmark told us what happened to Oslo, so we want to do something to help her," Norway informs me.

"Nice plan. Any ideas so far?" I look over them all.

"Well, I was thinking we could write her a song or paint her a mural," Finland pipes up, eager to contribute to the conversation.

I nod as they continue to throw ideas at each other. Some of them sound interesting. One they didn't say was we could bake her a cake or something. However, I'm not sure what she likes. I still suggest it.

"Food is a great way to relieve stress," Norway replies.

We finally decide to create a small mural for her. We can ask Russia for photos of Manchester, as he was his employer. It won't be easy though. Russia is scary, and none of us want to go near him. Except Sweden, he said he won't mind.

We spend the rest of the day trying to get photos and things to give to Oslo and her mother. By the end of the day, I find myself elbow deep in glue and various other craft supplies. Not sure where they came from, but it works.