Moscow: (I'm...I'm so cold...I can...keep doing this...got to hold out...Rome, where are you...?)

Huddled next to each other like sardines, Moscow and Vilnius, despite their relationship, pack themselves together to keep warm.

Moscow: (Cold...whoever heard of a Russian, Russia's capital even, getting cold, near death?)

Her eyes were fluttering open and shut, but there were still some lingering effects of the sedatives that she was very ashamed to admit that were still attacking her efficiently. Suddenly, a small stream of light brushed a warm touch across her face. Vilnius was still sleeping, so all she did was bear the tiniest grin. Moscow slowly tried to stand up, but couldn't move. A blurry figure came over and pulled her away from Vilnius without saying a word.

Moscow: (What about Vilnius? Are you coming back for her? Who are you? Rome couldn't pull me this easily. She would've burst in screaming! Whoa-! Are you carrying me!?)

The figure who was now holding her in a threshold carry was now making small chuckling sounds. As they left the room, a large blast of hot air hits Moscow square in the face, warming up her entire body, but as the door shuts behind them, cold air blows back at Vilnius.

Vilnius: (...that must've been it. Moscow was taken away. She's dead. God took her away.)

That was the first conclusion she came up with when the entire room shook. She guessed that was the town of Moscow, Russia crumbling and falling. Frozen tears pricked her eyes, as in her hazy conscious, drew Moscow's coat to her body more closely to her person, finding faint traces of Moscow's scent.

Vilnius: (I never noticed this before...but she smells like...sunflowers...)

Moscow still couldn't open her eyes. The cold rushed right back to her, more powerful than ever. She could still hear the wind of the blizzard rushing outside and felt like she was right in the middle of it. Involuntarily snuggled up to the person who was carrying her. The person stopped. She heard choppy breathing patterns since she was up against their chest. They resumed walking, but only for a short while sitting down on what she could depict to be a couch, as they set her next to them, wrapping an arm around her.

???: "Big...-er...are...-ck...you...hey...Mos...me..."

She could barely make out his voice, but she could now tell that it was a man. Moscow caught him saying the beginning of her name, so he apparently knew who she was. There was small chuckling coming from him that had a dark tone to it.

???: "Gull...pity...haha...not....you....big...haha..."

Moscow: (...Why does he keep on saying 'big'? Isn't he going to go back to Vilnius? If he knows me, maybe he knows her.)

Moscow: "...V-V...Vil...Vilnius..."

She shuttered which made the man stop short. The grip he had on her tightened immensely 

Moscow: (Please, help Vilnius first before me. She deserves it more. But...this room seems colder than before. Does he have any food...?)

Her stomach grumbles in response which makes the man burst into an incredibly audible laughter. He says something in a joyous tone then walks away in muffled footsteps. She fell down to the couch cushions which actually hurt more than she expected.

Moscow: (No...this is wrong...)

Her face scrunched up in sudden realization. The laugh, the possessiveness, it all seemed so obvious now that it was so painful to take in. And with everything that she's been through today, that was saying something.

Moscow: (That man...it's Minsk...)

Rome had passed out again, which left Russia, Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia with her phone and polished plates. Russia tightened his grip on his pipe and made his way to the front door, leaving the Baltics stock frozen in shock and cold. As he was walking, his fingers shifted over the buttons of the phone and it went to Rome's photo album. Russia's pace slowed down as his eyes glazed over the recently took pictures on her phone.

Russia: (Is that...Germany, Italy, Japan...and who are these women?)

Apparently, Rome was able to sneak a picture of when they were in the living room. Besides the countries, there was Rome herself, Berlin, Tokyo, DC, Ottawa, and...a woman with a shovel in her hands. Of course, the only capital that he can match the name to the face is Rome. But for some reason, as he switches back to the map, she spikes his curiosity. For the expression she had on her face was one that he wore a lot himself. Unacceptance.

Vilnius: (I bet she's in a field of sunflowers. I bet she loved sunflowers from the very beginning. Oh, what am I going to tell Riga and Tallinn? Will I even be alive to tell them? Urgh, I'm so hungry...)

Moscow: (My body...it's starting to shake...I haven't gotten...wait, no, am I sick? Sick!? Now??? Ugh, of all the times I had to catch one! Well, I'm in Siberia and I gave my coat to Vilnius...and I'm in the same house as Minsk...)

The man she was talking about, Minsk, is the only one who truly terrified the heck out of her. He was the capital of Belarus and puts a whole new definition to the word 'yandere'. He would do anything, but usually did a pretty good job in restraining himself. This time he took on a whole new level.

Moscow: (Oh, I see now. He kidnapped Vilnius in the most convenient situation and used her as bait...)

And now she had Rome, who could track her by her phone, which was still in her pocket, out of her coat. It was practically leading her into a death trap too.

Moscow: (What about the backup she's taking? Riga and Tallinn? Her older sister Ramina? Or maybe Madrid or Paris? Berlin and Tokyo? Against Minsk...!? What have I done...?)

At that moment, she wouldn't have minded if she had died right then and there. Curling her fingers up to her neck, she gently eased her gloved fingers over the scars under her scarf. They were pretty deep. She wondered how much damage one had to inflict in order to finish her off.

Minsk: "Big Sister, your hearing should be back now, da?"

Moscow: "Min...Minsk..."

Minsk: "Now, now, don't waste your pretty voice. It's just you and me. I'll take care of you. You're sick, da?"

Moscow: (Because of you! Who knows how sick Vilnius is!?)

Minsk: "Just relax, Big Sister. Let me take care of you."

She had to admit the food she was smelling was delicious but her trained nose picked up something else. Another drug. Something she's never detected before, which scared her that he was even giving her such a thing. She cursed to herself since she couldn't move and Minsk was drawing a spoonful of this stuff to her stubbornly hungry mouth.

*BAM, BAM, BAM!!!*

Moscow/Minsk/Vilnius: "...!!!"

The spoon fell to the floor and the entire house, which was apparently smaller than Moscow had expected, heard the loud, aggressive pounding on the front door. She then figured out this was just a secluded place and not his home. But that wasn't the important thing right now. The important thing...was the firm, but a soothingly dark voice that shot into the air and into her heart.

"Moscow? A friend or 3 are worried about you and Vilnius. I'm here to pick you and her up."

Moscow, with hope flooding her heart, could tell that those words were actually for Minsk. A warning. This new man, perhaps their real savior, knew what was going on and was about to do something about it.