The room is tense, the murmurs just at the right level for you to catch every other word, only if you concentrate hard enough. But it is hard to focus when your eyes are drawn to the man tied to a chair. The person that the countries are talking about sits still a few feet away. That cloth over his eyes does half a job, his eyes patch covering his left eye. He shows no signs of being conscious. No one did explain if he fainted or attacked them, but from the state of France, it seems to be the latter. You focus in on the conversation at the table, watching from a distance.

"--ow long will that--"

"--is dangerou-"

"--ot safe for--"

"--kill--"

"--o."

Your eyes stare holes into the group, you still stuck on the sidelines. You sit with Canada and England, the two giving aid to France. From what the duo have been conversing about, France sprained his ankle, has multiple bruises up his arm and possibly a couple fractured fingers.

"You don't need to worry about this, (F/n)." England places a hand on your thigh, giving you a comforting squish. You look at him, feeling heat pool into your stomach at his unexpected touch, before giving a nervous laugh.

"I'm not worried, just anxious."

"Well, in my dictionaries, the two are one in the same." England cocks a brow at you, before looking at France. "Be a dear and go get France something frozen to put on his hand while Canada splits his fingers, please."

"Yes, of course." You nod, getting up and walking over to the kitchen. You pass the table, giving it a wary glance.

"Yes, but what if he breaks free?" Romano argues, standing firm as he frowns at Germany. "You want to risk Veneziano's life because you think that this dick waffle is too weak to get out of those ropes? News flash, Potatoe Bastard, Russia can stop a tank with his bare hands!"

"He has a point, West." Prussia nods, cringing.

"Da," Russia smiles. "That was the same day my he--"

"Ah, (F/n)!" Spain waves, face breaking into a large smile as he bounces on his toes. "How are you?" You freeze, before giving a bashful smile, rubbing the back of your neck.

"I'm doing fine, and you?" You ask, tilting your head. You feel like you have been caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.

Technically, I have. They didn't want me listening to them, but they never explicitly said that. They just did whatever they could to keep me away. And Spain greeting me is just to point out I'm nearby.

"Good, good. What are you up to?" He approaches, arms swinging by his side. It is quite a contrast to the others overall look.

"I'm getting something cold to bring down France's swelling." You point towards the kitchen, looking over your shoulder.

"I'll help! I know how to do it!" He grins, a hop in his step as he goes over to the freezer. You follow after him, picking up a hand towel from the side for Spain to wrap the cold object in. He pulls out a frozen bag, quickly placing it into the open towel that you hold. He continues to chat, a smile ever present on his face.

I can't take any of this seriously as I know he has a perverse incentive. He's only talking to me because he doesn't want me listening to the meeting.

"Thank you." You nod to him as he follows along, looking at France. He completely blanks England, who sits with a face of unease as he eyes Spain, and Canada just finished up with France's ring finger, wrapping around the last of the medical tape. The blond smiles at you, graciously taking the cold towel from you. You notice that Spain hasn't gone back to the table. Instead, he's staring at France.

Oh my gosh, I'm horrid. I said he has a perverse incentive, but he's actually worried about France. Of course he's worried about France. He doesn't care if I'm listening or not, he doesn't care about me. Ahh, now I feel like an idiot for being so self-centered.

"Thank you very much for giving me the medical kit." Canada musters a smile, but his eyes dart back to France when the Frenchman takes a deep breath. The Frenchman settles again, yet his brow crinkles up, mouth partly open.

"No problem." You intertwine your fingers together, looking down at France. "What sort of person would I be if I didn't help someone in need?"

"You'd be like those bloody knobs." England mutters, scowling as he looks at Russia's counterpart. Spain laughs, eyes squinting at England.

"And you call yourself a gentleman." Spain thins his lips, tilting his head.

"Well, at least I'm doing something, Hispana." Britain retorts, furrowing his brows and giving a smirk.

"Don't call me that." Spain says, eyes darkening.

"Guys, calm down, please." Canada begins to panic, hand out between the two.

"If there wasn't witnesses present, I'd send you back to the dark ages." Britain threatens, looking proud of himself.

"I'd make it like 1741 and kick your ass!"

"Hey!" You shout, scowling. Spain and England jump, looking down at you in shock. You sink back, surprised at yourself and their expressions. They didn't didn't expect you to shout. You swallow, looking away. "Canada was speaking..." Spain and England look at him, who then flushes.

"France is waking up." He points, as the blond shuffles. Frances eyelashes flutter, the blond ends tapping on his cheek before he opens his eyes fully. He shuffles around. "Papa, are you in pain?" Canada asks tentatively.

"My boy, I'm fine." France raises his hand, going to pat Canada's leg before his finger twitches and his face scrunches in pain.

"I, I bandaged your fingers, and your ankle has been compressed." He holds up the cold bag. "(F/n) got this for you."

"(F/n)?" France scrunches up his brow before looking at you, a pleasant smile on his face. "Oh, I didn't see you."

"Well, I'd rather you not." You smile, before seeing Frances confused face. "I mean! Because you should be asleep, so you're eyes are closed. No, not because I didn't want you near me!" You fumble, face going red. You rub your head, hands trying to push the redness away. "Today's not my day for words." France chuckles, it deep and warm.

"How do you manage to do that?" He smiles softly, head tilting. "Thank you for help Canada whilst I was asleep." He shuffles, but his face shifts into discomfort.

"We got you an ice pack, where do you hurt the most?" You say, moving closer to him.

"Why do I need an ice pack when we have Angleterre's heart?" France gives Britain a once over. Englands face begins to glow a soft hue.

"And to think I was worried about you?!" England crossing his arms, scrunching up his face. "But now I regret it. Fall asleep so I don't have to put up with your annoying voice, Frog." France gives a throaty chuckle, shifting himself to sit up. The moment his left-hand touches the blankets, he flinches.

"Papa, don't move!" Canada quickly gets up, adjusting Frances position so he could sit up. "I'll sort everything out for you." He fluffs up the pillows, before lying France back. He then gives him the ice pack, gently putting it on his hand. "This should stop any swelling. I've compressed your ankle to reduce it, but at this point, I'd advise you to not walk on it."

"Ah, human bodies are so fragile, no?" He tilts his head. "I'm so glad I brought my boy up right." They both share a smile as England crosses his arms.

"Well, I did most of the raising." Britain rolls his eyes.

"Just last week you mistook him for Amérique." France chides. "But I can spot my boy from miles away. Look at his glossy hair, (F/n)." France looks at you. "You can tell where he got it from." France shakes his head, letting his hair brush against his shoulder. You smile, humming.

"Do you remember what happened? Before you went unconscious?" You question, sitting down beside him. He stiffens, eyes suddenly icy.

"Oui." His tone is cold, eyes looking at the other three around him. "If I remember correctly, I ran into... the other Russia."

"Ma' boi is up, guys!" America shouts, pointing over to where you are.

"We should go and inform him of what we have decided," China says, already walking over. The group follow, now crowding around France.

"Are you feeling alright, Big Brother France?" Italy asks, his frown drawn into a pout as he grasps the bottom of the bed.

"If I have you worried about me, then I'll be back on my feet in no time, Italy." France gives one of his charming smiles, puffing his chest out.

"This is France, Ita." Spain grins, patting the brunet head. "He's used to being in pain."

"I like whatever my partner is comfortable with." He purrs, a suggestive expression on his face. Prussia laughs as Germany clears his throat, a faint blush rising on his face.

"We have detained Russia's twin." He announces. "Everyone should avoid having any contact with him and all communication should be kept to a minimum. We don't want him getting the upper hand again." He looks back to give said person a stony look.

"I don't think anyone will be shaking his hand anytime soon." England comments.

"It's just a reminder," Germany replies. "We should control all variables in order to determine how his power works."

"I remember when you all found out about it." Russia smiles. "I thought a power like that would be fun, but you were all so against it." You furrow your brow, completely confused.

Power? Like, superpower?

"You have no reason to fear, (F/n)!" America proclaims, holding a fist over his heart. "I, the United States of America, will protect you from the villians!" He gives a boisterous laugh, lunging towards you.

"I'm still... extremely confused." You admit, leaning away from America as he gets into your space.

"That," Romano nods into the direction of the current prisoner, "can read minds." You blink owlishly, mouth opening before closing again.

"Oh." You simply say.

"Do not worry," Japan says. "We don't know how it works, but we won't let him near you. You have no need to worry."

"I'm, I'm not worried." You stutter, waving your hands.

"Just anxious?" England cocks a brow.

"No, not even that." You give an airy laugh. "I'm amazed."

"Kakiye?" Russia tilts his head, a crease forming between his brow.

"You're amazed by it?" China repeats.

"Don't you think that's an invasion of privacy?"

"Well, that's based on the hypothesis that he can control it." You point it, looking skyward. "And looking at this from a scientifical standpoint, it's incredible. How does it even work?"

"What?" Romano snaps. "You want to perform experiments on him?" Romano taps his foot, crossing his arms as his unhappy expression deepens. There is unease, the other countries looking at you. That sentence seemed to have a darker meaning, one which all the countries seemed to have experience first hand. You scowl, defensive.

"Why on Earth would I want to do that?" You ask, crossing your arms. "I meant to perform controlled observations on him." You look away. You can feel your mood spiralling. "I just thought it was cool, and want to understand it."

"We have no time to perform observations on him." Germany raises his voice. "He is our leverage against the counterparts. When we cross paths, we can use that Russia."

"That's also under the hypothesis the others even want him." You mutter, frowning as you look at your feet.

"We will search every room again," China explains to Britain and Canada. "While we are—" your mind can barely process what he is saying, distracted.

China hasn't been in any fights recently, right? But his cheek, on his cheek, is a cut... how did he do that?

Running across china's cheek is a small scratch, barely even there yet it catches your attention. Then his eye. Did he get that while he was out? It was like he had a black eye. One of his eyes is slightly darker too, the skin different shades of yellow and blue. 

Aahhh, I'm going crazy. He can't-he isn't able to have that unless...

Your eyes widen, staring straight at China as he continues to talk. 

"Я приманка."

The room jolts into an entirely new version of panic, the voice setting many on edge. Its deep gravely tone instantly steals your attention, forcing you to look at the man on the chair.

"He's not napping anymore." Russia tilts his head, before approaching the male. "Should I make him go for another one?"

"We need him awake if we are going to question him." England sighs, looking the man over. He narrows his eyes as he crosses his arms.

"Не на вашем грязном языке." The man says indifferently, not making a move to get in a more comfortable position. Russia laughs, smiling.

"My language is not dirty." England scowls, snarky.

"It is a terrible language, I can agree with him on that." France comments from the bed, craning his neck to look at the counterpart.

"Nobody asked for your opinion, Frog." Britain scrunches up his nose. "And I don't think you've realised," England turns back the 2p!Russia and takes long strides towards him, "but you are not in a place to making distasteful remarks about others." America laughs boisterously.

"England is grumpy because everyone thinks his language is bad." He chuckles, a grin on his face.

"You speak English!" England shouts in exasperation.

"I speak 100% awesome American-ian." He fist pumps, appearing proud of himself.

"You mean simplified English." Britain sticks his nose up.

"What did he say?" Italy pulls at Germany's sleeve, looking over at Russia's counterpart.

"I don't know." Germany mutters, face tight.

"England, could you explain?" Japan asks, looking around. Spain and Romano looked just as confused but hid it more.

"He said--" You go to speak, but France reaches out his hand and puts his fingers against your lips, looking panicked and straining.

"You know Russian?" China questions

"У вас есть шлюха?" You furrow your brow at whatever the 2p! said and frown at France, swatting his hand away.

"That was just Italy." Russia looks at his twin, answering his question. "You remember him, he is the squeamish one."

"я не тупой." The double says, moving his head to look over in your direction. The group change stance, hands hovering over weapons. France shakes his head and Britain clicks his tongue.

"What did he say?" Germany asks, a deep frown set on his face as he looks at Russia and his counterpart.

"He said we have..." Britain looks at you, his tongue flicking out and over his lips. "That we have brought a whore." You grin at that, a laugh shaking you. France and Canada survey you, scratching their cheeks.

"But as we just told him, it was Italy talking." France inclines his head at you, eyeing you.

Ah, he wants me to be quiet.

"And what did he say after that?" Japan asks, raising a brow.

"That he is not stupid." Russia grins. Germany sighs, rubbing his forehead.

"We can talk later." France places a hand on yours, whispering under his breath. You quirk your lip, eyebrow furrowed. You slowly slip your hand out.

"Yeah... no." You shake your head, a little chuckle leaving you. "As he said, he isn't stupid." You stand up, moving away from the bed. "I know you want to control the variables, but I'll do the testing when I am the subject."

"You don't know what you're doing." Britain takes brisk steps towards you, placing his hand on the small of your back and steering you towards the end of the room farthest from the double. You huff, but don't make a bold move of throwing his arm off you. You could at least hear him out. "(F/n), you need to stop this, now." He warns lowly, looking between you and the prisoner. You sway from one foot to the other, being quiet. Then you suddenly remember your injury as a hot pain licks up your leg.

"I know, it's just that I don't..." You purse your lips, sighing. "I understand what you are doing is what you think is the best for me, but I just, I dunno, wanna have a say?"

"And you will." He rubs your arm, the stony expression he held earlier washing away as he looks at you in worry. "You just need to be patient and wait until we figure out what is best."

And how long will that take? Am I just meant to not talk now, for the rest of the game?

You can feel yourself getting hotter with frustration, your shoulders fidgeting as you try to stop the negativity consume you.

"I hear what you're saying, so... yeah." You shrug your shoulders, frowning. You can follow orders and submit, you can do that much for people who are feeding you and keeping you safe. "Sorry." He rubs the length of your arm before turning back to everyone, taking a deep breath.

"Вы ответите на вопросы или получите последствия." Engalnd says, stalking towards the man.

"Или что?" 2p!Russia lifts his head, his lips curling. England inclines his head, serious and in power.

"Complying with us is an offer you can't refuse." England takes strategic steps towards him, his English coming out polished and refined. There is a bite, eyes like knives. The man gives a chuckle, rolling his shoulders before he smiles.

"You... have no tell child of others?" 2p!Russia asks, his English rough.

"You mean the counterparts?" England questions, unsure. The man speaking English set him on edge, making his wonder. He could speak Russian, as well as four other people in the room, yet only now has he decided to switch.

Because he wants someone to hear him.

"Why they are here?" He asks.

"Because this is some scheme they have strung together." England crosses his arms. The quicker this idiot said what he wanted to say, the quicker he'd understand what they wanted.

"You could not handle, and you now have enemy."

"Right." England rolls his eyes, huffing. "And that is it? All you've got to say?"

"Maybe he wants to scare us." Russia smiles, clasping his hands together. "But I am bored. China." He begins to whine, looking over to the eldest. "I'm hungry. Make me some food."