House of Wolves [Denmark x Reader]

Chapter 4 Little Talks

{Your POV}

You were starting to get worried. It had been almost two weeks since you had arrived at the small cabin.
Italy made sure you were all well fed, but you were starting to get tired of pasta.
Germany made sure you all stayed in shape, but you were never in the mood for running laps.
Austria made sure the air was never quiet, but you were about ready to raise Bach from the grave just to punch him in the gut.
Romano made sure you always had a bump on your head, and Hungary made sure he had one on his.
Russia made sure you all feared your lives at one point or another, and China made sure he didn't actually commit murder, although you were ready to murder all of them.
Latvia kept you entertained with games of Concentration and Chinese Chopsticks, even Rock, Paper, Scissors at times.
Estonia made sure there was a stable wi-fi connection, and Lithuania and Poland made sure everyone had a suitable wardrobe.
Japan made sure the cabin was always clean and Belarus made sure everyone had suitable weapons.
But most importantly, Northwest Territories was there. He made sure that you were never really alone.
    But despite his being there, you still worried.
Denmark and England were supposed to contact you once they had located you and were on their way back with the others to bring you back.
But it had been almost two weeks, and no word whatsoever.
That night, you had weird dreams.

You were standing at the bay of an ocean, the clear blue waves lapping up and licking your ankles and spraying your shins.
You spread your arms wide, your eyes closed peacefully.
You listened to the sounds around you, the splash of the waves crashing, the waves white-capping. The birds yelling and chirping at each other.
Then, in the horizon, a wave formed, growing larger and larger in size as it grew closer and closer to you.
A strong force hit you, the wave washing over you and knocking you over.
The wave receded back into the depths of the blue sea, pulling you along with it.
You were dragged by the wave into the bottom of the ocean, thrashing and twisting around, struggling for air and the sweet sea air on the surface above.
Eventually, you gave up on swimming to the top, breaching. You settled for letting the tides and the waves and the currents carry you as you sunk more and more, deeper and deeper.
It got darker and darker.
A small ray of sunlight broke the water's surface, shining down into the water's depths. It was small, a small glimmer of light and hope.
Yet you reached out for it, extending your hand and arm, longing to touch it. You thrashed again, kicking your legs, trying to propel yourself towards the sunlight.
But the more you kicked, the more you sunk, and your bare back eventually lightly grazed the sandy, rocky ocean bottom. Your legs and arms and head were soon to follow, until your entire body was resting gently and peacefully on the bottom of the sea.
You moved your arm through the water again, extending it back out to the sun's rays, wanting to see the surface and breathe again. But you grew tired, and exhausted. You let your arm float through the water, slowly sinking down to your side and laying at the bottom of the ocean alongside you.
Your eyelids grew heavy, and despite the fight you put up to keep them open and alive, you let them gradually close shut, the blue ocean becoming an endless black void.
The ocean sounds faded, faded, faded...

{Denmark's POV}

    "Jesus, Norge." I said, slamming my fist on the table, causing the laptop to jump.
    "Denmark, look, there's nothing I can do just now." Norway said, steadying the laptop.
    England and I had arrived back at Cambodia's a few weeks ago.
    We had planned to follow Québec, but we were ambushed by Japan and Romano.
    We fled to America, where we managed to find a stable enough phone connection for a gravelly phone call to France, who sent Sweden to come pick us up.
    After that, we (and by we I mean Sweden and England) determined that going back would be too dangerous for now, that we should just go back to Cambodia. I, personally, liked Finland's place much better.
    So now I'm here, at Cam's, waiting for Norway, Iceland, and Sweden to hack Estonia's system.
Turns out that takes longer then I thought.
"But she's in danger, Nor." I said. "Hurry up."
Norway sighed. "For the last time Denmark, I can't."
I groaned and stood up off of the bed I was sitting on and stretched. "It's been over a month, Norway." A month and five days, to be exact. Not that I was counting or anything.
"And I'm sure Bec is fine. Look, I'm just as worried as you are, but there's nothing I can do right now." Norway said, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms.
I didn't understand computers, so Norway didn't even bother with telling me why he couldn't. I just accepted that he couldn't.
Ever since Québeckers left, America had been even more distant. He didn't talk much, and started to hate his glasses. He started wearing contacts, but the only contacts that worked were red ones, so it looked like he was high all the time. Or like he was gonna shoot lasers out of his eyes. I didn't know which one I found funnier. A high America who can't even legally drink alcohol in his country or laser eyes.
    I never understood drinking ages. In Denmark you can get a little card and boom! You can drink. Like, an adult can by a drink for a child and no one cares.
    Anyways, I'm getting off topic. That happens a lot.
    I wonder if it's the alcohol...
America also kept his hair dark, and stopped eating meat unless he was positive it was organic.
    In my opinion I say eat the pig! Bacon for everyone!
He had also ditched the guns and bombs for a wooden bat with nails in it, and he made us all call him Allen as a human name.
England was starting to lose his marbles over America. He was worried enough with Québec as it is, and America going all anti on us was not helping.
    "Faen." Norway said, slamming the laptop.
    I was about to ask what was wrong when America came in and did the asking for me.
    Norway sighed and used his computer language to answer. Unfortunately, I'm not fluent in computer. Danish, however, I'm your guy.
    "Lemme see." America, stooping over to see the laptop. He clicked a few buttons. "There."
    Norway jumped in his chair. "Jesus jævla Kristus!" He said. "How'd you do that?"
    America switched over the Language of the Tech, so I tuned him out and started to hum Soldiers of Love.
    I was bored.
    And lonely.
    Right as I was actually about to start singing, Iceland walked in.
    "Norge." He said, handing him his own laptop. "Look."
    Norway rolled his eyes. "I have eyes, idiot." He sighed, re-adjusted himself in his chair, and took Icey's laptop. He then looked from Icey's to his own, then typed in something, looking back and forth every once and awhile.
    Nor handed Ice his laptop back. "We should be in soon, after this finishes loading."
    I stood up and bent over the table, looking at the screen upside down. There was a green bar that was slowly filling up.
    "Hvilket?" I asked.
Norway shoved my head up away from the screen. "Yes, Denmark. That one."
    I smiled. "When's it gonna be full? When it's full what does that mean? Why is green? Is it gonna turn into the Hulk?"
    Norway sighed. "I don't know, a few minutes? And it means we've hacked into the server- and yes, that's a good thing. I don't know why it's green, it's just want the author picked. And no, it's not turning into the Hulk."
    It was America's turn to sigh. "Tragic." He said, walking away.
    "It's almost full." Iceland said, pointing. I leaned back over to look, and I saw that it was about 3 quarters full before Norway knocked my head away.
    I was disappointed it wasn't going to turn into the Hulk. I love the Hulk. Although Thor and Loki are a million kajillion times better.
    I started humming Soldiers of Love again, but Iceland told me to shut up. I was gonna sing der er et yndigt land, but then Norway said it was full and that if I leant over again he'd slap the freckles right off my face. But I don't have any freckles.
    I think.
    "What's it doing?" I asked.
    "Stuff." Norway said.
    "What stuff?"
    "Just stuff."
    "But what stuff?"
    "Ha! Take that, Estonia!" Norway yelled, standing up, jabbing a finger at the screen.
    "Can I see now?" I asked, while Iceland furiously scribbled on a piece of paper. Norgey nodded and turned the laptop around.
    Displayed on the screen was a map. It was a map of the world, but it was zoomed in on Canada. There were lines dividing the land up, which I knew were the provinces because I sat through a lesson where Bec was teaching it to PEI.
    I can't name them all yet. I know where Quebec is (that's a given), Prince Edward Island (it's the small island thing), Ontario (it's the one that looks like a whale that's about to do the do with some America states I can't name), and that's about it.
    There was a red dot in the high north, the Puffin Islands I think they're called. I could be wrong.
    "The dot is Québec." Norway said, pointing. I smiled as my heart leapt out of my chest. Finally, I could see her again.
    "She's in the Baffin Islands, so we'll have to travel out there, which will take...however long it took you to get out there in the first place." Norway continued.
    I made a mental note that it was Puffin, not Baffin. Or is it the other way around?
I shrugged at Norway's comment. "I don't remember."
"That's a great, help. Thanks, Denmark."
"You're welcome!" I smiled.
"Cut it out, you two." Iceland snapped. "The point is, we found her. We can get out if this hell hole now."
"I heard that!" Cambodia yelled, stomping into the room. She grabbed Iceland's ear. "You're lucky to be here in the first place!" She dragged him out of the room, Iceland thrashing and trying to pry Cambodia's fingers away from his ears.
    Since we first got here, Iceland and Cambodia haven't gotten along. Like, at all. Poor Icey. At least it's not me!
    "So when do we leave?" I asked.
    Norway shrugged. "Soon, I hope."