House of Wolves [Denmark x Reader]

Chapter 6 Shake It

{England's POV}

    Blink. Open, close. In, out. Blink.
    Where was I...?
    I tried to sit up, but my limbs felt like lead and I flopped back onto the hard metal yet again.
    From my position on the slab, I tried to survey myself and my surroundings as best as I could.
    I was in a holding cell. The walls were a pristine white, and so was the floor. I was laying on a cold, metal cot. There was a metal lamp swinging from the ceiling in the centre of the room.
    Ten fingers. Two arms. My neck and head seemed to be in place. I couldn't feel my chest, but from what I could vaguely see it seemed to be in one piece, despite the bandage wrapped around myself.
    I couldn't see nor feel my legs.
    It took me a few moments, but I managed to sit myself up, heavily leaning against the wall.
    I wheezed, trying to catch my breath and make the lights go away.
    After a few moments, I looked down.
    Five toes.
    Up to my left knee, there was a fake, plastic, prosthetic leg.
    My eyes rolled and head lolled, and the lights took over my vision.

-Possible Trigger Warning-
{Denmark's POV}

    I banged on the door again. "Hey!" I shouted. "Anybody out there? Let me out!" I pummelled my fists on the metal door rhythmically. "Let me out! Hey!"
    After a few more moments of struggling, I flopped to the floor again.
    Time was weird in this cell, but I knew it had been three days. I've been counting.
    I refused to sleep; even though I knew I needed it. I don't know where I am or how I got here, but I didn't want to pass out again.
    It was after the remaining Axis had ran away. They left the bodies behind.
    We, the remaining of my own allies, had started to count our dead and wounded.
    England was left unconscious. Japan maybe had sliced his left leg off up to the knee.
    France had a deep gash in his right shoulder, and was dizzy due to the loss of blood. He said it was dark and cold, although when Norway forced one of his eyes opened, he screamed and refused to say anything.
    America had suffered multiple gun shot wounds, and I watched him as he dug his fingers into the wounds and pulled the bullets out, not even wincing.
    Sweden was paralyzed, a gun shot to the spine. It didn't help that he was also stabbed afterwards. But he'd live.
    Finland was dead. America shot him in the head, the chest, and then the thigh.
    Norway had managed to get his arm broken, but he managed to flip and break his attacker's legs in return. Spain, I think he said. I think Romano came and half dragged half carried him away.
    As for me, I don't remember how, but my skull is fractured, open and bleeding. My hair's all matted now. Iceland said he thought he saw China push me over and bash my head with a rock, but then Belarus drove her dagger through his stomach.
    Iceland and Belarus had managed to escape almost unharmed. Sure, there were a few cuts and scrapes and bruises, but nothing life threatening.
    Northwest Territories had disappeared when the fighting broke out. No one knew where he went or why or when.
    Latvia was shot in the chest and then Russia knocked him against a tree. Whether he was going to survive or not was unclear.
    As for the Axis guys, Estonia is dead. China is dead. Spain's dying. We found someone's hand, and Belarus claims it looks like Austria's.
    I think North Italy is dead. And Poland. I think at the first attack, we killed Greece and Turkey.
    It's confusing, really. But all I know for sure is is that Québec's dead.
    Belarus explained the nation thing to us, so I guess she's not Beckers anymore. Canada as a whole.
    But since she's dead now, does that mean that Northwest Territories is Canada now? Or America, as Northwest Territories was the only province there, and America is closest geographically?
    After it had calmed, we were talking about leaving. But then a mist floated through the air, and I remember America falling to his knees and crying, apologizing to Matthew.
    France did the same, crying about a Joan.
    England muttered something about Elizabeth. Elizabeth, no. Ms. Fairy, stop!
    Sweden was rambling to Finland, who he kept calling Tino. The name Tino was the only thing I could make out from his gibberish.
    Latvia was stumbling and running away from Ivan, and Belarus was screaming, begging for Ivan to stop, leave her alone.
    Norway was curled up on the ground, begging for Emil to come back. Across the small clearing, Iceland was shouting for Lukas to come and help him.
    As for me, all I remember is Québec-Canada? Océane. All I remember is Océane laying beside me in bed, moving my hair out of my face and telling me it's my turn to get him. I could hear him crying from the next room over.
    I remember leaving his room, turning the light off, and returning to bed with her. When I woke up next, I was in a holding cell and began to count.
One, two, three...
    Counting the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days of how long I've been locked up in here for.
    Which was three days, five hours, twenty minutes, and eight seconds. Nine, ten...
    When I first awoke, I was in nothing but knee length white shorts and white ace bandages wrapped around my chest.
    I stood up again, banging on the door again. "Let me out! Someone! Anyone! Help me!"