Where Thou Art, That Is Home (Hetalia Fanfic)

Chapter 92~!

"Tael," I said breathlessly as I hurried over to the boy and took his hand in my only free one. Milo was still in my arms, after all, and I had to keep a hold on him.  

"Tael, I thought they killed you," I told him fearfully. "Are you okay?" 

I think I saw him shake his head; it was hard to see his body at all when it was shrouded in inky shadow. "N-Not... really." 

"Let me see," I said, snapping my fingers and focusing on summoning a ball of white light that would hover wherever I told it to. Of course, I forgot all about the magic inhibitor still clamped around my wrist, and I stiffened as it sent a bolt of painful electricity up my arm. I couldn't hold back the cry of pain in my throat, and a hand touched my shoulder worriedly.  

It was America. "What is it?" Alfred asked quickly.  

"The bracelet," I answered, swallowing as I held up my arm for him to see. But enough about me. "We need a light. Somebody?" 

The fire dude scampered over and used his body to illuminate the darkened corner. What I saw in the flickering of the flames made me want to yell and punch through walls.  

The bloody scales in Lacey's palm were explained in stark reality. He had been beaten, punished by who knows what kind of implements. The scaly skin of his chest was raw, perhaps he'd been whipped. Breathing had to be agonizing for him. The rest of his body was in a similar state. Each ankle had a shackle to keep him where he was, in the dark, with the comfort of light just barely within reach.  

My teeth started to hurt. Wait, I was clenching them. I didn't even realize it. "I'll kill them all," I growled, quickly breaking one shackle and then the other while trying to be cautious of Tael's skin. "Every last one of them."  

There were tears in Tael's bright teal eyes. Tears of relief? "Alice..." 

"Yes?" I prompted gently, holding out a hand for him to take. He grasped it with bloody, shaking fingers that could barely grip.  

"You... gotta run," he managed to say with some semblance of urgency.  

"Without you?" I guessed. "Not in a million years." 

~~ 

Tatiana looked worriedly at her father sitting on the couch. His eyes were closed, his glasses perched on his nose. The fingers of both hands were laced together, his index fingers touching his lips as his elbows rested on his knees.  

He hadn't done much since Mommy had left to find Milo.  

And now Tatiana was torn: should she go over to him and ask him to play, or just amuse herself by herself? She'd gotten tired of playing with her multitude of cousins, and Evan had laid himself down for a nap. He was very good about sleeping when he wanted to sleep.  

"Daddy?" Tatiana said hopefully as she prodded his knee with a small five-year-old hand.  

Her father opened his eyes and he looked down at her. "Yes, sweetie?"  

"I'm kinda hungry," she said. "Can we have a snack now?" 

"Uh, sure," Matthew replied monotonously as he stood and moved rather robotically to the mini bar at the end of the room. There were a few small bags of chips in the cupboard he looked in, so he grabbed the first flavor he saw and handed it down to her.  

Tiana frowned when she accepted the snack. "I don't like this flavor, Daddy." 

But he didn't hear her, or didn't listen.  

Rain pounded steadily against every window.  

"How're ye holdin' up?" Scotland asked once more.