A/N: Thanks to SnapDragon21's hopefully poking (to which I initially thought I was going to reply with "I'm so sorry I'm a horrible person but I don't think I can continue writing this"), another chapter has been written! I am sorry it's so short (only ~950 words), but well, something is better than nothing right? And where it cuts off it has some nice circularity.
I guess I'm just such an expert at procrastination that it drives me to productivity.
Worry and Confusion
The European Union. One of the world's three great superpowers, along with the Holy Britannian Empire and the Chinese Federation. Britannia had recently declared war against the Union – after all, all unclaimed territory save for Alaska had already been either bought or conquered, and Britannia had an unquenchable first for land.
"Discover the source of the injury," he barked orders quickly, "and make sure he doesn't die. Don't let anybody else know he's here."
He snapped the phone shut, a clean click sounding from the motion.
"Why would someone from the European Union be here?" Nunnally asked. Lelouch was almost startled by her presence, and felt guilty, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Do they know about us?"
There was fear in her voice. Lelouch struggled to recall the smile that had been resting on his face so easily only minutes before.
"No, I'm sure it's something else," he said softly, reassuringly. "Come on, let's head back to the clubhouse."
As he pushed Nunnally's wheelchair back along the route they had walked so peacefully on earlier, he kept his strides short and even, no matter how much his racing heart urged him to run their as fast as his weak body could.
He couldn't worry Nunnally, after all.
• • •
I jerked awake. Vlad. He was behind this. He had to be. That fruit loop –
My thoughts drew to a pause when I realized what I was sitting on a table, its frame solid and staunch. When I swung my legs over to its side, they easily touched the floor. I winced as a grating pain, like sandpaper rubbed together, blossomed from my side. I clutched at it, hoping it would have been healed; already, it felt slightly less like a living hell.
I moved to stand up.
I froze. It was the maid. I craned his neck to look at her, and saw that she held knives in her hand.
My mouth dropped open.
"Uhh…" I said intelligibly. "Please don't kill me?"
Oh, wait. That was English.
"Por favor…" Please… It had to be enough, considering his limited Spanish.
The maid frowned. She didn't take away her knives. She didn't move closer. She didn't do much of anything except frown, in fact.
So I basically just sat there for a while, locked into a staring contest with someone who could be potentially insane, an awesome ninja maid, or a ghost disguised as a human who couldn't speak English for some reason.
The first one, admittedly, was the most plausible among the options, but luckily, it wasn't the only possible theory. After all, in my life, practically anything was possible.
I wish I just knew what was going on, I glumly thought to himself.
The door opened. The maid twitched, eyes darting from him to the mahogany wood. She relaxed when she saw who had entered.
It was a tall, lanky boy. Pale, very pale. Black hair, purple eyes.
The boy smiled menacingly at me.
"European Union?" he said, and his voice was accented strangely.
I was so confused.
"European Union?" I repeated blankly.
He said some gibberish back. I shook my head.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're saying."
The boy considered him, frowning. He looked to the maid and barked out a question. She answered, her own words concise and almost clipped.
I looked nervously between them. If worst came to worst, I could always phase out of the building, but that was mean exposing my secret. Exposing my secret would be bad, very bad. I had no idea where I was, or what was going on, and even the possibility of the news getting home was enough to stop me from considering it. My parents would –
A sharp lance of pain shot through my head.
My parents would what?
I shook my head, suddenly feeling groggy and nauseous.
I remembered flashes of green and red. Red that wasn't mine, red of those that should never have to experience that danger. Green of the same kind. Dead on both sides. And… There was something else. Something I couldn't remember.
A very, very bad feeling began to grow in the pit of my stomach.
I need to get back home. At this point, it was possible that I didn't even have a secret identity anymore.
I wished that I knew what had happened.
I wish I knew how to get home.
Voices intruded into my thoughts, again strange and foreign. I lifted my head (when had I looked away from them?) and saw them both staring at me. They looked almost concerned.
"Do you…" My throat was dry, voice raspy. I licked my lips in an effort to make speaking easier. "Do you know where Amity – where America is?"
The language problem was becoming a disaster. There was no response; both were keeping their faces carefully blank.
I needed, needed to know how to get home.
So I tried again.
"¿Sabes… dónde America… es?"
There was a visible reaction from the boy – he flinched. The maid's face remained almost impassive. She turned to the boy, said a string of words. He replied back, his body language now as still as stone, without taking his eyes off me.
"No," she replied back after what seemed like an eternity. "¿Qué es 'America'?"
I knew enough Spanish to translate.
"What is 'America'?"
One thing was sure –
(among the midst of the ruins of confusion and nausea and worry)
I wasn't in Kansas anymore.
• • •
Lelouch decided that maybe the situation wasn't so bad as he had thought it was.