"What?" The American asked in surprise. "Are you insane?" His voice was a sorta of loud whisper. Matthew didn't look up at his brother and sighed.

"...Maybe I am..." He finally answered, looking back up at his shocked brother. But before he could turn to walk back inside, the American grabbed the other's arm tightly and quickly dragged him out of the building. Outside there was a small personal plane. Ignoring his brothers protests, he threw him in the plane. He got in himself and shut the doors, starting up the plane.

"Alfred stop!" Yelled out the Canadian, but it was too late. Alfred had already got the plane into the air.

Back at the Russian's house, Ivan was sitting in his messy room. His hair was messed up and he simply wore his jeans, boots, and his scarf around his neck. On his chest was deep scars from his past and a rather toned body. His head was hung down and he had a few empty bottles around his, in which were filled with vodka earlier. He suddenly lifted his head and stared at his door, as if someone were right outside it. Slowly, he stood up and gripped the neck of the closest bottle tightly as he went closer to the door. He reached over and gripped the doorknob, then quickly twisted it and swung the door open. To his surprise, nothing was there.

His body shook slightly as he closed the door again. He had been feeling paranoid ever since he brought the Canadian to his house. Every second, he felt as if he were being watched. Not by someone, but something. Each time he just shook it off as if it were nothing, but this time he was scared. He was trembling. He was terrified. He locked his door along with his window, then sat in an empty corner. His eyes were wide and he gripped the neck of the bottle tight, as if it was the only thing that could save his life. As the night went on, the room and area around him grew darker. His eyes grew heavy and slowly shut as he faded to sleep.