I don't own Hetalia or it's Characters. (A/N at the end)

Chapter Two

The Admirals

The Inside of the prison was dark; the only exceptions were the small barred windows and oil lanterns that hung on every other cell. Despite the normal warm glow they provided, they somehow made the place look darker and more threatening.

The only occupants to the prison were three men. The one in the far left cell was a rugged looking albino. His clothes were looking worse for wear and were made up mostly of dark navy blues and rich reds only out shined by his own blood red eyes. His snowy hair was a messy disarray of sharp spikes poking in all directions and his skin was so pale it was hard to believe he spent any time outside. He was pacing amongst the hay and cobblestone. The second man who, dwelled in the middle, was a surprisingly well-groomed blonde. His hair fell in soft looking waves that sat on his shoulders accompanied by trimmed stubble lined his chin. He sat and stared at his somehow clean nails with bored deep violet eyes, sometimes pulling ahis flashy blue coat. The last man was on the far right cell. He didn't look as rough as he did disheveled, yet it seemed to fit him. His short hair was a chocolate brown and looked rather windblown. Unlike his fellow fair skinned prisoners, his own was of an olive tone and his jade green eyes that gazed off into space from his awkward squat on the hay-covered ground.

"How did we get in this mess?"

The Albino's question was rhetorical since the three of them had been locked up for days, but had never spoken before.

"Kept my men at sea too long. I remember bringing them to a bar at some point, but I took a good blow to the head. So I don't remember much." The brunette sighed and curled into a tighter ball. The blonde gave a sad pout, "Mutiny is quite the bitch, is it not?" This caused the Albino to sigh, "I'll say. Stripped me of my title and left me on some god forsaken dock to rot." He spat at the ground in his frustration. "Name's Gilbert by the way. How did you two wind up down here in the pit?"

"Antonio," The brunette piped up, "I made the drunken mistake of picking a fight with some spikey haired bastard." He suddenly was shaking with an incessant giggling fit. "The names I threw at him, you should have seen his face, it was hilarious!" He held his gut as his laughter began to finally die down, "Too bad he was a solider." He whipped a tear away as the blonde spoke up. "I'm Francis and I attempted to court said spikey haired bastard's beautiful sister." Francis' confession made Antonio absolutely howl with laughter, "I've been called a dim-wit, but even I wouldn't do something as stupid as that!" Gilbert found he couldn't force down the chuckles that shook his own gut either and began snickering at set of raspy "Kesesese's".

"Could you ladies keep it down?" The thundering of heavy feet followed the demand. "Or do I have to make you?"

The trio looked up to see their rather disgruntled looking prison guard.

"No sir, we're shutting up now." Francis called as Gilbert and Antonio attempted to smother the next round of giggles. The guard gave a rough grunt and turned on his heel, shutting the door behind him. The trio waited until another chorus of snores slipped through the wood of the prison's door before speaking to each other in much quieter tones.

"What about you red eyes?" Francis asked, leaning against the bars of his cell, "What got you locked up down here?" Gilbert raised a sharp brow at the nickname, "I got caught as a stowaway when the ship hit this port. Been in here three weeks." Francis paled, "Good goddess, it's a wonder you've survived friend, this is hell on Avalon!" The Albino scoffed, "No, hell on Avalon is watching your crew sail off with your ship because you wanted to follow through on your orders." Francis gave a solemn sigh, "Touché." There was long pause between the three former naval officers. "They just...couldn't take it anymore. We just got to a certain point and they lost it." Francis whispered and Gilbert nodded, "Same here. Saw another straggling island and lost their minds."

"Was is a single island with sand that looked like gold?"

The two looked over to Antonio, who was now standing and holding the bars that separated them. "Yes, how did you-?" Gilbert began, but was cut off, "So you both saw that too?" Francis all but squeaked. They all exchanged glances, which all said that they were all looking for the same thing.

"We'll need some time to plan this out..." Francis rubbed his golden stubble in thought, but Antonio shook his head, "Not inside here, the longer we stay in here the harder it will be to escape."

"Okay, how about this; in the next few weeks we round up some supplies and on the busiest night of the month, we sail off on an unaccompanied ship at the dock." Gilbert suggested and Antonio nodded with his usual smile. "Sounds good to me."

"Great! So, how do we get out of here?"

The awkward silence that followed caused Francis to smack his face in frustration. "I thought you had already figured that out!"

The two began whisper-shouting at each other and Antonio looked up to see a yellow ball of feathers skip through the barred windows and nest amongst silver hair. "Gilbert, what is that on your head?" Gilbert ceased arguing and lifted his hand to his head; his fingers were greeted with softness and he distinctly heard a surprisingly low-pitched peep. A wide grin broke out on his face, "Gilbird! Where have you been friend?" The yellow ball flapped its little wings and landed on Gilbert's shoulder. Francis sighed from within his cadge. "Okay, so now that we know that. How are we going to get out of here?"

"I've got it, what if I send Gilbird to get us a crowbar or something?"

"How is he going to do that?"

"Hey, do not underestimate the awesomeness that is Gilbird!"

Francis rolled his eyes, "It's not a matter of "awesomeness", and it's a matter of weight ratio! Your five ounce bird cannot carry a one pound crowbar!"

"Then could that little bird go get the keys from the guard over there?" Antonio asked pointing to the currently sleeping guard, "Psh, this awesome little guy can do it, right?" The bird gave a low cheep and fluttered through the cell bars.

Within two minutes Gilbird returned and dropped the key ring in front of the bars. Without hesitation Gilbert snatched the keys and quickly stuck multiple iron keys in the lock until finally he heard a click. "I told you, do not underestimate Gilbird's awesomeness."

A/N: I love writing with the BTT, even if this one is shorter, earlier, and a little angstier than in A Really Long Story. However the set up I have now actually makes more sense than what I had before, trust me. Hope you guys are enjoying this rewrite! Also, f.y.i. the "Spiky haired bastard" is The Netherlands and his sister is of course Belgium.

Please drop me a review, those are my favorite!

-Dolly