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Sunder	By : tamasama Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 4271 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia. This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to the lives of any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. I make no profit from the writing of this work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
CHAPTER NINE
"Come on damn it! I said I don't know, what more do you want?" Arthur snapped.
Max patted his briefcase and began to stand. "Then I'm forced to cut business ties with you, Mr. Kirkland."
The blond jolted forward and grabbed Max's forearm. "Don't get ahead of yourself for Christ's sake, just sit down - sit down! - and I'm sure we can figure something out here."
"You've gotta tell me or no deal." Max said, returning to his seat.
"I can't give you that information but I can tell you a few things if I get all of that - for free." He motioned toward the case. There had to be enough to last for a month in there at least. It wasn't like he intended on telling Max the truth about anything and how would the man know? "These people I allegedly know would be dangerous to cross, I'm sure you understand."
"Just tell me where they are and I'll have them taken care of before they even know you talked."
Arthur frowned. "If the police haven't caught them in all of this time what makes you think you can?"
Max laughed jauntily, lightly slapping the table a few times. "Arthur, Arthur, there isn't anyone I can't handle. Don't worry your pretty little counter-culture head about it, man."
The blond's frown deepened. This twat wasn't taking him seriously at all, which wasn't all too surprising since the man seemed to be laid back all the time, but it still irked him. He wanted to tell him to fuck off but he knew that there was no way this man would let it die just like that. In general Max was a nice enough guy, but he was tethered to the Malettas and he would do anything he was ordered to do in any way necessary. Max would - and had in the past from what Arthur heard - taken down people who were known to be close with him so there was absolutely no way Arthur could talk him out of it. Walking away now would put him in a bad spot. He had a (floundering) business to take care of and with the lock-down on the drug trade he would have a hell of a time getting his fixes. If he didn't give Max something, or if he was caught in a lie, he would have a hell of a lot more than withdrawals to worry about.
On the other hand, he couldn't very well just give Alfred and Matthew up. Not only would that make him a snitch - and he loathed snitches - it would practically be as if he pulled the trigger on them himself. Matthew was a vindictive son of a bitch, however passively he went about it, and although Arthur and Alfred had been best friends for as long as they had Alfred practically served as Matthew's attack dog. The last thing he wanted to do was find himself on their bad side.
Aside from the risk of betraying them, he actually liked those assholes and he didn't want to see anything happen to them. Especially Alfred, that poor dumb boy wasn't nearly as messed up as his little brother. With the right presence in his life he could probably come around to a somewhat proper human being.
He couldn't give them up, but he also couldn't offer a bare-faced lie. It was truly a "rock and hard place" situation.
"What do the Malettas want with some serial killers anyway?" He finally asked.
Max was quiet for a moment, deciding how much information Arthur was privy to. A small child began crying within the short lull in conversation and was quickly hushed by it's frazzled-looking mother. "They killed someone that they shouldn't have and this is not the time to fuck with the Family, what with the tension coming at us from the Mensaurs up North. Shit is going down, and it's going down soon. Roderich can't afford to have any weaknesses, and getting your guys picked off by run of the mill criminals is about as weak as it gets."
He drummed his fingertips on the table top. "You don't want to keep quiet and cross Roderich, man. You and I both know that if you don't spill he'll just send me back. You know what me coming back means, Arthur." It was a bit of a stretch of the truth, since Roderich thought he was investigating rival families, but Arthur didn't need to know that.
There was another moment of awkward quiet between them before Arthur folded his hands on the table top and spoke. He didn't meet Max's eye. "I can't help you."
Max nodded slowly, his casual demeanor unfazed. "You know what this means."
Arthur gave a tiny bob of a nod.
"You know I'll come back, and you know what I'll do."
Arthur nodded again.
Max crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the cheaply upholstered seat. "They must have something serious on you if you're going this way." When Arthur didn't reply he just shrugged and pulled himself out of his seat. He grabbed his suitcase and headed toward the door, but stopped just beside the Brit. He placed a hand onto his slim shoulder and leaned down so that he could speak directly into his ear.
"Get your affairs in order." He gave Arthur's shoulder a painful squeeze and then went on his way.
A bead of sweat slid down his temple as he sat there unmoving, staring down at the table's texture. What had he just done? What had he just done, what had he just done, what the fuck had he just done?! He had crossed Max - and what was worse - he had crossed the Malettas. Max was coming back... Everyone knew what that meant, everyone! No one wanted Max to come back. He was going to die... He was seriously going to die! He jerked his head up and looked around himself, his breathing rapidly quickening as panic set in. Wide eyes scanned the restaurant; Max was gone, his car wasn't in the parking lot either.
"What the fuck did I just do?" He whispered hoarsely to himself. He wanted to leave, the noise of the patrons was too loud and chaotic, but he didn't think his legs could hold him up he was shaking so hard. His heart fluttered wildly in his chest. He had three days before Max found him. Three days to figure something out. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,
"FUCK!" He yelled suddenly, startling the people around him. "What the fuck did I just do?!"
A waitress approached him timidly. "A-are you al-"
Arthur jumped up from his seat and stormed toward the exit before she could finish. The second his feet left the building he had a cigarette to his lips. His hands shook harshly as he tried to light it, the lighter sparking again and again until he slammed it down onto the pavement with an enraged yell. He patted his person until he found a spare and finally managed to actually light his cigarette despite his trembling. He started walking in a random direction, not really going anywhere but needing to be on the move while he tried to figure this out.
He needed to run. There was no other way, Max had eyes everywhere and would find him quickly if he stayed in the area. But if he left his clubs were sure to be absorbed into the Maletta's empire. He would be flat broke. He would lose his beautiful penthouse apartment and there was no way he could keep his car. He would need to leave his entire life behind with nothing to his name but the clothes on his back. Even if he did, he would be forced to lay low for the rest of his life because when Roderich had an eye on you he never let you go. Maybe he could leave the country...?
His eyes lit up with a sudden idea. He could go back home overseas! Roderich was a powerful man, but was one little junkie worth the effort it would take to set up an international hit? Probably not. Arthur pulled his cell out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he found his mother's number. He stared at the numbers on the screen and groaned harshly, a long jet of smoke spilling out from between his lips. That woman was the absolute last person he wanted to talk to, but sacrifices needed to be made.
The phone rang for a while and just when Arthur was about to hang up, there was a click and a confused "Hello?"
"Ay mum, it's been a while." He tried to offer up a warm laugh but it came out sounding flat and uncomfortable.
"Arthur?"
"Yeah."
There was a long pause, and finally, "Why the hell are you calling me?"
"Mum, mum, please don't do this right now." He begged.
"'Don't do this?!'" She all but shrieked into the receiver. "You stole from us, Arthur! You broke your father's nose and ran off to who knows where to do who knows what and you're telling me not to get upset?!"
With his phone cradled between his shoulder and head he went about flicking his spent cigarette away and lighting another one. His words came out somewhat muffled past the tube in his mouth. "I know and I'm sorry about that. Oi, oi! Mum! Calm down and just listen to me! Mum please, I'll make up for it. I'll pay you back, you just need to listen to me!"
"Listen to you?! You're an ungrateful child and your father was right to do what he did!"
Red hot rage flashed straight into his chest. "He disowned me, mum! How is that ever right?!"
"Clearly he was right in his choice, seeing as you stole our money and went gallivanting off to the US like some kind of delinquent."
"I only did that because he told me to leave." Arthur growled, clenching his teeth and fighting the urge to cuss his mother out.
"All you had to do was stop your ridiculous... 'lifestyle' and none of this would have ever happened."
Pulling the phone away and holding it out of the way, Arthur let out a loud, enraged yell. He turned sharply around a corner into an alley and put the phone back to his ear. "It isn't a 'lifestyle' god damn it, how many times do I need to tell you?! I'm gay, mum! I'm gay, I'm gay, I'm bloody gay and I can't just stop being this way because you don't like it!"
"So this family line dies with you? You're selfish, Arthur, and you always have been. I should have had another child, that one would have come out right."
His mother's cruel words, along with the intense irritability he was feeling due to a distinct lack of drugs in his system pushed Arthur over the edge. He stopped dead in his tracks, ripped the cigarette from his lips, and yelled, "You fucking skeevy bitch! How... how could you say shit like that to me?! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you fuck you fuck you and fuck the old man! You arrogant tossers think you can just say anything you want to me and I'll just allow it?! You want an heir so badly? Well this is a fine damn way to go about it, isn't it? Kicking me out? Telling me I'm a disappointment? Yeah, that'll sure get a fucking baby out of me!"
He stopped yelling and there was a moment of silence from the other end. Finally, he heard his mother's voice. "Don't ring here again."
"W-wait! Mum, I'm sorry I didn't mean to yell at you, I didn't mean it! Just please... They're going to kill me, mum. They're going to kill me and I need-"
"I mean it, Arthur." Her voice cut through his pleas like a knife. "Don't ring me, or your father, again."
She hung up. Arthur stood there a moment, listening to the silence, before a low pathetic sound slipped from his lips. He all but fell back, his back hitting the brick wall behind him hard enough to cause a dull pain reverberate through his ribs. The phone slipped slowly out of his hand and landed on the dirty ground. He ignored the coarse texture scraping across his back as he slowly slid down the wall, his hands coming up to tangle in his hair.
"Arthur you sodding div..." He muttered to himself.

Boss Albin was dead. A black widow spider had crept into his bed as he slept and made quick work of the frail old man. His funeral was a spectacle to behold, with a veritable sea of black-clothed attendees standing stoically around the casket. They filed by, each pressing a short kiss on the large ruby ring adorning his withered hand before moving on to sit or stand around the area. The only person who was not present was his wayward son and said boy's bodyguard.
Artallo, a tall and powerfully built man with thick brown hair and a large ring, similar to Boss Albin's, excused himself from the small group of people he was speaking to in order to wave another man over to the edge of the funeral area.
"Kevin, where the hell is he?" Artallo demanded in a harsh whisper once the redhead was within earshot.
Kevin pushed his glasses further up on his nose as he spoke in an agitated tone. "We've been looking for him since this morning and we've got no luck."
"Didn't I tell you to put a damn tracker on him?"
"We did, one on his car and another in his phone." Kevin explained. "Well his phone was in his room closet and the car tracker was signaling from the bottom of the estate's pond."
"Tch, that little shit needed to be here." Artallo growled. "Where's his guard?"
"Went with him we think. Always has in the past."
"That son of a-" A loud honking interrupted him. He looked over to the crowd and gaped at what he saw.
A bright red Continental GT V8 S with black-tinted windows was unhurriedly approaching the coffin, forcing the crowd to split apart before it. Unsure muttering filled the air as the slow-moving vehicle came to a stop just before the grave.
Kevin and Artallo didn't need to be able to see through those pitch-black windows to know who was making such a garish entrance. The driver door opened and a man with shoulder-length brown hair and green eyes stepped out. He offered a quiet apology to people as he walked around to the opposite passenger seat and pulled it open. Black heels, bubblegum pink toenails, smooth white legs, the barest flash of black panties, pink pleated skirt, white shirt left unbuttoned to a deep V, long pink deco nails. Medium length blond hair and bright green eyes.
Feliks Łukasiewicz, Boss Albin's sixteen year old son, pulled himself out of the car and into the hot sun with a smug look on his face. "Sorry I'm late!" He yelled out, swinging one hand in a wide arc over his head as a kind of all-encompassing wave. The diamond-set bangles on his wrist clattered loudly against one another. The crowd made a small hum of hushed confusion as Feliks started toward the casket his father lay in. His strides were long and confident, his hips swinging immodestly. His body guard, Toris Laurinaitis, followed his closely. Feliks put one hand on his hip and looked down at the corpse of his father with a frown and said, "About time you old geezer."
He snatched the ring from Albin's hand, spun around to face the crowd and lifted his hand. "Albin is dead!" He declared, pushing the ring onto his middle finger. "My name is Feliks Łukasiewicz, I am ex-Boss Albin's son, and the heir to his position! If you have any complaints I suggest you say them now!"
A wave of energy shook the crowd as people whispered to one another in excitement. Slowly the murmur grew into full blown chaos as people looked to one another to find out what they were supposed to do. Feliks clicked his tongue as a smug smile crossed his face until one man, Albin's right-hand-man Lancaster, pushed his way out from the crowd with an enraged scowl on his lips.
"The new Boss is to be voted in by the counsel!"
Nary a moment after the final word left his mouth, Feliks reached to the holster under his shirt and produced a pink 460XVR Smith and Wesson. He pointed the weapon directly between Lancaster's eyes. "What was that?"
Lancaster swallowed thickly, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing with the movement. "Feliks, you know the Family doesn't work like a monarchy..."
The sound of the gun going off was like a crack of thunder, throwing everyone into a ducking panic. The right side of Lancaster's head all but exploded, sending him sprawling to the grass in a bloody heap. Shrieks rang out from the crowd as the people clamored over themselves to get away. Feliks pointed the gun up in the air and fired again, effectively stopping everyone in their tracks.
"I've got men set up all around the parameter! If anyone tries to get out of here without my say-so they've been instructed to shoot on sight!" He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. "Now, does anyone else want to complain?"
Countless pairs of wide, fearful eyes darted back and forth amongst one another as the people waited with bated breath to know who, if anyone, had anything to say. The muttering and shuffling settled down after a few tense minutes and Feliks took this as a good sign.
"That's what I freakin' thought! Artallo, Kevin," He turned to address the shocked pair. "Throw Lancaster in the hole with my old man and, like, get this boring show on the road already." The men nodded and immediately hurried over to Lancaster's corpse and began to pick him up. Feliks nodded in approval and started back to his car with Toris at his heels. As he was sliding into his seat he turned his attention to the crowd.
"You guys can go." The door shut and the car started to back out.
Feliks toyed with his bracelets as they drove out of the cemetery. Only once they were on the road did the boy let loose. He threw his arms around the front passenger seat's headrest and let out a loud yell. He turned to his guard, his eyes shining with tears. "Oh my god Toris, I was, like, so freakin' scared back there I thought I was gonna die!"
"You did great, Feliks." Toris said, looking into the rearview mirror and smiling.
The blond groaned and flopped back into the back seat, slumped down on the seat to the point that he was almost lying down. He ran his manicured fingers through his hair. "I don't know how I got through it without freaking out! It was totally, like, the worst thing!"
He stayed there for a moment before he lifted his hand out in front of himself, admiring the beautiful ring that market the current Boss of the Mensaur family. "Was I scary?"
"Even I was afraid." Toris said.
"You're just sayin' that." Feliks pouted.
The brunette shook his head, his eyes flicking to look back at his ward every now and then. "I mean it, sir. You were tough back there. I was worried you would hesitate on Lancaster but you did it without a second thought. I'm proud of you."
"Ugh Toris, you know I hate it when you call me that."
He chuckled. "I'm sorry, Feliks."
The boy stayed where he was, his smile growing as he watched the stone glimmer on his finger. "That's Boss Feliks now."
"I'm sorry, Boss Feliks."
Feliks stuck his tongue out. "You don't need to call me that if there's no one around."

A/N
I do not own: Axis powers: Hetalia, Bentley motors, and Smith and Wesson guns.
SO THIS TOOK FOREVER TO GET OUT AS PER USUAL WITH ME. Funny story, actually. I managed to finish writing up chapter nine when it occurred to me that I forgot to put all of this information into it! I skipped this and actually wrote ten in it's place for some idiot reason! So I had to move that one down and do this one from scratch! Pretty messed up, right?
I've been waiting so long to bring Poland into this you don't understand =w=
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Sunder