((My first crossover fic, and I'm trying to take everything into account. Pairings (which will develop throughout the story) - GerIta, FrUK, RusAme, possible JapanxCanada. I censor the f-word with an asterisk; don't ask me why. Thanks for reading.))

Taking into account all that had happened, it really wasn't so strange, Germany mused, combing back his hair with one hand. England was prone to creating disturbances in the fabric of reality, and even if these weren't "magic," as he called them, they were quite real, and dangerous.

He ran over everything he knew about basic survival all the same, making lists, categorizing information, highlighting, bolding, italicizing. And then he dismissed it all with a curse and a quick intake of breath. He didn't even know if any of that would work here, and he needed to find everyone else before he could form any kind of plan. He peered around, squinting a bit. Damn, those square trees were awfully distracting.

Alright, he decided, just pick a direction and go. At least you'll be getting somewhere. He turned and began jogging over the slightly spongy ground, passing in and out of patches of shade. A couple of red mushrooms caught his eye, but he ignored that – he'd read somewhere that the red spotted ones were, generally speaking, dangerous.

He stopped when the ground started giving way under his feet, more water than earth by that point. Frowning, he surveyed the greenish pool. Right, well, I'd rather not swim in that stuff, but…

-SPLASH-

He turned immediately to the source of the sound. About ten yards offshore, someone – something, maybe – was struggling to get to the surface of the water, but their progress was blocked by what... appeared to be a water lily. Okay, Germany told himself again, there is absolutely no logic here. Get used to it, Lud. He took off his boots and socks and sludged into the water towards the flailing figure. He soon managed to destroy the lily pad by tearing the round leaf apart – nothing else had any effect. The swimmer broke the surface, gasping and grabbing for the nearest support – which just happened to be Germany.

"WHAT THE—America!?"

"OH MY F*CKING GOD—" America threw himself away from Germany, fell back into the water, sank under, shoved himself up into a standing position, and promptly started coughing violently. Germany looked at America with one raised eyebrow.

"Oh –f*ck- okay, what the -shit- hell is going –damn, sorry- on here?!" America demanded, still coughing.

"I thought you would know, seeing as England the idiot is your brother, not mine," Germany stated bluntly. Gott, finding anyone would be better than America.

"Okay, Mr. Friendly, before we start that, let me at least say thanks-" America walked past him, back towards land "-and get back onshore." Germany begrudgingly followed. "Cool, now start over. You said something about England?"

"Well, he's obviously the one that sent us here!"

"Whatever; I was in the break room. Screw meetings, man, you guys were just arguing about nothing."

"We were debating about vital issues. Thanks for all your help."

"O-kay, lots of emphasis there… look, be mad about it or don't be – I don't have a clue what's going on, and I almost drowned under a lily pad. Now if you think that makes sense, fine, but I don't. England may or may not have sent us here – we won't know until we find him, and we're not really making any f*cking progress on that, now are we?" America grinned, victory flashing in his eyes.

"…You're right," Germany admitted. As much as he couldn't stand the nation, his statement had been the most reasonable thing he had heard since their arrival here, and he could follow reason.

"Yeah, I know. So – look, before sunset, let's just find some kind of shelter, and tomorrow we go rescue everyone else."

"Alright," Germany acquiesced. The sun was exactly at midpoint in the sky – noon. America could see this, too. He nodded. "Okay. Let me show you what I've managed to find out."

He walked over to the nearest tree. And promptly punched it as hard as he could. Germany gaped.

"No, dude," America said, looking over his shoulder, "it doesn't hurt at all. And look." He punched the tree a few more times, and it… broke. A cuboid chunk of tree, smaller than the trunk itself, fell at America's feet. He picked it up. "Now watch." He frowned, seeming to concentrate on the block of wood. And it changed. "Here," America said, handing Germany the new block. He stared at it and he realized that he somehow knew what it was called. "Wooden planks," he said, and America nodded. "Yeah, it sort of… tells you. I've been trying to figure it out. See, I've got dirt, sand, these blobs of clay – actually, that's what I was digging up when I got trapped – and as far as I can tell, as soon as we obtain a block, we somehow know what it is. And… also, you can sort of carry as many of them as you want without actually… it's like they stack or something."

"Okay… Well, we can build a shelter with these, right?" Germany ignored the fact that the 'stacking' basically broke science.

"Yeah. No tools or anything. The blocks just stick together. And one block of tree gives you four planks, so-"

"So it's more efficient to use planks. Got it. We meet back here when we get… forty planks each."

"Awesome."

Ugh. That word. Germany frowned and moved to another tree.

They met up not long after, each with forty planks. They'd made good time, too, and Germany was finally starting to feel he and America had a chance at finding everyone else. At getting out of this mess.

"So I found a pretty good place for a shack," America said, leading the way.

"Oh. I found one spot but it didn't seem very easy to defend."

"Yeah, a lot of weird open spaces. But I think this place's cool."

"Hm."

America was right – it was a good spot. A small hill, rising just a bit higher than the rest of the swamp. Better yet, the ground actually felt solid. Bonus. Germany set down four planks at where the corners should be. America immediately began filling in the walls without challenging his decision, which Germany respected. Now that he thought about it, America really wasn't so bad when he wasn't suggesting impossible solutions to problems (cough- global warming incident -cough).

Germany was experimenting with the planks now, and he quite by accident made what looked like a workbench. His mind said 'crafting table' - he figured that was the item's name. He set it in the corner of the soon-to-be house. America shot him a glance, but did not look up from his work even for a moment. Germany continued his experimentation.

By the time America finished the roof, the sun hung dangerously low in the sky. Germany had made sticks, steps, slabs, fences, ladders, and tools out of wood, and distributed some to America, who nodded his thanks, then walked over to the crafting table. "Lemme try something," he said, laying out planks. Immediately, he made a door. Germany tried not to look too surprised at the feat, but was a bit miffed that he hadn't done it first. "Ah, don't sweat it," America said, "I could have just as easily made a bomb or something."

"A bomb made of planks?" Germany questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Good point. But hey, I am America."

"Hn. Anyway, put the door up and we'll wait it out until morning."

"'Kay."

America set the door in the doorway (surprise surprise, it immediately was set on hinges) and stepped back. Then he frowned.

"Doesn't look right, does it?"

"Try setting it down from outside," Germany suggested. America shrugged.

"Might as well," he stated, punching the door down and replacing it.

"Better," they both said simultaneously. Then Germany grunted as if annoyed and ran a hand through his hair. "Right, so I guess… Gott, I guess I'll take first watch."

"Dude, I couldn't sleep if there was a f*cking cloud to lay on."

"Worried?" Germany asked, half-joking. He knew he was.

"No, man. Just, like, excited. Maybe kinda worried. Um… anxious." America let out an awkward laugh and peered out the tiny windows of the door. The sun was almost below the horizon, and orange tendrils of light gouged holes in the sparse foliage. Almost beautiful.

"Jeez."

"Ja."

It had been… maybe an hour – time, they soon realized, worked in a mysterious way here – and neither Germany nor America had been able to sleep anywhere or knew why. Germany had been punching through dirt blocks for a while when a shout from America jolted him upright.

"What the HELL is THAT!?" America had hollered, and was pointing into the blackness when Germany peered over his shoulder.

He flinched back in horror.

"What…?" he trailed off, unable to find the words to even describe the… whatever it was. It was a person – or rather, it had been, once, perhaps. Half of its face was completely missing, hanging from its skull were burnt strips of flesh, its remaining milky eye caught the moonlight eerily. Its hands were held out in front of it as though feeling for any obstruction in its path, and every so often a cracked moan came from its tattered maw.

"Oh, Gott…" Germany mouthed, observing it more closely. It was pitiful, really – this dead, blind, limping creature. He could hardly stand to look at it before a wash of revulsion nearly knocked him off his feet. America was seemingly transfixed by its captivating atrociousness.

"F-f*ck… d'you think… it can smell us?" America asked.

"Probably not," Germany said, "there's no wind, and… if it's – dead – then most of the cells in its nose will have rotted away by now."

"Does it know we're here?"

"I guess not…"

"Damn." America couldn't stop following the thing with his eyes. Had Germany been as immature as the nation he was standing next to, he would have laughed. But he wasn't that childish.

"Is that another one?" he asked instead, gesturing.

"Oh, shit!" America exclaimed. This one was a skeleton, held together by nothing more than a few scraps of stringy tissue, jaw clacking with each step. It carried a shoddy bow, though it didn't appear to have any arrows.

"Okay. Okay. This is really bad. Like, really bad."

"No, really?" Germany remarked snidely. How are its bones even held together?

America exhaled loudly in mock offense. "Shut up! …Anyway, what are we going to do about these guys?"

"I don't know. I'm sure there are more of them, and we don't have the weapons or resources to take them out."

"So… we just… wait?"

"…Ja."