A.N.: Hey everyone. It's Kai, here to give you the fantastic Part One Prequel to serenity turmoil and my Hetalia One Shot: "I Need You More Than You Need You". To all of our fabulous readers and reviewers, thanks so much for your support! It means a lot! ^^

Let me being by saying, I moved to Chicago for me. Got that? There were no ulterior motives. I wanted to go to school in the city. I wanted to get out there, right where the action was. There are dozens of schools in Chicago. How was I supposed to know that he lived there too? Obviously, fate has a very sick sense of humor, and thought it would be funny for us to bump into each other after not speaking for three years.

What are you supposed to say when that happens? "Oh hey, Arthur! Sorry for calling you a selfish fuck before cutting off all contact with you even though you and Francis basically raised me and Matthieu for five years. Wanna go out for burgers?" No. You don't. You exchange awkward glances, mumble a hello, and walk away. Thenyou spend the first month of classes making sure you don't bump into them again.

It sucked! It was like someone just pulled the fucking carpet out from under my freshman year. Nothing could have made the experience worse… except for, you know, the whole viral outbreak that turned over half the city into mindless, flesh-eating zombies. That one, more or less, took the cake.

It really doesn't do a lot of good saying, "Hey, I'm a rookie cop!" when the bad guys are trying to rip your eyeballs out of your face so that they can eat 'em. Then again, I don't think that would be too effective with a normal bad guy, but I feel like it would be less effective on a zombie. There I was, trying to be a hero, and all I could do was sit up in the tiny room I shared with Matthieu, packing up all the shit I could carry on my back, wondering if I could even manage to save myself.

"You should get away from the window, ya know…" Matt called quietly from the kitchen, the sounds from the cans he was stuffing into his backpack nearly drowning him out. I don't know how the little twerp knew I was standing at the window, and I knew it probably wasn't a good idea to stand where I could be seen, but watching the few stray zombies that still roamed the street was like watching a car crash… No matter how much it hurt to look at, I couldn't look away.

The city was being evacuated. Most of the students had already left campus, but Matt and I stayed behind, hoping not to get caught up in the crowd. There were a few others that had the same plan… but they were more patient than me. I couldn't just stand still any more. It was making me crazy.

"Why are you packing so much?" I called as I zipped up my half packed duffle. "Once we get out of the city we'll be fine. The police are keeping it contained."

Matt walked out of the kitchen and stared at me, almost rolling his eyes. "You never think things through… do you? What if this is happening other places too? It's bad enough that you're moving us before we have a plan, or people to help us, but-"

But I wasn't listening to him any more. It was always the same bullshit with Matthieu. "You don't use your head." "Slow down, you're going to kill yourself" "Blah blah blah." The fact of the matter was that I was as ready as I was ever going to be, and sitting around 'planning' wasn't going to get us anywhere.

I swung my bag over my shoulder and headed towards the door, ignoring Matt as he continued to ramble about whatever he was rambling about. The only thing I had to carry besides a few changes of clothes and some food was a heavy, aluminum baseball bat, and a pistol I managed to swipe when the infection started. I was ready to go out, bust some heads, and get the fuck out of the city… but that train of thought was instantly derailed as I heard Matthieu for the first time since he started complaining.

"If we could just stop at Arthur and Francis's for some back up, or at least to make sure they're okay! I'm worried, and I know you must be t-" but he stopped as our eyes met and I gave him a look that visibly shaved years off of his life.

"I really don't give a fuck what's happened to 'em, to tell you the truth," I growled, lying through my teeth… or half lying I suppose. I mean, it's not like I was trying to be some kind of heartless asshole… I wasn't… worried, exactly… but it was something like being worried. I just didn't want to get involved with them, which, if they were still alive, was unavoidable…

And if they weren't still alive… No matter how mad I was, or how long I managed to hold a grudge against them… I just didn't want to think about it.

Matt dropped his head, staring at the floor, dejection hanging over him like a cloud. I rolled my eyes, trying my very hardest to ignore the tangible gloom that filled the room. Arthur may have been a dick, but he and Francis had been better parents to us than our so-called parents had been. They were kids, just like us, but they were there when we needed them, and we were both very grateful to them for it.

Of course, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I owed them. They had gotten me out of some deep shit when I was a kid. Arthur helped me with school, Francis made sure Matt didn't get his ass kicked when I wasn't around to take care of him. They were always there to back us up… until they ditched us because they had better things to do… or at least, that's what I thought when I was younger… so I told Arthur that going to college was stupid if it meant he'd have to leave us, and when he wouldn't change his mind, I told him that if he left, me and Matt must not have meant anything to him… and if we didn't mean anything to him, he didn't mean anything to me.

I told him I didn't care what he did…

I told him to fuck off and die…

I told him that I didn't need him anyway… that I hated him.

I suddenly found it hard to look at Matt, his cloud of angst expanding and hanging over me too. I hated how Matt's bad mood was contagious. He always had to go and make me think about shit. It was like his secret weapon.

"But… if you're really worried," I said halfheartedly, caving like a pussy, "we can stop by… but just for a minute. Then we get the fuck out of here."

It always felt like Francis and Arthur lived annoyingly close to us. Go figure the day I actually needed to visit them there were zombies in between us. Not that there was a lot of them or anything… The police and citizens had done a pretty good job with crowd control, and most people appeared to have evacuated safely. It wasn't like in the movies where there were just hordes of zombies roaming around. Actually, most of the adrenaline that pushed me and Matt through the roads came from the anticipation of running into one of the few undead on the street, rather than from actually seeing them.

Matt kept a few steps behind me the whole time, causing me to glance back every few seconds to make sure he was still there. I hated being skittish… it made me feel like I was vulnerable, but I couldn't help it. We only spotted a few zombies from our dorm to Francis and Arthur's, and none of them gave chase, so I didn't bother wasting ammo that I may need later.

The trip must have only taken a few minutes, but it felt like hours, creeping around campus, trying to stay unnoticed. Of course, the minute we got to their dorm I realized I had no idea what room, or even what floor they were on. Francis had invited us over once, hoping to break some tension between Arthur and me, but I instantly forgot their address. I only remembered the building because I made a mental not to avoid it at all costs.

"17-A…" said a tiny voice, as if it was reading my mind. I turned, a little shocked, to see Matt staring at the floor, blushing as though he had just done something horrible. I guess it didn't surprise me that he'd be embarrassed to tell me he remembered their dorm number. He knew the though of coming here pissed me off, so he just kept his mouth shut, avoiding a place he really wanted to visit because he knew it would upset me. I didn't know which I found more annoying; the fact that Matt wanted to visit them, or the fact that him not visiting them made me feel like a bad guy. I huffed and looked back to the dorm building in front of me, prepping myself for an unavoidably unpleasant visit.

The building felt a lot taller than it looked as we climbed up seventeen flights of stairs. I hadn't realized how out of shape my freshman fifteen had made me, and Matthieu was even worse, straggling about one landing behind me the entire climb. We both had to pause at the top to catch our breaths. I heaved a sigh when I got sick of standing still and pulled the door to the hallway open.

The minute the latch from the door clicked I could hear them swearing at one another, probably scared by the noise. I felt a rush of relief, hearing their voices. It meant they were alive. I almost laughed, but I still wouldn't let myself smile for them. Childish? Perhaps. Bullheaded? Fuck yeah. Still, it was my choice to stay angry. Matthieu, on the other hand, beamed brightly, the joy of knowing they were okay radiating off of him. I'm sure… somewhere… I felt the same way.

"Oy, bitches! Don't shoot, it's us!" I shouted, to make sure neither of them freaked out and shot through the door at us. I didn't even know if they had a gun… still, I've watched horror movies. I know how it goes.

There was a silence… an obnoxiously long silence, before there was a stumbling noise, followed by the sound of the door coming unlocked. The hinges creaked loudly, and Francis stared out at us, his eyes wide, surprised, and just as bright and excited as Matthieu's.

He started spouting some sort of greeting in French, grabbing both of us by our shoulders, shaking them warmly. His usually obsessively kept hair was a mess on his head, and his usual stubble of a beard had grown out. If he could see himself, he'd probably throw a fit. He was so full of himself after all. The overzealous greeting only lasted a moment before he turned all of his attention to Matthieu, babying him like he had when we were kids.

I scoffed, inviting myself in, glancing about their dorm room. Despite everything, the room was still very clean… much cleaner than mine and Matt's ever was. It made Francis look even scruffier than he really was… and it made the supposed young man, watching me from the corner of the room look even older than he usually did.

The moment our eyes met, I forced myself to look away. Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could feel him doing the same. It was weird how the tension in the air got stronger the more we tried to avoid eye contact. I wondered if it would be better for us to get over ourselves and call truce for a while, but I was too proud to be the bigger person, and I knew he wasn't going to man up and do it. So we just stood there, trying to look at something besides one another.

After an awkward period of silence, I turned my head slightly, looking at him briefly. He had apparently turned back to me at one point or another and we managed to look to one another for a moment.

Ya know that little nod that two dudes will give each other when they pass by in a hall, or on the street? That's what I got… he lifted his chin a little, made eye contact, and walked by me, over to Matt and Francis. That was it. We hadn't said two words to each other in three years, and I got a fucking bro nod. A. Fucking. Bro. Nod.

I wheeled around, almost ready to confront him, only to see him wrap an arm around Matthieu's shoulder, hugging him warmly, smiling, happy to see him in good health. I felt my face turn red, the voice of a nasty, spoiled, and selfish child ringing in my head. What the fuck was that? Since when was Matt the important one? When did Arthur suddenly start giving a shit about him? He never seemed too interested in him before. It had always been me.

But that's because I told Arthur I hated him, isn't it? Why bother with someone who doesn't care?

I growled to myself, clenching my teeth together. "Well," I jeered, heading back towards the door. "Good seeing you, glad to know you haven't gotten yourself killed." I shoved my way passed Matthieu, not really caring whether or not he was going to follow me out or not. I just couldn't stand to be around them any more. Just being in the same room with Arthur pissed me off.

I was almost out of the room, when I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. Again, I turned, obviously angry, only to be met with Francis and his constantly smiling eyes.

"Hold on, Alfred," he said, turning back to Arthur and Matthieu. "Arthur and I had planned on heading out today as well. Perhaps it's best we stay together. Strength in numbers, n'est pas?"

There was a groan from behind Francis, followed by a condescending, smart ass voice that made my blood boil.

"As much as I hate to agree with Francis, he's right," Arthur sighed. "We don't know what's out there. It's better to have backup."

It took every ounce of self control not to turn and look at Arthur when he spoke. I kept my eyes focused on Francis, grinding my teeth angrily. Those were the first two sentences I had hear Arthur say in almost three years, and big surprise, they were the last words I wanted to hear. I didn't want to team up or work together. I would rather stab myself in the eyes with a pair of rusty pliers and force them open than let Arthur involve himself with my life again, and I'd rather die than admit that he was right... but... he was. I could only take care of myself and Matt for so long. We needed the support. Even if it was just the strength of knowing there was someone else alive besides us, it was better than nothing. "Whatever, but we're not sitting around all fucking day waiting for you. If you're not packed and ready, get on it..." I grumbled, looking at the floor, my face pinker than I ever wanted it to be.

"We were just getting ready to leave ourselves," Francis said. "Just let me grab one more thing..." He ducked back into the dorm, Matthieu at his heels, leaving me alone in the hallway with Arthur. Son of a bitch, that was the last thing I wanted… No, that was a lie. The last thing I wanted was to come here in the first place. This was the last thing I wanted after that, and just when I was starting to get too annoyed to stand there any more, the third to last thing I wanted happened…

"So, er... how's your police training going?"

I had lowered my guard. The moment Arthur mentioned my training I looked up at him, regretting it instantly. I hadn't wanted to look at him. Now I was inclined to continue the conversation. "It's been fine..." I said flatly, not caring to give him any more than that, but if I did stop there, he had the option of saying something like 'What do you do in training,' or 'Tell me about it'. I didn't plan on handing it back to him that easily.

"We're mostly doing written crap now... no action until we finish. That won't be for a while though." I said, trying to cover any questions he may have as quickly as possible... but then, something happened. I kept talking. Before I could stop myself I was telling him about how I was doing, the grades I was getting, how easy or hard the tests were, what the teachers and other officers were like... and that I was really enjoying it. I'm sure I had been talking fast. Matt and Francis were still in the other room, so unless they were talking too, I must have been going a mile a minute.

It took me a moment to realize just how much I had said... and I instantly hated myself for it. I had started talking because I didn't want him to... but I continued because I wanted to tell him. Fuck that. I didn't give a fuck if he knew about my life. I told myself over and over that I only kept going because I got caught up in talking about myself. That had to be it. There was no way that I wanted him to know that I was doing okay... Then why did I tell him I was happy?

Fuck! I was more or less screaming at myself for allowing myself to cave so easily. No, it was beyond easy. Fuck!

"So yeah... no big deal," I added, just to make it sound like I really had just gotten lost while talking about myself. Even if I had let him back in, I wasn't going to let him know it.

I suppose it worked, because he quit smiling and looked away from me to the door. "Oi, Frog-face! What the hell is taking you so long?" he shouted, reassuring me that I had successfully ruined the mood. "We don't have the time or space to take all of your crap, so get a move on!"

I let out a silent sigh, relieved and angry at the same time. I wasn't about to say I was upset that my plan seemed to work... but then again, I wasn't as happy about it as I let on. It was actually frustrating to see how quick he was to give up. Francis shouted something back in French before he and Matthieu made their way back into the hall. "I was polite and gave you two some time to chat, you could have done the same." he grumbled, nudging past Arthur. He was about two bags heavier now, brushing the annoyed look of his face quickly. "We're all ready then?"

I gripped my fists together. That little twat had gone off with Matt to purposely leave me alone with Arthur! For a moment, I was just angry with Francis, but then I started thinking...

"How's your police training going?"

Either I was disgustingly predictable or- My cold eyes turned to Matthieu who quickly looked away, as though he knew what I was accusing him of. That only made me sure… He had been keeping them up to speed on us... giving them updates. He had probably been visiting them the whole time. How was I supposed to make Arthur feel bad for leaving if he never had a chance to worry about me? 'Shut up' I yelled at myself. 'What the fuck do you care if he was worried or not!' I scoffed, trying to clear my mind, still angry with everyone, including myself, before adjusting my own bag. "Just try to keep up..."