notes: this is a zombie-fic. meaning there will be a certain amount of gore and violence. this is also an angst fic and i can't really promise any happy endings! sweden, finland, and sealand will show up later. c: also to avoid confusion
emil - iceland
mikkel - denmark
lukas - norway

make sure you review! it gives me a bit more motivation to continue.

The soft splashing of gasoline hitting the cement floor numbed him to the core. They were really going to go up in flames, out with a bang, riding in style to wherever the final resting place was… weren't they? This was really happening. Lukas felt nausea bubbling up in his stomach, so overpowering he fell to his knees and put his head between them, breathing long and deep. It was too much. He knew the others were staring at him but it was just too much.

A small hand tugged at his sleeve. Lukas turned his head to look at the little boy before him. Concern filled the boy's watery blue eyes, his white hair disheveled and smeared with grime and dirt. The boy – Emil - held his arms up over his head. "Up." He murmured, pleading Lukas with his eyes. The man had no choice but to comply.

Emil gripped Lukas's body firmly with all his limbs, burying his damp face into his wrinkled shirt. He sniffled a little bit, but stilled when Lukas stroked his back. The others were propping wood against the walls, pouring gas on top of the dresser blocking the front door, recovering matches and personal lighters. It was surreal, and Lukas felt the nausea ease back into place. It must have shown.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Mikkel asked loudly, the others looked at him for a moment before resuming their work. Lukas looked down at his boy and shook his head. The taller of them walked over, boots hitting heavily upon the drenched floor, until he was right in front of them. He rested his hands upon Lukas's hips, leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead, and then, much like a snake, he hissed.

"Nothing better than burning your family alive on a beautiful night like this."

Lukas was chilled all the way down to his marrow, fear pumped through his veins thicker and colder than blood ever was. He didn't know this man; it wasn't Mikkel anymore.

The house erupted into flames. Mikkel bit his neck, blood spilling down and mixing with Emil's snow white hair. Emil began to cry, hiccupping as the flames lapped around the three of them. He just kept crying and crying and crying and cr-

"Mngh, babe are you going to get him or should I?" Mikkel groaned, removing his arms from around Lukas's middle and disentangling his legs. He turned over, pulling the sheets with him, leaving Lukas cold and irritated, still swimming in the confusion of his previously interrupted nightmare.

"Why did you even bother asking?" Lukas grumbled, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed and propping himself up with his hands. It was going to be a bad day, he could already tell. His body was still pumped with adrenaline from the horrifying circumstances of his dream, and now he had to calm the baby.

A long time ago their house had been in decent condition. Now it was in shambles, dirty and unfit, with only one comfortable room. They all shared the bedroom, although that was for safety purposes.

Emil was thrashing with his blanket on his twin-sized bed – they couldn't salvage a frame, so his mattress was directly on the floor – his eyes were open but filled with fear and uncertainty. Lukas thought for a moment that Emil might have had a nightmare of his own. He sighed and went to the dresser, pulling out a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a loose gray shirt. He shed his sweatpants and clambered into his clothes before moving back to kneel beside Emil's bed. Emil stopped and gazed at Lukas with wide eyes, tiny fists curling and uncurling.

"Good morning." Lukas whispered, offering a smile. Emil continued with his hands until Lukas scooped him up, blankets and all, and hugged him to his chest. Emil seemed to adore Lukas a lot more than he did Mikkel. With Mikkel it was just tolerating him, constantly fussing and pushing him away. Neither of them knew why he chose to play favorites – although Lukas suspected it had something to do with how rough Mikkel looked; all muscle and stubble.

Slow breathing filled the room as Mikkel drifted back into an easy sleep.

Lukas stood up and walked down the hallway that led to their dingy-looking kitchen. He retrieved a bottle from one of the overhead cupboards and set it on the counter, repositioning Emil so he was supported by his hip. Then he began preparing the bottle for Emil, heating up its contents and then pouring them into the bottle. He made sure it wasn't too hot, and then the bottle finally found its way into Emil's hands.

The house was eerily silent for a few a minutes, and in that time Emil's eyes had managed to become half-lidded and drowsy as he drank from his bottle.

A soft thump echoed across the house. Lukas's violet eyes grew wide with dread and surprise. He spun around, listening intently until it happened again. It was coming from the front door. It grew steadily louder with each passing minute – thump. thump. thump. THUMP.

Then there was a scratching sound. It was long and drawn out like nails on chalkboard. The temperature in the room felt twenty degrees colder to Lukas, who hugged Emil tighter to him and moved to go down the hall again, feet falling every time a 'thump' sounded, just to mask his sound. It didn't matter though.

They already knew they were there.

There was the sound of feet shuffling and tripping amongst dead leaves and twigs of the sideyard, traveling straight through the thin walls of the house. Lukas froze and bit his lip. He took a deep breath, then another, before talking.

"Mikkel."

"I heard them."

Lukas entered the bedroom slowly. Mikkel was sitting on the bed and tying the laces on his black combat boots, other than that he was all dressed and ready to go. His eyebrows creased with worry as he finished lacing up, occasionally glancing towards Lukas – who seemed distraught, at best. Lukas began picking Emil's clothes out of the dresser, laying them out separately. He put Emil back in his bed with his bottle. Lukas was oddly silent as he removed the rest of their clothes, folding them and dropping them in a pile on the edge of the bed.

"Babe-"

"What?" Lukas snapped, growing still as he felt Mikkel's eyes on him. He expected a lighthearted chuckle, warm hands on his hips, and a soft kiss on the neck. Some sort of comforting gesture. But he received none. It made Lukas feel intensely bitter towards him.

"Pack as much as you can into the duffel bag. Save room for food. And hey," he sidled up behind Lukas, wrapping his arms around his middle and kissing him chastely. Lukas could feel him smiling, and he couldn't help but smile a little bit too. "We're going to be okay. You know that right?"

"I know."

"Meet you in the kitchen in about twenty minutes to pick rations?"

"Sure."

"'love you, babe."

"I love you too. Now stop stalling and go check out the situation."

Mikkel smiled and Lukas turned around to give him a real kiss; soft and slow and lingering, tongue probing at the Danish man's lips briefly. When he pulled away Mikkel bumped their foreheads and smirked.

"Do you think we'll make it to the truck?" Lukas inquired, fingers pulling at the fabric of the other's shirt in an unspoken gesture.

"Hell yeah. Just you wait and see them try to stop us."

author's note:
hello fellow readers! i recently came back from a long hiatus and decided to get back into hetalia again, so i decided to write a zombiefic. i need to practice writing gore and horror as well, so be prepared for that? this is a dark fic, after all.

i'm not sure when i'll have the second chapter up. i'll just be waiting to see the opinions on it so far, and if readers are willing to buckle up for the long-haul!

- hunter

so please leave reviews, even if you hate it. constructive criticism is always welcomed.