Matthew sat quietly on the broken concrete floor, listening to the absolutel silence. His brother, the once greath America, stood by the barred window, looking out, the soft moon light shining on his face and reflected off his glasses. Matthew stood up and grabbed his gun, an M1 Garand. He quietly walked over to him "It's my shift..."
Alfred stayed with his sights out the window "It's fine.. I can stay up for yours too."
Matthew shook his head softly, and leaned on the wall "You need your rest Al.. I can handle this." Alfred looked to him and nodded a bit before giving him a pat on the shoulder and bringing his M6A1 to the center of the room with him as he laid down and got as comfortable as he could.
Matthew looked out the window to the still outdoors, it had been 1 and a half years since the first case of zombies broke out. He remembered reading about it in the news, two women coming back to life when they were about to be buried. He shuddered at the thought of the dead rising. It wasn't right. But since that day, there had been more and more cases of people coming back. Canada was even working on a cure by that time, and had sent out people to help Africa, but the virus was already mutaing beyond the cure. Other countries began lending their support, but it only led to the spreading of this disease. Wars broke out soon after. But the war was seeming to already be lost, towns and cities were destroyed, countries were killed and infected.
These thoughts swam in Matthew's head, clouding it, before a noise from outside snapped him out of it. Matthew looked out the window and quickly raised his gun, aiming down the sight. The figures were blury at first but once they came into focus Matthew nearly dropped his gun.
England and France limped over, but it seemed like England was holding France up and helping him along. They seemed to be in need of help. Matthew quickly ran to the door, the sudden quick movement woke the sleeping nation and he looked over "Matthew..?" He saw his younger brother opening the door and run out "Matthew!"
Alfred ran over after the Canadian before spotting England and France, Matthew quickly moved to the other side of his papa for support. "Matthew? Alfred? What the bloody hell are you doing out here?" England looked to them in utter shock.
"We could ask you the same." Alfred took England's place under France's arm and helped him in. "We've been camped here for a couple days now. We move every few days, before they know we're here."
England nodded and went in, closing and securing the door behind them. "We were on our way to find a new camp spot, this was the only chance we had to get out of that death trap..." He followed them to the center as they laid the injured France down.
"What happened..?" Matthew looked from Francis to Arthur.
"They found us in an old school... Seychelles and Sealand were with us..."
"Did they..?" Alfred looked over, only to have Arthur look to the floor in response. Alfred nodded a bit and looked to Francis. "Do you have any guns on you?"
"I only have one clip left for mine, and Francis dropped his..." Alfred stood and took a SMW 500 revolver and handed it to him. "Here, it's till we get to the amoury.."
Arthur quickly looked to them "The armoury..? Do you know how far that is from here? Are you bloody insane?"
"We have no choice Arthur! We need weapons to stay alive now! Even Mattie agreed to that! Plus, they should have rashons in there! Not to mention, water, bandages and medicine!" Alfred spoke loudly as Matthew sat, quietly tending to the wounds with what little rags they had.
Arthur grit his teeth "Fine... But if we're attacked and someone is killed, or all of us, know that it's on your head." He walked passed him and sat by Francis. Alfred just grit his teeth and took his gun, getting ready to go back to his post.
Matthew handed the rags to Arthur and got up "Alfred... It's my shift, you really need to rest, you've been up much longer tha-"
"Go tend to Francis. I'll keep watch till then." He said stubbornly, his thoughts trailing to make a plan for their trip. He didn't want anyone to die, especially his family, and that included Arthur whether he knew it or not.
Matthew gave a tiny nod before returning to France. He sat quietly, wiping blood and dirt from the once so clean and perfect nation. It looked like he was being beat and about to be eaten alive. His thoughts slowly clouded over when his imagination began thinking of what could have happened to him.
"Matthew..?" He blinked a bit, slowly coming from his thoughts. He looked up to see Arthur looking at him worried. "Are you okay lad?" Matthew gave a small nod before the Englishman reached over and lightly wiped a tear away from his cheek. Matthew looked to it then quickly down, feeling embarrassed. He hadn't even realized he was crying, and just from the thoughts of France being attacked, and his sister and brother killed. "It will be alright, nothing will happen to you. We'll keep you sa-"
"I'm not worried aboot myself Arthur.." He interrupted. He pulled his hands back and fidgetted a bit. "I'm worried for all of you.. I know you're strong, but I don't want anyone else to die... You're my family, the only ones that ever saw me.." He was about to add "most of the time" for Arthur since he quite frequently mistakened him for Alfred, but decided to keep it quiet.
Arthur gave a small nod and reached over, lightly and somewhat awkwardly rubbing his arm. "It will be alright, we all have eachother and we'll all be safe."
Matthew nodded and gave a small smile before standing. "You should rest. You've had a long day."
Arthur couldn't disagree, so he nodded and laid back, closing his eyes. Francis breathing heavy as he rested from his injuries. Matthew walked to Alfred and put a hand on his shoulder, giving a small smile, grateful his family was together. Alfred gave no smile back as he left the window to lay down.
Matthew watched him leave before looking back out the window. his thoughts drifting off yet again.