Matt slept like a log, body drained. Al sat running things through his head to keep himself awake, doing things from math problems to retelling old stories Arthur would tell at bed time.
He was still out of it when a soldier came and ordered them to get to their feet.
Al snaps his head up, glaring at the soldier "Let him sleep!"
He barked the order again, waving his gun in his face. Al growls and staggers to his feet, wishing his hands where free.
He jabbed the weapon at Matt and told him up, but the blonde didn't move.
Alfred glares and bowls into the German knocking him back some, "Leave him alone!"
He slammed the butt of the gun between his shoulder blades, knocking him down. Alfred grunts and lands on his knees looking back up.
He told him up again, wanting him to wake Matt too.
Alfred scowls at him and glances over twisting his arms to touch his brother, "Mattie?"
He groaned and shifted. "Few more minutes..."
"Sorry bro, ya gotta get up." he shakes him gently.
The soldier snapped again and Matt flinched, stumbling to his feet. He looked dazed. Alfred stands next to him steadying him as much as he could.
They were shoved along the moment they were on their feet. No one cared if they were tired or stumbled. They wanted swift obedience, nothing more.
Alfred trudges along, glancing over to Matthew occasionally.
He was heavy and slow, ready to drop into the mud. His arm was caked in blood, starting to smell...
It was clearly getting infected Alfred prays he doesn't get sick from it. They were shoved onwards, towards a line of army issue jeeps.
Alfred scowls this would make it harder for the other nations to find them, that is if they ever find out..
They were thrown into the back of one, no one caring much for their welfare. Matt cried out, injured arm leaving a bloody smear across the dirty metal bed in the back of a jeep. Alfred snarled at them, twisting around to grip his twin. The door slammed, throwing them into darkness and silence.
Al sighs "How you holdin up?"
"I can't feel my arm much... just shots of pain..." his voice was scratchy and strained.
Al reaches back and feels his face.
He leaned into his hand, sighing. "I hate wars..."
"Me too.." War was far from fame and glory like story's would tell you. At least Matt didn't have a fever yet.
The jeep started moving soon... it was a rough ride in the back and loose boxes occasionally slid through the dark, hitting the twins. Matt was finding it hard to sit up now... he slumped on Al.
Alfred rests his head on top of Matt's, hopefully since it was an infection Al wouldn't catch it like he normally would when Matt gets sick or vice versa.
It wouldn't have that effect, since it was infection Matthew and not Canada... but Matt was burning up now...
He sighs and closes his eyes. There wasn't much he could do for it right now.
It seemed like a small age before the jeeps stopped... Finally, they drew to a halt and voices could be heard outside, discussing what to do with them.
They haven't opened the doors yet, Alfred just listens to them argue.
"Prisoners go to the camps, its that simple!" "Theres something about them though. The General says they're like Herr Beilshmit..." "...Just leave them in the truck tonight... we can deal with them later."
He groans Matt needed help but he doubts they'd give it anyway. He wiggles his arms trying to break the cuffs.
The jeep rumbled into life again. They were backing the door up to a wall, just to be safe. The jeeps were built to tackle bombs - Al would struggle to break through the side, and like hell he'd get away... Not with Matt like he was.
The chains snapped and he rubs his wrists and shoulders before, feeling Canada's head. He frowns and lays him in his lap pulling on the others restraints.
He's too hot and the jeep is just stuffy... It's hard to breath in here... Matt moaned painfully, clutching his wounded arm.
Alfred shuffles around through the boxes that where pelting them earlier, looking for anything useful. There was a stock of bloodstained blankets, likely infected with disease.
He grimaced, why did they even keep these? He shoves that box far away and reaches into another finding a few rolls of bandages and a water canteen. He washes off Matthews arm and wraps it sitting him up to drink what was left
He was weak, but fighting. "Need sleep..." rest would make him stronger... right?
"I know" Al says leaning on the wall. He putts Matt's head back in his lap "Rest up bro."
He whimpered softly before plain passing out, tumbling into a restless slumber. Alfred runs his fingers through Matt's hair for a while before drifting off himself.
They were woken at dawn the next day, heavy hands pulling them away from each other and into the meager sunlight.
Alfred fights against them, struggling to get back to his brother. Matt is still sick and can barely stand. He looked wretched...
"Vhat do we have here?" A condescending sneer cut through the chilly air. "Two soldiers... One with fight and one looking lost... but both are special, ja?"
Alfred turns and scowls at the voice, still struggling in the mens grip.
It was an arrogant looking commander. "I know your kind, so do not tell me I am mistaken... You two are just like Herr Beilshmit... and now you belong to the Furher!"
Al growls and kicks behind him, knocking a few of the men back. He breaks off from the rest and gives the commander a right hook. Then turns toward Matt and pulls him away from the others.
The commander stumbled and yelled for Al to be stopped. "Shoot him if you have to!"
He holds Matt close to him as he runs. Flying wouldn't do any good here they'd shoot him out of the sky.
Matt's dead weight would slow him down... not to mention the fact that he must be exhausted. Gunshots started to chatter behind them, bullets biting into the earth just metres away.
One nails him in the thigh. He stumbles a bit gritting his teeth. Matt slipped from his arms, tumbling to ground. He reaches for him. Pulling him back over as the soldiers run toward them. He lets out a threatening hiss.
The gunfire was relentless. They were getting closer...
Alfred covers Matthew with his body as best he could. Struggling to get back to his feet.
It was so sudden, he couldn't have fought it. A soldier rushed forward and slammed his gun into Al's shoulders, pinning him.
He grunts but doesnt let go. He could feel how sick Matt was and he'd be damned if they where separated now.
The barrel of a rifle was placed at his head. "Let him go and get up slowly."
He gives out a hiss and his eyes flash gold for a second. He stands up still holding his other half. The commander shrugged and gave a signal. The entire platoon emptied their guns into the blondes, too close to miss. Every bullet tore through flesh.
Alfred grunts as he was hit, he collapses on top of Matt and covers him the best he could. His body was having a hard time keeping up with the wounds only partially healing each.
Finally the barrage stopped leaving Alfred panting. The soldiers closed in but before they could Alfred rose from the ground radiating strange energy. His jacket morphed and rose off his back to form wings, his face sharp and angular. But most of all where the cold golden eyes he stared them down with adding to the blood making him look downright demonic. The soldiers back away fearfully. He stares right at the colander "I'll play along for now, but if you even TRY and take my brother away I'll disembowel you where you stand!" He screeched raising a claw threateningly keeping his other around Canada.
The general scoffed. "You vill behave, or your brother vill be little more than a name and a bloodstain."
He hissed but his features morphed away. The soldiers moved up to him cautious.
"Hurry up and take them," he snapped and some of the men snatched Matt away, cuffing him.
He growls and tries to get up but without his spiritual energy he was drained. He was manhandled to his feet too and taken back to the camp.
Alfred struggles weakly wanting to get closer to Matt. This time, they were thrown into separate trucks and driven off again.
He growls throwing out his senses to find Matt.
Matt's presence was nearby, but it was faint... just a whisper... and fading.
His face pales and he struggles to break free. but the numerous wounds are taking its toll.
His presence was starting to get further away now... Their trucks were driving apart.
"Nooo!" he rolls and starts kicking the back of the cab trying to get them to stop.
Gruff German belted through at him, promising a sound thrashing if he didn't settle down.
He continued to kick
An angry shout sounded and a gun muzzle poked through the iron grill between the two compartments.
"TAKE ME BACK TO MY BROTHER OR HE'LL DIE! WHAT USE IS HE TO YOU THEN?!"
"We follow orders," he snapped, English poor. "We do not care, he is just prisoner. you are just prisoner too!"
He snarls and kicks out feeling for Matt again. Trying to send him some energy before he's too far.
Too late... Matt's presence was gone...
He collapses spent and crying. Praying to any god he knew that he'd be ok.