The plane ride was anything but fun of course. It was an hour and a half of a crying baby who refused to go to sleep, snoring people and loud toddlers. It was bad enough to give anybody a headache. England groaned massaging his temples as the noise hit him. They still had half an hour to go, and everybody on that plane was dying for the flight to end. He couldn't believe Russia was going to try and pull this off. Actually, never mind. He could definitely believe that Russia was trying to pull this off and there was a high chance of him succeeding. He shuddered at the thought of the world under Russia's rule. It was a living nightmare, one that seemed very possible at the moment and a possibility that he refused to think about.
There's no way. He's fighting the entire world damn it! He won't even get through Europe, let alone reach me or America. He reassured himself firmly. He heaved a sigh and put his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"Dude. Artie. Calm down bro. The world's not ending yet." America chuckled patting the Briton's back. England sat up and glared at the larger country vehemently, a low growl starting to emit from his throat.
"Ivan is planning an attack and you're telling me to calm down?" He hissed. "Alfred you must not realize the severity of this. After you invented the atomic bomb wartime has become a lot more dangerous. You proved that when you dropped them on Hiroshima and Nagasaki." The American looked taken aback by this statement and England realized how low he had hit by saying that. America absolutely detested the fact that he had created the atomic bomb, let alone the fact that he dropped it on who was now one of his closest friends. America scowled at England after a moment, something that England did not think was possible before his face returned to normal and he raised an eyebrow, putting his hands up.
"Whoa dude chill! I just told you to relax, no need to be so pissy!" He chortled. England sent another glare in his direction before continuing to dwell in his thoughts.
Meanwhile, a few rows back, the Bad Touch Trio was being obnoxious yet again as France kept hitting on one of the flight attendants while Prussia and Spain just sat there laughing their asses off. The distinct 'Kesesesese~' and 'Fusososososo~' was heard throughout the plane and it took all Germany had not to die of embarrassment from being related to Prussia. Italy was napping next to Germany, his head on the bigger man's shoulder, causing Germany to blush and stare awkwardly at the seat in front of him while Romano repeatedly kicked his seat, muttering things like 'Damn potato bastard' and 'Get the fuck away from my brother'. Germany paid no mind to it and ignored the Italian's insults as he always did, finding himself with his nose in one of his manuals. He really wasn't paying much attention as to what it was on, he just needed a distraction, something to preoccupy his mind, reeling with battle plans and strategies, soldier counts and weapon inventory.
What weapons were at Russia's disposal? What weapons were at their disposal? Who was Russia most likely to attack first? From what sides? How would the world economy react to the sudden war? What was the soldier count? How many military casualties to be expected? Civilian casualties? Which nations would crumble? Whose cities would burn at Russia's mercy? A question started to dig its way from the back of his mind, pushing through his other thoughts forcefully as he continued to try and drown it out, not wanting to think about it. His grip on the manual tightened and he wasn't even attempting to read it anymore, more so staring at the page filled with typed words in front of him and trying to concentrate on not letting himself ask the question. If he asked, he was practically admitting defeat. Surrendering. He refused. He would never. Especially not to Russia. Eventually, the thought found a weak spot in his willpower and burst into his forethoughts, invading everything else and blocking out everything around him. When they lost, how much would they lose until Russia beat them into the ground? It wasn't the question itself that disturbed him. It was the when at the beginning of the sentence. That's what disturbed him.
He bit his tongue hard and the coppery taste of blood seeped into his mouth. Not that he paid much mind to it. Until the flashbacks hit him. With the taste of blood came flashes of memories from World War II. Berlin being destroyed around him as he lay under the remains of a collapsed building, struggling for breath, broken pieces of stone pinning his body underneath the suffocating darkness that was the rubble. He distinctly remembered the taste of blood in his mouth, sharp and metallic as he coughed it up and it stained his lips and leaked from his mouth. He remembered at some point nearly choking on it before coughing yet again, clearing his throat of the thick, red fluid, instead leaving it to splatter on the stones above him and dribble past his paling lips. Even under the unforgiving rocks he could hear the wails of his people and each one licked at his body like flames. Of course, that wouldn't be a surprising feeling, half of his capital was burning to the ground, smoldering at the mercy of golden and red tongues that licked at the buildings of his city. A bomb went off somewhere, shaking the ground with a deafening sound that left his ears ringing and left his head feeling like somebody had plunged a knife through it and twisted it as much as possible. He gasped for breath, his oxygen supply slowly running out under his stone cage. As if on cue he heard frantic screaming and scrambling atop the rubble. But it wasn't one of his people. It was somebody else.
"Germany! Germany where are you?!" The voice wailed. It was all too familiar and his breath hitched as he realized who it was.
"Ita-ly." He managed. Suddenly, the rocks above him began to shift and soon a hole opened up, revealing a sky red as blood.
"Germany!" His friend cried. More rocks were moved and the German wondered where the little Italian got the sudden strength before realizing that Italy was kneeling next to him, grasping his hand firmly. Now that the debris had been cleared he could see his city. Or what remained of it at least. Bodies littered the streets and people ran about frantically in search of safety from the invading troops. Fire stretched greedily towards the sky, feeding off of his buildings hungrily. He swore they mocked him, devouring him and his people's hard work so easily. As if it meant nothing. Nothing at all. Shadows danced on the edge of his vision. The air tasted of gunpowder, ash and smoke. Heat pressed against his skin in waves that rolled off of the bombs and the fires. The smell of blood teased his nose. But above all, what terrified him the most was the sky. The sky was painted with the spilt blood of the people. His people. His sight faded fast, darkness taking over his vision. After a moment, he couldn't feel Italy's hand wrapped tightly in his and soon the taste of ash and gunpowder and smoke faded, followed by the smell of blood. He wanted to sleep. God, he wanted to sleep so badly. A nap wouldn't hurt. Right?
"Ludwig." A voice murmured.
"Ludwig." This voice was more urgent, as if it was Italy calling to him when he was in need.
"Ludwig!" The voice came again. It snapped him from his trance like state and his mind returned to the present. He noticed Italy and his brother gazing at him worriedly and he looked up at them expectantly.
"Bruder are you okay?" Prussia asked watching his younger sibling, concern flickering in his eyes.
"J-ja. I am fine." Germany responded. He quickly swiped his manual off the floor of the plane, only to realize that there was something sticky and warm starting to run down his hand. He was shocked to find that blood leaked from crescent shaped cuts in his palm, matching his fingernails perfectly. Italy noticed and gasped grabbing his hand.
"Ludwig you're bleeding!" He stated in awe. Germany sighed and took his hand back, not evening to bother examining the wound.
"It is nothing." The German quickly assured his Italian friend.
"Vest, as ze awesome me I can tell zhat zhat vas definitely not nozhing." Prussia pointed out. Germany sent his brother the 'We'll talk about this later' look before quickly changing the subject.
"How much longer is ze flight?" He asked quickly avoiding Italy's wide, amber gaze.
"Ve~ That's what we were trying to tell you about! We will be landing soon!" Italy squeaked excitedly seeming to have completely forgotten the previous occurrence. Germany blinked in surprise but nothing more. Had he really spaced out for an entire half an hour? He cleared his mind, not wanting to think about war time, past, present or future and quickly buckled his seatbelt, leaning back into his chair and tilting his head back to stare at the white airplane ceiling. He hoped to God that this war wasn't going to be as bloody as World War II was, but with the current weapons that they possessed and the fact that Russia was their opponent Germany's prayers would more than likely go unanswered. When they touched down and they had the right away to start grabbing their carry-on bags he did so and exited the airplane, keeping up with America and England who were ahead of them. Germany was followed closely by the other countries and they waited for everybody to cluster together before they walked out into the terminal.
The sight that greeted them was definitely unexpected. Three men and a woman stood tall and proud, each wearing a different United States Military uniform to represent four branches of the military. The only woman of the group of four was dressed in a United States Air Force Uniform. She was short and pretty with brown hair cut onto a bob and tanned skin, possibly of Latino descent. One of the three males was a tall and muscular African-American, wearing the uniform of the Marine Corps, broad chest displaying his badges and medals proudly. The man in the Navy uniform was average height with a lean, powerful figure, pale skinned and black haired. The man dressed in the Army uniform was slightly taller than the man who bore the Navy insignia, though otherwise their features were very similar. All four stood facing them standing with military discipline. America seemed shocked at first but he quickly composed himself, putting on a poker face and motioning for the others to stay with him as he made his way to the four. All of them gave the American a snappy salute when he stood firmly in front of him and he replied with one in return.
"Lieutenant General Garcia, General Thompson, Colonel Jefferson, Vice Admiral Andersen. What do I owe the pleasure of having you here?" America asked. His voice was unnaturally cool and calm, something that was very un-America-ish.
"Mr. Jones sir, the president has requested that we inform you of the latest occurrence in the war against the Russian Federation and that you report to the White House immediately." The girl informed him in a monotone. America crossed his arms and nodded slightly.
"Alright. And what might the latest occurrence be?" America asked raising an eyebrow. The tall man from the Marines eyes darted over the group following behind him.
"Sir, we have been ordered to discuss this with you. I'm afraid that-" The man was cut off by a venomous glare from America, causing him to immediately shut his mouth.
"I am escorting these people to the White House to discuss the exact same thing General, now tell me, what is the latest occurrence?" America asked sternly narrowing his eyes.
"Sir, we are on direct orders from the president-"
"I do not care what the president said. Tell me what the latest occurrence is right now and that is an order." America barked. All four of them flinched and the countries were taken aback by the sudden change in personality.
"Our sincere apologies sir. On behalf of the president, we are to inform you that from internal sources we have discovered that the Russian Federation is preparing for an invasion on Eastern Europe, more specifically the Baltic countries, within the next month. All other details are enclosed within this folder." The man from the Navy stated holding out a folder. Alfred took it, nodding his thanks to the man before tucking it into the inside of his bomber jacket.
"I trust that you are aware of the contents of this folder?" America asked looking at the four in turn.
"No sir. Only you and the president himself have been allowed access to those documents until further notice." America nodded and smiled at the four soldiers in front of him.
"I am very grateful for your information. This will surely benefit us in the near future." America assured them. "You are dismissed." He said with finality. After several moments he laughed and stepped back, turning away.
"Ah yes, I forgot. I have to turn my back to you before you can leave. My apologies." The American mused sending the four a crooked grin. The four started to leave but one of them, the man from the Army, stopped and turned to America.
"Sir, the president has told me only one thing about those files. Apparently, along with intelligence on the Russian Federation, that file contains an overall estimate on the war, money wise, casualty wise and the believed effect it will have on the economy. And there is also a document in there that the president asks you to sign concerning project Omega Seven." He explained softly. America's jaw nearly dropped as he hard those words but he quickly recollected himself and nodded, his composure regained.
"I see. Thank you for the information Colonel." America said smoothly. The man nodded before turning away again before America called out to him, causing him to turn around.
"Yes sir?" He asked walking a few paces closer. Alfred smiled.
"Please, call me Alfred. I find it preferable to 'sir' or 'Mr. Jones'. It makes me sound old like Artie over here."
"SHUT UP YOU BLOODY ARSE!"
A/N: Did ya like my attempt at angst? Yes? No? Anyways, review please! Pretty please? Pretty please with your OTP on top? Anyways, seriously. Review. by the way... Thank you to:
RomanoLindsey: Thanks a bunches for the review, follow and favorite! I'm glad I managed to keep them in character. ^-^
and to tapion580: Thanks for the follow, favorite and review ^-^
Otherwise, thank you to anybody who has alerted and/or favorited this story. Ciao for now!