[Hey guys! welcome to chapter two! Hopefully this will be longer than the first chapter, though that was more of a prologue.
I don't own Gutters, I don't own hetalia, and I don't own you.]
Three months had passed since the flash. Three months since Finland had seen any of the Nordics aside from Norway; since he had seen Sweden. Rumors had gone about saying that a man had been found by scavengers, and that he had been muttering to himself in what they thought was Swedish. They said he was badly injured, and when they tried to help him, he just shrugged them off and kept walking northwest.
"Do you think it was Sweden?" Finland asked, unable to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice. "I don't know," said Norway.
"I think we should look for him," Finland said.
"That's insane."
"No it's not."
"We'll die."
"Then stay here."
The Norwegian glowered at the shorter nation, but a conflicting look flickered in his eyes. He sighed. "Look fin, I know you miss him. We both do. But what are the chances that it really is him? Even if he was speaking Swedish, that doesn't mean it was Berwald." "And what if it is him?!" Tino shouted, on the verge of tears. "He could be looking for us or for Peter or someone and he could die trying! He's too stubborn and you know that!" He coughed from the strain on his voice and rested his forehead on Lukas's shoulder, clutching the tattered fabric of his shirt. "Please, Nor... please," he whimpered, hot tears streaking down his dirt-smudged face. Lukas sighed and rubbed his back soothingly. "All right. We'll look for him. Let's get our things ready and we'll leave tomorrow morning." Tino gave him a watery smile and nodded. He packed their rations they had saved up into his pillowcase and hid it under his blanket. "Let's get some sleep. We're going to need it."
[Okay! I don't have much to say for this chapter, but thank you for reading!]