I rewrote this like five times cause I might have killed like everyone cause I was pissed off a the time so I had to redo it lol. Also there might be Frozen references because I'm a fucking dork and so is Alfred. Always remember to review of course!
Alfred hates saying goodbye. He's never been good at it, so he tries to make it so he never has to. But this morning is filled with goodbyes and he doesn't think he can handle it. There are nations that he hasn't talked to in years, pulling him into hugs, clapping his back and wishing him the best of luck when just last week they were complaining about it. It was sappily heartwarming and that made it even worse.
But when his closer friends say goodbye his heart breaks and he can't help but pull each and every one of them into bone crushing hugs. Russia is weirdly the first one to say goodbye, and with all sincerity he wishes him good luck and hands him a sunflower. It's sweet and so he does give him a hug, knowing that things are fucking changing so he might as well get over the past and look to the future.
Spain follows quickly after that, both of them sharing meaningful glances and a very, very long hug (Spanish hugs are the best, don't you know that?). Feliciano has to be removed forcibly from him, and Japan surprises him for the first time in forever, giving him a quick hug. He maybe starts to sniffle a little, because if Japan is hugging anyone you know the world has truly gone to shit.
Denmark is slapping him on the back and joking about having to play sports sometimes, but his eyes never leave Norway and Iceland, hovering in worried protection. China is overdramatic as usual, Belgium is surprisingly sweet and hands him a bar of chocolate, winking as she leaves. Gilbert waits until everyone is done, just giving him a nod.
He nods back, and he knows that Gilbert will keep his promise and give the world hell. It takes England and France longer to say goodbye, Francis personally hugging each and every one of them, and manages to make a few cry.
"We'll be off then." Arthur says quickly, and when he stalks back to his room Alfred just knows that he's freaking the fuck out. But he knows better than to make him face it, and heads back to his own room. It takes only minutes to get packed, thanking the gods that he had thought to bring his backpack. He packed some pills, clothes, and set his cell phone and charger in there.
He hoped the power would come back on.
He looked around the room once last time, sighing and running a hand through his hair. It was depressing and made him want to curl up in a corner. He looked in the mirror, grimacing at the way he looked. He looked like shit.
There was a knock at the door and Alfred sighed, not ready to face the upcoming storm. Francis says nothing and expects nothing back, holding his own bag and fingering with this cross necklace. His eyes keep darting behind him, like he's expecting there to be some zombie behind him.
"Ready?"
Francis slips a small smile, as if to say, 'are you an idiot Amérique? Of course I'm not, no one is'. But it's too late and Alfred feels like they have to leave now, or they'll end up here saying their goodbyes forever.
/~?/
It's fucking hot outside and Alfred sullenly wants to punch Oliver in the face. Like, who the hell decided it would be a great idea to have it be a zillion degrees outside? Australia apparently. Matthew looks like he was about to punch someone, which was starting to freak him out. On the other hand, Arthur looks like he's either about to start yelling or crying. Both are shitty, and if it happens Alfred doesn't really know what to do.
So instead he keeps up small talk with Francis, talking about nothing too serious, just monthly fashion and all the latest celebrity gossip. Alfred pretends that they're all still alive. Francis looks the most cheerful, considering the situation. Of course, he's a master in disguise, so Alfred tries not to be too fooled by it.
He trusts Arthur to know where the hell they're going, because not seeing anyone else walking around is starting to get to him, and it's only been two hours.
"-and Miley is a total god I think, the fact that she gets hate is fuckin' ridiculous-" Alfred rambles, but stops when he realizes that everyone has stopped. He turns around, a cold chill running through him. He suddenly feels hyper aware of the fact that they're practically walking around weaponless, like what the hell were they thinking, walking around like the world wasn't ending-
"When I get to three, run like hell to the nearest door." Arthur whispers calmly, eyes trained on something behind him. Sweat runs down his temple, his heart thudding like a drum, blood running in his ears- "One," He can't breathe oh god it's behind him, "two," why didn't Ivan give a fucking gun instead of a flower, "three."
He sprints like all of hell is following him, which is practically true.
Matthew gets to the door first, yanking it open and almost breaking the handle. Francis crashes in after him, Alfred pushing Arthur to go faster, faster damn you-
Alfred slams the red door shut and thanks the gods for the invention of locks. He whirls to Arthur, who's checking up the stairs, and grabs his arm, rambling about bites and if he's hurt and if he's okay, what he saw and if they followed them.
"Alfred, I'm fine." Arthur finally snaps, and allows his gaze to soften. "No one got hurt, okay?"
"What the hell were those things?" Matthew demands, falling against the brown couch. They all stand in a tiny house, in the living room. It's dead silent and Alfred wonders if they should check for zombies.
"I assume that they were the dead, but I only caught a glimpse-"Francis shrugs, falling next to Matthew. "I think Angleterre got the best view." He looks to the other nation, raising an eyebrow. "But there is no pounding on the door, so could it have been normal humans?"
"If humans had fucking holes in their chests." Arthur snaps, glaring at the Frenchman. "There were three, and two of them had missing limbs."
"Do you think they saw us?" Matthew asks worriedly, "And shouldn't we have some sort of weapon?"
"Maybe they didn't?" Alfred suggested hopefully. "And I bet there are guns in here, it seems like a gun sort of house."
Francis eyes a picture of an older couple and rolls his eyes.
"It wouldn't hurt, I suppose." He said dryly, and stood back up. "But I doubt that the humans who lived here had guns."
"Maybe a baseball bat?"
"…let's just look, okay?"
It turned out that there was a baseball bat, thankfully not made out of wood. Mattie even managed to find a hockey stick, but it was so old that it broke in half the second he touched it. Instead he opted for a metal pole (broken off a broom, a nail left at the end for a better stabbing effect). Arthur decided to tie a kitchen knife on the end of another broom pole, and Francis just opted for his hand gun.
"Should I go check outside to see if they're still there?" Arthur sighed, peeking out the curtained window.
"We should all go, just in case." Francis shook his head, eyeing the outside warily. "Safety in numbers."
"And safety in the terrifyingly strong brother of mine." Matthew smirked, flicking Alfred in the bicep. "Maybe we should just let him fight them all."
"Ha, ha Matthew, hilarious." He poked back, laughing dryly. "You won't be laughing when I'm the one saving your dumb ass."
"Are you challenging me?"
"You think you can handle a challenge?"
"Challenge accepted then, hillbilly."
"This has been wonderful, but can we get going? This house is making me feel weird." Arthur says before Alfred can respond, giving them both The Look. Francis affectionately claps Alfred's back before shoving him out the door first.
He stumbles outside, too nervous to find Arthur's worried yells funny. After some seconds of standing completely still he heads out into the street, the rest of them following behind. There are no movements from behind the houses, and the block is totally silent.
"I think we're good." Alfred sighs in relief, still grasping the bat. "Let's just get the fuck out of here."
And so they do, completely unaware of the old couple standing at the doorway of the house they were just in, arms bitten off and guts hanging out, staring at them with gaping black eyes.
One of them groans, and returns inside the house.
/~?/
The sun starts to go down and Alfred has to think of facing these things in the dark. No one talks, walking down the empty freeway, with empty cars as their only company.
"Should we sleep in a car?" Matthew finally suggests, breaking the silence.
"Have you ever watched the Walking Dead?" Alfred snaps, "That's like an invitation to be eaten Mattie."
"Fine, fine." He grumbles, crossing his arms. "We're not planning on walking all night, are we?"
When no one bothers to answer he throws his hands up in the air, mumbling about idiots and death wishes. This goes on for another hour before he spots a town ahead, finally going quiet and sighing in relief.
By the time they enter the town the sun is almost gone, the stars and moon starting to appear. Arthur suggests a house between two shacks, and none of them are surprised to find the house empty. Francis locks the door, moves a shelf in front of it for "protection" and double checks all of the window locks. No one asks where the people are, and that makes everything easier.
Alfred is the one to find food, handing everyone some chips before Arthur slaps him lightly on the back of his head, and has to be stopped by Francis when he starts to "cook", claiming that he had the house's best interest in heart.
After a dinner of pasta (thanks to Francis claiming that they all needed real food) they all climbed upstairs to look for a bedroom. Alfred claims the one closest to the stairs, announcing that he'll be the one to protect them all, ("you sleep like a fucking log Alfred, you're not fooling anyone") and Arthur disappears into one of the back rooms.
Matthew and Francis agree to share the third room, ignoring Alfred's eyebrow wiggles, and slams the door on him. The house falls silent and there are no sounds except for whispering in French from Matthew and Francis, and years of horror movies decide to come back to him at that exact second.
He wills himself to stay in his own room, telling himself over and over that he refused to run over to Arthur because that was a sissy thing to do.
But then he had the brilliant idea that obviously Arthur was probably scared and needed him, so he didn't feel bad at all when he nabbed a pillow and stomped over to the other nation's room. The door was closed, and Alfred silently cursed it, suddenly having second thoughts.
If the door was closed obviously he didn't want anyone to come in.
But he thought of the movie Frozen and burst open the door anyway, silently whispering "love is an open ddooooorrrr~" to himself.
"Jesus fucking Christ Alfred have you ever hear of knocking I swear to god you're an absolute git-" Arthur yells, and Alfred has to duck to avoid a pillow thrown at his face. He can't help but laugh, and can hear Francis laughing like an idiot next door.
He ignores the other's stuttering protests and flops on the bed, mumbling some half-assed response as to why he decided to just barge in like a savage and hog up all the covers. After a while of complaining Arthur finally just huffs angrily and plops down next to him.
"Goodnight Alfred." He sighs.
"Night Artie." Alfred smiles, and falls asleep to the sound of quiet breathing.
Haaahh oh my god Frozen. Fluff at the end 'cause reasons, next chapter the real shit will begin, and we'll finally get some action
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia ; n ;
-Talia