.Part 16: Rations…..

It's difficult to believe that people are still starving in this country because food isn't available.

Ronald Reagan

..

A load bang and a fair bit of swearing came before the prison door opened.

"Stupid little…" a guard growled as he threw a bag on the ground before the nations, "Chow time, dogs. Enjoy it."

Roderich waited till the guard left before he opened the burlap bag. After undoing the thin rope around it, the Austrian scrunched up his nose and pulled out the food.

Their meal wasn't exactly edible, but it was food. Slightly moldy cheese, stale bread, and a small canteen of water was all that they were given to share, "This is disgusting," Roderich commented indignantly.

"Its prison rations," Alfred took Peter off his lap, placed the sleeping boy into Lovi's arms, and slowly forced his stiff, healing boy over to them, "Expected, but unnecessary. We're their only prisoners; they don't need to ration supplies."

"They're just that mean," Matt remarked as he too scooted over and picked up the cheese, "But this really isn't that bad a meal."

Lovino laughed morbidly, "Oh really? Enlighten us, oh wise maple bastard."

"In my papa's home," the Canadian mused as he picked some mold off the dairy product, "There are some very expensive cheeses that are better the longer you let them mold over. I'm sure if we just pick off the top layer, it'll be fine. And stale bread isn't that horrible if you think about it. It's just a little different than what we're used to."

Alfred laughed, "See Lovi! It may not be pasta, but it's better than nothing!"

The Italian glared silently. "I think we should portion it," Elizabeta said, looking over how much they were given, "There isn't much, but I think that we should have a system for who gets how much."

"That's a good idea," Roderich nodded, "Maybe by age?"

"No!" Peter woke up a bit, "It should be by how injured we are. Anyone whose hurt needs to heal."

"Calm down, kid," Lovino eased him back to sleep, "You still weak, you need your strength."

"The boy makes a point," Elizabeta said after the boy was asleep again, "So, by that idea, we know how to ration our supplies."

"Peter gets the largest, whether he likes it or not," Alfred said as he broke up the food, making a pile with a quarter of the bread and cheese, "Then Mattie," he laid aside a small portion of bread and cheese, "Then everyone else can take from the rest equally, but I think we should set some on the side for later in case-"

"And yourself?" Elizabeta interrupted, "You are hardly any better than your brother, Alfred."

"My arm isn't broke, Lizzy!" the American laughed, "I'm just a little roughed up, is all."

"You were branded," Mathieu raised an eyebrow, "You shouldn't push it any harder than I am, hero complex or not."

"I do not have a hero complex!" Alfred argued, weak voice cracking a little as his voice went higher than it had been for a while, "I'm a hero! I'm not going to deny that, but this has nothing to do with this."

"If it doesn't have anything to do with your sudden bout anorexia," his twin said sarcastically, "Than just man up, admit you're in pain, and take the damn ration!"

Alfred pointed a finger in his brother's face, "You are making this ten times more important than it needs to be, Mathieu!"

"Stop it, America you're acting like a child," Roderich pulled him away from his brother with one hand. In his haste, he forgot about the still healing brand's position just near his shoulder. The Austrian's hand pressed on were the wound was covered was covered in bandages.

Alfred held back a painfilled scream as he fell to his knees from the pressure on the raw flesh. He forced his arms to support him on hands and knees as his body automatically started to retch out whatever substance was left in his stomach from before they were captured onto the floor.

It took him a moment to register much stronger arms under his chest, much more gently this time, keeping him from crashing to the ground, slender fingers easing the bandages off his back to fix the now reopened wounds, and a slow hand keeping the hair out of his eyes as he vomited.

"Fine my ass," Mattie ran a hand threw the shaking mop of hair. He waited till his brother stopped retching, "Take deep breaths."

Alfred face was reddened in embarrassment and lack of oxygen. He panted a little bit as Elizabeta retied the bandages, "Lay him down on his side," she instructed to Roderich and Lovino, who held him up. They helped him onto his side so he could lay down.

Mathieu quickly and quietly gave out the rations and woke Peter up. He then sat by his twins head with both their now equal rations, leaned back against the wall to rest his own back, and managed to get Alfred's head to lean up against his leg, all without causing any pain to his arm, which made him do a little happy dance in his head.

"Eat," he held a small piece of bread to Alfred's mouth, "If your stomachs to weak, I can wait."

The American shook his head, still panting a little.

"Alright, I'll just wait, then," Matt stated.

"What?" Alfred questioned, but his voice was still raw and scratchy, so it was hard for him to talk very loud.

"I'm not eating until you do," the other twin replied, "But it's no big deal, I'm not that hungry anyway."

"Mattie…"

The Canadian smiled as he playfully (and lightly) flicked the blonde head in his lap, "Don't you 'Mattie', me! You'd stave for me, I'd starve for you. Simple as that."

Alfred tilted his head back a little to look into the purple eyes staring right back into his own blue, ignoring how it made his head spin slightly. The look he got told him if he didn't eat the bread, he would have it shoved into his mouth until he either had the choice of chewing and swallowing or choking and dying. So, he slowly took the stale bread and took a bite.

Meanwhile, everyone else watched in fascination as they ate from the other side of the room.

"They are… different, aren't they?" Elizabeta commented, holding back a chuckle.

"They sound so normal," Lovino whispered, "I mean, not normal as in sanity wise, but normally Alfred is so loud and I can barely hear Matt. Their volume is almost equal when they think no one is listening."

"They did that a lot whenever they visited England's house together," Peter said with cheese in his mouth, "Sometimes, if he was drunk enough, England would tell me stories about when he was an empire, and the colonies. He said that he didn't really understand how there could be twin countries, and that he had never heard of any relationship between nations other than a sibling one. England thought that they were special. Then again, he was pretty drunk…"

Lovino made a face, "Someone remind me to take away all the scone bastard's alcohol when we get out."

"I think England knew what he was talking about, actually," Roderich said to no one in particular, "Ever since we were brought here, I don't think they've left each other's side."

"Now that I think about it," Elizabeta agreed, "Alfred usually is the one interacting with his brother more than anyone else because Mathieu is so quiet, and I've rarely ever seen them argue of something they didn't resolve quickly. I think the only time it ever did get bad… well, Alfred did need a new White House, but the new one is much better."

Peter smiled tiredly, "I like it when they talk normal. I think it means they're happy, or at least content."

"I hope so," Lovino ruffled the boy's hair, "Now finish and go back to sleep."

The little micronation pouted as he finished his food.

"But, you know," Roderich mused, "England did make on point in his drunkenness."

"What?"

"I've never actually heard of identical twin nations, let alone even twin nations," the Austrian looked at the brothers, "If it wasn't for their eyes and the curls, and France messing with Matt's hair all the time, I'd say it would impossible to tell them apart if the kept their voices at this volume. It's really quite strange."

"They are rather remarkable beings," Elizabeta smiled fondly, "But it's not that surprising if you think about it. They're just extremely close brothers. That's all there is to it, so why question it?"

Everyone stopped there wondering. They finished their food and settled down, waiting for something to happen.

.Part 17: We all Fall Down….

Ring around the Rosy

Pocket full of posies

Ashes, ashes

We all fall down

-Unknown

.

After about three hours of silence, the prison door opened.

"Good evening!" Smirnov smiled as he walked in to the prison, "I trust you are all feeling well." The command then stepped in the pile of sick in the middle of the room, "Oh my, I take it you are not then by this. Who am I to punish for creating such an unpleasant mess?"

No one said a word.

Smirnov sighed, "Why are you all so uncooperative?" He looked around the room at the nations, "Well, someone must be punished," he reached down and roughly pulled Peter away from a startled Italian, "I suppose my little friend will do-"

"No, wait," Alfred struggled to get his head up off of his surprised brother's lap.

The commander smiled, "Oh? Do you have something to say, boy?"

"Leave him alone," he growled, "Do whatever you want to do to me, I don't care, just leave them out of it."

"Gladly," Smirnov laughed and grabbed him by the hair to make him look at his face, "I was hoping I would get the chance to crush that burning fire your eyes. It will be an honor to break you, boy."

"America!" Mathieu cried as he leapt forward, ignoring the pain in his arm from his sudden movement.

Smirnov kicked the Canadian in the gut to silence him, "Oh, do shut up. I don't feel like changing my mind again."

"It's alright, Mattie," Alfred panted, looking down with a sad smile to his twin, "Don't worry so much, bro."

The commander punched him, forcing the American to the ground roughly. Peter and Elizabeta almost screamed, but they were held back by the horrified nations next to them.

Matt watched in absolute terror as Smirnov started to drag his twin out of the room by his forearm. He couldn't help but call out his name over and over again, struggling to go after them, though he couldn't move except in a desperate leap towards them, and in a slower, shaky crawl for the door.

Alfred struggled a bit against the man's grip on his arm, but at most all but allowed him to pull him away. He reached out a hand as he walked backwards out the door.

The Canadian's hand was just inches away from his twin's as he leaned forward to try and pull him back. In his desperation, he didn't even register his arm slipping out of his sling.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Roderich rapidly went to grab Matt from causing himself or his brother anymore harm and Smirnov pulled Alfred out roughly, slamming the door hard, and cutting off the brother's grip.

Mathieu's hand hit the door, instead of Alfred's hand. He leaned against the cold metal by that one hand, the other hanging by his side, motionless and dangling. He sobbed as his knees gave out and he fell against the door.

"No…" he shook his head, hair falling down his face as he stared at the ground, "No…"

Roderich had a grip on his good arm as he knelt down next to him. He didn't know what to say to the boy, so he just laid a hand on Matt's back as he shook with fits and looked to the others with panic.

Elizabeta was quick to his side, taking Matt into her arms and shushing him quietly. Lovino pulled out bandages from the hole in the wall and brought them to Roderich so he could make another sling, then he picked up Peter and held him silently with the boy's face in his shirt so that he wouldn't see the sudden break down of North America.

Matt allow the Hungarian to hold him and fuss over him, but his eyes kept right on the door. His eyes were wide and red around the edges, and his face was wet.

"America…" he whispered to midair, "Don't leave me, please…"

"Shh…" Elizabeta petted his head, "It's alright. He'll be fine, he's a strong boy, he'll be fine."

"We're all going to die, aren't we?"

"No, Mathieu!" she shook his good shoulder, "You can't think like that!"

"But it's true," he bit his lip to hold back a sob, "T-This war is spreading death and pain like… like…. Like some kind of plague. And the people who started it act like it's some kind of game. They take life for granted, like everything is their own personal play thing. We're all gonna die… there is nothing we can do to stop it."

Everyone was silent, as they let the horrible reality of the quietly crying Canadian's words sink into their minds. They did nothing but pray to any and all of the gods they could think of, hoping that one of them was listening and cared enough to save a world that had all but crashed into a hell where no one could rise out of the ashes.

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END

OF ACT

1

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NEXT ACT:

BROKEN

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A/N FOR ACT ONE:

Well, that's Act 1: CAPTURED. I want to apologize for any issues in my overall story, if you noticed any issues in it, I would love to hear about it so I can improve. I hope you all enjoyed (or at least didn't die from my lack of back-bone for torture) the beginning of 'We All Fall Down'. I hope my title was explained in the last part, but I don't like how it turned out, so I'll elaborate a little on some of the themes in this story, such as the title and other things;

-'Ring a Ring o' Roses' (better known in America as 'Ring-Around-the-Rosie') began to appear among the English population around the 1790s to the same tune we know today. Many theorists speculate that the children's tune was about the plague, though many call that idea simply urban legend. The line 'we all fall down' is thought to be the equivalent of the many dead bodies falling to the ground. I felt that though the true meaning isn't completely justified as a song of death, that the song's speculated meaning and the controversy around it gave a good preview to the story. It means that though the nations have a strong feeling of pain and suffering, they still hold firm to the belief that they still have a chance of a happy ending.

-If the story line seems rushed, or odd at points, I must apologize. I space out a fair bit, and I hardly notice.

-I want to make it clear know rather than later that this story has what I like to call a neutral ending. I actually (for once) have a good idea where the story is going, and I have a sequel planned because were my brain wants to end this story leaves questions in my mind, so I figure it will confuse you even more.

-The next Act (if the title and the cliff hanger wasn't enough to tell you) has a LOT of blood, gore, cursing, torture, and such, as well as implied rape. Despite my mind being abnormally hesitant to do any writing like that, I keep reminding myself that it's nothing you wouldn't see in a PG-13 movie these days. I also realize that that may be a bit of a spoiler, but I have written a story before with similar themes, and I got several reviews complaining that I shouldn't be killing their favorite characters and I should have warned people and stuff like that. I actually stopped the story because I lost so many reviewers.

I hope you enjoy the story, and continue to read and review, and I really hope, most importantly, that you enjoy the fruits of my labor and follow the nations through their adventures.

God bless, and have a great day!

~DanelleSepthon