America groans, grasping a hold of the grass under him, pulling himself from the burning wreck of a plane. The rain was splattering on top of his leather coat, making a steady patter to add to the downpour. The cold rain drops hit his burning head, the feverish pain coursing through him, cooling him off somewhat. He gasps, pushing himself up with one arm, still sore after the crash. He didn't have time to eject and he had forgot to get a parachuet so he had no choice but to ride out the crash the best he could, the fire singing his coat, his hair and hurting him badly. He thinks he did pretty good, if he did say so. He was still alive, though hurt. He sits up but falls out again, yelling in pain, his whole world ringing in dead silence. He couldn't hear anything, but the constant ringing, not even the rushing off footsteps rushing towards him. England perks up, hearing the cry of help, dashing in the direction he thought it came from. America sighs, looking up at the sky, seeing the black smoke rising up as the rain drops hit Texas as he stares up, lost to the world. He needed to move but he couldn't, the pain too great for him. It would fade soon, it was an injury that he had obtained, not one that his country had suffered from. He blacks out, his struggling stopping, his head lolling to the side. Italy dashes onto the scene, yelping in fear at the sight of America sprawled out on the ground.
"I FOUND HIM!" He says, alerting the rest, "Circa qui, Circa qui!(Over here, over here!)" He calls, running over to the fallen hero. "He's not moving, ve!" Italy yelps out, cradling America's head in his arms, keeping his airway open.
England dashes out, gasping as he sees America's state. "What the bloody hell happened here?" He growls out rushing over to America. "Alfred, wake up." He pops America in the face, America groaning at the contact, "Get up wanker, are you ok?" America's eyes flutter for a second, looking dimly around before falling out again.
Italy glares at England, causing him to freeze in confusion. Italy never got mad, so it threw the empire off for a second.
"Well concidering you just slapped him, no." Italy yells out, surprising England. Italy sighs and looks down at America, shaking him slightly "Alfred...wake up, per favore. (please.)" He says in a calm voice.
America groans, opening his eyes once more and looking up at the other nations crowding around him. He gasps, thrown off gaurd and tries to stand up, putting his right arm down to push himself off. He yelps as his gunshot wound pains him, landing back in Italy's arms, the shorter nation having trouble keeping him up. England grabs him by his shoulders and helps him up, America hissing as England grabs a hold of his wound. England lets him go, America straightening himself, barely, still out of it. England looks at his right hand and spots blood, America's blood.
He looks up, "Alfred, what's going on? Why the bloody hell did you drive your plane without gas in it it, baka!" He says, his voice shaking.
China runs up to America, the nation still out of it and confused as to what was going on. "America. You ok? Alfred..." Still no answer, but a paniced look on America's face.
France groans, clicking his fingers infront of the dazed nation's face. No response, Alfred doesn't even blink. "Great, we've lost contact, maybe his friend Tony could help us out." He replies, hitting his forehead.
England shoots France a worried death glare, before looking in fear at the red liquid on his hands, "Francis, this is not the time to make sarcastic remarks! WINO!" England yells out, "He's bleeding. He's bloody bleeding!" He says, holding up his hand, covered in America's blood.
"AIYAH!" China helps America steady himself, taking a look at his jacket. A circle of red is soaked into the leather, a rip in the fabric. He looks at his back and spots a small hole going into the shoulder area on the leather coat. "He's been shot, aru!" He exclaims.
"SHOT?" Canada yells out, finally ariving on the scene, "What do you mean Alfred's been shot?" His blue eyes wide in worry.
England growls, "Shot? I knew something had happened, I knew it." He pulls his hair in frustration, "Get him back to the headquaters, now." He yells, pointing towards the building.
Italy and China nod, helping America walk through the clearing, the rain turing everything to mud almost. America's mind is racing, not knowing what was going on, who these people were or anything. His vision is going in and out as his body tries to heal itself, trying to get him back to a hundred percent. His vision starts to finally clear as they help him towards the hideout, the rain starting to wake him fully up. He stops, finally coming to his senses. China and Italy look at him in relief as he looks around in shock. To the nations' surprise, he yanks free of them, stumbling as he tries to keep upright. England and France rush up to him, catching him before he ran directly into a tree.
"Let me go, we need to go, now!" America yells out, finally finding his voice.
England groans, struggling to keep a hold of the crazy American, "Alfred, you will come with us, you're hurt, you fell out of the bloody sky and you've been shot. Who shot you anyhow?" England asks.
America shakes his head, England and France finally not letting him stand by himself. America groans, feeling the pain coursing through him. He notices the nations staring at him and realises he didn't answer England. England was looking worriedly at America, ready to drag him to the hospital.
America sighs, grasping his arm in pain, "My soldiers but that doesn't matter. I need..."
"Your own people shot you!" France yells out, "That's munity! Why did they shoot you?" He says, worried about America's well being.
France was remembering the last time America's soldiers had shot him, back during the civil war. America had gone nuts after wards, torn between two sides of his country, it was heart renching. He wondered if America was going through yet another Civil War, and that wouldn't do them any good right now, in the middle of WW2. Russia already had an insane fit, his country going through their own revolution. Russia had almost killed them all before Belarus drug him out of the meeting room, kicking and screaming in fact. America backs up but gasps, his body still in too much pain to move too much.
England groans, looking worriedly at America, "Alfred, stop, don't move anymore, you'll hurt yourself even more. We need to see if you're ok. What were you thinking? That crash could've killed you!" England exclaims, practically yelling at him.
America shrugs off England and starts heading towards the nearest airfield, growling in anger. They weren't listening to him, they wouldn't listen to him. Japan was an Axis, they wouldn't care if he was getting killed, but...maybe Italy could get him to surreneder before the bomb was over there. No, Italy wouldn't be able to convince Japan to surrender, it wouldn't work. Nothing would. He had to destroy the bomb, that was the only way, and he knew it. England looks shocked, America hadn't acted like this ever sense he suceeded from him all those years ago. France runs up to him, walking beside him.
"Alfred? Arthur was just talking to you. You just don't shove him off like th-" France begins.
Amercia growls and quickens his pace, but where to find the bombs, it was like search for a needle in a haystack, and he had only 2 days to find it. France stops, not understanding America's behavior. You could never get America to shut up sometimes and here he was, refusing to talk to anybody.
"America? What's gotten in to you, aru?" China exclaims.
America stops, his fist trembling, the rain falling all around him, matching his mood. The rest of the five nations stare at him, backing away from him.
"You want to know what's wrong, Yao? I'm a villian, that's what's wrong." America says low, the voice even freaking Italy out. He looks back, tears in his eyes, "My boss is about to do something horrible!"
"What happened at the meeting, Alfred?" England says slowly, trying to get closer to his former younger brother. He now realised America was serious and he was ready to listen.
America groans, "Truman...is going to bomb Japan." Italy winces, hearing the news.
The rest sigh, "It'll be ok, aru. Kiku can handle a bombing raid, after all, Arthur di-" China starts.
America growls loudly, "No, you don't understand...the bombs...they aren't regular bombs."
Italy looks at America a very worried look on his face, "What do you mean 'not regular bombs' ?"
America sighs, tears streaming down his face, concealed by the falling rain, "This is how Szilard explained it to me...its called an Atomic Bomb." Italy looks up, he had heard Germany talk about that once, America continues, pacing around the nations. " It is bascially..um...how did he say it?" America holds his head as he tries to think, the adrenaline pupping through him making it hard to focus, "A device, such as a bomb or warhead, whose great explosive power derives from the release of nuclear energy and not explosives. A nuclear blast follows an explosion and emits a large amount of thermal radiation, which includes harmful ultraviolet rays, and other deadly radiation." He continues to circle, the nations looking wide eyed to America's explination, like he was speaking a completely different language. "It will kill thousands if not millions of people, not from the blast, but from the radiation! The damage to the land is much worse if not the same, killing plants, poisoning the land, hell...fires, radiation, poison, even the explosion in a small area would have a lot of effect." His wrist throbs at the mention of it, shaking his head, to get to the point of his expliation. "But Truman wants to drop it on some of Japan's most populated areas, his vital points! In other words, if I don't stop the bombs..." He holds his head down, about to sobbing. He restrains his emotions, looking at the other nations' horrified faces, gathering his wits together "Japan will die."
China and Italy look horrified at the news, Italy falling to his knees. The rest just stare in disbelief, just shocked with the news. Italy was on the verge of crying, his best friend was in danger, terrible danger, and Germany wouldn't be able to help them out this time. He shivers, hoping America was wrong, that it was just a regular bomb. He gasps, remembering Germany talking about a 'Atombombe' long time ago, when his scientists were trying to develop a new bomb and try it out on England. Italy begged Germany to stop building it, saying it wasn't good, it was evil and would only bring more trouble. The bomb was a failure and his scientists said it couldn't be done, calming Italy down. But, here America's scientists had come up with the impossible bomb and was going to use it on Japan.
France groans, "Merde."
America runs towards them, "We have to find and destroy the bomb, before Truman sends it on the 6th. I tried to talk him out of it but he had already made his decision and the bomb is ready to drop, he even tested it on me!"
The nations look in shock at America, the rain pouring steadly around them. England looks horrified at America, not believing what he had just heard. Even Canada is shocked, not liking that his twin brother's boss had used him as a lab rat.
England growls, "What do you mean your boss tested it on you?" His eyebrows twitching in fury.
America sighs, "You remember in July, when my arm pained me so bad I couldn't stand it and I went back to my base to rest up? He had bombed New Mexico to try out the bomb, and it worked very well, too well." America says, his wrist twtitching involuntery, still paining him slightly. "He told me the bombs were for Germany, but Germany had already surrenedered so he's now turned his sights on Japan."
Italy looks up, "He was going to kill Germany?" He yelps out, his voice cracking.
America nods, "And now he's going after Kiku unless he surrenders before the bomb drops. We have to ethier destroy the bomb, or convince Kiku to surrender peacefully."
Italy perks up, "I could..."
America shakes his head, "No, Japan won't listen to you, you are an Ally."
"But, I use to be an Axis, I only joined because Mr. Badoglio made me join." Italy replies. America shakes his head sadly, Italy hanging his head down in defeat.
China snaps out of it, "Well, where are the bombs then, aru? We have to stop them, or else Kiku will die!" He says, tears welling up in his eyes.
America gets ready to say something when England jumps into the conversation, "Listen here, we need to get organized on this matter. We need to get into the headquaters, out of this rain, America needs to get banadaged up, and we need to figure out a game plan. We need to do this or else everything will go wrong, understand?" England says, shaking his head as the water drips into his eyes. The nations look at England, not sure weather to listen to him, or go hunt down Truman and skin him alive for this.
America sighs, "England's right, we have till Monday to figure this out." He winces, falling onto his knees, his body had taken too much and he couldn't take it. He needed food, water and rest but he wasn't about to let himself sleep, not until Japan was safe.
China looks very upset, he may have hated his brother after he slash his back in betrayal but, he was family. He couldn't let his family get hurt, even if he hated him. Italy jumps, a crack of lighting shattering the air around them. It matched their turmol perfectly, the rain really pouring now. Canada sighs, walking up to America, Alfred looking like he was almost dead. He helps him stand up, proping him up on his shoulders. They head towards the building, England grabbing America's other arm and helping Canada carry the injured hero. Italy rushes ahead of them and opens the door for them, the nations piling in. China groans at England's banadages, the white ribbons falling off of him, revealing a few gashes in his arms and one on his neck. He didn't notice though, helping America to the chair. He yanks America's coat off of him, the leather jacket landing on the ground. Italy looks at the map inside in shock, he couldn't believe it he just couldn't imagine it.
"D-Day..." He looks at the plans in America's coat, the plans him and Germany could never find, right under their noses.
The rest don't notice, America groaning as his uniform was stained with his blood, "I have no idea what this is going to do to North Carolina." America replies, looking at his right shoulder not knowing about the escaped POW in his homeland.
England sighs, pulling off America's uniform, "I'm sure it was nothing too bad." He reassures America, "Now calm down, and shut up, China, we need to see if the bullet is out, and if not..."
America groans, "Oh don't dig it out, last time that happened I was in the Rev...um...Civil war. That didn't feel too good." He replies, changing subject before England noticed.
China groans, "We might have to get him drunk...what a time for Russia not to be here."
America shakes his head frantically, "Oh no, you won't see me even touch his damn Vodka." He growls out, glad that the nation was nowhere to be found.
Canada sighs smiling slightly, America was still acting like himself at least. He was still frantic though, he could sense it, even if no one else could. England sighs, looking at the wound, seeing no bullet, it had came out the other side. France growls, his head soaked and his lovely hair completely messed up, shaking his head to get the water off. That just makes it look worse though, plastered to his forehead now. He moves it out of his face, looking pathetic in the least. China and England work on America, taking off his uniform, the nation tensing up as the fabric sliding off of his wound. China gasps, seeing the scar on America's left chest, England just looking in shock. His shock quickly turns to fury, glaring at America.
"Where'd you get this?" England asks, poking the scar in anger, "You didn't tell us about this."
America whinces, turning his head away, "Um...well...its from Pearl Harbor. When we were bombed by Japan's planes, ok. I was there that day, through it all." He admits.
England looks in shock, he knew America had gotten hurt that day, but America never showed it, just claiming his got a small scratch from Pearl Harbor, not a gash that scared over.
China looks at the scar, reminded of his own, "America, why didn't you tell us?"
America growls, "Because, I still...OW...hey, watch the shoulder!" He growls out, England wrapping the banadages tighter on him, anger coursing through the Brit. America gasps, the pain coursing through him, "It will just heal up in the morning, its not like North Carolina was attacked." He groans out, England pulling tighter.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He says, looking at America sternly.
America sighs, "Because, I could handle it, its not like I was terribly hurt by slamming into the jagged wall. Sure it almost squerwered my heart, but I was fine, just sightly burn, a few gunshot woulds and stuff." He says, clutching the chair arm in pain.
England sighs, "You wanker." He shakes his head, smiling slightly, "You could've been killed in the attack, you never told us you were actually at Pearl Harbor." He wasn't mad at America, just a little for lying to him. He was more relieved that America was ok, and not dead.
Italy sits in the back, he had to warn Japan, but Japan was too warry of Westerners, he would ever surrender to the Allies. He's hands twitch, he wanted to call, to save his friend more than anything. France sighs, looking at Italy. He was so confused probally, torn between friends and a war, his own people had imprisoned Germany in one of their jails. America moves his arm, whincing at the movement. England growls and slaps America on the back of the head.
"Ow! Arthur?" America looks up at England.
"Don't move it, you'll hurt it worse than it already is." England replies, looking at America.
America sighs, nodding his head, "Yes, bro." He says, his eye's getting droppy, the adrenaline wearing off.
England looks in shock, "What did you call me?"
America looks up, "Huh, what?" He was tried, no sleep for 20 hours having an effect on him, not to mention all that happened.
England sighs, noticing the all-telling look in America's eyes, he was exhausted. He didn't blame him, after all he went through, England would've already fell out asleep."Alfred, you need to sleep."
America shakes his head, "Not tired, need to find that bomb, or warn Kiku. I can't go to sleep, now."
England looks outside, "Alfred. Nobody is going anywhere for a while with that tempest outside, now, go to sleep."
America shakes his head, thinking. He really needed to get to Japan, there was no way he was going to find the bombs before he could stop the first one. Italy meanwhile is thinking the same thing. He knew he couldn't get through to Japan without some help. America sighs, if only there was someway to get to Japan without...Italy and America look up at the same time.
One thought was on their mind, "Germany."