Invasion
By: Verin Mystal
Pairings: Russia/America (main), America/Canada (Plationic/Brotherly), Canada/Ukraine, Lithuania/Belarus & others
Summary: America struggles to find solace after civilization crumbles in a post-apocalyptic world. My take on the classic "Aliens invade planet earth" set up. Rated M for language & violence.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the original ideas in this D:
Air gushed from his lungs as he fell head-first into the icy current. The frigid river water dragged him under, embracing and filling his every pore, searing the heat from his body. Icy pain touched every surface of his skin, stabbing, jolting, prickling sensations that were unending and unyielding. The current was strong, pulling him away from the hole in the ice as America kicked and struggled against the current, forcing his limbs to work even as numbness settled in. Smooth, rounded river rocks pounded into his spine, the current twisting and moving him every which way. America thrust his hands out to the surface, only to find the bottom of the ice to be as flat and uniform as it was on top.
Lungs burning, America moved his hands and feet to the river bottom. Within second America's right foot caught on a large flat rock that jutted out from the rocky floor. Pushing his other foot across the current to grab onto the edge of the rock, America used his legs to pull himself closer. Gaining leverage in the current, he forced his fingers into a fist and drove his right hand through the ice. A muted crack sounded under water, and gray sunlight filled his vision.
His lungs seized suddenly, and the air was forced up his throat. Air bubbles broke the surface, and water filled America's mouth and throat. Frantically waving his arms, America grabbed the edge of the hole in the ice with both hands and yanked himself upward. His face broke the surface, and he sucked in a greedy gasp of air before coughing up the water he'd involuntarily sucked down.
"Alfred, Alfred!" A voice called, sounding low pitched and drawn out, almost as if he were playing a video in slow motion. "Hold on!"
Two blurry figures entered his vision. America suddenly realized he'd left Texas on the nightstand beside his bunk.
"Don't let go!"
The taller figure stepped onto the river, crashing through the ice. The firm, strong ledge America held onto suddenly gave way, and the current went to suck America under once more before a large hand caught his wrist. Yanking him upward, he broke the surface, coughing and sputtering, weakly trying to force the water back up his throat. The blurry figure picked him up, two arms holding him up and out of the water. The frozen air bit and stung at him, causing him to feel far colder than when he was in the water. The arms shook him once, twice, before the voice returned, shouting something to the other blurry figure before turning back to him and leaning in close.
"Don't fall asleep."
"America…America."
His body felt heavy and weak. Groaning, he tilted his head back.
"Don't fall asleep." Large hands shook him. "Open your eyes."
America pursed his lips, peeled his eyelids open. The woods were gone, leaving a four-walled room behind. The room was still blurry and a tall pale man stood bent over him.
"Ca…n…can't… see." America croaked, his voice hoarse. "Wha-…?"
He pulled away and reached to the side, picking up something delicate and placing them on his face. Blinking, the room went in and out of focus, the lenses working to correct his blurry vision.
"You are in the final stages of hypothermia." The man, who America finally recognized as Russia, stated. "I have to get these wet clothes off of you."
America made a face at him and opened his mouth to speak when a groan came out instead.
"Shhh…" Russia grasped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up his chest and over his head, jerking his arms upward to peel it away. "You will not get warm with these still on."
"Mmmnn…" America made a noise, unable to form coherent speech, and raised his arms for a moment, feeling the cold, membrane like material sliding away, before letting his limbs fall into the bed. His eyes slowly fell shut, sleep welcoming him with open arms.
"America." Russia's voice again, only this time he physically shook America awake. "Don't fall asleep."
Russia's hand returned to his waist, where he unbuttoned his jeans, heavy and waterlogged still, and yanked them off. His boxers followed, and the soaking wet clothes were hung from hooks embedded in the door. America lay on the bed, feeling utterly numb and drunk, his brain not working properly. Russia covered America with a blanket and stood. Raising his hands, he unbuttoned his military coat, and pants, and pulled off his navy-blue sleeveless shirt, laying them all across his bed.
Dressed only in boxers, he lifted the blanket and crawled in bed with America, wrapped his arms around him and pulling him flush against his body. He maneuvered for a moment until America laid half on-top of him.
"I…I'm so tired." America struggled to keep his eyes open. "But…but my legs…and hands are feeling…prickly."
"Good." Russia splayed his hands over America's back. "Your brother, and Tony, are looking for hot water. When you get warm enough, you must drink it."
America nodded, having a hard time caring about it and buried his face into Russia's chest, breathing in his scent that surrounded him and filled his senses.
"I…I've never been good with the cold." America sighed, tilting his head up to peer at Russia's face. "I'm…I like the heat more."
Russia let his hands roam over America's back side, gently stroking the frozen skin.
"And I love the cold."
"But…but I thought you hated it." America said into Russia's chest. "I thought…what happened… to sunflowers?" America squeezed his eyes shut and tried forming a coherent sentence. "I-…ah…"
"Do not force yourself, America. And to answer your question…I do." Russia tilted his head down, his eye lashes brushing his cheeks as he peered at America. "But…I cannot…deal with it. Not like you…I…I like the cold. In that respect."
America only sighed, smothering his face on Russia's chest, pressing his lips and nose into the hard muscle. Russia tilted his head down and grazed his lips across America's forehead.
"I…" America hesitated and tried putting together a sentence in his mind that made sense. "I shouldn't have…gone off. By myself."
"Yes, you shouldn't have." Russia agreed.
"But…I'm not apologizing." America's muscles tingled as warmth steadily pushed away the frigid numbness. "Because…I couldn't just let him get away."
Russia wrapped his arms around America and stared at the bottom of the top bunk.
"I know."
America stared at his reflection. A tan, albeit flushed face stared back. Sweat glistened on his hairline despite the temperature inside the train averaging just below freezing. Water trickled from the faucet at the sink, the metal bowl slowly filling up. It was early in the morning, probably 4 or 5 am…, the sun had yet to rise. After spending hours tossing and turning in his bed, America finally dragged himself from sweat-ridden sheets and drug himself to the bathroom, despite the exhaustion weighing on his shoulders. Setting a cloth and soap by the faucet, America decided to give himself a sponge bath, hoping it might give him a momentary respite from the raging heat he felt from the wildfire's back home.
Two days had passed since the incident on the train. Everyone was still nervous, but luckily there were no deaths from the poisoning.
He twisted the valve shut, and the water slowed to a dripping trickle. Dipping his hands into the water, America leaned in close to the sink and lifted it to his face. The water instantly absorbed the heat from his skin, where it dripped down his chin and neck, slowly turning lukewarm, then hot. America repeated the process, sucking in a gasp at the contact before sighing at the relief.
Standing, he went to pull his shirt off when the door to the lavatory door suddenly opened. America stepped away, annoyance glazing over his face.
"Look, the room's occupied- oh." America quieted at the sight of Russia. "I…didn't wake you up when I left, did I?"
Russia only stared at him, his eyelids at half-mast, his brain still half-asleep and unable to translate coherently. His hair stuck in every direction, his clothes, only a navy-blue sleeveless shirt and red boxer shorts, were wrinkled and rumpled.
"…Right. Forgot. No English when you wake up." America cracked a smile and shut the door behind him. "If you need to use the toilet-"*
"Нет." Russia mumbled while shutting and locking the door, and leaned against the wall.
America stared at him in the mirror. "…Well if you need the sink, you'll have to wait."
Russia hummed and let his eyes roam appreciatively over America's backside. America stared at him through the mirror for a moment, and returned to his previous task, rolling his eyes all the while.
Sponge bath. Right.
Peeling his shirt off, America hung it off the tiny hooks embedded into the wall and submerged the cloth, letting it soak up the frigid water in the sink bowl. Squeezing the excess water, America pressed it to his chest and smeared the cloth over his collar bone and across either shoulder. Sighing in relief and pleasure, America dipped the cloth into the sink, squeezed, and moved down his abdomen and hips, which he couldn't help but his hips seemed a tad pudgier than what they looked like a few months ago. America stilled, his eyes widening as he forgot about Russia standing directly behind him.
…I cannot be gaining weight. He pinched at his skin that covered his hip through the cloth, feeling the skin bunching up between his fingers to be far more than how they were last time he checked. What the fuck. Seriously? I'm hardly eating anything and I'm still gaining weight?
America glared at himself in the mirror. How in the hell could Mattie eat stacks of those awesome pancakes he used to make and not gain a single pound, yet I eat them and-
His mental tirade was cut short when Russia's hands suddenly encircled his waist. America jumped, squeaking in a very undignified way, and tried turning to face the elder nation.
Russia was having none of that, as he pressed himself flush against America's back, burying his nose into America's neck.
"What are you doing?" America growled at him, his face slowly turning red as he threw the wet cloth into the sink water. "Can't you see I'm-"
Russia smirked at him through the mirror from over America's shoulder.
"…lapochka."*
America glared at him. "What did you say?"
Russia hummed and spread his fingers over America's hips and abdomen.
America gripped either side of the sink. "Don't do that."
Russia rubbed his fingers into the skin of his hips and lower belly. "…Ti krasiviy."*
You are beautiful.
America stilled, remembering the endearment from past situations. His face already flushed from the heat of the wildfires back home, it turned deep scarlet. Russia breathed across his neck, rubbing circles into his hips.
"Stop-" America whined, wriggling in his bear-like grip. "I'm dirty and ugly and I'm trying to cool off."
Russia turned his face into America's neck and nipped at the delicate skin just underneath his jawline.
"Solnishko moyo…" Russia pressed his lips to America's neck, nuzzling him affectionately. "…Ti tak zhe prekrasen seychas, kak ran'she."*
My little sun… You are as lovely now as you were before.
America sighed, recognizing just enough of the Russian to feel himself melt inwardly at the words.
Russia peppered kisses from his shoulder to his earlobe, which he licked and sucked into his mouth, rolling the globe of flesh over his tongue before licking a steady line up the shell of his ear. Kissing his way down, Russia returned to his neck, lavishing attention onto the heated skin. America shivered at the contact and kept his hands firmly planted on either side of the metal sink bowl. Russia nuzzled his neck, and kissed up and over his jawline. America turned to the side and their lips met, pressing together and relishing the texture and the odd electric mixture of fevered heat and icy cool.
Russia's hand suddenly slid away from his right hip, moving down and deeper until it groped his half-hard arousal through his stars and stripes boxers.
America moaned into the kiss, his spine stiffening at the sudden contact. Russia thrust his tongue through America's parted lips, effectively smothering the moan. His hand groped America's arousal, rubbing and squeezing and teasing it to life. His back arching, America rolled his hips forward, wanting more of the touching, the kissing, the electric sensations shooting straight to his groin. Gasping, America pulled away and bit his bottom lip. Tearing his hands from the sink, he gripped Russia's forearms and twisted around to face him.
"So…" America breathed, encircling his arms around Russia's neck. "You just came in here to molest me?"
Russia smoldered at him, his violet eyes burning holes into his head. "…I watched you writhe on your mattress all night."
"Mmm…" Heat curled in America's belly as a wicked smirk split his face. "My writhing did this to you?" America ground himself into Russia with a heated gasp.
Russia stiffened, his eyes falling shut as he breathed a quivering sigh. His hands fell away from America's hips and gripped his rear, squeezing it playfully before pulling him flush against him, their arousals brushing and rubbing against each other.
"Ahhh~…" America sighed, trying desperately to keep his voice down. "S' been too long…"
Russia hummed in agreement and lifted America off the floor with his hands still planted on his rear. America curled his legs around Russia's waist and mashed their lips together in another searing kiss. Rolling his hips forward, America ground himself against Russia, their hard arousals moving and rubbing against each other. Heated sighs and quivering gasps escaped their joined lips. His strength weakening at the rising pleasure, Russia pressed America to the wall and upon freeing a hand from his rear, snaked it between them.
America hooked his ankles at Russia's back and tightened his hold on him. Fingers slid past the elastic band at his waist and curled around him, freeing him from the confines of his boxers. Something equally hot pressed to him, and Russia squeezed them both together in his hand. America broke the lip-lock with a gasp, his head falling back as the hand squeezed and drug itself from base to tip, rubbing the weeping heads together before returning to repeat the process.
"Mmm~" America moaned softly, his breath ragged. "Iv-"
Russia silenced him with another kiss.
"Shhh~" Russia pulled away from the kiss and pressed their foreheads together. "As much as I would love to hear you moan my name…we mustn't wake the entire car up." Russia mercilessly tightened his grip on them, squeezing his fingers around their touching, weeping heads.
America stiffened and arched his back, his orgasm coming as a surprise as he moaned breathlessly. Russia pulled his hand away, America's essence coating his palm.
"No…fair." America gasped, unlinking his ankles and sliding away so he could stand on his own. "You didn't…"
Russia pressed his lips to America's in a chaste kiss before raising his palm to his lips to lick and clean his palm. America watched him and shuddered, a quiet moan escape his swollen lips. Acting on a sudden surge of boldness, America gripped Russia's shirt and reversed their positions, pushing him to the wall and kneeling before him.
"Let me take care of this."
Four Days Later/Mid-November
America shouldered his bag and took one last look at the town they spent the night in after stepping off the train. The cold air was crisp and a fresh blanket of snow covered the ground. America huddled in his jacket and several other layers of clothing. Tony stood beside him and did the same.
"Ivan's taking care of some last minute business." Canada walked up to him and re-adjusted his backpack. "We'll be leaving shortly."
"He tell you where we're headed?"
"Be-…ah…Natalia's house."
"Belarus…"America stared at him. "We'll finally be in Europe."
Canada raised an eyebrow. "Well…technically we're already in Europe, because Russia is considered to be a part of both-"*
America waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, technically…whatever."
"Alfred…" Canada sighed and rolled his eyes at his twin. "You are so infuriating."
America slung an arm around his brother's shoulders and pulled him close. "…but you'll always love, me right?"
Canada glared at him. "Don't push it."
Chuckling, America pulled away and rubbed his hands together to generate heat. "So…when we get to Natalia's house… maybe Kat will be there?"
Canada turned his gaze to the sky, the muscles of his throat working.
"…I hope so."
Mid-December
"You're sure this is a good idea?"
Russia leveled a firm stare at America.
"We are being followed. If we arrive at Natasha's home all together, they will find out where her home is."
Canada nodded in agreement. "I don't think we have a choice, Alfred." He leveled a "you know better" look at his brother. "We have to split up."
America glanced at the two of them and gave in with a sigh.
"Okay. Then we'll follow the routes you showed us, Ivan?"
Russia nodded and stood from the make-shift map he'd scratched into the dirt. The others follow suit, checking their bags, supplies and ammo clips.
"I need a box of revolver ammo, Mattie. I only got five rounds left."
Canada slid his backpack to his chest for a moment, unzipping the middle compartment and digging around until he pulled his hand away, revealing a half-empty box of ammo.
"Go easy on it, we only have one more left." Canada warned.
America reloaded his magnum and put the box in his own pack that hung from his shoulders.
"Make every shot count, got it."
Russia stepped closer to them, his left hand clenching a rifle. "I take the northern route, Canada, you take the direct route across the roads, and America-"
"Southern route." America holstered his magnum at his waist and picked up his ax. "We'll meet in a couple days?"
Russia nodded, his lips parted, but quickly snapped shut. "A couple days then." He glanced to Canada, Tony, then to America, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned and headed north.
Canada watched him leave and turned back to his twin. "Alfred, promise me you won't do anything stupid."
America rolled his eyes at him.
"I know you, Al. If you run into the invaders or something happens…promise me you won't do anything heroic or stupid or-"
America stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his brother's shoulders. Canada stood still for a moment before returning the hug, encircling his arms up and around his back. He sighed and buried his face into America's shoulder. America squeezed him, tightening his hold on his twin.
"Just… please, Al. I won't be there to drag your ass out of trouble."
America laughed and pulled away. "Oh come on-"
"Are you forgetting about me, ya fucker?" Tony glared at Canada. "I'll keep the idiot in line."
"Hey!" America glared at Tony. "I think I can take care of myself for a couple days."
Canada chuckled, shaking his head all the while. "Thank you, Tony. I think I'll sleep better knowing you're with him."
"Thanks mom."
Canada punched America's shoulder with a smirk, who punched him back in retaliation. The two stood silent for a moment, sizing each other up before America broke the silence.
"I'll be careful. I promise." America reached over and gripped his shoulder. "But that means you have to promise too."
Canada smiled. "I won't do anything you'd do."
"Mattie!" America frowned. "Come on, I'm being serious."
Canada reached up to grip America's hand on his shoulder. "You know me, Al. I'll be careful."
America hesitated, thinking it over for a moment before letting his hand fall to his side.
"Yeah…okay."
Two Days Later
Russia crouched and parted the bushes with his rifle. A clearing opened up, revealing a simple single-story house with a basement. A large shed stood connected to the home, a thick chain and padlock keeping the doors shut tight. Standing, Russia took a cautionary look about the clearing before crossing the threshold onto his sister's property. Luckily, his younger sister disliked staying in the crowded cities, preferring the quiet solitude in the country; because of this she escaped the flash relatively unharmed, save for the damage suffered from the attacks.
With daylight having long passed, only the full moon lit up the sky, its creamy light spilling across the area like spilled milk.
Spying a car sitting in the half dirt, half gravel driveway, Russia stepped up to the front door and rapt his knuckles against the door a few times. Silence passed, wind whispered through the trees and tall grasses, and halting footsteps sounded beyond the door. Whispered voices came, and after a moment, a voice filled with warning pierced the silence.
"Who's there?"
"It is Ivan Braginski. Open the door."
More voices, and the door cracked open, a gun barrel sticking out. A face appeared in the crack, and Russia tilted his head so the moonlight could shine across his face.
Brown eyes widened, the gun was pulled away and the door opened.
Lithuania stood in the doorway, a hunting rifle clutched in his hands. His clothing looked old and stitched together, which was what everyone wore now. Behind him stood Ukraine, who dropped a pitchfork, shoved Lithuania aside and flung herself to Russia, throwing her arms around him.
"Vanya!" Ukraine squeezed him for a moment before leaned away to look at her younger brother. "You're alright!"
"Yekaterina…" Russia's tiny smile curled downward. "Why wouldn't I be alright?"
"A lot has happened since you left." Lithuania exclaimed from his position in the doorway. "You should come in. The light will attract them."
Russia glanced down to his sister, who nodded in agreement. Frowning, Russia looked from Ukraine to Lithuania, his eyes slowly narrowing in suspicion.
"Where is Natasha?"
"She is in here."
Ukraine led her brother down the hallway, pausing before her door.
"There was a surprise attack… and her leg…" Ukraine threaded her fingers together nervously. "She is healing…but very slowly."
Russia swallowed and gripped the handle, twisted and opened the door. He stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind him. The room was simple, the bed not very large, but not small, sat in the center of the room. The windows were shut and the curtains pulled, candles flickered and filled the room with soft light. Belarus lay in bed with thick, bloodied bandages covering her left leg, from mid-thigh, over her knee, to mid-calf. A metal cane leaned against the end-table beside the bed.
A moment passed, and Belarus finally picked herself so she reclined against a mountain of pillows. An older dark blue dress covered her thin frame, her hair was brushed and well kept, laying in a curtain across the back of her neck.
"Vanya...ti zdes'."
Vanya...you're here.
Russia stared at the bloodied and bandaged leg. Belarus met his gaze and tried to fill in the silence.
"Ti zdorov?"
Are you in good health?
Russia swallowed and narrowed his eyes at her.
"Natasha... Kto eto sdelal?"
Natasha...Who did this?
She sat in silence, her eyes falling to the bed. Russia stepped closer to the bed, his demeanor slowly growing more intense by the second.
"Chto sluchilos'?"
What happened?
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
"Natasha…" Russia insisted, standing at the foot of her bed. "Skazhi mne, chto sluchilos'."
Tell me what happened.
Belarus sighed and turned to the side, slowly, carefully sliding off the bed. Grasping the cane in her left hand, she stood, using the cane for support.
"So mnoy vsyo v poryadke." Belarus stated with finality in her voice. "Ne bespokoisya obo mne."
I am fine. Don't worry about me.
Russia watched his younger sister limp to her door for a moment before he cross the distance between them and opening the door for her. Worry and suspicion flooded his violet-eyed gaze.
"Pozhaluista, bud' ostorozhney, Natasha."
Please be more careful, Natasha.
Lithuania helped Belarus sit on a white cotton sofa. Before the sofa stood a low-lying table, a large map of Europe stretched across its surface. To the right of the sofa sat another off-white love seat.
"So…Ivan." Lithuania started, his eyes nervous. "Did you find…?"
"I did." Russia confirmed. "America and Canada are alive, and I brought them with me."
"Alive…they're alive." Lithuania smiled momentarily, before confusion filtered into his gaze. "Where are they?"
Ukraine took a seat beside her sister, and Russia sat in the loveseat and leaned forward.
"We're been followed since we arrived in Siberia."
"Followed…?" Worry filled Ukraine's gaze. "By…by them?"
Russia nodded. "We took the Trans-Siberian railway across and discovered an agent-"
Three knocks sounded at the door. Russia stood up, motioning for the others to remain seated, picked up his rifle and exited the room and entered the main hall, stepping close to the door.
"Who is it?"
"It's Canada."
Russia cracked the door open to check, and sure enough Canada stood on the porch, the moonlight creating a halo around him. Lowering his rifle and stepping to the side, Russia let Canada in.
"Did you run into anything?" Russia asked, curious.
"No. Didn't see anything. Although I heard some gun shots to the south…" Canada frowned. "I just hope Alfred is-"
"Matthew!"
Canada looked up, and there in the main hall stood Ukraine, an impossibly huge smile on her face. Canada opened his mouth, but Ukraine didn't give him the chance to speak, as she crossed the room in three strides, flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on either cheek before locking lips. Russia left quickly, hoping to give them some privacy.
"I knew you weren't dead…I knew you were okay." Ukraine said after breaking the kiss for some much needed air. "The other's kept telling me to accept it but…but I just couldn't."
Canada smiled, wrapped his arms around her and pressed their foreheads together, relishing the physical contact.
"It's going to take more than an alien invasion to get rid of me." Canada stated with a grin. "I'm glad you're okay. I was worried about you."
Ukraine kissed him once more, and rested her head on his shoulder. "It's been hard, but I am alright."
Canada nodded and buried his nose into her shoulder, breathing in deeply. Wanting to remember how she felt and smelled and looked like and burn it into his memory. Ukraine smiled and gently pulled away, grasping his hand into her own.
"Come, let's join the others."
Canada looked torn, wishing to remain in the hall to hug and kiss her to death, but swallowed his heated feelings with a nod.
"R-right."
"After you left, things steadily got worse."
Lithuania leaned forward and motioned to the map. Canada sat on the loveseat with Russia, and the others sat on the sofa.
"The invaders started entering the Mediterranean from Africa, and coming up through the Arabian Peninsula, crossing the black sea into Europe…" Lithuania pointed to the locations on the map. "The rate of attacks have quadrupled in the past year…and at the rate we're going through munitions… we'll be having catastrophic ammunition shortages across Europe."
Russia frowned and stared at the map.
"Have you spoken to the others?"
Lithuania nodded. "I just returned earlier this morning from a secret meeting that Ludwig set up. All the nations in Europe were to attend, so we could discuss all of these…these issues so we might come up with possible solutions. You had to come, unless you were injured or otherwise unable to attend, and you didn't have to stay for the entire week. I left after a day, as I…I didn't want to leave Natasha or Katyusha alone for too long."
"And I told you that we are fine." Belarus ground out. "You should have stayed longer."
"What did they come up with?"
"Well… they proposed keeping the ammunition factories up north in the colder areas, as the invaders were less likely to discover them there. We also tackled the issues of food shortages and getting more railways up and running."
"Is there a plan for pushing back the invaders?"
"That was the last topic we talked about." Lithuania rested his elbows on his knees. "Dozens of suggestions were given, but…we weren't able to come to any agreement. The problem is that we have no intelligence on them at all. We only know a handful of locations where they have bases up and running… we don't know anything about their technology, and whether it has any weaknesses. And then there's the language barrier… we can't decipher any written language from them, and trying to make sense of their guttural speech is…just…"
Lithuania sighed and shook his head. Russia stared at the map and after a moment, slowly leaned back into the cushions.
"In my travels…Alfred, Matthew and I have discovered some…things."
The others stared at him. Canada swallowed and met their gazes.
"We know for a fact that the alien's know about us."
Ukraine gasped, Lithuania and Belarus simply held looks of surprise.
"Do they know what we look like?"
"I don't know." Canada frowned. "But…they definitely know about Alfred, Ivan and I. We've been followed since we arrived in Siberia… that's why we're arriving separately."
"What else…" Lithuania asked, his voice nervous. "Have you discovered?"
"The aliens have the ability," Russia started, his voice low. "To… take over a dead body, halt the…decaying processes after death, and control it, as if it were an extension of themselves."
The others stared at him in horror. Lithuania was the first to speak.
"This…the others must know about this. They… we could have been infiltrated at any time, the meeting…"
"Send the information along, but make sure it's with someone you trust."
Lithuania nodded and left the room.
"This is horrible…" Ukraine's eyebrows knit together in worry. "When did you find this out?"
"Alexei told us." Russia admitted softly. "He had his suspicions after seeing people acting strangely…"
"Alexei…" Belarus glanced to her older brother. "How is he?"
"He is doing well."
Belarus nodded, a tiny smile gracing her face. "As I suspected. He is strong."
Canada glanced at Belarus, then to Ukraine, who only nodded and mouthed I'll tell you later.
Lithuania returned with a folded paper in his hand.
"I'm going to the telegraph office to send this out. I'll be back in a couple hours."
Canada stood at a window that faced the front of the house. His arms were crossed over his chest and his face twisted in worry. Ukraine came up beside him and wrapped her arms around him.
"Al should've been here hours ago." Canada frowned, but returned the hug. "I hope he's alright."
"I'm sure Alfred will be here soon." Ukraine squeezed him comfortingly and gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry."
"…I hope so."
Next Chapter: The focus shifts to America, who gets ambushed by an alien patrol and discovers some startling intelligence & The group decides to head for Germany immediately to find out what happened, and the focus shifts to England and France as they attempt a daring prison escape.
Extra Notes (Once again, special thanks to silvensorrow for all the Russian translations!)
1. Hypothermia - [From wiki] "Hypothermia from exposure to cold water is not as sudden as is often believed. A person who survives the initial minute of trauma (after falling into icy water), will typically survive for more than an hour provided they don't drown. However, the ability to perform useful work (to save oneself) declines substantially after 10 minutes (as the body protectively cuts off blood flow to "non-essential" muscles)." Severe/Final Stages of Hypothermia can have the following symptoms: "…Difficulty speaking, sluggish thinking, and amnesia start to appear; inability to use hands and stumbling is also usually present. Cellular metabolic processes shut down. Below 30 °C (86 °F), the exposed skin becomes blue and puffy, muscle coordination becomes very poor, walking becomes almost impossible, and the victim exhibits incoherent/irrational behavior including terminal burrowing or even a stupor. Pulse and respiration rates decrease significantly, but fast heart rates (ventricular tachycardia, atrial fibrillation) can occur. Major organs fail. Clinical death occurs. Because of decreased cellular activity in stage 3 hypothermia, the body will actually take longer to undergo brain death. As the temperature decreases further physiological systems falter and heart rate, respiratory rate, and blood pressure all decreases. This results in an expected HR in the 30s with a temperature of 28 °C (82 °F)."
2. "…Right. Forgot. No English when you wake up." - This is more of my head canon :) When I first visited Japan for my university program, I lived with a roommate and found that when I woke up, I had a really hard time speaking Japanese. I could understand it just fine, it was just translating my response from English to Japanese in my head so early in the morning was just impossible. So I imagined Russia might be the same way :)
3. "…lapochka." - Translation/Notes from silvensorrow: "i don't know how to literally translate it, it means something like "cutie" in a very... cuddly way? this is not used very often, but some couples use it + it's cute ^^"
4. "Well…technically we're already in Europe, because Russia is considered to be a part of both-" - [From Wiki] "…Azerbaijan, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Russia and Turkey are considered part of both Europe and Asia. Armenia and Cyprus are entirely in Western Asia, but are sociopolitically European countries."