Aly208: OH. EM. GEE! ALL OF YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I LOVE ALL OF YOU! (Don't worry; I'm not going to become like Spain or stalk any of you). JFDKSJFLDS. Seriously, that's all I could say when I found all the reviews I got for Chapter 10. I appreciate every single person who bothers to click on this fic, and especially to all of you who are still reading this. And to everyone who reviewed about Chapter 10, I was so surprised and happy that I actually started laughing crazily. My brother even went up to me and asked if I was having a spasm. I hope all of you enjoy this chapter and thank you so much!
*Important note: I have stopped using Scotland's (Iain's) accent and decided to use correct grammar. Why? Because I sucked at it. .
~ Hetalia! ~
While Alfred was waiting (im)patiently, he felt a foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach.
No, it did most definitely feel good. He felt as if something awful just happened to Arthur and he was to blame. Apparently, the Kirkland brothers also must've felt this way because they didn't look too hot either.
"Um . . . guys?" asked Patrick, uncharacteristically unsure. The others looked at him, while a few (only Alfred) looked at him as if he was crazy. "I have this feeling that something happened. Something bad that happened to Arthur."
Alfred's eyes bulged. "Like, no way, dude! I was totally thinking the same thing."
Seamus, Iain, and Dylan all shared a look together, as if they knew something no one else knew.
"This is not good," muttered Seamus under his breath. Just by the sound of his voice you could obviously tell he wanted to pace around, but for the fact that he was in an unstable truck, he didn't dare do it.
"Huh?" asked Alfred, that confused look that he wore way too often was on again. "What are you guys talking about?"
Australia nodded, agreeing with Alfred for once. "Yeah, I have no idea what you guys are talking about either."
But the only thing Iain did was mumbled something incoherent quietly, basically for his ears only. Dylan sighed.
"Well, since both of you don't know, I should probably tell you," began Dylan hesitantly, waiting if his elder brothers were going to stop him. He continued when he was sure that they didn't object. "When Patrick has a feeling like that, that something bad is going to happen or something already happened, then he's usually right. That's how we knew how to call you, America, to ask where Arthur was."
"That's–" Australia began, but was soon interrupted by a specific loud American.
"–Creepy," finished Alfred for Australia. Australia frowned at Alfred, but it went unnoticed. Then, a light went off into Alfred's dim head.
"OMG! IGGY'S GOING TO GET HURT?" he yelled, shocking the entire truck load of nations. The driver was yelling to shut up, but like Australia's frown, it went unnoticed.
Dylan grimaced at the loud tone. "Yes, or at least that's what Patrick says."
"But then again he could be wrong," shot back Iain, cheeks tinted with a bit of red. "He's been wrong before; he could be wrong now."
Patrick looked at Iain blandly and said sarcastically, "Thanks for believing in me."
Iain was about to open his mouth to argue, but Seamus beat him to it. "We need to keep all options a consideration! Arthur could be hurt, but then again he might not be. So don't argue!"
Both Iain and Patrick took a glance at each other, and then looked away, as if agreeing with what Seamus had said.
Alfred's heart was racing, his face was pale, and he was lively, crazy, and panicked. "Wait! So Iggy might be hurt? WHY AIN'T WE ALL PANICKING?"
Dylan glared at Alfred without any indication of shyness. Alfred cowered.
Dang, even Dylan's glares are like Iggy's, thought Alfred, but it's not the same. I miss Iggy.
"'Ain't' is not a word," corrected Dylan, still holding the glare in place. "It's aren't."
Alfred felt like sobbing, not because of Dylan's glare, but because of Arthur's siblings. They were too much like Arthur! Alfred needed to get away from them.
"Oh, and to your previous questions, Iain had already answered it before," replied Seamus, as observant as ever. "Remember, Patrick could be wrong."
The fact that Patrick could be wrong didn't enter Alfred's head. He was still panicked and lively as ever, by playing all the scenarios through his head. Alfred went into shock, even more so, as he remembered something that Dylan had told him previously before they had got into the truck.
Oh my gosh, thought Alfred some more. What if what Dylan said before is true? What if Iggy's . . . What if Iggy's – oh I can't even say the 'r word!'"
" –rica?" Alfred's train of thought was disrupted. He looked at who was talking, which happened to be Dylan. Dylan looked slightly worried, but then again, it wasn't that worried.
"Y-yeah?" asked Alfred unsteadily, trying to look like he was paying attention, but gave up that idea soon after. "What d-d-did you say again?"
Dylan shot another worried glance, but it was gone as soon as it came. "Are you okay America? You don't look so good." The others nodded along with Dylan, a few that weren't even in the original conversation.
Before Alfred could answer, Yao, still holding the wok in his hand, yelled loudly, "We're here aru!"
Alfred sighed in relieve for more than one reason. Had a few hours really gone by that quickly?
Turning to Kiku, Alfred asked, "Hey Kiku, do you know what time it is?"
Kiku didn't even bat an eyelash and without looking at his watch he said, "It's 7:00 at night, Alfred-san."
Alfred went a bit – okay, it wasn't just a bit; it was full out – crazy inside. "NO WAY WE WERE ON FOR THREE HOURS!"
Other nations looked at Alfred, a few shushing him and most yelling, 'Shut up!' Wow, nations were so delightful, weren't they?
For some reason not even related to the above, Alfred had another strange thought. He decided to voice it out loud, since it was a bit of a complaint, and said to Ivan. "Wait a minute . . . Russia, why do you have some of your 'friends' here in my country?"
Ivan smiled, not a kind one, but the creepy one that says 'I'm innocent.' "Oh, Amerika, I have all of my 'friends' in every single country! That way I always have spies!"
The truck turned eerily quite, but Alfred burst. "You creepy comm–"
Clamping a hand over Alfred's mouth, Dylan said into Alfred's ear, "Russia's friends are helping us right now. Don't upset him!"
After Dylan removed his hand away, Alfred looked sheepish. Alfred didn't say anything back to Ivan, so Ivan turned away with that smile plastered on his face still.
The nations all piled out of the truck. Man, they went out like there was no tomorrow. They were all stomping out, running as well, and quite a few nations were trampled on during the stampede. It wasn't pretty.
Patrick let out a large sight when he was out, along with everyone else. "How did we make it out alive?" he asked.
Seamus straightened his back (since he originally had put his hands on his knees and was panting like crazy) and replied, "I have no idea, but I think it's a miracle."
Many nations nodded along to what Seamus had said, but not a certain American. He just smiled a cocky grin, and put an arm around Seamus's shoulders (which was very bold of him). "You guys must be out of shape! Try working out some more; it wasn't such a big deal!"
Brushing Alfred's arm off of his shoulders, Seamus merely ignored the other's comments and headed off into a very small, black shack that Alfred had not noticed before.
Alfred tried to get into the front of the crowd of nations, but Ivan was leading them in, so Alfred stayed back further. No way was Alfred going to blow this, he had to remain calm and be quiet. Be calm . . . and remain quiet. That couldn't be that hard, right?
But that proved to be hard to the obnoxious and loud nation like Alfred when he couldn't even see anything through the crowd, but he certainly heard Russian. He so desperately wanted to yell out and ask what they were saying, but then the Kirkland brothers and Australia were next to him, so he shut his mouth.
He waited patiently for ten minutes, hearing the entire conversation between Ivan and a few others, but couldn't understand a single thing. That pissed off Alfred. A lot.
But just as he was going to burst, Ivan yelled out in his heavy Russian accent, "We got the supplies!"
Every nation cheered excitedly and in happiness. No, seriously, every nation shouted. It sounded like New Year's Day in New York when they just let the giant glass ball fall. It was very, very, very, loud.
Ivan's voice over powered the noise, which had to be extremely loud, "COME UP FRONT TO GET YOUR WEAPON – I MEAN SUPPLIES!"
Since everyone was about to rush up and grab a 'supply,' Ludwig intervened and said very loudly, "IN A SINGLE AND ORDERLY FASHIONED LINE!"
The crowd was very displeased you could say. But they all listened to the scary German who could beat them and went into a single filed line, with Alfred almost being the very last.
Alfred pouted, wanting to just badly skip everyone, but he didn't because that would be 'unhero-like.'
So Alfred waited patiently again until it was his turn. It took five minutes, which wasn't that long, really, but to Alfred it was like an hour because they could be on their way rescuing Arthur and all the others. He ended up getting a regular pistol, but he wanted something much bigger.
When Alfred had went into the truck, he found out what the Kirkland brothers and Australia had got. Most had gotten guns, just like Alfred, but a few (ahem, only Iain) brought their own supply of weapon – oops, I mean 'supplies.'
Eyes were bulged when Alfred saw what Iain had exactly brought in.
"I-is that a crossbow?" asked Alfred in utter surprise and shock.
Iain only scoffed, as if it was normal to bring in a bow and arrow to beat down the people who took your little brother. "Of course it is. What did you think it was?"
"A-and is that s-s-shotgun?" Alfred asked again, terrified out of his wits because those two weren't the only things that Iain had brought with him.
Yet again, Iain scoffed. "And what's it to you?" Then Iain smirked deviously. "I thought I saw Russia with an AK-47."
Anger and justice shot through Alfred's veins. "What? No way! That's illegal! When I get a hold of that comm–!"
Dylan clamped a hand on Alfred's mouth again. "Iain, shut up! America, Iain's probably just messing around with you." Only when Alfred calmed down Dylan had let go of his hand off Alfred's mouth.
Alfred was about to yell at Iain, but he stopped right when his mouth was open, his face totally drained and white, and saw all the different types of weapons again (Alfred swears he saw a Machete). Iain smirked even wider.
Then Alfred sat back down slowly, and began to think: Mental Note – NEVER EVER get on Iain's bad side.
~ Hetalia! ~
*Another note – I would've posted this chapter earlier, but for Christmas I got a brand new laptop (REALLY AWESOME ONE) and my dad spent all yesterday and most of today to transfer everything to this new laptop. But now everything's alright!
Merry belated Christmas everyone!
