New OC, activate!

Warning: Emotional stuff, angst, a physical threat, a chase, someone gets sick, others pass out, all the fun stuff.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA. I have fun manipulating their characters, though

The One That Got Away

"Oh, well hey, Pa."

Alfred felt his legs go weak and tears poured into his eyes. He was thoroughly stunned, and all he could say for a moment was, "Oh my God."

Wynston took the initiative and walked toward Alfred, throwing his arms around him. Alfred eventually did the same, hugging the boy close and crying into his shoulder. "My God, Winnie. Thank God…"

Wynston laughed, half-sobbing. "I told ya not ta call me that…"

"Wait a bloody minute." Arthur snapped. "Do you mind telling us who the hell this is?"

Alfred and Wynston separated and Alfred sniffed, clearing his throat before putting his hand on the boy's shoulder and saying, "Everyone, this is Wynston, or as you know him, Wyoming."

At this, Wynston pulled down his hood and took off his bandana, revealing a young, though knowing, face and eager hazel eyes. "Sorry for spookin' y'all. Didn't mean to. I've been tryin' ta hide my appearance and my voice ever since I escaped from them 'hounds."

Arthur frowned at his accent. He didn't like it, but at least it wasn't the dunder-headed deep southern accent. He was surprised at how deep Wynston's voice was for appearing so young. It was more gravelly and rough than the typical southern accent… but there was some knowledge behind his voice, for how else could he have survived this long? He guessed he could call it 'western', but that brought up too many memories of Alfred's idolized cowboy movies for Arthur to care for.

"Escape?" Ludwig said. "They caught you? Did they say anything alluding to where the Organization's headquarters might be?"

Wynston huffed. "And here I was thinkin' y'all be glad ta see me. Guess I was wrong… jerks." When they all stared at him, unamused, Wynston scoffed and said, "No sense of humor, eh? … Yeah, yeah I did get captured. I was with Colton and Ida at the time… don't know where they got off to, but we were separated when we were caught. I don't know what happened to 'em after that, but I haven't seen 'em since."

They all looked to Alfred to explain. "You were with Colorado and Idaho? When? Where?"

"Down near Shoshone Falls not two weeks ago. The same Bloodhound gang that caught you caught us. They said they was gonna drive us to headquarters, wherever that was… but the boss said somethin' about us being too far ta transport and bein' more trouble than we was worth. I don't know what that means, but I hope it's not what I think it is."

Alfred's breath hitched and he began rolling up his sleeves, examining his bare arms. "I… I don't see anything that would indicate that they're in trouble. I haven't felt anything either, wait… how did I not feel you?"

"I suppressed my presence. I've been workin' on it as soon as the first trouble started in the capital. And even though I knew it must be you who I was feelin', I had ta make sure. Too much freaky shit has been goin' on 'round here for me ta just walk up to ya and reveal myself."

Feliciano, meanwhile, was whimpering. "U-uh, G-Germany? It's d-dark and my wr-wrists hurt…"

"Oh, I'm sorry." Arthur said, walking over to Feliciano and taking the key out of his pocket. "I'll get these handcuffs off of everybody."

Once Matthew was free of his, he quickly walked over to Wynston and hugged him. "I knew you'd make it."

Wynston snorted. "O' course I would, Uncle Matt."

Matthew let go of him when he heard Sadiq (who had been rid of his own handcuffs) slide to the floor with a pained grunt. "Dammit… hurts…"

The Canadian knelt down next to him and pulled up his pant leg, checking his bandaged ankle. "Sit still. How long have you been bleeding like this…?"

"For… about…" Sadiq found it hard to catch his breath and he was a little dizzy. "About two hours…"

"Ai-ya," Yao said. "He needs fluids."

"Here," Ivan handed Matthew a flask.

The Canadian looked quizzically up at him. "Uh, Russia… alcohol will only make his blood run faster."

Ivan frowned. "Why must you all think that all I drink is vodka? Is water."

"Oh," Matthew said, unstoppering the flask and tipping it up to Sadiq's lips. "Th-thanks…"

That reminded Ludwig. The German turned to his brother and ordered, "East, take off your shirt."

Gilbert knew what he was asking, but feigned ignorance. "Heh, West, this is not the time for stripping…"

"Stop being a smartass, and do what I say!"

"Okay, okay! Jeez…" He took the shirt slowly off of him, wincing as the movement caused his still-marked skin to stretch. "Scheiße…"

Ludwig moved forward to check and tsked. "You've bled through your bandages."

"Dammit," Gilbert spat. "Will they ever heal? … Gott, I-I need to sit… tired…" The albino bent to do so before Ludwig could stop him, giving a startled grunt and falling face-forward. Ludwig caught him just before he hit the ground and laid him gently down.

"East?" Ludwig said, panic rising in his voice. "East? East! Don't you fuck with me now! Wake up!"

Feliciano broke into tears. "No, no, don't let him die, Germany, please don't let him die!"

"I doubt that he's dead." Arthur said, going over to him and checking the pulse in his neck. "No… he's just passed out. He's lost a lot of blood and overexerted himself."

"Che," Lovino scoffed. "At least the idiot's not blabbing about how awesome he is anymore. Damn moron deserves to be silent for a while."

Ludwig rounded on him and snatched him up by the collar, making the older Italian whimper and Feliciano cry harder. "Say that again, Lovino! Say that again and I swear, I'll make you silent!"

"Germany! Please don't hurt my fratello!" Feliciano begged.

"Go ahead," Ivan smiled cruelly, inching closer to get a better view. "In my opinion both him and Gilbert have been annoying. The arrogant ass and the whiny bitch should be made quiet for a while, da?"

"Ivan," Alfred warned. "This is not your fight. Don't escalate it."

"Oh, da?" Ivan sneered. "You mean like you do all the time, Alfred?"

"Bastard," Alfred growled, advancing toward him. They both shared a short smile, both knowing very well that neither would hurt each other but staging a fake fight to avoid the other nations becoming suspicious of them. Still, Ivan always managed to piss him off even if they were just pretending. Ivan smirked a bit, noticing the stiffness in Alfred's jaw.

Francis groaned at the tension. "Ugh, can we all not love each other? This is what happens when the world is devoid of love!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and snapped, "Stop rambling, obnoxious frog. If you had your way, everyone in the world would love each other exponentially so."

Francis leered. "And what is wrong with that, cher?"

"And why did I expect that to be your response?" Arthur feigned pondering. "Oh, yes, because you're nothing but a slimy, perverted frog!"

"Ugh…" Kiku had his arms wrapped around his stomach.

Yao gave him a worried look. "What's wrong?"

"The pipe… so confined… the fighting… my belly…" Kiku was as pale as a sheet. His throat convulsed and he gave a harsh groan as he staggered a bit down the pipe before turning his back on them and retching.

All the fighting stopped and they all watched Kiku as he righted himself and wiped his mouth, turning around with downcast eyes and a red face. "Sōrī,"

After a moment, Arthur sighed, rubbing a temple, "Okay. Enough of this quarreling. This isn't the time and, quite frankly, I couldn't give a damn about anything other than getting the hell away from that bunker."

"Agreed," Ludwig chimed in, positioning his unconscious brother so that he was sitting up against the curved wall of the pipe. "We need to leave here. They could double back and look more thoroughly when they do not find us."

"H-hai…" Kiku stuttered, walking back over to join them, though standing a bit further off than before. He looked at Wynston. "Where does this pipe lead?"

"A small lake." Wynston answered. "There's a river goin' off from it. We can follow it out of Yellowstone."

"We're still in Yellowstone?" Feliciano asked, eyes wide. "Ve~! It's so big!"

Francis sighed lecherously. "If only I could hear you say that under different circumstances…"

Arthur rounded on Francis. "Shut it, frog, or I just might not be there to save your arse again!"

"Shh!" Matthew hissed, still crouched beside Sadiq. "They might hear you. This pipe amplifies sound!"

Arthur was about to chew Francis out in a quieter voice when they heard mens' voices around the mouth of the pipe outside. They all froze and looked in that direction. A few more moments passed before the sound of boots sloshing through the water echoed back to them.

Alfred immediately turned around and snatched Wynston up by the arm, pushing him ahead of him. When the cowboy looked back quizzically, Alfred muttered, "Get moving. You're our guide!"

Wynston nodded and started off, motioning for them to follow. Ludwig bent down and hefted his brother onto his back, wrapping Gilbert's slack arms around his neck and holding his legs as he carried him further down the pipe. And the goddamn albino was heavy. What the hell had Gilbert been eating in these lean times anyway? Not that he wasn't grateful—it was one less stomach to fill. The feel of Gilbert's heart beating against his back reassured Ludwig that he was still alive.

Matthew, meanwhile, pulled Sadiq to his feet—well, foot—struggling to move him along. Eventually, Francis came to join them, wrapping one of Sadiq's arms around his shoulders and both helping him hobble along down the pipe.

Yao followed closely beside Kiku, who was looking faint again. He held onto his shoulder to steady the younger nation. Lovino and Feliciano were somewhere in front; the older Italian, still shaken from his earlier encounter with Ludwig, clinging to Feliciano, who was whimpering.

Arthur, Ivan, and Alfred brought up the rear. It was pitch dark, so they had to hold onto each other in order to know where they all were. Ivan and Arthur had their arms closest to the wall stretched out, feeling the damp length of the pipe, however slimy and gross it was. They couldn't afford to run into walls now. Alfred walked in the middle of them, his left hand holding Arthur's and his right snagging Ivan's. The Russian seemed to startle when he felt Alfred's touch, but within moments he had intertwined their fingers and squeezed reassuringly. On the other side of Alfred, Arthur did the same with the hand in his own. Two of the men he loved the most both holding his hands, one oblivious to the fact that the other mattered so much to the American. It was so weird!

"It's all right," Arthur muttered. "We'll make it out, if Wynston proves to have a better sense of direction than you do." Even though Alfred couldn't see him, he knew Arthur was smirking.

Alfred gave him a playful shove. Not expecting it (and blind in the first place), Arthur stumbled, his shoes scraping against the floor and disturbing the water as he tried to catch himself on the wall. The whole procession stopped, fearing it was the men.

Finally, Arthur whispered harshly, "It's me, you daft blighters! Now move!"

Just as the words were out of his mouth, splashing could be heard farther down the tunnel as men ran to catch up to them, alerted to their presence. The flicker of several flashlights lit up the walls behind them.

Arthur tugged Alfred's hand, running with the rest of the group. Ivan did the same, though more roughly so, and the American quickly found his arms aching with the effort to keep up with their uneven strides. He eventually snatched his hands back, one going to slip out his handgun from its holster just in case. Beside him, Arthur slipped out his pistol and cocked it, not caring about the sound now that the Bloodhounds already knew they were there. Ivan parted his coat and took out his AK-47, loading it as he ran.

The tunnel was straight for a while, causing them to be spotted quicker. Alfred could practically feel the flashlights bounce off his back as they were shone on them in a flurry of harsh beams. All at once, the men behind them uttered excited cries, speeding up, forcing the nations to pick up their pace as well.

Finally, the pipe curved, and the flashlights disappeared for a few seconds when they rounded the corner. Not long after, they came at a fork in the tunnel, and, having already been flustered and pressed for time by the men fast approaching behind them (and barely being able to see for the dim light), they all went in different directions, some to the right and some to left. Arthur didn't even know he was separated from Alfred until he reached over to grab his arm, finding only empty air where the appendage should have been.

"Alfred?" Arthur whispered. He could hear other nations running beside him, but they were too fearful to answer. "Alfred?" Arthur said a little louder, and someone came running up close to him. The Briton reached out again, groping in the dark before finally snagging an arm.

The other man flinched, and snatched his arm away. "Let go of me, dammit!"

"Lovino?" Arthur asked, and the older Italian gave a 'hmph' in answer, Feliciano clearly heard whimpering alongside him. Arthur grabbed a hold of his arm again, not caring when Lovino growled and tried to get away. "Where's Alfred? Have you seen him?"

"I can't exactly see anything in this dark-ass pipe, now can I?" Lovino snarled and wrenched himself free.

"Did you hear him?"

"No, dammit. Now stop asking questions and run!"

"Oh God," Arthur now remembered. There were two ways to be taken, and now it occurred to him that Alfred must have taken the other way, the blockheaded git. "The other tunnel at the fork. How many of the others took it, do you suppose?"

Lovino puffed as he ran, dragging Feliciano along beside him. "I don't know, dammit!" Although his tone was aggressive, there was a tremor of fear in his voice.

Behind them, the Bloodhound men raced after them, flashlights once again seeking them out. Arthur picked up his pace then and took down who he saw: Lovino and Feliciano were obviously there with him. Up ahead a few paces was Sadiq, flanked on either side by Francis and Matthew, who were helping him hurriedly along. At the front of the group was Wynston. Arthur scanned his eyes all around the tunnel, even chancing a glance behind him, to check if those were all who took this part of the pipe and found out that no one else but them and the men pursuing them were present.

Arthur felt his heart start to pound, if it wasn't pounding hard already. Dammit, Alfred! He knew he should have microchipped the younger nation when the technology was available, but no, he was afraid it would intrude on Alfred's private life. Damn the considerate gentleman part of him.

No translations

A Word From the Writer: Two roads diverged in a yellow wood... Yeah, right, like I would ever let that happen! They certainly won't like tunnels anymore after this, that's for sure... if they don't get caught again. Muhaha.