The more I look at this story, the more I feel that it's monotonous, and I haven't even gotten to the monotonous part yet. Ah, self-criticism...well, whatever floats your boat, anyway. You readers are the ones that really love it OR I'LL MAKE YOU LOVE IT HAHAHAA

Oh, and it seems sometimes my vivid descriptions of gore occasionally turn people's stomachs, so I'll put a little note at the tops of the super...'exciting' chapters so you can finish your lunch first. This one has mild things. Nothing to dull your appetite...or whet it, if that's your sort of thing.

Review! :D

When Switzerland woke up, he had no idea where he was. The lights were dimmed a bit, and a different tinge of color than the bright florescent lights he remembered from the other hallway.

The aliens were rushing down that hallway, and he'd shot at them, peppering the gray bodies with shot with a grim determination. Sooner rather than later, though, one bashed his rifle so the barrel was almost a V, and the bullet was trapped. And right as something jabbed his neck, his gun blew up right in his face, shrapnel embedding itself not only him, but the other aliens as well.

And then as he'd turned to do something, try and escape, lash out at the aliens, the ground seemed to open up under his feet. A dazzling ebony curtain swirled upwards out of the chasm and rolled him to the ground.

After an eternity floating between the stars, orange-amber light asserted itself here, wherever here was.

He quietly turned his head to the side, ignoring a tiny flicker of white pain in his neck, and waited for his eyes to pull his surroundings into focus. His mouth was full of a musty-flavored liquid, and he spat. The ache in his neck didn't like that, flaring bright and painful, but he was used to dealing with pain. Pain could be filed down, whittled away into small pieces that would eventually burn out. Eventually.

The Swiss nation looked back at the ceiling. The light had no source, as per usual. He wondered about the amber tone, contrary to the fluorescent white so popularized in movies. Maybe they're saving power, he thought arbitrarily. Whenever he'd had to cut power to save money, the light possessed this same quality. Peculiar.

As Switzerland lay there, musing, he became aware of something warm pinning his legs to the ground. It wasn't all that heavy of a weight, but he couldn't see it from his current position, so he tried to sit up. The sting on his neck protested loudly, and he almost retreated back to a laying-down position before gritting his teeth. Damn if I'll let a little sting get the better of me.

However, he did take a few seconds to lean against the wall with his eyes shut, waiting for the dizziness to ebb.

It's not all that different from being hungry, he told himself, and opened his eyes.

A moment's survey, and he closed them again, letting his mind absorb the harsh realities of the scene in front of him, and also wondering if he'd briefly gone insane, a trick played by the uncanny light. However, there was no way, even in insanity, that his mind would conjure up such a scene (right?), so he opened his eyes once more to the carnage.

Blood. Blood everywhere, or so it seemed at first. On the frames of the nations around him, on the floor, on his legs...because...because Liechtenstein was slumped over them, a chunk missing from her neck.

"No," he said, reaching for her and moving too quickly so black spots danced before his vision. He grabbed at her thin wrists, fingers scrabbling for a pule. Her own thin fingers were folded loosely around five or six dry pasta shells, half crushed, and one with drying blood on it. Switzerland didn't care about those, frantic fingers trying to will a pulse under his fingers. Nothing.

Nothing at all.

"No," he said again, louder, and scooped her into his arms. Such a tiny, fragile little girl...what had she done to bear the stress of being a nation? He'd sworn to protect her. Judging from the speed of blood flowing from her neck, she'd been attacked not too long ago.

If I'd just woken up a little earlier, even five minutes, I could've protected her. I am useless.

"Please don't die," he whispered to her. Of course, there was no response. The blond moved to lay her on the ground, all pain from the sting and assorted shrapnel bits forgotten in his haste. Something in her pocket crackled. It sounded like paper.

Switzerland reached for the source of the sound,, and immediately his fingers lit upon the edge of a piece of paper. With two fingers, he fished it out, and held it up to the light to see it better. On the front, it said, 'Happy Birthday, brother!', accompanied by cute sketches of small animals. In sort of a stunned horror, he recalled that his sister had gone to her room to get a surprise for him. And that was when she was taken.

So it really is my fault, he marveled, and burst into tears. Silent runnels of water ran down his face and lightly spotted hers as he pulled her into a tight embrace. And after that, there was nothing left but a numb, frozen plain. All of it eaten away. He bent to kiss her forehead, lank blond hair hanging over his eyes. Goodbye, little sister. I loved you more than you'd ever know.

And then, the smallest wisp of warm air tickled his face in the best cliche he'd ever experienced.

In the fantasy books he'd found time to read, sometimes there was a character that seemed dead, but were actually clinging to the fringe of life and death. And the hero could tell, for even if the pulse was too faint to feel, there was always that tell-tale puff of breath.

She was alive!

The frozen wasteland inside him insta-thawed, cracked open and burst into fragile green vegetation. But through his elation, a sobering thought wrapped itself around him. She may not live for much longer.

Moving urgently, he shucked his jacket (cue the wince as his shrapnel-pierced muscles stretched) and ripped it into strips, wadding one up to her neck and using another to tie it there as tight as he dare, hoping she wouldn't suffocate. He couldn't exactly put a tourniquet on it. He gently flipped her over, searching for other wounds. There was a shallow scratch cutting diagonally across her back, just deep enough to draw blood and no more. It would hurt when she woke up, but not much else would come of it. Switzerland bound it up just the same.

Satisfied that his sister was going to return to the world of the living - already that delicate pulse was trailing in stronger - he turned to himself, noting the holes in his shirt and the resulting blooms of crimson staining it.

The first piece of metal had been part of the barrel, and it was round and embedded just above his collarbone. He touched it gently, assuring himself that it didn't pierce anything vital, and then abruptly yanked it out.

More blood flowered, but the Swiss nation was already moving to the next piece, a rather large triangular fragment that must've been from the stock or another place. It didn't really matter. However, the slick material skittered under his fingers, causing sheets of pain to flood around it. It briefly out-shouted the sting before diminishing. He clenched his teeth, grinding the enamel, and managed to get a good grip and rip it out.

There was one more piece of significant size. This one was nestled just under his ribs, and it felt like it clunked against them with his every breath. It was even harder to get ahold of it, his fingers damp with blood and sweat, and after more tries than he felt like keeping track of, he gave up.

Too late Switzerland remembered some warning that he shouldn't pull out shrapnel, it would bleed more, and whatever was embedded in him was stemming it up, but the oh well, too late now mentality set in, and he forced a small, wry smile. If I'm gonna bleed to death, then that's what I'll do. Just as long as I make sure Lili is safe. He reverted back to her old nickname without even thinking of it.

The doors opened and cooler air rushed into the room. Switzerland froze, feigning unconsciousness, but the incoming aliens paid him no heed, only pausing to unceremoniously dump a pale-haired nation onto the gray floor.

The Swiss nation considered making a break for it. Spring to his feet and dart through the open doors while the aliens were still surprised. However, he dismissed the idea as soon as it came to him. There was no telling if the shrapnel had punctured anything vital, and besides, he couldn't leave his sister.

The doors closed, and the nation lying face-down on the ground groaned.

"Who are you?" asked the blond guardedly.

The nation didn't responded, and, his curiosity aroused, Switzerland crawled over to see. He sort of recognized the features. It'd probably be easier to figure out who this person is if that bruise wasn't swelling up half his face. He touched the purpling area lightly with two fingertips, and the nation moaned again. Who has pale hair that I know? There's Prussia and Russia, but they're both accounted for. There's also...Norway and Iceland. And since this one doesn't have the curl, he must be Iceland.

A bit proud of his deduction skills, the blond left Iceland's side and wrestled with the idea of bandaging the others. Normally, he was a solitary person, and would leave others to their fate, but...They'd helped him. Belarus had killed for him. Canada had scouted for him, and they'd really all come on this hare-brained rescue mission for him. He hadn't specifically told them to come, but because of him, they were here. It was the least he could do to pay them back.

"This feels wholly unnatural," he grumbled as he began wrapping cloth around one of Canada's bleeding limbs. However, closer observation surprised him. The Canadian didn't appear to be badly injured. There were scratches along his head, which he knew bled profusely, and a bruise flowering over one shoulder. But that was it. Most of the blood had sheeted down the side of his skull and saturated his arm, giving the impression that he was much worse off than he actually was. There wasn't even a reason for him to be unconscious, really...but no, because the blood he was cleaning off revealed an infinity-shaped brand. Ah.

Playing off a half-based suspicion, the Swiss nation paused and checked the others. It was true; small but vigorous bleeders, instilled with perfect precision to cause the most horrifying superficial wounds, and then sealed with a sting. You have to give them that, he admitted grudgingly. They're excellent strategists. It scared the hell out of me...but am I the only one they're trying to scare? If anything had happened while he was incapacitated, there was no way of knowing it until the others woke up.

However, there were one or two gruesome wounds. Belarus had had a line of stitches across her back, and those had split right in two. Bending closer, he managed to recognize his sister's careful, neat lines, and felt a swell of pride for her. Good job, Lili.

Of course, now it was up to him to take care of this.

It was something of an arduous task, meticulously mending every wound that looked like it could be dangerous if untreated, which was most of them. Despite the non-fatality of them, blood loss was always a danger. He'd seen worse, and had had to do worse in this past, but this was still an undesirable thing; his fingers caked in gore, streaks of blood under his eyes, left there when he rubbed them, like macabre war paint. It was hard to sew them up in the dull light, and more than once he wanted to gouge the walls until his fingernails bent backwards and tore off, but that wouldn't help anyone.

In a way, Switzerland was the best suited to the grisly task. The years of hardship he'd gone through had toughened him up, made him more used to having the jobs no one else wanted. Still, when he was finally done, he clawed at the filth that stuck to him like a second skin until his fingers too bled, desperate to remove the feeling of holding the lives of others in his hands.

"Ugh," he said, and swiped at the blood on his hands. "Don't do stupid things." He took a moment to wrap cloth around his fingertips. Hopefully, the accelerated healing of the nations would take care of his self-inflicted wounds quickly, as well as the wounds of the others.

Hopefully, Lili would wake up soon.