Sam-Chan: Hey y'all! It's me, Sam-Chan. Whoever's still reading this story, I thank you and give you kudos for sticking so long with me, —even though its only the fifth chapter, I haven't exactly updated frequently— it means lots to me, and hopefully, it'll mean enough to you guys for a review or two XD

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

It was hours before they had thoroughly explored the basement-level floor. They found many useful things. Such as flashlights, toothbrushes, toothpaste, canned goods (though they deeded those might be expired), towels and shampoo. Though, with all the supplies they had found, two questions still stood: What were they going to with it? And where were they going to store it?

"We could spread out a bit, right," Arthur suggested. "It couldn't be that bad."

"I don't know, Arthur." the taller of two replied. And he didn't know. Even if they expanded their base the tiniest bit, they would have a higher risk of being caught while walking in the hallway in between them. Arthur's idea really did sound great on the surface, but what about the minor details in the cracks? What happens when the cracks are breached and they grow too big to repair them? What will they do then?

"Well," Arthur interrupted his thoughts. "If you say no—couldn't we still just organize this? Just in case?"

Ivan attempted to make a comment, but quickly shut his mouth, and only nodded.

Arthur always found loopholes—somehow. Apparently.

And after they had fixed the room to their hearts' desire, they left it and headed back to their original base, where Ivan promptly sat down on his ancient cot, then laid back on its not-very-comfortable surface. Arthur sat on his own cot, not bothering to lie down as his friend did. He too, however, was bored (and a little worn out from lifting, 'cleaning' and many of things that could be described as organizing), but instead was trying to find a solution.

And find one, he did.

"Hey, Ivan. Let's play trivia, shall we?"

Well, he thought so—but, to each their own.

Ivan, bored to tears as well, accepted without questions. "Okay."

"When's my birthday?" Arthur asked.

"In April? April 23rd?"

"Yeah. Your turn."

"When's mine."

"December 30th."

Ivan smiled. "Ha, you answered that quickly."

"I know," he grinned. "What's my favorite color?"

"Red?" Ivan guessed.

"Green. Well, no—I actually have two, red and green. So, I guess you're right."

"What's mine?"

"Are you just recycling my questions?" Arthur jabbed playfully.

"Maybe." the taller man answered, his laughter threatening to burst out the corners of his smiling mouth.

"Um, creamy white or light gray?"

"Purple."

"Really?"

"Да."

"Oh, well. That was unexpected—for me, of course."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Surprisingly I'm wise, but not too clever on trivial subjects such as you are." Arthur fake frowned. It didn't last to long, as his frown then turn into a smirk—which itself, became a snort of amusement. —

"What do I say in my sleep?"

"I can cook—something similar to that."

"Sure. I believe you."

"What do I do when I think no ones looking?"

"I dunno, cry?" Arthur snickered a bit outwardly, but on the inside, he was nervous about Ivan's reaction.

"Really? You think I cry?"

"Well, I've never seen you cry, so you must do it while I'm not paying attention or something of that sort."

"Maybe," Ivan replied. "Maybe."

The awkward silence that came after practically threatened Arthur to tell what he had seen—he didn't, of course. He was so close, so close to telling Ivan something that, he felt was wrong for him to say on so many levels. Still, they couldn't exactly go on with the trivia game Arthur had suggested. There wasn't much the two knew about each other in the first place.

But, it's hard to ask questions. Questions guard the heart and mind. Arthur thought. This, didn't cease the growing uncomfortable quietness in the room, and with a barely heard sigh, Arthur did what he had vowed he wouldn't do: start breaking the barriers surrounding them.

The shorter male faked a cough. "Hey, Ivan."

"You called?" the taller of the two answered.

"Well, yes I—I think we should ask some questions and shite like that...I guess. Because, I've run out of trivia to do."

Ivan hesitated in his answer, but gave it nevertheless. "...fine."

"But, let's not if you don't want to." the acid-green eyed teen said hastily.

At this, the pale ashen blond haired teen shook his head. "I'm fine, Arthur."

"Okay, Ivan. Um—favorite ice cream?"

"Strawberry. What about you?"

"Lime," Arthur remarked. "-if you're starting to think of a British joke, don't even to use it."

"I wasn't Arthur, honest," Ivan smiled. "What's your favorite number?"

"Four. Yours?"

"Sixteen."

"What the first thing you wanted for Christmas this year?"

"Soap."

Arthur snorted. "Haha. I wanted toilet paper."

"What did you want for your birthday this year?"

"Scissors. Using your knife to cut hair isn't exactly safe. What about you?"

"My birthday has yet to come. So, I think it would not be appropriate to answer, yes?."

"Probably. Then I'll have a standard to follow."

"How many siblings do you have, Arthur?"

"Me? I...I have five. Three older brothers, and two younger ones."

"Interesting," he said, (to which the Brit rolled his eyes). "I have two sisters. One older and one younger."

"Well, what was your favorite subject at school?"

"Nothing," the taller of the two replied. "I learned all my favorite things outside of school."

"Like what?"

"That's two questions, you know."

"You're right—but, it wouldn't hurt to answer the question anyway, right?" Arthur shrugged.

"Maybe."

"Fine. Ask me a question first then."

"What's your favorite season?"

"Fall."

"Hmm," Ivan seemed to be in a daze of some sort now. "Mine is summer. But now, it seems it's always too cold to ever come anymore," he laughed bitterly. "Though, I might just not recognize—it's been a while... I still remember sometimes. Or, they could just be dreams, I suppose."

"Everything seems like a dream now, being here. Running and hiding. As if it were all in our heads."

"Mmm, hmm...сестра," Ivan's voice was slightly muffled, but Arthur was sure Ivan using a rather childlike voice. "I'm tired, сестра. Wake me up from this dream."

"Ivan? Ivan? Who are you talking about? Hello?"

He wouldn't get an answer out of his companion, for the older of the two was fast asleep now. Appearing both calm and restless in his sleep, leaving the younger to contemplate deeply on previous events, and on things that could be yet to come.

It seemed like only a few minutes, but Ivan had actually slept on for hours on hours—his body turning on its natural instincts to protect and instead focusing its attention on all the sleeping hours he had missed over the years. And when he awoke, he couldn't help but feel numb—though a pleasant numb. A soft, warm numb which gave him a sense of security.

That is, before he was brought back to reality.

"You're awake now, I see," Arthur started off ever so innocently enough. "You know you bloody scared me. I thought you were...I don't know! That something happened!"

Ivan was confused. "How long was I asleep."

Arthur mumbled something, but the taller teen couldn't quite hear it.

"Huh?"

"Four hours."

"No. H-how? No. I wouldn't."

"I know you wouldn't. But you've been on overdrive for a long while, so I'm sure your body would."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I called out your name, and shook you a few times—I did try."

Now, Ivan had shut his mouth and only nodded to what Arthur was saying. It wasn't the Brit's fault, it was his. He was the one who fell asleep. He was the one who asked so...weak. And he was pretty glad that nothing had happened to them while he slept—calling Arthur suspicious now was out of the question. He could have taken his chance when Ivan was asleep. He could have wiped him off the face of the planet, or expose their hideout to authorities on the outside.

But, he didn't.

Right?

Ivan was pretty sure he didn't. Pretty, sure. Right?

Arthur didn't betray him, right?

"Did you go outside while I slept?"

"No. That would be careless. If I got myself captured, I would only have myself to blame, you know."

"Yes. But I-"

"You overslept—by your standards, of course. We're still alive, Ivan. Don't blame yourself for things that haven't even happened."

"You make too much sense."

"And, that's bad?"

"Maybe."

Arthur snorted at the two-syllable reply, continued his activity of re-re-rereading Detective In Togas. It became quiet, yet a third time, but there wasn't a trace of malicious intentions in this uncommunicative time period, but instead a relieving span of time where both figuratively took in deep breaths, wondering why they had tried talking at all when clearly their minds told them they were lacking in skill and vocabulary for the deed.

It was safer this way. Both had concluded secretly, and so, they didn't speak, but held their tongues in the vast darkness of the room.

Much later on, however, curiosity grew on them from this span of silence, and each wondered if the other was asleep—of course, neither was, but they didn't know that.

Ivan, was actually the first to speak, with a casual: "Hey, Arthur." to which the Brit responded.

"Hmm?"

"You awake?"

"Mmm, yeah."

"Oh."

"Are you disappointed?"

"No. Just...surprised."

"Okay," he replied. "...um, Ivan."

"Yes."

"What does сестра mean?"

Ivan looked surprised. "Where did you hear that word?"

"From you," the shorter of the two answered. "I think you were talking in your sleep, because you were calling out to сестра—whoever that is or whatever that means. You said you were...tired."

"Tired? I...сестра means sister."

"So, you were sleep talking about your sister?"

"No! I don't know. I...I wasn't dreaming about her. I didn't dream at all."

"Really? Are you positive?"

"Yes. I believe so."

"Then I believe you." Arthur stated as a matter of factly. And with that, he sat up and got off the his cot, making his way to Ivan's—in which, during this time, the taller male sat up and watched him come forth.

"I'm sorry if I've been unsettling, Arthur." Ivan apologized. "My memories are... They are..."

"They are the past. You're not there anymore," Arthur said sternly. "You shouldn't be haunted by them—I won't allow it."

"But-"

"But, it doesn't really matter now, does it," Arthur with one hand reaching out to the older male. "Come on, Ivan—we've got a whole day ahead of us."

With slight hesitation, Ivan took the hand and got up off his own cot, following his friend towards the steel door.

And the two stepped out the door, wondering what their life had in store for them now.

Sam-Chan: Hehe, if anyone who reads any of my other multi-chapter fanfics is reading this, I must express my deepest apologizes for not updating any of those first *sheepish grin* (I wanted to update something, but I was being lazy about it...so I kind of decided to write of the easiest of my works first). But I swear I'll update the others—honest!

To the rest—my other dear faithful readers! I must also apologize for taking so long. Hopefully I'll be able to update this fic more frequently. Hopefully.