Spain's prisoner
"You…you bastard! Prussia, I'm going to kill you!" Alfred screamed, holding Arthur close he stared painfully at his lover. "Just hold on, Arthur." He put his hand over his Captain's, pressing against his bleeding eye.
"Ha! What do you plan on doing, pretty boy?" The albino grinned sourly, his crimson eyes glowing with sadistic pride and violent excitement.
Alfred looked towards him; standing straight again he faced the other with clenched fists. His blue eyes gleamed with anger and he gritted his teeth. "I'm going to kick your sorry ass!" He spat back, his feet moving swiftly as he lunged towards the grinning man full of hate and revenge.
"Turkey," Gilbert waved his hand, urging to tan man forward. "I don't have time to mess with little boys. You get to dispose of this one."
The man's smirk could be seen from under his mask as he replied. "Of course, it will be my pleasure. I can repay him for that nasty black eye he gave me before." Sadiq's fingers curled against the handle of his sword that hung lazily at his waist. The blade flew through the air at full force as he unsheathed it, the sharp edge singing in the wind. He met Alfred's speed, meeting him in the middle of the snowy field. The Turk grinned as he pushed his Arabian sword towards the younger American.
"Fuck!" The teen hissed, jumping out of the way before it could hit him and he landed messily in the freezing slush. "Too scared to fight your own battles, Gilbert!" He yelled, hastily rolling in the cold to avoid another one of the Turk's blows. He growled, bringing his legs towards him until they pressed against his chest then lengthened them again quickly when the man went to swing at him again. His feet struck the tan man's chest and caused him to stumble backwards as Alfred climb his way back on his feet, wiping the snow from his now wet clothes though his eyes never left his opponent.
"No, just taking care of the useful ones, brat!" The albino replied easily, watching with amusement how the teen had to dodge his ally's attacks. "The ones like…my dearest friend, Antonio. Wasn't it you who told me when we broke apart those years ago you would kill me?"
"Si…I did make that promise." Antonio muttered, glaring back at his former friend. His arms were wrapped around the small Italian, holding him close safely.
"Well? I believe it's your turn to try, old friend. Francis already blew his back in Turkey. Guess he just isn't as awesome as me, but of course I already knew that." He threw his pale arms out and shrugged carelessly. "How about you take a shot, hm?" he challenged, watching the Spaniard growl and tighten his grip on his underling.
"Well? Or is that twerp stopping you?"
"Shut up."
"What was that? I couldn't hear you from so far away. Guess big, conquering pirate is easy enough to be held back by some little-"
"Shut up!" Spain released the teen but quickly felt a hand on his coat.
"Spain," Romano stared up at his captain with fear in his hazel eyes. "You don't have to-" But he stopped when suddenly the Spaniard was pulling him close again and he felt the man's lips on his head.
"I do. If we don't stop him, he'll get too powerful to stop and the world will be thrown into chaos. That is the Prussian way. Kill first, show mercy never." He spoke softly into the Italian's auburn hair before he pulled himself out of Lovino's weak grip and set his eyes back towards Prussia.
"Don't turn your back on your opponent!" The albino yelled quickly, pulling the thin rope that cued the loud noise from earlier to ring through the air.
"Wha-!" Spain flew backwards, grabbing his underling again, through this time he shoved him back into the snow.
"Antonio, what the hell!" Lovino growled before staring up at his Captain that was pinning his small body down into the cold snow.
"Wow! Still as quick as ever, Antonio!" Prussia laughed as the Spaniard rolled off his underling and sat in the snow beside him, glaring darkly. "You managed to save yourself and your little underling from getting hit with a cannonball? Impressive! But I wonder how many times you can pull that little trick off!"
"Damn…" The Spanish captain muttered quietly, stumbling to his feet again he readied himself. "Lovino!"
"Y-Yes sir?"
"Stay down and stay alert."
"Yes…Captain."
Spain glared at the Prussian who gladly grinned back at his old friend. He took his hand off the rope, and advanced forward at running speed as the Spaniard did. They lunged at one another, Spain topping the other first as they both threw punches at the other.
"Matthieu," France said softly, grabbing the teen's arm. "Come on, we have to help Arthur."
"Right." The blonde agreed, moving quickly beside his captain as the Frenchman had to help him walk.
When they reached the hurt Englishman, he was no longer screaming but tears still poured down his from his good eye and he had his jaw clenched in pain as he arched his back.
"Arthur!" Francis knelt beside him, turning him so he was facing upward towards him. "Arthur, move your hand from your face. I need to see your eye."
"What do you think you can do about it, bloody frog!" The Englishman yelled painfully. "There is no eye anymore! That bullet went through it, it shot through my skull."
"You'd be dead if that's what happened, Ar-" But Francis stopped, noticing that the blood not only poured from his eye but from under his hair too. The Frenchman carefully moved the reddened hair pieces to see under them and gasped. "The bullet...it…"
"Captain? Captain, what's wrong?" Matthew was on his knees too beside them, watching the Frenchman worriedly.
"The bullet did go through him, Matthieu. Look, the blood. There's a wound here, right in front of his ear." Francis let the blood soaked hair fall back into its place.
The young Canadian stared in shock at the wound before the hair covered it again. "How lucky…if it had gone through just another inch in he would've…"
"Matthieu," Francis held Arthur carefully so he wasn't laying in the snow. "he can hear you."
Matthew looked down, seeing Arthur staring at him with his last good eye, tears and blood streaming down his face, staring as if waiting to hear the rest of his appalling sentence.
But instead of finishing it, the Canadian smiled weakly at the Brit, trying his hardest not to look as worried as he was. "He needs to stop losing so much blood, Captain." He changed the subject quickly and started to unravel one of his own bandages.
"Stop that!" Francis cried. "Don't take that off!"
"He needs it more than me and we don't have time to go in the house and look for one! This one is clean anyway, I didn't really need it. I just put it on for extra support." The blonde muttered, still working to pull of the wrap until he got it and began wrapping it around the Brit's head instead. "Arthur, please, you must move your hand. This will stop the bleeding, I promise."
The Brit stared up at them shakily before slowly his blood splattered hand fell and landed in the snow beside him.
They gasped and Canada moved quickly to cover up the gore with the cloth.
"Mon Dieu…" Francis whispered, looking away and towards the battles between Spain and Prussia as well as the one between America and Turkey.
"There," Canada smiled at his handy work. "All done, Arthur."
"Th-Thank you…Canada." He muttered softly, wiping some of the tears away slowly.
"Of course, Arthur." Canada grinned down at him, helping him sit up more.
"Russia?" Francis mumbled, peeking the curiosity of the other two. "What is Russia doing?"
The other two looked over, Arthur leaning lightly on the Frenchman for support. He'd lost a lot of blood, but he could feel the pressure the wrap put on it and knew it would help stop the blood.
"He's heading towards Lovino and Feliciano…" Matthew noted, watching the brother's hug closely, watching the others fight without noticing the Russian coming towards them. "What does he plan to do…"
They watched curiously, silent until they gasped suddenly. Feliciano cried out and grabbed onto his older brother as he moved.
"Spain!" Romano yelped, feeling the pain in his head as someone pulled his hair, forcing him to stand. "Spain, you bastard, come help me!"
"What!" Spain stopped at the sound of his underling, only to get Prussia's pale fist in his face. He landed backwards in the snow and wiped the blood from his nose. "Russia, what are you doing! You're on our side!"
"Ha! Guess not, old friend!" Prussia laughed triumphantly. "Guess he's with the awesome me now!"
"Not quite, Prussia." The tall man grinned, keeping a hold on the Italian's hair. This made the albino frown and everyone stopped, watching the Russian carefully.
"In fact…" He said, his Russian accent calm as he moved slowly. His hand stayed where it was but the other slip into his long coat, fiddling for a few moments patiently before he pulled it out again with unexpected speed. "…I can't seem to stand you." He grinned more, the pistol glaring at the Prussian before a loud bang was heard in the cold air.
"Bruder!"
Silence.
No one spoke a word.
The only movement was the snow that floated calmly to the white ground and the thud of someone hitting the ground.
"Ludwig…" Gilbert whispered before his eyes went wide and he shot from his spot, completely forgetting Spain. "Ludwig! Ludwig!" He cried loudly, falling to his knees beside the body that laid in the cold snow.
"Well," Russia grinned in surprised amusement. "That was quite unexpected. But, heroic of him, da? He jumped in the way for his dear big brother…"
"Ludwig!" Prussia shook the body, seeing the blood as it clawed at the snow and spread quickly from under the blonde's body. But he didn't stop, screaming at the body franticly.
"Bruder…"
The albino stopped, listening carefully until he heard it again.
"Bruder…" The weak German voice mumbled and the Prussian pulled him up quickly, seeing the wound in his torso but wiped the snow off his weak brother's face.
"Ludwig, you…"
"I will not allow you to be hurt… großer bruder." The German smiled though the trail of blood made a crimson river down his chin from his mouth.
"Damn you Russia…Damn you to hell!" The albino cried, holding his brother tightly he pressed a hand against his torso to try and stop his bleeding though it didn't seem to work. "I'm going to kill you!"
"Are you?" Russia pointed the pistol again carefully at the two. "This time I won't miss, da."
"Russia!"
The tall man frowned and looked away from his prey, looking boredly over towards the glaring Brit.
"Russia! This was not part of our deal! Let Romano go!"
"Ah, but it is part of our deal, Captain Kirkland." The Russian grinned over at him. "The deal was; I help you defeat Prussia, I get land in return."
"You do! You get Prussia's land! Germany's-!" England pleaded.
"But I want more than that, da. Such a small land mass will just not do as payment." Came the reply. "I want Italy as well and maybe…North America as well?" He grinned larger, obviously thinking over the idea of also owning the two giant countries.
"No!" England yelled sternly. "You get Prussia, Germany, you can have Turkey, that is it!"
"I don't think you are in a well enough state to be making the decisions, comrade." The tall man muttered, turning his pistol towards the shocked Brit.
"No!" Alfred lunged forward again, this time towards the taller Russian, forcing him to the ground. The man's gun flew from his grip and Romano's hair was released in surprise as fist after fist connected with Ivan's face. "Don't you dare touch Artie! Don't you touch him!"
Another fist.
"Don't you touch him!"
Another fist.
"Don't-!"
"Alfred!" England yelled, making the American turn to look at him, his face full of rage and anger.
"Alfred, he's already gone." The Brit told him, making the other look down at the man under him.
Russia was completely knocked out but you could still easily see the blood drip out of his large nose and the bruises showing up on his pale skin. Alfred hadn't even noticed.
The American rolled off the man, huffing as his body relaxed from the anger. He stood then, grabbing the Russian's gun from the ground and ran towards his lover, enfolding his arms around him. "They wrapped your eye…"
England smiled. "Yeah…"
While Alfred kissed the Brit's head, Antonio had run to his own young lover.
"Lovi! Lovi, are you alright!" The Spaniard fell to his knees beside him, pulling him into a tight hug.
"Y-Yeah," The Italian breathed softly, feeling his captain's long fingers trail through his hair.
"Fratello…" Feliciano pulled at his brother's arms, only to be dragged into the hug himself by the older Italian.
"It's alright, Feli. It's alright now…" He whispered softly to his brother, looking up like the rest of them when they heard a noise that caught everyone's attention.
"I'm sorry…"
They could hear the sobbing.
"I'm so sorry. Please, please help him."
"Prussia…" England muttered softly.
"Please! He's dying! He's my little bruder!" The tears were streaming down his pale face and it seemed they'd found the Prussian's weakness. "Help him…don't let my little bruder die…"
For a few moments it was silent before one of them smiled gently.
"Of course not…" Canada stood slowly, only to be grabbed by Francis.
"Matthieu, where are you going?"
"To help Ludwig. We can't just let him die, captain. I can help stop the bleeding like I did with England." He explained simply, pulling away before heading over to the Germans as quickly as he could in his limping state.
"Here," He said, kneeling on the other side of the hurt blonde than Prussia as he started to unwrap another bandage from himself. "Use this to stop the bleeding. Then, we'll need to take him and Arthur to a doctor as soon as possible."
"D-Danke…" The albino took the cloth quickly, using it as instructed as the young Canadian watched quietly.
All of them did, observing without a word.
When he was finished, Ludwig looked up at his brother and smiled warmly and a sudden wave of relaxation and love washed over the albino's face.
"Thank you so much Canada…" Gilbert voiced softly, looking up at him and noticing the blonde had a warm smile on his face.
"You're welcome, Gilbert…and Ludwig." He looked down and gave the younger German brother a smile too.
"Нет!"
They heard suddenly and they all looked up at the Russian, wobbly but standing, red faced in rage.
"You dirty American!" He hissed evilly, charging towards him. "You'll pay for that, da!"
"Al!" Canada gasped but watched the Russian fall back into the snow suddenly.
"God, that felt good." Arthur laughed, everyone looking over and noticing the Russian's pistol Alfred had carried over in his pale hand. "And I was starting to feel left out of all this, you know, with having my eye blown out and all."
Alfred grinned as his lover let go of the weapon and let his arms wrap around the smaller man, pulling him against him.
"Good job, Artie." The American said with a laugh, kissing the man's forehead gently.
"Shut up, you git." The Brit chuckled back, taking the kiss with a warm smile of his own.