CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Let's Get Ready to Rumble

Oliver skipped ahead of the others, being jolly as usual and ignoring the complaints coming from Allan. It would seem that none of them were extremely excited for the task ahead of them. They were unwillingly volunteered to go and rescue Luciano from their counterparts, a role everyone else refused to take. So there they were, walking down the barren streets as quietly as they could. It was cold outside, so few were around. This worked out perfectly for them, since they didn't want to draw any attention to themselves. They had departed later than expected, it was barely four in the morning when they left and it would be five soon. They needed to get in and get out before sunrise, the nightfall providing them much needed stealth.

The only reason they left so late was purely out of the fact that no one wanted to go out of their way to rescue Luciano. After bickering, yelling, and threatening repetitively Andrew finally settled it that he would go with the rest of his 'family'. Though Allan hated that idea greatly, he reluctantly joined in when Oliver dragged him along.

But he didn't seem to stop cursing for most of the trip, something that Oliver had grown to ignore, with Andrew and Jean not being as lucky. The three were 'talking' to each other, trying their best to keep their voices lowered. They needed to have the element of surprise which, for the most part, they already gained.

The plan, though it had been developed on the spot, was to simply divide up into two teams and enter the World Building via separate entrances. They would then search their section of the building, until discovering Luciano's location, all along the way they were to eliminate or subdue any enemies they encounter. Once Luciano was found, the teams would regroup and escort him out. If everything went as planned, then they should be in and out before sunrise, on schedule. But that's only if the plan were to work out. Otherwise they would have to wing it, which is likely what they would do in the end.

The World Building was just around the corner, giving them barely enough time to make last minute changes and agreements. Oliver and Allan were to go in through the back, Jean and Andrew through the front. Jean would wait behind with Andrew until they knew the two others were in.

Oliver and Allan were going in as distractions to hold off anyone wandering the hallways, Jean and Andrew were the extraction team. Their job was to get in and out with Luciano, taking down anyone in their way. But all and all, it was really just down to which team found him first.

The four stopped next to a bush and quickly ducked down. They were right in front of the World Building. Trying to avoid being under rays of light, Oliver and Allan rush off towards the back without warning. Their backs disappeared before anyone could stop them, forcing the other two to simply hope they make it there okay and wait.

Allan stopped abruptly, causing Oliver to softly collide with the other's back. "You should go first." He said in a hushed voice. Oliver peered in front of him and saw that the shadow of someone was visible in the window. "You're smaller than me, you have a better chance of sneaking through than I do. And if they see you, I'll be there to back you up." Understanding his reasons, Oliver nodded and then zipped past him towards the door.

Stopping a few feet from it, he peaked through the small window near the top of it to see if there really was anyone in the hall. To his surprise, the hall was barren. Empty. But he would've sworn he had seen someone inside before, as did Allan.

He figured it a play on his mind and opened the door, stepping inside quietly. Whether or not they're on the move, there is someone. No one would simply leave Luciano on his own, if they did they were truly mad. Creeping around corners, Oliver peaked into every room he passed. For the most part they were worthless, taking the appearance of offices or storage rooms.

If Luciano was locked in one of those, he couldn't tell. Moving on and on, he stopped in front of the men's restroom. He sat there and thought for a moment, should he really waste his time checking the stalls?

But it would seem that he didn't have much time to think it over as a figure opened the bathroom door without warning. Oliver jumped back, barely avoiding the heavy door, but quickly wishing he had hidden instead. The figure that had nearly knocked Oliver unconscious with the rim of the bathroom door turned to the left to see what the commotion was.

Their heart nearly skipped a beat when they found themselves face to face with the cupcake maniac. Neither of them moved, just stared at each other eye-to-eye without a word. Oliver didn't know what to do or how to react, since he wasn't used to situations as awkward as this. He had blown his cover in the worst possible way he could have.

The other stared at him, an over sized eyebrow twitching slightly. Arthur knew exactly who this guy was. He was a Two-P. His Two-P. Someone he didn't expect to run into outside of a public restroom. Though, he probably should've expected such a thing. Allowing Luciano a chance to speak on the phone was probably one of their biggest mistakes yet. Their enemies knew their location, where he was held, and that he wasn't dead. Not that they would kill him in general, but it would've at least put them on the edge.

Arthur needed to get rid of this guy, fast. He was his counterpart, so he wouldn't die in this case. But he would be able to get rid of him, one less to worry about. Without a sense of hesitation, Arthur reached for the holster at his hip. He had brought his gun along with him after receiving the call from Ludwig the previous day.

He didn't know if he would need it, he hoped he wouldn't need it. But, as they always say, it's better to be safe than sorry. And in this case, it was true. Arthur didn't know the full extent of his opposite's power. All he could assume was that he was just as dangerous as the rest of them, and needed to be dealt with swiftly and efficiently.

He gripped the end of his pistol and pulled it out, raising it to the other's head. Oliver had no time to react, barely even realizing what the movement meant. All he could do was close his eyes and wait for the sound of the gun to go off.

But it didn't

Instead, Arthur felt something heavy slam into his right arm, the one that gripped the pistol. It fell from his hand as his body collided with the wall, crushed between two objects, one of which was undefined. Arthur slid down the wall and onto the floor as the attacker stepped back.

"You okay Oliver?" Allan asked, a small bit of worry lingering in his tone. "Yup!" The other replied jollily. The two looked down at Arthur who was already recovering from the attack. "Bloody hell..." He muttered, shaking his head slightly to get rid of the dizziness he was encountering. When he looked up he felt his stomach churn.

There was another Two-P. And this one just so happened to resemble Alfred. Which, unfortunately for Arthur, meant he was likely just as strong. The look-alike smiled as he revealed a spike baseball bat, the tip stained with dried blood. "Time to play."

Alfred and Kiku had both heard the collision in the hallways and both jumped up in synchronization. "I'll go check it out. You stay here." Alfred had said, rushing off without gaining any form of reply. This left Kiku standing there, a near emotionless face but worry noted in his eyes. He heard laughter behind him and shut his eyes.

Luciano knew what was going on, which just seemed to make their situation even worse than before. "Looks like they're here~" He said in a sing-song tone. It angered Kiku but he refused to show it. He couldn't. Kiku reached for his sheathe that was placed on the table rather than at his hip. He leaned over towards it once it was within inches of his fingers, and he gripped it tightly.

He hoped he wouldn't have to fight, he was still recovering from the previous fight from Kuro, but he had to protect himself and the others if it came down to such a thing. He didn't want to end up as such a burden, he didn't want Arthur and Alfred to have to go out of their way to make sure he doesn't get hurt. He couldn't be dead weight. He refused to be. The door opened again, and Kiku turned around, hoping to see the two returning without any signs of alarm going off. But the odds just weren't on his side.

The Frenchmen stepped into the room, welding a rapier in his dominant hand and eyeing the Japanese man guarding the hostage. "I told you little Kiku~" Luciano said, playfulness in his voice as he swung his legs around in the air for no particular reason. Jean looked between the two, first at Luciano and then Kiku.

"This is Kiku?" He said, pointing the sword in the other man's general direction. Luciano nodded.

"Sì, isn't he cute?" A faint blush appeared on Kiku's cheeks and Jean rolled his eyes. There was the Luciano he hated so much. He was glad it was only a ploy and didn't mean anything literal, but he could always make it seem like it did. For the worse of the Italian himself, of course.

"I don't have time to chat, so let's get this over with." Jean said, getting into a defensive stance, Kiku following suit and readying himself with his katana. Luciano leaned back in the chair, the two front legs just barely lifting off of the ground. He was given a front row seat to a show, and he wasn't about to let it go to waste.

Alfred had blindly rushed out into the hallway, not even taking a moment to note his surroundings. He just turned to his right, searching for Arthur. He had wandered off towards the bathroom, which is where he'd likely be. Alfred just hoped he was safe. He bolted down the hallway to the source of the sound and sure enough, there he was.

Arthur, but he was fighting two figures that were shockingly familiar. Alfred had to bite back a surprised yelp when he saw their faces. They were them. Their counterparts, someone he had hoped to avoid till the very end. They were fighting Arthur mercilessly, one with a knife and the other a nailed bat.

Alfred had to help him, even if he wasn't able to take both of them on he would at least lift a load from Arthur's shoulders. But he couldn't reach him, he wasn't given the chance. A hockey stick banged into the wall next to his head, causing Alfred to tumble forward, out of both reaction and attempt to avoid any blows. After regaining his footing completely, he turned to face his opponent.

His heart skipped a beat as he realized who decided to pick a fight with him. They were tall with broad shoulders, long blonde hair, and wore the uniform of a Mountie aided with heavily tinted shades. Their weapon of choice; a hockey stick with barbed wire wrapped around the end.

It didn't take a genius to figure out who this guy was. Alfred's best guess, his brother's counterpart. And this guy was huge, a good couple of inches taller than himself. Alfred didn't know how he was expected to take him on, but he couldn't step down now. He was the hero after all. And heroes don't give up. But a major downfall was purely the fact that he didn't seem to have a weapon. He didn't bother to bring one, specifically because he didn't expect to encounter anyone so quickly after arriving.

He knew he would have to trust his conscious and hope his reaction time hadn't died down over the past couple of years, though he doubted it. The attacker lowered the hockey stick slightly and peered at him behind his sunglasses.

"Whatcha name kid?" He asked blandly. Alfred, being rather insulted by the fact that he had been demoted a couple of age groups, replied back quickly.

"Hey, I'm not a kid! Who the heck are you?!" The Canadian snickered, entertained. He slumped the stick over his shoulder.

"Sure... and I asked you first bub." Alfred sighed, how could this guy not know him?

"I'm Alfred, Alfred F. Jones. I'm the-"

"Hero, I'd assume?" He cut off the 'hero' after having a relatively good guess in mind. Alfred stared at him, confusion obvious.

"How do you know if you didn't even know my name?" The other shrugged, not really caring to explain his brother's obsession with being the bad guy.

"My brother over there," He said, pointing over Alfred's shoulder. "is the self-proclaimed villain. Putting two and two together, it made sense in the end."

Alfred thought over the whole thing and figured it did seem to be logical enough.

"I'm Andrew Williams just so ya know. Guess we might as well know before we rip each other's heads off. ." Alfred nodded and then raised his fists. It would seem that was all he had for this fight, at least until he figured something else out. And he didn't want to kill Andrew since, if Arthur's theory was true, then that would also kill his brother. He couldn't allow that to happen. Aside from the fact that they were brothers after all, Matthew's Cuban friend would probably try and beat the crap out of Alfred.

Alfred made the terrible mistake of leading his mind elsewhere, being oblivious to his attacker. Andrew noticed this and sighed disapprovingly. It would seem that this moron wasn't taking the fight serious enough, or is just extremely absent-minded. Not wanting to waste this advantage, Andrew gripped his hockey stick and raised it behind his head.

He brought it down, the sound of it cutting through the air breaking Alfred out of his mindless trance and back to reality. He dodged to the side just in time, the bottom of the stick bouncing off of the ground via impact.

"Nice try." Alfred said, a smile on his face. "But you can't beat the hero that easily!" Andrew smiled. This guy seemed to be overestimating himself by a lot, acting as if this would be a simple walk in the park for him. But he didn't realize the ride he was in for.

The sound of clashing steel echoed against the walls in the room as Kiku fought back Jean. Kiku had to admit, he was strong, skilled, and persistent. A good warrior for sure, and he only wished he could compare it to his universe's version of France.

The two had never really fought before, at least sword-by-sword. This was an interesting experience, and he might of appreciated it if he wasn't fighting for his life. Jean knew he was hurt, after all, and was using that to his own advantage.

As the two continued to collide with steel, Luciano watched from the sidelines, a serious look on his face. He was examining them, scanning their every movements and figuring out their fighting techniques. He didn't know if he would need to use this knowledge in the future, but he would prefer to have it now than later. As he watched he pointed out multiple weaknesses and strengths each of them had in their current conditions. Kiku was swift and fast, but he found it hard to avoid multiple repetitive attacks in succession, such as the series of jabs Jean often erupted with at certain points in time.

As for Jean, he wasn't as fast but he was just as efficient. He made sure that every strike counted, even if they didn't meet their mark. But he had a major blind spot. It seemed attacks that occurred to the left of him he reacted slower to, he couldn't see as well on that side as he did the other. Luciano didn't recall ever knowing that before hand, and he made sure to create a mental note, just in case that came in handy for one of his companions.

Luciano ducked down as a piece of debris flew above his head. He cursed as he realized he was within range of any objects they ran into. So far they had managed to tip over one of the cabinets, a couple of vases, and a lamp. It was only so long until they started throwing objects on purpose, purely to either tick him off or hurt him 'accidentally'. It was bound to happen, it was just a matter of being prepared for it that Luciano might not be able to accomplish. He needed to get out of these damn bindings.

They were restraining his movement and stopping him from getting his hands on Kiku. Though he did like Kiku a lot more than he liked Kuro, he seemed to be the only thing that Luciano could use to manipulate his enemy.

To torment him.

He was sure that if Kuro saw Kiku suffering then he would snap under everything. Kuro was supposed to be his guardian, and by doing that it would seem that every oath he took and every promise he made would be broken in mere seconds.

Luciano smiled at the thought of it, but broke away once he ducked under another flying object. This time it was a book, which there were plenty of. And he knew that someone had thrown that, for sure. He just didn't know who.

He would of questioned it if he cared enough to. They probably wouldn't listen to him anyway. They were too heated in their battle.

Luciano began to tug on the bindings. The knot was at his back and the ropes were tight, but if he can just barely slip one of his arms out, then he might be able to reach it. Or a weapon.

The fools hadn't patted him down that well, he wore thick clothes for a reason. He always had a knife, hidden away and out of sight. They had confiscated a couple previously, but those weren't the ones he cared enough about. The one he did, his good knife, was hidden at the bottom of his boot, under his foot, tapped to the base so it couldn't be taken out without reaching inside. And doing so would likely result in yourself behing cut.

Luciano tugged and pulled, trying to free one of his arms or loosen the ropes. He was happy when he felt his arm move a bit more freely. His left arm started to push up a bit, slowly being freed. Luciano realized the struggle he would endure trying to completely free it, but he was willing to go through it if he meant that he would be able to jump into the fight as well.

His blood lust was increasing after all.

Alfred found himself in an intense fight not long afterwards. This guy was big, tough, and faster than he expected. This put him at a great disadvantage, but he still refused to give up. He needed to make sure that he did his part so the others were able to do theirs. So he fought with his bare fists, recalling the moves he learned in all of those boxing classes he used to attend in his free time. That was before he got a bit more into mixed martial arts, courtesy of Yao and Kiku. Those were both pieces of his past that he won't soon forget and he knew would help him greatly.

Alfred got into a fighting stance, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He needed to match the strength and speed of his opponent in order to have a fair enough chance, weapon or no weapon.

He needed to be smart.

Andrew swung his hockey stick horizontally across. The attack reached far, but not far enough. Alfred quickly stepped back, his hand reached out and grazing the very back of the stick, but avoiding the barbed wire. With one quick push he forced it to hit the wall with a heavy impact. That, catching his opponent off balanced, allowed Alfred to dash forward and land a quick jab-cross combo, before dashing back and out of range of any counters.

Andrew didn't see this attack coming but recovered quickly, this guy seemed to know how to stand his ground, so he 'ought to as well. But then he realized something and stepped back, removing himself from the defensive stance he was in. "You know what, let's make this more interesting." He said with a smirk. Alfred eyed him suspiciously, stopping the bounce he had been in to watch his opponent.

Andrew threw his hockey stick to the side and unbuttoned his jacket. Underneath was a red and black plaid button-up shirt. "We might as well have a fair fight eh?" He asked as he dropped his jacket next to his hockey stick.

Alfred smiled. This guy seemed a lot more fair than the Two-Ps he had encountered, which allowed his amount of respect for him to increase greatly. "Sure, let's do this." He said, smiling. Andrew held a fist out, Alfred quickly bumping it. He felt like he was in a boxing match, fighting against one of the strongest opponent out there. But it was a fair match, one where the two respected each other with an equal amount and wanted to do it right. They wanted the best man to win. But unlike most matches, this one had no rules and no referee to call time when enough damage is done. This was simply, beat the other guy into Oblivion or die trying.

The two started circling each other, never removing their eyes from the others but never advancing either. It wasn't until Andrew decided to make the first move. He jolted forward without warning and started it off with a quick reversed punch, it's target, his jaw. Alfred saw it at the last moment and reacted as required.

He brought up his two arms, connecting them together and blocking the attack just in time. His eyes peered over the walls he created to see that Andrew had backed off. Alfred lowered the guard and got ready to fight back.

A quick faked jab forced Andrew to bring up his hand, likely to evade and counter. Alfred smiled, he already realized this guy's tactics. He was all about attacking, getting them open and attacking. He wanted to dominate this match no matter what, stick Alfred in the defensive and then strike when he expects it least. Alfred couldn't allow this to happen. He needed to be aggressive as well, if he planned to stick around for much longer.

Stopping the bounce and sticking his stance, he lent forward and jabbed, but it was also another fake. One of which Andrew fell for. He raised his left arm, preparing to push the jab away. One that never came. His abdomen was left open, which is exactly what Alfred wanted.

Finding it a valid target, he quickly reacted to the small opening he was given. A powerful punch landed there, forcing Andrew back slightly. But Alfred didn't let up, he continued pounding in that one area. Andrew attempted to block but when he did Alfred would raise his attacks to his face, then back to his stomach, in repetitive succession. It wasn't until Alfred found himself lost in the moment that he fell victim to his own tricks.

While being attacked in his stomach area, Andrew raised his right arm and committed a powerful hook. It struck the side of the American's head, catching him off guard completely and sending him spiraling into the wall.

He banged into it and unintentionally fell forward. Andrew continued attacking, aiming specifically for the head. Alfred blocked left and right, eventually bringing up his arms, to avoid attacks that seemed to never stop coming. He lowered his head behind the barrier he had created, stopping him from seeing most things but also causing the least amount of damage.

Andrew smiled.

Now he was the one in control. And Alfred had done the only thing Andrew wanted him to do. With one swift movement, Andrew brought down his right arm before springing it back up in a powerful uppercut.

It cut between the two arms and Alfred's head snapped back as blood spurted from his nose and down his face. He fell back, glasses landing next to him as he hit the floor with a thump. He cursed under his breath, no way he could simply recover from a blow like that. It was stronger than he had ever thought he could be hit with, and it left him dizzy and a tad nauseous.

So he laid there, thinking about what he had just done. He literally allowed the exact thing he said he wouldn't allow to happen, happen. He was a fool, and ended up waiting for the final blow to finally come and kill him.

But it didn't come.

"Good fight." Andrew said, kneeling in front of him.

"I won't kill you. Simply because you were a worthy opponent, one that rightfully deserves a rematch. I'll be looking forward to one." With that he stood up and walked over to his jacket and hockey stick, leaving a dazed and confused American behind in the dust.

The fight started soon after. Arthur dodged both blunt and sharpened weapons at the same time. It was hard to do but he managed. He needed to get to his pistol, and fast. Who knows how long he will be able to hold them off. He did take note that Alfred had tried to help him, probably to amp up his hero reputation a bit more.

But it turned out he got sidetracked by an opponent of his own, leaving Arthur to face two without help. He could always go to Kiku, but he couldn't force him into another fight. He wouldn't. Kiku had enough problems on hand, he didn't want to give him more.

Arthur ducked down from another strike from the bat welding menace. The tip crashes into the wall, chips of paint flying off and the darker wood being exposed behind it. There was power behind each and every one of those strikes, adding to the Arthur's list of good reasons why he shouldn't get in the way of that weapon and it's target, unless that target happens to be himself. Then he has all right to avoid it and save his hide.

And then of course there was his Two-P. The one that decided to bring a knife with him. And despite his nice and cheery personality, he was a true psychopath.

But he was also cunning and quick. He knew how to use that knife of his, and he knew how to use it right. He never went for vital organs, he always went after his legs. Likely to slow him down so him or his partner can have the final blow and he would be one less worry for them. But, if his concept was true, then that means his Two-P would die as well.

Something they likely don't know or understand yet. He could, possibly, explain it to them. Maybe it would make them reconsider their attack. Or push on even harder than before, he didn't know how many people held grudges against his other self. Arthur's opposite jabbed the knife again, aiming for his lower thigh or knee. One or the other, it didn't matter to Arthur. He had a bit of an idea, though it was risky, it might work if he reacted at the right moment and moved at the right time. If he did, he would finally have the upper hand.

At the very last second, Arthur sidesteps the attack. As he expected, his opponent had put large amounts of force behind the thrust, as Arthur had moved at the very last possible moment. The strawberry blonde stepped forward to stop himself from tumbling, but this is exactly what Arthur wanted.

He reached out and grabbed the wrist that held the knife in it. Holding onto it tight, he jumped behind the other's back and brought the arm with him. Without letting go he used his other arm and placed it on the square of his back. He forced the other forward while pulling the other arm back, completing the armlock in a painful manner.

The American stopped in his tracks, eyes widening as he realized the full extent of the situation. Oliver was in a painful situation with their enemy, their opponent. He didn't know how to get him out in the less painful way. He hated it when Oliver got hurt, though he could be annoying and rather clingy, he still hated to see the poor guy in pain.

Instinctively, Allan lowered his weapon and glared at Arthur, eyes full of hatred. "Alright you bastard, I'll back down." He said through gritted teeth, lowering the bloodied and bent weapon towards the ground. "Drop it." Arthur ordered, increasing the deepness of the lock. Oliver cried out a bit, eyes shut tight. His arm felt like it would outright fall off, something he didn't want to fall victim to.

The sudden scream was enough for Allan to throw the weapon to his right and then to step back. He raised both of his hands up as he stepped back a good couple of feet, and then fell onto his knees. His hands were placed behind him as if he was waiting to be handcuffed.

Half convinced, Arthur loosened the arm just enough so his current hostage could at least walk. He pushed Oliver forward, who shuffled his feet across the ground. He bent down and picked the knife off of the ground. It had fallen from the other's grip without his notice, but it didn't matter. He was armed and his Two-P wasn't.

Luciano didn't know how in the hell he managed to pull his arm out, it just happened. He got that sucker free and took off his boot. After momentarily struggling, he grabbed his knife and began to cut the ropes. Kiku was oblivious to all of this, likely because Jean kept him distracted.

The Frenchmen refused to let up. His attacks continued on and on, Kiku seeming to never catch up on the blind spot that he had. This helped Jean out greatly, since he quickly noticed his. Kiku was often backed into walls, ducking out of the way of the jabbed attacks that left holes in the wood and wallpaper.

"Stand still damn it!" Jean yelled as he struck diagonally once more, in a quick attempt to try to take out one of his ankles. Kiku quickly recovered and began walking back, making sure to avoid the attack and to not remove his eyes from his enemy. Jean stood there, puzzling Kiku. Why is he refusing to charge me like he always does? Is he growing tired? He questioned silently. But then he realized why Jean was keeping his distance. Kiku found himself backing into a solid object.

One that placed a knife to his neck. Kiku let out a surprised yelp as the cold steel grazed his skin. "Look what I caught." Luciano purred, pulling Kiku's head back harshly by his hair. The other bit his lip to stop himself from crying out in any form. Luciano didn't waste much time playing around, instead kicking out his legs and forcing him onto his knees. He quickly gripped the Katana in his free hand and pushed it to the side, Jean grabbing it off of the ground. "What should we do with him?" Luciano asked, heavily interested.

Jean eyed the Italian suspiciously. "I know what you're thinking Luciano, and I don't like it. I have another idea, follow me." Luciano frowned as he pulled Kiku onto his feet. He would love to have his way with 'defenseless little Kiku' but business was business. And he was supposed to be getting the hell out of there ASAP.

Jean lead them into the hallways, where two fights were taking place separately. Jean forced Kiku forward and onto his knees again, whistling to draw everyone's attention. Alfred, who was halfway up to standing, blood seeping out of his nose. Arthur, who still had Oliver in a painful armlock as well as Andrew in mid surrender and Allan in full surrender.

"Let him go Arthur." Luciano hissed, pressing the knife against Kiku's vital vein.

Alfred nearly jumped up, and he likely would have if he still wasn't dazed. Instead he fell onto the wall, using it as a type of support. "You bastards..." He muttered, knowing that it was half his fault for leaving Luciano in the first place. Arthur dropped the armlock, Oliver tumbling forward onto the floor. Allan hastily helped him to his feet, before stepping back.

"We'll be leaving now."Jean quickly added, motioning for Allan, Andrew, and Oliver to join the two others. They nodded and began to make their way over there. But before they did Allan made a daring move. He grabbed Arthur's pistol, which he had picked up off of the floor when he got onto his knees, part of the reason why his hands were hidden behind his back, and raised it high.

Without even bothering to aim, he pulled the trigger and a bullet flew through the air.

Arthur didn't have time to escape the path of the flying projectile. Instead, it found itself inside of his shoulder, causing him to cry out and stumble back out of surprise, gripping his shoulder in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. Alfred and Kiku yelled as they realized what had happened, giving the group a chance to escape.

But then they realized they were far past their scheduled time. The sun had already risen and the other nations were already returning. First was the German, followed a talkative Spaniard, then a bored Chinese man and a cheery Russian. When they saw the sight that had unfolded in the hallway, they all rushed over to apprehend the Two-Ps and aid the wounded.

But the Two-Ps were much, much faster. And were out the backdoor before they could get close. So there was the rest of the scene, Kiku was shocked and trying to help Arthur, who was bleeding all over the floor and slowly losing consciousness, and a guilty American, who saw this as being all his fault.

A/N: Holy mother of god this chapter is the longest yet! Roughly 6,000 words all put together into one piece of crap. I apologize profusely for the often POV changes. I hate doing that in chapters but I found it necessary for me to get this story running. I wanted to do a crapton of fight scenes which I at least accomplished, to a certain extent. I hope you guys enjoyed this since it was a bitch to write. I rewrote the beginning at least three times since I didn't like it. Glad I did I suppose. I'll try to upload again since I'm on spring break but who knows. I'm only human =..='