Arthur nearly choked on his tea when he saw two figures approach the front door slowly from the camera they had perched above it. They were both wearing caps, making identification nearly impossible from the angle, and one was leaning heavily on the other's shoulder as he pointed out the buzzer for the other to press impatiently. Soldiers? He found himself thinking. No. They wouldn't send only two. Two…maybe it's… "Answer normally, would you Andreas?" Arthur asked quickly to the Norwegian beside him, who nodded, though not without giving him a strange look.

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Matthew had come to a new conclusion over their travels. Three days without clean bandages really took their toll on gunshot wounds that hadn't been properly seen to. He could feel the infection settling itself comfortably in the limb, pulsing with his heartbeat to spread throughout the rest of him. Twice, Alfred had noted that he had a fever, and twice, the Canadian had insisted that they keep going.

Now, as they at last approached their haven, he felt about ready to collapse. A thin sheen of sweat now covered his entire face as he directed Al to the button.

"What have you brought with you, strangers?" Alfred jumped as Norway's cool voice crackled through the speakers, and was about to yell that it was him, the hero, when his brother clamped a hand weakly over his mouth.

"I've brought freshly cooked pancakes. My friend here has a six-pack of Sam-Adams!"

There was a moment's pause, likely in surprise, before Andreas buzzed open the door. "It's good to know you're alright." He murmured.

"So was that thingy back there a password?" Al asked, letting Matthew scramble onto his back again as they walked through the now-open door.

"Yeah. With that method, it's unique for all of us, and it's harder to intercept." The blond gasped suddenly, wincing at the fiery jolt of pain that seized his leg.

"But why Sam Adams? You know I'm a Coors man!" He stopped from a would-be tirade about how little his brother cares for his taste in beer when he saw the man standing at the end of the hallway. "Wassup Iggster?"

Arthur all but flew at them, wrapping the two in an awkward, (what with Alfred's arms a little preoccupied, and Matthew being a human backpack) but warm hug. "Learn proper English, you git." He murmured affectionately.

"Aw, but if I did that, I couldn't bug you with my epic street-talk all the time." He paused for a moment, before adding "yo" with a cheeky grin.

"I'll box your ears if you keep that up." Finally, he peered over at Matthew, who looked pained. "Good Lord, what's happened Matthew?"

"He went shopping!" Alfred explained cheerfully, though concern was obvious in his bright eyes. "And they gave him three bullets all for free, wasn't that nice of them?"

"Only you could make light of something like this. Come on, let's get him to the hospital wing."

The Brit let the way down the corridor, with a tired Alfred, and a nervous Kumajirou, whose claws clicked quietly on the tiled floor, following like a funeral procession.

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"So how many humans do you have here?" The American asked, passing his brother to several white-clad men, who took him to the adjacent operating room.

"Enough. We only need doctors, really. Come on lad, we'll come back to see him once they're done patching him up."

Al reluctantly followed Arthur away from the wing, and into a small living space. The other surviving nations were already waiting there for their arrival. "Welcome back to the world of the living!" Mathias cheered, clapping Alfred heartily on the shoulder.

"It's good to be back!" The American grinned right back. "Please tell me you still have massive stockpiles of your weird European beer!"

"What? You didn't bring any?" Freyr asked, raising an eyebrow curiously over the pages of the thick novel he was reading.

"Artie! They're being mean to me!" He wailed, flinging himself at the Brit, sniffling loudly. "And after I came all this way to save the day!"

Arthur sighed, peeling the blond off of him like a stubborn sunburn. "Has someone started dinner yet?" He asked the others while Alfred continued to sob in a corner.

"Berwald and Tino." Andreas replied simply, pointing to the Swede's now-retreating figure as he hurried to check whatever was on the stove, (that was bound to start smelling phenomenal in a few minutes) and a flour-speckled blond.

"Do you two need any help?" Arthur offered, getting to his feet.

Tino actually looked about to agree, before Berwald appeared in the doorway, glaring, and every other nation in the room let out a resounding 'NO!' and the Brit sat back down with a pout.

"Can we go see Mattie now?" Al pleaded suddenly; apparently he was over being made fun of.

"It's only been ten minutes, Alfred. I doubt they're done just yet. We'll bring him dinner once he's in recovery, alright?"

The American's hopeful gin sank, and he went back to his corner, this time accompanied by an equally as putout polar bear.

"Who?"

"America, little buddy." He sighed, scratching Kumajirou's ear. "The hero." The others had now started discussing Canada's condition, now that Al had brought it up, but neither of the two in the corner paid them any mind. It was nothing they didn't already know.

"Oh. I thought you might be him."

No need to tell Alfred who he was. He wasn't that stupid. "We'll go see him later, okay Komozeezee?"

Snorting in irritation at the butchering of his name, he made a jerky motion, similar to a nod, and curled up on the carpet beside him.

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"Damnit Francis! You were with them more recently than anyone else! You know their security system! Tell me how to get in!" Yao roared, throwing another well-aimed kick to the side of the Frenchman's already stained head.

"If you're so desperate to know, why don't you just ask your precious Lithuania?" Francis spat. "I'm sure he'd be more than happy to tell you everything you want."

"You know, it's times like these where I miss the old France. You would've never been so difficult about this. You would've given up without a fight, and then gone off being the pervert you've always been, throwing information at me."

"The old France probably would've asked for favours first though, but yes, I miss him too." He struggled to keep his now-hollow voice even. For once, he was shedding the skin of being a perverted coward. Right now, he had to stand strong, even though he could barely stand at times here. He couldn't cave in and just hand over the information.

This was his family that was at risk. His Mathieu, his Arthur, and yes, there were times when he'd claim Alfred as family too. To tell Yao where Arthur was, would lead him straight to the twins, and they would all die.

But as long as he was all that stood in the way of the Chinese army marching over more land, then he would stay.

And so, with a voice like chipped ice, he stated loud and clear for Yao, "You will never get at them."

Amber eyes flashed with rage, but it was fleeting. Yao stood up and stretched, before turning to leave. "You're wrong Francis. I'll find them all, and when I do…" The rage was back, gleaming with a fierce inferno behind the eyes. "I'll kill each one of them before you. Then and only then, will you die as well."

And with that, he left the cold cell, slamming the door shut behind him with a thunderous clang.

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An hour slipped by, and Tino called everyone to eat. While others were sitting down, Alfred just grabbed two plates filled with foods that he had no names for, and made his way to the hospital wing in determination, followed by Arthur.

"So, Mattie told me all kids of stuff on our epic trip here." The taller blond started, a large grin spreading across his face.

"Oh?" Arthur replied stiffly. He could almost hear the words spilling out of that brat's mouth before it was even open.

"He says there's a pretty little someone giving you sokerin!" He watched in satisfaction as the Brit's ears turned dark red.

He was expecting a bitch-fest of epic proportions from the man, but all he said was, "When did you learn Finnish?"

"Matt taught me some on the way here, just so I could tease you!" (This was only sort of true. Matthew had attempted to actually teach him the language, but he only picked up words that he could use against Arthur).

"Well if you tease Tino about it, I'll personally make you regret ever waking up!"

"Aye, aye Cap'n!" He probably would've saluted too, were it not for the plates still in his hands.

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The Canadian was sitting up in the narrow hospital bed, reading. He looked up suddenly as the two walked in, and beamed at them groggily. Apparently the drugs hadn't worn off just yet. "Good to know you still think of my Al, I'm starved."

"Who said this was for you?" Alfred held both plates out of his reach, sticking out his tongue. "I'm a growing boy, Mattie, and invalids like you should be eating hospital food anyway."

"The only way you're growing is outward." The blond growled, reaching for one of the crutches leaning against the wall beside him, and swung it threateningly close to his brother's face.

"Okay! I surrender! Please put the phallic symbol down!" He yelped, thought he corners of his mouth were twitching upwards as he did so.

"In what way is a crutch phallic?"

The American grinned, handing Matt the plate. "When you adjust it for your height!" He chirped in a very 'well duh' tone of voice. "All that sliding in and out, in, and –OW!" He jumped pretty high when Arthur tugged on his ear in irritation.

"Have some grace about yourself, you git!" Turning to Matthew, his expression softened. "How're you fairing?"

"Pretty good, looking forward to my office."

Arthur groaned and rolled his eyes. "I did promise you one, didn't I?"

"You did. Besides, I need a tech-cave."

"Well that was only because I wasn't actually expecting you to ever end up in Europe."

"What's this? Office? Cave? Explain people!" Alfred shouted, mouth already full, flailing his arms.

"Your brother's been helping me with most of our plans, including the password system you witnessed when you got here, as well as the plan we're going to explain to everyone tonight."

"Really? You're like our techie Matt?"

"Not like a techie, I am the techie." Matthew corrected with a smirk.

Whatever the American was going to reply with was cut off by the buzzer crackling to life throughout the entire building. It was wired to be answered from any room in the facility (Berwald's idea) so that no one had to be in a little computer room at all times just waiting for people to show up.

Confused, Arthur reached over, and hit the speaker on the wall behind him, cleared his throat, and asked, "What have you brought with you?"

A pause, and then a single-worded answer that noting could have prepared them for.

"Vodka."

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Thanks for reading~!

Whatever will happen next? Well chapter five of course! That was both a hassle, and incredibly fun to write, so I hope you enjoyed it!

Review please? I will love you forever if you do =3