The barbeque chip in Alfred's hand slipped out if his grasp, and hit the floor, shattering. And for once, the blond didn't make a huge deal about the loss of food. He was a bit too busy staring at Arthur and Matthew, who'd just revealed the plan they'd apparently been working on for weeks before Al had even woken up.

"Come again?" He asked dumbly.

"You heard the plan loud and clear Alfred. It'd be senseless to repeat." Arthur snapped, rubbing his temples in annoyance.

"B-but, you're kidding, right? There's no way that's seriously the plan! It could go wrong at every turn!"

"Trust us Al, we've gone over every possible plan, and this one seems to be our best shot. We'll vacate the building tonight, if that's alright with you guys." The Canadian answered calmly, with a small shake of his head.

"Do you really think he'll come if we send out a signal?" Andreas sounded sceptical. But then again, he was always hesitant about things like that.

"We know he will." It was clear that Arthur was trying desperately to sound sure of himself. "He's desperate to get his hands on anything he possibly can, and we're the only resistance. He won't be able to resist."

"But Artie…" Alfred started again. "If we fail, you do realize we won't have another shot, right?"

"America, being serious? This really is an apocalypse!" Mathias joked loudly, but the heaviness of what the American had said was now hanging darkly over all the nations assembled at the makeshift conference/poker table.

"So are we all in agreement?" Attention reverted back to the Brit as he addressed them, green eyes flashing with determination.

Tino was the first to stand, and nod. "I'll stand by you both on this." He declared, with all the sisu a centuries-old Finn could muster into one facial expression. His smile grew minutely at the grateful expression that flashed across Arthur's face, and he winked quickly.

"Me too." Ivan stood to his full, intimidating height, matched only by Berwald, who was the next to agree.

Not to be left out, Alfred was next, giving Matthew's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Guess I'll have to take your word for this one bro. We'll charge in and kick his sorry ass."

One by one, everyone stood, each with an expression resembling a mix of determination and fear.

"So it's settled then." Matthew called over them. "We'll send the humans away within the hour, and prepare to leave for France."

Despite how supportive he'd decided to be about the whole thing, Alfred couldn't help but groan a little. "I can't believe we're driving to China from France."

The Brit snorted again. "It's not like we've got much of a choice! Besides, the vans that are hidden at Francis' home are quite spacious. We can swap out so that only one person is awake at a time, driving, and the others can sleep. There won't be a reason to stop, except for gas."

"That's still days of travel."

"Do you have any better ideas?"

There was a moment's pause, and the American sat back down, pouting.

"Any other objections?"

The table was silent.

{}}{{}

And that's how nine nations ended up piled into a pair of dark vans, heading east through the war-torn homes of their allies. The first van had all the Nordics in it, that seemed like the obvious choice. While America, Canada, England, and Russia were in the second. Really, all they were missing was France, and they'd have hell-in-a-box.

"When are you gonna let me drive Artie?" Alfred whined, kicking the back of the Brit's seat impatiently.

"When you stop being a nuisance!" He growled, emerald eyes glazed over with a combination of irritation, and exhaustion.

"Maybe you should let him drive for awhile." Matthew suggested calmly. "You're looking really tired."

"Poppycock, I can go for another two hours, at least." He winced. Poor choice of words, given that it was America of all nations in the backseat.

Sure enough, the blond sniggered into his hand. "You said cock, Iggster."

"I damn well know what I said you bloody wanker! Now shut up or you'll wish you were still in a coma!"

Silence fell over those in the van at Arthur's outburst. He was a bit red in the face from snapping like that. He liked to keep his 'gentlemanly' composure at all times, and to lose it like that…

"Geez Artie, this is why people like you shouldn't date people like Tino. He's too innocent, and you get grumpy when you're not getting any."

Matthew had to grab the wheel as Arthur turned around to throttle the laughing American. Ivan simply slid a little further out of the way and watched in amusement. At least until the Canadian started screaming, "Brake Arthur! Brake!"

Still with his hands around Alfred's throat, he complied, forcing the van to come to a sudden halt, as did the van behind them. Rage slightly subsided; he turned to see why he'd been forced to stop so abruptly.

There was a single person standing in the middle of the road, doubled over, as if out of breath. A thick green hoodie obstructed the person's face, but it appeared to be a woman. Curious, Arthur slid out of the vehicle, followed by Matthew and Ivan, and finally Alfred, who was still rubbing his neck, looking slightly miffed.

"Can we help you?" Matthew called cautiously, taking a step closer.

The figure stood up straight, and the hood fell back, making all the assembled nations blink in surprise.

"Thank God I caught up with you. I didn't think I'd make it." Belgium smiled. "Thought I'd…" She wobbled a little where she stood. "…Have to walk all the way to China myself." Her legs gave out, and she collapsed on the pavement where she stood.

{}}{{}

Francis couldn't have told anyone when in his captivity he'd found the loose stone, but when he did, he became so fixated on prying it free that nothing else seemed to matter. This monomania was deepening by the minute. He no longer even cared that his once perfectly manicured nails cracked and broke. He just continued to claw at the stone in desperation.

And then, it just fell out to the other side with a dull thud, and a soft yelp of surprise from whichever nation happened to be captive on the other side. "Who-who's there?"

He recognized that voice. "Antonio? Is that you?"

"Francis! Mi Amigo!" The Spaniard's tanned face appeared in the space made by the stone, and his eyes brightened considerably. "You look like shit."

"You look no better mon ami."

He laughed weakly at that. "I suppose you're right. But I doubt anyone looks good after months of rotting in a dungeon."

"Ah, but of course, I'm still the most gorgeous nation alive!" Francis teased, even throwing in one of his famous hair-flips, albeit a weak one. The wide smile on his face fell slightly as he returned from his moment of reliving what was once normal for them. "I can't help but feel partly responsible for all of this."

"What are you talking about? This is nobody's fault but Yao's!"

"But Arthur and I, as well as so many others were cruel to him. It was more than enough to make him want to snap."

Antonio hummed in thought, before shaking his head; even tough Francis couldn't really see it. "I don't think that's the reason."

"Non? And why is that?"

"Because if that were the reason, you'd be tortured daily just so Yao could get his kicks for the day, not for information. Besides, he would have focussed more on capturing England, Russia, and America before all of us. They were the worst offenders. However, this is not the case. They still run free, and it's just you and the rest of the world in here."

"He bombed America." The blond pointed out, though the argument was really weak, even he was aware of that.

"Just as an excuse to start the war." There went his feeble argument. "By the way, do you know how Alfred is?"

"Last I heard, before I got caught, Mathieu was taking care of him."

They were interrupted by the loud, hurried storm of footsteps running past their doors. "What's going on?" Antonio wondered aloud.

"I don't know…" The Frenchman got up shakily to his feet, and walked over to the door of his cell, peering through the bars on the small window to see what was likely all the guards in the entire prison running towards the exit. "What's happening?"

Most ignored him, but one man stopped, snapped something hurriedly in his own language with a minute sneer, and continued on.

"Did you catch that?"

There was no answer.

"Francis! Did you understand him?"

"Oui." He whispered, throat suddenly feeling like cotton. "They've found the location of the other nations." Antonio paled at the answer. "They're going to attack."

{}}+{{}

Thanks for reading~!

*Looks at reviews* Well, I suppose that enough to keep everyone alive for one more chapter, but that's all I'm promising here.

But you'll still review, right? Because you know how happy they make me, and when I'm happy…there's less killing! =D