None of them stop running until they're back on their rooftop. Denmark lays Norway gently on the ground, and Finland immediately starts to wrap up his wound with some bandages.
"I really need water," Finland says, gritting his teeth. "The risk of infection is extremely high. But we don't have any that we can use."
Denmark is kneeling beside Norway, Norway's head in Denmark's lap. "Just, just do what you have to do, alright?" Denmark says, running a hand through Norway's pale blonde hair. "Just make sure that he's okay."
"The wound isn't too deep," Finland says. "He should be fine, just as long as he doesn't get infected."
Finland takes one of the painkillers out of his first-aid kit, and gives it to Norway along with some water.
Norway accepts it gratefully, drinks it, then lets his head fall back onto Denmark's lap. He's exhausted, and it's easily understandable why.
"I'm so sorry, Nor," Denmark says, and Iceland realizes that he's started to cry. "I'm so sorry that I let them take you away from me. I'm so, so sorry."
Norway opens his eyes slowly, and looks up at Denmark. "S'okay," he murmurs drowsily, the painkillers making him a bit sleepy. "You did your best."
Denmark cries harder at that, and hugs Norway close to him. "It'd kill me if anything happened to you, alright?" he says. "I'm going to protect you, no matter what. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you again." His words fall on unlistening ears; Norway has already fallen asleep. Denmark keeps him encircled in his arms, murmuring sweet things to him.
Iceland sits beside them, and places a hand on Norway's head. He softly strokes his older brother's hair, and bites his lip.
If anything happened to you, I'd die too, he thinks. You have to stay with us, big brother.
Finland and Sweden sit down close to them, and they all huddle together. Sweden's arms encircle Finland and Denmark, leaving Iceland and Norway in the middle.
It's a nice feeling to be held and protected. It's an especially nice feeling after one watches one's friends get slaughtered gruesomely in front of them.
Iceland closes his eyes. He leans his head against Norway's chest so that he can feel his older brother's heartbeat, just to make sure it's still there.
It doesn't falter, and keeps pounding.
Iceland breaths a sigh of relief, and keeps his head pressed to Norway's chest.
How did they find us so easily, Iceland thinks. Maybe it's because we were on the ground… He shudders. I am never, ever going on the ground again. I can live up here, on this building…. No, that's impractical thinking. I'm going to have to go back down there again, and when I do, I need to be strong enough to be able to handle whatever comes at me.
He starts to falls asleep surrounded by his family. Physically, he's not alone, but in his mind? There, it's just him and his thoughts.
His disturbing, disgusting, and horrifying thoughts.
The thoughts that keep on replaying Italy's gory smile, Romano's bloody end, and Germany's final stand.
The thoughts that won't leave him alone.
The thoughts that tell him that he's going to die with his family.
The thoughts that tell him that the world is never going to get better.
The thoughts that tell him to give up.
Oh yes, he's alone with his thoughts.