They've walked for a very, very long time now, and something is telling Iceland that they're only getting deeper and deeper into the city.
The plant life is way overgrown, and Iceland finds himself wondering again how it's survived the rain and found enough water to shoot up. Maybe the shockingly bright green that every leaf and every blade of grass has become is enough to show that plants can thrive off of the rain, unlike humans, but Iceland isn't sure.
His backpack is beginning to feel like it weighs a ton, and he's starting to stumble over his own feet. He's extremely impressed that Denmark has been carrying Norway for all this time.
"I'm so tired," Iceland pants. "Can we take a break?"
"Sure. Let's have some food. We don't have that much left," Denmark responds.
They sit down, leaning against a wall. Iceland pulls some food out of his backpack, then picks up Hanatamago. She was sleeping in the larger compartment, and Iceland had the zipper open a little ways so that she could breath.
Hanatamago is a smart dog. She knows that their family has come apart, and it seems to Iceland that she also knows why. Her tail doesn't wag as much as it used to, and she seems a bit more timid. He still isn't sure how on earth she's survived this long.
Iceland feeds her some beef jerky, and eats the rest of the bag's contents himself. Once done with that, he checks how much food and water he has left. Three packets of crackers, another half-bag of beef jerky, and a small pouch of trail mix. Plus three small water bottles. If he rations it, that's enough to last him for three days.
"Shall we start walking again?" Iceland asks.
Norway nods, and Iceland puts the food back into his backpack, placing Hanatamago on top of it and leaving the zipper open a little ways.
They start walking again, and the time seems to pass slower and slower. Iceland knows that he should be grateful for the respite from action, and he is, but he can't help the feelings of boredom. They leave him alone with his thoughts, company that he doesn't want to have.
It feels like they've walked miles and miles. Miles of walking on cracked cement, miles of seeing no one but themselves. Miles of Iceland's head telling him things that he doesn't want to hear.
Left to themselves, his thoughts are constantly replaying both Sweden and Finland's deaths. How Sweden sacrificed himself to save the one that he loved. How he smiled for the first time in months at Finland right before he died. How he was the one that took Finland's life in the end.
Shut up, shut up, shut up! Iceland thinks. This hurts too much, oh my god does this hurt too much.
None of them knows where they are, and darkness is starting to fall.
"Let's take to the rooftops," Denmark says. "That's probably our safest bet."
They all agree, and start looking for a way to climb up. There are ladders all around, but in the darkening twilight it's getting harder and harder to see.
"There," Iceland says, pointing to a ladder in the darkness of an alley on the side of a dark grey building.
Just as he points to it, another voice calls out, "There they are!" and the gang that's become one of their worst enemies jumps out into view.
"How the fuck did they find us?!" Denmark wonders aloud. "Get on top of the building, Ice! Nor and I are right behind ya!"
They sprint toward the alley as the gang starts firing at them. Iceland starts climbing the ladder without hesitation. There's one point where he can feel a bullet whizzing by his ear, and he grits his teeth and climbs faster.
This building's quite tall, maybe around six stories. That's a long way to climb.
Iceland stops for a moment, and looks down. The gang is directly beneath them. Iceland isn't sure how on earth Denmark is carrying Norway, but somehow, he is.
The bad thing is that they've only made it about fifteen feet in the time that it took Iceland to climb halfway up the building.
They're not going to make it, Iceland thinks in horror. Oh god no…
Iceland can tell that Norway has the same thought. He's looking anxiously at the ground beneath them, and Iceland can see his lips moving as if saying, Faster, go faster, we need to go faster.
Denmark grits his teeth, and tightens his hold on Norway. He's desperately trying to climb faster, and Iceland can tell that he knows that he's not going to make it.
He looks up at Iceland. "Go!" he shouts desperately. "Go, Iceland!"
Iceland doesn't move.
I can't live without my family, he thinks.
The twilight is dark, but it's light enough that Iceland can see the look of soft determination on Norway's face and he presses a kiss to Denmark's lips and says,
"Keep your head up and don't stop going, Denmark. Take care of Iceland. Make it to safety. Survive, for me. You can do it, and I know you can. Don't avenge me. Go." Norway pauses, and adds a soft, "I love you."
Before Denmark can completely process his words, Norway twists himself loose from Denmark's grip. He makes eye contact with Iceland as he falls to the ground, fifteen feet below him, and lands on his back.
It's not enough to kill Norway.
But the boot that stomps on his throat with a sickening crunch is.