Lost. Chapter 9.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing the last chapter and this chapter. I feel like such a horrible person writing this. DX. Oh well, still fun. XD I have a feeling a few people are gonna hate me by the end of this chapter.

Disclaimer: Hikari does not own or claim to own Hetalia, the characters or the song used below!

Stay low.
Soft, dark, and dreamless,
Far beneath my nightmares and loneliness.
I hate me,
For breathing without you.
I don't want to feel anymore for you.

Grieving for you,
I'm not grieving for you.
Nothing real love can't undo,
And though I may have lost my way,
All paths lead straight to you.

I long to be like you,
Lie cold in the ground like you.

Halo,
Blinding wall between us.
Melt away and leave us alone again.
The humming, haunted somewhere out there.
I believe our love can see us through in death.

I long to be like you,
Lie cold in the ground like you.
There's room inside for two and I'm not grieving for you,
I'm coming for you.

You're not alone,
No matter what they told you, you're not alone.
I'll be right beside you forevermore.

I long to be like you, sis,
Lie cold in the ground like you did.
There's room inside for two and I'm not grieving for you.

And as we lay in silent bliss,
I know you remember me.

I long to be like you,
Lie cold in the ground like you.
There's room inside for two and I'm not grieving for you,
I'm coming for you.

Lyrics to Like You by Evanescence.

~*~*~

England's POV.

Upon breaking into the building, the bands of countries were met by chaos. About 15 people were all mashed together in a swirl of clothing. Some guards laid strewn on the ground with bullet or sword wounds in them. Others were swarmed around two forms near the ground.

Arthur's heart beat quickened, searching the mob of people for Kiku or Ludwig. He didn't want to think about what all these people could do to the pair especially if they were injured.

He suddenly caught a flash of dirty white near the bottom of the fury. He recognized it as Kiku's uniform. He saw a man get off the lithe Japanese man, giving Arthur a better view. Kiku's face and neck was stained with dried blood. His usually pristine uniform was soiled with blood, probably from whatever wound he sustained and possibly the people he killed, and dirt. Kiku looked extremely tired but he kept trying to fight.

In a daze, Kiku tried to get to his feet but a man slammed into his back. Kiku fell to his hands and knees. Another man stepped on his limbs and fingers but Kiku still tried to get to Ludwig. The man standing over the Japanese man drew his leg back and sent his foot into Kiku's chest. Kiku let out a strangled gasp and crashed to his side, his limbs churning feebly. The man was on him again, stepping on his chest. Kiku's feet twitched and his body went ridged. Even over the noise, Arthur could hear the crack of a rib. The man wedged his toe into his ribs making Kiku almost pass out from pain. He started kicking him again in a fury of cruel laughs.

Arthur quickly picked up an abandoned sword and hurried to Kiku. He was quickly followed by Alfred who had drawn his trusty pistol. Arthur noticed a determined fire in Gilbert's eye and a cold anger in Mei's that made him flinch. Mei and Gilbert quickly hurried to the guards. Mei killed the man kicking Japan and a few around him before kneeling down and carefully collecting Kiku's crumpled body into her arms. Kiku leaned his arm against his chest and finally passed out.

At that time, everyone else had drawn their weapon and was joining in the fight. Gilbert had gotten the men off of Ludwig but was struggling to hold them back. The ex-country was loudly swearing in German that Arthur couldn't understand nor did he really want to know what he was saying. Judging by the anger burning in his scarlet eyes and in the brutal way he killed the guards, Arthur had a pretty good guess to what he was saying.

Arthur grasped his sword tightly with the skill of a pirate and quickly joined his lover's side. Alfred quickly shot him a glance that said 'be careful'. Arthur allowed a small smile. Back to back, they fought off the men.

In the background, Elizabetha was stunning men with her frying pan, Roderick was finishing off the men she was hitting, and Mattie and Francis were fighting the guards together. Ivan was brutally crushing peoples head with his water pipe.

Soon the countries had managed to kill them or severely injure all the guards. They weren't feeling kind enough to put some of them out of their misery so they writhed on the ground, slowly bleeding out from a wound.

They all turned to look at each other. "I don't think we'll be able to leave as easily as we came. I saw a line of trees across a field; if we hurry we can make it." Alfred panted. A small cut above his eye was bleeding and the blood was running between his nose.

"Oui, that should work." Francis said nodding. The Frenchman's sides were heaving from all the strenuous exercise.

"Ok. I'll run ahead and make sure everything's clear." Alfred said.

"Good idea." Mathew agreed.

Gilbert crouched down beside the unconscious German. Ludwig had a large cut in his hairline and another above his eye and on his cheek. His uniform was stained with blood and grime. It was obvious by his skeletal frame that he had been at the building for a while. His eyes were hallowed and his cheeks jaunt. His skin looked paper-thin and pale as flour.

"Be careful with him." Arthur said frowning at Ludwig's condition.

"I know arschloch!" Gilbert said petulantly.

"Ok. Let's get moving then." Alfred said quickly as more footsteps were coming down the hall. He turned to race ahead but Arthur grabbed his hand.

"Be careful, you bloody git." he said with no trace of a smile. Alfred nodded and Arthur released his hand with some hesitation. He tried to push down the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. Something was off. He didn't have a good feeling about the situation. He told himself that it was just Alfred. The American always made his stomach feel like that whenever his skin touched his.

Mei was still holding Kiku as if Kiku would break if she held him too tightly. Gilbert was looking attentively, a fury sparkling in his scarlet eyes. The group turned and ran out of the door. Arthur glued his eyes to Alfred running about 20 feet in front of them. The American was easily running through the grassy field. His stride was long and quick, propelling him through the field. His eyes looked around the side to look for any possible danger.

There was a click and a loud boom shattered the air. An explosion went off right beside Alfred. Being not too far, the group was thrown to the ground. Bits of shrapnel reached where they were now sitting. Dust rained down on the hard packed earth. Arthur's heart thumped loudly in his rib cage.

Alfred?

He looked up and strained his eyes to see through the dust and dirt still in the air. The moments seemed to drag on making Arthur feel sick. Alfred had to be ok! He was the hero! Heroes never died and neither did countries so Alfred had to be alive!

When the debris finally cleared enough for Arthur to see he let out an agonized scream. Alfred's mutilated corpse laid in a heap still 20 feet in front of him. Pain of realization pierced Arthur's heart and wrenched it in half.

Alfred! No!

Arthur screamed again and covered his face with his dirt coated hands as screams and sobs irrupted from his body. He was only vaguely aware of footsteps racing towards him but he didn't care. He would let the guards kill him! Then he could be reunited with his Alfred!

A pare of hands tightened around his shoulders and yanked him to his feet.

"Angleterre! We need to go!" Francis' voice shouted over Arthur grief stricken screams that continuously ripped through his throat. Arthur raised his arms, trying to shake Francis off of him but Francis' grip was tight.

"No! Let me go!" Arthur screamed. Tears were running uncontrollably down his face. He felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest and he had been left to bleed out into the grass. He wished it had been him and not Alfred: Alfred with his dazzling smile, Alfred with his sparkling eyes, Alfred with his adorable laughter. Never again. Never again would Arthur be able to see him, to hear him, touch him or love him. His Alfred was gone, gone from him forever.

Francis' voice was thick with sadness when he spoke again. "I'm sorry Arthur. Amerique wouldn't want you to die!" he said quickly. The Frenchman's heart was thumping quicker against his ribcage. He was all too aware of the footsteps getting closer. He needed to get Arthur away quickly or they would both be killed.

"What does it matter? He's dead!" Arthur shouted.

"You can't let him die for nothing!" Francis yelled, desperate to get through to the Brit. Arthur sobbed uncontrollably. Francis yanked on his arm, pulling him close to him as he ran.

"I won't let you die out here like this!" Francis said, "Maybe someday, you'll appreciate it." Arthur stayed silent. He ran past Alfred's dismembered body. Alfred's body was soaked in blood. He had been so close to the mine that his body was unrecognizable. His mutilated corpse would haunt Arthur's nightmares for many, many moons. He noticed his precious bomber jacket was gone and noticed Mattie running ahead with it.

Arthur turned his head as he ran past, his eyes not leaving Alfred's corpse as he ran. "Good bye, my sweet little Alfred." he whispered tearfully as Alfred's body got smaller until it disappeared from view.

Memories of his lover played in his mind. He saw Alfred the first day he ever laid eyes on him in the field, his head too big for his body. He was playing among the grass quietly, oblivious to all the joys and pains in life. At the time, neither knew of what fate would bring them but both were eager. From the first day Arthur ever saw him, he had though he was the most beautiful creature on Gods green earth. His eyes sparkled like the sky and his hair as golden as his wheat fields that billowed majestically in the wind. His laughter was the sweetest melody that Arthur's ears ever heard. The new child brought a joy to Arthur's long life; a joy that would light up the darkest night or the bloodiest war.

A few years passed and Alfred was a little older. He had grown into his head and he had grown taller. His azure eyes sparkled to see Arthur walking into his house. He called his name with the energy only a child could have and ran to hug Arthur's waist. Arthur chuckled and ruffled Alfred's hair. His heart always thumped hard against his rib cage whenever the American would say his name with such happiness or would hug him as if he was the most cherished person on the world. He had never experienced such a feeling before. Alfred was the first person who made him feel so loved. Alfred was the first person and maybe the only person that Arthur considered family.

Years flew by to the Revolutionary War. What had been bitter memories were now joyful. Alfred had always been so passionate about justice and freedom. He had helped to teach Arthur important lessons on how to treat growing countries and people in general. What touched Arthur the most was that Alfred had forgiven him and had loved him just the same as if the revolutionary war had never happened. Even though Arthur had been cruel to him and had taxed him, Alfred almost seemed to know that Arthur just wanted Alfred to stay with him as many people had left Arthur over his existence. The Revolutionary War always had bitter memories for Arthur but Alfred was always careful with him whenever Arthur came to visit.

More years flew by, and now it was WWII. Alfred had told him he wouldn't join in the war. Arthur was in deep trouble and in danger of disappearing as a nation. Alfred, even if he wouldn't join the war, devised a plan to try to sneak supplies to Arthur to help him. The act could have drug Alfred into the war and could have cost him civilian lives but Alfred wouldn't stand by when Arthur was hurting.

Arthur remembered Pearl Harbor and how strong Alfred had been. He grieved and hurt for his lost citizens but he pulled himself together at an unbelievable speed and made plans to attack Japan. He remembered the difficulty of Alfred's decision and the maturity he had. He hadn't been blinded by revenge as Feliciano was. He had thought clearly and eventually made the decision that would help to end the war even if he never forgave himself for the damage of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

More years flew by and Alfred witnessed 9/11. Arthur remembered how grief stricken the country had been. Yet Alfred's citizens, like Alfred, were strong. They honored their fallen loved ones and joined together to help each other through the difficult times. Terrorist attacks were always hard on a country and its people but Arthur remembered how he envied Alfred's mature handle on the matter. The day Osama Bin Ladin died had been one of Alfred's happiest moments. While it couldn't bring back those men and women who had lost their lives, it brought Alfred a little closure that the man responsible was dead.

Alfred had always been strong in Arthur's memory. Even though people said America was a shell of it's former self, Alfred would always be as strong as his strongest moment in Arthur's mind.

He turned and closed his eyes, getting tired from running and crying. His memories faded away into the background.

"We're almost to the trees. Just keep going a little longer." Francis encouraged quietly. He kept his grip on England and desperately tried to speed up to get them to safety.

Shortly, the group reached the trees. They quickly veered sharply into thick underbrush and crouched down. Arthur had stopped crying by that time but tears continued to silently streak down his face. Francis' heavy breathing warned Arthur of his appearance before Arthur saw him from the corner of his eye as the Frenchman crawled under the bush.

Francis stayed on his hands and knees but wrapped one arm around Arthur, pulling him close. Arthur leaned against the Frenchman, pressing his face into the fabric of Francis' shirt pitifully. Francis rubbed his arm gently, not trying anything perverted for once. "Shh. Calm down, Angleterre." Francis whispered. Men's voices were heard in the distance, becoming louder at an increasingly alarming rate.

Arthur's heartbeat increased again. Fear pulsed through his body causing his senses to be on edge. He was aware of every crackle in the woods, every brush of fabric, every breath of air. He could hear it all with increased senses. The men drew closer to their spot. Arthur held his breath afraid they would see them and kill them. They whispered back and forth to each other occasionally. They walked right past the countries hiding spots.

Arthur felt and heard Francis sigh in relief when their voices faded away. Everyone sat up quietly. Gilbert was still carrying Ludwig, Mei was cradling Kiku's form to her and Mattie was tearfully clutching Alfred's bomber jacket.

A warm pair of arms suddenly wrapped around Arthur's shoulders and drew him into a warm chest. It took him a few moments before his tired brain finally realized Francis was hugging him.

"I'm so sorry, Arthur." he whispered gently. Arthur sighed and closed his eyes, letting his tears soak through the Frenchman's shirt. "I thought we were going to lose you...the way you just sat there. Please, don't scare me like that ever again." Francis said.

Arthur didn't reply other then a shaky sigh.

After a few moments, someone timidly tapped Arthur's shoulder. Francis let him go so Arthur could turn around. Mattie looked into Arthur's emerald eyes. His eyes were red from crying and his cheeks were wet. He held out Alfred's bloody bomber jacket, which were in pretty good shape considering the shape of Alfred's corpse.

"Here, I think Alfred would want you to have it." Mattie said offering the jacket to him. His voice quivered slightly. Arthur gently reached out and touched the fabric. He took it and looked at Mattie for a moment.

"Thank you Mattie." he whispered. Mattie smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. The group all struggled not to cry over the loss of Alfred. His loss hit them all hard. Despite what everyone said, they all cared about the American. His presence had the ability to brighten a room. His laugh could make anyone smile and his eyes could open everyone's hearts. His absence was already felt. The cause of his death had been no comfort. Even though it was quick, the damage to his physical body had been horrifying and the fact that they would have to abandon his body was heartbreaking.

His death was a crushing blow to them, not just because he was a dear friend. Alfred was also the strongest of them all. His death demonstrated the strength Feliciano had received and the cruelty he possessed to kill one of their kind.

Alfred's death was a shock to them all, especially to Arthur, the one who loves Alfred with all his heart and soul. Without Alfred, Arthur felt lost and empty. He didn't know what to do anymore beside to get up and keep going, like Alfred would have wanted as Francis had pointed out to him.

A/N: Is it bad that I didn't cry when I wrote this? Does getting depressed count? I feel like such a horrible person. I almost didn't post this chapter. Just almost. DX I'm sorry! I do love Alfred, his death was kinds needed! Please review and tell me your thoughts about this chapter/story! I got some questions though:

1: Is any of the characters out of character? If yes, who and how so?

2: Is there any gaps in the story line or any parts not believable?

3: Is the writing successful in describing scenery and emotions? If not, how can I improve?

That's if for now! Arigato!