Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

Warnings: Slash, AU, swearing, sub-par writing, wonky plots, appallingly slow updates, and Hitler jokes.

IMPORTANT: This chapter contains violence and continued mentions of torture. If this is a trigger for you, please, be prepared. Better safe than sorry.

I don't know what I'm doing.

Unbeta'd.

[Chapter 19]

Everyone in compound turned, in unison, to give Alfred a look which suggested exactly what kind of idiot they thought he was. Well, technically, only Lily was there to physically look at Alfred. Eduard, Arthur, and Tino, who Alfred could see through the monitors, raised their faces towards the speakers from which Alfred's voice had emanated and twisted their features into a series of expressions that ranged from dumbfounded to utterly perplexed. They stayed like that for a minute until their minds could comprehend what had just happened, and then everyone more or less decided that Alfred was out of his goddamned mind and reflected that in their facial expressions.

To be fair, Alfred was also fairly sure he was out of his goddamned mind and had been so since the moment he'd entered the compound, more or less. Therefore, there was absolutely no reason to start acting rational now.

"You heard me." he said. "Drop it."

"Um." replied Tino, whose machinations had just been derailed in ways he'd never even fathomed and was floundering accordingly. "To whom am I speaking?"

"You fucking idiot!" roared Arthur, no longer content to just suggest Alfred's lack common sense with his facial expression. "Why didn't you just stay in the-"

Tino backhanded him. Arthur's rant subsided with a gasp and a few wet sounding coughs and he sagged against his restraints. Alfred smothered his own reaction. Arthur's reaction had jolted Tino out of his shock. The ball was back in his court now. Emotional outbursts wouldn't do any good now.

Which wasn't to say that Alfred didn't want to make Tino eat his own teeth, because he did. Very much so. But Alfred wasn't in a position to punch that asshole's mouth in right now, so he'd pretend at civility.

At least until Tino got within punching range.

"Ah. I am to assume you two know each other." Tino studied the back of his hand, calm demeanor settling back into place. "Which would make you Mr. Jones, would it not?"

And apparently Alfred rated high enough on the annoyance scale that a megalomaniacal terrorist making a bid at super-villainy remembered who he was.

Huzzah.

"I'd say it's nice to see you again, but that isn't the sort of lie I can make sound convincing." he ground out.

Tino gave a strangled sort of chuckle and aimed an approximation of a smile at the camera. "Likewise."

The fake pleasantries petered out and were quickly suffocated by the oppressive silence. No one moved, locked in a strange sort of standoff. Eventually, Tino decided to take the reins again.

"Well," he said after a moment. "As charming as this reunion has been, I'm afraid I was in the middle of something. So, if you'll excuse me-" he turned back to Arthur. "I'll just get back to it."

"You don't want to do that."

Here Tino laughed for real. "Mr. Jones, your plagiarized action movie bullshit isn't going to do you any good here. I can assure you, I really," he drew the word out into an elongated sort of moan that was a little too enthusiastic to be just for dramatic effect, "want to do this."

He hit Arthur again and watched him grunt in pain with the over bright eyes of a cat too busy playing with its crippled prey to bother killing it just yet.

"Then again, if you really want to convince me of the error of my ways." he hit Arthur again. "Go ahead. Appeal to my humanity. Tell me it's not too late to change my ways. Give some sort of heartfelt speech. I'll listen. I'll keep beating your companion, but I'll listen."

"Actually, I'd like to propose a trade." Alfred responded, in a calm level tone that was entirely out of place.

"And, what, exactly, do you think it is you have to bargain with?" he tilted Arthur's face up almost gently. "I have everything I want right here."

He kept one eye on the camera though, plainly curious. People in situations like this didn't talk to maniacs in such a level tone unless they were still in control of the situation. Alfred could be bluffing. Alfred might have completely misjudged the situation.

Or Alfred could have an ace up his sleeve.

"If you really had everything you wanted, Arthur's state of being wouldn't matter because most of the northern hemisphere would resemble something that fell to the bottom of your oven a year ago and you've been too lazy to fish out, not matter how much of a burny smell it makes every time you bake something. This plan we stopped was slapshod at best. You were missing a key component right from the very beginning, and no matter how hard you tried you never could make up for that mistake."

"You could kill Arthur. You could do it right now, but that wouldn't be enough. His name wouldn't have been ruined like your lover's was. He'd die an agent who got involved with some questionable things, maybe a traitor to his country. But he'd be a footnote. You want him blacklisted. You want history books to condemn him from now until the end of time. You want it to be impossible to speak his name without it being a slur."

"You messed up this time. But that doesn't mean you couldn't do things right if given a second chance. I could give you that chance."

Tino had turned away from Arthur entirely and was looking up at the speaker, at Alfred. "And how are you going to do that?"

"Hit-" Damnit, Alfred, don't tell a certified madman with whom you are in the middle of hostage negotiations that you will give him Hitler.

Alfred performed a hasty verbal backspace before Tino could realize something was wrong.

"I mean, the targeting system. I have the targeting system, and I'm willing to give it to you. In exchange, you let Arthur go."

On screen, Arthur began to shake and scream muffled things at him while Tino gave the camera an interested smirk, eyes lit with just the right amount of malice.

There was also the distinct click of a safety being switched off originating from the tiny powerhouse standing right beside him, but Alfred was just going to ignore that for the time being.

"Well, that's interesting." Tino mulled the offer over. "Also highly unlikely. I say you're bluffing."

"I have it Tino. It's how I got into the system. It's how I stopped the missile launch."

Tino wasn't stupid. It didn't take him long to piece two and two together and realize how an out of work programmer could have stopped his grand design in such a short amount of time. Especially when that grand design involved highly encrypted military systems.

He considered Alfred's offer again, this time in earnest.

"That's a very tempting offer. Not sure if it's more appealing than killing him now though."

"We both know it is. If instant gratification was your thing, you just would've shot him in the head as he made his way home one night and be done with it. I give you the targeting system, and you can have another shot at things. Might even be easier to paint Arthur as a nuclear terrorist this time, what with there being evidence of him being in a missile silo and all."

Arthur looks somewhere in between infuriated and betrayed, and Alfred's pretty sure he's going to have to formulate some sort of apology once Arthur's safe. He probably won't just let it go, even if Alfred manages to save his life.

Hallmark really needs to expand their roster of cards.

"All right." Tino agreed. "We have a deal. You give me my prize, and I give you this back." he kicked Arthur's chair. "You come to me, though. I'm not walking myself into an ambush. And I shouldn't even have to tell you about what happens if you try any funny business."

"Fine. But if Arthur isn't alive when I get there, the deal is off."

Tino looked disappointed. Alfred contained another wave of horror.

"Fine." he sighed. "You know where I am. Don't keep me waiting."

He gave a cheerful little wave and then shoot out the camera. The screen descended into static for a minute before switching to a message informing Alfred that the signal has been lost. Alfred watched it for a moment, and then turned to look at Lily, posture hunched over and clearly submissive.

Lily leveled a look at him, although the way she adjusted her grip on the rifle spoke volumes more. Everything about her said quite plainly that Alfred had better have a damned good reason for even suggesting that he was going to give a certifiable lunatic a second shot at global annihilation.

"I'm stalling." said Alfred, without preamble. "Go get Eduard. Get the landlines working and call someone. Anyone. Everyone who might be able to help us now. I'll go down there and buy us what time I can. If it comes down to it, I'll break Hitler. Tino'll probably shoot me, but I figure you'd turn me into Swiss cheese if I let him so much as touch it."

Lily relaxed the rifle in a way which suggested that Alfred was damned right and she'd drop his punk ass in a heartbeat, if it came down to it.

Alfred was really glad she was staying on his side.

He let out a steadying breath and took a moment to convince his shaking legs that not only could they continue to support his weight, they could also carry him towards certain doom. Lily waited for him to compose himself and then snapped a salute that was almost text book in its precision before sauntering off the way they'd come.

Alfred nodded at her retreated form, silently wishing her good luck as well and then descended further into the base.

In video games, there was usually an ominous corridor or some sort of door that players would instinctively recognize as being the point of no return. Beyond that threshold was the final boss and they knew better than to walk through it without making sure they were prepared. The thing about real life, though, was that it didn't give a damn about whether or not you were ready it was boss time. It didn't give you the option to go off and level grind or complete frivolous side quests. Alfred strode through the base knowing he was very much unprepared for the confrontation he was getting steadily closer to.

The other thing about real life was that, in a missile silo, every corridor looked like the final one and Alfred had already psyched himself up for the final confrontation about three times by now only to reach the end and find out there was only more corridors or doors leading to more corridors.

After about the third false alarm he'd given up steeling himself and had taken to just strolling around corners or calmly turning doorknobs. Which meant that when he finally did make it to Tino's room, he was a little bit taken aback as to what he'd just walked into.

Tino, of course, had posed himself in front of the door and was waiting for him, perfectly cool and composed. Even Arthur, still tied to the chair, seemed prepared for what was about to happen.

Alfred just sort of improvised.

"Hey. So, how are we doing this?"

He looked back and forth between Tino and Arthur, fiddling a bit with Hitler, which was tucked safely up under his arm. To be fair, it was an extremely odd trade off and he doubted that Arthur or Tino, with their various experiences in espionage and all that, had even been in a situation quite like this.

"Well, as you can see that I've brought my bartering chip, it would only be polite to show what you've brought to the table."

"Oh. Right."

He held out Hitler for inspection. Part of the casing Alfred had hastily constructed for it fell of and landed on the floor with a plastic 'tik.' Tino didn't look impressed.

"Hehehe..." he laughed hollowly, breaking out into a cold sweat. "Um, why don't I get it booted up for you?"

He inched carefully to the side, Tino watching his every move, until he had reached a desk of some sort and placed Hitler on top of it. He opened the mangled laptop open and swung it around so Tino could see the screen, which was thankfully still working and also currently displaying data that would give a government security analyst somewhere an aneurysm if he knew that Tino had so much as sneezed within three feet of it, much less given it a curious once over.

No satisfied with this view, Tino stood and padded his way over to where Alfred stood, more interested in the machine than him. Alfred was very uncomfortable with the sudden invasion of personal space, but Tino seemed as collected as ever.

So much for being perceived as a threat.

Tino studied Hitler, looking very much unimpressed at the slapdash work Alfred had done creating something that would properly interface with such complex electronics. Alfred forwent professional pride and elected not to defend his design in favor of sliding around the table, thereby putting a couple of feet and a solid piece of wood in between Tino and himself.

It was probably the most tactically sound thing he'd done all day.

Finished with his assessment, Tino looked back up at Alfred.

"I suppose looks really are deceiving." there was a lilt to his voice that implied that Hitler wasn't the only thing he was referring to.

"It works," Alfred snapped, nerves fraying beyond the point of reason, "what more do you want?"

"Why, Mr. Jones, I'm so glad you asked."

If that wasn't a Bond villain line, Alfred didn't know what was. Of course, Tino had just pointed a gun at him, so most of what Alfred knew had fled from his mind to be replaced by panic induced white noise.

"You see, I've thought up another way to make poor little Arthur suffer. It's obvious he cares for you and, well, an eye for an eye and all that."

Tino locked eyes with Alfred. Wanted Alfred to know who it was who was going to kill him. Wanted his face to be the last thing that Alfred saw before he died. Wanted to see those last fleeting expressions on Alfred's face.

Alfred stated back. Looked deep into those strange violet eyes.

Not because he was too scared to look away, or he wanted to be defiant to the last, or he wanted to remember Tino's face so that Alfred could come back from the dead a wreak his terrible vengeance like something out of those cheesy horror films he would never admit terrified him.

Mostly, he held Tino's gaze because Arthur, who had begun working at his bonds as soon as Tino had walked over and diverted his attention to Alfred and Hitler, had gotten his hands free. With only one good arm, and who knew how many other injuries, it would take him more time to get completely free. If Alfred so much as glanced away, even for a second, Tino would see.

"Aren't you a brave one? No crying? No pleading? A pity. It would've made a better show. Maybe I should shoot you somewhere else first, before I put a bullet between those pretty eyes of yours. I bet he likes your eyes. What else does he like about you?" The gun drifted away from his face to various parts of his anatomy. "Your legs? Your shoulders? Your hands? Or, perhaps?"

Tino aimed at Alfred's pelvis, and then thought better of it. "No. That'd just be mean."

It was good to know that some things were still sacred.

"I really don't know. You're really not my type. Arthur, what, exactly-" Tino looked over his shoulder, intent on gloating, and made the discovery that Arthur had not only slipped free, but was much closer than he had been a short while ago.

Tino began to turn, gun shifting towards his new target, and Alfred took stock of his options. He couldn't let Tino shoot Arthur. He wouldn't be able to get to Arthur in time to pull him out of the way. There was a table in between Tino and himself. By the time he got over the table and made a grab for the gun, Tino would likely have already gotten a shot off. Even if he hadn't, Alfred didn't know if a struggle for the gun would end in his favor. He also didn't know what Arthur was planning to do. Maybe he had a gun, or a knife, or something, Tino hadn't managed to find and take from him. A wild dive across the table might just bring Alfred into Arthur's line of fire. If Arthur hesitated, Tino would kill him. He couldn't put himself in the line of fire.

He was stuck behind a table with Hitler. A table which, while wide enough that he couldn't easily reach across and grab a gun that was being aimed away from him, was still narrow enough that he could take a swing at his opponent across it. An opponent who was turning away from him to address a bigger threat. An opponent who was leaving himself entirely open to attack.

The situation meant only one thing.

Plan B's time had come once more.

Alfred swung Hitler at Tino in much the same way he'd once swung a pillow at Arthur. It connected with the side of his face and there was a nasty crunching noise. Alfred didn't know if came from Tino or Hitler, but it really didn't matter. What mattered was that it had connected with enough force that Tino staggered and, most important of all, dropped the gun to the floor.

God only knew why this kept working.

In the second immediately following this occurrence, three full grown men dove to occupy roughly the same space at roughly the same time, though for wildly varying reasons.

Tino dove to the floor to pick up the gun.

Arthur dove to the floor because he was still locked onto Tino with the intent of doing as much damage as he could.

Alfred dove to the floor because he had no idea what was going to happen next and figured that ducking under the table would get him out of the immediate line of fire. This turned out to be a poor decision on Alfred's part as Arthur's wild dive sent him crashing directly into Tino, as he'd intended, but with enough force to send the two of them bowling across the floor, under the table, and into Alfred.

The tangled dogpile of bodies quickly devolved into a veritable kraken of whirling limbs that was two parts murderous rage and one part breathless bewilderment.

Alfred spent a horrible couple of seconds trying to breathe after having the wind knocked out of him while, on top of him, two men, who felt like they were made entirely of elbows, enthusiastically tried to murder each other. Luckily for Alfred, they didn't seem to remember that he was there, and that gave him the time he needed to catch his breath and utilize the adrenaline surging through him to throw them both off himself, knocking the table over in the process.

Arthur hit the floor and didn't get up, injuries preventing him from rising right away. Tino had no such handicap and was struggling to his feet almost immediately, lips drawn back in a snarl and looking for a target, any target.

So Alfred hit him with the table.

Adrenaline let you do stuff like that.

Tino went down, and Arthur scrambled over and tried to pin him down, but, with only one working arm, it wasn't going so well. Alfred, whose arms had almost immediately started to complain about holding up a table, dropped it in favor of a lighter, but no less sturdy, chair.

Tino struggled and got free of Arthur for a moment and Alfred hit him again. This time, he knew the crunching sound wasn't the chair. Tino went limp and then Arthur was there, throwing all his weight behind one last punch.

He stopped moving.

Alfred didn't let go of the chair, still expecting Tino to assume his final form. Or something.

Honestly, he didn't know how he'd expected this to end. Maybe some long drawn out thing with elegantly choreographed kung-fu and impossible gun shots. Instead they'd gotten Tino onto the floor, held him there, and then hit him in the face still he stopped moving.

It had been... Brutal.

Alfred wasn't sure how he felt right now.

"We didn't kill him, did we?"

Arthur looked up from where he knelt over Tino's prone form. One of his eyes was swelling shut. Alfred hadn't noticed that before.

"No. He's out, but he'll survive. Do you have something to tie him up with?"

"Yeah." Alfred replied absently, dropping the chair and groping at his shoes. "Are you ok? I mean, it's pretty obvious you're not ok, but I just-"

Alfred held his shoe with shaking hands and tried to convey to Arthur exactly what he was feeling right now.

"I'm so mad at you right now. So fucking mad. I thought we finally understood each other, and you just ran off again. You just keep leaving me behind, and I never know if you're going to come back. But you're hurt, and I really don't want to make you hurt any more than Tino already made you, so I can't be mad. And I'm scared. Because the world almost blew up. Because someone held a gun at me. Because someone held a gun at you. Because you look so hurt. And I don't want you to hurt. I want to make it better. But I- And- I really, really like you, but-"

He held out the shoe.

"The laces on this are pretty decent. They'll hold until we can find something better, provided he doesn't wake up anytime soon."

Arthur stood up and accepted the footwear solemnly. Then he tossed it aside and slumped against Alfred's chest in what might be called a hug. If anything, it made Alfred feel worse. He was supposed to be comforting Arthur right now, not the other way around.

"I know." he murmured into Alfred's chest. "I know how you feel, and that's why I didn't want you coming along. It's not that I don't trust you, because I do."

He looked into Alfred's eyes and it was so, so different from looking into Tino's.

"I think I trust you more than anyone I've ever met. It's an incredibly stupid thing to do, but I do. I just- I'm mad at you too. I'm mad that you followed me here, because if you'd just stayed away you wouldn't have had to go through all of this. And I'm scared. Because the world almost blew up. Because someone held a gun at me. Because someone held a gun at you. Because you look so hurt right now, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you."

"I really, really like you too, Alfred. I don't know either. But I think that maybe-"

Alfred reach out and tenderly wiped a spot of blood off Arthur's face. "Yeah. I'd like that too, but we're gonna have to have a Talk once this is over. A Super Serious Talk. With feelings. And ground rules. And... And..."

Alfred was aware that he was cupping Arthur's face gently, thumb brushing across his face. Arthur was leaning into his touch. Actually, Arthur was just leaning into him, his body a slight weight stretching across Alfred's.

"I think this is the part where we make out."

They stood there, looking into each other's eyes and waiting for the other to lean in.

Neither of them leaned in.

Arthur pulled himself out of Alfred's embrace and took a step back.

"No. You're right. We need to have a Talk before this goes any further. Besides, I- I don't think I'm in any shape to be doing anything romantic."

Alfred went to get his shoe. "It's ok. Time and place, and all that. Are you going to be ok to walk on your own? I don't think I can carry both of you. I can drag Tino to Eduard and Lily and then come back for you. Or I could get you to them and then come back for Tino. That might be better, Lily probably knows, like, battlefield medicine. She should look you over. We can barricade Tino in a closet somewhere."

"Lily and Eduard?" Arthur repeated, lost.

"Oh." Alfred yanked out his shoelace with one hard pull and went to work making bindings. "I suppose I have a lot to fill you in on."

They made it back to the control room at a sedate pace. Alfred had pretended that Tino was more of a burden than he actually was so that Arthur wouldn't hurt himself by pushing too hard. To say Eduard was surprised that they had made it back would be an understatement. It was more or less beyond his comprehension that they had not only returned, but returned victorious. He'd snapped out of his shock when they'd given him something heavy and told him to hit Tino with it should he start moving again. He was standing guard in the corner now, looking terrified and eager in turn.

Lily had given them a short nod when they came in, a somber congratulations. Alfred had nodded back, he didn't have it in him for anything more enthusiastic.

After they'd surrendered to Tino's care and used what medical knowledge they possessed between the two of them to get Arthur settled, Lily had explained via pantomime and some help from Eduard that they had managed to make contact with the outside. The cavalry was hauling ass to their position, so all they had to do was hold tight and make sure Tino didn't make any more bids at nuclear devastation on the global scale.

There really wasn't much more to do now but wait.

They dragged Mathias in to join them, and Lily had quickly volunteered to watch him. Alfred, after standing awkwardly in the middle of the room for a few minutes, gave in and decided to bite the bullet and go over to where Arthur sat on the floor, carefully reclined against the wall.

There was a distance between them, one whose borders had been carefully drawn out and noted. Given time, they'd be able to take them down again. But, for now, instead of wrapping Arthur up in a tight embrace and staying that way until the rescue party came, Alfred slowly lowered himself to the floor and sat down next to him, a few scant, but significant, inches between them.

"You doing alright?"

"I'm not going to lie, some painkillers would be nice, but I can't complain. You and Lily got me pretty well sorted."

"That's good."

Arthur shifted slightly to take weight off a tender area. Alfred stretched out his legs and realized that he'd never put his shoe back on. He flexed his toes and watched his sock scrunch and unscrunch. He wasn't really sure what to say.

"So." Arthur broke the silence.

"So?"

"Are we going to have that talk now?"

"Actually, I was thinking of seeing if I could get back into the system and sneak a little peak at Area 51."

Arthur gaped at him, completely thrown. "What."

"Yeah, see, way I figure, if I can't get access to the files from here, I could at least gain access to a spy or targeting satellite. They wouldn't care, cause they'd think it was their satellite. Why would they spy on themselves? I could learn the truth about the existence of extraterrestrial life and the government's involvement in a conspiracy to cover it up. Besides, the government totally owes me one. And before you get started, I know. I could use that favor to be exempt from taxes for life, or get my face on money, or, I don't know. My own pet whale? But, come on, its aliens! What could be better than aliens?"

He turned to Arthur with a smile, a real smile, stretched across his face, waiting to hear whatever scathing but fond comeback Arthur had for him.

"I'm sorry." Arthur said instead. "I'm so, so sorry."

The smile slid off Alfred's face. Arthur looked... miserable. And not because of the bruises or the cuts. It was something deeper than physical pain.

"For what?"

"For ruining this - us - before we even got a chance to get started. You are the single greatest thing that's happened to me, and I've already managed to mess it up."

"It's not your fault. It's not." he protested when Arthur frowned. "We just- We had really bad timing. Who tries to start something in the middle of stopping a terrorist with a borderline stranger? Couples who've been together for way longer have fallen apart in situations way less stressful than that."

"Couples?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, a hint of his wry humor returning. Alfred went red.

"Well- I mean- I don't want to presume-"

Arthur snorted and nudged him in the side fondly.

"I'd like that. Us. But you're right. We need to have that talk first. I need to learn how to trust people again, really trust them. And you-" he turned a disapproving gaze at Alfred "need to learn to stop taking risks on a whim."

"Hey!" he protested "Saving you was not a whim! If it makes you feel better though, I promise not to get myself in more trouble with the government than I already am. Area 51 can remain a mystery."

Arthur just shook his head, but the look in his eyes was extremely fond.

"That's all I get? Come on. I'm giving up aliens for you!"

"My hero." Arthur replied dryly.

"Aliens." he stressed. "An answer to the question of whether or not I'm alone in the universe."

"You're not alone." Arthur smiled. "You've got me."

Alfred blushed, his pulse quickening.

Arthur's burst of courage suddenly left him, and he was left stammering at his own boldness.

"I- I mean- If you'll have me, that is."

Arthur moved his hand from his lap and set it in the space between them, flushed and looking almost scared that he was doing so with things so nebulous in between them. Alfred placed his hand on top of Arthur's and curled his fingers protectively around it.

He gave Arthur a small smile.

Arthur smiled back.

They were going to be ok, he thought. They had some things to work out, but they were going to be ok.

So, Alfred sat on the floor of a ransacked missile silo with a British spy, two known terrorists, and their one time captors while they waited for heavily armed soldiers and shadowy agents in snappy suits to come retrieve them. It wasn't the cleanest floor, nor the most well lit room, and neither the soldiers nor the agents were going to be particularly happy with him, despite all the good he'd done them. He had one shoe, a veritable garden of blooming bruises, no job, almost nothing to his name, and his fingers were intertwined with those of an incredible, but slightly infuriating, man who eventually gave into his exhaustion and fell asleep leaning into Alfred's right side.

Somehow, it was better than aliens.

[End Chapter]

After changing my mind half a dozen times on how this all was going to go down, I finally went with this. It's much less fluffy than some of my earlier drafts, but hopefully it meets your expectations.

We're almost done here, people. Just an epilogue left. I will try to pack as much fluff into it as possible.

Thank you to everyone who has come with me this far.

Continue?