This chapter was inspired by the song 'It's The End Of The World As We Know It' by R.E.M.
It's The End Of The World As We Know It
Prussia kicked the zombie in the chest and brought the baseball bat down on its head. Brains splattered on his boots and he jumped backwards.
"Oh, gross!"
"Nice one!" America cried, knocking another zombie to the dirt. He hit it with an axe and sidestepped the gore to punch Prussia on the shoulder. "The first three rows will get wet!"
Prussia punched him back and stepped around another zombie. It was another five minutes and thirteen zombies before there was a moment to catch their breath. The two of them collapsed against each other.
"That was… That was…" Prussia gasped.
"Awesome!"
He turned to glare at the other nation.
"You're not allowed to use that word…"
"Ah, bite me."
"You wish."
The street was littered with garbage and dead bodies. The cars were crumpled and coated with guts and brains. Shopping carts were turned over. Tattered clothing fluttered in the wind.
It had been a decade since armageddon and the dead still walked the earth.
Prussia scanned the horizon, looking for a gleam of blonde hair amongst the colourless debris. The town was ruined, just like the last one and the one before it. It was an occupational hazard in these difficult times.
"What's keeping him?"
"Mattie will be fine," America patted him on the back. "You know him, the zombies would have to catch him first."
"Still…"
Canada sprinted around the corner with a worn satchel and a handful of white. He was missing a shoe but it seemed to be the least of his worries.
"Go, go, go!" He screamed, dashing past them. Prussia and America exchanged glances.
"Where's the fire?" America shouted, laughing.
"Behind me!"
The two of them turned just in time to see a horde of at least a hundred more zombies turning the same corner.
"Oh shit…"
"That was… That was…" Canada sat on the wooden fence and massaged his bare foot. The horde was far enough behind them that he could wrap it with bits of his shirt and some old twine.
"Not awesome!" America supplied. Prussia smacked him upside the head.
"You still can't use that word."
He bent down to examine his foot but Canada hissed and pulled back his leg.
"Yeowch," America rubbed the back of his head. "I thought that town was 'clean' now. Where did you even find those bastards?"
"In the meadow…"
"What the fuck were you doing in the meadow? That's not part of the safe zone!"
Canada lowered his gaze and mumbled into his scarf.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," he drawled with his hands on his hips.
"I said," Canada reached behind him and held up a handful of miniscule white clovers, "that I was picking flowers."
"You risked your life for… Flowers?" America asked, confused. Prussia looked between the clovers and Canada, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"No," Canada returned the smile, "I risked my life for flowers… For Gilbert."
He tucked them behind his ear and kissed his cheek. Prussia burst into laughter, caught somewhere between anger and absolute happiness.
"You idiot! You absolute idiot! I love you!"
"Uhm… Am I missing something?"
Prussia was not sure whether he wanted to beat the shit out of the endearing blonde or hug him and never let go. He had complained last week, in passing conversation, that he had not seen a single flower since the end of the world.
And so Canada had brought him flowers, at the risk of his own life.
He grabbed the lapels of his jacket and shook him.
"If you ever, ever do that again, there won't be anything left for the zombies. You hear me? I will kill you!"
Canada laughed and kissed him again, this time on the other cheek.
"Yes dear."
America rifled through the satchel and pulled out multiple cans without labels. He studied them in the sunlight.
"What do you think is in this one?"
"Lima beans," Canada decided. America held up another can.
"And this one?"
"Corn."
"… Are you just guessing?"
"Yes. Yes, I am."
The three of them were walking down an old dirt road towards their campsite, keeping a look out for wandering zombies. Most of the undead kept to the cities and towns but their location was impossible to guarantee and no one wanted to chance it.
"Why do you even care?" Prussia wondered. "Food is food."
"I don't like green peas," America shrugged. Canada bit his lip and tried to stifle his laughter.
Prussia stopped short.
"Seriously?! That's what you're worried about?! Not the zombies or starving or exposure?!"
"Hey, green peas are fucking terrifying..."
Prussia twirled the clover between his fingers in wonderment. Each flower was perfect and beautiful. Canada came up beside him and reached for his other hand.
America walked ahead of them, muttering to himself and sorting through the satchel. He grimaced whenever he came across a vegetable he did not like.
"What are you thinking about?" Canada asked. He ran his thumb over his knuckles, soft and soothing despite the dirt under his fingernails.
"I'm thinking about what an idiot you are…"
"Then why are you smiling?"
Prussia touched his face.
"Am I?"
"Mmhmm."
"It's just…" He paused. "I never thought that I would see a flower again. Thank you."
"You're welcome," Canada laughed. He put his hand on the base of his neck and pulled Prussia down, planting a kiss on his lips.
It was a little desperate.
"Mmmpff!"
"We're back!" America shouted as the campsite came into view. Humans and nations scrambled out of the shelters, armed to the teeth. "And we brought food!"
Northern Italy ran up to them and Prussia twirled him around before setting him back down.
"You're still alive!"
"It would take more than a couple of zombies to kill us," Prussia laughed. Northern Italy stole the satchel from America and started digging through it.
"What did you bring me? What did you bring me?!"
America ruffled his hair.
"Actually, we have no idea. Half of the labels are missing."
"Do you think that there might be pasta?"
"Man, I hope so."
Germany marched over to them and took the satchel from Northern Italy with a stern expression. Northern Italy giggled and hugged his arm.
He saluted his brother.
"Good job."
"Always," Prussia returned the gesture with a flick of his wrist and a smirk.
More nations swarmed them, at least the ones who had survived armageddon, to shake their hands and ask questions. The cans of food were passed out amongst them.
"What happened?"
"What took you so long?"
"Are you alright?"
Canada cleared his throat and started weaving between them, tugging Prussia behind him.
"Look, we would love to chat but we have a... Uhm, a date."
"A… Date?" Germany asked. Prussia leaned forward and pretended to whisper in his ear as he walked past. He did not lower his voice at all.
"He means sex. Lots and lots of sex."
"Shut up, Gilbert."
Germany looked at America and motioned after them.
"… What was that about?"
America shrugged.
"Something about zombies and green peas and flowers... I stopped paying attention. They were weird before the apocalypse and they're weird now."
Germany and Northern Italy just nodded and watched them go.
Author's Notes:
This was just a bit of fun because the last couple of chapters were so depressing. I would like to write more pieces set after the apocalypse. I very much enjoyed writing this one and chapter thirty five before it.
Also, zombies.
I think that these three would be a perfect at running for supplies. Canada would do most of the legwork because he is hard to see and hard to catch. Prussia and America would be muscle.
And yes, they were idiots before the end of the world, and they're still idiots. But sometimes a simple flower means so much more. It can mean hope.
America… Sweetheart… You're an idiot too… You were never paying attention. And eat your green peas, damn it!
We hit four hundred reviews! What do I do? What do I do?! (Runs around in circles.)