It's the final countdown... XD

Warning: Angst, an almost-fight, tension (whether or not it is sexual is up to you), derogatory comments from America to Russia and likewise, innuendo from, you guessed it, France.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA. I have fun manipulating their characters, though

Then There Were Ten

"Well," Naturally, Alfred was the first to speak. "You are a persistent son of a bitch." He smiled.

"T-Turkey?" Arthur was absolutely gobsmacked. How the hell did someone so arrogant manage to survive? "How in the world did you…?"

Sadiq snorted, dropping his pack and rolling his eyes. "How do you think, British prick? I couldn't have swum over here. And it's not like I wanted to…" His eyes wandered to Alfred when he said the last sentence. Ever since they had met, Alfred's and Sadiq's equally arrogant dispositions tended to constantly clash.

Arthur frowned, folding his arms. "If you want to act like an impertinent arse, you don't have to stay here, you know."

Lovino rolled his eyes, though he still looked pretty nervous in the Turkish man's proximity. "Isn't he always?"

Sadiq smirked and patted the pommel of his kilij. "Ah, but I believe you want something that I have, no?"

Arthur scowled, but had the mind not to shout at the idiot. He resigned himself to muttering angrily under his breath, "Disrespectful git…"

Sadiq then switched his gaze to Alfred. "I am persistent, Romano. You of all people should know that."

Lovino snorted, but remained silent, swallowing his unease.

Alfred scoffed, "Dude, you're so full of yourself."

"And you're not?" Ivan cut in.

Alfred gave him an eat-shit glare. "Go fuck yourself, Russia. I'm through with you."

Francis then rushed forward out of nowhere, surprisingly balanced for being so drunk. He boldly latched onto Ivan's arm—something he would not have dared to do if he was sober. A leer parted his lips. "Ohonhonhonhon~but you don't have to do it by yourself, amour. I can help you, hic, if you wanted—"

Ivan gave Francis a disgusted look and shoved him roughly off of him. "Unhand me, бесполезны шлюха." Francis stumbled until he was caught unknowingly by Arthur, who rolled his eyes when Francis waggled his eyebrows at him. Ivan then directed his attention to Alfred. "You had better choose your words wisely, Amerika, lest I decide to do something about it."

Alfred growled, spreading his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Go right ahead, pal! I can take whatever you give me, as was proven multiple times in the past… and stop using your stupid commie accent when you say my name!"

"Only if you speak proper Russian when talking to me."

"What?! You're fuckin' crazy. I would never stoop so low as to learn your commie lang—"

"GENTLEMEN!" They all stared at Arthur, and the man uncomfortably cleared his throat and adjusted his collar that had been mussed by Franis leaning on him. "We are all civilized human beings, no? This is not how arguments should be settled."

Alfred scoffed. "Tell that to the guy whose whole army raped and killed millions of civilians."

Ivan was absolutely fuming. "You dare insult me when you have done more terrible things? It's a shame, really, that you haven't the capacity to realize how badly this could end for you."

Alfred took a couple steps toward him and looked him straight in the eyes. "Bring it, bitch."

"What sort of alliance is this?" Arthur broke in again. "Look at us… only a few hours we've been together, and we're already going for each other's throats!"

"Not necessarily." Ivan said, not taking his eyes off his opponent who stood stiffly in front of him. "I was also planning to go for someplace else also."

It took a moment for Alfred to process what he was saying. Then he snarled, "Oh, that's just low enough for you to even consider!"

Sadiq blinked in interest as the two men growled at each other, fists clenched at their sides. "Wow, if I knew it was this much of a mess here, I would never have come."

Arthur shook his head, staring at him sternly. "This is not the best time to be throwing offensive comments around, Turkey."

Sadiq shrugged. "I can easily solve this problem." He whipped out his kilij and thrust it between the two quarreling men. "What sort of greeting is this? I get off my plane and immediately after have two men ready to exchange blows in front of me? Wasn't that what I was trying to escape from in the first place?"

Alfred and Ivan glared at him, but Sadiq arrogantly held his position, eyeing them also. Ivan eventually broke his gaze to stare at Alfred in disgust. "It does not have to be limited to blows. I could use my pipe as well."

Alfred snarled, "You'll never be able to hit me."

Ivan smirked. "Oh, da? What did you call that time during our little 'competition', hm? Did you not come over to my house to brag about me losing the Baltics and I nearly knocked you out cold?"

Alfred scoffed, "That was only because my gun jammed."

"And whose fault was that?" Ivan sneered.

"You distracted me!"

"So you are admitting you can't focus most of the time?"

"No!" Alfred continued, furious. "And I would have knocked your lights out if you hadn't pinned me up against the wall and—" Alfred's words seem to catch in his throat and he made a choking sound, eyes darting down to the floor, his face red. Ivan stared at him, looking strangely smug.

"Al," Matthew pushed his way toward his twin and threw an arm around him. "Why do you always do this to yourself? You always feel it's your obligation to instigate every fight within a group of people."

"Oh," Alfred grunted, eyes still staring downward. "So you blame me too?"

Matthew sighed and rolled his eyes. "Al, you know I don't. Please don't make me have to fight you to calm you down. It's damn annoying."

Alfred released a long breath and straightened, knowing his brother would not appreciate an argument when he was so tired. After all, Alfred had been the one who had woken him up from his naps now… twice. He gave him a rueful smile and mussed Matthew's hair—something Alfred knew he absolutely loathed, but he still did it anyway.

"Sure, bro. You're right. Maybe we all just need to rest."

Arthur stared open-mouthed at him. Since when had Alfred stopped in the middle of a fight for any reason (a bit insulting to Arthur seeing as he tried to stop it earlier and shy, quiet Matthew ended up doing it)? But he wasn't going to let this opportunity escape him. "Right. To the chairs, the lot of you. Come on, get moving!"

There was little protest, though Arthur was sure everyone would have had something to say about his taking control if they hadn't been so exhausted. On his way to a chair spaced a safe distance from Francis and Ivan, he caught Alfred and the taller Russian exchange vicious glares.

Arthur sighed and sat in his chair, slumping with fatigue. "The end of the world comes and they still don't stop fighting…"

Ludwig settled in his chair, Feliciano snuggling close beside him, which made him more than a little uncomfortable, especially since he was receiving death glares from Lovino who sat adjacent to his brother. Francis and Gilbert seemed to have stopped their little drinking party to welcome the temptation of sleep. The alcohol had muddled their depth perception, and as so, they had no choice but to sleep on the floor, propped up against the wall, slumping into each other. Sadiq found a place on the floor in a corner across the room, leaning his back against the wall and allowing is eyes to slip closed, only to be woken by every snore or shift he heard. Matthew managed to settle Alfred down with a few quiet words and convinced him to sleep with his back to everyone else, pulling two chairs together to form a makeshift bed. Matthew then watched his brother to make sure he wouldn't wander off while they were sleeping to try to murder Ivan and eventually settled into his own chair, falling asleep with his hand propping up his head. Ivan, meanwhile, sat brooding for a good ten minutes—a time in which Arthur didn't dare close his eyes—his purple aura disappearing and his constant string of 'kolkolkol's finally subsiding, the man becoming absolutely still, his back straight, his hands rested in his lap. If not for the loud snore that resonated from the Russian, Arthur would not have known he had fallen asleep.

He shivered. Creepy… Arthur wondered how someone could possibly fall asleep sitting perfectly upright as if they were awake, but when he considered the fact that Ivan had Natalya constantly harassing him, he supposed Ivan just slept that way out of habit. More like necessity. He thought, drifting off to sleep himself, not caring if there was no one to keep watch. Surely Ivan or Sadiq would hear someone coming. As for him, he was too damn tired.

Translations:

бесполезны шлюха-worthless whore

A Word From the Writer: Pride is a cock-blocking little bitch. Then again, so is Turkey. Why you interrupt them Turkey? They could have done something (sexual)!

Nah, Turkey's cool. Everyone needed a break from the tension anyway.

*CoughbutyouoweussomeRusAmelater...cough*

Onward~!