Back into the town of death we go, tralalalalaaa~!

Warning: Angst, insults, threat using a weapon other stuff...

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

Ambush

"God, finally!"

Marge appeared from an aisle, holding up a can opener with a victorious smile. "Holy crap! I thought I'd never find one among all the debris and everything. The people who swept through here before us nearly cleared this whole place out!"

"Ja," Ludwig said. "Put it in your bag. I would like if we could get out of here as fast as possible." He held his gun at the ready as he peered cautiously around the store.

"Shì," Yao agreed, hefting his wok in his hand. "It not wise to linger in a place too long if we already faced dangers close by." He turned to the door. "Kiku! Is everything clear?"

Silence.

"… Kiku?" Yao had paled considerably as the younger nation continued not to respond.

"Oh no…" Marge muttered, taking out her rifle.

"There is another door." Ludwig said quietly. "We can go out that way."

Yao looked at him as if he was crazy. "But Kiku is still out there. He may be in trouble!"

"Nein!" Ludwig snapped as Yao began to walk toward the front doors. "Kiku is fast and good at getting out of things. He'll meet up with us when we've gone out the side door. He will be waiting for us there if he still knows strategy well."

"He could be hurt!" Yao flashed back, his knuckles white on the handle of his wok. "I cannot leave him out there to be captured."

"Yao, no!" Ludwig called, but Yao was already heading toward the doors.

Ludwig had no choice. Yao would make it through the doors before he could, so he motioned for Marge to follow him. "And keep your rifle ready." he warned.

They joined up with Yao who had abruptly stopped to look around. Ludwig put a cautious hand on his shoulder as he did so, and Yao stepped through the shattered glass door frames.

Ludwig breathed a sigh of relief as well as Marge. The way was clear: the streets were empty as well as the length of the building. But there was still one thing missing.

"Where is Kiku?" Yao asked anxiously, eyes darting around.

"Maybe he's on top of the building keeping watch?" Marge suggested

"Ja, maybe—wait a second." Ludwig had watched many horror movies in his life and he always knew the one place the victims neglected to look: up.

Just then, they heard the anxiously high-pitched voice of Kiku yelling from above: "Run! It's a trap!"

But before he could tip his head up to examine the top of the building, there was a rustling and the sound of dozens of feet dropping to the ground behind them. Guns were cocked and Ludwig did not turn. They were caught.

"So," came a sly male voice. "You decided to come back for more, eh?"

"Ow! Be careful, Mattie! It's tender back there!"

"Stop shouting, Gilbert, you'll attract attention."

They were all sitting or standing around the clearing, watching the day's current spectacle: Matthew trying to pick glass shards out of Gilbert's back while the man writhed and groaned in pain.

Gilbert flinched as the Canadian continued to dig through the damaged layers of his flesh. When he got the glass shard halfway out though, Gilbert whimpering, Matthew felt his stomach heave.

He might skin animals and rid them of their organs but for some reason he couldn't seem to not get sick when dealing with human injuries.

Matthew tried to hold down a heave and said, "Uh… Arthur? Could you please take over from here? I don't feel well…"

"What is wrong, lapin?" Francis asked with concern. "As-tu malade?"

Matthew looked meekly at him. "Non, non, père. I just…" Matthew chanced a glance at Gilbert's desecrated back again and held down another heave. "I tend to get a little queasy when it comes to blood…"

"But I've seen you skin and de-gut animals, brah." Alfred said with a cock of his head.

Matthew shook his head. "Animals are… different."

"Different? Pfft!" Alfred walked over to Gilbert and Arthur who was now kneeling behind the Prussian. "What's so different? Here, Artie, I'll help. I'm not a pussy."

Matthew scowled at him. "Humans have emotions! And no, Alfred, get away from him!" Matthew lunged forward to pull his brother back by the shoulder. "I'm not a pussy either. How do you think I made it all the way here? By being a chicken?"

Alfred gave him a confused look. "Dude, I can totally help him. I've dealt with these kinds of injuries before!" He ignored the last part, much to Matthew's annoyance.

"No, you can't." Matthew said through gritted teeth. "I would know. You don't happen to remember that time when we were little and I got a scrape and you wanted to play doctor?"

Alfred smiled nostalgically. "Oh yeah, you climbed the fence to get our ball from our neighbor's yard. Damn, you were clumsy."

Matthew scoffed. "Only because you insisted I climb the fence instead of asking the neighbors to get it. And once I fell, you decided to break out some scissors and try to dig all the dirt out of the cut."

Francis looked at Alfred in disbelief. "Why did you not think to tell me?"

"Us," Arthur growled temperamentally as he picked the glass out of Gilbert's wounds. "It was a play date, remember? … And the only one, mind you…"

"Well if you were his caretaker, why did you not teach Alfred to come to you if there was an accident?" Francis asked.

Arthur snorted. "He had tons of 'accidents.' If I told him to come to me whenever there was something wrong, I wouldn't get any peace. Mind you I still wasn't getting peace with all of his nightmares…"

"I did not have nightmares, bro!"

"Oh, shut it already, git."

"You mean, you just let him do whatever he wanted and as long as he was out of your way, you were fine?" Francis asked incredulously.

"No!" Arthur replied offensively. "I was never that negligent with him!"

Francis rolled his eyes. "And I guess that's why he broke away from you…"

Arthur was about to make a heated rebuttal, but gave an aggravated grunt as he dug particularly deep, Gilbert arching and yelping in pain. When he got the shard out and tossed it away, Arthur muttered, "How dare you accuse me of being a bad brother?"

Ivan scoffed coldly. "Alfred was a rebel, nyet? What do you suppose made him that way, comrade?"

At this, Arthur stood and glared at Ivan. "Say that one more time and I'll knock you one."

Ivan gave a smug smile. "Heheh, I will not object to that, but I doubt you will get very far before I knock you out."

Arthur continued to glare at him, Ivan smiling his fuck-you smile, unblinking, until he gave a great huff and crouched down, returning to probing Gilbert's back for shards.

"U-uh, wait there, tea cozy." Gilbert said quickly, arching away from his hands. "I don't think I want you anywhere near my back, ja?"

Arthur scoffed. "Whatever," He got up, rubbing his hands together and throwing a glance at Alfred.

"… I didn't think you were a bad brother…" Alfred murmured and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

Arthur's face brightened a bit. "Thank you, Alfred." Then he glared around at the rest of them. "Your opinion is all that matters." he spat venomously.

After a few moments of silence in which Arthur made a beeline for his tent and disappeared inside to sulk, Gilbert said, "Eh… could someone awesomely help me? I can feel blood running down my back. It is not an awesome feeling…"

Lovino, surprisingly, stepped forward. "Che, dumb bastard." And he knelt, taking up the bandages, soaked in disinfectant, from the bag beside him and wrapping them around Gilbert's back.

"Are all the shards out?" Gilbert asked hopefully, wincing as the medicine stung his scars, Lovino finishing up.

"Mostly," Arthur called from the tent somberly.

"You had better hope, crumpet-eater…"

"Stop bitching, potato bastard." Lovino snapped, pulling particularly hard on Gilbert's bandages and making him gasp. "At least you can still function properly. I think my whole fucking arm is useless…"

"Lucky you, then." Gilbert flashed back with a laugh. "It's just another excuse for you to unawesomely refuse to do anything."

At this, the Italian 'accidentally' stabbed a deep wound on Gilbert's back, pushing his thumb in deeply for a few moments while Gilbert cried out and tried to wriggle away. "Sorry," Lovino mocked. "My fucking mistake."

"Hurry it along, Lovino." Matthew urged, feeling like he would be sick if Lovino continued. "We still have to get to your shoulder."

"All right, all right, damn." Lovino growled as he tied off the bandages. "There. You're done, bastard. Be grateful."

Gilbert quickly got to his feet, pulling his shirt down. "Grateful that you're not a doctor." the albino muttered, earning a scathing look from Lovino.

"How's my fratello?" Lovino asked Matthew. "Did you give him the pills?"

Matthew nodded, recalling the fever medication he had given the Italian as soon as he woke up. "Yes. He's resting for now."

Lovino walked over to the tent that Feliciano shared with Ludwig.

"Please try not to wake him." Matthew called after him. "He needs to sleep."

"Fuck," Alfred said. "I could sleep all day if I wasn't so goddamned hungry."

"We are all hungry, Alfred." Ivan grumbled.

Alfred huffed as he dropped, spread-eagle, onto the ground. "Fuck, I'm exhausted."

Sadiq scoffed. "Oh, stop acting like everyone else isn't. At least you can still walk."

"How's your ankle, Sadiq?" Matthew asked with concern.

Sadiq flashed a somber smile. "Better than yesterday. Though it's gotten a bit stiff."

Matthew smiled in relief. "Well, that's good. At least it's not swelling or anything. After the others get back and we can eat, I'll give you some antibiotics. The mediciation will eat your stomach lining otherwise."

"I guess I shouldn't walk for a while, eh?"

"Yeah," Matthew replied. "I estimate it'll take you at least a couple of weeks to get back on your feet, and even then you'll still be limping. You're lucky the trap just got the muscle and not the bone. Someone will just have to help you get arou—"

Everyone tensed as sharp, distant blasts were heard. Alfred immediately sat up. "What the hell was that?"

"They sounded like gunshots." Ivan replied, hand wandering into his coat to grasp his rifle.

There was a rustling and the flap of a tent flipped open and Arthur stuck his head out. "Oh my God, that came from the direction of the town!"

Alfred produced his gun as quick as a flash. "Jesus Christ! I knew I shouldn't have let them go!" And he began to make his way to the path that led into town.

"No!" Matthew said, grabbing his brother around the waist and pulling him back. "We can't. It's too dangerous!"

"My daughter's out there!"

"No, Alfred." Arthur said firmly, darting from his tent to stand in front of the ex-colony with his arms spread wide. "This is what gets you into trouble—rushing into situations that you don't even know are worth rushing into."

There was another shot, this time closer. Alfred felt a pain pulse in his left shoulder.

Alfred glared maliciously at Arthur and raised his handgun, cocking it, aiming it at Arthur's forehead. "Get out of my way."

"Al!" Matthew snapped, trying to push his arm down, but it was locked in place.

Arthur stared in shock at him, then muttered, "You're being rash."

"I. Don't. Care." Alfred said through gritted teeth. "Now get out of my way."

"I have more experience in this area than you do." Arthur said sternly, standing his ground and looking Alfred straight in the eyes. He would show this impudent brat! "You would do well to listen to me."

"Yeah, but you don't have a daughter who's out there right now!"

"I have you," Arthur said, ignoring all the looks he received from around the camp. "And I don't want you to go out there when those four can handle themselves just fine and have the rebels see you. You'd be killed on the spot!"

Alfred seemed to think on it for a few moments, all the while everyone else standing with bated breath and weapons out and ready around the clearing.

Then, "Try and stop me." And he lowered his gun, shoving past Arthur who tried and failed to stop him.

"Ivan!"Arthur shouted desperately. "Stop him!"

Ivan, though, didn't even act as if he heard Arthur. "I am going with him. Yao-Yao and the others may need help."

Arthur looked incredulously at the Russian.

"Ja, you can't go without the awesome me!" Gilbert said, getting to his feet. And I can check on West…

"Don't even ask us." Lovino called from the tent. "You are all crazy dumbasses."

"Ve~What was that sound, Lovi?"

"Nothing, fratello, go back to sleep."

"I want to go." Sadiq said, trying to stand, but his ankle gave out and he slid down the trunk of the tree he had been leaning against.

"No, Sadiq," Matthew said, going over to him. "You have to stay here. And so do I. I have to make sure you're okay."

"I'll be fine! Honestly, I'm not made of glass."

"I'm staying here anyway."

"D'accord," Francis said, taking out his gun. "I'm going too."

"You're all mad!" Arthur exclaimed in disbelief. "We can't go! If they see us—"

Just then, leaves rustled and heavy footsteps could be heard coming towards the camp through the trees. Everyone tensed and drew their weapons, aiming them in the direction of the sounds. In front of Sadiq, Matthew crouched, rifle at the ready.

"Alfred…" Arthur hissed, motioning for him to rejoin the group.

"No," Alfred hissed back. "I wanna face these bastards head-on."

They all waited for what seemed like hours when they heard panting, heavy footfalls, growling, and a dragging sound.

Then a figure emerged from the brush. Alfred raised his gun. "Hands up, you worthless sonofabitch!"

The man stiffened, then throwing his hands up as ordered, he said breathlessly, "Please… put down your gun, Alfred-san."

Alfred did just that. "K-Kiku…?"

"Hai," the smaller man said as another figure emerged from the surrounding trees. "Yao-sama, bring him over here."

"Who…?" Arthur asked warily.

Yao materialized out of the forest, wrestling with someone who was screaming at the top of his lungs, "Get the hell off me, bastard! Let me go!"

There was a shing and Kiku was holding his katana to the scruffy man's throat. "I suggest you be still."

The man immediately stopped struggling, staring pathetically at Kiku. "P-please… d-don't kill me. Please, let me go! I won't tell them where you are, honest!"

"Who is he?" Alfred asked.

"I am wanting to know the same thing." Ivan said. "What is your purpose bringing this scum into our camp?"

Kiku looked at them, opening his mouth and closing it again, seeming unable to speak. Then, Ludwig appeared through the bushes, carrying something in his arms.

"What is—oh God." Arthur said, clapping a hand to his mouth.

Translations:

Shì-Yes

As-tu malade?-Are you sick?

A Word From the Writer: CLIFFHANGER FTW! Well, at least you know whatever it is, it's probably going to be bad. Until then, paranoia=overdrive.