Of course things get worse!

Warning: Angst, chase, suspense, injuries, someone passes out, drama.

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

From Problem to Problem

They all tumbled on top of each other, writhing in a heap of bodies.

It was so dark that it was hard to make out faces, even if they were close to their own. At first, no one dared speak, afraid of what would happen if they did.

Then, "… Dammit, Ivan, you're crushing my arm!"

"Nyet. I am nowhere near you, Alfred." Ivan's voice came from a few feet away in the pile.

Alfred wrinkled his brow. "What…? Then who's…?" The American's heart leaped into his throat at the sight of the shadowy form moving near him.

"Alfred?" Hands reached out to find his shoulders, moving along them to his face. They lingered a bit on his glasses before venturing higher to brush over his ahoge. Alfred shivered and the other man pulled him into an embrace. "Alfred, it is you. Thank God…"

"Artie? What the hell?" Alfred looked around. "Is everyone else here, too?" He stumbled out of the pile and said, "Wynston? Wynston!"

"Right here, Pa."

"Oh, thank goodness."

Ludwig stood and slipped his brother off of his back, leaning him up against a wall. "Sound off!"

"Alfred!"

"Wynston!"

"Arthur,"

"Yao,"

"Ugh… K-Kiku…"

"Dammit, fratello, stop clinging to me—Lovino!"

"Pastaaa~!"

A pause.

"Okay… so Feliciano's here. Ahem, continue."

"M-Matthew,"

"Francis~!"

There was a harsh cough. "S-Sadiq…"

"Ivan,"

"Right," Ludwig said, glancing over at the Prussian passed out beside him to make sure he was still there. "And Gilbe—wait, bruder!"

"What's going on?" Arthur demanded hesitantly. It took a lot to make Ludwig sound that frightened. "Is Gilbert well?"

"He's gone!" Ludwig said, looking around, reaching out blindly in the dark. "Verdammt. What I wouldn't give for a flashlight… I must have dropped it in the tunnels."

"Everyone, feel around for Gilbert!" Arthur commanded and immediately felt a hand grope his behind. "Francis!"

"Quoi, cher? I am just looking~"

"Then look somewhere else!"

"Oh… but it feels like I need to investigate more here~"

"Get your slimy hands off me, frog!"

"Fine," Francis moved off of him and not a second later, there was a yell and a slapping sound. Francis groaned. "Aïe! What did you do that for, chéri?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, wine bastard, and keep your hands off me and my fratello!"

"Francis, this is serious. Could you please act it?" Arthur snapped.

Francis smirked in the dark. "But, cher, I am firmly serious."

Arthur huffed and muttered a 'shut up', turning around to look, only to bump his nose into something solid. He peered up.

"Looking for something, comrade?" Ivan asked, and at first Arthur was confused. Then he realized that his hands were way too low to be good. He quickly snatched them up and laughed weakly, darting past Ivan and nearly tripping over Sadiq—who was still sitting on the floor.

"Hey! Watch your feet, British klutz!"

Arthur apologized and was just about to feel around an unchecked part of the wall when he felt hands grab him and pull him up close to a hard chest, spinning him around in the process. A knife was pressed to his neck. The hands holding him were shaking and he could feel blood ooze from a shallow cut on his throat from the tip of the blade.

"Nobody move!" Everyone froze. The man clicked on a flashlight in his other hand, holding it under his chin. "I have an stuffy British nag and I'm not afraid to use him!"

Arthur immediately went from scared out of his mind to furious to the core. He wriggled out of the man's grip and snatched up the flashlight, pointing it at him so that the light attacked his eyes.

"Gilbert, you selfish arse! We were looking for you!"

Gilbert threw his hands up to shield his eyes from the harsh light and squinted. "Heh, don't get unawesomely upset, fairy princess, I was only joking. Kesesese!"

Ludwig marched over to him and yanked on his ear. Gilbert gave a harsh cry. "Du verdammter Blödmann! What is wrong with you?"

"Es tut mir leid! Es tut mir leid!" Gilbert said until Ludwig let go. In the light of the flashlight, Ludwig looked even more scary than in regular daylight when angry. "Jeez," Gilbert rubbed his ear. "None of you can take a joke."

"That was no joke!" Ludwig growled. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! You are lucky I didn't pull your ear off!"

Ivan took out his pipe. "Gilbert is in need of some punishment, da? I would be happy to oblige~"

Gilbert backed himself against the wall. "Wait! You all thought I was dead and now here I am, safe and sound, and you'll let that psychopath kill me?!"

Arthur shrugged. "Well, you would deserve it."

"I cannot save you this time, ami." Francis replied.

"What did you just call me, Gilbert?" Ivan prompted, smiling creepily as he patted his pipe in the palm of his gloved hand.

"Nothing! My speech is slurred!" Gilbert slid down the wall to sit at the foot. "Ha… Damn, all that joking has me winded."

"Here," Matthew said, venturing forward. "Let me check your back—"

"Hayır," Sadiq grumbled from on the floor. "I… my ankle… I need help standing."

Matthew paused, midst, unsure of what to do.

Yao stepped forward. "I will do." He crouched down to lift up Gilbert's shirt; it was soaked in blood. He stuck out his hand and motioned with his fingers. "Flashlight," Arthur handed it to him and they all watched as Yao ran his fingers over the bandages, examining them. Gilbert flinched, biting back a groan.

"Ai-ya," Yao shook his head. "I am surprised that you could stand."

"Kesese! I am so awesome I can do anything when I'm sick." Gilbert laughed again, but was cut off by a raspy cough. "Uh… Yao… turn-turn that flashlight back on. It's so damn dark…"

"Dude," Alfred said. "What're you talking about? It's still on."

Gilbert stiffened. "W-what? What's going on?"

"He's lost too much blood." Arthur grabbed one of Gilbert's hands. "Your hands are cold."

"Thanks for informing me." Gilbert said flatly, snatching his hand back. "I'm not going to pass out again, am I?"

"You'd better not." Arthur replied, handing him a flask. "Water. Drink it. Lots of it."

"But… I'm not that thirsty… more sleepy…"

"Drink it bloody git or you'll die!"

Gilbert grudgingly took the water, mumbling something about awesomely haunting them all if they let him die. He drank down a few gulps, but a growl from Arthur told him to drink more.

When Arthur was satisfied, Gilbert gave back the flask, trying to get to his feet, though not succeeding.

"Don't move," Ludwig walked over. "I will carry you."

Gilbert snorted. "Like I would let that happen… consciously. You'll only hurt yourself, bruder. And you need your back."

"Now is not the time to be gal ant, bastard." Lovino growled.

"I will carry him," Ivan suggested with a smile. Gilbert tensed. "If he wants."

Gilbert looked stuck, but he eventually sighed and said, "All right. My bruder is tired. And don't you try to tell me otherwise, West, because I know you." Ludwig, who had been about to say something, shut his mouth. Gilbert looked up at Ivan. "Just… be gentle, ja?"

All Ivan gave in answer was a smile, and Gilbert looked to be having second thoughts as he was scooped up and he clung to Ivan's back. He made sure to keep his hands clasped around the Russian's throat just in case.

With that, they all headed out of the bunker, emerging in a shallow river. They slowed so that no one could hear their splashing and looked around.

"Where are we?" Kiku asked, hand on his katana where it hung at his side.

Wynston walked out further, scanning the forest before them. "I dunno… gimme a second…"

Sadiq heard men calling to each other not far behind them, voices echoing out of the mouth of the tunnel from which they just came. "We might not have a second." He was breathing heavily, as if he couldn't get enough air. "I… don't feel well."

Matthew clutched the man's arm more securely as he said, "We can't keep running like this. We have to find shelter. We need to rest and give Sadiq and Gilbert some time to get better."

"Wynston?" Alfred asked anxiously.

"I'm tryin'!" he flashed back, more out of fear than anger.

"Well, try harder!" Arthur snapped, slipping his pistol out of its holster.

"Dammit," Wysnton swore, practically pulling out his hair. "Marge is a lot better at this!"

Alfred felt his heart drop into his stomach at the name and he felt a new rush of tears come to his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. The time for grieving was over. Fixing all of this would be what his baby wanted, and he wasn't going to let her death slow him down. She still had her other brothers and sisters that needed help.

Wynston then gave a cry of triumph and pointed to a dense copse of trees just across the river.

Without a word, everyone followed. They were anxious to get out of the open as quickly as possible, but they also wanted to keep quiet. So they made their way across the river at an agonizingly slow pace, on tiptoe as not to disturb the water, the sound of mens' voices getting closer and closer every second.

Since Matthew was helping Sadiq along, he was the slowest. And everyone in their haste seemed to forget about him. His heart pounded against his ribs as the voices neared, sounding close to the mouth of the tunnel. Beside him, Sadiq's shallow breaths came faster.

And then his foot caught a rock.

A cry clawed its way out of his throat, but at the last moment Matthew thought to hold it in. All he gave was a squeak as he fell, throwing both arms around Sadiq and moving so that he took the most damage instead of the already injured man.

He gave a grunt, practically a scream in his throat, as he landed on his knee on the hard stones of the river, feeling a great shock of pain shoot up from it. Held tightly to his side, safe from the larger rocks of the river, Sadiq's breath warmed Matthew's cheek.

"Are you all right?" Matthew asked.

Sadiq gave him a dazed look, as if he were sleeping with his eyes open. "Mattie…" His words were barely a whisper. "My damn leg…" And he closed his eyes.

Matthew felt Sadiq's full weight slump against him and the Canadian's heart gave an alarmed flutter. He shook the Turk.

"Sadiq?" he whispered. Then his voice rose to what sounded close to a squeak. "Sadiq, wake up. Sadiq!" The men's voices reminded him that they had to get to the trees. But everyone had left him…

… a shoe appeared by him, and Matthew nearly shrieked, looking up.

Alfred and Ivan were standing over them.

"Sadiq, he—" Matthew began, but Alfred shushed him.

"Later," he muttered, scooping Matthew up in his arms. Ivan did the same with Sadiq. At that, they broke into a dead run, not caring if anyone heard or not. It was either that, or go the slow, cautious way and risk being spotted.

They got to the trees just in time to see a group of men emerge from the tunnel, looking around, flashlights flickering on the trees.

"Down!" Kiku hissed and everyone dropped to the forest floor just as the flashlights passed over their heads. Matthew gave a grunt of pain as he knee was jostled, but bit his lip to keep in whimpers, tears gathering at the edges of his eyes at the pain.

A few minutes passed before the men left, flashlights fading into the distance. They all waited a few moments to make sure they were gone before rising to their feet.

Alfred set Matthew down on his good leg, giving him a worried look. "What happened?"

Matthew exhaled shakily before saying, "I fell,"

"Did you hurt yourself, mon fils?" Francis asked frantically, shouldering his way over to him.

Matthew swallowed. For once he felt grateful for Francis's concern. He may not have been able to have experienced it again if something had gone terribly wrong. "My knee… it doesn't feel broken, though."

Yao walked over and stooped to examine it. Gently, he pushed on the kneecap with his finger. The joint moved, as if floating, and Matthew gave a whimper at the pain. The Chinese man stood. "Dislocated,"

Francis gave a relieved sigh. "Oh, merci Dieu," He reached out and ran his fingers down Matthew's cheeks. "I will not let you out of my sight again, lapin. I'm sorry,"

"You don't have to apologize, Papa," Matthew said with a little smile. Then he remembered. "Sadiq?" He looked at Ivan, who was still holding Sadiq in his arms. Matthew walked over to him, fingers pressing against the Turk's neck to find a pulse. At first, he couldn't find it, and he panicked. But when his fingers brushed over the soft heartbeat, he relaxed. "He's still alive." Matthew murmured. He blinked his eyes, startled that his vision was blurring. He reached up to adjust his glasses and felt wetness trickle down his cheek. Why was he crying? Just relief, Matthew mused. If anything, Matthew didn't want to be part of the reason the man died.

Ivan looked down at Sadiq. "He is so limp. He must have fainted."

"Oh verdammt," Gilbert growled, leaning up against a tree. Ludwig held his arm so that he wouldn't fall. "Not another one."

Feliciano gave a soft sob. "Is… is Sadiq going to die?"

"No, you idiot," Lovino snapped back, though he sounded apprehensive. "He's just passed out. Like the potato bastard's brother just a few minutes ago…"

"We need to get him to a safe place." Arthur said. "Him and Gilbert both. We can't move around a lot until they get better. We'll have to find some sort of shelter to camp out in for a few days…"

"I think there's a town close by." Wynston said. "We could go there. I'm sure most of the houses are abandoned."

"No," Alfred said, so harshly that everyone tensed. "No, I'm not going back to another town. Not after…" His voice broke and he looked at the ground. He cleared his throat and said, his voice calmer now, "It's too dangerous. We can't risk it."

Wynston looked hurt by the tone in his father's voice. "Pa… I've scouted this town millions of times since the Uprisin'. I knew a lot of families there. They're all gone. This ain't a city. It's a few small neighborhoods with a shoppin' center an' a school. There's nothin' of worth there. That's why everyone left. There's nothin' else to loot, no resources to come by. But as far as I know, you have everythin' you need. How do we know if we don't try?"

"No," Alfred insisted. "Don't you try to convince me. That happened the last time!" Alfred wasn't aware that his voice had risen to a shout until everyone was staring at him.

Wynston blinked and his voice grew small. "But, there are plenty of you to defend whatever shelter we choose. An' ya still have weapons an' ammo, an'—"

Alfred's mind was filled with panic and rage, too lost in his emotions to think his words through before he said them, and before he knew it, he was shouting, "You're sister's dead because of that kind of thinking!"

The look of grief in Wynston's hazel eyes made Alfred's heart plummet. His mouth was dry and he was shaking. He didn't know what to say.

Wynston cleared his throat. "Which one?" It was almost as if he didn't want to know the answer.

Alfred felt his eyes burn again, but he would not cry in front of his son, though Marge's death was still so fresh in his mind. "Montana,"

"Marge?" Wynston said, his voice small as he looked at the ground. He expelled a shaky breath. "How?"

Alfred shook his head, not wanting to recall the details. "You don't need to know that."

"She was murdered, wasn't she?" Wynston flashed Alfred a stony look. "That would be the only reason I could think of as to why you refuse to tell me."

Alfred chewed his bottom lip, his throat growing scratchy. "Yes," he croaked.

Wynston looked at the ground again, clenching and unclenching his fists. After a moment, he looked back up again, glaring in hate. "You're lyin'!"

Alfred stared at him in disbelief. "No, son, I'm not."

Wynston kept up his anger. "You are! She's just… gone. Somewhere, right? She left an'… an' you don't know if she's alive or not, but she's Marge an' she can shoot the edge of a card at ninety feet, and she can handle herself, an'…" His eyes filled with tears.

Alfred felt his own tears coming on, but he warded them away as he put a hand on Wynston's shoulder. "Rider, you know I wouldn't lie about this."

"N-no…" Wynston sniffed and wiped his face—much in the same way Alfred did with his sleeve. Yep, it was obvious that Alfred had raised him, Arthur couldn't help but notice as he studied the snot on his sleeve with distaste. "I know… but she's Marge. She was the last one I thought… she could make it…"

Alfred wanted to embrace him, but he knew it would damage the state's pride. So he just continued to look at him as Wynston softly cried, the state finishing after a minute and taking a couple of deep, tremulous breaths.

"I…" Alfred rubbed at his eyes in frustration. When would the hurt stop? "I shouldn't have told you this here, not now… I'm sorry I yelled at you, but the last time I saw her as herself was before she went into a town. When she came back…" He exhaled heavily. "I just don't want the same fate for you, son."

Wynston nodded and gave a watery smile. "It's fine. But your arm…" He motioned to Alfred's upper arm. "Did it hurt?"

Alfred put a hand over the scar, hidden beneath a blood-soaked sleeve, pressing it until he had to grit his teeth for the pain. Somehow doing that made him feel closer to Marge and less guilty for her death. "It still hurts."

"So I guess the town is a no go?" Arthur asked, anxious to move on.

"No," Alfred said, straightening. He was determined to persevere for Marge. "No, you're right, Wynston. We're perfectly capable of protecting ourselves in a large group. And if the town is near, it would be pretty desolate. I don't want to be on the run anymore." This was it. He wouldn't let his fears hold him back. Not now. I'm staying strong for you, baby girl.

Wynston motioned through the trees. "That way, then."

No translations

Quoi?-What?

Du verdammter Blödmann-You fucking dumbass

Es tut mir leid-I'm sorry

Mon fils-My son

A Word From the Writer: Off to another town! I must warn you, things from here on out are about to get a lot more intense. Let's just say they are forced to further acknowledge the horrible reality of their situation... Btw, that whole "Shooting the edge of a card at 90 ft." is a reference to Annie Oakley, one of (if not the best) female sharpshooter in history. And yes, she could actually split a card by its edge at a distance of 90 ft. Yeah, no one fucked with her.

So, lot's to look forward to... and think about for a week until my next post. XD