This Is Where We Fall (Hetalia Zombie Apocalypse AU)

"Voices" -France & England-

Another week passed and the Frenchman and Brit gradually made progress towards Berlin. It was still ways away, but they were getting there. Supplies were running low and restocks on their guns might as well be non existent. The search for Alfred and Matthew still went on, so far leaving them hopeless.

"We'll find them soon, I promise." Francis said one night as Arthur lay in his arms. He had been silently crying, dreading the fact that they may or may not be dead. Maybe they should just face those facts..

"Don't make promises you have no chance in keeping." The Brit sniffled. He looked up at and around at where they were. They had found an abandoned corner shop which held a few leftover nonperishable foods and equipment. Yes, the equipment had been a shovel and kitchen utensils, but they were still good. There were ways to make use of such things. Arthur sat up and wiped at his eyes.

Alfred... Matthew... Where are you? I just want to make sure you're alright. I would never forgive myself if you both were...

Arthur ceased to continue such a thought.

No, I musn't think such things. They will be alright. Francis said we'll find them, and we will.

"Come." The gentleman said suddenly, getting to his feet. He grabbed his knife from his pocket and began to walk towards the entrance of the shop.

"What? We're going out now? At night?!" Francis seemed apalled at the idea of roaming around in the almost pitch black dark. How would they see if a biter came by? Arthur turned to him and merely waved a hand, motioning for him to follow.

"Let's go, I have a strange feeling there are people out there." Before the Frenchman could argue, Arthur slipped out into the dead of night.

Outside was, as expected, dark making it nearly impossible to see. Faintly, the growls and groans of the biters could be heard but they were all far away; not a threat to them now.

"Cher, I don't see why we are out here tonight." Francis exclaimed, following Arthur over to the shops nearby.

"Must you need an explanation for every damn thing I do?" Arthur retorted rather hotly. "I don't know why, but I have a strange feeling someone is here. I guess my magical powers haven't completely worn off." A scoff came from his partner as they examined the shops through their windows.

"Oui, like you ever had any-"

Shatter

The sound of breaking glass was heard in a shop to their left. Francis immediately quit speaking and put a hand over his knife. Movement like shuffling feet were made clear from the interior of the place. Arthur moved in.

The interior of the shop was almost pitch black, making it nearly impossible to see. The only source of light was from the moon outside. It provided very little and silhouetted Arthur moving stealthily. He kept his ears perked up for any movement. Some shuffling sounds could be heard the more in he went.

"Wh-Who's there?" He called out, raising his pistol in which he had his carefully in his back pocket. No answer, only more shuffling. It was indeed a biter. The sound couldn't be inferred as anything else. However, a shadow might influence someone's idea of what the sound was. A shadow certainly did that with a certain Brit.

Curled and up right it casted a darkly on the wall. It could be mistaken as a curl on someone's head. Some would describe it as a crescent shape, others a banana shape. Either way it shown the same.

Arthur lowered his weapon, a sheer ray of hope rising in him.

"Alfred?" The Englishman walked closer to the being's shadow, lowering all walls of defence. "Is it you?" Francis squinted through the dark and caught sight of the being before Arthur. It was most definitely not Alfred. It was a biter who's shadow resembled much of Alfred's. Arthur, however, did not notice this and took even more steps so he was dangerously close to the flesh eating being.

"Arthur! Get away!" The Frenchman hissed, stumbling over a few overturned objects to get to Arthur. The Brit didn't seem to hear him. He finally backed out of his daydream like state just when the biter growled at him. He froze, hand shaking as he tried to grasp the pistol. The biter drew closer, it's decaying arms outstretched to grab hold of Arthur.

"A-Arthur!" Francis now shouted as he tried his best to get to him. Arthur snapped out of his trance just as the biter knocked him down on the floor. He fell on his back as he tried his best to push of the biter. It's jaw snapped and snarled at the Brit. Everything seemed to freeze. The biter on top of him began to draw closer... its mouth coming dangerously to Arthur's face... the distance between the them—

Bang

Dead weight suddenly collapsed on Arthur. A large hole was seen on the back of its head, rotten brains oozed out. Francis stood above them with his own handgun directed towards the once again lifeless being. Arthur relaxed his arms from holding up the biter and sighed. Silence engulfed them again.

"Are you okay?" Francis asked, breaking the silence. He knelt down and pushed the biter off of Arthur. The Brit closed his eyes and shook his head, remaining on the floor.

"I thought it was him." The words escaped his lip in a shaky manner. Tears seeped through his closed eyes fell down the sides of his face. "I-I thought it was..." The next words transitioned into soft sobs. Arthur raised an arm to cover his face as his cries continued.

"Shh, Shh I know." Francis confronted soothingly. He crawled closer to him and brushed away some of his choppy blonde hair. "Don't cry, mon amour. We will find them; I promise. Alfred and Matthew will be with us again. So, please. Do not cry." Arthur lowered his arm and stared up at the Frenchman with teary eyes. He slowly slipped his hand in Francis' and held it tightly.

"D-Do you think so?" He asked for reassurance.

"Oui, I am sure." Francis replied with a smile. Their eyes locked together for a long while before Arthur broke it with a sigh.

"Alright, help me up will you?" The Brit questioned as he pushed himself up in a sitting position. A quiet wince escaped him as he did so, influenced by the minor injuries in his back. Apparently when he fell to the floor, he landed on the shattered fragments of a mirror. "Bloody hell, this hurts."

"Would you like for me to carry you?" Francis suggested, pained to see Arthur hurt. The Brit opened his mouth to oppose but soon let out a breath and complied.

"Yes, please." He mumbled, looking up at the Frenchman. Francis beamed happily and slipped his arms underneath his legs and behind his back. Slowly, he hauled him up and began to walk out the shop.

"You know," Francis exclaimed as they walked back to their shelter, "this is just like a fairy tale. I, the handsome prince, rescue a maiden in distress, you, and carry her off into happily ever after." The obnoxious French laugh rang in Arthur's ears, causing him to turn a shade of red.

"Shut up, imbecile." He grumbled, shifting a bit in his position. "Don't say such things as that in a time like this." Anything that brought up memories of the past and its joys sent Arthur into a depressed state. He ached for the past where they could carefree without having to constantly fight for their lives. The past seemed like a dream now; it once was there but was taken away from the harsh reality.

"Angleterre," Francis addressed him as he did when they both were countries. (No one was named as a country anymore. Those didn't exist now.), "when all of this is over, let's go drinking again. You can get drunk off your ass as I laugh into my wine cup." He chuckled lightly at the memories of them drinking. All either ended in disaster or tears; no in between. Arthur stared down at the request. Would this ever be over?

"I guess I will take you up on that offer." The gentleman sighed, closing his eyes. "It is not like I have a choice, anyways. You always tend to make me go drinking no matter what my answer is." Arthur rested his head against Francis' chest. A heartbeat soon met his ears, causing him to relax. Francis had a strong heart. It was loud and endearing. The mere sound of it reassured Arthur that he was not alone. That heartbeat... he wished that he would never have to hear that heart cease to beat.