Snapped In The City of Love

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(A/N: homestuck-hetalia and APH_Salem_ (Caught_In_The_Haze) had preplanned this story prior to the Paris attacks. We mean no harm or offense to those affected in those attacks. We deeply apologize for any inconvenience.))

Alfred, in all of his messy blonde haired pride, dragged two Germans, a Englishman and a small Italian through a large and complex shopping mall full of Frenchmen and internationals alike. The date was the Fourth of July, and it was the American's birthday; his friends Gilbert, Ludwig, Felicano and Arthur had agreed to celebrate it with him in the middle of his favorite foreign city.

Of course, Paris still would never beat Washington DC as his favorite.

"Slow down, will you?" Gilbert huffed, crossing his arms as Alfred ran ahead to look at all the different store fronts. "It's a little unawesome to leave your friends." He held onto his guide dog's harness, having the German Shepherd start to follow Alfred's path.

"I think that is impossible for Alfred." Ludwig, Gil's brother, commented, shaking his head while laughing. "He is such a child."

"I'll drink to that." Alfred's partner and boyfriend Arthur added, spying a wine bar where Feliciano came out with a bottle of vintage red wine. "Looks like Feli already wants to." The two gentlemen chuckle, catching the small Italian's attention.

"What? Francis suggested it, lui un assortimento!" Feliciano exclaimed, holding the bottle gently as he placed in inside his shouldered message bag. Ludwig merely laughed lightly at his lover's wine tasting habit, and placed an arm around the smaller one's waist.

"Come on dudes! There is so much to see!" Alfred yells, a few French people turning to look at the boisterous American.

"Then wait! Mein gott, not everyone can see where they're going." Gilbert mumbled, feeling Alfred pull him into a side hug with one strong arm. The German yelps, laughing and returning the hug after a moment. With Arthur on his other side, Alfred walks towards a uncrowded café and leads his party through the restaurant to a large back table.

Left to right the seating order was such: Gilbert on the outside beside Alfred, Arthur in the middle with Feli to his left, and finally Ludwig on the other outside edge. The café itself was a very quaint establishment. The theme was a beachy one, with plastic palm trees hanging their leaves over the guests' heads. The tile covering the floor was a rough top to act like sand, and the far back of the shop had boogie boards and surf boards tacked to the walls.

"Bonjour, may I take your order?" The French waiter was dressed in tacky Hawaiian shorts and a flower lei paired with a purple shirt decked in cacao lilies. Ludwig stepped up to share what everyone had decided on.

"Ja, one black coffee, two vanilla lattes, one green tea and a glass of red wine." The waiter scribbled down the orders, nodding and bowing a bit as he scurried away to craft the drinks. Gilbert absentmindedly pet his guide dog, listening to Alfred explain what they would be doing after this.

"No, no bowling." Arthur argued, disagreeing in a way that couldn't be described as mild. "You get too competitive."

"No way, Artie. We will be bowling. No ifs, ands, or buts about it." Al grins, draping an arm over Artie's shoulders.

Arthur made a dissatisfied noise in the back of his throat just as a pair of customers entered into the café with caramel golden hair. The first loosely held a gun in his palm, and he wore a red bandana to cover his lower face and neck.

He said nothing, gave no warning, before cocking the hammer of the short barreled gun and taking a shot right into Gilbert's chest. Alfred pulled Arthur under the table, Feliciano ducking behind the seats as the American pulled his gun.

The second, younger looking one had drawn an unknown semi automatic weapon, piercing Al's chest just above and to the left of his heart. He did manage to get a shot off, but no one noticed or not if the attacker had been hit.

Ludwig slid over to Alfred, snagging the gun before being hit as well in the back of his knee. The German soldier shot off two rounds, hitting the older one in the shoulder easily. But that was also the time they chose to get the hell out of there.

Arthur scrambled over to Gilbert, yelling to Feliciano to press down on the fabric he wadded up to soak in any blood that it could. The small Italian slinked over, putting all his weight on the wound helplessly. The British man removed Al's bomber jacket, using his hands to stop as much blood as he could.

Alfred's sky and ocean blue eyes cut into Arthur, which just added to the affect that he might die. Really, all that look did was make Artie want to try harder. That meant keeping the American's pulse alive and keep him awake.

"Someone, call an ambulance you gits! Don't just stand there!" A single tear escaped from Arthur's emerald green eyes, and he swore to himself when his lover's sapphire eyes seemed to roll back and flutter shut.

A single waiter scrambles for the phone, snagging up the receiver as something smashed into the window. Smoke and glass went everywhere, working its way into everyone's skin as the small hand grenade exploded. It shot hot sparks out in all directions, burning some people and shattering more glass with pieces of projectile plastic.

A lot of small, sharp, and painful pieces worked into Arthur's skin as an attempt to distract him from keeping Alfred alive. Least to say, the distraction didn't work.