Ever since the dead arose, Arthur had never once believed that things would get better.

He could still remember that night when it all went to hell. He and his brothers were at home, bickering as always. Scott was teasing him about something- he could no longer remember what trivial thing they were arguing about- while Conner and Patrick added their commentary every once in a while, fueling the fire to the flame. Oliver watched in exasperation as his brothers fought like idiots. Overall, it was a normal night in the Kirkland household and it should have ended like any other night- with the brothers sharing a bottle of scotch and then heading off to bed.

But then they heard the groans and screams coming from outside. They had instantly quieted down by that. Oliver, being the closest to the window, silently made his way to it and parted the curtains to check what was happening and recoiled when the a hand shot out and broke the glass, scratching his face.

From that point on, everything was a blur. He remembered his brothers grabbing their guns- it was a tradition of sorts in their family to own one- and shooting the undead that barged into their house. He could remember the confusion, the fear, and the tears when only he and Scott had escaped their house alive.

And it was ingrained into his memory when Scott was torn apart by a group of zoms to save him.

On quiet nights when the dead were heard from all directions, the thought of ending it all always passed his mind. He never seriously considered putting a bullet in his head and ending his life, however. His brothers' deaths would have been for nothing. It had been his reason for living the moment his brothers died- why he had followed his Scott's dying words to grab his gun and run; all the while muttering a prayer under his breath for all his brothers. He wasn't really the religious type, none of them were, but he felt his brothers deserved something.

The next few months were spent in isolation. And then he met Alfred.

He had gone into an abandoned convenience store to get something to eat and was stuffing the food into a bag when he heard a noise. He grabbed his gun and made his way to the source of the noise, turning the safety off, and hid behind an aisle. He took a deep breath before coming out of his hiding spot and aiming for the figure's head, finger at the trigger.

To this day he still does not know what made him hesitate to press the trigger, but he thanks whatever it was that it did.

A man a few years younger than him with the brightest pair of blue eyes Arthur had ever seen pointed a gun at him, a grin on his face. "You know," He drawled, his American accent obviously clear to Arthur. "If I was a zom, you'd be dead by now."

Arthur had smacked him with his bag, which had led to an argument about human decency. Somehow that ended with the other inviting Arthur to join him and his friends, and Arthur oddly agreeing without putting a fight. Perhaps he had been lonelier than he had thought he had been, if he had accepted a stranger's invitation without warning. Or perhaps it was the way the man's eyes shined with honesty. He didn't really think about it at the time.

The man's- Alfred, as he had introduced himself when they left the store- group of friends had accepted him easily enough though he was surprised to be reunited with Francis again after so many years. Francis had immediately asked for Scott. It was the first time since Jeanne that he had seen such a broken look on the Frenchman's face.

Months passed and he and Alfred became close. They were the best of friends. Arthur could trust Alfred with anything, quite a rare feat for him. He somehow was always able to cheer him up or sound hopeful that someday things would go back to normal. Arthur was pretty sure that, without Alfred, he would have given up on any means of hope a long time ago.

It was no wonder why he developed feelings for him.

Not that he had ever acted on them. Alfred was his best friend and the possibility of ruining that friendship was not something that he was willing to risk.

Perhaps one day, he told himself, he would be able to say something.

One day.

"We can't leave them!" Alfred stared at the hoard of zoms surrounding Arthur and Lovino. Though the two were armed- Arthur with two M16 guns and Lovino with a rifle- it was obvious that the two were at a disadvantage.

Feliciano kept pleading for them to go back. "Please! We have to help them! If we can get their attention-"

"Then we'll be the ones eaten," Gilbert said. " I don't know about you but I don't feel like becoming fucking lunch."

Feliciano ignored this and looked at Alfred desperately," Per favore Alfred. I know you want to save Arthur just as much as I want to do for Lovi."

"Al." Gilbert have him a look. "We can't."

"We have to!" Feli snapped," if not they-"

"We have to keep moving!" Gilbert yelled," you don't think I want to bust through those zombies and save them?! I would if I could! But in case you haven't noticed, we've got injured people here that need help!"

Alfred followed Gilbert's hand that pointed to the group of people crowded behind them near the edge of the forest. Elizabeta had a deep gash on her back, Kiku had a head injury that was most likely a concussion, Francis was on his knees dry heaving, and Antonio was beside him knocked out cold. The only ones who looked fairy well were Gilbert, Feliciano, and Alfred.

"We have to leave them Al," Gilbert said somberly. "We can't meet up with the others if we're dead."

"We can't leave them." Feliciano pleaded again.

Alfred looked back at where Arthur and Lovino were. The two were slightly separated now, Arthur firing shots from his two guns while Lovino bashed the zom's heads in with the tip of his rifle. A few zom's went down and the next thing he knew, Alfred made eye contact with the Brit.

Arthur's eye spoke more than Alfred believed were possible. He mouthed 'are you sure?' as clearly as he could and had just enough time to see Arthur nod before more zoms got in the way.

Alfred gulped. He had to trust Arthur.

"...Let's go."

Arthur watched as Alfred and the others left the clearing and went deeper into the forest until they were no longer visible. A bitter smile graced his lips once they were out of his sight. The one time Alfred listened to him and he was slightly disappointed over it. He was glad that Alfred listened to him, don't get him wrong, but that didn't make the ache in his chest go away. Nevertheless, if it was for Alfred's safety then Arthur was willing to let him go.

If there was even a chance of Arthur not making it out alive, then he wasn't going to bring Alfred down with him.

A zombie charged towards him and Arthur pressed the trigger only to find it empty. He cursed and shot with his other gun, grateful that there was still some ammunition left. There were only a few more packets stored away at the inside of his jacket and it wasn't enough to kill every single zombie currently surrounding them. Every bullet counted.

He looked at Lovino for a split second and found the other was hitting zoms with the tip of his rifle. Black fluids dripped down from where he bashed the faces in and soiled his face and clothes, but the brunette continued with his slaughter. His eyes were terrified but Arthur knew that only strengthened the other's resolve to get out of this mess alive. Lovino, he knew, did not want to die at the hands of the undead. Not like his parents. And certainly not like his grandfather.

Arthur quickly reloaded his empty gun and shot down another couple of zoms. It didn't help much. They were everywhere. The possibility of escaping alive was almost impossible.

For the first time since he met Alfred doubt consumed him. Were they actually going to die here?

He dismissed those thoughts and shot down a few more of the undead. Doubting himself would only get them killed. What he needed was to stay calm so he could find a way out. An escape route that he and Lovino can take. Arthur scanned the area for a weak spot in the incoming wreckage and spotted movement from the forest. He panicked slightly and feared that the zombies had finally decided to go after Alfred and the others but the figure shifted and what he saw was much worse than a group of zombies going after his friends.

From afar, he made eye contact with those gorgeous blue eyes that could only belong to one person. The ones he had gotten to familiarize with for two years, the ones who saved him when the chaos started, the ones who were quickly approaching him and the zoms.

"Alfred…" Arthur breathed, eyes wide in disbelief and horror. He forgot about the zoms and a screaming Lovino for a moment and took a step towards the blond, intending to run to him. "You idiot, get out here! You'll-"

A white flash of pain travelled through his spine as he collided with the ground hard, zom on top of him. The fall had dazed Arthur so he had no time to defend himself when the zombie scratched at his throat, leaving streaks of blood on his pale neck. Arthur screamed. He could vaguely hear someone screaming his name from somewhere but the pain quickly blocked everything out. The only thing he could see was the zombie, and even that was fading to black, as it snapped its shattered jaw towards Arthur.

He lost consciousness with one thought.

Alfred.

"Art, come on man, please wake up….this isn't funny, open your eyes Art! Artie! Arthur!"

"Al, we have to go, now! They're catching up!"

"But Arthur-!"

"He's already lost too much blood, idiot! There's no way he's going to be able to open his eyes let alone walk!"

"I'm not leaving him again!"

"Then fucking carry him for all I care! We have to go, now!"

Arthur woke up to the feeling of a warm bed and thick sheets and the eerily familiar feeling that he was dead. Then he felt the sharp pain in his neck and chest and realized that he wouldn't be joining his brothers quite so soon.

He tried to sit up but found that his body wasn't strong enough for that. He settled with turning his head left and right to get a better of view of the room he was in. It was a wooden room, with a window on the left wall, that was decorated with different things that screamed to Arthur that someone was- or had, as was the case these days- living here.

He remembered clearly that he was moments away from being zombie food. How did he get here?

"Arthur!" Arthur turned his head and saw Alfred at the doorway. He had a relieved grin on his face as he practically ran over to where Arthur was. "Oh god, you're finally awake! You've no idea how worried you got me dude!"

"How-" Arthur stopped when he heard how raspy his voice was.

Alfred, for once in his life, somehow knew what Arthur was trying to ask. "Two days. Kiku said you lost a lot a blood after…"Alfred looked away and sighed. "….yeah…" Arthur wanted to ask what had happened after he passed out, but Alfred had different ideas. He took Arthur's hand and held on to it tightly, all the while looking into his eyes. "Listen, Art…I'm sorry, okay? All I wanted was to help you and Lovino out. I mean, I knew you two can handle yourselves but it was a group of zombies and ammunition isn't endless and I know you guys are smart and all and would have found a way out but I couldn't handle the thought of you getting hurt 'cause I-"

"Alfred, you're rambling again." Arthur interrupted, dry throat be damned. Alfred immediately stopped and turned red. Arthur gently squeezed the other's hand. "I understand why you came back. You couldn't leave someone behind, what with your hero complex. However, please don't risk your life for me anymore. I'm not worth it and I don't want you to get hurt."

Alfred stared at him for a long time with an emotion Arthur couldn't, or wouldn't, identify before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the Brit. "And people call me the idiot." Alfred mumbled.

Arthur felt his face grow hot and opened his mouth to demand for Alfred to get off him, but closed it. Instead, he wrapped his own arms in turn around Alfred and brought the American closer. "That's because you are."