Never Fading

{6}

Denmark was running. He of course regretted leaving Sweden alone back there, but he knew he could handle himself for a little bit.

There was a rustle near by suddenly, shaking Denmark out of his thoughts.

"Kom ud hvem du er (Come out whoever you are)!" Denmark shouted angrily. He didn't have a gun he could use. He had wasted all his ammo on the soldiers back in the building before they were separated from the others... Of course he had ammo in the bag they had taken with them, but Sweden had the bag and the Dane had been too worried about the Swede that he didn't get a chance to reload his gun.

There were more rustling before Denmark was ambushed. Big arms wrapped around the Dane before he was knocked over. Denmark was sure he blacked out for a second, but his vision regained instantly. He looked at the form and saw Russia on top of him, pinning him to the snowy ground. He struggled beneath him for minutes on end.

The Russian laughed, keeping the Dane there. "Oh, look at this fighter. He's struggling so hard to get away... Why? Oh, it's to go protect the sunflower back there? Ah! Haha! I see! You don't want me getting to him. Too bad that my soldiers probably already took him out. Since he has a broken leg, it shouldn't be that hard, right?"

"Get off of me!" Denmark demanded. He fought even more, needing to get back to the Swede.

Instantly, a shriek filled the lifeless air.

Right then, a big wave of panic hit Denmark, hard. "Sverige!" The Dane shouted, finally managing to kick Russia off of him. Denmark stood uneasily at first, almost losing his balance, but finding it and started to run off, back to Sweden.

Russia was right on Denmark's heels though, being able to grab Denmark and pin him to the snow-covered ground once more.

Denmark cried out in pain and despair. "Sweden!" Denmark shouted. His fingernails clawed against the ground, snow now under his nails. Tears were flooding down the Dane's face. He won't die...not today. Denmark thought.

Russia laughed, lifting up a knife.

Knife. Denmark realized. What about the guns? What had happened so suddenly that Russia didn't have a gun?

Denmark stayed still for many minutes now. He sneaked out his own knife at his own side. Russia was about to bring Denmark to his own doom, but Denmark was quick and stabbed Russia right in the stomach.

Russia didn't react at first, not even sure how to react. He wasn't expecting this power to be in the Dane because of how he seemed like he was slowly breaking at the seams. But then he realized. It was Sweden. Denmark would do anything for Sweden...even throw himself in front of a moving car...get shot.

Denmark was huffing now. Russia was quite heavy, so he found it unimaginable how Sweden could be any lighter. Denmark pushed the now bleeding Russian off of him and stood. Blood was now covering his red shirt, being quite noticeable. The Dane ran off towards were he left Sweden.

The Swede was on the ground on his stomach, breathing heavily. His hands were clutching at the snow.

Denmark ran over, instantly turning Sweden over. "Swede?!" Denmark practically screamed.

"Quiet down...I'm fine..." Sweden hissed out. Blood was all over his face and he seemed so weak.

"What did they do to you?" Denmark asked, his voice lowering by quite a bit.

Sweden tried moving his already broken leg and yelped loudly.

Denmark instantly put his hand on Sweden's hand lightly. "They broke your leg again?"