Awaiting a purpose. {{Open}}

[England]

"S-Shut up!" England all but screeched, turning around and glaring at America, cheeks burning red and fists balled at his side. "I'll have you know I was doing perfectly fine without any of you around at first!" he took a deep breath, trying to calm down, because he wasn't being a very good example at the moment. Besides, he wasn't scrawny, right? If he were, he wouldn't have been able to set up the warehouse alone... right?

[America]

Despite the grin etched upon his face, America still took a step back. He had learned from experience that an angry England wasn't the best of things to trifle with. Actually, he was pretty sure that, if a list of the top ten worst things to annoy was made, an irritated England would be high up there. Except, he seems more enraged than irritated at the moment, America added inwardly, taking in England's complexion and tenseness. "Geez, sorry," he muttered, quickly looking away. "You set the place up good. I was only joking, you know."

[[x] Spain]

Spain set a half-hearted smile on and stood between the two fighting(?) nations. "Alright, alright. How about we all put everything else aside and figure out what to eat once Iceland heals everyone up, okay?" He hated seeing two people - be the countries or not - quarrling. After all, in a world where you can only rely on each other, why should you fight? What made him want to get in between them even more was because he was reminded of Romano and himself. His former charge always got into fights with him and to be honest, it wasn't exactly the best feeling in the world.

I hope Roma's doing alright... He thought, looking out the high windows. He hates the dark. It would be even worse if he was out there right now.

[England]

England relieved a bit of the tenseness in his shoulders as he heard America's response, and something wrenched in his heart. He didn't know why he kept overreacting about everything. Maybe he was just really frustrated and had no outlet? Either way, his outbursts weren't doing wonders for ANY of his relations with other Nations, and he was perfectly conscious of that.

He just didn't know how else to deal with everybody.

"I... I guess." he simply settled for mumbling, turning away from America, towards Spain. "Help yourselves to anything in the pantry. Just keep conscious that we don't have food for a feast. And we certainly don't want to ration food, so let's try not to run out of any..." he felt really uncomfortable right now. He didn't even know why, though. Today had just been such a whirlwind of events and emotion. And it was just the beginning.

England's head spun, and he had to clutch it with one hand to avoid stumbling over. He didn't know what he was doing, or what had to be done. Only one thing was for sure in his mind: He hadn't been bitten by a zombie, so the rest were all minor injuries. Nothing that couldn't be taken care of later.

"I... I'm not hungry. I think I'll just go sleep." he mused out loud. His trusty earplugs would finally serve their purpose after such a long time of disuse.

[America]

If one thing had always astounded America, it was England's odd mood changes. It seemed that now, rather than angry, he was just...well, England. He had lost that commanding voice of his, though, and was mumbling instead, which America didn't really see too often. Though he was speaking to Spain, America took his note to heart. Hmph. I'd probably be the one to empty out the pantry, anyway. I need to actually watch myself for once. He figured it'd be hard, but he was America. Hell, he could handle anything! Rationing food had to be simple enough.

However, rather than focus on food, he raised an eyebrow over in England's direction. "Hey, are you okay? You weren't hurt out there, were ya?" He noticed his former caretaker looking rather strange and he really hoped it wasn't anything too serious. Even if they always argued, he did care about England. He wasn't just trying to be mean or spiteful to him.

[England]

"I'm fine." England quickly answered, stepping away awkwardly, then taking a moment to breathe deep and try to relax. "I mean, it's nothing pressing. I know I haven't been bitten, so maybe just a quick shower and bed will do me best right now. I'll take care of these scratches tomorrow morning." he then turned back around and looked at both America and Spain. "You make sure you're bandaged up nice. Wouldn't want any infections going around, zombie or non-zombie in origin. And then, just get some sleep. We all need some nowadays."

And honestly, he spoke from personal experience, because that's all he wanted to do right now.

[[x] Spain]

"Si~!" Spain said, saluting. When he was out of earshot, he turned to America. "America," Spain was extremely concerned about England, who still looked ready to pass out with his next step. "Don't worry too much. I'll make sure he gets to Iceland when he wakes up." He knew about England's stubbornness and so did the younger country. "Just let him rest, okay? Remember, he set up this entire place on his own, most likely didn't get much sleep for the past few days and also he fought muy, muy duro - very, very hard - a while ago." He smiled, feeling confident that America wouldn't worry too much. "He'll be fine tomorrow."

[America]

"Uh...yeah." America managed to smile over at England before hearing Spain say something. He turned his focus on the brunette nation, listening intently. Hearing Spain act so concerned about England made him start feeling concerned. What if England was pushing himself too hard? It probably wouldn't be the first time. America knew England was as stubborn as could be and would probably refuse to admit that he was feeling tired. However, knowing Spain was just trying to keep him from doing anything rash, America simply nodded. "Yeah, I know. He just needs a rest and he'll probably be all back to normal!"

[/blockquote]

[England]

"Well, I'm off. Come get me if anything gets ugly." England waved lightly as he headed off, throwing the two injured Nations a pointed look before pushing the flap open and exiting the hospital wing.

And now, to the showers, hopefully to wash the grime, rot, and worry off of himself for good.

[[x] Norway]

Norway sighed as he lisened to the two nations fight in the hospital room. He honestly felt bad that his little brother Icelan, had to deal with two countries that fought and most of the fighting was accordingly to fight off there sexual tensions between eachother...at least thats what France had originally told him before. He sat up from the bunk he was on and jumped down . Mabey he could help England. They were allies in WW1 and 2, and they didnt get on eachothers nerves at all. So he could probebly cheer him up.

[France]

France strolled through the clinic doors with a somewhat worried look on his face. He'd been coming to relieve Iceland of clinic watch since he'd been on it for a while and was, no doubt, tired of it by now, when he'd passed by England in the hallway. The other country had seemed.....off, for lack of a better word. Upon entering the clinic, he was surprised to see Spain and America in.

"Espagne.....Amérique.....what brings you to the clinic? And is it just me or is Angleterre acting strange? I just asked him if he wanted to come in for a.....private examination....and instead of the usual insults he just kept walking."

[America]

America looked up in surprise as France entered the room. "Oh, hey, France!" he exclaimed. He supposed France had simply come to taunt England, since that was what those two did, but he then realized that France was a medic. The thought gave him a nervous air, but he tried his best not to show it. "Hm? Oh, England? I...I er, might have pissed him off somehow." He pointed to his shoulder. "Yeah, Spain and I got, uh...wounded while fighting the zombies. Mine isn't anything too big, though."

[France]

France sighed at this news. Honestly, Those two and their UST.......it was ridiculous.

He looked at their wounds and shuddered. Despite what America had said, there was a good four or five inch gash in each of their shoulders. It was times like this he was glad he was a medic instead of a fighter. He'd probably have passed out from blood loss long ago, let alone the pain. He was also worried about his friends but didn't want to show it.

"So you've come for some of my healing l'amor have you? Honhonhon, I will be all too happy to oblige!" he laughed with a somewhat forced smile. "First let me get some Peroxide for you both. An infection is the last thing we need here"

[America]

Shuffling his feet, America struggled with a response. He knew France probably wouldn't try anything on him, but the tone of his voice when he said certain things still managed to creep America out just a tad. Still, he was happy to have someone care for his wound, even if he believed it to be very minor. "Sure!" he exclaimed. "Er...want me to sit somewhere or something?"

He hoped that Peroxide wasn't the stuff that burned. Which one was that...maybe it was Peroxide. Geez, if it burns, I'm gonna... Okay, well, he hadn't gotten past that part in his thinking, but he already had a feeling that this wouldn't be the most pleasant of healing processes.

[France]

Walking off to find the disinfectant, France glanced back at his two patients. "Oui, why don't you each take a bed while I get everything. Now tell me, how exactly did you get injured?" he asked whilst shuffling through the medicine cabinet. He was distressed to see how little medical supplies they truly had. And the state of the room? Dégoûtant! How could they expect him to be able to treat anyone here? Honestly, they were more likely to get infections in here than out in the open! The first thing he was going to do once these two were taken care of was clean this place. Especially that dripping pipe. Mon Dieu was that annoying!