I'm Coming Home [America + Anyone]

[Spain]

Green eyes took in the surroundings: thick forest, a small river nearby, evidence of animals of some sort, and also evidence of fighting.

So he was getting closer, that was good.

Antonio breathed a small sigh of relief. It took him long enough. He had to be dropped off quite a while away and although he didn't mind walking, he really wished that he was much closer so he didn't have to.

No matter, he shrugged it off with ease as he adjusted the shotgun on his shoulder. His rapier was always in his hand, however, and his halberd was on his back in case of emergencies. He had already used it once and was really hoping he didn't have to use it again.

Luckily he finally made it to the warehouse a little before nightfall and he took a deep breath, knocking on the door, patting off what dirt he could but his clothes going to need to be washed as they were covered in grime and guts and blood (both his own and something else's).

[America]

America had a break.

It wasn't too often he had a break. Between paperwork and guard duty and missions and chores, he was typically booked from the moment he rose from bed to the moment his head hit the pillow at night. Luckily, he hadn't been signed onto any chores for the evening, he didn't have guard duty, and his paperwork load was light enough for him to actually take a short rest and just sit lazily on the couch.

That is, until the door knocked.

America sighed, pushing himself up and stumbled over to the security cameras to take a look. He had to squint and stare for a few seconds before finally recognizing the nation just outside. With a grin, he pulled the warehouse door open, gesturing for Spain to get inside.

"It's about time, man!" he exclaimed with a grin, closing the doors once Spain stepped in. "I just keep waiting for some more of the nations to show up, and half the time you guys never do, and we really need all the help-"

It was then he noticed the gruesome state of his fellow country. "Jesus, Spain, what the hell were you doing out there?" The obvious answer was, of course, obvious, but America couldn't help shaking his head at the blood covering Spain's clothes. "Did you get hurt or anything, or if that's just zombie blood?"

[Spain]

The Spaniard grinned brightly, going to hug him as usual but deciding that was probably a horrible idea in his current state. He made sure to file away a hug for him and many others later as he stepped in.

"Lo siento~ I had a lot of work to do back home so I got behind." He rubbed the back of his neck with his clean hand. God, was he glad to see America first. A bright nation around him brightened his mood instantly.

He had to blink, though, when he mentioned what he was doing. "Eh?" Glancing at his clothes, he realized he must have gotten injured in his fight. Probably when he accidentally got clawed by a few of them. Not bitten, just... clawed at. Luckily it only happened once since their nails fell out afterward (due to being dead and all) but he hadn't even noticed. "Ah, I think it's mostly zombie. I don't remember getting hurt, but then again I don't usually notice when I do." He waved it off. "I'm fine though~ Don't worry~"

Of course, that was a half-lie, but he really didn't feel that bad as he walked over to put his weapons against a nearby wall and removed his backpack of his personal supplies like clothes and such. "A few zombies scratched me but that's it. They'll heal in no time~" The blood seeping into his clothes told another story, however.

[America]

America narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, feeling very much like the older of the two in this situation. He didn't normally scold others when they refused to check out their wounds, but he had been in enough situations like this to know that you couldn't let something even as small as a scratch go untreated, especially not if it was from a zombie. "It won't heal in no time," he said, speaking from (slight) experience. "'Cause it can get infected and shit."

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He was better off sending Spain to the medic, but he doubted that the Mediterranean country would listen to him if he tried. Most nations seemed to be really stubborn about getting proper treatment (America knew he was himself, so he didn't blame anyone). However, America wasn't going to let it go untreated.

"Here, sit down or something," he said, gesturing to the couch. "Or, nah, just stand or sit on the floor- I mean, don't get blood on anything. It's a pain in the rear end to wash it out." He chuckled at that, looking Spain up and down. "I'm gonna get some disinfectant and towels and a bowl of water for you so we can clean you off, 'kay?"

And if he ran into a medic on the way, that was even better luck.

[Spain]

With a good-natured eye roll, the Spaniard stretched his arms above his head, slightly noticing the pain from irritating his wounds but not really. "I'm fine, really~ Don't worry."

He had to laugh under his breath at how America was acting. Sure, he was glad to have a warm reception, but he really didn't need all the medical attention, especially since it didn't hurt. However, he might as well humor the younger nation and shook his head. "Alright, alright. Do what you want." He held his hands up in surrender, standing where he was. He wasn't going to get blood on something he would have to clean later.

Which reminded him, this place was surprisingly clean. He wasn't sure who were the other groundskeepers, but he would have to look into that. Might as well know who he'll be working with.

[America]

America nodded firmly at the whole "do whatever you want" statement, because that was exactly what he had been planning on. He wouldn't have cared if Spain told him not to get proper medicine- he always did what he wanted. "Right. You just stand, then. I'll be right back." He quickly hurried off, glancing around for any sort of trained nation. Sure, he could deal with wounds (all of them could; perks of being in too many wars), but he wasn't sure of the extent of Spain's wounds, especially if a zombie had gotten him.

He came back with a handful of materials in a few minutes (of running and tripping and mumbling under his breath), then dumped everything on the couch beside him (though he set the bowl of water down gently). "Here's a towel for you," he said, tossing it to the elder country. "Wipe off whatever's on your skin so I can see where the wounds are."

In which case he would clean them with soap and water, then bandage them the best he could. That should work until a medic told him otherwise.

[Egypt]

Yawning, Gupta walked down the halls. He couldn't sleep so he had decided to go on a stroll. With his staff and modified medic's pack, he patrolled around in an extremely bored fashion. That is, until he walked into the Commons room and spotted a very messy Spain standing just inside the front doors with a nervous or rather worrisome America trying his best to determine what was Zombie's blood and what was Spain's blood. Blinking and softly clearing his throat the Mediterranean nation made his presence known.
"Ah... You look a little worse for wear, Spain. Matha hadath*? Did a zombie decide it wanted to use you as a chew toy?"
Egypt walked across the room and started to help America clean Spain off, looking for bite and scratch marks as they worked. In no time the two nations had Spain completely clean of the toxic zombie blood. Egypt was now checking over the few scratched and light gashed the had been found under the initial coat of blood and gore. Having pealed of the older nations over shirt while looking for scratches, the Spaniard now stood with no shirt at all, having taken his ruined under shirt off to throw it away. America had been sent to find England, to inform him of Spain's late night arrival and his condition. After a brief moment of awkward silence while Gupta did one more check for anymore scratches, he talked to the older nation.
"Do you have any unusual symptoms? Nausea, headache, fever, aches or pains? This is crucial to see how infected you are, if even only slightly." Pulling out a small flashlight from his pocket, the smaller nation quickly checked Spain's eyes, seeing if they had begun to dilate.

*Matha hadath = "What Happened" in Arabic

[Czech Republic]

While mumbling curses in her native tongue Czech's nimble yet delicate fingers worked to untangle the mess of blue yarn. She knew that she shouldn't of let her work in progess just sit on he bed where anyone could mess with it or touch it but no, she made the mistake of thinking she could trust the other nations to not touch her belongings. Now her beautiful scarf was all a tangled mess and in need of untangling and being the meticulous young lady that she was, she set right to work picking pulling and unknotting the blue mess in her hands.

Though she was skilled at this even she had to admit that she couldn't untangle some knots and thus needed the aid of scissors to help her with this task. But alas it seemed that she misplaced them so went in search of them, untangling as she went. Without even knowing it Czech had made her way into the commons her surroundings only realized when she heard the sound of others conversing with one another. Blue green eyes gazed towards the front door seeing that men where present.

There was Egypt and America who she knew very well which made her face brighten with a large smile. Setting her work aside she took off running at with the brightest most cheerful smile anyone could have seen. Without warning she grabbed up Egypt pulling him into a tight back breaking hug as she continue to grin. "Egypt!" She cried in a delighted tone releasing him to now turned to America. "Ahoj America!" Her arms wrapped tightly around him now as she smiled up at the nation who towered over her. Her attention was now turned to the new nation as she paused to take in his bright face.

She instantly reconized him as Spain, a fellow European nation. However though they were from the same side of of the world, she did not know him that well...in fact she knew next to none about him so it made her a little uncomfortable. However she was a proper young lady and needed to address him as such.

Giving a weak little wave while clinging close to America as she smiled vey politely. "A--Ahoj Mr. Spain! I am happy to see you made it here alive!"

[Spain]

[[We're going to pretend Anton still has his shirt on~]]

With a grateful smile, Antonio took the towel from America, wiping off his muddied face first. "Gracias~" He said, highly enjoying the feel of the soft cloth on his skin. What he'd give to just be wrapped up in a soft blanket right now.

His attention was stolen by an all too familiar nation that he sorely missed. "GUPPY~!" He beamed, smiling at the other Mediterranean nation. He and Egypt always had good relations and he always enjoyed his company: it was a blessing to be with someone who didn't mind the quiet. "Que tal~? Ah, not really. I wasn't attacked that badly." The Spaniard rubbed the back of his neck. So he got into a fight or two, fell down a ravine and managed to make his way back up without killing himself. That did not qualify him to be a zombies chew toy. He wasn't happy though, when the Mediterranean nation tried to get him to remove his shirt. "Ah-- Please don't do that." He gave a small, slightly awkward smile. "I mean, I'd rather not have an inspection in the middle of the warehouse. Don't worry though~ I'm sure once I shower it won't look as bad."

It seemed that no matter what he said, no one seemed to believe he was fine. "I swear I'm alright. I don't feel bad in any way--" he tried not to close his eyes at the light because wow that hurt. See, this was one of the reasons why he hated being medically treated. Too much attention to things that didn't need attention. "I promise that I'm alright, Guppy~" Childishly, he whined and pouted. "If I start not feeling fine, I'll tell you~"

Blink and he's gone and suddenly Egypt was gathered into a huge hug, who was soon followed by America. Spain found himself wondering just who-- Ah, that was who it was. With a small smile towards Czech, he ruffled her hair a bit (with his clean hand, of course). "Hola, Cecha~! Trust me, I'm glad to have made it here in one piece too!" He laughed softly, as if realizing that there was that potential to not have made it. "It's good to see all of you, really. It's high time I've seen some familiar faces for once."

[America]

America had been overly grateful when Egypt decided to step into the room, because now they would be able to properly check for serious wounds. America wasn't sure if anything would get infected (he was pretty sure zombie scratches were dangerous) or if anything was life-threatening (because in any situation involving zombies, he had come to accept the fact that they could die). Egypt would, though, considering he was a medic and all.

And, from the looks of it, close to Spain.

"Listen to the guy, Egypt, he's fine. I think those are just minor wounds, so if we clean them and give him some medicine, he'll be fine and dandy in no time!" That wasn't to say he wasn't concerned, but if Spain's situation was a life-and-death matter, he was pretty positive that the older nation would look, feel, and act far worse than he was. Unless he was stubborn, like England, in which case he was hiding his pain far better than America gave him credit for.

He had been about to say something else (something along the lines of, "I can handle it!") when Czech suddenly ran into the common room. After she hugged Egypt, America gladly accepted the hug she offered him, grinning. He did feel a tad bit exasperated with the influx of nations (he had wanted to be the one to heal Spain's wounds himself, for practice, but also because people would thank him for it), but he refused to show it. Besides, Czech was one of his best friends, and pushing her away wouldn't be the right thing to do.

"Yeah, well, you can get tired of familiar after a while," America replied, rolling his eyes. "Seriously. It's the same thing over and over again. I mean, that's not to say the nations get old-" He stopped and backtracked. "Okay, yeah, some nations get old. I mean, they were already old to begin with and I'd rather not have to live alongside them more than I have to, but you get the point."

There wasn't really a point, he realized once he shut up.

[Egypt]

Huffing softly Egypt almost seemed to pout at Spain weaseled his way out of an inspection. Getting irritated quickly, Egypt had to refrain from smacking America and Spain both on the head. "I am most sorry but I MUST check you over Spain, as it is PROTOCOL around here with ANY new arrival." Listening to America, Egypt got a little more irritated. "Oh? A shower and some medicine is all he needs you say? Well that's good, there just so happens to be a shower back in the Medic's Wing, and we can go there now." Gupta's olive green eyes locked with the Spaniard's. "One way or another, Gupta poked Spain lightly on the chest with the end of his staff. "That shirt will come off and I WILL give you a full check up, got it?
For some one who was regularly calm and collected, Egypt was sure getting riled up about this whole situation. The Mediterranean nation sighed and collected himself. Gathering his belongings, Gupta turned and started for the doors that lead to the Scientist's and Medic's Wing of the ware house. He stopped a few feet from the double doors and looked back at the small group. "Well? Aren't you coming? This will all be over sooner if come now." With that, he walled through the swinging double doors into the hall.

[Spain]

With America's statement, he had to disagree. "I like familiarity," he shrugged, though not denying the other's opinion. "Familiarity is comforting to me. Too many new things at once can be overwhelming." He never was one for trying new things or at least enjoying new events at a fast pace. In fact, the news of the zombies nearly sent him into a panic attack. But he'd only tell Francis that.

He huffed slightly. Old? He wasn't that old. "Mind you, niñito, those older than you have more experience and you should respect your elders. Plus, I'm not all that old." Okay, so he was a little over 2500 years old, but he wouldn't tell America that. He'd never hear the end of the 'old man' comments if he did.

Egypt's raised voice actually surprised and scared him. He never raised his voice like that unless he was either dead serious.

And dead serious on something Antonio wasn't about to do in anyone's presence. "Before you drag me off for an inspection, is Francis here?" He hadn't heard anything about his friend, but he was praying he was around. He would be far more willing to let the Frenchman look over his wounds than anyone else. It's not that he didn't trust anyone else - well, that was a small factor - but he just wasn't all that comfortable with revealing himself to anyone he didn't fully trust. Too many secrets would come out at once. though maybe he could convince the Egyptian to keep quiet about it or not to ask or something maybe...

[America]

America shrugged. "Each to their own," he responded, smiling. "But, believe me, being cooped up with some nations is just...filled with tension. Like," and then he took his hands together, miming a fight, before making a sprinkling motion and hissing, "Pssssh-boom!" He looked pleased with himself and nodded, dropping his hands back down to his side. "There's a reason the world's big enough for each of us to have our own space. Countries aren't made to be stuck in a warehouse with each other."

Of course, then there was the next point, and he laughed at Spain's refusal to be called old. Yeah right. America knew he was one of the younger nations around, and he just assumed that Spain was jealous of that fact. "You're around England's age, aren't you?" he asked. "You're old. No need to be ashamed of that, though." Before he could get another word in about Spain's age, however, Egypt seemed to blow up. He snapped (and America felt like the snapping was also directed towards him), then left, leaving America confused.

Staring after him, America grabbed another towel and dipped it in the water, then wrung it out and passed that one, too, over to Spain. "Um, no, France...he hasn't been here." He frowned as he said that, crossing his arms over his chest. He really liked France, especially since the elder nation helped to raise him and had influenced much of his culture. He saw him almost as a father-figure, and didn't realize how much he would actually miss him. "Did you, uh, see him back in Europe?"

[Czech Republic]

"America is right!"

Czech beamed happily at Spain agreeing that being old was not something to be ashamed of. "And just because you are old doesn't mean you can't mask it...I mean look at me! People are always under the assumption that I am a little girl when really I am about 1,000 years old!" She smiled very proudly at herself for announcing that little tidbit. It was true...she was a tad bit of an old lady...but she had the advantage of aging rather slowly and having stiffled growth.

A bitter look came over Czech's sweet face at the mention of France. Oh she had missed that silly frenchmen...He was after all her childhood friend and missed the daylight out of him. She placed her thumbnail to her lips as she nibbled on it looking rather uncomfortable by the subject...but then after glancing up smiled softly at Spain knowing that he was France's bestfriend as well and probably felt the same way she did.

"I'm sure he is fine..."

She said as to assure herself more than anyone else. "If there is one thing I know France is that he is a very resourceful nation who has surived through almost anything thats been thrown at him!"