Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or the Apocalypse.
Author's Note: The narrator here is Bulgaria. Just FYI, since his name is never mentioned. Also, second person is weird. (Why do I torture myself?)
This is dedicated to everyone participating in the Hetalia Christmas event, because you people are awesome and I love all of you and we are in Code Apocalypse right now, so it's fitting.
The world is going to end. Two hours, that's all you have left. Maybe three.
It's kind of funny. You never thought you would die, but now that you're facing it you can't quite bring yourself to be scared. You know you should be scared, but you really just can't find the energy to. Maybe if you had longer to digest the information, maybe if you had known earlier, you would be scared right now, but you find that the only emotion you're feeling is calm. Maybe it's better that you don't really get the chance to absorb the information.
America's known for months and it's been destroying him. After all, it was scientists in his home that first learned of the comet on a collision path with the earth. They kept silent for as long as they could, knowing that there was nothing they could do and hoping to avoid panic. That was probably a smart thing to do. You know that if you bothered to turn on the television, you would see more than a few reports of riots and uprisings, as the frightened people of earth try desperately to escape the inevitable. But the truth had to come out someday. Once the sky was lit up in brilliant yellow, the scientists had to bear the news of the apocalypse.
But while the people are rioting, the nations are the ones who have found a far better use of their last few hours. Most of the larger nations have gathered at the UN headquarters, choosing to spend the end of the world with the ones closest to them. The smaller nations, the ones not at the UN, are coming together in small groups to be with siblings or lovers. It seems as if everyone has at least one person they want to spend the end of the world with. Everyone but you. You don't mind, not really, but you can't help but wonder why you're the only country in the world who doesn't have someone to spend the last few moments with.
And that's when he shows up on your doorstep. Romania. Somehow, you're not surprised. He always seems to show up at the oddest times, just to bother you. You're really used to it by now. He offers you a weak smile.
"So, you're alone, too," he remarks.
"I guess I just don't have anyone I want to see," you reply.
"Yeah, I thought the same thing," he says. "But then I realized that I kind of wanted to see you again, before I die, so here I am."
"I won't lie, I'm glad to see you," you admit. "I guess, if I had to spend the end of the world with someone, I'd like it to be you."
Neither of you say anything else, but the silent words are clear enough to you both.
"Do you want something to eat?" you ask, out of habit more than anything else.
"Why not? We shouldn't face the apocalypse on an empty stomach."
You find yourself smiling at the lame attempt at humor, as you make sandwiches for both of you. He raids your fridge and pours himself a glass of milk.
"Don't bother with that," you tell him. "I have something better."
It takes you a minute of digging in your disorganized cabinet, but you eventually find a bottle of vintage wine. You were saving it for a special occasion. Well, nothing could be more special than the end of the world. You find two clean wine glasses and pour a drink for yourself and one for Romania. He laughs at its deep red shade. You know he's reminded of the blood he claims to drink.
A silent toast and the two of you drink deeply.
"It's very good," Romania remarks.
You nod. The wine is rather good. Not the best you've ever tasted, but good enough. Good enough for the end of the world.
"So, what do you think it'll be like?" he asks, staring down at the floor.
"Painful, I assume," you reply casually. "Probably terrifying."
"I think it'll be peaceful," he says. "It'll be quick. One moment you're there and the next you're just gone. You won't even know what happened."
"Maybe. Either way, the world's going to end."
He holds out a hand.
"I think I want to end it by your side," he requests.
You take the outstretched hand.
"That sounds good to me."
The two of you stand there, hand in hand, waiting patiently for the end of the world.