"Peter,"

My little brother raised his head, his watery blue orbs flickering open in the darkness.

"It's time to get up, Peter. We have to leave."

Peter rubbed his face with his hands before slowly lifting himself from the makeshift bed. He groaned and placed his feet onto the ground, and I reached out to take his hand.

"You can't take anything with you," I said, pulling him away as he reached for his discarded knapsack at the edge of the bed. "It isn't safe, it might be contaminated. We can't risk it."

I led him out of our room, looking both ways before entering the large hallway. There were already groups of people scurrying down the stairs of the holding center, baggage clutched in their hands.

"I hope they know they cannot bring anything," Peter grumbled looking up at me in annoyance "Or perhaps, we can bring personal belongings, and you simply don't know what you are talking about?"

I frowned and ushered him down the stairs, following after the loads of people cramping into the tube that led us to another safe zone.

Five weeks after the initial outbreak, it was declared that all infected had died of starvation, and after eleven weeks, NATO forces led by the United States entered Great Britain. Then finally, after twenty-eight weeks, the US military sent in settlers to help repopulate the country.

"Alright, one at a time!" a camouflage clad soldier yelled in an American accent. He was trying to calm the rowdy passengers, each struggling to assure themselves a place on the tube. Other soldiers were scattered about the area, informing people that their belongings were not permitted entry."Now, now, everyone! Settle down! All of you can't fit in there! The tube'll have to make a few more trips around, okay?"

A groan rippled through the crowd, and Peter pushed himself closer to me.

"Hey! I said back up," the American raised his voice "You're all going to the same place! No need to push each other!"

"We've been waiting in this bloody place for weeks!" spat a rugged old man, with a strong northern accent "I've got family at district one! I ain't gonna let some yank soldier keep me from seeing 'em!"

The soldier exhaled through his nose and let his eyes wonder the crowd, landing on us.

"Hey, you two! Go right ahead,"

I tightened my grip on Peter's hand and pulled him through the crowd, ignoring the angry stares directed at us from my countrymen. Just lovely how humanity's true barbaric nature presents itself in times of crisis... I thought bitterly, entering the tube to sit with Peter; facing away from the windows.

"Oi! Why'd they get to go, huh?!" the nasty old prat continued to throw a tantrum like a disobedient child, his wispy gray hair was ruffled from constantly running his hands through it. "I've not seen 'em waiting that long! I've been in this blasted line for hours!"
The tall American gave the man a smile, his pearly white teeth beaming in the dim lighting of the holding center. "Cause they're kids, dude! Ever heard of women and children first? Don't worry though everyone, the second tube should be coming around soon!" there was more angry yelling, but the soldier simply stepped into the tube, the doors sliding shut behind him.

All was quiet as the tube car began to move, and soon, we were speeding down the railway and the passengers breathed in a sigh of relief. Chatter began to fill the enclosed space, and the American soldiers patrolled up and down the tube's passage way, keeping a vigilant eye on everything. There were children running along the aisles, and Peter left his seat to go join them.

"Hey,"

I glanced up to find the soldier from before standing over me. He took a seat across from mine, running a tired hand through his golden hair.

"Sorry about that, I know I probably seemed harsh back there, but I really wanted women and children to go first. It just feels like the right thing to do."

My eyes roamed over the soldier's face. I hadn't noticed his eyes were blue before, but now that I was getting a chance to get a good look at him, I realized that the soldier actually looked quite young. His hair was blonde, not like my own, but more gold- almost wheat colored. He had broad shoulders, and I could see the outlines of his muscles through his uniform.

"You have no reason to apologize," I said simply, crossing one leg over the other "That man was an utter prat. You were simply fulfilling your duties."

The soldier, for some reason, seemed surprised at my answer, as if no on had ever agreed with him on something before.

"Y-yeah! I know right? Like, who gets angry that children should be allowed to safety first?" he grinned, satisfied with himself, and leaned back into his seat. "I'm Alfred."

Peter ran by at the moment, chasing after an older red haired girl who was carrying a stuffed doll.

"So that's your little brother, huh?" the American said, chuckling as the two children began to engage in a tug of war over the toy.

"Yes," I said, frowning at the scene. "His name is Peter. He's twelve, still wets his trousers, and he's a bit of a brat."

The American chuckled again, his sky blue eyes twinkling. He flashed a charming smile, his overly white teeth nearly blinding me.

"I have a little brother too-well, he doesn't like to be called little. He's in the military like me. His name's Matthew," Alfred reached into one of the many pockets in his army jacket, pulling out a small leather photo album. He flipped through it before landing on the page he was looking for. He handed it to me. "See, there he is."

I raised an eyebrow at the soldier, wondering why he was so open and willing to talk about his personal life. I took the album from him anyway. He was American after all, they were always talkative and overly engaging. I glanced down at the photo of the two brothers. Alfred was smiling big for the camera, one arm was slung over another man's shoulders. The said man, who I assumed to be Matthew was a spitting image of Alfred, the only differences being that his hair was longer, wavier, and he had glasses. His small smile was overshadowed by Alfred's flashy grin. They were both wearing military camouflage, and I noticed the small Canadian flag stitched into Matthew's satchel.

"There's a Canadian flag there. He's Canadian?"

Alfred raised an eyebrow, leaning over to glance at the picture.

"Oh, hahaha! I never noticed the flag before," he sat back in his seat. "Yeah, he grew up in Canada, but I'm from the good ol' US of A. Our parents separated after we were born. I lived with my pop, and he stayed with mom, probably is why he's such a pansy."

I noticed the way Alfred shined when he talked about his family, his insults were all in good fun. I could tell he loved them, and I couldn't help the pang of envy that traveled through me. Alfred still had a family that loved and cared about him, all Peter and I had were each other.

"So what about you?"

I glanced up at the American. He was asking about my family. That thought alone annoyed me, how could a person be so rude as to implore into a stranger's personal life in such a way? If he wanted to share his entire life's story then fine. Good on him, but to meddle into mine, a man he just met was shameless.

I glared out of the window in annoyance, crossing my arms over my chest.

Alfred waited in silence for a good (and awkward might I add) three minutes before seeming to finally sense that my mood had soured.

"Sorry about that," he chuckled again "I tend to ramble on when I meet new people. It's just that I noticed that there's just you and your brother. District one was strongly against letting children into the premises until just recently. I think Peter just might be the youngest child in the entire country."

I felt a small pang of guilt for being annoyed at the American. He was simply trying to gather information on the passengers on board. I had heard about the strict 'No Children' policy in District One before, and I had been worried that upon arriving, Peter would be taken from me.

"They won't place him somewhere else if he has a legal guardian. I was wondering how old you are, if you don't mind me asking."

My eyes wandered down the aisle, locking on Peter and the red haired child. They sat sprawled out on the tube floor, coloring on some spare sheets of copy paper that the soldiers had placed out, probably to keep them occupied.

"I'm twenty-three," I answered calmly, hiding the growing panic building inside of me.

Alfred's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped, hanging limply. I stared back at him, blinking owlishly. What was it? Was there a different legal guardian age in America? Was Peter going to be taken away from me?

"What is it? Spit it out!" I growled in anticipation. "You're taking Peter? Just try it and I'll-"

"N-no, it's not that, you can stay with Peter" the American said, his eyes had returned to their normal size. "It's just...you're twenty-three? Man, that's old."

"..."

"Hahaha!"

I redirected my attention toward the window, attempting to focus on the fast moving scenery outside. The sky was a dull grey colour. Cloudless, and calm. The stunning greenery of the English countryside buzzed past me, and for once, in a long time, I felt a small sense of security wash over me. The American, as dimwitted as he was; gave me a strange comfort. He was loud, and boisterous. He was carefree despite the circumstances surrounding us, and I could tell that he truly believed that everything would be alright. It was a naïve notion, and although I pitied him, yes, I couldn't help but admire his optimism and youth. I noticed the world outside began to slow before me, realizing that our trip had come to an end. A voice from the overhead sounded above me.

"Alright! We're here, welcome to District One!"

Peter pushed past me, fumbling to get through the tube doors when they first opened.

"Peter! Wait a moment you git!" I said, rising from my seat to follow after him.

The tube slowed until it came to a complete stop in front of a larger establishment. People pressed their faces to the glass, some crying out in excitement, others shuffled nervously.

When the doors opened, civilians piled out from the tube. Many called out for their loved ones, but few actually reunited with any. American servicemen stood idly by, directing people to their rooms and distributing welcoming kits.

Peter laughed and scurried past the soldiers, running to the large window in the day area. He pressed his face onto the glass, peering down to the ground below.

"This place is huge!" he exclaimed. He turned to look back at me, his mouth splitting into a large grin. I gawked. I hadn't seen him smile like that in a long time, I didn't think he could anymore.

"Do we really get to stay here?"

"You do,"

I glanced over my shoulder to see Alfred. He handed me two small packages, smiling gently.

"This'll help you get settled" he said, and I turned the boxes over in my hands, peeling at the thin paper covering."You guys will be directed to your rooms shortly. I have to get back to base."

I looked up at him, feeling a strange sense of disappointment over the soldier's parting.

"Thank you," I said awkwardly "Again."

The American grinned and gave a salute, turning to rejoin his fellow troops. He suddenly stopped in his tracks, looking back at me.

"Hey! By the way, what's your name?"

I glanced around at District One, taking in the new surroundings. The new settlers were eagerly picking through their welcome kits, embracing each other merrily. Everyone seemed happier somehow, everything felt normal, and I was optimistic that my country would flourish once again.

"Arthur," I said, giving the American a small smile "Arthur Kirkland."

A/N: So yeah. 28 weeks later meets Hetalia. Obviously this fic will not be entirely based off of the film. It will follow a slightly similar plot, but there will be minor changes here and there. I'm excited about this fic as I've been wanting to write this concept for a long time. 28 weeks later is one of my all time favorite movies. Oh, and yes. If you haven't guessed already, this will be USUK.

Please read and review! Let me know what you think!