Cold.

For a moment, Alfred wondered if this had been the right thing to do. If in all of his dizzy bubble-brained ideas that he had missed some other way. There had to be another way- and England would just yell at him, and Canada would ask him why he was so stupid sometimes, not to see-

Freezing.

Yeah. Arthur and Mattie would be pissed.

But there hadn't been time to build a robot, or giant hero, or inflate a hot air balloon.

There'd only been America, Alfred, and there'd been the kids- and the bus.

The streets were slick with frozen rain, and the stormy clouds hadn't let enough light into the atmosphere, so everyone had to rely on the street lamps. Not that that had made a difference, as the bus driver had obviously not seen the three cars before him skid on the dangerous road, then recover just before the overlook-

Alfred had seen it, because he'd been at the overlook for an hour, waiting for Mattie to finish whatever the hell he was doing romping in the snow- Hiking the trails around Mount Washington was supposed to be some kind of thrill- but a thrill that Alfred did not share. Nor was he pleased to be waiting out here in the cold and rain, but Canada had promised pancakes, and Mattie's pancakes were almost worth it- and the view, despite the weather wasn't that shabby (Vanity, Arthur called it.)

And then there'd been the sound of an engine brake, and the bright yellow schoolbus-

America smiled faintly, despite the way he could feel the heat of his own blood leaking from the corner of his mouth, and cooling in the frigid air.

The cold was good for something, at least. He couldn't feel pain anymore. But maybe that was just because his back was broken. But Alfred didn't care. It didn't fucking matter, so long as he could remember the sight of the last of those kids stepping onto solid ground, and running to a safer spot.

The kids and their driver were safe. That was all that mattered.

The bus had skidded through the parkinglot, and into the overlook, narrowly missing Alfred. The guard rail had crumpled like paper, and the front wheels of the thing were dangling over the side.

Alfred could hear the kids screaming, hear the bus driver scream-

And the vehicle had started to tilt.

The patch of ice at the back of the vehicle had prevented Alfred from gaining any sort of purchase to pull it backwards. Pulling down to even it out and allow the kids to escape had produced a screaming of the metal that reminded him of where the weak points were- he'd end up tearing the thing apart, and making the front mounted engine heavier, sending the thing over the steep drop.

There was no time, and the weather station personnel wouldn't be able to do anything effective. So Alfred did the only thing he could think of; hopped over the guardrail, and used what little solid ground there was to brace, and lift the bus keep it from falling, so the passengers had time to evacuate out the back.

Who'd have thought the frozen ground could be so comfortable, Alfred thought, as darkness crept up on the periphery of his vision. He'd probably strained something from holding the bus in that position for so long. What. A minute? Two? Nah. It was probably just the angle at which he'd been forced to hold it, while feeling the earth beneath his feet start crumbling.

Maybe he should've let go at that point, but the driver was still trying to get one of the smallest children out. That would have saved Alfred- he could have grabbed onto the rail, and just let the bus go, but...

No. The small smile remained on his face. No, that wasn't what a hero did at all.

And so, he'd held on until he saw the last two exit- and let go, only to find himself falling with the school bus. And falling.

And falling.

Of all the ways America had thought he might die, this... wasn't one of them. (Not that he'd stay dead, but being dead kind of sucked, and kind of hurt, and kind of was one of the biggest pains in the asses for any Nation to recover from, because it meant way too much time recuperating, and hoping that no one attacked, and...)

Landing had knocked the breath out of him, and probably broken his leg, and maybe his spine. And caused a few internal injuries that made him want to curl up in a little ball- not that he'd had time to do much more than yelp (Because Heroes didn't whimper) 'Fuck'- as the bright yellow bus had landed beside him, showering him with broken glass, debris (Someone's permission slip to visit the observatory had briefly gotten stuck on his face, before being blown away by the wind. Maria...) and finally a bit of the rear axle had lodged itself through his midsection.

An explosion of pain, and then the numbness set in.

Ok, so it probably wasn't the cold that was keeping him from drawing a deep breath.

The blue-gray clouds swirled above him, winds keeping him from hearing if they'd called an ambulance or something- if Mattie had made it, maybe he could make sure the driver got that cut above his eyebrow taken care of, rather than wasting time (And risking the human lives) trying to get to him.

Yeah. If Mattie were there-

As if on cue, his twin's face was above his, looking mildly panicked, almost scared, and annoyed.

"You're late." Alfred managed to mumble, "Kids?"

"They're all safe, Al." Mattie was probably annoyed because of all the hassle-

"'Kay," Alfred said with a sigh, feeling his heart slow. The numbness that had grasped him was curling in, shutting him down.

"Rest easy, Hero." Alfred thought he heard Matthew say as death took him in her cold embrace.