Can't Catch a Shadow

Hetalia sat by the small lake, bare feet dangling in the water, as she waited for Andre to come and join her. She had a soft smile on her face as she stared into the crystal clear water, thinking of the good things that had come to pass for her recently.

Then, Andre’s boots appeared next to hers. She tried not to giggle as he sighed and sat down next to her, letting his feet join hers in the water.

“You’re late,” she said, accent dripping with glee at his presence.

The Englishman shrugged. “A king is never late. Peasants are simply early.”

“So I am a peasant now?”

Andre shook his head. “Of course not. You’re special enough to be a queen.”

Hetalia blushed and looked back at their feet in the water. “Is that some kind of proposal?”

Andre shook his head quickly a blush slowly appeared on his face. “No, no. Course not.”

Hetalia felt her heart sink, but she quickly covered her disappointment. “Good,” she said simply, forcing a small laugh paired with a fake smile. “I’m not ready for that kind of commitment.”

He nodded, contemplating how he was going to proceed. “You need to get out of here while you still can.”

Hetalia turned and stared at him in shock. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“You can’t stay here in The Cage for your whole life. I won’t allow it.”

“Andre? What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

Andre quickly took her hand as if he would never have the chance if he didn’t do it right then and there. Her hand was cold and her skin was much paler than his. “I’m going to help you escape.”

“No,” she said simply, shaking her head. “No, they’ll kill you!”

“Don’t worry about me, Hetalia. I want you to be able to live a good life. I want you to fall in love. I want you to get married, have children, and be the queen you’re destined to be.”

Hetalia shook her head as she tried to rip her hand from his. “I am going to worry about you! I wouldn’t know what to do with my life if I lost you! I’d be so alone and confused!”

“No, you wouldn’t be,” Andre said as he took her hand back. “You’d be fine on your on.”

“Maybe I don’t want to leave, Andre!” Hetalia shouted as she ripped her hand from his, feeling her anger boil over.

Andre just stared at her. “Why wouldn’t you want to leave?”

Her eyes welled up with tears. “Because you’re my life now. I have no one else, Andre.”

****

Hetalia sat on her bunk, staring at Kari’s sleeping body. Her chest would rise and fall in a soothing rhythm. Kari wouldn’t be able to survive in the real world, with or without her crazy medications. But what about her? Andre had conceived this excellent plan to bust her out, conveniently leaving out his survival until the very end, promising he’d do his best to make it out. But Hetalia knew the truth. If they weren’t fast enough or efficient enough, he may not make it.

Then there was the fact that Andre would be running around the world with a convicted felon. That wouldn’t be easy for either of them.

A quiet tapping on the bars made the thirteen year old jump as her head spun towards the noise.

There stood Andre, waiting patiently for her. “It’s time, Hetalia.”

Hetalia nodded, tying up her boots and standing up.

****

To Andre, the plan was good enough. Bust Hetalia out of her cell, distract his father while she freed others and killed the guards, burn her records, and attempt to get out before the entire complex burns to the ground after most likely exploding.

Again, it was a simple plan. It just involved a whole lot of risks.

Andre walked into his father’s office, expression and demeanor completely neutral.

“Andre,” he rasped without looking up from his forms. As he opened his mouth to speak, a grotesque, barking cough interrupted him.

His son approached smoothly as the warden buckled over, seeming as though he would cough up a lung. His face was turning a purple-ish red and the veins in his face were overly prominent.

“Father, your illness is worsening,” Andre said in monotone.

Kerchef held up a hand, stopping his son in his tracks. “I am not ill, my son,” he rasped, finally recovering from his coughing fit. “I am just a little under the weather. This shall pass.”

Andre nodded once and grabbed a manila folder off the desk, studying the contents. “When did you plan on telling me that you saw the prison doctor, who happens to be a prisoner?”

“Andre, that is none of your business!” the warden barked, pointed a dirty, gangly finger at his son.

“He thinks you may have cancer,” he said quietly, acting as though his father didn’t say anything. “Did it not occur to you that I should’ve been informed?”

“Andre!” he shouted as best as he could, straining himself by jumping up and reaching for the folder.

Andre moved gracefully, dodging his father’s grabby hands.

The warden, feeling all his energy drain, fell back into his chair, gasping for breath as another coughing fit rolled through him.

Andre sat, closing the folder and letting it rest on his lap. “Father, please tell me what you know.”

After his coughing subsided, Kerchef straightened up in his chair and looked Andre in the eye. “He thinks that this cancer in my lungs was caused by living in these conditions all my life. Being underground has made my system susceptible to illness, namely my current…condition.”

His son nodded, trying to absorb all the information. “So would this cancer be in anyone who has lived here?”

The warden shook his head. “Not to worry, my son. You do not have it, and neither does your little prison whore.”

The young man quickly stood, closing the distance between him and his father, landing a blow to his face. “Do not speak of Hetalia that way!”

Trying not to let the blood drip down his face while trying to gather enough breath, Miguel laughed slightly. “And why ever not?”

Andre, still looming over his father as another coughing fit came about, shook his head at the warden. “Because she’s on her way here, now. She’s coming here to kill you and your precious prison.”