Broken
Canada panted as he limped to the world meeting he was late for; in his cast and crutches. Three days ago, at a Quebec vs. Russia game, Russia had tackled Canada too hard and dislocated his hip and broke his femur; it hurt a lot. Canada had left the hospital early by helicopter just to get to the meeting over with before he world return to the hospital for pain killers.
"Finally," Canada panted in front of the doors.
With mush difficulty, Canada opened the door, holding in a moan of pain when the door hit his sensitive leg. He silently sighed in relief when he finally got in the room and then turned around. Canada stifled a gasp; everyone was looking at him.
"Mattie, what happened?!" America demanded, standing up.
"I-I-I—uh," Canada couldn't fins his worlds; he's never had this much attention on him.
"I'm afraid that's my fault da," Russia said without care. "I forgot how strong I was for a moment.
"You broke his bloody leg you wanker!" England shouted; standing up.
"During a hockey game!" Canada quickly added. "It's an occupation injury."
America and England huffed but dropped it. Canada sighed in relief and went to his seat when suddenly he was falling backwards and into a chair. Canada looked up in shock to see France.
"That's looks heavy mon cher," France said to the unsaid question.
It was true, because of hip, Canada had to hold his leg out and forward so it wouldn't bend; in truth, he was supposed to be in a wheel chair. Canada silently thanked his pap as France wheeled him to an empty spot. Canada slumped down and stared as his leg, still up, when suddenly a stool was under it. Canada untended and eased his foot down with a released sigh; he looked up to see America.
"Ve! Can I sign it?!" Italy shouted; marker in hand.
Not waiting for answer, Italy was already over and writing '~Pasta!'
"Me too," America said and signed: 'America the Hero!'
Soon everyone was coming by and signing it. Canada chuckled and shook his head. So all he had to do was get broken.
~End