I don't own Hetalia! end/AN/
Hong Kong would croak every so often, and words would come out in dry whispers, but he was having a hard time holding on.
Australia had been cradling him for the past few hours, with China stroking his hair, though he'd long gone silent. There was a deadness to his eyes, as if this was something he saw everyday.
Hong Kong tried to croak again, and his face was red, and his body weak.
"No, sh, come on, there's a big boy," Australia said, glad that China wasn't crying over it. He could only imagine how maddening it would be to Hong Kong to see tears on someone else. He gently took Hong Kong's hand, which was already feeling papery.
If it had been another circumstance, Hong Kong would have gotten annoyed at being called a 'big boy.' As he'd repeated time and again before the war, "I'm not a child. Don't treat me like one."
China looked like his arms would fall off at any minute. He didn't say anything encouraging, the line of his mouth grim.
Hong Kong croaked once more, and his lip split as he tried to talk; blood oozed slowly out of it.
"We should put him out of his misery," China said, as if this was the merciful thing to do.
"What?" Australia stared dumbly, sure that China hadn't just said that. Hong Kong looked at them both fearfully, letting out a scratchy, whispering, 'No!'
China still had his hands on Hong Kong's head, and he gently covered his ears. "Australia, I've been here for months, if not a year. They won't stop tormenting him, because they don't realize the only way to kill a nation is by another nation's hand. He's too young to hold up for much longer; he's barely been here a month, and look at him; he's skin and bones, he's helpless, frail. What I'm suggesting is a mercy."
Hong Kong's paper dry hands grasped at China's wrists, but he couldn't push him off.
Australia gaped. "You can't be serious! I would never kill Hong Kong! We're going to make it out, you'll see!"
China's face turned to a grimace, as he said, "You're the only one who can save him from this, Australia. I'm not strong enough; he'll fight me, and I won't be able to finish it."
Hong Kong's dark eyes were on both of them, as if trying to figure out what they were saying.
Australia nearly yelled at China, "You can't make me, you crazy bastard! Stop it, you're scaring Hong Kong!"
China removed his hands from Hong Kong's ears, mouth set in a grim line. "You'll see. When you lose your strength, you're going to wish you'd done something."
Australia pulled Hong Kong closer, as the colony made whimpering noises and tried to clutch Australia's sleeve.
"Wait. How does Japan not know?" Australia said, brow crinkling.
"He hasn't attempted to kill another nation. Not yet. And he is much too busy for them to think of having him try," China said, then he sighed again. "He's attempted, in the past, with Korea, but he was unsuccessful." His tone seemed to suggest Korea's luck would not last.
Australia could feel his emotions boiling over; he glared at China's apparent indifference, saying, "You're a crazy bastard if you think I'll kill anyone. And I'm not going to get weak. You'll see, England will come for us."
China gave him a look that could only be described as an adult looking down on a petulant child. "England is busy. He has his own battles to win. He may come for you, someday, but it'll be far too late by then."
Australia held Hong Kong tightly, murmuring to him, "It'll be all right; England'll come. He'll come."
China said nothing more.
By the next day, Hong Kong felt very hot to the touch. He couldn't choke out any words, and his lips were cracked and oozing blood whenever he tried.
Much to Australia's surprise, China was there for Hong Kong; he continually ran his hands through his hair, something that seemed to soothe Hong Kong to some extent. It was as though he couldn't kill Hong Kong himself, despite having been so sure that Australia ought to.
When the doctors showed up again, voicing what appeared to be disapproval of the fact that Hong Kong wasn't dead, Australia burned with anger.
They went after China next, unwrapping his feet, which turned out to be covered in reddish bumps and purple bruises. China laid on the ground and stared at the ceiling, only wincing when they injected him through his feet.
"What are they doing?" Australia demanded, watching anxiously.
China grimaced, saying, "They can't use my arms and legs anymore, so they go for my feet."
His teeth were gritted, and he looked almost as though, if he weren't so apathetic at this point, he would kick the doctors in the face.
They drew back, and this time they approached Australia.
He clenched his fists, ready to fight. "Like hell you're doing that to me!"
But guards surged towards him and pinned him, despite his howling in anger. Another injection for him; he cursed out the doctors, the guards, anyone he could.
The needle was thick, and they injected through his neck; amazingly, they bothered to put a bandage over the injection site. Nothing felt wrong, strangely enough.
When the doctors and guards left the room, Australia was quick to be by China and Hong Kong. "China? Are you dying?"
China let out a groan, rewrapping his feet. "Poison," he said shortly, looking rather green in the face.
Australia nodded, saying, "I don't feel different."
"And you won't until it takes effect," China replied, pulling Hong Kong's head into his lap once more. It was as if carding his hair was all that kept China sane.
Australia licked his lips nervously.
It was only hours later that he realized just how serious this attempt to kill him was.
/AN/ I hope this is going okay. It's definitely not quite like any story I've written.
