Hello all! Thank you so much for all the love! We send it right back to our lovely readers. Oh, and please don't kill us for the end...

Disclaimer: Don't own APH.


Chapter 8: Moirai

It takes Yao far too long to reach Hera's house in rush hour traffic. When he finally gets there, he finds he is just in time to see Gupta contemplating the door. Who contemplates doors? Who even waits for an answer? He kicks the door down with his usual flourish, throwing himself into the apartment and dragging Gupta with him.

"ARU! Where is the patient, and why is there sick all over the floor? Kiku, what have I told you about taking care of sick nations? AYAH! We must get to work!" He throws his knapsack on the floor and begins pulling out more ingredients than he should ever be able to fit inside.

Turkey is so shocked by the sudden entrance he nearly jumps into Greece's lap, and does end up clinging to the unconscious nation. At Egypt's raised brow he coughs and disentangles himself, putting on his angry face. "Hey! Keep it down, brat's sick as hell. What took you so long, Gupta? And what are you doing here?"

China crosses his arms over his chest. "ARU-ARU! What do you mean 'what am I doing here'? I'm here because Kiku told me Hera-kun is sick! We cannot have sick nations making us all ill!"

Egypt merely grunts in acknowledgement of the room's inhabitants before beginning his work, setting up powerful incense in each corner of the room and a chemistry set by the nearest window. He does not say a word to Turkey, nor does he acknowledge that he has been spoken to. Their brief meeting of eyes is enough. He pulls out a bottle of very fragrant oil and begins to massage Greece, starting with the feet and meticulously working his way upward.

Japan raises an eyebrow at Egypt's presence, but immediately gets to work cleaning up the vomit without asking what's going on. He has a feeling Turkey made that call. He cleans fast, running the water back to the bathroom and spilling it down the drain.

"KIKU!" China yells. "Get me my biggest pot when you're done cleaning that up! Hurry!"

The room feels over-crowded with healers now, and Turkey wonders if he should leave. He's the one who is out of place, with his lack of caring expertise. But he's stubborn, and someone needs to be here who isn't going to coddle the brat. Which is exactly what he's doing sitting by the bed and holding Greece's hand - not coddling. "We - that is, mostly Japan - have tried pretty much everything. Every time we think he's gotten better, he gets worse again. He can't even keep down the medicine Japan's been giving him."

China yanks the pot from Japan's fingers and sets it on the stove, beginning preparations for a pot of his famously healing chicken soup. "Not Good! Kiku, what have you been giving him? What kind of medicine?" he calls from the kitchen.

Kiku watches Sadik hold Hera's hand, trying not to stare, blush, look the way he feels. He's embarrassed with Yao here, and if Yao knew the thoughts on his mind, he'd give him a sound spanking. Gupta isn't so bad. He's quiet, just... Well. Kiku's not sure he likes the way he's touching Hera everywhere. "I gave him economic and cultural serums. His social unrest should be quiet by now. I don't understand why he's still so feverish."

Yao drops his ingredients to the counter and heads over to where Hera is laying, checking his pulse and feeling his forehead. With that touch, he yanks his hand back as though burned. "He's too hot, aru! Get some ice. Now!"

The hand within Sadik's was warm, but the Turk was hoping that was just from him holding onto it. He reaches up to feel Hera's cheek and sighs. "Almost as bad as it was before. C'mon, brat, it'll be boring if you leave. No one else is quite so much fun to torment." He rubs the back of Hera's hand, because that's what people do when they're worried, right? He doesn't know what else he can do, anyway.

As Gupta reaches Hera's thighs, he realizes just how hot his skin is. This is not good. Hera is sweating too hard, and his breathing is labored. He looks so pale, too; Gupta has never seen Hera look so unhealthy. It is time for desperate measures. He slides away from his charge's body to reach for his chemistry set.

XXX

Greece is racing after Turkey turkey and waving around J pan, when the ground beneath his feet suddenly falls away into a valley of flames, so deep and bright he thinks it must be a split straight down to the belly of the earth. He tries to skid to a stop, tossing J pan back the way they came in an effort to at least save what remains of his friend. The turkey flies; he wasn't even sure such a bird could fly. But Greece has little time to contemplate this as he scrambles desperately, vainly, and falls over the edge.

He screams and tries to grab a ledge, a branch, anything, but there is nothing to slow his descent into the bowels of flame. Once more he burns, burns and screams and hurts, and he cannot breathe or speak for the ash in his lungs.

Just as suddenly it all disappears, and Greece finds himself kneeling in a long, grey hall. There are massive pillars on either side and the floor is made of marble, cool and smooth against his burning skin. A light at the end of the hall beckons to him, and there are several shadowed figures before it. Wound about all -entangling his body, spilling over the floor, and wrapping around the pillars - is bright blue string. It seems endless, and it has such a strange texture: somehow organic, like a massive vein.

He tries to stand, to squint at the light. The figures become clearer, and he sees that there are three women with one eye to share, holding a gigantic pair of scissors. His heart flies to his throat, but he bows his head in grim acceptance. So. Here he faces death.

"Mother," Greece whispers, "I hope I can see you again."

XXX

Sadik nearly goes into a fit himself when Hera's labored breathing becomes worse, so harsh it hurts to listen to. Hera chokes on every breath, and when Sadik squeezes his wrist he can feel how erratic the pulse is. "DO SOMETHING!" he shouts to the others, for all he can do is hold Hera's hand and shift his torso to lean against him. He tries rubbing over Hera's back, muttering into his ear. "Don't you dare, you little bastard. You hear me? Don't you fucking dare! I'm going to keep you right here, and then I'm going to remind you about it every day for the rest of our lives!"

"Hera-!" Kiku drops everything, including the ice, at the sound of Sadik losing his mind. He runs into the bedroom, wrapping himself around Hera and calling his name. "Hera, please! Please come back! Please! I need you!" He's nearly in tears; but the body in his arms is nearly on fire. Worse still, it looks like Hera can't breathe.

Gupta looks over his shoulder as the whole world seems to come down on them all, Hera's skin burning hot to the touch and his breath barely there. He reaches into his kit and calmly pulls out a syringe, uncapping it and filling it with the strongest antidote he has.

Kiku is shaking Hera now, nearly screaming as he sees his head fall back, feels his heartbeat growing faint. He barely notices Gupta rise from his place, slowly walk over, and jam a needle into Hera's bare ass. But the impact makes him jumps, because Hera starts to spasm and convulse like he's having a massive seizure. Even as Hera flails, Gupta does not react. He removes his needle and places a band-aid over the sight, then moves back to his kit and sits on his knees, watching.

"What the HELL did you do to him?!" Sadik bellows, holding onto Hera for dear life to keep him from hurting himself as his body seizes. "Hang on, küçük savaşçı. Fight!" [little warrior]