Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!

My vision blurs as I finally wake up from the clutches of unconsciousness. I turn my head to the left and then to the right. There's white everywhere. A machine beeps to the side of me. This room reeks of medicine and sanitary equipment. My head feels fuzzy as I try to recount the events that had happened that led me to this unknown place. I have a good idea of what this place is, but it seems all too unreal. Like I'm in a dream or a nightmare, or something along those lines.

My attention is now on a door that is slowly opening. It was a doctor in a very white coat. His hair was slicked back and he wore glasses. There was a comforting air about him. He gives me an innocent smile as he takes a seat next to my bed. "You're awake now. That's great."

I nod slowly, staring at this happy man. "I'm in a hospital, correct?"

He chuckles. "Right you are, England."

I jump. He knows me as a country? I give him a worried look, but he dismisses that away with the wave of his hand. "It's all right—I have been sworn to secrecy. Only I and a couple of other doctors know that you are actually England. The others simply know you as 'Arthur'."

I sigh with relief and smile. "Thank you."

He chuckles. "A man of many words, I see. But it's not a problem." He gets up from his seat. "I'm just going to check out a couple of things to make sure that you're OK now that you had the drugs pumped out of you."

I gasp. That's right. I was severely drugged. "What kind of drugs were in me?"

The doctor frowns as he grabs his sanitary equipment from across the room. "Oh dear. Several dangerous ones that should have killed you in an instant. Ecstasy, Special K, and a just a hint of Rohypnol—Rohypnol is known as the typical 'date-rape drug' or also known as 'Roofies'." He pauses to wash his hands and apply gloves. "I have every reason to believe that he intended to rape and then kill you. All of those drugs are usually associated with sexual assault. You're lucky he made the right choice to change his mind before he could do so."

I get a weird feeling in my stomach. "Really? That's..rather unfortunate—I mean, having all of those drugs in me." I sigh. "Where is He now?"

He looks into my eyes as he brings the cart next to the bed. "I'm not sure. Germany knows, though, so when I'm finished here I'll bring him in."

After the doctor, whose name is apparently Dr. McKenna, checked me and OK'ed me, he let Germany in so I could talk to him.

"So, what did the doctor say?" He asked once he sat down.

I shake my head. "Nothing much. He said I'm doing fine but I have to stay here and recuperate considering the situation." I wince as I situate myself on the bed. "My stomach hurts like bloody hell, though."

Germany chuckled nervously. "Well, that is to be expected, ja? We're all glad that you're all right. The doctor told me that we got you in here just on time. If we left you any longer, you would have been dead before we could save you."

I smile. "And I thank you all for that, really. It was kind of surprising to know that I was drugged that badly. I didn't even feel like I was dying, but I did feel like I was under the influence of something."

Germany nodded. "That's what the doctor said. You were completely out of it, but yet you were functioning all right—from America's point of view, anyway."

"What ever happened to him?"

Germany's face sinks. "We had him checked out as well—and he let us—but it turns out that there was something wrong with his brain wave patterns or something along those lines. They think he's literally insane. So chances are, once they find out what's really wrong, they'll send him to an insane asylum."

I gasp. "...Really?"

Germany nodded, a shadow crossing his face. "Unfortunately so. I'm sorry, England."

I sit back against the back of my bed and look straight ahead of me. On the TV, there was a news reporter talking about recent disasters around the Earth. "...'several countries are nonexistent,' says Robert Cunningham, a geographer. 'Any reasons as to how or why this happened is completely a mystery to us. It's literally impossible for countries to disappear like that.'"

The TV goes to an image of England. "Several people from England have gone to visit a doctor because of a 'constant pain' in their stomachs, as well as other symptoms. Doctors have found that there are drugs in their systems—'It is unexplainable why they have these drugs in them,' Dr. Raymond states, 'Most of the patients have stated that they have never taken an illegal drug in their life.' Also," the reporter continues, "many Americans are unstable psychologically—almost a quarter of the American population have been sent to insane asylums and it is predicted that the number will increase a large sum within a month."

Germany groans and shakes his head. "All of this is the result of one's own stupidity."

I look at the stressed German and he continues on, "If America weren't so curious as to what killing felt like, everything would have been fine and not out of hand."

I nod. "That you are right," I agree, sighing. "If only I weren't too pussy to tell someone that America was the murderer the whole time. Everything wouldn't have been so screwed up, then."

Germany chuckles. "I suppose you're right on that one. Not that I'm saying you are a pussy, but several other countries would have been saved and even you wouldn't be in the situation you are in right now."

"...This is completely irrelevant," I start. Germany gives me a questioning look. "but, is it all right if you can take me to visit America when I'm admitted out of the hospital?"

Germany's brows furrowed. "...Why?"

"I don't know," I shrug, "I guess to say my final good bye before he's taken into the insane asylum."

Germany hesitates for a moment, wondering what to say. I give him a pleading look. He sighs once he sees the look and shakes his head. "Damn, you're just like Italy when he wants something—persistent and needy!" he pauses, shaking his head. "Fine. I don't understand why you would want to see him again, but I'll take you. Just be careful, ja?"

I nod. "Be careful? He can't do anything."

"Ja, you are correct." Germany nods. "But he is a tricky bastard."

"I know that." I sigh.

"I've known for a long time."

Author's Note: Just a chapter or so to go! (At least on my plans, anyhow. That may change /shot)

Reviews are appreciated~ Thanks for reading!