It's All Vague
Light fills in the darkness. Vietnam stirs awake, and she realizes she's been in the hospital. Her throat is dry. She refrained from speaking, feeling her voice hoarse.
The last thing she recalled was collapsing from her first world meeting since America had left. Memory starts to serve her well as she recalls her body trembling toward the end. Her tongue runs around her mouth. She can still taste blood. She can feel her body still strained from the many wars and long drawn out nights planning the steps to take to heal the country. Her mind wandered and recalled to China's look of piety mixed with anger and frustration. She also recalled Taiwan's presence. Breaking up the fights and bitter arguments exchanged was often unappreciated by both sides.
Her memory then jogs back to the end the meeting. Thailand shouting something, but the words escape her. Before memory fades again she recalls being carried in his arms to an ambulance truck and helpless murmurs.
Guilt bites in the back of her mind. She had still managed to come out of two wars and invasion. Her body was weak and allowing him to carry the burden was not in her.
She wants to curl back under the covers, the light is too bright and everything in the room spins. Instead she pulls her last bit of strength and bends down. With her hands cupped to his ear she whispers in a low voice, "Thank you."
Whether or not he heard her line did not matter right now. All that did matter was her flopping back onto her many pillows and comforters and allowing herself to fall into a deep sleep.
end.
A/N: I've been kind of lazy so sorry about that. As for the writing, this I decide to reference Vietnam being worn out from the Indochina Wars, Cambodian Genocide, and the transition into Communism.