84. No Man Left Behind

Date Written: July 16, 2019

Date Posted: December 1 2020

Characters: Veneziano, Ukraine

Summary: An attack at an international function has Ukraine scared and injured. Amidst the ruins of the building, she waits for reinforcements.

Notes:


Pain.

That was all Ukraine could feel as she tried to move from her prone position on what used to be a pristine marble floor. All around her, as she struggled to right herself, bits of rubble and debris shifted and cracked under her weight. For the most part, she had remained unscathed from the sudden attack on the building, but debris had trapped her left leg. Luckily, as a Nation accustomed to agricultural work and throwing her weight around, Ukraine was more than equipped to remove the debris from hindering her further.

Task done, the blonde woman groaned and felt wayward tears leak from the corners of her eyes. Like most Nations, she was no stranger to pain. Despite that, like any other sane being with working nerves, she knew that she would rather not feel pain lancing up and down her leg.

Broken.

A broken leg was holding her down.

Wanting to make sure that she was all right, the agricultural Nation weakly tested the strength of her legs. Her right leg could still bend and bear weight, but her left completely collapsed when she applied pressure. All Nations had experienced pain and scarring after living for so long, but everyone had limits. As Ukraine fell back onto the floor, she immediately felt great melancholy for being so useless. If only she wasn't a Nation just meant for farming, she thought.

Still, even if she could not move physically, her vocal chords had not been injured in the midst of the sudden blast. Gathering whatever strength she had left, she sat up straight and readied her voice. Above her, the ceiling groaned and creaked, bits of debris still raining down every few seconds signaling her impending demise if no one were to hear her.

Brushing aside those thoughts, she screamed for help.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

And again.

Every few seconds, she would rest her voice, but the thoughts of her upcoming death prevented her from resting far too often. Her throat hurt from her continuous pleas for help, but she carried on. So what if she lost her voice? Or that her vocal chords felt like sandpaper in her fragile throat?

She had to at least try.

As she brushed aside the tears that rose in her eyes, she continued the mantra that she was not useless.

She was an agricultural Nation, but she was definitely not useless.

"Miss Ukraine!"

At the sound of her savior answering, she immediately threw away her self-pity. She was no longer alone! Tears, this time brought about by joy instead of fear and pain, were allowed to flow freely down the apples of her cheeks. By the sound of it, her savior of the day was—

"It's me! Italy!"

His voice seemed to grow closer as he called out. His footsteps, usually so soft and graceful like that of a dancer's could be heard as if he was purposely stepping on all the debris and broken glass. Ukraine was grateful for it. She would rather hear him stomping around instead of getting ambushed by goodwill.

"Mr. Italy! Please, I'm here!" Her voice was hoarse, but she managed to give voice to her bellowed pleas so that he could come rushing to her aid.

Frantic now, Ukraine could hear the sound of posh dress shoes skidding and jumping over the mess of the meeting room. "Are you all right? The building will collapse soon!"

Ukraine shuddered. She did not want to die today. It was too much of a hassle and it brought about undue grief to her mental faculties.

"I'm here!" Ukraine glanced around her surroundings, taking in the chaos and the shards of glittering glass that had fallen down the walls near her. "I'm next to the area where there used to be windows!"

"And yourself?" Italy's voice was closer, but this time, he sounded frustrated and concerned for her. "Please tell me that you're all right, Miss Ukraine!"

"My leg, the left one, I think it's been broken!"

"Call out again so I can find you." Closer. His voice seemed closer.

For a few more moments, Ukraine called out for North Italy. Pretty soon, the flighty brunet managed to find a way to get to the blonde. When he finally came across her, he immediately began scanning her body for injuries.

"Left leg," she mumbled. Still in great pain (but surely shock will set in soon), she managed to withhold her scream as the Italian gently revealed her leg by tearing a section off her pants. Out of all the troubles and horrors she had spent in war and other unspeakable human acts, the broken leg was like a paper cut. Small and trivial, but painful. "C-can you…"

"I'll have to carry you," Italy said in the most solemn tone that Ukraine ever heard.

Instantly, Ukraine felt conscious about her body. She was a tall, stately woman with generously soft curves and an even softer heart. She had broad muscles from working in the fields. In comparison, the Italian was slim and his muscles were more toned than bulging.

Ukraine feared that Italy might not be able to carry her.

Italy must have seen the anxiety on her face because he immediately caressed her cheeks with the pads of his fingers and calmed her nerves by placing a kiss on her forehead. Such gentle actions had increased the flow of her tears, but had slowed down the beating of her heart until it was lulled into an old lullaby. It had taken only a mere moment, but she was now assured that she would not be left behind. Now soothed, Ukraine gave him a genuine, albeit watery, smile.

"Don't worry, Miss Ukraine! Everyone deserves to get the chance to be carried anywhere they like!"

First, before he began transporting her to somewhere more safe, he created a splint from some debris that looked thin, but strong enough to be used. Without complaining, he used parts of his suit jacket to wrap her leg for the splint. Once that was done, he gently pulled her up and placed her right arm around his shoulders so that he could bear some of her weight.

"See?" He chided her gently. "I can take you anywhere you like! Once your leg heals, I'll even carry you in my arms!"

Ukraine giggled despite herself as she hobbled with him at her side.

"Mr. Italy!" She scolded in return. "Now is not the time for flirting."

He flashed her a quick smile that had her blushing like a newly touched virgin.

"But you're welcome to carry me any time you like."

Together, they managed to find other groups of straggling Nations in varying states of distress. Luckily for all of them, escape from the collapsing building was within reach: they made it out just in time before some of the humans present noted that it would be too dangerous to go back inside.

Ukraine hugged Italy around the middle before she was carted off into medical services.

"Mr. Italy, thanks—"

He shushed her with another kiss to the forehead.

"I would have never left you behind." He held her gaze, his dark brown eyes boring into hers with serious, promising intent. "Never, Miss Ukraine."