A/N: Hello again! Do you get the feeling sometimes where you have to say something really important but you can't think on what it is?
Well, I've got that right now.
And since I can't think of it, I'm not going to even try remembering. It'll come back to me later.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia
America's eyes flew wide and his mouth dropped open as Australia collapsed onto the floor. New Zealand was next to him in a split-second, and England walked over as well. Canada knelt down beside the downed nation, and many other nations gathered around to see what was going on.
"Hey…wh-what's wrong with him?" America asked, stuttering slightly. It's not every day your friend runs into a meeting looking like hell, only to collapse a couple minutes later.
"He's sick!" New Zealand snapped, angry that Australia had escaped his bed and gone outside, even though he was ill and knew it himself.
"Sick? Why?" America asked.
Canada glanced at his brother. "He fell into the river. His choice of clothing didn't help him, either. He was sleeping, so I went to the bathroom. When I came out, he was gone." The Canadian told New Zealand and England.
England shook his head and sighed. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it. Let's just get him back to the hotel room. Canada, can you help carry him?"
"Sure." Canada replied softly, standing up.
"I'll help!" America piped up.
"No." England rejected sternly.
"Why not?"
"You'll make it worse."
America pouted. "Meanie!" Then he brightened up. "Anyway, I'm strong, so I can easily carry him on my own! No offense and all bro, but Canada's a weakling."
"Hey!" Canada shouted, although his voice came out as little over a whisper. "I'm still coming, but I have to agree with America here."
"Fine!" England gave in, but pointed a threatening finger at the American. "But don't start being rough with him."
"When have I ever been rough?"
The Brit raised an eyebrow. "You slapped his back as a way of greeting him."
"Will you quit arguing and just help me out here!" New Zealand snapped. The usually calm sheep-loving nation was mad. He was mad at Australia for sneaking out when he was ill. He was mad at Canada for not realising what the Australian was up to. He was mad at England and America for arguing in a situation like this.
New Zealand's hands unconsciously trailed down Australia's chest, but when they brushed over the centre of his chest, he winced and jerked away from the touch. Frowning, the Kiwi pushed two fingers down on the same area, and earned a small yelp from Australia.
"Something's not right…" He murmured under his breath. There was something on his chest. Luckily, Australia's shirt was a button-up, so he undid the first four buttons and pulled the shirt apart.
He gasped at the sight.
Stretching across Australia's chest was a gaping gash. It was at least 8 inches (about 20cm), and jagged, and started from the top left, diagonally down to the bottom right. But that wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was that the skin was an angry red, and the wound was filled with yellowy pus. New Zealand instantly knew what it was.
"Infection…" He whispered, grimacing at the sight. He must have got it from when he fell in the river. When the ice cracked, some of it must have caught his chest while he was falling. But then the shirt would be ripped. How did I not notice it?
But then the Kiwi nation remembered when he'd first rescued Australia from the icy clutches of the Thames. His shirt had been sticking to him, but the item of clothing had already been a scarlet colour, so naturally if there had been any blood, then it would be easily lost amongst the redness of the shirt.
And not only did ice-cold water enter the open wound, but the river isn't exactly the cleanest one, so all the dirty water got in. How could I not notice it?! He asked himself again, although this time more angrily.
After further inspection, New Zealand came to the conclusion that the wound was indeed infected and also needed stitches. It should have been treated within 8 hours, but instead it's just got worse. Because of my obliviousness. Dammit, I took his shirt off, how am I this blind?!
Taking a deep breath through his nose, the Kiwi buttoned Australia's shirt back up. He'd realised that England and America were still bickering, not arguing about 'America's ridiculous intake of burgers' or something.
Standing up, New Zealand raised his voice to a volume that was just a bit quieter than Germany's, and yelled, "SHUT UP!"
The entire meeting room fell silent, most nations staring in amazement at the loudness of the normally quiet Kiwi.
New Zealand waved his hand in Australia's direction. "Australia's really sick and you're standing around bickering!" He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. Now he knew how Germany felt when the meeting fell into total chaos. "Listen. He's got an infected cut that needs stitches. And a cold on top of that."
England's caterpillars (*cough cough* eyebrows *cough cough*) rose up his forehead at this news. "He needs stitches? This is bad."
"You don't think I know that?" New Zealand replied coldly, before sighing. "I-I don't know what to do. Should we call an ambulance? Or just go to the nearest A&E?"
England hummed thoughtfully. "Well, unless we can carry him to the hospital, I suggest we call an ambulance. After all, he's not even conscious."
"What's that gotta do with anything?" America asked, frowning at the last sentence.
England's eyebrow twitched. "It's 'got to', not 'gotta'. Stop butchering my language." Then he cleared his throat, and continued, "And since he's unconscious, it'll be dead weight and it will also be hard to carry him."
New Zealand pulled out his phone and dialled 999*, calling for an ambulance and gave the location.
Now all they had to was wait for it to come. And that was no easy task, as the nations weren't all known for their patience.
Luckily, the ambulance only took fifteen minutes to arrive (blame the ice on the roads), and Australia was soon loaded up.
One of the paramedics glanced at the four nations who stood expectantly in front of her.
"Er…what can I do for you?" She asked cautiously.
"Well, for starters-" England began but was cut off by America.
"Dude! You have got to let me ride the Screaming Vroom-Vroom!" He was about five inches away from the paramedic's face, with stars in his eyes, as if the ambulance was an exciting experience for him.
Canada sighed. "America, it's not for you."
"And," England yanked America away from the paramedic by the back of his jacket collar, "what is a 'Screaming Vroom-Vroom'?"
America pointed at the ambulance with an expression that made it seem like it was the simplest thing in the world to work out. "Duh. It's the 'am-bu-lance'. It's such a pain to say it, and it sounds so uncool, you know? But 'Screaming Vroom-Vroom' sounds awesome!"
Canada asked softly, "But that name makes it sound like it's going to kill you."
America frowned. "No way, dude. It sounds awesome." He made a 'hmph' noise and turned away from the Canadian, muttering something under his breath.
"America, tell me why you chose that name to refer to an ambulance." England demanded.
"Okay, so, the 'screaming' part of it is because of the sirens, you know? They go like 'NEE-NAW, NEE-NAW, NEE-"
"Alright, alright, we get it! Stop screaming!"
"Fine. And the 'Vroom-Vroom' part is something you call a racing car, and ambulances go so freaking fast, you know?" The American puffed out his chest. "So there you go. I have a gift for naming things."
"Sure. Right, we better get going." England turned to the ambulance – or rather, where the ambulance used to be.
Turns out, while America was explaining, New Zealand had found out that they could only allow one of the nations on, so the Kiwi had decided he would be that one person. Then the ambulance had driven away, with none of the remaining three realising.
Grumbling, England went to his car and got in the driver's seat, beckoning for Canada and America to get in. The American went for the passenger side, but England frantically shooed him off.
"No way are you getting in the passenger seat of my car! Get in the back!" The Brit ordered.
"That's so unfair! And what about Canada?" America whined.
"Canada can go in the front."
"What?! Dude, that's so unfair!"
"Life is unfair. Suck it up and get in the back."
America got in the back, and Canada climbed into the front.
~At the hospital~
New Zealand sat impatiently in the waiting room, tapping his foot. As soon as they'd arrived, Australia was wheeled off, and the Kiwi was told to wait in the waiting room. And it was boring.
But his boredom was cured when England, America and Canada walked in. England looked like he was going to kill someone, America looked like he wanted to laugh but was too scared to, and Canada was just…there.
New Zealand raised an eyebrow at the trio. "Took you long enough. You know we arrived about half an hour ago, right?"
England growled deep in his throat and America shrank back a bit. Canada went to sit next to New Zealand, but the other two didn't make a move to sit down yet.
"Well, I was driving on a road near the Thames, and for some reason, a squirrel jumped across the road. Shouldn't they be hibernating or something? Anyway, America here decided that he was going to imitate someone from a movie."
"Oh? And who was that?"
"This dog called 'Dug' from the movie 'Up'. He yelled 'SQUIRREL' at the top of his voice, leapt forward, grabbed the driver's wheel and swerved away from the squirrel. We were heading straight for the river, until I was able to get control of my car and slam the brakes on. But the front of my car collided with a random lamppost, and the engine's now bust. So we had to walk the rest of the way."
"And it was freezing. Seriously, can't you get Air Heaters or something?" America commented.
"'Air Heaters'? You know what, I don't want to get drawn into another stupid conversation with you." England went to sit down on the other side of New Zealand, and America sat down in the chair next to Canada.
The next hour was spent in silence, except for a few small conversations that popped up every now and again.
Suddenly, New Zealand turned to England. "Can I ask you something?"
England glanced at him. "What?"
New Zealand turned his head back to face the wall opposite, but not really looking at it. "That wound on Australia's chest should have at least started healing, but it didn't look like that at all. Why's that?"
England sighed and copied the Kiwi, not really looking at the wall either. "If the body is still recovering from internal damage, then any external damage received will heal slower than normal. Colds and other illnesses class as internal damage as the body is weaker. Therefore, the flesh wound on Australia' chest will heal slower because of his cold."
New Zealand was silent for a minute, before whistling and remarking, "Wow. I didn't think you could say something so smart."
England spluttered. "What's that supposed to mean?!"
New Zealand smirked. "You don't really see like the 'smart' type."
England pointed at America. "Well if I'm not smart, then he must be a bloody brick wall!"
"Hey! Don't drag me into your argument!" America shot at the Brit.
"I'm not 'dragging you' into anything. I'm just stating a well-known fact."
"I'm not stupid!"
"You bloody well are!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"You two sound like little kids!" New Zealand butted in.
"You're the youngest here!"
"And the shortest!"
"Hey! Don't bring my height into this!"
"Don't you think you're all being too loud?" Canada asked softly, and was ignored.
"I can bring whatever I want into this argument!"
"Well so can I! You crazy, tea-loving idiot!"
"How am I crazy?!"
"You have imaginary friends." New Zealand stated with a deadpan expression.
America laughed. "Ha! The Sheep got you there!"
"The term is 'Kiwi', not 'Sheep', you twit." New Zealand grumbled.
A nurse walked up to the four nations, interrupting their argument. "Excuse me, are you here to see Mr…Australia…?"
"Yeah, we are." Canada replied, standing up. "Can we see him?"
The nurse nodded. "Sure. He's sleeping at the moment, but he should wake up soon. He doesn't seem to like being under anaesthetic." She chuckled to herself, before beckoning them to follow her.
When they were halfway down the corridor, the nurse turned to the nations. "Excuse me, if you don't mind me asking, why is the patient named 'Australia'. You know, as in the country?"
"Well nooooo, I thought you meant as in the perfume company." New Zealand replied sarcastically. "Australia: Coming to your bedroom."
"Bedroom?!" America stared at the Kiwi, alarmed. "Wh-whaddya mean?"
"Not proper English~" England said in a sing-song voice.
New Zealand smirked. "As in they use a special chemical in the perfume. Ghosts are attracted to it so when you put the perfume on, the scent clings to your skin. Then the ghosts come at night to your bedroom and-"
He was interrupted by Canada, who covered his mouth with his hand. "I think that's enough, eh? It looks like America's about to make a mess on the floor."
Sure enough, America was trembling, eyes wide and it indeed looked like he was going to wet himself and make a mess on the floor.
"Excuse me, but may I ask how this is in any way relevant to my question?" The nurse asked, drawing their attention away from the terrified American.
"It's not." England replied, shooting a glare at the other three. "And in response to your question, he carries a big secret."
The nurse's interest was piqued, as was the other nations'.
"It's one that he's only ever told me about."
The nations frowned. What was he on about?
England took a deep breath.
By this point, everyone had stopped walking and were staring at the Brit.
"He…" England started.
"He…?" Everyone took one step closer.
"…His parents…"
"Huh?" They all took one more step.
"His parents had terrible naming abilities."
Everyone fell over.
"But you were his parent!"
"Yeah! You just admitted to having terrible naming abilities!"
"Wait; you're that man's parent? But he's-and you're-and the age- you're so old!" The nurse exclaimed.
England spluttered. "Old? Old?! I am not bloody old! I'm in a prime age, if you must know!"
America scoffed. "Prime age my ass."
"Yeah." New Zealand agreed. "You probably hide your wrinkles in make-up."
"I don't wear make-up!"
"Not to mention you dye your hair to hide the grey hairs."
"I do not use hair dye!"
"Don't deny it, gramps."
"I raised you all! Show a little respect!"
"You raised them?! You're super old!" The nurse's eyes widened.
"I take offense at that!"
"Pity…I was starting to like you." The nurse muttered, blushing a bit.
In a split second, America and New Zealand spawned masks out of thin air and put them on, before grabbing the nurse's arms.
"Quick, get her to the basement! She's cursed!"
"Gotcha! This illness is fatal if left untreated!"
"Who's got the chalk?! We need to draw the ritual circle!"
"I've got it- don't worry! We will save this woman!"
"From what?!" England yelled angrily.
America and New Zealand looked at him like he was stupid.
"The I-Like-Creepy-Old-Guys-*cough-cough*-England-*cough-cough* Virus. The source of this illness is you. Duh." They said in perfect unison.
England clenched his fists. "Why you – I'm going to kill you! New Zealand, you're as bad as Australia!"
New Zealand shrugged, taking off the mask and smirking. "Well, when he's not here, someone has to fill in the space of Oceanian Idiot. Might as well be me."
America laughed. "Yeah, lil' dude can really loosen up at times!" Then he glanced at England. "You know; you could learn from him."
"Like hell I will!"
"Um, guys, shouldn't we be heading to Australia's room?" Canada asked; and actually wasn't ignored.
"Yes, that would be best. After all, we're disturbing other patients." The nurse agreed, before starting to walk down the corridor.
The rest of the journey was spent in silence, until they reached the Australian's room.
New Zealand immediately walked in, followed shortly by the other three.
There, on the bed, sat Australia, leaning awkwardly against the pillow as he smiled at them.
The Kiwi ran over to him and embraced in a hug, careful to avoid his stitches.
The nurse walked in after them, smiling softly. "He had an infected wound requiring stitches and a cold. We've cleaned the wound and stitched it up, but he'll have to take it easy the next few days. And the cold should go by tomorrow or the day after." She informed them.
"I'm just glad you're alright." New Zealand murmured quietly.
"What was that?" Australia asked.
"Nothing." He replied a little too quickly.
"Now you're on the mend, it's Lecture Time." England grinned like a maniac, slowly (and creepily) approaching the bed.
Shrieking like a cat who'd just had its tail stood on, Australia nearly fell out of bed. "AHHH! IT'S THE WALKING DEATH!"
"It's 'The Walking Dead', actually." New Zealand corrected.
Australia looked at him. "That's about zombies, though. The Walking Death it basically Death in human form, walking around killing people with," he shuddered, "words."
"Excuse me, I do not kill anyone! Especially not with words. How can you even kill someone with words?" England defended.
Australia smirked. "With a Dictionary, of course."
England glared darkly at him. "Right, that's another lecture about 'talking back to your superiors'. Oh, and 'trying – and failing – to be clever'. So two extra lectures."
Australia started crying, and asked, "Does anyone have a pen and paper? I'd like to write my will before it's too late."
"Sorry, I don't. But hey, you could always write it out with your blood." New Zealand suggested.
"How would he use blood?" England frowned, both confused and angry.
"Because my ears would bleed."
"Why you-"
"Oh, and I heard your conversation on your way here. It was kind of hard not to, actually." Australia smirked and added, "Old man."
England's face went bright red, but whether it was from anger or embarrassment, no-one could tell.
And so, the rest of the day was spent with England lecturing not only Australia, but New Zealand and America as well, and both the nurse and Canada sitting in chairs, watching in amusement at the scene before their eyes.
New Zealand only partly paid attention to England's lectures (they were boring after all), and thought, well, after all we've been through, we came out alright. Once Australia's cold goes, the wound will heal quickly, but will probably leave a scar. Also, I'll never let him forget all this.
The Kiwi gazed out the window. But I can't wait until I get home. I'm sure Australia feels the same, too.
"-And whenever you see a squirrel, do not, I repeat, do not, start screaming and nearly end up killing everyone. Got it? Good. Also, when in serious situations, don't distract anyone with your ridiculous-" England was cut off by New Zealand.
"Hey, Australia?"
"Yeah?"
"Hey! I'm talking here!"
"I'm just gonna tell you this now, okay?"
"What?"
"'Gonna' is not proper English!"
"I'm gonna be monitoring what you pack when we go to world meetings, got it?"
"That's so unfair!"
"You're so like America, it's painful."
"Tough. I'm not being put in another situation like this."
"Ugh, fine. Seriously, you're so unfair at times."
"If America had a twin exactly like him, I think I might just have a heart attack."
Everyone fell silent and looked at England, who had been ignored up until then.
They all looked like they had a master plan, and were grinning like maniacs, their eyes shining evilly.
That was when England realised what he'd said.
"Someone get the cloning machine!"
"Come on, we're leaving!"
"Operation Death by Heart Attack is in progress!"
"Don't you dare leave this room Australia!" England yelled in a threatening tone.
Australia dramatically laid down on the floor, and said weakly, "Go. Leave me…it's too late…to save…me…" And with that, he 'died'.
America clenched his fist and raised it. "Don't worry, my friend! We will avenge you!"
"Is this seriously what I have to put up with?" England asked himself.
"We will bring down the heartless enemy! Then your spirit can rest in peace!" New Zealand exclaimed.
"Not you too?!"
"Don't forget; if Operation Death by Heart Attack Plan A doesn't work, we have Plan B." America rubbed his hands together evilly.
"Plan B? It appears I have forgotten." New Zealand replied.
"I'm seriously regretting my life choices right now."
"Heh heh. Plan B. Find a Death Note and write the enemy's name in it."
"That's a flawless back-up plan." New Zealand commented.
"It's the wrong show!" England exclaimed.
The nurse laughed at the situation, as did Canada.
"Well, I'd love to stay and watch what happens, but I'm still at work, unfortunately. I'll see you around." She waved goodbye and left.
"I've just called a guy; he's preparing to deliver the cloning machine." America informed.
"There's a guy for that?!" England's jaw nearly hit the floor.
America frowned at him as if he'd said the stupidest thing in the world. "There's a guy for everything. Wait; why am I communicating with the enemy?! It's going to use its foul language to curse me!"
"What foul language are you on about, you git?!"
And so, the night was spent with England arguing with America and New Zealand, who were planning to kill him, Australia who was by now fast asleep on the floor, and Canada, sitting quietly and watching everything with amusement.
A/N: THE END!
I know, I know, stupid ending and everything, but oh well.
* = 999 is the number for emergency numbers. I'm British, so I decided to use it, and since they're in England, I might as well use it. There. Two reasons. I win.
I had to make the Death Note reference. I just had to.
I can't think of anything else to say, except MY GOD THIS CHAPTER IS SO FREAKIN LONG!
Bye~