"Bul… run. Or… they'll get you too." Romania's usual bubbly and unfathomably happy personality was hidden by dim eyes and weak hands. He looked up at his friend.
"No! No Vlad, you're not going to give up now!" Bulgaria shouted, pressing his hands firmly against the wound in his friend's chest. Tears had built in the corner of his eyes, but he fought them back instantly. "You- you're not that weak." He knew that his friend wouldn't actually die- or at least he wouldn't stay dead- but it still hurt, to watch as his fellow countries own people staked him right through the heart.
"Hhaaa-!" Romania breathed a half laugh. "It's okay- I've… been through… worse."
"How could it get worse? Your own people are-!"
"You're with me this time… aren't you?"
Bulgaria felt the tears spill this time. He couldn't fathom what his friend had gone through, just because he looked a bit different. As a country, Bulgaria knew what a country personification went through for their people every day. He couldn't imagine what it would be like for his own people to try to kill him.
"Yes- I'm here. And I'll be here when you wake up."
But his friend's body was already cold.