Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 8

He struggled against the straps. He still wore the rags they called clothes, so they weren't going to dissect him again. They were going to do something else. Something that required that he didn't move his head.

They came in, and he was with them. He tried to channel as much anger into his gaze as possible. They had already gagged him for whatever it was that they were planning to do.

His anger turned to fear when one of his tormentors picked up a drill.

…

"Mal!" Singapore exclaimed, stroking Malaysia's face. "Calm down. It's alright. You're safe. It's just a dream."

Things had been going so well. It had been hours since France and the others had drawn their blood, and Malaysia had spent most of the time sleeping, and had seemed to be doing better. But a few minutes ago, he had started to cry and writhe in his sleep. To make matters worse, his temperature had spiked again.

Malaysia finally opened his eyes, and those eyes were blank for a long time. Singapore leaned back, and Malaysia pushed his way out of the bed and ran towards the bathroom. Retches were heard again, and these sounded particularly painful.

Singapore rushed after Malaysia, and he froze when he saw Malaysia as he vomited. He was mostly dry-heaving, but when liquid finally came out, it was most definitely blood. Malaysia trembled and started crying, and Singapore came closer to help Malaysia.

"I hate this!" Malaysia sobbed. "I hate this!"

"I know," Singapore said. He helped Malaysia wipe the blood away, before he flushed. He then guided Malaysia towards the sink, where Malaysia brushed his teeth. "Did you have another nightmare?"

Malaysia paused, before he lowered his head. Singapore's throat tightened.

"Mal… What can you tell me about those nightmares?" Singapore asked.

Malaysia spat out the toothpaste and rinsed out his mouth. Singapore didn't ask again, but waited. He knew that Malaysia had heard him, but his reaction scared him a little. Malaysia would either ignore him, or he was trying to think of what to say.

Finally, he closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I'm starting to remember," Malaysia whispered. "There are… gaps in my memory, but I'm starting to remember. And it scares me."

"Mal…" Singapore said. He pulled his brother closer, and Malaysia clung to his shirt. "What happened to you?"

Malaysia sniffed and his grip tightened.

"That dream I had now…" Malaysia whispered. "It was… I-I think it was when they did a lobotomy."

Singapore's blood ran cold with that word. A lobotomy… brain damage. France had said that there was a chance that he had suffered from brain damage, and that it might have had an effect on his personality.

"Why would they do it?" Singapore asked.

"They wanted to know… How long a nation would take to recover from things that could kill humans," Malaysia said. "Smallpox, cholera, tuberculosis…"

"But humans can recover from those. Was this during World War Two?"

"…I can't remember. Maybe?"

Malaysia still had holes in his memory, so there was a possibility that it didn't involve Japan at all. It could have happened at some point afterwards. But then, why would they let Malaysia go, if that were the case?

Malaysia groaned and doubled over. Singapore was immediately alert.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It hurts," Malaysia muttered. "My stomach, my chest…"

Singapore could understand why Malaysia's stomach would hurt, after what just happened, but his chest? He carefully pulled away Malaysia's hands and stared at the fingers.

"You're swelling," he said.

Malaysia frowned, and Singapore pressed his hand against Malaysia's forehead again. His temperature had gone up.

Thailand burst into the bathroom, his phone clutched in his hand. He looked a little pale.

"France just called," Thailand said. "He said that we need to take Mal to them immediately."

"Why?" Singapore asked. "Do they need more tests or something?"

"Apparently. They managed to use one of Mal's samples to do a kidney function test, and… um… it's not working. They want to do some scans."

"W-what's wrong with me?" Malaysia asked.

Thailand winced.

"France said that this virus causes total organ failure," he said. "And there's reason to think that at least one of Mal's organs had already gone through that."

Singapore felt himself growing pale, and when he looked over towards Malaysia, he saw that his brother had definitely gone paler, though he wasn't sure if it was because of how he felt or because of what Thailand said.

"Come on," Singapore said. "Let's go."

They left the hotel room, with Philippines and Indonesia joining them as well. While their errand was urgent, they couldn't move too quickly, because Malaysia wasn't able to keep up with them.

"New plan," Indonesia said, after the third time that Malaysia leaned against the wall until his world stopped spinning. "I'll carry you. You're obviously not able to walk there yourself."

Malaysia could only nod. He looked even paler than before. Indonesia gently picked him up, and as soon as Malaysia was secure, he started jogging to the elevator, with the others following after him. They took the chance to catch their breath in the elevator, and Singapore looked over towards Malaysia. He was starting to grow paler than Prussia's hair, and that didn't bode well, and other than being pale, there was something worrying about Malaysia's skin tone. He hoped that it was just a psychological thing after hearing that there was a chance his organs were failing. Because the alternative was that the failed organs were killing him.

As soon as the elevator opened, they rushed off again, with Thailand taking the lead. Singapore hoped that Thailand knew where they were going, because Singapore didn't have a clue. They finally entered a conference room – different from the one they'd used the previous day – and Singapore froze as he saw the place. It had been converted to a hospital lab, with a bed in the corner and equipment that Singapore would never be able to identify. Turkey came over and gently took Malaysia from Indonesia before he placed him on the bed.

"It never rains…" Germany muttered. Singapore jumped. He hadn't realised that Germany was also there. "Did you notice anything new about Malaysia's condition?"

"He was vomiting blood," Singapore said. "It wasn't the same as last time. This was… It came in globs."

"Last time?"

Singapore blinked. He wondered if France and the others had informed Germany of that particular episode. Turkey was examining Malaysia, while France and Switzerland were readying equipment.

"Jaundice," Turkey announced after a while.

"What does that mean?" Singapore asked.

"It's a sign of possible liver failure. He doesn't have cyanosis yet, so his heart and lungs seem to be okay for now."

Singapore didn't fail to notice Turkey's choice of words. It implied that he expected for that to still happen, and that didn't bode well.

"W-what would it mean if Mal has total organ failure?" Philippines asked. "I mean, we're nations. I-it's not like it would kill him."

"Not permanently," Germany said. "But if the cause of the total organ failure isn't dealt with – if Malaysia's body doesn't flush it out of his system – then there's a possibility that he could end up in a coma. And a nation in a coma… Long enough, and the country would move on without him. And he will die then, and there's no return."

Singapore's knees buckled, and if not for Thailand and Philippines grabbing him, he would have crashed to the floor. He stared at Malaysia on the hospital bed. He wasn't responding to whatever Turkey was doing at the moment. Was he asleep? Was he unconscious?

…Did he die?

The previous morning, Singapore had snapped at Malaysia for just wanting to greet him. He'd felt annoyed by Malaysia in the meeting, for being distracting. He hated himself for thinking that Malaysia had been irresponsible enough to get a hangover on the first day of a world meeting. If he'd known what would have happened…

"I think you should take Singapore back to your room," Germany said. "Get him something to…"

"No," Singapore said, shaking his head. "I-I want to stay. I need to stay."

"There's nothing you can do now, and you might just get in the way."

Tears brimmed in Singapore's eyes. Germany sighed, before he placed his hand on Singapore's shoulder.

"I know what you're going through," Germany said. "Believe me. I understand, having a brother whose immortality is in danger. But you need to take care of yourself as well. And right now, you're in shock, and there's a good chance you're going to pass out, and then there will be two patients, and these three have barely slept since this all started, and I don't want to put them under even more strain than they already are. So, help them help Malaysia, alright? Even if it means you go back to your room, get something in your stomach, and take a nap."

Singapore took a deep breath, before he nodded. Germany made sense. He didn't like it, but he didn't want to be a burden to the nations trying to help Malaysia. He turned to France and Switzerland, who were watching while Turkey continued to examine Malaysia, and he bowed.

"Sorry," he said. "I appreciate everything you're doing to help my brother."

Switzerland and France nodded. France turned back towards one of the machines and gestured in its direction.

"Your blood is clean," he said. "None of you have the virus. We're trying to figure out the method of transmission, but there are so many possibilities…"

"So, are you saying that this thing isn't contagious?" Germany asked.

"Not by presence alone," Switzerland said. "I took a saliva sample. While the pathogen is present, it's very small, and it doesn't take hold. I also realised that it doesn't survive long in the saliva. It needs another way to be transmitted."

"What about blood?"

"That wouldn't make sense either," France said. "How would Malaysia have gotten access to that?"

"Didn't you say that they were testing the food and water supplies?" Thailand asked.

"We haven't gotten anything new yet," Switzerland said. "They're spread thin too. Natives of Kuala Lumpur are also affected, and are quarantined. They need more people from outside."

"How many people have died so far?" Germany asked.

Philippines checked his phone, before he sighed.

"It hasn't been updated in a few hours," he said. "But it was four hundred three hours ago. And this article said that at least ten doctors are already dead. And they have no idea how many people had died at home."

"It always pours," Germany sighed. "Does the pathogen really move this fast?"

"There's also another possibility," France said. "They might have already been infected for a while. Days, maybe even weeks. But for a virus to act like this… It's unnatural."

Germany glanced over towards Singapore and the others.

"I think you should go back to your room now," he said. "Get some desserts from room service."

Singapore recognised when he was being dismissed. And he knew that he needed to go. While it stung that they wanted to discuss his brother without him present, he knew that he was only getting more and more upset. Perhaps, for the sake of his sanity, he would do as they said.

"Let us know if… If Mal gets even worse," Singapore said.

He hated the thought that there could be something worse, but that seemed to be the case. Things just got worse and worse. He didn't know how much of that any of them could take.

He allowed the others to guide him towards their room. He knew that Germany told him to take a nap, but he didn't think that he would be able to. He felt exhausted, but at the same time, he had too much concern and tension. He wouldn't be able to relax until he was sure that Malaysia would improve. But so far, that didn't seem to be the case.

When they arrived on their floor, he saw someone coming from the opposite direction. Singapore came to a sudden stop as he saw the other person. The realisation he'd reached, combined with Malaysia's admission and the remaining mysteries made him clench his fists. He was useless when it came to helping his brother, but he could still control some part. And perhaps he could help Malaysia.

Singapore started running, ignoring the alarmed cries from the others. He needed to know…

"Oh, Singapore," Japan said when he noticed him. "I was just about to…"

"I need to know something," Singapore said as he came to a stop in front of Japan. "During World War Two… Do you know if your people experimented on Malaysia or not?"

Japan was silent for a long moment, and his silence didn't help Singapore's nerves. Finally, Japan closed his eyes and sighed.

"What brought this on?" he asked.

"Mal's been having PTSD episodes," Singapore said. "I need to know…"

"…Yes. I found out near the end of the war. I thought he was at a POW camp or something, but they specifically transferred him to a lab that was far from both of our countries. But my people were responsible. I took care of Malaysia after rescuing him, but I lost the war, and I needed to return him. I wish I could have done more."

Singapore's blood ran cold. He didn't really know what he expected, but it certainly wasn't a confirmation like that. He swallowed and glared at Japan.

"Why didn't you say something before?" Singapore asked.

"I-I had a lot on my plate, what with two nuclear bombs and everything," Japan said. "I'm sorry that it slipped my mind."

"Where was he? Do you know? Where did they take him?"

Japan closed his eyes, as though the answer pained him.

"Unit 731," he replied at last.

Singapore's blood went even colder, and he stopped breathing. He finally shook himself out of his stupor, but that caused even more questions to flood through his mind, and he suspected that he wouldn't want to know any of those answers. He swallowed and took a shaky breath.

"H-how long was he there?" he asked. It was the only question that he felt was safe enough.

"I honestly can't say," Japan said. "But anyway, I wanted to ask you how Malaysia is doing. Um, asides from the PTSD. I went to your room, but you weren't there."

"Yeah… France and the others called us. They took a few more samples this morning, and saw that Mal's organs are failing. So far, it looks like the kidneys and liver aren't working."

"Organ failure?" Japan asked, his eyes widening. "That's worrisome. And on the second day, with a nation… How are his people doing?"

"Philippines says that there hasn't been an update for a few hours, so no clue. We know that Mal's Prime Minister is dead. He's going to need a lot of help to recover from all of this."

"Yes, I can imagine. Not just physically, but politically as well, and there's no telling how many of his people are going to survive this epidemic. It's going to take a long time for him to recover."

Singapore's blood ran cold when he absorbed Japan's words and remembered what Germany had said earlier. If Malaysia didn't get this out of his system, then he could end up in a coma. And if he was in a coma with his country like that… His country would need to rework itself completely. And if the rework came with Malaysia in a coma…

Japan grabbed his arms to prevent him from falling to the ground. Japan frowned as he examined Singapore.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "Do you think you have Malaysia's fever?"

"I-I'm fine," Singapore said. His voice was soft, and almost a whisper. "I'm just… It's been a long day."

He looked over towards Indonesia and the others. They had come closer, but stayed to the side to allow some privacy as he spoke to Japan. Philippines came closer and threw Singapore's arm around his shoulder. He nodded his thanks. He needed the support.

"Sorry about that," Philippines said. "Germany gave us some bad news, and Singa's still absorbing it."

"Stop," Singapore said. "I don't… I don't want to talk about this right now."

In truth, he didn't want Japan to know about the possible coma and what that could mean. He didn't want anyone else to know about that quite yet. Especially after realising that Japan had kept quiet about what Malaysia had endured during World War Two. Even if he wasn't directly involved, he had still remained silent about something so important.

"Let's get you some sugar," Philippines said. "Come on."

Philippines started to guide Singapore away.

"I hope Malaysia feels better soon," Japan said.

…

The soldiers had brought him to this place. He wasn't in his own country, nor was he in the country of his captor. This wasn't even the country of one of his captor's allies. It was conquered territory.

The soldiers dragged him towards a group of people in white coats. But he didn't care about them. His eyes trailed towards the familiar face among them.

"I see our special subject has finally arrived," he said. "Did he give you any trouble?" The soldiers said something, but Malaysia didn't care. He glared at his enemy. "I see. Take him to room 62. I'm sure he'll regret everything he's done."

They dragged him away, and as long as he could, he continued to glare at Japan. The other nation turned away, not out of shame, but as though he didn't consider Malaysia to be worth a single second of his time. He didn't know what they were going to do to him, but he wanted Japan to remember his angry glare. He would not see a hint of fear from him.

Malaysia opened his eyes. He remembered. Japan was the one that ordered the experiments on him. Japan was the monster in his nightmares.