Hetalia Oneshots

Red Snow

Panda13216

The battle had taken place only a couple months ago, and Sweden himself was badly hurt. The men in green war suits were relentless to pain. Sweden was taking refuge behind a rock, holding his side where a bullet had just gone through. His neck had been grazed with a bullet hours before, and his arm ached from the crash he had on it when he was shot in the thigh. They were badly outnumbered, not to mention to ones they were fighting had many more allies.

Sweden knew he had lost after the first month. Now they were coming to finish him off as they had his two allies. Well attempted, Denmark was okay. Besides that, everything was falling apart. The Swedish army was falling and soon, he would be dead. He knew this.

One of the men in the green suits, his leader the supposed, emerged from the fog. He had a rifle strapped to his back, and his blond hair was slicked back. He pulled his rifle from his back and aimed it at Sweden. Sweden held his breath, prepared for the final blow.

"You know what?" The heavy accent greeted him. "I'd find it a good bit more satisfying if you died," He glanced to Sweden's side, "bleeding to death." He looked at the snow surrounding them. "Or froze to death. Either way, you die slowly. Auf Wiedersehen!" He pulled his gun to himself and shot Sweden in the leg, just to insure he was staying there.

So this was how he was going to die. Honestly he had never expected it to be this rough. He was either going to bleed to death or freeze to death. Neither seemed like a great option. Though he was a humble one, and of course he would accept his foreseen death.

The world was becoming fuzzy when he saw him. The brown eyes and blond hair, though that was about all he could see. He felt his body getting pulled up on a back of some sort, though he couldn't tell if it was a male or female.

He awoke in a small room. There was a bed, a window with drifting snow running down it, a drawer, and a small lamp on the corner. His foot was pressed up into a cast, and his body was wrapped in bandages. Getting up had never been so hard. He pulled his body up to rest against the back of the bed. There was nothing he could do now but wait. But for what?

There. The small footsteps in the door that led to a well lit hallway. Sweden's room was lit too, but by the dim lamp on the drawer. The figure he barely remembered stepped into the doorway. From what Sweden could see he was wearing a turquoise colored shirt, the matching color pants and had a coat draping over his arms. He had a white cap too, though it was positioned on top of his jacket. His hair was ruffled and damp, and his eyes were a dark brown.

"Oh!" His voice was high and happy, giving Sweden a feeling of comfort. "I'm glad you're up. I was getting worried." He grinned and set down his clothes on the edge of the bed.

Sweden glanced at his appearance. He was pretty short, and had boots on, coming up to about mid-calf. "I'm Finland. Though I'm not sure who you are?" Finland asked the question quite gently as if easing Sweden into giving him information.

Sweden gave a rough cough before he managed to answer. "Sweden." He noticed to blood trickling down his lips and onto his shirt, which he had suddenly realized wasn't the one he was wearing in battle.

Finland looked scared as he stared at the blood on his mouth. "Sorry." He took his thumb and ran it over the bottom of Sweden's lip, before shaking the blood off of his fingers. "I had one of my close friends change your clothes because they were covered in blood. She was female of course, don't worry." Sweden couldn't help but feel a friendly love for this figure. He pulled his shoulders up to his head and grinned.

Finland began to look at the edge of the bed. He seemed to be examining Sweden's broken foot. Sweden hadn't thought his foot was broken, though he knew it had been shot a couple times during the war. "I'm glad your doing better, you were out for three days." Finland took a interest to a spot of bruises a bit higher than the cast. "You lost a lot of blood there."