Hetalia/2p Hetalia x dead reader

Kidnapped (3) End

The crate filled with gas, a sort of toxin, it was engulfing them. It felt like the air had tiny hands with thorns that would scratch at their eyes and throats.

"Fu- " a 2p said before losing consciousness .

Another 2p ,that was desperately grasping for what little oxygen there was, walked over to you. The walk became a limp and then a crawl. You weren't that far from him but it was enough distance to make him weary.

"Y/n " he said,desperate for an answer. Tears stung his eyes- which didn't make it any better because of the gas.

"I'm ... so... sorry" he said. His voice was hoarse now, it resembled a gargle of words.

The gas was closing in, and some of the 2ps were dropping like flies while others were falling as gently as snowflakes.

He looked at his friends and started crying.

"It's...all...my...fault"

He looked at you. Your body limp and lifeless. The words that wouldn't be heard by you ,but by a shell of you. His thoughts encircling on your time together. The little time you had. How it had all been taken for granted. The snacks, jokes, laughs, sorrows, secrets , and insecurities you shared could not be done with others.

He's eyes were dreary now. Like someone was pushing them down, but he refused. The sight of you and looking at you for his last moments was all he could think about. In his last seconds of life he mustered up what little energy he had left and desperately grabbed at your hand. He held it tight but not to a point where it would hurt (if you were still alive). It was cold and scarred like ice on a well used hockey rink.

The seconds were ticking faster then perceived. His tears were now dry but the sadness remained. He closed his eyes giving into the embrace of rest with you by his side.

BANG ! BANG ! WHOSH !

The doors opened. Oxygen filling the air. By this time the 2ps were very weak and mostly on conscience. About two dozen people who wore gas masks appeared. Half held guns with the shade of a polished black ceramic. Half held stretchers. The ones with stretchers were about a foot away, behind from the armed soldiers.

After a quick inspection of the crate the stretchers carried the people closest to the exit away and were replaced by another dozen of people with stretchers.

Some 2ps remained unconscious  in the whole event , however , some were (for what seemed) far from waking up.

...

A bed. A warm place.

Comfort. Need. Worry. Love?

His eyes hurt as they felt like weights. He opened them anyways, somewhat eager to get some information on past events. The front and back of his head felt like they were pounded against a wall several times but the air was crisp, cool, and refreshing for the most part. It was much different from the suffocating gases of the abandoned crate.

He awoke in an unfamiliar place but by what he could see, this place had a lot of money. He looked more around the room. To his left was a white door and some seats. He looked to his right and flower vase with (your favorite flower ) was beside him. This stuck a memory he didn't ask for and didn't want.

-Such a smile could be blown to bits in milliseconds and such happiness torn to shreds like tissue paper under a wild animal.-

Next to his left ,on the bed, was a call button. He pressed it causing a click sound. It was about 15 minutes until someone arrived. He still had the effect of sleepiness and depression from what he could remember so the nurse being late didn't bother him as much as it should have.