OBSCURED ♦COUNTRYHUMANS AU♦

Casual Confusion

[Canada 3rd Person]

"Yes, Italy?" Canada picked up his phone, clicking the button.

"Yeah, so we NEED YOU I CAN NOT ACT COOL RIGHT NOW, YOUR BROTHER JUST FUCKING PASSED OUT."

"WHAT? I WA —" His cheeks flushed as he realized his classmates were looking at him in confusion and concern. "Uh, excuse me, my brother is hurt." And he zoomed out of the classroom and slammed the door without any further judgment.

He rushed down the building in a hurry, a few people cursing and yelling and groaning as he side—stepped children and slipping papers and people as he nearly tripped, before finally exiting the building and putting on a burst of stamina, seeing the huge building tower in front of him.

He panted, opening the door with a loud SLAM! And ran up the stairs, not bothering to take the elevator, finally reaching the sign that said 450, and shouted, "WHERE THE FUCK IS MY BROTHER?" And then promptly surprising himself, because he rarely swore. He finally used his eyes and saw his slumped over, pale, bleeding brother, and basically went deranged.

Canada pushed all the watching countries away, resisting the urge to yell at them to do something. He picked up his brother, who felt concerningly lighter than usual, and ran out of the room, blinking away tears as he felt panic rise in his chest as his heart thumped, threatening to beat out of his chest.

He struggled downstairs, many of America's fellow colleagues looking at America with wide—eyed shock, but Canada didn't care. He put on a burst of speed and fumbled in his pockets for his phone, sitting on a sidewalk and calling his parents.

"Mum, Father! Whe — huff — I need you, please, please please. Ame passed out and is bleeding, and I'm scared, please come. I'm at — oh, yes! I'll meet you there." Canada babbled over the phone, panic nearly closing around his throat as he picked up his lifeless brother's body and heaved him over his shoulder.

Canada took a deep breath, struggling to blink back the tears forming again in his eyes.

My brother is literally indestructible, he'll be fine, right?

Oh please, God, please save my brother from the hell he could be in.

Please, please, please.

Canada ran, feeling the wind whip around his face as his auburn hair shimmered in the bright sunlight, so bright it hurt his eyes.

He ran to the shadowy towering house that he had used to live in, back when he was a kid.

Canada speed—walked around the house until he found a room with a beam of light coming out of the cracked door.

Oh, yeah. He turned to the wall of bookshelves, where there was a red-and-gold inlaid book spine, where America had scribbled "143" on a page, for his father to see.

Finally, Canada heard the front door open, and he sighed with hitched relief.

His parents ran in, grabbing America from Canada's arms and dialing 911.

Oh.

Canada looked outside hopefully. Sometimes his younger siblings would hang out in the backyard, and he hoped today would be one.

Score! He spotted New Zealand swinging her legs over the fence, laughing as Australia fell off, groaning.

He opened the slide door and waved at them to come in. He hated to show them such a burden, but they had to help their older brother, right?

"Canada? What are you doing here?" Australia asked.

"Just come." He waved them inside, leading them to America.

He could barely contain his worry as he held his breath, watching their expressions change almost immediately.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Time ticked by as everyone started shouting and yelling and arguing, and Canada dug his headphones out of his backpack he always carried.

"SHUT UP!" He yelled, and everyone whipped their heads towards him. "Arguing won't help America, or anyone. We should probably take him to a doctor. Now stop wasting time and help, please?"

"He's right," Their mother said. "Come on, I'll call, and you guys help carry him. He's pretty tall, so Canada, can you —?"

"Sure." Canada agreed, hoisting America up by his armpits and carrying him like he was a small child.

They tried to rush over as fast as they could, and Canada swung the door open to the doctor and paced frantically as the doctors took his brother.

"Canada, you're overreacting. America will be fine! Trust us." New Zealand piped up from behind him, "patting" him on the shoulder "reassuringly".

"You aren't helping." He muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples.

...

Canada shut his eyes, sweat trickling down his face as he waited in the waiting room.

It had been four hours and fifty—eight minutes since his brother fell.

His head ached as he clenched his teeth harder.

He wanted to do something. He loved his brother undeniably, and he was so scared.

So.

Very.

Scared.

"Honey?" His mother came from out of the main door leading to the cots and hospital rooms.

"Yes, mom?" He sighed, looking up at her.

"I'm sorry, the doctors are still running tests. We don't know what to do." She sighed, looking down at her feet.

Tears pooled in the corner of Canada's eyes. How could he not worry?

He covered his face with his hands.

He was helpless.

He couldn't do anything to help his brother, and now he was here. His shoulders shaking and his breath coming in short gasps as tears rolled down his face, unable to control them anymore. His mother grabbed him and hugged him, but..

He just felt useless.

He couldn't do anything.

Nothing.

Absolutely fucking nothing.

He looked at his pale hands, and his tears stopped.

He felt dead.

It had been five hours and one second since his brother fell.

Guys don't worry it's not gonna get better

Also, Midolah, I laugh at your theories as they are hilariously wrong! 

Yea I'm posting this chapter early cause school is shit🤬🤬

Istg I'm going to break my fingers writing 

I keep redrawing panels I hate my life