10- Netherlands x Injured!Reader

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(A/N: Sorry about all the hetalia x reader ones. I have one more after this ;-; Also, this is lITERAL TRASH SO DON'T READ IF you don't want to read something trashy~)

You lay on the ground, unconscious, and surrounded by a small puddle of blood. How you got there, you didn't remember. How long you had been there, you didn't know. Your breathing was shallow, but you were still alive.

Netherlands was talking a walk with his sister Belgium one day. Belgium had forced him to go, as he would never have gone if he had a choice. They were walking along the border between his land and Germany's when they saw you. A (H/C) haired girl laid face down on the ground, surrounded by a small puddle of blood. Belgium let out a small yelp, but Netherlands stayed calm as he approached you. He kneeled down by your body, careful not to get any blood on his pants. He placed a gloved hand on your back, feeling for a rise. There was a faint one.

"She's breathing," he stated plainly, shaking invisible dirt off his glove.

"What are we gonna do with her?" Belgium asked. He shrugged his shoulders, and started to walk away.

"We can't just leave her here, she'll die!" She yelled, placing her hands on her hips. Netherlands glanced back at her, turned around, and stalked back to your body.

"Idioot," he muttered under his breath as he lifted your body up bridal style. "Fine, we'll take her in, but only until she is healed. That is all."

---

Netherlands entered his small home followed by Belgium. He laid a blanket on the couch, and then set you gently on top of that. He then grabbed a first-aid kit, and began to tend to your wounds. Netherlands attempted to lift up yours shirt a little, but it was stuck to your body with dried blood. He sighed, and grabbed scissors to cut it off. He pulled the shirt back to reveal a long gash from your navel up to the bottom of your rib-cage. Dried blood had crusted around the wound. He wrinkled his nose, and then shook his head. Taking a damp towel, he began to wipe away the blood.

After he had finished treating your wound, he left you to sleep. Your breathing had returned to normal, so he took it that you were already doing better. He carried you upstairs to the guest room, and set you in bed.

"Goddorie," he sighed, thinking about the mess that he would have to clean up, and left, closing the door behind him.

---

When you woke up in a completely different place, you were definitely surprised. You sat up in the bed, wincing in pain. You glanced down at the bed sheets, which were red, white, and blue (in that order), which formed the Dutch flag. You glanced around the room. It was as small room, and it seemed to be very well organized. Whoever lived here must have been a neat freak. There wasn't a thing out of place. You swung your feet over the bed, planting them on the floor. When you tried to stand, a sharp pain shot through your abdomen, causing you to fall. You crashed to the ground with a loud thud and another sharp pain.

Quiet footsteps sounded outside the door, and then it swung open, revealing a man with messy, gravity-defying blonde hair and piercing green eyes. His face was almost expressionless, except for maybe a little concern masked by his rigid features.

"Who are you?" you coughed, clutching at your stomach, a pained mien playing on your face.

"I could say the same thing for you," he murmured, giving you a neutral glance before helping you up off the floor.

"Where am I? How'd I get here?"

"You're in my house. My sister and I brought you here when we found you unconscious and bleeding on the border of my land and Germany's," he spoke calmly, despite the uninterested look on his face.

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