Needy Child

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, nor do I get any profit from writing this. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, the drawing at the top of the chapter is from momor9 (momomor9.tumblr.com)

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Chapter Two

Dying wasn't like Canada had expected. Not at all.

He had thought that his consciousness would fade slowly, peacefully, instead he felt something grab his tunic, yanking him, and a moment later his body was enveloped by a strong arm and pressed against a lean chest.

How odd. He had always imagined it to be gentler, the arm was clutching him too tightly, just shy of being painful. Not to mention the fact that it seemed to be moving upwards.

There was definitely something amiss there. Part of Canada wanted to open his eyes to check what was happening, he wasn't even sure he was dying anymore, but his lids were like lead, his body limp in the other's hold, and his oxygen-deprived mind was too sluggish to process anything.

Suddenly, he felt his head break the water's surface. The cold air stung against his cheeks, along with an icy hand.

Canada found himself coughing, gasping big gulps of air that hit his deprived lungs like daggers. He couldn't understand what was happening, his chest and throat ached fiercely, protesting against the cold air, the waves still hit his body and face, but the arm kept him firmly above the surface. He could have sworn that somebody was talking, but couldn't make out any word above the loud ringing in his ears, and he was too weak to open his eyes.

The person holding him suddenly stopped swimming, and Canada's body was hauled over the river's edge only to collapse on the mercifully unmoving soil.

Canada curled into a ball, coughing and shivering. He knew that he needed air, but his lungs were filled with water, he couldn't stop coughing, everything was spinning and ringing around him...

A strong arm slid under his chest and lifted him, immediately followed by a hand hitting him between his shoulder blades.

Canada gasped at the sudden pain, but he was too weak to struggle. Besides, he dimly realized that the hand was actually helping him: he was retching and coughing, pain flaring up in his chest, but his lungs were starting to empty.

After what seemed centuries, Canada could breathe again, the big gulps of air that finally filled his lungs tasted sweeter than maple syrup.

The ringing in his ears started receding, letting the child make out the voice that had been present at the corners of his auditory perception since he had been rescued.

"Mattie, Mattie, please answer me! Can you breathe? Can you hear me?"

He nodded shakily, his eyes still tightly shut, and the arm holding him relaxed slightly.

The hand stopped hitting him, and the child was turned over, both of his brother's hand holding his shoulders, the fingers digging into his flesh in a way Canada was sure would leave bruises.

A few small coughs bubbled up his throat as he tried to regularize his breaths, but he finally managed to gain control of himself. His chest and throat were burning fiercely, and his body was shaken by strong tremors, but at least he could breathe again.

Canada blinked his eyes open and found himself staring at America's face.

The older boy was completely drenched, his hair stuck to his head, water dripping in his widened eyes. He was shaking slightly, panting.