Definitely Memory Loss [10/?]
anonymous
February 27 2010, 22:21:39 UTC
Romano spent the better part of the next hour flipping through the channels on the TV in the corner of his room. So far, it had been working fairly well as a distraction technique.
“…In other news, the rain in Spain has been falling heavily everywhere for the past eighteen hours. Authorities are calling it a national emergency. We go now to our correspondent in Madrid…”
The injured nation carefully turned off the television, and carefully threw the remote in the direction of the spare bed. This was not his fault. So what if Spain was overly emotional? If he really was a whole country, he’d get over it.
When the door opened ten minutes later, Romano was still sulking. Germany tried to walk straight out of the room again, but was caught up in the momentum of the Italy rushing through the door behind him. A stranger followed sedately after the two, and a strangely quiet Spain brought up the rear of the party. At least he’d found some normal clothes somewhere.
“Ve, brother, how was your night? Did you get enough sleep?”
Romano carefully refrained from looking at Spain. “No.”
Germany cut off the rest of Veneziano’s questions with one of his own. “Do you still not remember who you are?”
“Yes.”
“Ve, then we’ve got a solution!” Veneziano skipped over to the man standing quietly next to the door. “Do you remember Japan? (”No.”) We called him last night because he’s really good at these sorts of things. Well, Germany did most of the talking, but he let me dial the number. Japan can help you and then we can all go back home!”
The man, no, the country bowed. “It is troubling to hear what has happened to you, Romano-san.”
There was silence. Was he supposed to be responding now?
Eventually, Germany cleared his throat, awkwardly, and spoke. Germany did not tolerate ambient awkwardness well, because of his already high inner levels of it. “Japan. Please start with… whatever it is that you’re going to do.” There. That hadn’t been so hard.
Japan nodded and moved closer to Romano’s bed. As the rest of the countries watched, he opened the drawer of the nightstand and removed two surgical gloves and a stethoscope. He put on the left glove, the right glove and then finally looped the stethoscope around his neck.
“Romano-san, could you please tell me about your childhood?”
“…I don’t remember anything before I woke up in this hospital. So no, I can’t.”
Japan nodded. “I see…”
There was silence again. Was that… really it?
“Germany-san, Veneziano-san, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.”
Spain stood up as the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. “But Japan, you haven’t even tried anything yet.” He looked morally affronted. “How can you give up now?”
Japan fiddled with the stethoscope around his neck, and bowed his head. “I am extremely sorry, Spain-san, but in my experience, this is the only way to proceed. Background research indicates that if the patient does not have childhood trauma to work from, then it is a matter of pre-existing love entanglements. It is in my best interests to pick another target.”
Romano was confused. So was everyone else in the room, except for Germany, because Germany was the sort of pervert who liked those games too. Not that he’d ever let anyone know.
“Veneziano. Why did you insist that we call Japan for help?”
“Ve, Germany, isn’t it obvious? It’s Japan! I hear him talking about weird medicine-y things all the time.”
The polite nation nodded. “Yes, it is true. I’ve played Trauma Center six times.”
Definitely Memory Loss [11/?]
anonymous
February 27 2010, 22:25:46 UTC
Germany began to feel very, very tired. Veneziano had a radar in his head for that sort of thing, and so made the immediate suggestion that “Ve! We should all go home and have a siesta and then some pasta and then we can come back later and maybe Romano will be all better then!”
Frankly, it was the best idea so far.
“Wait.” It was Japan. He walked around to Romano’s side, looking as forceful and as serious as Death. “Sometimes, the brain is like a remote.”
“Ve, because it can turn on?”
“Because both have a basis in electronic systems?”
“I don’t understand…” Romano agreed with Spain. Not that he’d ever let the other know that.
Japan fervently shook his head. “No, everyone. The brain is like a remote in that sometimes you just have to hit it for a little while to get it to work again.”
Wait a second…
SMACK!
“Japan!” “How dare you…!” ”VE JAPAN JUST KILLED BIG BROTHER AGAIN BUT I DON’T WANT TO BE ITALY ALL BY MYSELF!”
Ow.
Ow.
For such a small looking nation, Japan could hit really hard. “Goddamnit, what the fuck was that for?”
The four other countries were now looking at Romano with very calculating expressions. Again, Germany was the one to break the silence. “Romano… how do you feel?”
“Angry.” The others were still looking at him strangely… and when Romano spotted the hopeful look’s reappearance on Spain’s face, he realized why. “Angry and memoryless.”
“Ve, drat.”
While Germany and Veneziano went on ahead towards the elevators, Japan motioned Spain over to a corner of the waiting room. “Please, Spain-san, sit.”
And so he sat, in the chair the three had found him sitting in when they’d arrived at the hospital. It was a very comfortable chair, and it gave Spain a tiny view of Romano’s door. Just in case. Japan took a seat in a chair opposite to Spain’s. This chair was as comfortable as it looked, which was not very. Strange. It was exactly the same as Spain’s…
“Ahem. Spain-san. Do I understand correctly that you spent the night at the hospital?”
Spain blushed. “Who told you? I know I wasn’t supposed to, but…”
Japan shook his head. “No one told me anything, Spain-san. I could just tell. I’m an expert at these things, you know.”
“Does this have to do with your video games again?”
This time, it was Japan who blushed. “Never mind that, Spain-san. What matters is that I have a little bit of extra advice, just for you.”
“I thought you said there was nothing else you could do?”
“That’s true. But there are several things I think you might be able to try. First, what have you already done to try and return Romano’s memories?”
Spain didn’t hesitate. He told Japan about his failures with the history books and the old clothing. “I tried to make Romano remember the past by showing it to him, but that didn’t work!”
“Spain-san, maybe you should try showing Romano-san the more recent past.”
“Recent past…?”
“Yes. We’ve all had troubling lives. Perhaps Romano-san is none too keen to relive his.” With that, Japan stood up. “Don’t give up. I am rooting for you, Spain-san. If you keep trying, I am certain you will be able to unlock the good++ ending.”
“Yeah…”
Japan paused before walking towards the elevators. With the stethoscope still around his neck and wearing the coat that belonged to some hapless UNSICK surgeon, he almost looked like a real doctor.
“Ah, one last thing, Spain-san. If that suggestion doesn’t work out, there’s one last thing you might want to try…”
Exceedingly Happy :)
anonymous
February 28 2010, 04:38:03 UTC
You know, every time I see someone comment about giving their heart away, I get reminded of the last few lines of the Stephen Crane poem, "In the Desert." ("But I like it/Because it is bitter,/And because it is my heart.") I'm not quite sure why, since the gesture and the poem are totally different. But I felt the intense need to tell you this.
So.
Anyway, the end is nigh! As soon as my hockey is over.
Definitely Memory Loss [12/?]
anonymous
February 28 2010, 01:43:26 UTC
When the hospital room lights turned on, Romano correctly guessed that Spain had returned. He wondered what Spain was going to try next; he was persistent, Romano would give him that. But all this interference between the injured nation and his sleeping time was something that would have to stop.
“Romano.”
“Yeah?”
In two strides, Spain was standing next to the occupied bed. He shoved something towards Romano’s face and started babbling. “I’m sorry in advance that I went through your things again, and I’m sorry that it took so long to find, you really should keep all your books on a shelf and not in a box in the back of your closet, but please look at this.”
He ignored the admission of the invasion of his privacy, again. Romano also ignored how close Spain was standing to him. Because, damn it all, “Don’t tell me this is mine.”
“But it is!”
Romano inspected the scrapbook in his hands. The pages were ragged, and it wasn’t very neat, but still, a scrapbook? What kind of man was he? Did he also have a diary that Spain just hadn’t been able to find yet?
Spain tensed as Romano opened the cover of the book. “I promise I didn’t go through it or read anything, Romano. It doesn’t look so old, so it’s probably from the past few decades. Maybe it can help you.”
Romano slowly paged through the book. There were plenty of pictures, and some notes scribbled in what he assumed to be his own handwriting. Apparently he collected phone numbers. Huh. Near the center of the book, he stumbled on several loose pages.
They were letters.
Dear Romano,
I hope you’ve been doing well! I was worried when you didn’t answer my last six letters, so I sent this one along with copies of all the rest to make sure that you got the messages. I know how frustrating it can be when mail gets lost. Maybe you should have a talk with your postal service…?
<3, Spain
Something was scribbled on the other side of Spain’s letter. It had never been sent.
Spain, you bastard,
Stop sending me letters. They’re stupid. And a waste of my time. If you want to talk to me so badly then you should just fucking come over and visit or something, damnit! just call. Although I hate the sound of your voice. A lot. Words cannot properly express how much I hate being around you and your freaky house. A HOUSE ISN’T SUPPOSED TO BE THAT CHEERFUL. Shit, this letter sucks. Stupid Spain, you made me write a shitty reply.
“I don’t sound like I like you all that much, do I?”
Spain peered over Romano’s shoulder to read the letters he was pointing to. “Ah, well… you can just get a little grumpy sometimes, Romano. I’m pretty sure you don’t mean it. Maybe you hadn’t had your siesta yet when you wrote that.”
Romano flipped through a few more letters. Most involved Spain writing about his day or his tomatoes or something trivial like that. The unsent replies were all standoffish and short, and filled with crossed out words that Romano couldn’t decipher. He wondered why he had kept it all.
It probably wasn’t important.
The next section of the scrapbook was filled with pictures. Pictures of Romano and Spain. It looked like they were all taken on vacations, as the backdrops were all sunny beaches or castles or other tourist spots. Every picture was different, except for certain things. The pictures had been taken at different angles and locations, and had different poses from the two subjects. And yet Spain was always smiling like it was the best moment of his life, and Romano was usually frowning and refusing to look at the camera.
“Let me guess, you wanted us to have our picture taken in all these places.”
“Exactly!” Despite the cheerful tone, Spain looked wary. So he could learn, afterall.
“And I didn’t want to have anything to do with it.”
“I suppose that’s what you said, but I never thought you really meant it.”
Romano flipped through a few more of the pictures. There were the two countries in a crowded plaza. The next photograph barely had Romano in it at all; just the arm Spain was trying to drag into the frame.
Definitely Memory Loss [13/?]
anonymous
February 28 2010, 01:56:10 UTC
A wave of depression crashed over the room, filling every corner. It was suffocating, and probably the only reason why Romano was having a hard time breathing. Or maybe that was the guilt. At this point, Romano couldn’t really tell.
“I’m sorry I bothered you, Romano. I’m sorry that I’ve been bothering you all this time. I didn’t realize that’s what was going on, I promise! I’ll just go now.”
Romano would have jumped out of the bed and chased Spain down, very dramatically, but he had been lying down for too long, and that head injury was still making him feel a little funny. So instead he chose to yell. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Get back here.”
Looking completely lost, the country complied with Romano’s order. “Look, maybe I was exaggerating a little. Maybe I don’t actually hate you.”
Spain still looked so hopeless that Romano was beginning to fear for the end of the world. “You don’t have to say those things just to be nice, Romano. I want you to get your memories back, but I never considered that maybe you didn’t feel the same way. Or that maybe you just didn’t want your memories of me back.”
Why did this guy have to make things so complicated? “It’s not like that. Look, maybe you controlled the south parts of Italy, me, for hundreds of years. But I bet I didn’t hate you for that the entire time.”
That didn't work.
Spain’s shoulders were still hunched, and Romano was beginning to see his breath in the cold air of the room. “…Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. Fine. Ugh, damnit, these letters, then. Look at the letters! If I really hated you, I probably wouldn’t keep all of this stuff that had to do with you. Unless I was keeping it out of spite, as a memento of my grudge against you. But that’s probably not why.”
That didn't work either.
Romano was beginning to get hysterical and he wasn’t even sure why. “Just… look at these pictures.” He pointed to the open book on his lap. “See? This one, where we’re on the beach... I’m almost smiling!” Romano took a second look. “Well, maybe not. Just ignore that picture. But the one on this page, that’s definitely sort of a smile.”
He probably should just stop. Each of his efforts to make Spain feel better looked like they were causing Spain physical harm. What else could he do?
"Fuck, Spain, if my memories and I are so important to you, then you shouldn’t be giving up so easily!"
Finally, finally, Spain smiled again. “You’re right, Romano. I won’t ever give up!”
“Well…good, then.” All of a sudden, the atmosphere in the room became very awkward. Germany hadn’t come back, had he? While Romano looked around his room, just to make sure, Spain started edging in closer to his bed.
“Hey Romano?”
No Germany by the door. Romano turned to look by the television. It was weird, how could a room feel like this without some beacon of awkwardness standing around?
“I know you don’t remember anything about yourself… but do you remember the story called Snow White?”
That caught Romano’s attention. That and the fact that Spain was definitely in his personal space now. “Yeah… mmf!”
Definitely Memory Loss [14/?]
anonymous
February 28 2010, 07:51:54 UTC
Spain was kissing him. Maybe it was supposed to be gentle, and it was definitely supposed to be tender, but in reality, all Romano could feel through the kiss was Spain’s desperation.
And his tongue.
Romano stopped thinking for a while. He must not have done anything else, either, because when he opened his eyes (When did he close them?), Spain had stopped kissing him, and was staring at him expectantly. “Did it work?”
“…What?” He sounded dazed. This was… what was going on? “What are you doing?”
“Japan reminded me about the story earlier. He said True Love’s Kiss could fix anything! And if it didn’t work the first time, lots of True Love’s Kisses could fix even more things!”
“You… no. It didn’t work.” The words only made Spain look more determined, as though he was about to rush headlong into Part B of Japan’s suggestion. How was Romano supposed to react to something like that? “But… but how could you expect it to? You got the scenario all wrong!”
The other country seemed to take this into consideration. “I guess so, but it’s not like I could get the scenario perfectly; you’re in a bed and you’re almost lying down and you need to be cured, right? Which of the other parts of the story could I have gotten? You aren’t a princess, Romano…”
“You could have at least warned me, so I could pretend to be asleep or something.” Wait a minute, was he really going along with this?”
Spain had the same question. “You want to try it, Romano? For real?”
Romano couldn’t find any words, so he just put his head on his pillows, got comfortable on the little bed, and waited. And waited. And waited some more. He opened one eye. “Are you just going to stand there all day or what?”
Spain was still next to the bed, where he had been the entire time. “So that was a yes?”
The southern half of Italy sighed. “It’s not like it could hurt to try. What’s the worst that could happen? Besides, you’re not bad looking.”
The other country frowned. “Romano,” he chided, “that’s really shallow.” He might have said some other things about how Romano should have more qualifications for kissing people he didn’t remember, but before long, his mouth was otherwise occupied.
Definitely Memory Loss [15/?]
anonymous
February 28 2010, 07:54:58 UTC
After a few minutes of this, Romano’s mood had improved considerably, Spain had forgotten that he was supposed to be making Romano remember anything, and both countries had somehow managed to fit two fully grown bodies on a bed designed only for one.
Just as they were really getting into it, as Spain’s hands began to wander and Romano began to wonder whether he should be suggesting that his hospital gown would look better on the floor, something happened. Something other than heated making out, although that didn’t really stop.
As Spain returned his attentions to Romano’s mouth, from his slight interlude pressing butterfly kisses on the other’s neck, something began buzzing in Romano’s mind. If he had been wearing pants, something would have already been buzzing in those, but this was a different sort of feeling. As the country on top of him ground his hips down and began sucking on Romano’s lower lip, Romano felt ten thousand sensations. Not the least of which were the whispers in the back of his mind, and oh it was too good, and he was… he was-
THUMP
Goddamn fucking bedrails. Italy Romano clutched at his abused head and cursed the moron who had invented bedrails. Bastard was probably German.
Wait.
Well shit… he remembered. Everything. And now Spain had stopped kissing him and was looking at him with concern. “Romano… are you alright? I’m sorry, should we stop…?”
This could go several ways. Romano could let Spain know that he was alright now, and that everything was back to normal. But. But frankly, he didn’t want things to go back to normal. Normal Romano would never be caught dead or alive making out with Spain, especially when he was only wearing a flimsy paper gown. But amnesiac Romano… amnesiac Romano didn’t know any better. He could get away with a lot of things…
“The fuck are you doing, you idiot? Get back down here, it might start working soon. And this time, try running your hands through my hair…”
Spain complied.
In a house not too far away, the country of Japan was just starting a new save file in his old Trauma Center game. Now that Romano-san was in the hospital, the Asian nation would need to brush up on his medical skills. As the game loaded, Japan had a curious thought:
’Now was it one knock to the head, or two, that fixes amnesia?’
Definitely Memory Loss [16/16]
anonymous
February 28 2010, 08:30:10 UTC
There was a pounding at the door. Spain ignored it quite well and quite easily. He’d had a lot of practice in that department. Romano ignored it too, although he wasn’t a lazy bastard, so he’d been up and awake for a while. Seriously, siesta time had been over for an hour already. No, he just ignored the banging at the door on principle.
“Ve, big brother, let us in! I thought these rooms didn’t have locks…” They didn’t, but that’s what chairs were for. Romano was currently watching the television, while sitting in the only chair in the room not barricading the door.
”Breaking news! The torrential downpour that has been devastating the entire country of Spain appears to have stopped for good! Flooded areas are draining with astonishing speed, and even as I speak, citizens are returning to their homes…”
He turned the broadcast off. God, Spain was so emotional. But Romano was glad the other was happy. Mostly because Romano was also very happy, and for the exact same reasons.
Finally, the noise seemed to break through Spain’s thick skull. “Mmm… Romano? What are you doing all the way over there? And what’s making all of that noise?”
Romano stood up, and threw something in the direction of the country on the bed. As he started removing the chairs blocking the door, he spoke. “Better get some clothes on fast, stupid. I’m about to have visitors and hell if I’m going to let them see you like this.”
When the last chair had been removed, the south of Italy wisely sidestepped out of the path of the door. In doing so, he managed to avoid the north of Italy, as he crashed headlong into the linoleum flooring.
“VE! GERMANY, HELP MEEE! I’M DYING!”
Within a moment, the room was full of countries again. A very concerned Germany had momentarily forgotten his social repression, and was helping a bruised Veneziano off the floor. As the Italy in his arms cried, Germany mentally battled between actually wanting to “Veee, kiss it better Germany!” and passing out at the very thought. He ended up compromising between the two by fetching Veneziano a bandage for his ‘wound’ and then collapsing into a chair.
No one noticed, but Japan had caught it all on a camera, which he swiftly stowed in the pocket of his pilfered white UNSICK coat. “I see you are up and about, Romano-san. Does this mean you are well?”
The commotion in the room came to a halt.
“Me? Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Japan turned to the nation on the hospital bed formerly occupied by the amnesiac Romano. “Would it be intrusive of me to ask which, if any, of my suggestions proved useful, Spain-san?”
Spain hadn’t heard him. He was too busy beaming at the Italy lounging by the door. “Does this mean… do you remember now, Romano?”
“Obviously, you moron.”
As Germany observed the scene, he started feeling more and more confused. Romano and Spain were smirking at each other, Japan was blushing and…
Veneziano was finally the one to say it.
“Ve, Spain, why are you wearing big brother’s hospital gown?”
And we end on the ridiculous. Eh heh. Sorry I couldn’t write you any smut, or anything even remotely close, OP. I’m waaaaay to awkward for smut-writing. But despite the lack of outright sexytiems, I hope you liked this supposed-to-be-short-and-lighthearted-oops-during-that-middle-part-wow-this-is-20-pages-long-already piece! It was fun to write for you!
Re: Definitely Memory Loss [16/16]
anonymous
February 28 2010, 12:26:47 UTC
I am going to print this and read it whenever I felt sad, because, really. IT IS SO FRIGGIN' HILARIOUS. Author!anon, you win so much for this. I can't believe I was actually laughing when I read this.
Re: Definitely Memory Loss [16/16]
anonymous
February 28 2010, 12:57:30 UTC
I loved this. It was funny and snarky with some fluffy hurt/comfort, and everybody was IC. You made me laugh a lot, especially at long-suffering Germany, and Spain's mood having an effect on the weather, lights etc. was just too cute, like something out of a fairy tale. Good job anon!
Re: Definitely Memory Loss [16/16]
anonymous
February 28 2010, 19:06:48 UTC
ahhh my god, i so love this! completely agree with above anon's "going to print this and read it whenever I feel sad"! except i don't think i get sad much... definitely not enough, so i'll just be reading it whenever i'm a little bored? hahaha! ♥♥ i secretly hope you'll write more fics with the same spirit! SUPER GOOD, anon!!
Translation: This is amazing. You are amazing. I can't even speak. I mean, Spain and Romano and. Ahhh, I love it so much!! Author!Anon, you are making it hard to be faithful~~
And the ending? Absolute love. <3333 I mean with Spain and his gown and the "smut" and asjsdksasI Love You.
“…In other news, the rain in Spain has been falling heavily everywhere for the past eighteen hours. Authorities are calling it a national emergency. We go now to our correspondent in Madrid…”
The injured nation carefully turned off the television, and carefully threw the remote in the direction of the spare bed. This was not his fault. So what if Spain was overly emotional? If he really was a whole country, he’d get over it.
When the door opened ten minutes later, Romano was still sulking. Germany tried to walk straight out of the room again, but was caught up in the momentum of the Italy rushing through the door behind him. A stranger followed sedately after the two, and a strangely quiet Spain brought up the rear of the party. At least he’d found some normal clothes somewhere.
“Ve, brother, how was your night? Did you get enough sleep?”
Romano carefully refrained from looking at Spain. “No.”
Germany cut off the rest of Veneziano’s questions with one of his own. “Do you still not remember who you are?”
“Yes.”
“Ve, then we’ve got a solution!” Veneziano skipped over to the man standing quietly next to the door. “Do you remember Japan? (”No.”) We called him last night because he’s really good at these sorts of things. Well, Germany did most of the talking, but he let me dial the number. Japan can help you and then we can all go back home!”
The man, no, the country bowed. “It is troubling to hear what has happened to you, Romano-san.”
There was silence. Was he supposed to be responding now?
Eventually, Germany cleared his throat, awkwardly, and spoke. Germany did not tolerate ambient awkwardness well, because of his already high inner levels of it. “Japan. Please start with… whatever it is that you’re going to do.” There. That hadn’t been so hard.
Japan nodded and moved closer to Romano’s bed. As the rest of the countries watched, he opened the drawer of the nightstand and removed two surgical gloves and a stethoscope. He put on the left glove, the right glove and then finally looped the stethoscope around his neck.
“Romano-san, could you please tell me about your childhood?”
“…I don’t remember anything before I woke up in this hospital. So no, I can’t.”
Japan nodded. “I see…”
There was silence again. Was that… really it?
“Germany-san, Veneziano-san, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.”
Spain stood up as the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. “But Japan, you haven’t even tried anything yet.” He looked morally affronted. “How can you give up now?”
Japan fiddled with the stethoscope around his neck, and bowed his head. “I am extremely sorry, Spain-san, but in my experience, this is the only way to proceed. Background research indicates that if the patient does not have childhood trauma to work from, then it is a matter of pre-existing love entanglements. It is in my best interests to pick another target.”
Romano was confused. So was everyone else in the room, except for Germany, because Germany was the sort of pervert who liked those games too. Not that he’d ever let anyone know.
“Veneziano. Why did you insist that we call Japan for help?”
“Ve, Germany, isn’t it obvious? It’s Japan! I hear him talking about weird medicine-y things all the time.”
The polite nation nodded. “Yes, it is true. I’ve played Trauma Center six times.”
Reply
Frankly, it was the best idea so far.
“Wait.” It was Japan. He walked around to Romano’s side, looking as forceful and as serious as Death. “Sometimes, the brain is like a remote.”
“Ve, because it can turn on?”
“Because both have a basis in electronic systems?”
“I don’t understand…” Romano agreed with Spain. Not that he’d ever let the other know that.
Japan fervently shook his head. “No, everyone. The brain is like a remote in that sometimes you just have to hit it for a little while to get it to work again.”
Wait a second…
SMACK!
“Japan!” “How dare you…!” ”VE JAPAN JUST KILLED BIG BROTHER AGAIN BUT I DON’T WANT TO BE ITALY ALL BY MYSELF!”
Ow.
Ow.
For such a small looking nation, Japan could hit really hard. “Goddamnit, what the fuck was that for?”
The four other countries were now looking at Romano with very calculating expressions. Again, Germany was the one to break the silence. “Romano… how do you feel?”
“Angry.” The others were still looking at him strangely… and when Romano spotted the hopeful look’s reappearance on Spain’s face, he realized why. “Angry and memoryless.”
“Ve, drat.”
While Germany and Veneziano went on ahead towards the elevators, Japan motioned Spain over to a corner of the waiting room. “Please, Spain-san, sit.”
And so he sat, in the chair the three had found him sitting in when they’d arrived at the hospital. It was a very comfortable chair, and it gave Spain a tiny view of Romano’s door. Just in case. Japan took a seat in a chair opposite to Spain’s. This chair was as comfortable as it looked, which was not very. Strange. It was exactly the same as Spain’s…
“Ahem. Spain-san. Do I understand correctly that you spent the night at the hospital?”
Spain blushed. “Who told you? I know I wasn’t supposed to, but…”
Japan shook his head. “No one told me anything, Spain-san. I could just tell. I’m an expert at these things, you know.”
“Does this have to do with your video games again?”
This time, it was Japan who blushed. “Never mind that, Spain-san. What matters is that I have a little bit of extra advice, just for you.”
“I thought you said there was nothing else you could do?”
“That’s true. But there are several things I think you might be able to try. First, what have you already done to try and return Romano’s memories?”
Spain didn’t hesitate. He told Japan about his failures with the history books and the old clothing. “I tried to make Romano remember the past by showing it to him, but that didn’t work!”
“Spain-san, maybe you should try showing Romano-san the more recent past.”
“Recent past…?”
“Yes. We’ve all had troubling lives. Perhaps Romano-san is none too keen to relive his.” With that, Japan stood up. “Don’t give up. I am rooting for you, Spain-san. If you keep trying, I am certain you will be able to unlock the good++ ending.”
“Yeah…”
Japan paused before walking towards the elevators. With the stethoscope still around his neck and wearing the coat that belonged to some hapless UNSICK surgeon, he almost looked like a real doctor.
“Ah, one last thing, Spain-san. If that suggestion doesn’t work out, there’s one last thing you might want to try…”
Reply
...I don't really have much else to say. Except that I love you?
Reply
So.
Anyway, the end is nigh! As soon as my hockey is over.
Reply
“Romano.”
“Yeah?”
In two strides, Spain was standing next to the occupied bed. He shoved something towards Romano’s face and started babbling. “I’m sorry in advance that I went through your things again, and I’m sorry that it took so long to find, you really should keep all your books on a shelf and not in a box in the back of your closet, but please look at this.”
He ignored the admission of the invasion of his privacy, again. Romano also ignored how close Spain was standing to him. Because, damn it all, “Don’t tell me this is mine.”
“But it is!”
Romano inspected the scrapbook in his hands. The pages were ragged, and it wasn’t very neat, but still, a scrapbook? What kind of man was he? Did he also have a diary that Spain just hadn’t been able to find yet?
Spain tensed as Romano opened the cover of the book. “I promise I didn’t go through it or read anything, Romano. It doesn’t look so old, so it’s probably from the past few decades. Maybe it can help you.”
Romano slowly paged through the book. There were plenty of pictures, and some notes scribbled in what he assumed to be his own handwriting. Apparently he collected phone numbers. Huh. Near the center of the book, he stumbled on several loose pages.
They were letters.
Dear Romano,
I hope you’ve been doing well! I was worried when you didn’t answer my last six letters, so I sent this one along with copies of all the rest to make sure that you got the messages. I know how frustrating it can be when mail gets lost. Maybe you should have a talk with your postal service…?
<3, Spain
Something was scribbled on the other side of Spain’s letter. It had never been sent.
Spain, you bastard,
Stop sending me letters. They’re stupid. And a waste of my time. If you want to talk to me so badly then you should just fucking come over and visit or something, damnit! just call. Although I hate the sound of your voice. A lot. Words cannot properly express how much I hate being around you and your freaky house. A HOUSE ISN’T SUPPOSED TO BE THAT CHEERFUL. Shit, this letter sucks. Stupid Spain, you made me write a shitty reply.
“I don’t sound like I like you all that much, do I?”
Spain peered over Romano’s shoulder to read the letters he was pointing to. “Ah, well… you can just get a little grumpy sometimes, Romano. I’m pretty sure you don’t mean it. Maybe you hadn’t had your siesta yet when you wrote that.”
Romano flipped through a few more letters. Most involved Spain writing about his day or his tomatoes or something trivial like that. The unsent replies were all standoffish and short, and filled with crossed out words that Romano couldn’t decipher. He wondered why he had kept it all.
It probably wasn’t important.
The next section of the scrapbook was filled with pictures. Pictures of Romano and Spain. It looked like they were all taken on vacations, as the backdrops were all sunny beaches or castles or other tourist spots. Every picture was different, except for certain things. The pictures had been taken at different angles and locations, and had different poses from the two subjects. And yet Spain was always smiling like it was the best moment of his life, and Romano was usually frowning and refusing to look at the camera.
“Let me guess, you wanted us to have our picture taken in all these places.”
“Exactly!” Despite the cheerful tone, Spain looked wary. So he could learn, afterall.
“And I didn’t want to have anything to do with it.”
“I suppose that’s what you said, but I never thought you really meant it.”
Romano flipped through a few more of the pictures. There were the two countries in a crowded plaza. The next photograph barely had Romano in it at all; just the arm Spain was trying to drag into the frame.
“Hmm.”
With that dismissal, Spain finally lost his hope.
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“I’m sorry I bothered you, Romano. I’m sorry that I’ve been bothering you all this time. I didn’t realize that’s what was going on, I promise! I’ll just go now.”
Romano would have jumped out of the bed and chased Spain down, very dramatically, but he had been lying down for too long, and that head injury was still making him feel a little funny. So instead he chose to yell. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Get back here.”
Looking completely lost, the country complied with Romano’s order. “Look, maybe I was exaggerating a little. Maybe I don’t actually hate you.”
Spain still looked so hopeless that Romano was beginning to fear for the end of the world. “You don’t have to say those things just to be nice, Romano. I want you to get your memories back, but I never considered that maybe you didn’t feel the same way. Or that maybe you just didn’t want your memories of me back.”
Why did this guy have to make things so complicated? “It’s not like that. Look, maybe you controlled the south parts of Italy, me, for hundreds of years. But I bet I didn’t hate you for that the entire time.”
That didn't work.
Spain’s shoulders were still hunched, and Romano was beginning to see his breath in the cold air of the room. “…Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. Fine. Ugh, damnit, these letters, then. Look at the letters! If I really hated you, I probably wouldn’t keep all of this stuff that had to do with you. Unless I was keeping it out of spite, as a memento of my grudge against you. But that’s probably not why.”
That didn't work either.
Romano was beginning to get hysterical and he wasn’t even sure why. “Just… look at these pictures.” He pointed to the open book on his lap. “See? This one, where we’re on the beach... I’m almost smiling!” Romano took a second look. “Well, maybe not. Just ignore that picture. But the one on this page, that’s definitely sort of a smile.”
He probably should just stop. Each of his efforts to make Spain feel better looked like they were causing Spain physical harm. What else could he do?
"Fuck, Spain, if my memories and I are so important to you, then you shouldn’t be giving up so easily!"
Finally, finally, Spain smiled again. “You’re right, Romano. I won’t ever give up!”
“Well…good, then.” All of a sudden, the atmosphere in the room became very awkward. Germany hadn’t come back, had he? While Romano looked around his room, just to make sure, Spain started edging in closer to his bed.
“Hey Romano?”
No Germany by the door. Romano turned to look by the television. It was weird, how could a room feel like this without some beacon of awkwardness standing around?
“I know you don’t remember anything about yourself… but do you remember the story called Snow White?”
That caught Romano’s attention. That and the fact that Spain was definitely in his personal space now. “Yeah… mmf!”
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And his tongue.
Romano stopped thinking for a while. He must not have done anything else, either, because when he opened his eyes (When did he close them?), Spain had stopped kissing him, and was staring at him expectantly. “Did it work?”
“…What?” He sounded dazed. This was… what was going on? “What are you doing?”
“Japan reminded me about the story earlier. He said True Love’s Kiss could fix anything! And if it didn’t work the first time, lots of True Love’s Kisses could fix even more things!”
“You… no. It didn’t work.” The words only made Spain look more determined, as though he was about to rush headlong into Part B of Japan’s suggestion. How was Romano supposed to react to something like that? “But… but how could you expect it to? You got the scenario all wrong!”
The other country seemed to take this into consideration. “I guess so, but it’s not like I could get the scenario perfectly; you’re in a bed and you’re almost lying down and you need to be cured, right? Which of the other parts of the story could I have gotten? You aren’t a princess, Romano…”
“You could have at least warned me, so I could pretend to be asleep or something.” Wait a minute, was he really going along with this?”
Spain had the same question. “You want to try it, Romano? For real?”
Romano couldn’t find any words, so he just put his head on his pillows, got comfortable on the little bed, and waited. And waited. And waited some more. He opened one eye. “Are you just going to stand there all day or what?”
Spain was still next to the bed, where he had been the entire time. “So that was a yes?”
The southern half of Italy sighed. “It’s not like it could hurt to try. What’s the worst that could happen? Besides, you’re not bad looking.”
The other country frowned. “Romano,” he chided, “that’s really shallow.” He might have said some other things about how Romano should have more qualifications for kissing people he didn’t remember, but before long, his mouth was otherwise occupied.
This time, with Romano’s tongue.
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Just as they were really getting into it, as Spain’s hands began to wander and Romano began to wonder whether he should be suggesting that his hospital gown would look better on the floor, something happened. Something other than heated making out, although that didn’t really stop.
As Spain returned his attentions to Romano’s mouth, from his slight interlude pressing butterfly kisses on the other’s neck, something began buzzing in Romano’s mind. If he had been wearing pants, something would have already been buzzing in those, but this was a different sort of feeling. As the country on top of him ground his hips down and began sucking on Romano’s lower lip, Romano felt ten thousand sensations. Not the least of which were the whispers in the back of his mind, and oh it was too good, and he was… he was-
THUMP
Goddamn fucking bedrails. Italy Romano clutched at his abused head and cursed the moron who had invented bedrails. Bastard was probably German.
Wait.
Well shit… he remembered. Everything. And now Spain had stopped kissing him and was looking at him with concern. “Romano… are you alright? I’m sorry, should we stop…?”
This could go several ways. Romano could let Spain know that he was alright now, and that everything was back to normal. But. But frankly, he didn’t want things to go back to normal. Normal Romano would never be caught dead or alive making out with Spain, especially when he was only wearing a flimsy paper gown. But amnesiac Romano… amnesiac Romano didn’t know any better. He could get away with a lot of things…
“The fuck are you doing, you idiot? Get back down here, it might start working soon. And this time, try running your hands through my hair…”
Spain complied.
In a house not too far away, the country of Japan was just starting a new save file in his old Trauma Center game. Now that Romano-san was in the hospital, the Asian nation would need to brush up on his medical skills. As the game loaded, Japan had a curious thought:
’Now was it one knock to the head, or two, that fixes amnesia?’
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“Ve, big brother, let us in! I thought these rooms didn’t have locks…” They didn’t, but that’s what chairs were for. Romano was currently watching the television, while sitting in the only chair in the room not barricading the door.
”Breaking news! The torrential downpour that has been devastating the entire country of Spain appears to have stopped for good! Flooded areas are draining with astonishing speed, and even as I speak, citizens are returning to their homes…”
He turned the broadcast off. God, Spain was so emotional. But Romano was glad the other was happy. Mostly because Romano was also very happy, and for the exact same reasons.
Finally, the noise seemed to break through Spain’s thick skull. “Mmm… Romano? What are you doing all the way over there? And what’s making all of that noise?”
Romano stood up, and threw something in the direction of the country on the bed. As he started removing the chairs blocking the door, he spoke. “Better get some clothes on fast, stupid. I’m about to have visitors and hell if I’m going to let them see you like this.”
When the last chair had been removed, the south of Italy wisely sidestepped out of the path of the door. In doing so, he managed to avoid the north of Italy, as he crashed headlong into the linoleum flooring.
“VE! GERMANY, HELP MEEE! I’M DYING!”
Within a moment, the room was full of countries again. A very concerned Germany had momentarily forgotten his social repression, and was helping a bruised Veneziano off the floor. As the Italy in his arms cried, Germany mentally battled between actually wanting to “Veee, kiss it better Germany!” and passing out at the very thought. He ended up compromising between the two by fetching Veneziano a bandage for his ‘wound’ and then collapsing into a chair.
No one noticed, but Japan had caught it all on a camera, which he swiftly stowed in the pocket of his pilfered white UNSICK coat. “I see you are up and about, Romano-san. Does this mean you are well?”
The commotion in the room came to a halt.
“Me? Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Japan turned to the nation on the hospital bed formerly occupied by the amnesiac Romano. “Would it be intrusive of me to ask which, if any, of my suggestions proved useful, Spain-san?”
Spain hadn’t heard him. He was too busy beaming at the Italy lounging by the door. “Does this mean… do you remember now, Romano?”
“Obviously, you moron.”
As Germany observed the scene, he started feeling more and more confused. Romano and Spain were smirking at each other, Japan was blushing and…
Veneziano was finally the one to say it.
“Ve, Spain, why are you wearing big brother’s hospital gown?”
And we end on the ridiculous. Eh heh. Sorry I couldn’t write you any smut, or anything even remotely close, OP. I’m waaaaay to awkward for smut-writing. But despite the lack of outright sexytiems, I hope you liked this supposed-to-be-short-and-lighthearted-oops-during-that-middle-part-wow-this-is-20-pages-long-already piece! It was fun to write for you!
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completely agree with above anon's "going to print this and read it whenever I feel sad"! except i don't think i get sad much... definitely not enough, so i'll just be reading it whenever i'm a little bored? hahaha! ♥♥
i secretly hope you'll write more fics with the same spirit! SUPER GOOD, anon!!
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AZkdhskdshj? Aldhjfdusbsjdshsz. <3333 AjdhskshdILoveYounjahdkszhds.
Translation: This is amazing. You are amazing. I can't even speak. I mean, Spain and Romano and. Ahhh, I love it so much!! Author!Anon, you are making it hard to be faithful~~
And the ending? Absolute love. <3333 I mean with Spain and his gown and the "smut" and asjsdksasI Love You.
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