Author's Note: Hey, guys. This is a story a wrote today. I know it's probably not what you were looking forward to, but I just thought I'd put this up here. It's up on my deviantART already if you also want to read it there. This is set in an AU where the countries are ordinary people. Spain has leukemia, Hungary was killed in a car crash, and South Italy/Romano has a hard time coping with the guilt.

Don't know when I'll be getting back to "Even A Thief Can Love". I'm going through something right now and don't have much writing motivation. But I'm still trying.

Based on true events that happened in my life.

Hetalia: Axis Powers belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.

Lovino was lying down on his living room couch, hands folded over his stomach and staring up at the white ceiling. He listened to the loud pounding of the rain outside; there was a sort of rhythmic pattern that he found irritating. It had rained so much within that hour that his tomato garden had flooded. He was disappointed, and outwardly angry – throwing a fit in his empty house earlier and ended up breaking a bowl that stupid hamburger-bastard gave him a few years ago- but he didn't do much about it. Well, what could he do? He wasn't about to go out in that rain and get soaked to his underwear to save some vegetable-fruit-whatever-things that could be easily grown again. But he still felt bad he was unable to save them.

The Italian turned his head to the table to his left and reached for his phone. 9:32 AM, it read. He sighed and put it back in its place. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands as he sat up quickly. He cracked his neck and back, letting out a groan of relief when he was finally comfortable. The couch is where Lovino had been sleeping most of his nights away – well, not really sleeping. More like lying there and trying to sleep. Nightmares haunted his subconscious every time he drifted away, and was forced to stay awake.

Lovino had been sleep-deprived for days. Going back and forth through work, meetings, and the hospital was tiring. All he wanted to do was sleep. Just close his eyes and forget about all his troubles. But the world wasn't always so kind.

The 23-year-old stood to his feet, almost immediately falling back down. How long had he been on that couch? He walked over to the door that led to his backyard. He looked toward his flooded tomato plants. The once-green leaves were washed away and the bright red tomatoes were still somehow clinging onto the stem for their dear lives.

"I hate the rain," Lovino muttered to himself and then closed the blinds.

The hospital Antonio was admitted in wasn't too far from Lovino's house, and the rain had let up some, so he just grabbed an umbrella and walked there. His poorly picked black, All-Star converse were soaked through as soon as he stepped out of his driveway.

Whatever, he shrugged it off. The streets were pretty flooded so he was going to get his shoes wet no matter what he wore. But the sloshing of his socks inside his wet shoes got annoying after a couple of steps. Thank God the hospital was only a few blocks away.

The moment Lovino walked through the automatic double doors of the hospital, he could already hear the loud laughing from down the hall. He shook off his umbrella and walked over to the reception table. It was the same receptionist he had seen for the past two weeks; she was a young brunette who wore sparkly lip-gloss. She had hit on him a few times, but he always played dense and pretended to not know what she was talking about. She was cute, but not his type.

Lovino signed his name, the patient he was visiting, blah, blah, blah, same as always…

"Oh, hello there, Lovino," the receptionist greeted kindly. "Here to see Mr. Antonio again?"

"Yeah," he answered and gave her a weak smile.

She pulled out a towel from under the desk and handed it to him. "It's raining pretty hard out there, huh?"

Lovino gave her a simple nod and ruffled the towel through his hair. He handed her back the towel with a thank you.

As she took back the wet rag, she noticed the growing bags under his eyes. "Oh, my," she gasped. "You look exhausted. Haven't you had a good night's rest lately?"

"Not recently. I'm really busy and don't have much time to sleep. Besides, with Antonio and his idiots in his room, it must be hard for anyone to get any sleep over here. Thank god he doesn't have a roommate."

She let out a giggle. Oh, how that giggle reminded him of a friend…

"That's very true. When you get there, please tell them to quiet down."

"I will."

"Those three are always making such a ruckus, Lovino. How do you deal with them?" she laughed.

"Those three are always making such a ruckus, Lovino! How the hell do you deal with them?"

Lovino was taken back. Those words… how he dreaded to hear them. He quickly turned away and basically sprinted down the hall, leaving the receptionist in confusion.

"That damn woman!" he scowled to himself quietly, already feeling the tears rim his eyelids. "Why did she have to say that?"

He finally slowed his pace and stopped in the middle of the corridor. He looked down at the ground and saw his tears dripping from his eyes, forming puddles on the beige tiled floor. He let out a choked cry and wiped his eyes.

He continued down the hall slowly until he reached the third-to-last door on the right. The laughing that he heard at the entrance originated from this one room, only it was much louder, especially with the way it bounced off the hospital walls. He stood in front of the door and stared at the door handle, not being able to feel his hands for some reason. He felt frozen, like the world was moving around him but he only stayed in place. It was a feeling that kept coming back since that day… that day Elizabetha…

The door flung open, just barely missing Lovino's craned head. A blond country walked out and ran right into the Italian.

"Ah, Lovino. I didn't see you there," Francis gaped and quickly backed away to check the younger male wasn't hurt (though Lovino couldn't tell if that was just an excuse to rub his hands all over him, like he always did).

"Hey! Lovino's here!" a German yelled from inside.

The Italian looked up and saw Gilbert by the white hospital bed, in the middle of what looked to be some weird dance. His eyes shifted to the left, where the Spaniard was sitting. He was smiling and waving like an idiot. He looked paler than the last time he saw him in person (they Skyped every night). Antonio would never admit it, but his clock was ticking away, increasing it's pace each day. It would only be a matter of time before…

"We were wondering when you were going to show up, Lovino," Francis said and ushered him inside the cramped hospital room.

"Yeah!" Gilbert cheered. "You just missed the awesome dance the awesome me totally just came up with right now!"

Lovino still felt frozen. He could see what was happening, hear what was happening, but his brain wouldn't process it. He was mentally screaming at himself to do something… to no avail.

"You should've seen it, Roma," Antonio laughed. "Gil and Francis were…" He trailed off when he realized the normally loud and screaming Italian was just standing there like he was in a trance.

Antonio slowly got off the bed and walked over to Lovino on wobbly legs. He put a hand on one of his shoulders, sadness washing over his always go-happy face. He searched Lovino's glazed over eyes, looking for a light, for… for something that gave a sign that Lovino was still there.

"Lovino? Roma, what's wrong?" he whispered.

Lovino looked into Antonio's bright green eyes, and a small, trembling smile made it's way onto his face. How could you ever be sad when you look at someone like him? Someone so happy and carefree even when he knows his body is slowly shutting itself down. How could you ever feel down when near someone like that? How…

"T…The receptionist…" he started weakly and dryly, "wants you to… quiet… down."

"Oh…we're sorry," Antonio replied quietly.

Lovino looked back down at the ground and chuckled slightly. His voice became shakier. "S-She said that y-you three we-ere making a ruckus and a-asked me h-how I deal with you guys…"

He let out a few sobs, the smile on his face only growing bigger, but also sadder.

Gilbert and Francis exchanged sad glances, knowing exactly where they had heard those words before.

"Wh-Why would she say s-something like that?" Lovino cried. He didn't like to show his tears in front of other people, especially Antonio, but they just wouldn't stop. "L-Lizzy always… said things l-like that to me. She w-would laugh and smile ev-very time she s-saw me with you g-guys. She… She…"

Antonio wrapped his arms around Lovino's shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace. Lovino buried his face into Antonio's hospital-gown-clad shoulders.

"It's not your fault, Roma," Antonio whispered and fought back the tears. "It's not your fault."

Wednesday, the previous week…

"You know you don't have to do that, Liz," Lovino insisted.

"I don't care what you say. I'm getting you a present whether you like it or not!" Elizabetha argued.

Lovino let out a soft groan and rubbed his temples. He and Elizabetha had been fighting through Skype over the female getting him a late-birthday present. His birthday really wasn't anything special, but Lizzy thought different. She convinced her boyfriend, the oh so wonderful but submissive piano-playing Roderich, to drive her to the nearby mall to buy Lovino a birthday present. She was a few weeks late, but she was determined to get her favorite gossip-buddy the perfect present.

"Rod," Lovino called to the driver.

"Yeah, Lovino?" he responded. Elizabetha directed her camera's view to her boyfriend.

"How in the world do you put up with this girl?" he jeered.

"God knows how," Roderich chuckled softly, while Liz pouted childishly.

"The real question," the girl retorted, "is how you deal with those idiots of yours! Those three are always making such a ruckus, Lovino! How the hell do you deal with them?"

"Ha, I wish I knew," Lovino snorted.

"Those three are quite a hand full, Lovino," Roderich added as he signaled a right turn. "And aren't they always sending you weird pictures of when they visit Antonio in the hospital?"

"Yup," Lovino rolled his eyes. He grabbed his phone and looked through his pictures. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw a certain picture. "Liz, I'm sending you the last picture they sent me. You're gonna freak."

Lovino pressed the "send" button, and Elizabetha received it in a matter of seconds. As soon as she opened the file, she burst out laughing. The sudden outburst caused Roderich to momentarily lose control of the wheel.

"Oh my god, that is priceless! H-How is making a face like that even possible? This is the best picture ever, Lovino!" Elizabetha managed to say in between laughs. She unintentionally snorted a few times, making Lovino laugh.

"Hey, I wanna see too!" Roderich chirped, taking his eyes off the road.

Lovino's laughter immediately ceased when he saw a large truck coming into view of Elizabetha's phone. He was going to scream when he realized his throat had closed up. He couldn't breath. It was like something was squeezing his neck, squeezing the very life out of him. His senses came back to him just in time to hear wheels screeching and a loud crashed soon following after it.

Their connection was cut off.

"We all miss her, Roma. Okay? We all miss her," Antonio said and ran his fingers through the back of Lovino's semi-dry hair.

"I-If I hadn't had shown her t-that stupid picture, we wouldn't have to miss her!" Lovino screamed and pushed Antonio away. He covered his eyes with his hands. "I killed Elizabetha! I killed her!"

"Roma, that's not true! Nothing was your fault!" Antonio shouted and grabbed onto Lovino's wrists, pulling them away from his face.

"Yes, it is! I called her on Skype, I was the one she was getting a present for, I was the one who made both her and Roderich look away from the road! Everything was my fault!"

Gilbert walked out of Antonio's room in a dash, unable to stand the atmosphere. Francis and Antonio exchanged a quick look before Francis followed him.

"Gilbert," Francis called after him down the hall.

Ignored.

"Gilbert!"

He was only able to catch up with him once they got outside, after Gilbert had slipped and fallen into a large puddle. Francis tried to help him up but it was immediately denied. Some of the hospital staff had gone outside in hopes of assistance – one of which was the receptionist - but they were shooed away by Francis.

Gilbert was on his hands and knees, unable to get any further than that. Francis was standing behind the puddle he fell into. Gilbert's heavy pants seemed to echo around them.

"Gilbert, mon ami, please come back inside. You'll catch a cold out here," the blond Frenchman said after a while.

"I don't care!" Gilbert yelled. "I don't care about anything anymore!"

"You know that's not true. Frederick is still here. You still care about Fritz. Don't you love him?"

"Shut up, you damn French pervert!"

"And your little brother, don't you care about him?"

"I don't want to hear anymore!"

"But it's true, Gilbert. There are still things in this world that you care about."

"No, there isn't! I don't care about anything! I don't care!"

Their voices overlapped each other.

Francis walked closer to Gilbert and put his hand on his wet left shoulder. He could feel his friend trembling and heard his choked sobs. But there were no tears.

"You don't have to hold back your tears, Gilbert," Francis whispered, thankful it wasn't raining. "Lizzy wouldn't want you-"

In a split second, Gilbert was able to get on his feet and punch Francis in the face. The blond fell on his backside in a puddle, dirtying his clean and neat light blue-collared button up shirt.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Gilbert screamed at his friend on the ground. He covered his ears and shook his head. "You don't know anything! You don't know a thing about what Lizzy would've wanted!"

Meanwhile, inside Antonio's room…

"You know it's my fault. Everyone thinks it's my fault," Lovino whispered shakily, looking at the ground.

"That's not true, Lovino," Antonio responded gently and released his grip on the other male's wrists. "I don't think it's your fault. Neither does Gilbert or Francis. You have to listen to me, Roma. No one thinks this is your fault."

"B-But Roderich… a-and Elias!" His voice cracked at the last word, but he was too upset to care. "You heard what Elias said to me on Friday… He hates me and blames me for L-Liz's death. Roderich is probably thinking the same thing!"

"Roddy doesn't hate you. He doesn't hate anyone! He probably hates himself for not keeping his eyes on the road," Antonio said persistently.

"But it's my fault he turned away in the first place!"

"Just listen to me!"

"I wish it was me in the car crash instead of Elizabetha!"

Slap.

The high-pitched crack bounced off the clean white walls, rattling both Antonio and Lovino's eardrums.

Lovino was shocked to find his head turned to the right, a pulsing pain growing in his left cheek. He slowly brought a hand up to his red cheek. Did Antonio just slap him?

"Don't ever say something like that!" Antonio screamed at him. Never in his life had he physically hurt or raised his voice at Lovino – the person he loved dearly and wanted only to protect.

The older boy let out a few pants before Lovino was able to turn back to him, his amber eyes still in shock.

"Roma," Antonio continued in a strict but calmer tone, "I know you're in a difficult place right now and think that everyone's against you, but we all just want to help you. You don't have to go through this alone. We all miss Elizabetha, some more than others, but you can't blame yourself for what happened to her. Everyone wants her back and everything back to normal, but no matter what anyone does, nothing will be normal again. So we're all going to have to learn to adjust. And you need to learn that sometimes fate is a little twisted and cruel. Elizabetha will be able to rest in peace if she knows that all the people that love her are happy and not upset that she's gone."

Another pool of tears formed in Lovino's eyes. He hated it when Antonio said things like that to him, especially when they were true. He threw himself against Antonio and hugged him tightly. He wouldn't usually do something like that, even when the two were going out earlier that year, but hugging the Spaniard brought comfort to him. Even when he was dying, Boss Spain always had a way of making him feel better.

Antonio let out a shaky sigh as he raised his arms to hug him back.

"Silly little tomato," he whispered.

Back outside…

Francis could only stare up at his troubled friend, ignoring the pain in his left cheek where he had been punched. Gilbert's eyes were wide and wild, but his facial expression was pained and confused.

"L-Lizzy…" Gilbert whispered shakily and dropped back down to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself as though to remind himself of Elizabetha's hugs. "She was my best friend. We went through everything together. Everything! When I needed her, she was there for me! And I was there for her! How am I supposed to go on like this…?"

Elizabetha was his childhood best friend. Since the beginning, they had grown up with each other, played with each other, fought with each other… fallen in love with each other. That tomboyish girl who ran through fields with her brown hair blowing through the wind… he loved her. And he knew she loved him back. Neither of them knew when they had fallen for each other, or how for that matter, but they both knew. They exchanged confessions and gone out at one point, but broke up shortly after for the sake of their friendship. Elizabetha eventually moved on to Roderich - a close friend of the both of them - but Gilbert's feelings still lingered here and there. If he hadn't met Fritz – the love of his life - he would still be completely in love with Elizabetha.

But he regretted not being able to say it to her face one last time. He wanted to tell her how much influence she had in his life, how she showed him how to enjoy the simple things, and how much he loved her just as much as a friend than that of a lover. When she left, she had taken pieces of him with her… and he was never going to get them back.

In a simple few words, Elizabetha was his life, his soul, and his heart.

Gilbert let out loud sob and began to cry. All the sadness he had mustered up since he heard about the accident spilled out of him in waves, something even the awesome-Gilbert himself never thought he would do. It took a large amount of energy for him to restrain himself up until now. He told himself he wasn't going to shed a single tear over Elizabetha. The last and final time he and Elizabetha said goodbye, the smile she flashed him transferred to his face; seeing her smile made him smile. That smile was all he had left of Liz, and he wasn't about to lose that too.

Every time he cried, Gilbert thought he was weak. Even though everyone told him that he awesome just for being able to show his inner emotions, he couldn't allow himself to become weak because of Elizabetha. No, he was going to become stronger because of her. For her. That's why he wasn't going to cry anymore.

But one last time wouldn't hurt.

Francis felt something drip at his heart. He crawled over and embraced his friend. The German quickly hugged him back and clung to him. Francis could feel him shaking like crazy, and he wanted nothing more than to help him through this.

After about 15 minutes, Gilbert and Francis went back inside. They dried off with a few of the towels nurses handed to them at the entrance, and then continued down the hall to Antonio's room.

"You're already getting a bruise," Gilbert chuckling softly, pointing to the growing purple splotch on his friend's cheek.

"I wonder if I should give you a matching one," Francis joked.

The two shared a laugh, before they heard the sound of faint guitar music coming from Antonio's rom. Gilbert opened the door slowly.

Antonio was sitting on his bed playing his acoustic guitar while Lovino was clapping along.

"Uh, hey?" Gilbert said and closed the door behind Francis.

The two looked up, and were surprised at how dirty both of them were.

"What happened to you two?" Lovino asked, his voice steady and eyes tear-free.

Gilbert and Francis exchanged looks, and then laughed.

"It's a long story," Francis said.

The once thick and depressing mood in the single, small hospital room was now light-hearted and cheery. Antonio played a silly song on his guitar while Gilbert and Francis danced around like idiots. A regular day for the Bad Touch Trio.

Lovino laughed along with the trio for a while, but after the fun had dialed down a notch, he sat by the window. He rested his chin against his arms that were folded on the windowsill and stared up at the gray sky.

It began to rain again.

In the past, Lovino always loved rain. It helped the tomatoes grow and it was soothing hearing the light pattering on the pavement. And before Antonio knew he had leukemia, he would cuddle with him under a warm blanket while they drank hot chocolate and talked about all sorts of things they could do when the rain let up. The rain softened his heart.

But he had come to hate the rain.

It was raining the day Antonio was diagnosed with blood cancer.

It was raining the day Elizabetha was killed in the car crash.

As water continued to endlessly fall from the gray sky, Lovino's love for rain was gently washed away, along with the last strip of hope he had that something good could still happen.

Author's Note: Here are some thing's I'd like to note:

* Spain/Antonio's real name is Ryan. Hungary/Elizabetha's real name is Elizabeth (liked to be called Liz or Lizzy). Prussia/Gilbert's real name is actually Gilbert (and FYI, his boyfriend's name is really Frederich, though his name is not spelled the same way as the one in history/Hetalia). France/Francis' real name is Antoine. Austria/Roderich's real name is Rod. And Roma and Lovi are nicknames they all call me.

* After Lovino and Antonio are left alone in the room, Lovi mentions someone named Elias. Elias is Elizabetha/Elizabeth's little brother. In our Hetalia family, he represents Magyar. Magyar was the name of Hungarian territory before it was known as Hungary (I'm probably wrong but just think of it that way). He's never really liked me for some reason, and after his sister died, uh... not exactly a pretty picture. Ryan and I were Skyping Friday night, then all of a sudden, Elias - visiting Rod, since he was badly injured in the accident and those two became close after he and Liz got together- burst into the room and screamed that he hated me and that he blamed me for Liz's death :c

* The whole hospital scene happened over Skype, so there was no physical contact nor was there a receptionist; the receptionist was originally a girl I passed during school who actually said something relatively similar to what was said in the story.

* All the details that happened outside the hospital between Prussia/Gilbert and France/Francis were told to me by their real life counterparts, which means Francis was actually punched in the face and Gilbert actually had a mental break down.

* In that same scene, all the dialogue between Prussia and France is completely accurate, each sentenced copied word for word; one of them unknowingly had their phone recording, as they were recording a song back in the hospital room and accidentally left it running. They sent me a copy of the recording earlier and I wanted to add it to the story.

*I actually did witness my friend's death.

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