Lucid dreaming is basically where you're dreaming and you know you're dreaming and have some kind of control of the dream. As you can probably guess if you've read my other one-shots, I'm continuing my one-shot series, and this is #4. If you haven't read Insomnia, Circadian Rhythms, or Somnambulism, I suggest you go read them. There's kind of a pattern going on here, and they may help you understand this.

Disclaimer: Do I look like the super genius Japanese dude who's name I can't pronounce that came up with Hetalia? No? Then I don't own this.

Same stuff applies.

Germany woke up in a cold sweat. That dream. It was much too realistic to actually be a dream. There was absolutely no way his subconscious could come up with something like that, scenery that beautiful, a girl that beautiful. His mind didn't have the imagination to create it all from scratch. He had to have seen something like that before.

Germany pushed the thought to the back of his mind and focused on getting ready for the day. No matter how hard he tried, though, the dream kept running through his head. He let the hot water of the shower wash over him as he lost himself in thought. Where could he have seen something like that before?

What shocked him out of his thoughts was the water turning cold. He sighed and turned it off, stepping out of the shower. He got dressed, and was about to slick his hair back, when he paused. He'd leave it down for today, he decided. He went downstairs to find Italy making them both breakfast. For once, the dish was something other than pasta.

"Morning, Germany!" she greeted him, smiling. She was starting to look much better than she had during that episode a month ago that Germany still wasn't positive was real. She no longer had bags under her eyes, and the spark had returned to them.

"Good morning," he replied, sitting down after pouring himself a cup of coffee. Not that instant American stuff that both Italy and her brother called "dirty water," but hand ground coffee hand picked by Italy herself. Germany had to admit, it was pretty good.

"Sleep well, Ludwig?" Italy asked. Germany's eyes widened, and he almost choked on his coffee, but he quickly swallowed it, pretty sure Italy hadn't seen anything.

"Yes," he replied simply, not wanting to tell Italy about his dream. An idea suddenly popped into his head. "I'm going out for while. Will you be okay for about an hour or so?" he asked. Italy had been having fainting spells recently, but she assured Germany that she was fine and that he shouldn't worry about it.

Italy nodded in response. "Ve~ I'll be fine, Ludwig! You shouldn't worry as much!"

"Okay then," Germany said. "See you later, Feli." He walked out the door and went straight to his car, a dark blue Ferrari that Italy had gotten him for his birthday. He honestly preferred German engineered cars, like his Mercedes Benz, but Italy had gone through the effort (and money) to get it for him, and he wasn't going to let that go to waste. That, and despite the car not being German-made, he still felt comfortable behind the wheel.

He questioned himself as he drove south. Was this really a good idea? Sure, Germany had heard him talking about dreams and their meaning before, but he didn't really think the man could help him, did he? Well, it was either him or Prussia, and though he loved him, Germany really didn't want to go to his older brother for serious advice. Prussia would probably just end up telling him to "loosen up, West, and try to be more awesome like me! Kesesesese," and let's face it, that's not the best advice for something so serious, Germany was loosing sleep over it.

He pulled up the long hidden drive and parked in front, letting his muscle memory take over as he tried to plan what he was going to say. Unfortunately for Germany, though, Austria opened the door before he was composed.

"Germany." Austria said, looking a little surprised. "You look different. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Uh, yes." Germany said. "Can I come in?" Austria stepped to the side and allowed him to enter. They sat down in the sitting room, and Germany began to explain why he came.

"Do you know how to interpret dreams?" Germany asked. Austria nodded in response. "Well, I've been having these strange dreams lately, and I have no idea what they could possibly mean. They seem too realistic to be dreams, too."

"What happens in these dreams?" Austria asked, sipping his tea

"Well, they usually take place in or around a large house. I'm part of it, but I'm much younger. There are two teenagers and a little girl in a green dress. What happens in the dream varies. One time, we were all having a water fight in a rainstorm. Another time, the little girl was trying to teach me how to paint. It didn't turn out that well though."

Austria started choking on his tea, but was able to swallow it without any problem.

"R-really? That's... interesting..." he said as he avoided Germany's gaze.

"Austria... What do you know about this?"

"I... I can't tell you."

"Please, Austria. I need to know."

Austria looked at him for a moment, and then hung his head in defeat. "... Fine. I knew this was going to happen eventually. Germany, what do you remember of your childhood?"

"My childhood?" Germany asked, his eyes widening in confusion. "Not much. I remember being found and raised by Prussia, but isn't that how all nations come about?"

"You're right about the way nations appear, but you have more history than that. You've just forgotten it. I believe that's what these dreams are. Old memories trying to resurface."

"So these dreams are real?" Germany buried his head in his hands. "Who else knows?"

"Myself. Hungary, your brother, and France"

"Why does France know?"

"Because he was the one who gave you amnesia in the first place."

"What.. what exactly did I forget? Who is that girl?"

"I can't tell you. I'm not allowed to trigger your memory restoration, you have to do it yourself."

Germany stood up. "Thank you for your time, Austria. I'm going to go try to trigger my memories. I'll show myself to the door."

"Germany... Wait." Austria pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to the taller man. "If anyone asks, I didn't give this to you." Germany nodded and walked towards his car, putting the little map safely into his pocket.

Note: neurologist Sigmund Freud was Austrian, and he developed the discipline of psychoanalysis and wrote extensively about dream theories and interpretations. That's why I chose Austria. That, and he lived in HRE's house. Or was it the other way around? I'm not really sure, but he and Hungary were pretty much the only ones who really knew anything about HRE and Italy's relationship, so…