I do not own Hetalia, but if I did, world peace would mean take on a whole new meaning...

I also do not own the song California King Bed by Rihanna. This story is based off of that song and I changed a few of the lyrics to fit the story but overall...same song. This isn't technically a songfic, but there are lyrics with the story, just not sung. This is sort of my interpretation of the song and I know it's not really what Rihanna meant when she sang it. I hope you enjoy it!

Oh, this is also is boy loving, not at all graphic but... if you do not like the love amongst everyone than you best not be reading this... Kay? Kay.

Thanks!~

TisTheeTwilight

California Dreaming

"All human beings are also dream beings.

Dreaming ties all mankind together."
~Jack Kerouac~

The room was white, the bed was white, and his face was white, everything was too white. He was tucked tightly under the covers of the California King bed. His usual olive toned skin was ashen and his feisty eyes were closed in involuntary slumber. A single pillow had been placed carefully underneath the unconscious man's head, raising him slightly off of the bed. The Italian mans arms were down by his sides as if a doll maker carefully arranged him, because that's what he truly looked like now: A doll.

Things had been too quiet without the comatose man's constant bickering, too dull without his adorable blush, and too melancholy without his obsessive love for tomatoes. No one would have thought that the man who was lying on the bed would ever become reduced to the unconscious, doll like status that he was now. He had always seemed like a feisty, healthy man, not an ailing fragile person. He wasn't always well liked by the people around him, but no one would have ever wished him his current comatose fate.

There were only two people that loved him always, regardless of his filthy mouth and rude ways: His brother and his best friend. They knew that he never truly meant to say any of the things he did, it was just hard for him to express himself properly and they were okay with that. What they did not ever expect was to walk in on the man having an attack, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head, and his hand feverishly trying to grab at his heart through his chest. That was something that they never expected or had ever wanted to see. They called an ambulance and rushed him to the hospital, hoping and praying that the man was going to be all right.

Their prayers were shattered as they were told news of his comatose state, news of the ailment that he had kept from them for years, and of the news of his eventual departure from this world. The two couldn't wrap their heads around the Italian keeping his ailment a secret for so long. They both walked into the room and spotted the pale, unconscious man on the bed. His brother had cried his eyes out and was eventual led out into the hallway by his very stoic boyfriend. The man's best friend stayed in the room, his eyes slowly losing the life that they had always held as he dropped to his knees in the all too white room.

"Lovino."

The two other men had to explain to every one of their other friends what had happened to the Italian man. Each and every one of them stood shocked still. It didn't seem right for the feisty man to be under the white sheets of the California King bed in a constant state of rest. They had all went and visited the man multiple times, some even volunteered to stay the night, hoping beyond hope that he would wake up. His brother could never come and see him alone; he was an emotional wreck just like his brothers best friend. The younger Italian boy would clutch onto his brothers hand and his boyfriends hand as he let out heart wrenching cries each time.

There was the man's best friend who was there as much as he could possibly be. He would lie next to Italian man, letting his tears flow freely as he curled up into the unconscious man's side. They were more than best friends; they were closer than anyone two people could possibly be. The Spanish man loved the Italian man, more than life itself. This ailment wasn't only killing the comatose man; it was killing him as well.

"Lovino, please wake up. Please. I am begging you." The Spanish man would plead every time he saw Lovino and every time the man would visit; it would re-break his heart into a million pieces. Sobs would pour freely out of the usually cheerful man; his face became unidentifiable because of the rare sadness that was forever placed upon it.

"In this California King bed, we're ten thousand miles apart. I've been California wishing on these stars, for you to wake up and come back to me."

Weeks went by and there was no sign of improvement. I.V.'s were put into his arm to feed him, sometimes and oxygen mask was placed over his face, but nothing ever got better. People would often stop by and bring flowers or balloons, they would sit and talk with the unconscious man, hoping that something would bring him out of the state he was in. People who didn't even know Lovino well would sometimes stop in to stay with the sleeping man. Doctors and Nurses had even grown fond of the man, always saying few words to him while in his room. As weeks went by, they soon turned into months and fewer people stopped by the Italian man's room.

Today as the Spanish man walked into the hospital room, he wasn't expecting anything to happen. His hope had slowly been dying along with his heart and soul. He pulled the chair next to Lovino's bed closer, taking his hands in his own. He brought them up to his face, tears already starting to gather at the edges of his eyes. He didn't know what to do anymore. The doctors said that he may never wake up and he just might die in his sleep when his heart eventually gives out. That made the Spanish man feel better, because than he wouldn't be suffering, but his eyes still got wetter. He wanted his tomato back in his arms, to keep him safe and sound, to protect him from the doctors predictions. The Spanish man wanted all of this to go away.

A soft groan startled the man out of his mental battle. His eyes flew wide as he tried to get closer to the Italian. His heart was racing as another one escaped the Italian's lips. He wasn't dreaming! He clutched the man's hand tighter as he watched the Italian's eyes flutter open and look around in confusion. Air escaped his mouth, and his jaw moved open and closed slowly as he tried to talk.

"Lovino," The Spaniard had tears running down his face as he pressed desperate kisses to the Italian's hand. Lovino looked over and slowly raised his hand to brush away his tears. His eyes were filling with tears to, as he continued brushing the Spaniards face with his hand.

"Don't…Cry…" He choked out, his voice little more than a wheeze. The Spanish man winced at the attempt. This didn't make anything any easier. He was ecstatic that Lovino was awake, but the fact that he couldn't talk because of being unconscious for so long pulled at his heartstrings.

"Lovino, I love you so much, I-I…I-I… " The Spaniard choked back a sob trying to rope his emotions back in. It was easier said than done as he watched Lovino smile at him sadly. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the Italians hand.

"I love you too Antonio." He squeezed his hand a bit before closing his eyes, breathing in and out deeply. "I am going to die soon Toni." Antonio's eyes shot up and open at Lovino, he was panicking.

"N-no! Y-you will be okay, fine. Y-you'll be okay and you'll stay with m-me! You can't die. You can't…" Heart wrenching cries came out of the Spanish man as he clutched Lovino's hand with all he had. "It's not fair, Lovino. It's not fair."

"I know Antonio, I'm sorry." Antonio climbed onto the bed and pulled Lovino into his arms. The Spanish man almost broke into more tears as felt how light and fragile his little Italian was.

"I've been California dreaming for this all to be a lie." Lovino clutched onto Antonio's shirt, his little body shaking with the tears that were falling down his face.

"Me too Antonio, me too."

Lovino's consciousness spread through the group of friends like wild fire. People rushed into visit with the man that had been asleep to the world around him. Lovino's harsh words didn't come out anymore; he didn't find the point in swearing at people, or hiding his real emotions. It didn't seem worth it anymore. He wanted to finally let himself feel loved and accepted, even if it was for an undistinguishable amount of time. In his last moments, he wanted to live, be happy, be the man no one thought he could be.

When his brother had heard of his consciousness, he rushed over with his boyfriend and flung himself onto the bed. Lovino, a bit shocked a first, quickly softened and held the brother, he used to resent, close. The usual young chatty Italian brother was quiet. Few words were spoken, but many tears were shed. The connection between the brothers was evident even to the German man, quietly standing in the corner.

Lovino looked up from his brothers' shoulder and observed his brothers German boyfriend with a slight frown before relaxing and sending a soft, rare smile his way.

"Get over here you macho Potato." The German man jumped a bit as he realized Lovino was regarding him. Awkwardly the man made his way over to the hug ball and sat on the edge of the bed. Softly and slowly, Lovino pushed his brother off of him, looking at the two other men on the bed.

"I want you to take good care of my baby brother, Ludwig. He deserves to be treated with love and kindness always. I trust you to pull through on that. He is all that I have." The younger Italian started to cry again as he clutched onto Ludwig's arms.

"I will always love and take care of Feliciano, Lovino. You have my word." Lovino nodded, a familiar scowl on his face.

"I never really hated you. I just wanted you to know that." Ludwig turned his head away. Lovino swore he saw a tear fall down his face, but figured that he was seeing things. Germans don't cry…do they? Lovino shook his head, he didn't know. Feliciano carefully wrapped his arms around his brother and curled up with his brother.

A couple hours later while Lovino, Feliciano and Ludwig were sitting around talking like best of friends, Antonio came walking through the door with the all too recognizable smile on his face. Feliciano bounced up to greet him, while Ludwig stood respectfully.

"Hola Amigos!" Feliciano smiled grabbing onto Ludwig's hand.

"Ciao Tonio! We'll be going now, but we'll catch up soon. I'll see you tomorrow Lovino, Ti amo Fratello." Lovino smiled at his brother.

"Ti amo troppo." The young Italian beamed as he exited the room, clutching onto the German man's hand. Antonio smiled after the two until they had walked out of sight. He turned back to his little tomato and found that he had closed his eyes.

"I am not going to be here for much longer Toni…. I just…. I feel it." Antonio's heart sped up and effectively dropped as he quickly made his way over to Lovino's side. He climbed on the bed, pulling Lovino softly onto his lap, holding him in his arms tightly. The Spanish man, tried to get his shaking under control as he felt tears pool in the corners of his eyes.

The Italian felt the man shake and he did all he could not to burst into tears him self. He clutched himself tighter to the Spanish man, breathing in the familiar scent effectively calming him self down. Antonio shifted the Italian closer, keeping him as close to his heart as he could. He never wanted to let the man in his arms go. Ever.

"I love you Antonio," he yawned leaning against the man. His consciousness was starting to fade, his breathing was evening out. "I'm tired, I think I'll take a bit of a nap." Antonio started to shake severely, his tears openly crying now. He clutched the Italian in his arms tighter and pressed his lips into his hair.

"I love you Lovino," The Spaniard managed to whisper. Lovino closed his eyes, a ghost of a smile still on his lips as he kissed the man's shoulder.

"I'll see you later, in our California dreams." The heart monitor beeped a couple of times more until the deafening sound of the flat line filled the room leaving the Spanish man to his tears. He cradled the man close to his chest, crying into his hair.

"Every time I reach out my fingers, it feels like more than distance between us. Goodbye my California King."

I am sorry if Lovino seems out of character...but he is dying...so... I think that would be sort of a wake up call for anybody. I love you guys if you made it through this far!

So I hoped you enjoyed this piece of my soul... Please review and don't flame. Haters don't make friends.

Thanks for reading! :3