Hello lovely readers~

I've kinda been stressing out and going through a lot of emotional problems recently, and that's kinda where this little fic came from. I just wanted to vent...and I used Spain and Romano a scapegoat. -shot-

Don't worry! I'll write a followup that won't be angsty!

Axis Powers Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya

Romano hated hospitals.

Everything about them, the too clean floors and walls, the noisy nurses and visitors running though the halls, the beeping of random medical equipment that he didn't even want to know the use of. He especially hated the smell, a truly horrific cross of antiseptic, cleaners, and sick people. The atmosphere was just depressing to him. So then, why was he here sitting on an uncomfortable bench in the ER's waiting room with a wino, two potato bastards, and his brother?

That could be summed up easily. Spain was in the emergency room.

The Italian gulped slightly as he recalled the events of the previous day. He and Spain had gotten into a fight, a bad one. It got to the point where Romano had packed up and left, shouting over his shoulder that he would be staying with his brother for a few days. Truth be told, Romano couldn't even remember what they had been fighting about...not now that Spain was here. He had been in the kitchen with his brother and the potato bastard at the time, when Prussia burst in, screaming that Spain was in the ER and that they needed to go there immediately.

'According to France, something happened when he was in a bull fight or something! What do you think happened! He probably got gored! Badly if he's in the fucking hospital! Let's go already damn it! France said he'd meet us there!'

That had been two hours ago. Two painfully long hours of them just sitting quietly in the waiting room and not knowing what was going on. France went to check frequently, but every time he came back with the same line. "He's still in surgery and they don't know when he'll be out."

Really, it made Romano want to scream.

"What was Spain doing fighting a bull anyway?" Germany asked. "Surely he doesn't do it all the time..."

"Non, he usually only does it for shows or cultural celebrations." France said, flipping idly through a month out of date fashion magazine. "Although, he has been known to do it when he's upset about something. It helps him vent, you know?"

Romano felt a guilty stab in his chest. Was Spain really that angry about their fight? About Romano walking out on him? He was so busy trying desperately to figure out what had upset the Spaniard so much that he didn't realize how jittery he was. He jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his leg, stopping its nervous bouncing. He looked up to see Veneziano smiling at him gently.

"Ve~ It'll be okay," He said softly. "Big brother Spain will be fine! You'll see!"

For some reason, Romano's voice wasn't working properly, so he just nodded. Obviously bored with the out of date fashion statements, France tossed the magazine aside and went to the nurses station to ask about Spain again. Veneziano leaned against Germany's arm, yawning slightly. Prussia was attempting to fill out a crossword left over in one of the magazines. (Though from the looks of it, he was having a lot of trouble figuring it out.)

This time, when France came back, he was accompanied by a doctor. They all froze, and Romano was pretty sure his heart was going to stop at any moment.

"How is he?" Prussia asked, tossing the crossword aside.

"As you are aware, your friend has been gored by a bull. The horn pierced him just above his hip, but thankfully it missed all vital organs. He suffered a great amount of blood loss, and will most likely have a scar."

"He'll be able to walk again, right?" France asked curtly.

"Yes, but not for a while." The doctor responded. "The horn may have missed his vital organs, but it was still a very close call. He's lucky to be alive."

As the doctor led France away to talk more about what Spain would need in order to be cared for, Romano found he was having trouble breathing. Little dots were dancing in his line of vision, his ears were ringing, and he felt terribly dizzy. He held his head in is hands, trying to gain air back in his lungs.

Spain could have died.

Could have died. And it was all his fault. If he hadn't gotten into that stupid fight with him...

France was talking again, but Romano couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. He was too busy fighting his twisting stomach and blurring vision. He did not need to pass out or throw up here! He already hated himself for a number of reasons! He didn't need to add more to the list!

"Ah, fratello... Are you alright?" He heard Veneziano ask, resting a hand on the older boys shoulder. Romano couldn't answer. As if from a distance, he heard Prussia saying something, and next thing he knew, he was being dragged outside. He looked up and saw Prussia holding his upper arm.

"W-What are you..."

"Taking you outside to get some fresh air." The German responded, letting go when they were in a patch of grass. "You looked like you were going to either faint, hurl, or both."

The Italian didn't respond. The cold air felt good against his face, and he found he could breathe a lot easier out here. He sank onto the curb, breathing slowly, very aware of the red gaze following his every movement.

"What are you fucking looking at!" Romano snapped after a minute of staring.

"Look, I know you're freaking out about Spain," He began, ignoring the sound of indignation that came from the boy. "Just listen, Spain's gonna be fine. They'll keep him here for a few days and then he'll go live with France or your brother or something for a few weeks. Doctors just give the lovely details because they get a sick kick out of scaring people."

Romano looked up at Prussia. He knew full well that doctors told it like it was because it was their job, but he still appreciated the cheer up attempt. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud.

"If it helps, they're moving him out of intensive care and upstairs to one of the rooms. Meaning we can visit him."

xXxXx

They had been allowed into the room in pairs. Romano had volunteered to go last, that way, he was guaranteed to be alone with him.

He bit his lip as he waited for France and Prussia to finish their visit. He wasn't all that sure how Spain would react when he saw him. According to his brother, Spain was awake now, and was talking to them, but Romano still felt uneasy. For one thing, Spain was under the influence of a number of drugs, so his actions probably weren't his own. And then there was the fact that none of the others had fought with Spain. None of their actions may have been responsible for landing him here.

Romano took a deep breath, and jumped slightly when the door opened and France and Prussia walked out.

"H-How is he...?" Romano asked, wincing at how his voice wavered.

"He's fucking gone." Prussia said, looking plenty irritated. "I don't know what they're giving him but he's seeing some crazy shit."

"He's just upset that Spain thought he was a giant version of his pet bird." France said, giving Prussia a disapproving stare. Romano had to hand it to the wino, he knew how to keep calm. "But he does have a point. The medicine is making him hallucinate, so don't be too alarmed at what you hear."

The boy nodded, his eyes fixed on the door separating him from Spain. He had to see him, he couldn't stand it anymore. He needed to see the damage he had caused.

"We're going home." France said, eyes trained on Romano. "You'll call us if you need to be taken home or if his condition changes, right?"

Still unable to speak, Romano nodded. He may hate France, but he understood that the nation was truly concerned for Spain. Satisfied with the answer, the two left, leaving the Italian alone in the hallway. After a moment of mental preparation, he slowly walked through the door.

He nearly let out a cry at the sight, and clapped a hand over his mouth to stop the sound from escaping.

Spain was laying in bed, battered and bruised, covered in about a million bandages. All sorts of medical machines were around his bed, hooked into his arms, and they were beeping and feeding him different colored fluids, and the longer Romano looked at them, the more sick he felt. Tearing his eyes from the heart monitor, he looked at Spain's face.

He was clearly exhausted, from both his injuries and the medicine being fed into his bloodstream. Romano didn't know what was bothering him more, the fact that Spain was clearly ready to pass out and was keeping himself awake...or the fact that he was smiling at his new guest.

"Heeeey..." Spain cooed, smiling stupidly. "Boss' little angel has come to visit."

Romano blinked for a moment. Figures he'd refer to himself as Boss, but the angel comment certainly was a surprise. The Italian pouted a bit as he took a seat in the chair closest to the bed. He was no angel, and if he was, he was a sucky one. What sort of angel let the one they were supposed to be watching land himself in the hospital anyway?

"Idiot bastard..." Romano muttered half heatedly. "You're seeing shit..."

Spain shook his head. "Nooo~ I see you!"

"They've done the impossible..." Romano muttered. "They made you stupider."

"Nuh-uh..." Spain said, eyes drooping dangerously. Romano's gut twisted guiltily. Spain should be sleeping, not arguing with him.

"H-Hey...uh... M-Maybe you should go to sleep..."

The Spaniard stared at him, eyes slightly unfocused, before shaking his head. Romano sighed. Figures the idiot would make this difficult. "Spain..."

"You just got here..." Spain whispered, looking like he would pass out mid sentence. "And...I wanted to see you..."

The Italian looked at his former boss, and felt his voice catch in his throat. Seeing Spain like this...battered and broken, it was painful to him. He could feel his heart breaking slightly at the sight...not that he'd ever EVER tell anyone. Face glowing scarlet, he reached out and took Spain's hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing gently.

"Dumbass...you can see me in the morning..." Romano said, avoiding Spain's gaze. "I-I don't plan on ditching your stupid ass..."

Spain gave Romano a sleepy smile before finally surrendering to sleep. Romano's eyes wandered over all the equipment keeping Spain in one piece, and felt tears tugging at the corners of his eyes. Still keeping their hands together, the Italian leaned up and placed a feather light kiss to Spain's temple.

"I'm so sorry..." Romano choked, tears leaking down his cheeks. "Y-You wouldn't be h-here if it weren't for me..."

With a small hiccup, Romano lowered his head into his arms, finally dozing off, still clutching Spain's hand.

Angst. Angst everywhere~

-slapped across the face- Keep your eyes posted, I'll try to write a second half soon!