A one-shot thing. I was listening to Sigh No More by Mumford & Sons when I wrote this. So in case you were wondering if there was any actual significance behind the line. There wasn't. Not really. Idk. I apologize for any spelling errors seeing as I was too lazy to check for any.

His eyes fluttered open to a heavenly white room with no ceiling. Instead, in its place, a view into the infinite cosmos, galaxies swirling, bursts of light, the black void speckled with billions of stars. He inhaled sharply, awed by the majesty and utter beauty of it all.
Suddenly, a small voice, almost like that of a young child - a girl perhaps - spoke to him, "Germany, sigh no more. Be happy." The voice appeared to be coming from within the room, which he had forgotten even existed. The man tore his eyes from the spectacle and focused in on a small, almost cherubic child. The child reminded Germany of someone, but he couldn't put a finger on who.
"Sigh no more. Be happy," the child repeated, her face knitted in concern. He stared back at the child and gaped. He knew exactly who the child was. She was not a she at all! It was Italy as a child! Germany shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, little Italy was sweeping the floor with a little pushbroom.
"Sigh no more," he repeated a third time. He looked down at his pushbroom and back up at Germany. "Be happy, Holy Rome."

Germany jolted awake and sat up, his breathing, ragged. He looked to his right and found Italy fast asleep in his bed - once again. The man smiled in his sleep, seeming so at peace.
Did he too remember their past? Had he known all along?

Germany buried his face in his hands. How could he not have known?
"Germany...?" Italy had woken up. "...ah...are you alright?" Italy put a comforting hand on the larger man's back. "Hey it's okay! I'll make you a feel better pasta tomorrow morning! Kay?"
"Am I..." Germany started. "Was I...what happened to the pushbroom, Italy?"
"Pushbroom?" Italy's voice seemed to go up several octaves.
"Why didn't you tell me..."
"I...I wasn't sure...pleASE DON'T GET MAD AT MEeeEee," Italy cried.
"It's okay, Italy. I remember now."
Italy blinked. A massive smile spread across his lips. He grabbed Germany's face and kissed him straight on the lips, causing a massive blush to form on Germany's visage. Italy broke off as quickly as it had started and smiled at him.
"iTALIEN! JUST BECAUSE I REMEMBER OUR CHILDHOOD DOESN'T GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO DO - TO DO - THAT!" He finished embarrassedly making wild hand gestures at a smiling, zoned-out Italy.
"Ve~"
"AND WHAT DO YOU THINK YOURE DOING IN MEIN BETT AGAIN?"
"You looked lonely so I crawled right in capp'n. Don't worry about it I'll make you a get well pasta just like I promised!~"
Germany sighed. "Well, I'm not going to kick you out now."
"Bravissima!" Italy exclaimed and proceeded to pass out.

When Germany woke up the next morning, he found himself alone in his bed. Was it all just some weird dream?
Germany grabbed the pillow on which Italy normally slept on and smelled it. He had washed the sheets the previous day so it should smell nice.
NEIN IT SMELLED OF GARLIC
Suddenly Italy burst into the room and Germany threw the pillow down. "Ciao, Germany! I got up before you and made a feel better pasta breakfast! And Japan helped!" Germany sighed. "Ah~ Don't sigh! We're gonna make you feel better, no?" How was he always so cheery, he thought to himself. All the same, Germany nodded and smiled a little.
Sigh no more.
Be happy.
And Germany was just that.

End.