The next thing Matthew heard was the sound of distant crying, accompanied by a loud and annoying beeping noise. The fingers of his right hand twitched in irritation, and the beeping skipped a beat. The crying paused with a sudden gasp, and then someone was leaning over him, cool fingers brushing his forehead.
"Mm…" Matthew said. There was a sharp gasp close to him, and then the fingers and presence were gone, replaced by the sound of running feet. The sound disappeared for a second, and then increased threefold. Three hushed voices gathered around him, and he struggled to make sense of them.
"…Are you sure?"
"Oui. I definitely heard it. I'm sure he made a sound."
"Maybe it was your imagination, frog."
"Non! I'm sure I heard it!"
"Shh!"
"Mmm…" Matthew moaned, protesting the sudden increase of volume in the voices. His fingers started tapping out a rhythm on the blanket under his hand. The fingers of his left hand were unresponsive.
"Look, his hand!" Something was slid under his fingers, and he paused. He stroked the surface and discovered it was a pad of paper. He went back to tapping, but this time it could be heard.
"Matthew, can you—"
"Shh! Just listen!" This was Alfred's voice. Matthew started tapping out a melody he hoped his brother would recognize. The song was by a band they both listened to. He could feel his brother's breath hot on the back of his hand as he leaned forward to hear it better. Alfred started humming along. "Oh, I know this song, but I can't remember the words."
"Just keep listening, mon cher, maybe they'll come to you." After a moment of humming, Alfred began to mumble some words. Matthew tapped with increased energy, and then Alfred was singing.
"Hold on, if you feel like letting go. Hold on, it gets better than you know. Don't stop looking, you're one step closer. Don't stop searching, it's not over. Ho~ld on." Matthew reached up suddenly and grabbed Alfred's chin, which was the closest thing to his hand. Alfred jerked back, out of his grip. A large hand clasped Matthew's.
"Mathieu? Are you awake? Please say something, mon cher." Matthew opened his mouth and immediately started coughing. He tore his hand away and grabbed onto his throat, his body curling into itself as he tried to stop the violent coughing.
"Mattie? What's wrong?" Alfred asked.
"Get him some water!" Matthew was pulled up into a sitting position and a glass was pressed against his lips. He grabbed onto the glass and drank the water quickly, not caring when some spilled onto his shirt. There were hands on his back and shoulders, supporting him, and one on his hand holding the glass. When it was empty, he let it go with a gasp and laid back on the pillows. He opened his eyes slowly, unaccustomed to the light.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"In the hospital, mon cher." He squinted and looked around.
"The hospital?" he asked.
"Oui. After you…"
"We were very worried about you. You lost a lot of blood. We weren't sure we'd gotten you help in time. Francis has hardly left your side." He turned his head, squinting still, and raised his hand to his face. His glasses were gone.
"Oh! You can't see…here!" A pair of glasses was shoved towards his face, and he slipped them on, blinking.
"Al…these are your glasses," he said.
"I know, but I don't know where yours are," his brother said, shrugging. Matthew smiled.
"Thanks Al," he said.
"Mathieu, are you feeling alright?" Matthew turned again and his eyes fixed on Francis.
"Oh, Papa." He sat up and reached out towards him. Francis moved closer and Matthew pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It is alright, mon cher," Francis said. He pulled back and wiped at his face. "I am just happy you are okay." Matthew could tell he was the one that had been crying. His eyes were red and his face was pale, and it looked like he hadn't slept in quite a while.
"What time is it?" Matthew asked.
"It's just about midnight." Matthew turned again.
"Dad…" Arthur smiled.
"Hello Matthew," he said. "Are you okay? Are you feeling any pain?"
No, I don't think so," Matthew said, shaking his head. He looked down at his left wrist. It was wrapped heavily in bandages, and an IV protruded from the bulge. He shivered and looked away, just now realizing that his entire left arm was numb. No doubt due to the IV. He took a shaky breath. "So what happened? I can't remember anything past getting in the ambulance." Francis and Arthur looked at each other, silently communicating in the way that parents do.
"Francis rode in the ambulance with you while I followed in the car. They took you into surgery right away, and we had to wait outside. It took a long time," Arthur said.
"I was so worried, mon cher," Francis said, kissing Matthew's hand.
"I had to go pick up Alfred, and when we returned you were already in the private room," Arthur said.
"Oui. The nurse said that you were stabilized, and I could come see you," Francis said.
"We all sat in here with you, waiting for you to wake up, but Alfred got hungry, so we went down to the cafeteria while Francis stayed here," Arthur said. Francis nodded. There was a knock on the door, and they all turned as it opened and a nurse stepped inside.
"Oh good, you're awake." She came over and checked the machines to Matthew's left. She then asked him a series of questions, which he answered as well as he could, and then she turned to his family with a smile. "I'm sorry, three visitors is too many to stay overnight. Now that he's awake, I must ask someone to leave."
"That's alright. I'll take Alfred home, and we can see you in the morning," Arthur said. He patted Matthew's shoulder and moved away. Alfred leaned in and hugged Matthew. When they pulled away, Matthew handed Alfred's glasses back to him.
"See you in the morning, bro," Alfred said. Matthew nodded.
"Okay," he said. Alfred waved as he and Arthur left the room.
"Excuse me, do you know where his glasses are?" Francis asked the nurse.
"Oh, yes." She reached into a pocket and pulled out Matthew's glasses. Francis took them from her and handed them to Matthew. "The doctor gave them to me to return." Matthew slipped them on and nodded.
"Merci," Francis said.
"Thank you," Matthew echoed. The nurse nodded and smiled.
"You're welcome. Good night." She left them alone in the room. Matthew turned to Francis.
"Papa, can you sing to me like you used to when I was little?" he asked. Francis was surprised, but he smiled.
"Of course, mon cher," he said. Matthew slid over and Francis laid down on the bed beside him. "Hmm, now which…? Oh, I know." Matthew closed his eyes as Francis started to sing, and the words of the old French lullaby gently rocked him to sleep.
Disclaimer: The lyrics that Alfred sings are from a song called Hold On by Good Charlotte. I don't own them or Hetalia.
Translations: I think that should be pretty obvious.