Since Romano was by Spain's bedside, Greece took the opportunity to check out the shed more closely. Italy came with him, wanting to see what condition it was left in.
"It smells like England's kitchen," Italy said as they entered the shed, covering his nose to block out the stench, "Even worse, now that I think of it, which is pretty impressive."
"It persists," Greece remarked. Nothing really changed in the place, except maybe it was less dark.
"Since when did Spain do alchemy?" Italy was at the table with all the science equipment, "He doesn't do much with this kind of thing."
"Why alchemy?"
"Well… this looks like alchemy stuff. I haven't seen anyone actually use this kind of thing for centuries but in all the movies this kind of thing is shown to be used for magic potions and that sort of thing. Oh, wait, this is a beaker." Italy lifted up a giant piece of what was a beaker. There was some clear residue left on it… no, not clear. As it passed the light of the late afternoon sun, Greece could see a rainbow in the liquid.
'Could it be possible…?' Greece thought as he walked over to Italy and took a closer look at the liquid. He rubbed the substance against his fingers. It felt thick, like mercury. He sniffed it; the smell was sweet. There was only one thing this could be, but how did Spain get his hands on the stuff?
"Something wrong, Heracles?" Italy asked, "You haven't said anything."
"He was working with ambrosia," Greece said slowly.
"I thought that stuff was just legend."
"No. It is very much real. It is the nectar of the gods and the bane of normal men."
"And for us nations?"
Greece shrugged, "Something in between. It won't kill us, but it is not without its side-effects. It's addicting."
"So what, was he trying to make it?"
Greece looked around the shed again. There wasn't any indication that there was more of the ambrosia lying about. "No… I don't think…"
"Well, maybe he kept it in here." Italy ran over to the cupboard and opened it up. Instead of what should have been fertilizer, gardening gloves and sun hats, there was ambrosia to be sure, but also other chemicals. "Um… Greece?"
Greece walked over and stood next to Italy. "I see…" He had no clue what Spain was doing, and he was lost more than ever looking at the chemicals in the cupboard. He figured he could rule out making more ambrosia as one of the things he was doing. Ambrosia was made using more magical substances, and was created during very specific times of the year under specific circumstances. Melatonin, microcrystalline cellulose, and doxylamine succinate were certainly not apart of that ancient recipe. There were other chemicals there, but none of them were of any help to Greece to piece the puzzle together. "Let's go back to the house for the day. I'll look into this more tomorrow."
"But… we don't really know anything more about Spain's condition."
"Ambrosia was involved. He is going to be out for a while." He did remember one time when several of the nation kind ran to his mother for help. Hellas did what she could when first taking care of them, but explained to Greece that magic does as magic wished. So if a person was placed in a coma through magical means, all the rest of the world would have to wait. It took a few weeks for those effected to become conscious again at the time. Even with all scientific advancement since the ancient times, Greece knew that there was nothing to speed up the process. "We have to wait."
Italy did not look happy about that, however he nodded all the same. As the two of them left the shed, Greece noticed a notebook. The page it was opened to was all covered in soot. He carefully picked it up. Maybe this would explain Spain's thought process… so long as Greece could decipher Spain's handwriting.
88888
Romano wasn't sure when he nodded off. It was siesta time, but he was supposed to be looking out for Spain. Maybe it was from the fit of rage he went through seeing Spain in such a state. As he looked over Spain again, nothing seemed to have changed… his face seemed a little more flushed though. Romano put a hand to Spain's head. It felt hot.
'Well, fuck,' Romano thought as he looked around the room. He needed to cool down the fever. There was still the bowl of water from earlier, but no towel to be seen. "Don't you dare get any worse," Romano scolded Spain's unconscious body before proceeding out of the room.
Romano walked down the stairs and to the closet where Spain kept clean towels and other supplies. As he grabbed a towel and fresh bandages, Romano felt very bitter about everything. An empty feeling nagged at his heart.
"…I just wanted to know if you knew what to do to help someone in a coma?" Romano heard his brother's voice come from down the hall.
Romano poked his head out to look. Italy was pacing back and forth the width of the hallway, with a worried look on his face. "And who the fuck are you calling?" Romano growled.
Italy mouthed the word "Germany" then went back to the call, "No, well, we don't know yet, he just seems to be in one. He doesn't respond to anything."
"Get off the phone with him." Romano shoved the stuff in his hands back into the closet and walked down the hall toward Italy.
"But… we have no idea how to deal with someone in a coma," Italy explained very quickly to Romano.
"We don't need his goddamn help."
"But… fratello…" Italy looked hurt. Romano was having none of it. He still hated Germany with blind rage that even Romano couldn't understand completely. There was something about that German's face he didn't like. It reminded him too much of someone who broke his brother's heart a long time ago…
Romano's foot caught on something and he could feel himself falling to the ground. In an attempt to stop himself from falling, he reached out to the bookcase that was to his right, which was a huge mistake because it ended up falling with him. And somehow, Italy was caught up in that too. Just his luck. So, it ended with the two Italians sprawled out on the ground buried under books with a bookcase almost on top of them. The only reason it wasn't was because the width of the hallway was shorter than the length of the bookcase. Romano looked behind him to see what he tripped on; a small turtle looked back at him.
"Why you idiota of a…" Romano was ready to throw the turtle out of the window.
"Feliciano?" said Germany from the phone. It was lying on the ground near Italy's hand. "Feliciano, are you alright?"
Romano made to snatch the phone, but Italy grabbed it up first. All Romano got was Italy's wrist. Good enough. Italy tried to put the phone back up to his ear, but Romano was stronger. The two Italians squirmed around helplessly on the ground in a pond of books.
Eventually, Italy had enough and gave up the struggle. Romano got the cell phone from Italy, but by that time Germany had hung up. There was a message though, which read: "I'm on my way over. Don't do anything stupid in the meantime."
"Now look what you've done, the potato bastard is coming."
"Really?" Italy said, his face lighting up with excitement.
Romano simply glared at his brother. Japan came into the hallway and looked at the situation with a confused look on his face. "And don't you dare say anything," Romano said, pointing a finger at Japan. 'My fucking God,' Romano thought to himself, 'We are hopeless, aren't we?'
Author's Note: Hellas is Ancient Greece's name. Not her human name, but her nation name. Her people would have called her that and thusly what she would introduce herself as Hellas to other nations. I figured it would be a better way of calling her than just Ancient Greece.
That is it for this week's updates. Thank you all so much for your comments. :) Until next week.
