A/N: I had an idea for this chapter from other stories I've read, and I know I should be doing chapters for other stories, but I quite frankly don't care. Random terrible ideas come before organisation. Right, I've waffled on (as my mum says) enough so I'll shut up and let you read. Oh, and enjoy~

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

Ireland froze after hearing those words. He physically couldn't move, and his mind had pulled a blank on him. Before he registered what was happening, his body suddenly ripped away from Scotland and ran into England's room.

Then he saw a sight he wished he'd never saw.

England, AKA Arthur, AKA his little brother, was laid in a hospital bed with a heart monitor and a breathing checker. Tubes ran into his arm, and his eyes were closed. Ireland sucked in a breath after realising he'd stopped breathing at the sight.

In a split second, the Irishman was perched at the edge of the bed, taking a better look at his brother. Wales soon rushed in, followed by Italy. Scotland walked in slowly, as if unwilling to rest his gaze upon England again.

Ireland gently held his brother's hand, tears brimming in his eyes. Wales sat in a chair next to England's bed in silence, and Italy murmured a weak 'Arturo' before crumpling to his knees and breaking down crying. Scotland crouched down, trying to comfort the Mediterranean nation. And all Ireland could do was hold his brother's hand, hoping – no, praying – that it was all just a dream. It was then that he realised how exhausted he was. And the bed was actually quite comfortable…before the Irishman could think anymore, he fell asleep, the last noise he heard being Italy's crying and the beep of the machines.

~Time Skip (Ireland's dream is irrelevant) ~

Ireland blinked his eyes open tiredly. He'd at first had a horrible nightmare, but then it had turned into a sweet dream. The nightmare had been about his brother falling into a coma after a suicide attempt…but as Ireland looked at his surroundings, he knew that it wasn't a nightmare. It was real life. A real nightmare, one which he was stuck in for god-knows-how-long. Growling in frustration, Ireland spotted England in front of him, and he was in a…chair? When did he get in the chair? Scotland or Wales must have moved me to the chair while I was asleep. After all, I was sat on England's bed. He thought before taking one long, sad look at the Brit. He felt guilty for the entire thing. If he'd only helped England when Scotland and Wales were mean, if he'd never been mean in the first place, then England wouldn't be in a coma, with a possibility of never waking up.

I have to tell someone.

One thought crossed through Ireland's mind, followed by others.

The rest of the world needs to know.

Especially those close to England.

We can't keep it a secret.

We need help.

Ireland made up his mind to tell some countries at the next meeting, taking England's place as the representative of the UK. Would Scotland and Wales want to come as well? Probably. I won't be able to tell other nations without them anyway. Taking a deep breath, Ireland stood up, ignoring the complaints from his stiff legs, and sighed at England.

"Please, promise me you won't stay in this coma forever. Or for a long time. Please wake up. And I know you haven't been asleep for long, but I want it to stay that way. I want you to wake up, England. We want you to. So please wake up soon, okay?" He hesitated before adding, "Arthur Kirkland, my wonderful little brother." With that, he walked out the room, heading out to check for the next meeting.

~At England's house~

Ireland walked in, not surprised to find the front door unlocked and slightly ajar. He immediately saw his other two brothers in the lounge, with Italy in an armchair, head in his hands, much like Scotland outside England's room at the hospital.

"I'm back." Ireland declared as he walked into the lounge, catching the attention of the three nations.

"Took you long enough." Scotland mumbled. "You do know you fell asleep, right?"

Ireland nodded. "Yeah." He fell silent after that, and no-one else spoke.

Suddenly, all at once, the four countries said in perfect unison, "We have to tell someone at the next meeting." They all stared in shock at each other.

Wales forced a faint laugh. "So, it seems we all have the same idea."

"Ve~, I guess so." Italy replied in a tired tone, although he had the energy to say his famous 've~'.

"Alright laddies, when's the next meeting?" Scotland asked, raking his gaze over the others. Wales and Ireland shrugged.

"I know." Italy piped up. The three looked at him. "It's in three days, in my country. In Rome. It's only a G8 meeting, though." Scotland nodded and stood up.

"Right well, I might as well go to see him before we have to go." Scotland said before heading over to the front door. Over his shoulder, he added, "What? We all represent the UK, so we're all going." Then he walked out. Wales quickly understood, and followed the Scot. Ireland glanced at Italy, before beckoning him and walking after his brothers.

~Back at the hospital~

Scotland sat by the chair in England's room, staring intently at his brother, as if looks alone could wake him up. Wales had gone to the café in the hospital, looking for some coffee or hot chocolate, and Italy and Ireland hung back near the door, giving the Scot some space.

~Three days later~

Ireland, Wales and Scotland walked up to the huge doors of the meeting house. It was a very grand place, and looked beautiful from the outside. Whether or not it was beautiful on the inside, was a different matter.

But as the three brothers walked in, they were surprised to find that the interior was just as pretty as the exterior. To put it simply, they were in awe.

Italy noticed the three brothers walk in, and rushed over to greet them. "Ciao! I'm glad you could all make it, ve~" (Ciao is Italian for hello)

Wales nodded. "Yeah. Nice place, this. Are all meeting places like this?"

Italy shrugged. "Sometimes. I know France's is nice, but I think there's too many roses."

"Can't argue with that. That rose-loving French bas-" Wales was cut off by the start of a rant by a certain blonde walking in.

"Guten Tag, Italy." (Guten Tag is German for good day) Germany said in a gruff voice, before resting his icy gaze on the brothers. "Who are you?"

"I'm Scotland, this is Wales, and this is Ireland." Scotland replied in a cold tone. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing. Just that I haven't seen you around." With that, the tall German walked past them, heading towards the meeting room.

"Come on, let's get good seats, sì?" (Sì is Italian for yes) Italy beckoned them into the room that Germany had just entered, and they followed silently.

Soon, the room began to fill up with nations. Although there weren't many, since it was only a G8 meeting. And apparently, China had decided to tag along, mostly because Russia had literally dragged him into the meeting room, saying that 'he needs to keep an eye on China'.

"Alright, dudes, ready to start?" America shouted loudly.

"Hai, America-san." Japan piped up.

"Can I start?" Italy asked.

"Sure, Italy!" America sat down and allowed the Italian to speak.

"Ciao! I'm sure you know, but this G8 meeting is held in my country, in my capital, as well! I hope you like this place! Anyway, there are three people filling in for Ar- I mean, England, as he is…ill." Italy couldn't bring himself to say 'coma'.

America's eyes narrowed. "What's up with him? Poisoned himself from too much tea?" France laughed at this, and they started a conversation about how stupid the Brit is, despite the fact that Scotland could hear everything they were saying. And he didn't like it one bit.

"Shut up! You don't know anything!" Scotland snapped at them.

France raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I know you. Scotland, wasn't it? You're Angleterre's brother, aren't you? Tell me, did he actually poison himself with tea overdose?"

"No, he didn't." Ireland replied quietly. France glared at him. But Ireland continued. "He tried to kill himself. He's in a coma at a hospital in his country."

France's eye widened, as did America's. Germany heard what Ireland said, and walked over. "Sure. I bet he's just being a coward and using you people to cover for him. Pathetic. Why don't we go over there after the meeting and show him that cowardice will be punished?" He suggested with an evil smirk.

"Yeah, he'll never know what hit him." America agreed, before turning to the brothers. "I'm sorry you had to cover for that whiny limey, but don't worry, we'll give him a piece of our mind."

"Are you listening to me? If you aren't, then you become best friends with Russian water pipe, da?" Russia threatened in his sweet yet pure terrifying way.

"Actually, Russia, we're planning on kicking England's ass after the meeting. You wanna come? You can bring your pipe, if you want." America offered, avoiding Russia's question.

Russia's face lit up with a sadistic smile. "I'm in, da. England gets to meet my pipe and become best friends! Then he will finally get his first friend! Unless he's still friends with those imaginary friends of his."

Ireland listened to this with incredulity and fury. This is serious, and they're talking about beating him up?! Growling and cursing under his breath, the Irishman clenched his fists, knowing that if this meeting took too long, he'd most likely end up killing one of the nations in here. Gritting his teeth, he hoped it would finish soon.

~Japan's POV~

I sat down, glancing around the room at the other nations. Everything was normal – except one thing.

England was missing.

This surprised me, as England never missed a meeting unless he was seriously ill. He would come, even when everyone was horrible to him. I am probably the only person who's nice to him. I heard that his brothers were horrible to him when he was little, and they still pushed him round now. Italy is the only other person I can think of who isn't mean to England, but he agrees with what the others say because he's scared to disagree. Kind of like me, I guess.

But then I saw three strangers, sat where England would usually sit, except there were three seats there, instead of one. I decided that at the end of the meeting, I'd go over and ask them who they are and where England is.

~Time Skip (still Japan's POV) ~

Finally, it's over! It took two hours later than it should have, and the questions about Asa's disappearance were bugging me. I walked over to the three strangers, and tapped the smallest's shoulder.

Turning round, he asked what I wanted. Taking a deep breath, I began. "I noticed that England-san wasn't in the meeting today. Is there any reason? He never misses a meeting, so this is most peculiar. I am worried about him. Also, who are you three? I am Japan, although you can call me by my human name if you want. My human name is Kiku Honda."

The smallest nodded. "Okay, Kiku. I am Ireland, this is Wales, and this is Scotland." He introduced, pointing in turn at the two others. "We're brothers of England's. Are you a friend of Arthur's?"

"Hai."

The man called Wales stepped forward. "I'll be blunt, because sometimes Ireland adds too much detail. Arthur tried to kill himself, and he ended up in a coma, in a hospital back in his country."

I stared in shock. "No way…" I murmured in disbelief.

"It's true." The tallest, Scotland, nodded sadly. "Gotta feel bad for him."

I swallowed nervously, scared of what the brothers would say to my next question. "Can you take me to visit him?"

Now it was their turn to stare. "R-really? Wait, are you gonna do something bad to him?" Ireland narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

I shook my head. "No, don't worry. I would like to see him, if it's not too much trouble."

"No, not at all! Sure, we'll take you to see him." Ireland agreed.

I clapped my hands together. "Wonderful! Well, it's not really wonderful, but still, thank you so much, Ireland-san, Wales-san and Scotland-san." I bowed my head and followed them out.

I couldn't wait to see him.

I missed Asa-san.

I missed him so much it was as if I…

…

…

…loved him.