So, the song for this chapter is rainbows on Fire by Elissa Franceschi. [ h t t p : / / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m / w a t c h ? v = B s I B U t O F w t I ] You don't actually have to listen to it while you read, but it adds to the effect.
Well, it did for me, until the song 'Where them girls at?" came on…
~`Hospital Scene~
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
"Scalpel."
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
"Will someone get a cloth and clear up some of the blood?"
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
"Okay. I'm going to start on the lung now."
"Here's the tube, doctor."
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
"I'm making the incision."
"Someone get the
vacuum ready!"
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
"Let's get the blood out of his lungs so we can re-inflate it."
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
"Nurse! Get the defibrillator! His heart rate's dropped! We're losing him!"
"Right away doctor!"
-.
"CLEAR!"
The walls of the waiting room were beginning to dig on Spain's nerves. How long had he even been here? An hour? 10 hours? A day? Spain couldn't even tell anymore. And there wasn't a clock in the room anywhere, or at least where he could see. Honestly, who doesn't put a clock in the surgical waiting room? It's bad enough that he has to wait in this sterile, white-walled room; not knowing what his lover's condition is. Sure, I mean, Romano is a nation, so he shouldn't die. Right? Nation's can't die like mortals can… Right?
Although, there isn't a set Rules and Guidelines given to you once you become a nation. For all Spain knew, maybe nations can die from mortal events. And maybe Romano will just be the first nation to go down in the history of nations to have that happen to. Spain groaned and dropped his head onto his hands. He had to stop thinking like this! Being a negative-nelly isn't going to make this whole situation any better. 'Positive thoughts, Spain! Think positive thoughts' Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Spain lifted his head up and rested his chin on his fists.
"Okay…yeah, positive thoughts." Another deep breath. "So, when Romano is all better, I'll have to make sure we have lots and lots of tomatoes for him." Forcing a smile on his face, Spain continued on with his pep-talk. "And I'll have to make sure that the bed covers are clean before Romano comes home." Chuckling lightly to himself, "I'll have to stock up on pizza materials." Slowly, the pathetic smile Spain had managed to plaster to his face began to fade, the worry he had been so desperately trying to hide starting to shine through. Grabbing his silver cross from around his neck, Spain started to say a Spanish prayer.
"CLEAR!"
"No change."
"CLEAR!
"He's still flat-lining."
"Dammit!"
…
"Should we call it?"
…
"Doctor?"
…
…
"…Time of death…5:24pm…"
"Ah-hem. Mr. Carreido?"
Literally jumping out of his seat, Spain looked up to the doctor standing before him. The man looked tired and had a slight poker face. His blue scrubs were clean, Spain noted relieved, and the man had a face mask pulled under his chin. His white surgical cap was still on his head and his feet were still covered by the matching blue shoe covers. Naturally assuming that the man was the surgeon for Romano's surgery and with a bit of hope, Spain got up to meet him. But as Spain approached the man, he noticed that the man showed no signs of happiness or joy. In fact, the man looked like he was about to cry. Immediately, Spain's hopeful face fell to the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces.
"Signore… I'm…" the man took a deep breath and bounced on one foot to the other. "I'm sorry… he didn't make it."
Neither Spain nor the man said anything for a few seconds. The surgeon was clearly upset and Spain was as frozen as a rock. Surely he had heard wrong, Spain thought. There was no way in Hell that Romano was gone. That just wasn't possible. "I'm sorry. Can you repeat that? I seem to have heard you wrong," Spain spoke clearly and calmly, an almost eerie tone straining his voice.
The doctor placed his hand on Spain's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Signore. You didn't hear me wrong: Lovino has passed away. He didn't make it through re-inflating his collapsed lung." The surgeon patted Spain's shoulder. "I'm very sorry sir."
In an instant, every single muscle in Spain's body tensed up. His fists balled up and his toes curled in his shoes. Normally bright, smiling emerald eyes were cold, dark, and lifeless. It was as though every single happy memory, smile, and dream had been shot and thrown out the hypothetical window of Spain's body.
"¿Muertos?" Spain whispered. "…What?"
"I'm so sorry-"
"No…"
"Signore-"
"No."
"We tried everything we coul-"
"NO!" Spain grabbed the man's hand and tossed it away from him. Instantly, Spain walked a few steps away from the man, trying to contain his anger. His shaking fists closing in and out. Under his breath, he began trying to count to ten: a technique that he had shown Romano to help him control his angry outbursts. And just the thought of Romano brought tears to his eyes, because now Spain would never be able to see his lover angry ever again. Nor would he be able to see Romano try to hide the smiles that somehow manage to make themselves appear on Romano's face. Never again would Spain be able to kiss his cheeks and watch the tomato-esque blush work it's way onto Romano's face. No more brushing the stray strands of hair out from Romano's face while the former laid on top on his chest asleep after a glorious night of passionate love-making.
Never again would Spain be able to see or do any of those things.
The surgeon stood where he was. This wasn't an uncommon thing. All too often, lovers of patients who pass away in surgery react in extreme ways. Most will cry, a few will get angry. There are even the minority who faint after hearing the life changing information. Anger is not an uncommon reaction to these types of things.
"No!…He can't be dead…he… he can't be…"
Suddenly, a nurse ran into the room, still wearing her surgical gown which had blood on it. She looked frantically over to where the doctor and Spain were.
"Doctor! He… I don't know how, but… he's alive! His heart rate has picked up and he's breathing! I've never seen it before! He's alive!"
"What?" The surgeon cried out. Staring in disbelief, Spain stared at he nurse as if she had said something in Mandarin. The surgeon started for the operating door but stopped when he felt a grip on his arm, catching him where he stood. Turing around, he was met with concerned but serious green eyes. "Please. Keep him alive…"
"I will-"
"I can't lose him." Spain kept his grip on the surgeon's arm, but after an intense second or two of eye contact between the two, Spain let go and took a few steps back.
"Don't worry. I'll be out as soon as possible to let you know everything. I won't let him die again." Hesitantly, Spain nodded. The surgeon nodded back and rushed back into the operating room to get redressed, leaving Spain still standing alone in the waiting room. Taking a deep, deep breath, Spain ran his fingers through his hair and walked back over to his chair, letting gravity take him down into the chair.
So many things were running through his head.
Romano is hit by a truck.
Romano is rushed to the hospital.
Romano was dead.
Now Romano isn't dead.
God, everything is going by faster than he could even process. Taking out his silver cross again, Spain started yet another prayer for his Italian.
About an hour later, the surgeon returned to the waiting room and let Spain know that they had been able to finish everything up with Romano's lung. Without a doubt, the surgeon could hardly believe that Lovino was alive. He had been officially dead for 10 minutes. As a surgeon, he has had cases where the patient has flat-lined and had been able to be brought back. But never had a patient died and come when the doctors had given up. For god's sakes! The kid had been laying on the table for 10 minutes! How the hell did his heart suddenly decide to start back up again?
It was then that Spain decided to take a leap and tell the surgeon who he and Romano really were. That he, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, was actually the personification of the Country of Spain. And the comatose Lovino Vargas was actually the personification of South Italy. That they had both been living for centuries, himself older than Lovino.
Now, the surgeon, …he was a little disbelieving. At first he laughed the statement off. How could he not? The man in front of him was definitely not centuries old. He looked like he was only 24. But Spain didn't relent and kept telling the man that he wasn't lying. And eventually, the surgeon had no choice but to accept what Spain was telling him. I mean, given what had happened in the operating room, what other explanation would actually explain how someone could 'die' and then come back like that.
After 'convincing' the surgeon, Spain promptly called his boss and Romano's boss and asked them to send someone to the hospital to take care of everyone who had been involved with Romano's surgery. Since the identities of the countries cannot be compromised, anyone who learns their identities must be taken in by the governments of the compromised countries and abide by the rules. The identities of the nations cannot be known to the general public, otherwise the nations would never be able to go out in public for about a century.
After Spain's explanation, the surgeon told Spain the room number where Romano was taken to. Warning him not to disturb the still knocked-out patient, the surgeon stayed in his seat in the waiting room while Spain left. He claimed he needed a minute or two to sort everything out. So Spain thanked the doctor and left, deciding not to tell the doctor that he wouldn't be alone for long, seeing as how representatives from both Spain and Italy would be there soon enough to talk with him.
~Romano's room~
Standing out front of Romano's recovery room, Spain took a deep breath and opened the door. Laying on the bed, unconscious, was Romano. He was hooked up to about four or five machines.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Walking further into the room, Spain stared at his comatose lover's face. He looked peaceful. I mean, besides his temporarily wrapped up arm and leg. And sure, the long cut running from his forehead up into his hairline was turning dark blue and there was a bit of dried blood around the edges. There was also the plastic tube in Romano's mouth that was keeping his breathing up, accentuating his lower lip that was stitched up and swollen. Plus, overlooking the fact that Romano's face was a few shades paler than he had ever looked in his life. But to Spain, he still looked peaceful. Romano's frown lines where smoothed out and the tips of his eyelashes were just barely touching his cheek.
Cold.
Lifeless.
Dead.
Immediately, Spain was hit with those words. A few tears left Spain's eyes as he recalled what the doctor had said. Romano had been dead for about 10 minutes. Romano had died. Spain had come so close to losing his fragile lover permanently. It was truly nothing short of a miracle that Romano was still alive.
Reaching out cautiously, Spain gently brushed a finger along the side of the Italian's face. He let out a relieved sigh: there was no change in temperature with Romano's skin. The doctors had warned that at any point, should Spain notice a change in temperature, fever or chill, he should let the doctors know immediately. The doctors only made it through half of the surgery that Romano needed, so until it was certain that Romano could survive what's happened so far, the doctors wouldn't be able to finish all the procedures. Luckily for both Romano and Spain, the only remaining procedures are minor. Romano's top priority once he was taken to the hospital was repairing his collapsed lung. And although that had been a feat in itself, Spain was undoubtedly happy that Romano hadn't 'really' died on the table.
But hardest part now is just waiting.
Spain sighed again. The surgeon told Spain, shortly after leaving the operating room, that they would like to wait for Romano to wake up before they continue on. But if Romano remained in the same condition for the next day or two, the doctors would go back into surgery and finish everything up because of the time limit before his broken bones would start to repair themselves in the wrong places. The idea sounded horrible to Spain. He knew it was necessary for Romano to heal (and possibly live, but Spain didn't want to think of it like that). But Spain really wanted to see Romano's olive eyes and tell him that no matter what might happen, he would always love him an that he would be waiting for him the moment he got out from surgery.
Gently, Spain took hold of Romano's hand and held it in his own. Kissing each knuckle, Spain started to rub Romano's limp, un-bandaged hand with his thumb.
"Lovino…wake up mi amor. Por favor, you need to wake up. I need you to wake up."
This chapter was crap.
I really hope I haven't already made a list of Romano's injuries and that that list and this list are different.
Romano list of injuries (For your benefit and mine)
Punctured lung (right)
Cut lip (bottom, left side)
Large cut on forehead
Broken leg (tibia)
Broken arm (radius and ulna)
3 broken ribs (true ribs 3 ,4,5)
2 broken fingers (left hand, pointer and middle)
I'm taking anatomy, so I kinda have to go into detail about the injuries sustained.
