A/N: It's been a week or two since I've updated, which doesn't sound that long, but I've been worrying. I've had some form of writer's block (for the first time) for this story, but I think it's a bit different than normal. I mean, I've had the basic idea for this chapter, but for some reason, I can't write it. It's not that I can't be arsed, it's some magical force that is stopping me from actually writing the chapter, and not just some bullet points or something.

Anyway, now you know if this chapter is terrible. Stupid magical forces (it's a very believable reason).

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

Have you ever felt like the day just drags on and on? Or perhaps that the day goes so fast you just don't know where the hours went? Well, this is partly explainable. If you are enjoying yourself, or doing something that you find very interesting, then time seems to go faster. The opposite occurs if you are doing something incredibly boring or uninteresting – time seems to drag on. However, the concept of time is a huge mystery sometimes, as any way you look at it, time doesn't change. The minutes you spend doing something fun are the same as when you do something boring. It just psychologically seems to fast or too slow.

In the nations' case, the time seemed way too slow.

They'd formulated a plan, and all they had to do was set it in motion. However, they still had five days left, as it only took one day to plan it out. It was both exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time, as they impatiently waited for the time when their friend, former mentor and brother woke up.

And the same went for the comatose Brit, who also impatiently waited to wake up. For one cannot force themselves to wake up. One must be patient – and this was not any of their strong points.

"What time is it?" One would ask.

Another would glance at a clock, or a watch, and reply with a time. And no matter what time it was, the first speaker would always groan, knowing that there was still so much time left.

In the case of England, however, who couldn't ask anyone the time, he could only mentally count the seconds. One…two…three…four…five…- and so on. And just counting seconds, not knowing if it was morning or night, was extremely irritating.

~England's POV~

"Twenty-four…twenty-five…twenty-six…" I mumble to myself, eyes shut and eyebrow twitching in irritation. "Twenty-seven – I give up!" I'm just so frustrated! Why does time go by so slowly?!

I raise my head to glare at the darkness overhead, like a blanket of night, albeit lacking stars. A starless night, yes, that's what this is like. No light, just the darkness. Lost out in the cold, all alone, waiting for someone to save me.

I sigh, before opening my mouth and yelling, "Dammit, just wake up, you bloody, good-for-nothing body! I'm ready, so why aren't you?!" Then again, I can't blame my body for this (however strange that sounds). I was the one that grabbed the knife, and I was the one who chose to end it all. I was in control of my body then, so I didn't act without thinking – well…

Ahhhhh, once again, I'm contradicting myself. I'm having an argument with myself. I really do think that if I stay here much longer, I may just go insane.

~Narrator POV~

Australia opened the front door, heading out. Most of the nations had fallen asleep while gathered in the living room for warmth. He hadn't told anyone where he was going, so he was sure he wouldn't be stopped. However, he was surprised when he was stopped before he exited the house.

"Where are you going?" New Zealand asked, rubbing his eyes

"I'm uh…shh!" He quickly walked out the door, before turning round to shut it. Unfortunately, he couldn't shut it, because New Zealand was stood right in the doorway, holding the door open.

"Quit acting suspicious and just tell me." The Kiwi caught sight of sadness in Australia's eyes, and instantly knew where he was headed. "You're going to see him, aren't you." It wasn't said as a question, but as a statement.

The Australian sighed before nodding. "Yeah; I haven't seen him yet, so I wanted to go-"

"Why don't I come with you?"

"-alone."

"Oh."

"Sorry, Zea." Australia turned and began to walk away.

"Wait!" New Zealand bolted out the doorway and overtook his neighbour, before spinning round and stopping him from going further.

Australia raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I haven't seen him yet; I'll accompany you."

He shook his head. "No, I'd prefer to go alone…" He trailed off, looking down.

"Because you don't want anyone see you get all emotional." New Zealand finished.

Australia's eyes widened. "How did you-"

"I've known you all my life, Aus. You don't like crying in front of people, especially England, because you want to be seen as a strong nation. You wanted to prove yourself at Gallipoli, but-" The Kiwi immediately cut himself off as he saw his neighbour tense, knowing that it was a subject he didn't like to talk about.

Clearing his throat, he finished, "I want to see England as much as you do. But if you break down, I don't want you to be alone. Especially not after…"

Australia turned his head away, knowing what New Zealand was hinting at. One time, during WW2, England had been very badly injured in an event called the German Blitz, and Australia had gone to visit him to make sure he was alright. After only ever seeing the strong, confident side of the Brit, seeing his weak, pained side caused him to break down. Only England, Scotland (who had been present there at the time) and New Zealand knew of Australia's breakdown. However, they never held it against him, or used it as blackmail.

Knowing he couldn't argue, Australia gave in. "Fine."

With that, the two walked away, completely forgetting about shutting the door.

"Hm…why is it so cold suddenly?" France asked, shivering slightly.

"Dunno…then again, it's always cold here." America replied.

"Hey! You cheeky git, it's not always cold here! It just…happens to be cold right now." Scotland growled.

~At the hospital~

After asking the lady working at the reception desk, Australia and New Zealand arrived at the door to the room that held their former mentor.

Taking a deep breath, New Zealand opened the door, and was greeted with the sight of England laying on a bed, eyes closed and chest rising in an even pace. He looked…peaceful.

Slowly walking in, the Kiwi glanced at his neighbour with a concerned look, before he swore in his head.

Australia's pupils were constricted, and his body tense and frozen to the spot, as he stared at England in pure shock.

"Aus…?" New Zealand called uncertainly as he cautiously approached the brunette. This is probably the first time he's seen someone close to him in a coma, he thought as he reached up to Australia's shoulder, shaking it lightly.

The taller man gasped, stumbling backwards at the contact. Worried, New Zealand said, "Hey Aus, are you alright? We can go, if you want."

Australia shakily shook his head. "N-no, I'm fine." He walked over to the nearest chair, which was by England's hip. His companion sat in the chair opposite him.

"Are you sure?"

"…Yeah."

New Zealand was unconvinced, but decided not to press on. Instead, he gazed at England, remembering the times that he saw him as often as possible. But when the British Empire fell, they seemingly lost connection – or most of it, anyway. After all, they're thousands – if not, millions – of miles away from each other country-wise, not to mention the heavy workload due to their nation status, thus making it quite rare for either of them to visit each other in their home country.

A shaky breath from his neighbour caught his attention. Glancing across, he saw Australia had his head down, hands clasped tightly together. He was shaking, but the Kiwi was unsure if it was out of anger or sadness.

"Dammit…how can I not have known?!" Australia suddenly whispered in a harsh tone, as if it took all of his self-control not to yell.

Immediately knowing what he was on about, New Zealand shook his head. "It wasn't your fault-"

"It is 'cause I'm so far away?"

"No, of course not-"

"Or is it because I'm so bloody oblivious that I can't notice when someone's suffering?"

"Don't be ridiculous-"

"Oh, I know what! It's because I only care about myself-"

"That's it!" New Zealand had had enough. "Are you hearing yourself?! None of us knew what was happening with him!" He calmed down a bit, and looked at England again. "He shields his heart from everyone around him, and guards his emotions so well that we never saw the difference in him. He only shows his anger and irritation, along with a couple other emotions – in public, anyway. He probably opens up once he gets home. None of us – especially us – could have known."

"…"

The Kiwi raised an eyebrow at Australia's silence. "What's the matter?"

"I'm sorry." He murmured quietly.

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry." The Australian repeated, louder.

"To who are you addressing?"

"Both of you."

"What?"

"I'm sorry for upsetting you with all that talk. And I'm sorry to you, England, for not being able to pick up on your suffering, and help you before…well, before all this happened."

"Don't worry about it; I forgive you as long as you never talk like that again. And I'm sure England would say that you don't need to apologize to him. He'd say it wasn't your fault and that there wasn't anything you could've done." New Zealand had meant the words to be reassuring, which they had been – until the last part of the final sentence.

"But there was something I could've done."

"Don't start that again." The Kiwi warned.

"If only I was more…attentive."

"In what?"

"Meetings, reunions, parties. If I was more attentive-"

"As a matter of fact, you're very attentive. You don't give yourself enough credit. You pick up on the smallest things-"

"But not this, obviously!" Australia spread his arms as he said 'this'. "You give me more credit than I deserve!"

"And like I said, you don't give yourself enough credit! Dammit, why are you like this suddenly?!"

Australia lowered his head so New Zealand couldn't see his eyes.

Suddenly, The Kiwi's eyes widened as he knew what was going on. "I know what it is now. When you were younger, and you had that breakdown, you were really upset and cried and everything. But now you're older, you have breakdowns in a different way. You have a complicated mood swing."

"I don't have a 'complicated mood swing'." He muttered, not lifting his head.

New Zealand raised an eyebrow sarcastically. "Oh? You went form shocked, to blaming yourself – self-loathing - , to subdued for a bit, then to sorry, then to self-loathing once again. I don't know about you, but I'd call that a complicated mood swing."

"…Whatever."

The Kiwi frowned. "What's wrong?"

"It's just…talking about it without seeing it isn't as bad as actually seeing it with your own eyes."

He soon caught on to what Australia meant, and nodded solemnly. "Aye. Before, we could say 'England is in a coma'-" He paused as his neighbour flinched, but carried on, "and since we'd never seen him in a coma before, we could only picture it. But now we've seen him like…this, every time we talk about it now, we'll immediately see him like this in our minds."

"Yeah. I guess."

A silence fell upon the room.

After a few minutes, Australia gently took England's hand in his, and leant closer to England's face to whisper to him, "Wake up soon…dad."

New Zealand made no comment, shocked by the word 'dad'. Australia used to use it to address England when he was younger, but stopped when he grew up. The term was rarely ever used nowadays – in fact, he had only heard Australia use it a handful of times.

So for him to call England 'dad' must mean that he truly meant, from the bottom of his heart, the words that accompanied the term.

But the thing that shocked New Zealand most was that whenever Australia said 'dad' – referring to England, of course - , he usually meant everything he said beforehand (or after, in some cases), which meant one thing:

England has heard Australia and New Zealand's conversation, and when Australia called him 'dad', he came to the conclusion that everything Australia had said meant:

Australia was being honest with everything he said. This is how he secretly feels, but he hides it by being cheerful. But in reality, he's falling into a depression of his own with everything that's been going off lately.

Little did they know, both the Brit and the Kiwi had drawn the exact same conclusion. So know, New Zealand wanted to help Australia as much as possible, and England wanted to wake up even more.

A/N: I'm getting inspiration back for this story, so updates may be quicker now. It's all thanks to the plot twist at the end, which even I didn't expect. I think it takes skill to not have a clue how your own story plays out, don't you?

Sorry if you didn't like the conversation with New Zealand and Australia, by the way. I wanted them to go the hospital, but the cliché of 'oh no! You're in hospital! *cries dramatically as runs all over the place*' – well, you get the idea.

And I have an evil idea that there's something behind that seemingly-always-cheerful smile of Australia's – which means I make write a story about Australia getting depressed or something.

I'm getting ahead of myself here – like I'd be able to write another story. I'm using all my inspiration stores up til I'm bled dry – basically, until I can't think of anything at all. So writing another story while I've got other on the go is out of the question, you know?

Also, because of this plot twist, this story will likely be longer than expected. I hope you don't mind.

Oh my God. Once again, I'm babbling on. I'll shut up now, and let you continue with your life.