Ukraine was the one to see England off.
"Be sure to tell me if something happens," he reminded Ukraine. She nodded and without warning leaned in to hug him. England looked surprised for only a moment before he hugged her back, briefly but warmly.
"Everything will be fine," he said. Then he released Ukraine and she in turn pulled back with a small smile. She waved him off and returned to the hospital with the help of a cab driver.
In the hospital room she was met with a warm sight. Matthew was sitting up, talking with America very quietly. Behind him sat France, who was silently brushing through the matting and knots in his hair built up from days of lying on a pillow.
"Hey, Katya," America greeted with a smile. Matthew saw the smile and gave a perfect imitation, and for a moment Ukraine did have genuine trouble telling the two apart.
"Hello Alfred, hello Matthew," she replied. Matthew's smile didn't leave his face and Ukraine wondered if he had remembered her. But there was no spark of recognition, and his eyes scanned her face as if he was seeing her for the first time.
"Are you all right?" he asked, the smile fading.
"Fine," Ukraine replied, beaming as best as she could. She took a seat on the side of Matthew's bed and listened silently while America and Matthew spoke animatedly about whether a Canadian or American hockey team would get the Stanley Cup next. Occasionally, France gently admonished Matthew in French for moving his head around, and Matthew would meekly reply, "Sorry, Papa."
When Matthew yawned France moved away and he lay down calmly. He was asleep only moments after his head hit the pillow, and it was then that America turned to Ukraine and said, "He barely remembers that we're brothers. I don't think he remembers you at all."