CarolinePolanski, it still won't show up... Try putting spaces in the email address. Also, I'm trying something new for this chapter.

"Hello, Italy. I was speaking to the doctors, and they said even though you're in a coma, you may still be able to hear what's going on. They also told me it's probably for the best that you're sleeping for this. The medicines in the drug are very toxic, and your physical body is going through hell... You've been asleep for about three days now, and... well honestly, my life is falling apart. The dogs know you're gone, and they keep wandering around the house like they're trying to find you, and Blackie is getting sick. You know how old that poor dog is, and I'm worried he may need to be put to sleep... Also, Alexander isn't sleeping through the night anymore. Remember how you'd always give him a kiss before he went to sleep? It looks like he really relied on that comfort from you.

Now that the doctors aren't listening at the door anymore... I love you, mein Italien. You're so beautiful, even like this. Ich liebe dich."

.~*~.

"Hi, Liebling. It's been thirty three days since you went to sleep now, and life is very different. You've been having lots of visitors recently. Today, Japan came to see you. He was very polite, per the norm, and he brought an ink painting to liven up the room. You'd like it. It's a picture of two fish, swimming in a circle. One's white with a black dot, the other is black with a white dot. Like Yin and Yang, right? I can't read Kanji, I never got the grasp of it, but Japan said that you could, that you could read it when you woke up. Also, it turns out Kiku is very good with young children. So is Hungary. She's basically moved into our living room, by the way. She said it's to help with Alexander, but I know she's just keeping an eye on me.

Alexander is getting bigger. He went to the pediatrician the other day, and the doctor said that he's growing well. He's going to be six months old soon. Half a year already. It's incredible.

We had to put Blackie to sleep. The poor old dog couldn't even stand up anymore, so I knew it was time... When you wake up, we'll go to where he was buried so you can say good-bye.

I need to go now. Ich liebe dich, mein liebling..."

.~*~.

"Gute Morgen, mein liebe. This is day sixty seven, you've been asleep for over two months. I had to take Alex back to the doctors yesterday. I thought there was something wrong with his eyes, so I figured that I might as well get them checked, you know? It turns out he has a genetic deformity called Alexandria's Genesis. I looked it up, and talked to the doctors, and it won't harm Alexander in any way. It basically just means that his eyes are going to turn violet. Kind of like Austria's, I suppose. See, Italy? We knew right away that he was special, and we were right. There aren't many humans in the world with violet eyes. He'll be unique. Of course, he's always been unique. And he's here with me today. He's making his little sounds, and sometimes a swear he's trying to copy what I'm saying. He's going to be very smart. And multilingual, ha ha. With a German Vati, an Italian Papa, and a mostly English speaking world, he'll be very clever indeed.

I wish you could see him. He's still so perfect, even if the little devil still refuses to sleep properly at night. even now he's reaching for you, wanting to be with you. And, to be honest, Feli, it hurts a bit that you can't reach back for him..."

.~*~.

"Hello, liebe. It's been almost a year since you went away. I've been coming by every day I can, which luckily is literally almost every day. Alexander is walking now; it's amazing how big he has gotten. he's talking a bit too, mostly my name, and your name, too. I bring him by as much as I can, and I've made sure there are pictures of you around the house. I tell him stories about you, about us.

I don't always get to stay for long, but you aren't alone, Liebe. When they know I can't be here, the other nations are here around the clock. None of us want you to be alone. I don't know what you're seeing in your sleep, but sometimes you cry silently, and I fear you may be having bad dreams... Please dream well, Italien... We're all waiting for you...

.~*~.

"This is day four hundred. Alexander had a nightmare last night. It took Hungary and I both an hour to calm him down. I asked him what he dreamt of, and he told me he dreamt that 'Red haired man from white room went ciao, auf weidersehen'. I almost had a heart attack, I swear. Once we got him back to sleep, I had to call the hospital to make sure you were still okay.

I suppose this means that, against our best efforts, Alexander has forgotten you... He was too young when you went to sleep to remember who you are to him. We try to keep him informed, but he doesn't really understand, because he has no memories to match to the name and face. I probably shouldn't tell you this, just in case you can hear me..."

.~*~.

"It's New Year's Eve, mein liebling. Day four hundred and fifteen. I couldn't sleep last night, so I listened to the music on your iPod. I hope you won't mind. Fels, your music was... amazing. Now, I think I can understand the ways you felt through your illness, the pain you had been through, and I just want to tell you how sorry I am. For everything I've ever done or said to hurt you, for every pain you've experienced on your own... And for not knowing sooner that you were ill... I'm so sorry..."

"Germany, the countdown."

"Okay. Did you hear that, liebe? That's Japan here, spending New Years with us. It's time to do the countdown. Zehn... Neun... Acht... Sieben... Sechs... Fünf... Vier... Drei... Zwei... Eins... Null. Happy New Year, Liebling..."

.~*~.

"Day four hundred and ninety one... I woke up with a sharp pain in my heart today. It took me a moment to remember why. Happy birthday, Italy. Everyone is here with you today. Alexander, Romano, Hungary, Austria, Japan, all of your friends are here. I hope that wherever you are in your dreams, you know that we're all right here by your side. We miss you, Italy, but your body is responding to the medication. You're starting to get better, love, and I'm so proud of you. You're going to beat this, just like you said and I... I... Goddamn it... ... ... I'm so proud of you..."

.~*~.

"Day six hundred and five. You're healing from your illness, but there is more damage... Fels, your organs had started to fail long before you came to be treated... The doctors, they've been trying to combat the organ failure since day one, but your kidneys are shot. They have you on this thing called dialysis right now, but it's not a permanent fix for a nation like you... You need a new kidney... Otherwise you'll die...

Romano is gone right now. He's been with you since the beginning; he has special privileges because he's Spain's 'significant other', to use the hospital's term for it, and he's also your brother. Anyways, he's getting himself tested to see if he could be a match for you. Remember when you were so sure that he hated you? He's doing all of this for you; he's even helping me to cover the medical costs, and we all know he definitely hates me! Sleep well, I'll see you soon."

.~*~.

"This is day six hundred and six. Romano is a match, but they don't want to even consider a transplant until you have more strength. So just hold on for a while longer, okay? I'm starting to feel hopeful.

I was cleaning the house the other day, and I came across something of yours. I brought it with me, because I feel like this is something very important. When Hungary saw me holding it, she started to cry... It's a hat. It's tiny, like it would fit Alexander, and it's black with a gold trim and a gold coloured gem on it. the shape actually makes me think of a pirate hat. Then I realized why it looked familiar. The mural you painted for Alexander, the little boy in black. You never told me who he was, but... he's not here anymore, I do know that... This is the hat he wore in the mural. So I'll leave this with you when I leave today."

.~*~.

"Day seven hundred and fifty six. Alexander is getting so big, I just know you'd be proud of him if you could see him. And he's so smart, it's amazing. He's only two years old, but I was able to enroll him in a preschool close to the house. The little one that's owned by the woman who goes to your church? Alexander gets so excited to leave for school, he basically bounces off the walls in the morning. The preschool teachers absolutely love him, and they're all helping to challenge him academically. Of course, if you were there, you'd argue about how he's still a bambino and needs to have fun, too. So every day, we walk down to the park to let him play for awhile. Sometimes we go get ice cream or gelato afterwards, or we use the gelato maker you got a few years ago. It's actually pretty fun, since we get to invent our own flavours.

I forgot to tell you; Japan came to our house a few weeks ago with a lot of decorative paper and a book. he sat down and taught Alexander how to make paper cranes. The book was a story that told that if one makes nine hundred and ninety nine paper cranes, makes a wish, then folds the last crane, that the wish will come true. Alexander loved the idea. Our living room is being taken over by cranes.

I miss you everyday, Italy..."

.~*~.

"Day seven hundred and eighty. I realized something last night, liebe. We were eating dinner, and Alexander was chatting about his day (in Italian, by the way. He's very good at learning our languages) and I noticed that he has your smile. I know that must sound weird, because it's been so long since you've gotten to smile, and even longer since you've seen him, but I swear I'm not lying. He smiles, and his smile is just a bit lopsided, his nose scrunches up, just a bit, and his eyes positively glow. He has your smile, liebe. Our son, your smile. I can also see you in the way he skips down the sidewalk, the way he makes a mess of himself when he eats, and the way he loves chocolate gelato best, just like you.

I miss you, Italy... I miss you so badly, and I'd give anything to hear you chattering, to taste one of your home cooked meals, to hear your songs and lullabies, to hold you again... I fear it may be becoming too much. I want you back..."

.~*~.

"Italy It's day eight hundred and thirty three, two years and one hundred and three days since you went to sleep, and they think that you can be woken up! They can't find the illness in your body anymore, and they think that if they can wake you up, then they'll be able to do the transplant! mein Gott, I'm shaking like mad... I'm so excited, Liebe! I'll finally get to see you again!"

.~*~.

"You... You aren't waking up... Italy, why? The doctors stopped the medication that kept you safe in sleep, but now you just won't wake up... Please, open your eyes... It's been three days since they took you off the medicated coma... Open your eyes, Italy, Feliciano, I'm begging you... Please... Please..."

.~*~.

"Were we too late...? Was the cure too late to actually save you...? The disease is gone... You should be better... But was it too late for your mind...? Is this it... Is this all you'll ever get to be again...? Please, they think you won't ever wake... Prove them wrong. Liebe, I'm pleading for you to prove them wrong..."

.~*~.

Germany bowed his head, holding Italy's pale, cold hand tightly in both of his, pressing the skin to his cheek as tears fell silently down his face and his shoulders shook, jaw clenched and eyes closed tight.

"Vati?" Alexander asked softly, tugging on his father's sleeve gently. Before Germany even had time to compose himself, Hungary had swooped in, gathering Alexander to her and smiling at the young boy.

"I think your Vati needs to be alone for a moment. How about you and I go take a look at the play area on the pediatric floor? That sounds fun, sì?" the brunette said, her false cheeriness serving to distract Alexander.

"Sì!" the boy cried, bouncing excitedly as Hungary carried him away from the room, leaving Germany to fall into discomposure in private.

Germany had never cried like this. He cried, not only for this moment, afraid that Italy's essence was lost forever, but for every moment that he wished that he could have cried. The tears spilt forth in waves, and he fairly trembled from the force of his sobs. When at last his tears had dried up, he released Italy's hand, reaching up to gently stroke the hollowed cheek, being careful of the ventilator tube that breathed for Italy.

When he touched Italy's pale skin, the redhead's eyes flickered, and hope went on a crash course through Germany's chest, until he thought his heart would beat out of his chest. He leaned closer to the redheaded nation, eyes wide and hopeful.

"Italy..?"