It was cold. No, that wasn't right. He was frozen, he knew, but he couldn't feel it. The only sensation running through his body now was an extraordinary, anesthetized numbing save the faint sting throbbing slowly from his chest. Somehow he could tell he was no longer in the bloody snow though he couldn't force his eye lids to open and his hearing was low.

"That little Italian got the worst of it, da. I was surprised he actually lived this long." Romano heard the dim sound of the unfamiliar voice with the slow, thick accent from before. "But no matter now, what did you come here for again, Captain Arthur?"

Arthur? England…he was awake. That must mean this voice belonged to whoever it was they were on their way to see, didn't it? Or maybe he really was just dead, or dying and hallucinations were over taking his mind. Who knew? Maybe such illusions didn't just happen in the dessert, in the freezing cold too?

I want to move. The Italian thought harshly to himself, but his body did less than nothing still. Move, dammit! His finger twitched reactively but he no longer could hear the conversation going on between the Russian and Englishman. His focus was stamped on moving, living again, being stuck like this drove his mind into craziness he could hardly take it.

"Sh, I do think your friend is awake, da." Ivan grinned, looking at Romano carefully.

Arthur did the same, but his look of confusion humored the Russian greatly. "He hasn't even moved a bloody inch. He's out cold."

But the only reaction he got was the taller man still watching without a sound.

But Romano didn't know he was being watched. His brain was still focused on moving, just a little more! His hand…it itched with movement, and then his other. At that moment his hazel eyes shot open and he gasped, lungs taking in all the warm air from the fire burning close. With his new revival, pain flooded back into his numb body and his crumbled lungs filling with air caused him to choke. He leaned over the sofa he found himself on until he regained control and he eased back onto the pillow that had been placed under his head. Where was he? His foggy eyes searched the room. It was a warm room, in temperature and color. There was a large fireplace and dark brown cabinets on the caramel wall. Ivan and Arthur were staring at him still, Ivan with an amused smile and Arthur with shock. Antonio was below him, wrapped in a blanket and laid on a long pillow that only lengthened about half his body. Romano found his brother curled in a ball on a nearby chair, along with France with arms around Canada in another.

England shook his head and relaxed into his chair again. "It really bloody scares me how you do that."

Russia chuckled. "I apologize, comrade." Then, his violet gaze turned to the awoken Italian but his look sent shivers up his spine. "How about some hot buttered rum, da?" He offered the glass to Romano, who took it suspiciously. "It'll warm you right up."

With a quick look at Arthur, Lovino saw he had his own glass that was almost empty. He was sure it was the same drink, both glasses held a bright, orange liquid and it smelt incredibly sweet. Bring the glass to his lips, he took and sip and shivered. It was so sweet and it burnt his tongue. But…it was good, and his stone body greeted the warmth.

"Ah, see! You look better already." The Russian grinned, watching as his guest finish the rest of the drink.

Color returned to the Italian's face and his movement became more normal, no longer broken like a frozen doll. A long sigh slid from his lips, and he relaxed into the sofa.

"Now, Arthur, as you were saying…"

I must've fallen asleep…fuck, this headache. Stupid rum…damn Russian bast… "Ugh!" Lovino sat up, holding his head. Looking around, Ivan and Arthur were gone.

"Romano!" He heard suddenly, and unexpectedly Antonio had his arms around him. "They told me you had woken up but fallen back asleep. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Are you in pain? Ivan said he gave you some medicine but I'm still worried. Are you feeling fine? Do you feel feverish? Any side effects from the medicine? Actually, do you-"

"Shut up!" Romano shoved the tan arms off him, glaring the other man down. "God, you stupid Spanish bastard, I have a headache. What do you mean pain? Why'd that fat ass give me medicine?"

Spain stared at his underling, looking him over. "Lovi, are you alright? You seem even more testy then usual…"

"Just tell me what you mean dammit!"

"Fine! Fine! He gave you medicine to help with the pain. He had doctors patch you up."

"Why?"

"Why! Mi amore! Do you not remember what happened!" Antonio gasped. "You don't remember the cart crashing!"

"That cart? The cart! Fuck! Wait, where is Feliciano! Is he alright?"

"Si, Si, he is here, Lovi. Calm down, he is fine. Everyone is alive and you were the only one really affected by the crash. You have some broken bones but that's about it But," Spain muttered desolately suddenly. "The doctors said Canada is not in such good shape either. He is extremely ill and the doctors are worried."