Content warning in this chapter for painful injuries, light hyperventilation, and unwanted physical contact.

There was the sound of water—soft and gentle, like a river flowing over rocks.

And then there was pain. Shit. Sharp pain in Romano's chest whenever he breathed in, aching tenderness in his nose, arms that felt limp and useless and so numb in a sore way...

Romano found himself laying on his back, and when he finally managed to open his eyes, he could see treetops and bright blue sky. He was shirtless, but he could feel some rough fabric on his back—felt like the bedroll—and grass tickled at his arms and feet.

Soon enough, he could hear footsteps approaching. Luckily, the owner of the footsteps spoke up before he chanced twisting his neck around to see: "Romano! You're awake." America. "How you doin'?"

Romano could only huff and glare in response, because damn, that was a stupid question.

"No, seriously. Where's it hurt?" The blond sat by Romano's side then, holding some wet cloth.

"Fuck me, it hurts everywhere." America gestured for him to go on, though, so Romano added, "The worst is in my chest. Hurts to breathe too deep."

"Hm." America took a moment to glance over Romano and think, before he spoke up again. "I'm going to get you cleaned up, all right?" He began then to rub at the other man's chest with the cloth, as he continued, "It looks like you got—"

—Fuck fuck ow—"Bastard, cut that out!" The pain eased instantly, and Romano took an all-too-shallow breath of relief. Fuck. He snapped his eyes to the left (thank god those still worked like normal) to see America standing by with the cloth. "The fuck are you doing? Is that really necessary?"

"I'm cleaning you up. It'll prevent your wounds from getting infected, and I'll also be able to see the damage more clearly."

"Well, then be more careful, you rough bastard!"

"I am! As I was saying, it looks like they broke at least one of your ribs. This is going to hurt no matter what I do, all right?"

"D-dammit!" Romano felt his heart rate pick up; he did not fucking like this one bit. "Can't I just do it on my own?"

"Well… give it a try, I guess."

Romano grunted—fuck his arm did not want to cooperate right now—and he made to try and throw his hand in America's direction. Dammit shit fuck shit shit there was just pain where the muscle should be—and he couldn't quite make his arm go straight—

"That's enough, Romano," America said, and he easily pushed Romano's arm back into place by his side. "I'll take care of it. It won't be that bad, so try and relax, all right?"

Romano glared at the man sitting next to him. Dammit, why did he sound so… nice and fucking gentle right now? Did the bastard moonlight as a nurse or some shit?

"I'm trying again now. Just focus on my voice. Those two really did a number on you, you know… you've got dirt and dry blood all over here."

Fuck fuck every damn little dab made Romano's body protest like hell. He tried to focus on America like he was told, but dammit, he wasn't taking in his words anymore—all he could notice was just the sound of the bastard's voice. Fuck, fuck, shit, ow...

When America was finished, it took a few seconds for Romano to realize it, as the fucking pain still just… lingered. Did the bastard break his ribs even more, or something? Shit. Did it hurt to breathe like this before America came back? Fuuuuck.

"Hey, Romano?" America ventured, and at least it was a tiny bit uplifting to hear him sound subdued.

"What."

"I'm gonna have to do your face now. They've might've broken your nose, though."

Romano could only glare at the other. After a few seconds, though, it started to hurt his neck, and dammit, what was he supposed to do if he couldn't effectively glare anymore!? Romano huffed and stared back at the sky, focusing all of his frustration at the clouds. "Go ahead. Bastard."

Suffice to say, Romano's mood did not improve in the least for the rest of that day.

Romano was backed up against a wall, and besides that, there was just America. The blond was pressed up close, and with one hand he pinned Romano's arms to the wall, above his head; with the other hand, he stroked down Romano's jawline, down over the side of his neck. Romano felt… chills. All over.

But. Somehow, it was all wrong. Romano wanted to shout, but his throat felt tight. He looked up then, into America's eyes—cold and hard. The blond wore a sneer, and his hand had reached Romano's waist then, and slid under his shirt.

Oh, god—he was going to die.

"Stupid," America said, and his voice was so harsh it could cut the air. "You're so worthless. What were you thinking? I'm fucking sick of having to put up with you." His hand was on the other man's chest now, fingers splayed out. "Romano. You're everything I could ever hate. I should've gotten rid of you months ago."

And then, America pressed into Romano's chest, and pain surged from there and consumed his whole body—

—And then there was the night sky, littered with shimmering stars.

Romano grasped at his chest, sharp pains inside, like he was stabbed and couldn't breathe—he tried to inhale, and all he heard was his own quick and shaky breath before the pain exploded again—

He tried to take another breath, and he noticed then the sound of the river, still flowing as steadily as ever. Romano focused on the river then, and slowly, he could feel the tension release from his chest, and the pain started to recede, ever so slightly. He relaxed his position then, and went back to steadying his breath. Just the sound of water, and nice, deep, breaths.

Romano didn't know how long he'd been doing that, but finally, he felt… not good, but at least, stable.

Only then, did he notice that America wasn't around.

...Was that a good thing, or a bad thing? Romano grit his teeth as America's eyes from his latest nightmare flashed in his mind. What the hell was that? Did America really feel that way about him?

A cold chill spread down Romano's spine at the thought of that.

But… America is a friendly guy, Romano reminded himself. He remembered all the times he saw the other man so unreasonably chipper, and just… well, when wasn't America perky? When did America ever seem so angry—so hateful—towards any single person?

Fuck, that dream, though. It was definitely another one of… those dreams, the ones that showed the future somehow. There was no mistaking how sharp it felt.

"Hey, Romano—you awake?"

The Italian yelped and his body jolted, and ow, ow, that was a shitty reaction.

"...I'm going to take that as a yes." Romano steadied his breathing and glanced to the side, seeing America settle back into his nearby bedroll.

"B-Bastard. Where the hell were you?" Looking at America now… there was absolutely no trace of that coldness from the dream. Just… well… if anything, warmth and comfort. Romano would never be able to say it out loud, but dammit… America was actually doing a pretty good job of taking care of him.

"Taking a walk. I was having trouble sleeping. Do you need something?"

"No. Just getting myself back to sleep now, asshole."

"All right. Good night, then!" America sent Romano a smile before laying on his back. After a moment, he withdrew something from his breast pocket, and held it up, staring at the object as the moonlight shone down on it.

Romano recognized it as the Indigo Crystal—shaped like a pussy willow branch with its many small round buds, and still glowing faintly in its namesake color.

"Oi, America. The fuck are you doing?"

It seemed to take a moment for America to realize he was being spoken to, but finally his eyes focused and he faced Romano. "Oh, hey. I was just thinking."

Romano rolled his eyes. "Well, now that's surprising."

America paid the remark no mind and continued, "It's about this Crystal. Espra told us that this one brings back sadness… so, should we really try and bring it back? The people of this world are all happy now, but if we revive the Indigo Crystal, then we'll literally be spreading misery and suffering through the whole world."

"Not everyone can be happy all the time like you, dumbass. It's normal to feel sad."

"It's normal for us to feel sad. But here, we have the chance to keep it away from the whole world, forever. No one would ever have to suffer!"

Romano frowned. "Look, it doesn't even matter what we think. We have to restore all the Crystals in order to get home."

"...Oh. Yeah."

"Yeah, burger-brain."

"Well… anyway, this isn't something we need to be losing sleep over. Especially not you, dude." America's smile switched on again, and he tucked the Crystal back into his pocket. "'Night!"

"Yeah, whatever, good night." Romano cozied himself into his bedroll again and tried to fall back asleep.

Sleep didn't return immediately, though, so he snuck a look at America. Despite the blond's recommendation that they needed to rest, it didn't take long for America's smile to melt away into that pensive expression again. Even as Romano finally started to drift off, he could still see that the other man was wide awake, staring at the moon and stars, as though they could answer the questions on his mind.

Author's Notes:

Hey there, everyone! Finally, chapter ten is here! Hooray!

Since I like adding in little extra facts sometimes, well, here I go! I looked up broken ribs a little bit for this chapter, and it felt in line with the situation and with the severity of injury I wanted… but sadly, there really isn't anything that can be done about them. I wanted a cute little situation where America just, I dunno… wrapped the wounds or something, and there would be a little intimacy, or something—I don't like over-romanticizing injuries, but it would've been nice to just have a teeny tiny something-something there.

But no, the procedure for that is just, do nothing, have the patient take it easy, as far as I read. WebMD told me that doctors used to wrap a sort of binding around the chest to help keep it in place for the bones to heal, but then it could prevent the patient from taking full breaths as needed, and then making that happen for extended periods could make other complications arise… so no, nope, Romano's just gotta lay there and take it.

If it makes anyone feel any better, it's just a rib fracture, and not like… completely broken into pieces, laying all over the place Trauma Center-style sort of broken. Has anyone played any of the Trauma Center games? Even though it looks kind of silly, they love making you piece bones back together, like some jigsaw puzzle that had the pieces thrown all over the damn place. XD

Fuck, I love to ramble. Well, look, on a completely different note—the language of flowers has not been kind to me! Granted, I don't super look into it way deep—I just try and do a quick Google search for 'flower that represents insert emotion the Crystal represents here' and then I pick out whatever I see that I like.

For every flavor of romantic love you can think of—lust, love at first sight, 'I'm always thinking of you', whatever!—there's going to be a damn flower for it. Any other emotion? Not so much! Nothing at all for pensiveness, I just ended up going with an iris because it felt like a think-y kind of flower. Just from what it looked like. A willow symbolizing sadness is something I got off one random website, and I do like pussy willows, but… Apparently, in China, as well as some parts of east Asia, a willow represents happiness and prosperity. Also, in east Europe, among people who follow East Orthodox Christianity, a willow branch is associated with Palm Sunday celebrations. I've never been Christian, but I'm pretty sure Palm Sunday is supposed to be a happy holiday, from the little I do know of it.

So… fuck. A plant that's supposed to be happy and prosperous got pegged for the Sadness Crystal. Insert upset emoji here.

I am many excite for the next chapter, and I'll see y'all then! Thanks again for reading, for all the kudos and follows and favorites, and especially for the reviews! You're all awesome!