When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, "Do you want to get well?" (John 5:6)

Before they left, Lovino went to his room to change. He threw the clothes he had been wearing away, since the blood would likely never come out. Even if it did, he knew he would never be able to wear them again. He would suffocate under the memories weaved into the fabric. By the time he pulled a fresh t-shirt over his head, there was a knock at the door. He didn't even consider shouting. Today, he was simply unable to do it. "Come in."

Feliciano entered the room, so slowly it was as if he was afraid. His face was tearstained and his eyes were bloodshot. When he eventually spoke, he was uncharacteristically quiet. He almost sounded like Matthew. "Are you alright? I mean…are we all right? I mean…" He paused, seemingly to gather his thoughts. "Are you still upset with me?"

Lovino remembered with a pang of guilt that he had yelled at Feliciano shortly before this catastrophe took place. It had been barely eight hours ago, but it felt like lifetimes had passed. He sighed and shook his head. "Come on, Feli," he said. He sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him. Feliciano walked over and sat down.

They sat in comfortable, understanding silence for almost a full minute. Feliciano broke it. "So," he said cautiously. "You love Antonio." He bunched up part of the bedspread in his hand, let it go, and a faint spread came across his lips. "I can't say I'm surprised, really. I thought that for a really long time."

Lovino felt his ears get hot. No matter what had happened, he still wasn't used to speaking about such personal feelings so openly. It was always so much easier to deny and get angry than to admit what he felt. Still, there was no use lying anymore. "Yeah. The bastard kind of grew on me," he mumbled and quickly changed the subject. "I didn't mean what I said earlier, by the way. I don't think your thing with the potato bas-" Lovino quickly stopped himself. "I mean…I don't think your thing with Ludwig is weird. It's not. I was just upset."

Feliciano nodded. "I know." He leaned against Lovino's shoulder, either from fatigue or out of the desire to be close. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? I would have understood, you know."

Lovino shrugged. He still wasn't sure of that answer himself. "I didn't want to admit it. Really, I was scared as hell." He almost smiled. Almost. "Looks like you were the more mature one here, Feli."

Feliciano smiled at the rare compliment, but the smile didn't last for long. "Do you think Toni will be okay?"

Lovino did not want to admit that he had no idea, but there was nothing else to say. "I don't know," he said under his breath. Unable to think of anything else to say, an idea popped in his head that he hadn't considered for years. "How about you pray with me?" Truth be told, Lovino still had no idea if he actually believed in God or not. But right then, it was the only thing he could think to do.

"Okay."

So they prayed, not out of guilt or fear like the church would like them to. They prayed out of nothing but their own will, for strength and courage and most of all- for Antonio. They sat in silence, hands folded in front of them until Roma told them it was time to go.

.

In the back of Roma's car, Feliciano called Ludwig. It took all of five minutes to explain why he had woken him up at three in the morning, and then give an explanation as to what happened to Antonio as vaguely and painlessly as possible. When he was finished, he turned towards Lovino with a sad smile. "Okay, all set."

"What do you mean?" Lovino had barely heard the conversation. All he could concentrate on was the tight ball of nerves resting in his stomach.

"I told Ludwig what happened. He's going to tell Gilbert, then Gilbert will tell Antonio's other friend Francis, then Francis is going to tell Matthew because they're cousins, and then Matthew is going to tell Alfred. Gilbert is going to pile them all in his car somehow, even though there's so many of them, but he has a big car so it's okay. We're going to meet all of them in the lobby," Feliciano said in one breath.

Lovino blinked. In some sick way, the way the news was traveling reminded him of the elementary school game 'telephone.' He wondered how much the information was going to get skewed. More importantly, would Antonio want something so private broadcasted to so many people? "Feli," Lovino said finally. "Do we really need half of the damn country involved in this?"

Feliciano turned his attention to playing with his phone. "Well, I think Antonio would want as much support as possible, don't you? I would want all my friends to come see me if I was in the hospital."

If he's still alive. Lovino shook the thought from his mind. They would cross that bridge when they came to it. Anyway, Feliciano was probably right. Antonio was such a people person. Then, Roma spoke from the driver's seat and broke his train of thought. "I just hope they allow us to visit." Then he paused, and Lovino could see him purse his lips from the rearview mirror. "Lovino…how old is this young man again?"

Lovino sunk further into his seat. He had managed to omit that detail until now. "Twenty-one," he muttered.

"Ah." Roma didn't sound upset, but the little twitch in his eye spoke louder than words. Lovino could only pray that it wouldn't be an issue.

Ten minutes later, Roma parked in the hospital's parking lot. It wasn't until Lovino opened the door and saw the building that reality came swooping down and punched him in the throat yet again. In a very short period of time, his world would either be pieced back together or end completely. Oh God…what would he do if Antonio had died? He would never be able to forgive himself; he wouldn't be able to continue living with that sitting forever on he conscious, nothing would ever be okay again…

Feliciano walked around the car and took his hand. He was always so good at noticing Lovino's distress. "It's okay, Lovi. Let's just go inside."

So they did.

As Feliciano had said, they met the others in the lobby. Sitting between Ludwig and Francis was an albino that Lovino quickly realized must have been Gilbert. Alfred and Matthew were sitting on the floor, talking in rushed, nervous voices. It could be assumed that them along with Ludwig had learned what had happen- as well as the details about Antonio's preexisting condition, to some extent- from Gilbert and Francis. When they caught sight of Feliciano, Lovino and Roma, everyone stood up. For a moment, no one looked as though he knew what to say or how to react.

Alfred finally broke the silence. "Dude." He said the world as more of an exclamation than a reference to anyone. "I had no idea."

As vague as the statement was, everyone looked as though they understood. Even if Feliciano's testament about Antonio's increasing anxiety over the past few weeks was true, no one who knew Antonio would suspect that he had these kinds of demons. It would be an unreasonable assumption, judging by how happy he at least pretended to be. There was a collective nod and a long silence, almost like they were mourning. The moment the word 'mourning' passed through Lovino's thoughts, a cold panic swept through him and he finally spoke.

"Where is he? Does anyone know-" He cursed under his breath and tried again. "Does anyone know if he's…?" But he could not say it. The rest of the sentence did not need to be spoken out loud. The room grew cold and quiet around them.

Francis was the one that dared to speak first. "We got here not too long ago." He twisted a strand of hair between his fingers and adverted his eyes. "We decided to wait for everyone to arrive before we spoke to anyone."

The unspoken implication hung over them like a dark cloud: Misery loves company. If Antonio had died, it would be easier to find out together.

Lovino managed to swallow the thick anxiety in his throat. He spoke even though his head was spinning. "Let's go," he said. "Now."

The nurse at the front desk had short, almost white blonde hair and teal eyes. Her small smile seemed familiar somehow, yet it made her approachable. "Hello, how can I help you today?" She spoke in an accent similar to Ivan's. Maybe that was why she seemed familiar.

Feliciano took Lovino's trembling hand and said nothing. Gilbert was the only one with enough courage to ask the question. "Is Antonio Carriedo here?"

Lovino stopped breathing. He closed his eyes, begged his heartbeat to slow down and tried to prepare himself for the absolute worst, but he could not do it. His heart only allowed him to beg God that the worst had not happened. The anxiety rushing through him and splitting him open made it feel as if he was teetering from the edge of the world. If the worst-case scenario became reality, he was sure he would fall.

The nurse's words seemed to come in slow motion. "Yes. He is right down the hall."

Antonio was alive. Antonio was alive. The truth set in and Lovino exhaled, finally allowing himself to believe it, not having realized until then that he had been holding his breath. The tension hanging in the air broke, fell, and all but disappeared from the spaces around them. The blinding relief Lovino felt was so powerful it nearly knocked him from his feet. During the past few weeks, life was nothing but a blur of grey. Upon hearing these words, it burst back into color.

"Can we see him?" It was Feliciano who spoke, fast and desperate.

The nurse's smile fell. "I am only supposed to allow family members to see him right him."

Lovino didn't even have time to be upset. As if Gilbert had expected this, he threw his arms around Francis and said, "That would be us! We're his awesome brothers," he pointed to himself, Francis, Feliciano, Alfred, Matthew and Ludwig. "That's his grandpa," he pointed to Roma. Finally, he glanced at Lovino. A look of confusion passed over his face before his obnoxious grin returned. "And their relationship is kind of hard to explain." Lovino felt a blush form on his cheeks. He had no idea what Antonio had been telling Gilbert, but apparently it had been enough.

The nurse looked over the group and her face went blank. She was probably thinking about how impossible it was that this strange group of people from five different nationalities, none of which were Spanish, could be in anyway related to Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Lovino half expected for them all to be kicked out, but the nurse smiled knowingly and winked. "Of course. He is in room 104." She giggled like a schoolgirl with a secret and pointed down the hall.

Lovino walked in front of everyone else, unsure whether the urge for isolation or for company was stronger, his entire body trembling and his heart pounding fast and hard against his chest. After twenty seconds that felt like twenty years, he reached the room. The number 104 seemed to be mocking him from where it sat. Lovino froze. The rest of the hospital fell away from him. What if Antonio was angry? What if he didn't want to be saved? Lovino couldn't do this. All that was sitting in front of him was a door, yet it felt like a portal into a different universe he was not sure would accept him.

Feliciano caught up to him and squeezed his shoulder, sending him back to reality. "Open it, Lovi. It's all right. Toni is fine."

Lovino took a deep breath, and without allowing himself one more second to think about it, he turned the knob and opened the door. It took a long while for his eyes to focus in on what was in front of him. He stood there in silence as everyone else gathered around him, peering through the door with nervous, quick glances. Antonio was sitting up in bed and looking out the window, a scar on his left arm and gauze around the other…and he was smiling. He was on death's doorstep the night before, and the crazy bastard was smiling. Lovino came to the slow realization that this was exactly why he loved him.

Tears filled Lovino's eyes. He refused to let them fall. "You crazy bastard..."

Antonio turned and looked towards the door. His eyes widened in shock. "You came." He blinked away his shock, but his smile did not return. Instead of happy or sad or even shocked, he looked ashamed. "You all came."

Life exploded back into regular time. Francis and Gilbert burst through the door and rushed to Antonio's bedside, rambling incoherently. Feliciano followed not long after, trailed closely by Roma. Matthew, Alfred and Ludwig were more timid, walking calmly inside after them. Lovino stood in the doorway, not moving, not thinking. It didn't take long for a faint anger to appear inside of him, slowly rising like water boiling over the pot. In the midst of all the chatter, his voice was the loudest. "What the hell is your problem?"

The room went silent. Lovino finally remembered how to use his body again. He walked to Antonio's bedside with heavy, thundering steps, fully intent on tearing into him like no one ever had. Once he got there, Lovino froze again. He could have done a lot of things- he could have slapped him, swore at him, or ranted on for about five lifetimes about how stupid he was for doing what he did. Then Antonio looked up at him with those damn apologetic eyes that were so very alive, and Lovino knew he couldn't do any of that. So instead, he did something he would probably never live down- he sunk to his knees and cried.

Antonio reached out and touched his shoulders. The warmth of his skin made it all that more real. This was not a dream. "Lovi." He said his name so carefully; it was as if he was afraid to break it. He paused for a long moment- really, what could he say? His next words were simple, but held worlds of meaning. "Thank you."

Lovino finally looked up and wiped his eyes in a quick, jerking motion. He could be sure if the storm brewing in his body was relief, sadness or anger. All he knew was the emotion had managed to asphyxiate him. "What is wrong with you?" Still on his knees, he punched Antonio in the shoulder. "How could you do this, Antonio? Why would you do this?" He felt the panic he thought was gone creep back into his bloodstream. He thought about hitting Antonio again, but instead only grabbed his shoulder to reminder himself again that this was real. Alive, alive, alive… Suddenly, it didn't matter that there were seven other people in the room. He had almost lost Antonio. Nothing else mattered. "Shit, I…I fucking love you, goddammit!"

"Alright, who wants to take a tour of the hospital?" Gilbert swung both his arms around in giant circles and pointed at the door. "Come on, everyone! The awesome me will be your guild! Out, out, out!"

Thank you, Gilbert. The not so subtle hint was taken immediately, and everyone besides Lovino and Antonio exited the room despite entering just moments ago. Once they were out in the hall, Gilbert leaned in the door. He looked far too happy, given the circumstances. "You're welcome, Antonio!"

The door closed, and they were alone. Lovino rose to his feet, embarrassed by his outburst but too emotional to care. The thought that echoed relentlessly in his head since the night before finally became words. "It was because of me, wasn't it?" he said. "You did this because of me."

"What? Lovino, no. Look at me." Antonio reached out and touched Lovino's arm. Lovino slowly turned towards him, but did not look him in the eye. "Lovino, you are absolutely not allowed to think this was your fault. This happened because of my own stupidity."

Why was Antonio lying to him? Lovino scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

Antonio did not release his grip. "Gilbert and Francis are probably going to kill me," he said. Lovino winced at the irony. "Long story short, I stopped taking my medication and I've been missing my therapy appointments. I thought I was getting better. Obviously, I was wrong."

Suddenly, it all made sense. The pieces of the puzzle snapped into place, and Lovino understood. "Oh." With the tornado of emotion spinning wildly in his body, it was all he could say. "You shouldn't have done that," he finished lamely.

Antonio sighed. "I know, I know. It was horribly stupid of me." He glanced at his bandaged arm and immediately looked away. "I thought I had failed everyone. I've thought that for a very long time, old thoughts had come back, and on top of that, I thought I hurt you in the process…" Antonio broke off, sighed, and looked at the floor. "It wasn't planned. Last night when I called you, I had been having panic attacks almost nonstop for hours, I…I broke, Lovino. I'm so, so sorry."

The mental image was terrible. Lovino closed his eyes, wishing with all his might that it would go away, wishing that he could shoulder all this pain so Antonio didn't have to. When neither of the wishes came true, he sat down on the edge of the bed out of fear that he might faint otherwise. He kept his distance, not ready to be close just yet. "Why did you call me?" he asked finally, keeping his eyes locked on the floor. "You could have called Gilbert or Francis, or someone in your family…hell, Alfred would have been a better choice than me."

Antonio reached out and grabbed the hand that Lovino had let sit idly on the bed. "Believe me, there was no one else I would have rather spoken to. I wanted to hear your voice one last time." The grip on his hand tightened. "I wanted yours to be the last I heard. I certainly didn't expect you to do what you did." He stopped speaking again, and finally finished quietly. "You saved my life, Lovino."

One last time, the last I heard, saved my life… That did it. Having been reminded yet again how close he had come to losing him; Lovino could not stop himself from tearing up yet again and growing ashamed right afterwards. Why did this always have to happen in front of Antonio? Had last night not been enough? This was so embarrassing, how did Feliciano do it every five minutes? Through all of it, Lovino felt a twinge of what was almost…pride. He had, to some extent, saved Antonio's life. But some small part of him was still convinced he was the one that nearly caused it to end. These clashing emotions were too powerful, too suffocating. "Just… just shut up, Antonio, stop, please…"

"Dios, Lovino, I am so sorry." One gentle tug of the hand later, Lovino allowed himself to fall into Antonio's arms. The feeling reminded him of the semi-embrace on the bathroom floor just hours ago. He instantly became nauseated, but made no attempts to break away. He felt safe like this. Antonio's skin was warm, the color had returned. Alive, alive, alive… After a long pause, Antonio crossed his arms over Lovino's chest and spoke again. "As grateful as I am for what you did, I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for putting you through that, for letting you see that…do you think you'll be alright, Lovi?"

"Stop it!" Again, Lovino did not make an attempt to move from his arms. After almost losing him, he never wanted to move from Antonio's side again. Instead, he maneuvered his body somewhat awkwardly until he was the facing the other way. "God, Antonio, what is your problem? You almost died last night, and you're asking if I'm all right? That isn't normal, bastard! I mean oh my God, really!"

"I'm sorry-"

"Stop that, too!"

There was a gap in conversation, as if Antonio could not think of anything else to say besides the two forbidden phrases. Lovino closed his eyes and concentrated on the rising and falling of Antonio's chest on his back. Alive, alive, alive… It wasn't until Antonio spoke that Lovino was broken out of his trance. "Lovi…you haven't looked me in the eye since you got here," he said slowly. "Do you hate me for this?"

Lovino was sure he had never heard a more ridiculous question. He hated the situation, he hated Antonio's illness, but he could never hate Antonio. "No." He still did not look him in the eye. He felt silly, even embarrassed, but he was sure looking him in the eye would hurt too much. All he could do with repeat his same words. "No, I don't hate you." Translation: I love you too damn much.

"Then why won't you look at me?" Antonio did not sound accusatory or angry. If anything, he sounded either confused or hurt or both.

Lovino could not stand that dejected voice. He had no choice but to tell him. "It's because…" He stopped, took a breath, and forced himself to tell the truth. "Whenever I look at you, all I can see is what you looked like when you were nearly dead, alright?"

"Oh." Antonio said the word in a sigh. "I don't look like that anymore."

And thank God for that. "I know that! I'm not an idiot!"

"No, you certainly are not." Antonio almost sounded like he was laughing again. Instead of pressing the matter, he rested his chin on Lovino's head and sighed into the silence. Lovino realized his touch filled him with a comfortable warmth rather than an electric spark. Antonio continued only after they had the chance to enjoy the comfortable quiet. When he did speak, the ambiance seemed lighter. "Hey, you said something when you came in. Did you mean that?" His words sounded slightly playful. It was just like him to somehow find the joy in such a bleak place.

Lovino looked out the window, his mind nearly blank. "I said a lot of things when I came in. It was embarrassing."

"You said it last night, too."

Memory hit, and Lovino suddenly understood. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach warped in nausea. "Never talk about last night again." That was all he could say. It had been so easy to say those three words to Antonio then, when everything was at stake and he thought it would be his last chance. Not that he was here, alive and safe with him…Lovino felt as if he lost the ability to form the words. Still, he knew he needed to say something. There was no sense in reverting back to square one. "Yes. I meant it," he said as quietly as he could.

Without warning, Antonio squeezed him tighter. "Aw, Lovi!" he cooed. "Can you say it again? Please?"

"What? Calm down, idiot!" Lovino rapidly grew flustered. "You heard what I said; I said it like a million times! Why do you need to hear it again?"

"You only said it three times. Besides, it sounds so nice coming from you!" Antonio nuzzled his face into Lovino's hair like an overly affectionate dog. "Okay, fine. I'll say it first. I love you. I love you!"

The three words struck deeper than anything Lovino had ever heard. But through the buzz of joy, he felt a pang of doubt. "Then why did you say you didn't mean it the first time?" It was such a weight off his shoulders to ask after all this time. "Why did you say you were sorry? Why did you pull away?"

Antonio's excited frenzy abruptly ended. His response sounded like it was coming from the distance. "It wasn't that I didn't mean it when I said I loved you. I did, and I still do," he said. "But I'm technically supposed to be a role model, Lovino. I felt like I violated you. The absolute last thing I would want is to force myself on you." There was a pause, as if he couldn't find the right words. "You did make it pretty clear that you were not happy about it, though. So, I am a bit confused now."

Lovino remembered the terrible things he had said and filled almost unbearably with shame. If only he had taken a moment to try and understand rather than exploding. "No," he said quickly. "No, it wasn't that. I reacted like that because…because…" This was so embarrassing, so disgraceful. He felt so ridiculously petty. Lovino twisted his hands together, not sure what to do now that he was expected to spill all these feelings at once. "Dammit, it was because I thought you didn't really mean it. Everything you said about me, all that you said you felt… you acted like the whole thing was a fucking mistake. I didn't understand…" And I still don't. Lovino closed his eyes briefly. "…Why you would choose me."

Lovino felt Antonio lurch back, as if the explanation came as a shock. "Oh." He sounded calm. Too calm. "I think you should look at me now, Lovino."

Well, that seemed irrelevant. "What?"

"Please?"

Lovino sighed. It was a simple enough request, too simple to justifiably refuse. He nodded reluctantly and Antonio dropped his arms. He shifted his body, took a moment to breathe, and finally looked up. When their eyes met, Lovino realized Antonio had been right along. Now that he was staring back into his eyes and their sparkle had returned, all of this suddenly felt that much more real. Antonio was so, so alive.

"Now, Lovino." Lovino felt his heart speed up when Antonio touched his cheek. God, did he have to look at him like that? It was as if Antonio saw him as his entire world. "I can promise you that none of that was a mistake. I could sit here for about a hundred years and explain every detail of why you were the one to take my heart, but it is really quite simple. You are beautiful, you are amazing, and I love you with all my heart."

Lovino realized in a rush of bliss that Antonio probably did see him as his entire world. Those eyes could not tell lies. He did not have to respond, since a tiny part of him could guess what was coming. Antonio brought his other arm behind his back, pulled him close, and finally kissed him. Lovino kissed him back. Oh God, he kissed him back. This time there was no shock, and he got the privilege to notice all that had flown over his head before: the softness of Antonio's lips, the way his dark curls felt between his fingers and the warm touch of his hand on his face. When Antonio's lips parted, he thought he would combust from the pure ecstasy of it all.

Yes, this was it. In the midst of this terrible place, in the aftermath of this horrible situation, everything was suddenly perfect. Every second of pain, anger, confusion, denial and fear had lead up to this breathtaking moment- and it had all been worth it. No matter what he would eventually decide that he believed, Lovino knew that he was looking into the very face of his own personal heaven.

When the kiss ended, Lovino cleared his throat and looked away. His skin continued to buzz and his heart still beat wildly. "Not going to say sorry this time?"

Antonio chuckled. "Nope. Not going to call me any names?"

Lovino managed to smirk. "Not so fast, bastard."

It became noticeable that Antonio was blushing, too. He could look so, so young. His next words proved that even further. "I cannot believe I'm admitting this," he said, bringing a hand to his head and looking away. "That day after group, Lovino…that was my first kiss."

Lovino stared at him in pure disbelief for a few seconds. Antonio certainly didn't seem inexperienced. For that matter, how could someone who acted like Antonio- who looked like Antonio- make it to his early twenties without so much as a kiss? Then, Lovino could not help it. For the first time in forever, he laughed. He felt the tension he had been feeling roll off his back like water. "Really?" he asked in the midst of his laughing. "You do realize you're twenty-one, right? Loser."

Antonio's hand flew to his chest in mock horror. "Hey! I would assume it was the same for you."

"No, I played seven minutes in heaven when I was thirteen." Lovino attempted to make it sound triumphant, but it ended up sounding ridiculous and petty. Oh well, what difference did it make? "That…that doesn't count, does it?"

Antonio suppressed a laugh. "For the sake of my ego, no."

Lovino looked up, his embarrassment fading away and his chest swelling with joy. Despite the awful circumstances, he realized this was the best moment of his life. Not a second later, he realized he was finally, finally, finally ready. "Oh," he said, the exclamation rather out-of-the-blue. His next statement was even more so, but it felt like the best timing possible. "And… I, um, love you, idiot. Happy now?"

Antonio lit up like the lights in Vegas. "Yes, Lovi!" He threw his arms around his shoulders in a frenzied hug. "I love you too. I love you so, so much."

Lovino finally came to the conclusion that he believed his words, and felt a warm swelling in his chest. He waited until he let ago before he finally spoke. "Alright, alright. Calm down," he muttered. Then he looked up, his eyes dark and serious. "Listen. If we're going to do…whatever this is, you have to promise me something."

"Anything, Lovino."

"Promise me," said Lovino. He realized his voice was shaking, but gave it no mind. "That you will never, ever do this again. If you want to… be with me, you have to take your damn pills and go to your appointments."

Antonio took Lovino's hands in his. "Now that I have you to worry about, I wouldn't dream of letting my health slip again."

Lovino just about ripped his hands away. "Don't just do it for me!" he said. "Do for your friends, for everyone else you know, for yourself! Do it because it's smart, Antonio. Don't be an idiot…" because the world needs you. He felt his anger wash away with the thought, the feeling soon replaced by the overwhelming need to prevent this kind of pain from happening again. Lovino looked away and spoke as softly as the wind. "If you feel the need to do this again, just come find me."

Antonio nodded in understanding. "Alright. I think I can do that," he said. He pressed a kiss to the top of Lovino's head as if to seal a pact. "Then it's settled."

As though someone had timed it, there was a pounding at the door. "Knock, knock!" The voice was Gilbert's. "The tour is over, put your clothes back on!"

Lovino felt a rush of embarrassment and immediately clamored to his feet. Antonio just laughed. "Come on in."

The minute Gilbert opened the door, all hell broke loose.

The next half hour passed in a blur of conversation and confusion. The numb shock and short-lived relief everyone had evidently been feeling finally gave way to grief, and to some extent, anger. It seemed as though no one but Lovino- the one that actually saw it happen- had actually registered the situation prier to Gilbert opening the door. In that half hour, there was always someone crying (usually Feliciano), someone asking questions (usually Francis), someone shouting (usually Gilbert), and a group of people that could only sit in silence (everyone else)- all at the same time. Lovino sat on the edge of the bed, sometimes answering questions that forced him to relive the previous night. After he answered them, he was always immediately subjected to unwanted physical affection.

Once everyone had more or less calmed down and a series of apologies were said, there were a few minutes of silence. Roma took advantage of it. When he finally moved from his position against the wall, the people in the room parted like the red sea. Roma always did have such a demanding presence. Once he reached Antonio's bedside, he extended his hand as calmly as could be. "Hello, Antonio. I don't think I've introduced myself properly."

Antonio took his hand and shook it. He smiled, but looked slightly confused. "No, I don't believe you have."

Roma smiled back, still without releasing his hand. "You can call me Roma. I'm Feliciano and Lovino's grandfather."

"Oh!" A look of shock passed over Antonio's face, and it was clear to see that his posture had stiffened. Lovino saw the blush that took residence on his cheeks, but he managed to sound as confident as ever. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I do apologize it has to be under these conditions."

"No, no. That's all right. I wish you a full recovery." Then, Roma visibly tightened his grip on Antonio's hand. "Lovino informed me about the nature of your relationship."

Lovino felt his face get hot. "Grandpa!"

Antonio just blinked. "Oh." He managed to will away his shocked expression and smiled again. "I promise that I intend to treat your grandson with utmost respect."

"No worries there, Antonio. You seem like a respectable young man. I have no problem with the relationship." Roma was still smiling, but there was a glint of fire in his eyes. He must have tightened his grip again, because Antonio jumped. "Do remember that Lovino is still underage."

Lovino could have died when the implication sunk in. Antonio nodded vehemently, his eyes wide and unblinking. "Yes, of course."

"Excellent." With that, Roma dropped his hand. Antonio looked relieved.

Gilbert snickered quietly, and Lovino shot him a death glare on instinct. But through all of his embarrassment, he could feel nothing but relief. Antonio was alive. Roma approved of them. Everything- aside from the chilling atmosphere the previous night had caused- was finally starting to feel in place. Minutes after Roma's introduction that felt more like a threat; a doctor emerged through the door, took in the group of people with a look of surprise, and then promptly threw them out.

When everyone was standing outside the hospital's doors, their expressions a mixture of bewilderment and relief, Gilbert had only one thing to say. "I'm starving. We're going to breakfast."

To be continued...