A/N: Hello! Yes, I haven't updated in a while, time just got away from me... I apologize for anyone that thought this would be discontinued, I promise I will finish this story, don't worry.

Anyways, please enjoy! Next chapter is Lovino's homecoming, Antonio's going to be very excited, hehe. On a side note, good luck to anyone that still has exams! Study hard!

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own Hetalia or any brand names I mention

Lovino pressed his forehead against the plane window, watching as his home country slowly came into view. Without realizing it a smile tugged on the Italian's lips as sprawled out mansions, arched and domed buildings, and beautiful statues started to form out of the blur of land. It was a sunny day, the sky a bright cobalt blue with not a cloud in sight, and strips of white sand beaches and lush green vineyards could be seen as the place descended. Next to him, Feliciano was bursting with excitement.

"I can't believe we're finally here! Oh, this is so exciting! I can't wait to eat real pasta again, with real sauce, and with real gelato, and with real coffee and with real..." Lovino tuned out of his brother's ramblings of food (of course that was what the idiot was most excited about) as the pilot's voice came on the loud speaker. It was clear he was a native to Italy seeing as he spoke in a thick, Italian accent.

"Hello! Welcome to Italy! The weather is 85 degrees and sunny, lucky you!" Lovino rolled his eyes at the overly cheerful greeting and watched as the tourists around them smiled happily and peered out the windows. "We hope you had a great flight, and from everyone on the flight crew, thank you and have a great stay!"

"Aren't you excited Lovi?" Feliciano said as he clutched his brother's arm.

Before the elder brother could respond the pilot came on again, this time speaking in a more relaxed and natural tone. "Ciao! Benvenuti in Italia! Il clima è di 29 gradi e sole, che è una fortuna per voi! Speriamo che hai avuto un grande volo, e da tutti sul dell'equipaggio di volo, grazie ed abbia un ottimo soggiorno!"

Both brothers seemed to perk up slightly at the sound of their native language and Feliciano's smile widened. "So? Are you?" He pressed as they felt the plane swerved downwards as it descended.

"Of course I fucking am, idiota," Lovino said as he tried to pry Feliciano's fingers off his arm because fuck he had a tight grip what the hell.

Seeming satisfied for the moment, Feliciano pecked his cheek before releasing his arm only to start stuffing the small packets of cookies they had gotten on the flight into his carry-on before 'the mean flighty people tell me I wasn't suppose to take so many, ve!'

With his brother facing away, Lovino allowed an expression of worry to flash over his face. He was excited. Of course he fucking was. But he was nervous, too. He knew his brother was probably more nervous than he was, but Feliciano had been bubbly and smiling ever since he heard the news that they would be going to Italy. Lovino had been worried about him, asking several times if he would be okay traveling with his cane and if he was okay with the whole Nonno's house shit and if he was okay going for so long without therapy. He had insisted countless times that he would be fine, and Lovino should stop worrying, and this would be a 'fun, magical bonding time for both of them!'.

Lovino quickly relaxed his face again as his brother finished his crime, giggling softly to himself as he smiled innocently at a suspicious looking flight attendant that was walking by at the moment. Lovino pinched his side lightly. "Fucking thief," he said in a mock disgusted voice. The younger simply sent him a sickly sweet smile and shrugged in a way that showed he really didn't care.

The plane dipped down suddenly and hit the ground with a small jolt, and cheers echoed through the plane. As it eventually rolled to a stop, the sounds of seat belts being undone and bags being grabbed filled the plane, as well as the excited chattering of vacationers, business men, and people returning to their home.

Feliciano quickly snapped off his buckle, squirming around in his seat excitedly as people began to file out of the plane. Lovino sighed. "Calm the fuck down and grab your cane, idiota." His younger brother giggled and slid it out from under the seats, slowly getting out as Lovino slid out shortly after, grabbing both their suitcases. "Let's go."

For the record, it was pretty fucking hard holding two suitcases while disembarking a plane, especially when there were a hell of a lot of impatient people swarming behind you. Lovino muttered curses under his breath as he maneuvered the two cases through the way too narrow aisle until he managed to get off the plane, ignoring the pilot who said a cheerful goodbye. Feliciano was close behind, the two backpacks on his back and the cane tightly hold in his hand as he chirped a goodbye to the pilot in Italian.

"Alright. Keep your eyes out- stop looking at the gelato stand, idiota- we're supposed to have a driver pick us up..." To show their gratitude for the two brother's traveling all the way to Italy in consideration of their offer, the family had rented them a fucking taxi to take them to the house from the airport, where they would stay the night and wait a few days until they met the family one afternoon for lunch.

After a few minutes of looking (pretty much by his fucking self since Feliciano was too damn busy looking at every little Italian thing), the nurse spotted a rather short, red faced man clutching a sign with the name 'Vargas' written in thick black cursive letters.

"There he is... C'mon..." Lovino elbowed Feliciano none too gently and nodded towards the man.

After introductions and the person reassuring them (mostly Lovino) that the family was very nice and excited to meet them the next day, he took their bags and led them to the car. The whole time both brother's had their eyes glued out the window, taking in the sights of their home country- couples zooming by on brightly colored Vespas, girls flirting with tourists sitting under umbrellas at cafés, merchants roaming around and attempting to sell their goods.

"It's beautiful, no?" Their driver asked, chuckling at the two Italians.

A while later they turned out of the bustling city and into the countryside, towards the sea. Feliciano had fallen asleep in the back seat, and when the driver started to pull up the winding driveway to the Vargas house, Lovino turned around and shook his shoulder.

"Ve...?" The younger Italian stirred and blinked in confusion, rubbing his eyes as the car eased to a stop in front of the old house. His sleepiness immediately disappeared as he peered out the window and a smile spread across his face. "We're here!" He squealed, leaning forwards to clutch onto Lovino's arm excitedly, causing the older brother to wince.

"Yeah, I fucking know, now let go you little-"

"Look! There's my room's window! And yours! And look, there's that chip in the side walk from when Nonno dropped the axe he ordered! And there's that crack on the door from when I tripped and hit my head on it! And there's-!" Lovino ignored his brother's ramblings as he looked at his old house, slowly getting out of the car now lost in his own memories.

It was big. A hell of a lot bigger than the apartment that the two brothers shared now. It had a cobblestone pathway leading up to the door, vines creeping up the walls, and thick windows made of hand made glass. Lovino smiled slightly when he saw the small crack in the corner of one of them from the time he had been playing catch with Feli and the other missed the ball. He could see the spot left by missing stone on the pathway, since their Nonno had taken it off and threw it in a tree to try and get their kite down one time. He could see the dent in one of the wooden columns in front of the door from the one time Nonno had driven his friend's Vespa into it.

Okay, so the house wasn't in perfect condition. But they were a family of clumsy Italians, what the hell did you expect? Besides, every scratch on the paint, every dent in the doors, every crack on the windows had some sort of ridiculous fucking memory that didn't fail to bring a faint smile to Lovino's face.

Fuck. Now he sounded like an old man. Whatever.

The driver got out, helped them with their bags, accepted the measly tip Lovino managed to fish out of his pocket, and drove away. Feliciano beamed at him when he turned to face him, leaning on his cane. "It looks the same..." The younger Italian said fondly, shifting to view the house. Both brothers stood there for a moment before Feliciano seemed to snap out of his calm spell. "Well, what are we waiting for, ve? Let's go!" He said as he started to hobble towards the door, Lovino following behind with the bags.

"Slow down you little brat, I'm still carrying all this shit!" Seriously, what did Feliciano pack? Rocks? Weights? Potatoes? Ew, he probably did. Stupid, German potatoes that he packed to remind him of that annoying Ludwig bastardo. And they were probably all lumpy and strong and emotionless like him.

Stupid Ludwig.

As they finally made it up the steps (which was much harder than Lovino would have liked to fucking admit but oh well), Feliciano opened the door and went to look at his old room while Lovino dragged the bags upstairs. He dropped of Feli's then headed to his old room, plopping down on his cold, dusty bed. The room was bare save for his old furniture and a few things he didn't find important enough to bring to America, but now seemed like important relics of his old life here. The nurse flopped on his back, staring up at the ceiling as he let out a sigh.

He could hear Feliciano excitedly moving around in his old room, letting out excited cheers and squeals as he looked through his old objects, with a few crashes here and there as he tossed some old memory aside for a new one. He could hear the gentle Italian breeze causing the leaves on the trees outside to rustle against each other. He could hear the faint sound of waves lapping at the shore. He could hear nature and his brother and Italy.

This was going to be an interesting trip.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:- Time skip -:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"Antonio, mon ami, you have to stop this!" A very annoyed, very concerned French accent was the only noise that could be heard in room 485, despite the fact that there were three people crowded inside. This was partially because a certain albino had fallen asleep not thirty minutes after he had arrived (thanks a lot, you worthless little Prussian Francis thought for the millionth time), and partially because the patient himself was refusing to respond, let alone acknowledge his doctor.

At first, Francis thought that it was normal. Everyone could see Antonio liked Lovino, so why wouldn't he be sad? Sure, refusing to talk or eat or move or even show any emotion at all was a bit extreme but then again Antonio had always struck Francis as a drama queen kind of guy.

Not more than the Frenchman himself, though. He was the drama queen. And don't you forget it.

Anyways, after the first day or two, Francis started getting more concerned. He brought in tomatoes, he tried to get Bella in to talk to him, he offered to take him for a walk outside, he told him that Ludwig would be upset if he didn't to his therapy, he threatened to molest him during his bath.

Nothing.

Antonio remained silent and motionless, his eyes holding a deep kind of sorrow that made your heart clench and your breath catch and your eyes water. His face, though, was as emotionless as ever, his limbs remained limp at his side, his unfocused eyes glossed over with unshed tears, his lips parted for steady breathing, and for all the world he looked like some sort of doll that a child had thrown away to rot in a dumpster alone for the rest of eternity.

And Francis didn't know what to do.

He was a doctor for physical problems, not mental. Normally, if this were some other patient, he would throw him into therapy and hope for the best. But he liked Antonio, and cared for the cheerful Spaniard, so he was trying.

"Antonio..."

As expected, all the blonde got in response to his statement was a slow blink of heavy eyelids over glazed over green eyes. He puffed out his cheeks in frustration. Antonio had been doing so well on his road to recovery- improving his talking, movements, coordination, walking skills, everything, really. But now he was falling back. Hard.

Physically he was fine. Francis had managed to get Gilbert to open his mouth and make him chew and swallow his food every meal time while he force fed him. He got him out and about in his wheelchair, trying to convince him to walk every time even though he had continually ignored him, but in the end he got some fresh air and sun.

But mentally...

Francis sighed. No. His friend was not fine mentally. And it was all Lovino's fault. Not that the little, grumpy, feisty but yes, good looking Italian knew it or even meant to do it. Francis bit his lip as he thought about Lovino. He knew he couldn't call him because he was in a different country. The Italian never answered his emails so that was pointless, and he had no laptop so they couldn't Skype.

As Francis was deep in thought on how to communicate with Antonio's little soon to he lover (he had a bet riding on it so they better hook up soon), Gilbert seemed to decide it would be a good idea to wake up.

With a yawn, he sauntered over to the bed and stared down at Antonio with bored, red eyes. "Toni..." He shook his head, stretching his arms above his head. "Unawesome, m-man. Unawesome."

Francis shot him a weak glare. "Well, you've been no help! You just come here and sleep and poke him!" He said as he briefly wondered how Lovino had ever managed to handle the dramatic Spaniard.

Gilbert shrugged as he sat on the edge of Antonio's bed, squishing his friend's feet. "I s-still say he needs beer," he said as he poked the green eyed patient's stomach a few times, managing to gain a small puff of air from him that differed from his regular breathing.

Francis swatted his hands away. "We've been over this. No beer," he said firmly, ignoring Gilbert's whine. "We have to get him to see Lovino somehow..."

Gilbert could've sworn that he felt Antonio stiffen under him, and for the first time in a while the self proclaimed Prussian was struck with a good idea. A great idea. A brilliant idea. An awesome idea.

He cleared his throat and, brushing off Francis' confused and slightly suspicious stare, he pretended to pat Antonio's leg sympathetically. "I dunno, Francy Pants. Ya s-see, Mattie told me that if a-a patient gets worse over time th-that they assume it's the medical st-staff's fault and they just give 'em new nurses and doctors and all that shit," he said sadly, holding back a smirk when he noticed Antonio stiffen even more.

At first an utterly confused look passed over Francis' face and he opened his mouth to say something but suddenly seemed to understand what Gilbert was getting at, and his stance immediately change.

"Ah, oui," the blonde said as he grabbed the chair that visitors usually sat in and slumped into it, allowing a look of distress to cover his face. "It'll be so heart breaking to see our dear little Lovino return to find an empty bed..."

Antonio blinked again, his eyes clearing as he shifted slightly, his head facing Francis as he narrowed his eyes at him, a touch of panic in those green orbs. Francis pretended not to notice.

"And Antonio will be sent away and we'll get someone to replace him. I'm sure Lovino will be very good at giving baths and hair cuts and tomatoes to our new patient," Francis continued while twirling a lock of his hair between his fingers.

Now that drew more of a reaction out of Antonio. The Spaniard made a noise of half anger, half sadness and he wrinkled his nose. "F-franny...? S'that r-really true?" He mumbled softly, and Gilbert could have cheered. Oh, he was so awesome, him and his ideas. He deserved a medal, really.

Francis tried not to grin himself as he solemnly nodded. "You've been relapsing hard. Refusing therapy, refusing food, refusing to speak." Although he did just talk now, but that wasn't the point. "You may never see Lovino again."

Oh, he was a terrible person. A cruel, cruel person. The look of absolute terror and pure despair that covered Antonio's face, his first emotion showed in days, was enough to make any sane person want to take back what they said and beg for forgiveness. And Francis was about to do something of the sort before Gilbert butted in.

"Lovi will be s-soooo disappointed in you," the albino stated. "H-he told me bef-fore he left how proud he was-" Lies. "-and that he e-expected you to be gettin' a hell of a lot better wh-when he got back-" More lies. "-and that he w-wanted you greeting him standing u-up with a huge fuckin' smile and a tomato and a hug." Lies. Again. But really, would Lovino mind that last lie? Probably not.

Antonio's eyes widened at the words and he quickly started to struggle to get up, which Francis helped him with while silently marveling at Gilbert's heartlessness and amazing lying skills.

"N-noo! Th-that can't- that can't-! No!" The Spaniard gasped with a panicky voice as his shaky arms threw off the thin blanket that had been covering him. His lack of therapy was catching up and already his tongue felt too awkward and heavy in his mouth, his limbs seemed to have a mind of their own as if they had been detached from his body, his whole figure seemed to be weak and out of coordination. Shaky fingers curled around the edges of the bed as Antonio took several deep breaths. This was hard, and admittedly, it hurt.

But really, this was Antonio. If Lovino wanted something from Antonio, he would go to the ends of the earth and back to get it.

He really didn't know why, to he honest. He had had too many doctors and nurses to count. He remembered some, forgot others. They varied from tall and lean women with bleached hair and too much lipstick to short and squat men that smelled of cigars and always checked his vitals in the roughest ways. Some have been mean, some have been nice, some have just done their job with no emotion. To them, Antonio was just another lost cause, a patient with money that was going to waste because he would never get better.

And then there was Lovino.

He had talked to Antonio- actually talked. He didn't talk to him like he was a two year old kid that didn't understand him or in a mocking way or like he was talking to himself and Antonio was just an object sitting there that was made to solely listen to his life problems and nothing else.

No, he had talked. And Antonio felt like a human again. He didn't feel like a worthless lump of muscles and bones and blood. He didn't feel like a lost cause, a broken beyond repair patient, a hopeless case.

And that made him want to talk back so badly, to talk to this grumpy but sincere and pure and wonderful man. So for the first time since the accident he tried.

He tried to get better. He tried eating, and moving, and talking. He tried making friends. He tried to recover all for Lovino.

And the more he did this, the more he felt for the nurse. He admired him, because of his patience and hidden strength and his heart. He thought he was drop dead beautiful and adorable when he was mad and that he had the best eyes in the world. He loved when they were alone and they would talk about everything from the sky to the center of the world, and how at the end of each day Lovino would threaten him not to tell anyone about those conversations or he would castrate him.

But Lovino was gone now. Sure, he was coming back, but for Antonio it was so hard. Lovino was his light, his inspiration, his purpose and without having him near or seeing him or touching him made Antonio's will to continue crumble.

But the actual thought of not seeing the Italian ever again...

A shudder ran through his body. No. That could never ever ever ever happen! Lovi needed to stay with him! And he would make sure he would be proud when he got back.

Because he needed Lovino. Even if Lovino didn't need him.

Seeing the hard determination shine in their friend's face, a Frenchman and a Prussian exchanged smirks of victory.

"Let's do this."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:- Time skip -:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"Hurry, hurry! I don't want to be late!" Feliciano said as he ushered his older brother to the waiting taxi that would bring them to the family who wanted to buy the house. Feli was a nervous wreck. He had forced Lovino into a fancy, olive green collared shirt while he put a sky blue one on himself. He made sure their hair looked good, their shoes weren't scuffed, their pants weren't wrinkled. He had been running around all morning, fussing over small things in the house to distract himself from the upcoming meeting. Now that it was here, Lovino was afraid he would faint when he actually met the family.

"Calm down," Lovino hissed as he slid inside the car and buckled himself in, scowling at his brother who scrambled in on the other side, wincing as the cane hit his leg. "And don't go swinging that fucking thing around," he snapped as he rubbed his leg. He was nervous too, although his nerves were showing trough his short temper and snappy responses to everything his brother did rather than Feliciano's fluttering motions and fast sentences. He couldn't help it, though! They were going to meet a family that may or may not take over the very house the two brothers had spent their lives in. It was a big fucking deal. To Italians keeping land from family was an important thing, and selling it to a bunch a strangers was a rare and looked down upon action.

But what could they do? They were running low on money, there was no denying it now. Feliciano still had hospital bills to pay off added to his therapy classes and his medicine, having an apartment wasn't cheap, food prices were going up, all this shit was happening and money was, sadly, the only fucking solution.

Feliciano murmured an apology and hugged his cane to his chest as the taxi peeled away from the house, the driver being a true Italian and paying no fucking mind to the speed limit as he drove down the busy Italian streets to the awaiting family.

The ride there was tense and awkward and nervous. The driver paid the two brothers no mind as he drove around like a fucking maniac, heading towards the city. People in Vespas whipped by clusters of Italians sipping their daily cappuccinos outside of their favorite cafés. Children laughed as they kicked their soccer balls past old Italian men playing cards outside. Gossiping women strode past street vendors who promised them the best sales on leather in all of Italy.

They were in Italy. A country of love and passion and romance. A country of history and pain and joy. A place that Lovino loved with all his heart and dammit even now as they were in it he already missed it because he knew he couldn't stay. He missed the smell of pasta mingling with cannolis cooking. He missed the constant beeping of horns as people drove past each other. He missed the snippets of Italian he heard as people passed by.

Why did they have to leave in the first place? Stupid Nonno. This was all his fucking fault.

Lovino didn't have too much time to get lost in his thoughts, though, because pretty soon they arrived outside a rather nice looking building and Lovino took a moment to silently thank his annoying as fuck brother for making sure they actually did look good for the occasion.

The driver nodded at them as they got out before zooming away before Lovino could even offer a tip, and soon they were standing outside the doors of the building. Feliciano bit his lip nervously and glanced over at his brother, and Lovino could tell he was looking for some sort of stability from him. So the elder Italian straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin up. "C'mon, idiota. Let's go."

Feliciano smiled slightly and nodded, following after Lovino as he approached the doors, not having to open them since a gloved doorman opened them for the brothers. Lovino panicked for a moment since he realized he had no fucking idea where they were supposed to go past the front doors, but he realized they wouldn't have to worry because a tall man in a loose button down shirt was standing near the elevators, and as soon as he laid eyes on the two brothers a warm smile covered his face.

The man strode over, his smile widening as he took in the two of them. Lovino had to resist the urge to fidget cause damn, he was tall. Like towering over them tall. "Lovino? Feliciano?" Both brothers hesitantly nodded at the mention of their names and before Lovino could react he was suddenly enveloped in a hug, causing him to let out a rather unmanly squeak of surprise. He was released only to have two kisses planted on his cheeks before the man moved to Feliciano and repeat the process.

"What the fu-" Lovino was cut off by an elbow from Feliciano, who turned to beam at the man.

"Ciao! Me and my fratello are so happy to meet you!" He said cheerfully, his fingers relaxing on his cane slightly. Lovino knew why, too. At a closer look, the man certainly wasn't very intimidating despite his height.

He had warm, coffee colored eyes, rich brown hair with a matching mustache, broad shoulders, a friendly smile. When he spoke his voice was smooth and covered in a thick Italian accent.

"And me as well! Come, come, let's not be late for the food. My wife is very excited to meet you!" He ushered them into the elevator and soon they were on their way to the family's apartment.

They certainly weren't what Lovino expected. Any assumptions of them being stuck up, fucking annoying, stupid pricks was wiped away as soon as they walked in and were greeted by the graceful mother in the same way they had been greeted by the father. The kids loved Feliciano, and they kept on begging to have piggy back rides. The couple exchanged loving looks and soft kisses during the meal, and when the time came to discuss the house Lovino was sure he and his brother had made the same decision.

"The house is yours." Feliciano was the one that said it, and he reached a hand out and squeezed Lovino's hand.

The elder Italian gave the family an uncharacteristic smile. "Please take good care of it." Sure he would miss it, but it was time to move on, and he knew that new memories would be created and the house would become a new treasure for a family.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.