In which Bob suddenly updates her story and finishes it and everyone is left wondering, "WTF."

Yep, so this story is officially finished! Doesn't mean I won't add on some sort of epilogue later, hint hint (I make no promises).

Warning: I do not own Hetalia.

Gilbert hadn't expected visiting a friend in the hospital to be so difficult. Granted, none of his friends had ever gone to the hospital.

Also, he never really had any friends in the first place.

It was weird, he mused, to be staring down at the one boy he never thought he'd stare down at. Arthur was always so strong and confident. This kid laying in bed might have shared Arthur's face, but nothing about the two were similar in any way, shape, or form.

It was just so weird.

"So," he said, glancing around. "Alfie and I decided to visit you."

Arthur just stared up at the ceiling, his jaw set.

Gilbert gritted his own teeth, wanting so much to just leave. However, he had come in the room with the goal to make Arthur smile, and he was going to complete that goal as best he could.

"But that's pretty noticeable, isn't it? I mean, what else would we be doing in your hospital room?"

Arthur said nothing, and Gilbert found himself growing more and more irritated.

"You know, I made myself a scarf yesterday. I mean, I worked on it practically all night. It's long and red. I would have brought it to show you, but then I'd look really weird carrying around a scarf in the middle of summer, you know what I mean?"

Silence.

This was just plain awkward.

The German boy looked over at Alfred in a desperate plea for help. Alfred, however, had plastered himself to Gilbert's side and was staring at Arthur with wide eyes, almost as if the blond kid would drop dead at any minute. Based off of Alfred's experience in hospitals, Gilbert couldn't say he was surprised. Still, it would've been nice if he had someone to help loosen up the atmosphere a little. It was far too thick for his likening.

"You got any other visitors?" Gilbert suddenly asked. "Like, did your scum-bag of a father come over?" When Arthur still made no sound, Gilbert took a deep breath and decided to just toss caution to the wind. "Your mother?"

Arthur's entire body tensed up at that. His eyes shut and a painful yet quiet whimper made its way past the boy's tightened lips. Gilbert noticed the quiver of the chin and the set of the eyebrows and realized that Arthur had been trying the whole time not to dwell on that subject, lest he burst into tears.

"Sorry," the albino whispered, feeling awfully guilty (and strangely pleased, seeing as how he finally did get some sort of reaction). "I was just trying to make a conversation."

With Gilbert's apology, Arthur relaxed, though he didn't open his eyes.

"Come on, Alfred," Gilbert snapped, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "We're leaving. We'll be back tomorrow."

Alfred followed him closely out of the room, where Gilbert finally let his true feelings be known. "He makes me so sick. Just laying there like a dead fish or something. I understand his mom doesn't like him, but come on. This is just plain ridiculous! What the hell am I supposed to do to bring that life back into him?"

Alfred shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe we can get him a present," the younger kid suggested. "I think he might cheer up at that."

Gilbert snorted. "Well, I mean, it's worth a shot, since we got no other ideas. What do you think he'd like?"

Again, Alfred shrugged. "Maybe some cake? Like, a get-well cake."

"You think the nurses will allow it?" They walked out into the bright sunlight and slowed their steps, enjoying the lovely weather (and the fresh air- Gilbert found hospitals to be quite stuffy).

"They'll have to! If it will cheer him up and make him feel better, then they have to allow it!"

"Huh, you got a point." Gilbert sighed. "I just can't believe I failed at cheering him up. Me! I mean, I'm the awesome one! I'm the one who makes Arthur so grumpy all the time! Why couldn't I do that?"

Sadly, Alfred didn't seem to be paying much attention. Instead, he was staring across the street where two young girls were standing with a box. "Gil, look! Puppies!"

"Wow, something you don't see everyday," Gilbert mumbled angrily, but looked anyway. "Yeah, I see 'em. Free, too. They must really wanna get rid of them." He blinked curiously, stopping in his tracks. "What breed do you suppose those are?"

Alfred grinned. "I dunno! But they're really cute, aren't they? I was never allowed to have a puppy, since the twins said they were 'llergic, I think."

"Yeah, allergic." Gilbert narrowed his eyes, struggling to remember something. "Hey, remember when Arthur was real obsessed with writing lists down? It was that day I was teaching you how to spell. Arthur had written down how he really wanted a dog, but his mom never gave one to him."

Alfred looked thoughtful before nodding. "I think so," he replied.

Gilbert looked down the street, both ways, before grabbing Alfred's hand and crossing, amber eyes staring straight ahead at the box of little puppies.

"I know how to cheer Arthur up."

X. X. X. X. X.

Arthur didn't want to leave the hospital.

Oh, sure, he hated it as much as everyone did. The white walls, the white tiles, the white bedsheets, the white casts on his legs. Everything about a hospital was white. Pure. Made to be calming and relieving.

Except Arthur knew hospitals were anything but. He didn't know why they put up such an act. Everyone knew that hospitals were a place, not for peace and happiness, but for pain and death. The only purpose the white served was in reminding Arthur that his mother always loved the color white.

She loved the peace that it stood for, the purity it stood for, ironically enough.

Arthur contemplated pushing himself out of bed and falling to the floor. A bit of pain would be nice. The nurses had slipped him painkillers in with the rest of his medication, he was assuming, for he couldn't feel much of the constant throbbing anymore. He wanted it back. It was helping to keep him sane, to keep him from remembering all those things he didn't particularly want to remember.

However, he had already given thought to the idea of purposefully falling out of bed in order to bring back that pain. And he had already come to the conclusion that it involved far too much moving around. He certainly wasn't in the mood to even lift himself up from the bed.

So he returned to staring at those damned walls, only getting in a few more minutes of self-pity before he heard the door to his room open. He didn't even bother trying to guess who it was; the loud, German accent was enough for him to figure it out.

"You look like a fucking slug," was Gilbert's greeting as he came to stand beside the bed. "Jesus, I thought you would have moved a little bit from yesterday."

Any other day and age, Arthur would have scolded Gilbert for being rude and using vulgar language in front of Alfred, but he was just content to stare at the wall and try to block out the voices cutting into his depressing thoughts.

"Anyway, we brought you a little get-well gift, Alfie and I!" Gilbert continued as if Arthur wasn't ignoring him, something the Englishman hated very much. "Like, we both saw it and instantly decided that this would get that huge stick out of your ass."

Arthur just wanted to wince at such language, especially when Alfred didn't even bother looking unsettled from it as he normally did.

"Why don't you guess what it is?" Gilbert asked. "I love guessing games!" Without waiting for a response (he wouldn't have gotten one, anyway), he said, "Alright, it's white and it' got some black on it and it slobbers a lot and it's actually super fat."

He didn't give Arthur time to answer (which, again, was just as well, for Arthur probably wouldn't have answered) before making some sort of rustling noise. It was then that Arthur looked over and noticed a large, brown, paper bag in Alfred's hands. Something was certainly moving around inside of it, and Gilbert struggled for a few seconds, but soon pulled out something that was indeed white and black and slobbery and pretty chubby. Arthur felt like his breath had escaped him, and Gilbert obviously felt like dumping the puppy in Arthur's lap.

"Happy late birthday!" he exclaimed. "Or, uh, early birthday! Not sure when your birthday is."

The puppy reached forward and began to lick Arthur's face. Arthur just laid there in complete shock. He wanted to pet the dog, goodness knows he did, but he felt as if it wasn't his place. There was no way they could have gotten him a dog. For one, how did they even know he wanted a dog?

Oh. Oh. Arthur could have just cried. The list. They actually took what he had on his list to heart. They remembered him, and tried fulfilling his wish.

Alfred cleared his throat when Arthur still made no movement. "We named him Spot, 'cause he's got Spots on him," the young boy pointed out. "A-And we made sure we got one chubby enough to be super cuddly with."

"'Cept he's a wetter, that one," Gilbert complained. "I had to get another paper bag for him. And Mrs. Martin, duh, threw a mini-fit and told us we'd better figure out how to potty train him. Alfie and I have already started on that, though, so it won't take much longer until he just goes outside all by himself."

Arthur stayed still, trying to tell his hand to move.

"Should we try another puppy?" he heard Alfred whisper.

Then his muscles finally obeyed him, and Arthur brought a hesitant arm up to brush over the puppy's fur. It instantly responded, licking with renowned vigor and consequently wetting Arthur's fingers.

"Nope," came Gilbert's response to Alfred, and Arthur could just hear the big shit-eating grin on the elder's face.

"Is-is this really for me?" Arthur whispered, glancing over at his friends. "I can keep him?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "No, we're gonna let you play with him for a bit then take him down to the Chinese restaurant. Heard they're buying. Yes, you idiot, you're stuck with that monster."

Arthur swallowed back the ball in his throat. "Th-Thank you," he breathed out, pulling the puppy closer to him in a hug. "Oh my god, thank you both so, so much."

"Yeah, well..." Gilbert looked embarrassed. "I mean, with a friend as awesome as me, how did you not expect an awesome get-well gift? Oh, and Alfred helped." Gilbert laughed. "But, if you wanna keep this thing, you gotta promise to stop moping around. An-And if you actually wanna play with him more than you are today, you gotta get better and come home. I'm not gonna try sneaking past the nurses with a wriggly bag anymore. We just gotta be thankful that Alfred here is a charmer to the ladies."

"I will," Arthur said. "I will get better."

He glanced over at his friends, saw their smiling faces, and cracked his own smile back. His mother didn't care for him, but it didn't weigh so heavily in his heart anymore. He didn't need someone who wouldn't care for him. His friends, though (and he was so proud to call them such, even Gilbert), cared more for him than anyone ever would. It was sad that it took a puppy for Arthur to realize it, but he knew it wasn't just the puppy. It was the fact they went through all that trouble just to see him smile.

The next few minutes turned into chaos as Arthur promptly burst into tears upon realizing that he had friends and Gilbert and Alfred fretted over him immensely. The puppy just licked up what tears Gilbert couldn't smother with tissues.

X. X. X. X. X.

Alfred's shadow was so much shorter than Gilbert's. That was the first thing he noticed as he glanced down at the sidewalk. Trying not to be noticeable, he began walking a little bit straighter, and when that still didn't work, he walked on his tip-toes.

He just couldn't get taller than Gilbert.

With a sigh, the young boy fell back in his original position and stared at the puppy in the albino's arms. "You think Mrs. Martin will really let us keep him?" he asked.

Gilbert snorted. "She seemed fine with it when we brought him in yesterday. I mean, I thought she was going to chew us out at first, but all I had to do was mention Arthur's name and she seemed perfectly all right with a dog." He looked just a little bitter, but Alfred couldn't help noticing the amused glint in his eye.

Alfred reached over and pet the puppy, and it instantly began flailing about in an attempt to return the young boy's affection. Gilbert grunted and renewed his efforts at keeping a tight grip on Spot. "He's sweet."

"Yeah, sure, and annoying." Gilbert suddenly grinned. "Hey, isn't that just like Arthur, though?"

Alfred couldn't help but let out a giggle.

They walked in silence for a few minutes after that, just enjoying the warm breeze that blew through the air.

Gilbert spoke again once they came in distance of a rather large school. "That's where you're gonna be going in a couple of weeks," he stated, pointing to it. "Garoger Elementary School."

Alfred made a face and scrunched his nose up. "I don't want to go there," he mumbled. "Can I go to school with you?"

The German shook his head, smiling. "Nah, I'm done with school. I mean, I'll be getting out of the foster home soon, too. Mrs. Martin and I already talked it over. I'm gonna be eighteen in a few months, and I can't be in the foster home anymore, so they're letting me borrow some money and I'm gonna go to college. Get a degree in medical science. See, if I were Artie's doctor, he'd be feeling one hundred percent better right now."

"You're leaving?" Alfred quietly asked.

Gilbert glanced down at him, and Alfred felt even smaller than his shadow. "Hey, don't you worry none," Gilbert soothed, a small smile coming to his face. "Like hell I'd forget you guys. I mean, I actually have friends. I've never had friends before."

"Neither have I," Alfred admitted, and that was the exact reason he wanted Gilbert to stay.

"You, me, and Artie, then," Gilbert responded. "Our only friends are each other." He nodded, then grinned as he held Spot even closer to him. "So I'll still visit and come by every so often. I mean, the college isn't too far from there. And you can visit me whenever you want. I'll be living in a dorm." He gave Alfred a nudge and winked. "It's co-ed."

Alfred didn't have the foggiest clue what that was supposed to mean.

"But why can't I just go to college?" Alfred whined, kicking at a rock on the ground. "And then Arthur can come and we can all be together!"
"Nah, Arthur's still gotta finish school. He's transferring to the local high school, Mrs. Martin told me." Gilbert stared at the elementary school as they walked past. "You're gonna be in first grade, I think. They were gonna put you in second, but since you've never been before." Gilbert shrugged his shoulders, then shifted the puppy in his arms. "And you'll probably be the oldest in your class. I think. How old are you, anyway?"

Alfred looked thoughtful for a few seconds before shaking his head. "I don't know," he said. "I've never had a birthday."

"Never had a birthday?" Gilbert gave a low whistle. "We're gonna have to change that. We'll make it something memorable, too."

"What?"

"I'm giving you a birthday," Gilbert explained. "I mean, if you don't have one of your own just yet, logic clearly states that you need a birthday. I mean, everyone's got a birthday. Come on, don't you want cake and presents and parties and shit?"

That actually did sound fun. Alfred nodded.

"When do you want it to be, then?"

"I can choose?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Sure, why not? Just choose a day, and that'll be your birthday."

Alfred's face screwed up in concentration, and he finally picked the day that held the most meaning to him. "The Fourth of July."

"Seriously?" Gilbert glanced over at the younger boy, clearly confused. "We've already passed that day. Don't you want one soon?"

However, Alfred shook his head. "No. I want the Fourth of July to be my birthday."

"Um." Gilbert pushed the puppy's invading tongue from his face, cursing all the while. "Okay, sure, but why that day?"

Alfred smiled fondly. "Thomas and Jefferson liked that day best," he said. "They had a big American flag. It's pretty old, and it doesn't have all the stars on it. They said that the Fourth of July is the best holiday. Other than Christmas and Easter and-"

"Yeah, all the religious holidays, I get it." Gilbert laughed. "Well, Fourth of July it is, then! I'll come over next year and help Mrs. Martin bake you a big cake, how does that sound? And we'll all go to the movies and then out to eat McDonald's. How old do you wanna be?"

Next year. Alfred's heart swelled at the mention of next year. Sure, they might be apart, might have gone separate ways, but Gilbert wouldn't forget, and Arthur wouldn't forget, and Alfred would never, ever forget. "Can I be seven?"

"Sure, why not? You look seven. Alright, I'm gonna plan the biggest birthday ever for when you turn eight. You'd better ready your britches, 'cause it's gonna be huge."

"Sounds good," Alfred muttered, reaching over and plastering himself to Gilbert's side. "Promise?"

All Gilbert had to do was grin, and Alfred was satisfied.

So, since this is over, I'd like to thank the faithful followers! Even more so, I want to thank the reviewers- I love being appreciated, because I know I am well worth it (my modesty knows no bounds). Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to check out my other stories!

(I've got some great ones planned out, so stalk my page and await the amazing shit coming to theaters near you.)