((Hi everybody! So this is my most recent plot idea! I know, I know. I'm terrible for making another story when I have so many un-updated ones...but I'll update! I promise! This isn't the first Hetalia plot I came up with, it's just the first one I've managed to publish. xD This chapter is a little bit short it seems...or is it just me? Either way, this is just the prologue, so the next one will hope fully be longer. Also, you'll have to imagine Germany's, (and everybody else's) accents because I feel weird typing out the words to make them sound like the accents...so...yeah. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it!))

Everyone has heard stories about people who go out, do stupid things, and end up getting hurt, or killed, or hurting someone else, but you never imagine that it would ever happen to you, or the people you know. People tell you to be careful, be smart. Think before you act, but you simply dismiss it with the thought that, 'It won't be me in that situation. It always happens to someone else.' But the funny thing about that is, to other people, you ARE that someone else.

It was just one night. One night that I gave myself to let loose, get drunk, and party. It felt good while it was happening I'm sure, but I don't know, because the only thing I remember from that night is letting Prussia talk me into going, drinking my first few beers, and the sound of the sirens before I blacked out.

It wasn't meant to end this way. It was just one night. One night to have a little fun. But it turned out to be a huge, drunken, mistake, that nearly changed my life forever.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

A machine in the corner of the room let off a slow, steady, irritating beep every time Germany's heart beat. He was lucky to be alive. He'd be even luckier if he ever came of this coma, and it would be a miracle if he didn't have any brain damage. Italy sat next to his bed, eyes red and puffy from lack of sleep and constant crying, both of his hands gripping one of Germany's tightly as if it was his life force. Which in a way, it was. If he lost Germany, he would surely die of a broken heart.

Japan stood back a bit, his eyes sad as he watched silently. When they got the news that the German had been injured in a drunk driving incident, it was shocking, but even more so to learn that not only had he been in the passenger seat of the car with his drunk brother, but that Germany had been drunk as well. They just couldn't understand how this had happened. It wasn't like the blond to go out and do something like this. What had come over him?

Italy blamed himself. "If...if I hadn't upset him like that, he wouldn't have gone out with Prussia and gotten hurt..." He had said when they first got to the hospital. They had been in the waiting room, hoping for any kind of good news from the doctors, and Italy was clutching Japan's uniform, sobbing on his shoulder.

"No, Italy it's not your fault. Please don't blame yourself. There's no way you could have prevented this from happening."

But no matter what Japan said, Italy refused to accept that this wasn't his fault. So, when they finally got to speak with the doctor, and see Germany, Italy refused to leave his side for a single moment. He slept at the hospital, waiting, willing Germany to wake up so he could make things right.

According to the doctors, both Germany and Prussia, who had been in the driver's seat, were heavily intoxicated, and based on the damage of the car, they had to of been going at least 80, if not more when Prussia lost control. He turned too sharply or something and the car rolled, only stopping when it slammed into a tree. Both men were severely lucky not to have been killed immediately. In fact, it was a miracle. And they'd need another if Germany was going to make it.

"They're both still alive, but we're not sure how long Germany will be stable. Prussia should come out of it quickly. He was wearing his seat belt when they wrecked, has a fair amount of broken bones, and he got severe whiplash, but he should come to in a day or so. But Germany...he wasn't buckled in. It's amazing he didn't go through the windshield, or get completely crushed. He fell into a coma and there's a chance he'll never come out of it."

The doctor had delivered the news with a grim, apologetic face, his eyes filled with pity.

"On the bright side, despite it being slim, there's still a chance that he will come out of it, and it seems he has a lot of luck. However, I wouldn't get your hopes up too much."

But they had to hope. It was all they could do right now.

Just as the doctor said, Prussia was conscious within a day or two. Japan went to visit him and inform him of Germany's state, but Italy remained dutifully by Germany's side.

"Fuck, Japan. I feel so horrible...I never should have talked him into that! If he dies, I'll never forgive myself...I wish it were me dying, not him. It was my idea. I was the one driving...why does he have to be the one to get the worst of it? I'd give anything to trade places with him..."

Japan didn't know what to say. He offered some words of encouragement to the man and left.

Weeks passed, and Germany showed no signs of waking. Weeks turned to months, and eventually, the hospital had to force Italy to go home. But that didn't keep him away much. He came and sat by the German's bed every spare second he had, for as long as the hospital would let him. He didn't talk much to anyone anymore. Not even his brother could get much out of him.

Prussia healed and was released from the hospital, occasionally stopping by to sit in silence with Italy. The brunette wanted to blame Prussia. He wanted to hate Prussia. But he couldn't. He knew accidents happen. He knew this wasn't what Prussia intended. And he still blamed himself.

Months turned into one year, then two, and soon, everyone, including Prussia began to give up hope that Germany would ever wake.

But not Italy.

He remained faithful. He would stay by Germany's side until the man woke up, or one (or both) of them died.

"Italy, this isn't healthy. Nobody wants it to be like this, but you have to face the facts. Germany is never going to wake up. You just need to accept it, and let go. Tell Prussia that he can sign the papers to have Germany layed to rest. He won't do it without your consent."

Everyone had tried reasoning with Italy, trying to get him to move on. Let Germany go. But he wouldn't. He hadn't lost hope yet. He wouldn't, couldn't loose hope. He would sit here for the rest of his life if he had to.

He wouldn't abandon Germany like the others.

Two years turned into three, and three turned into five.

Still, Germany remained in a comatic state, and still Italy continued to visit him. Day after day he sat, watching, waiting. Talking softly to his unconscious love.

"They've all lost hope in you Doitsu...but not me. I'll never give up on you. You're strong. You can pull through is. I know you can. Because that's just who you are. That's the Germany I fell in love with."

Six years. Seven years. Everyone quit trying to reason with Italy. Soon, he was on his own. He talked to no-one but Germany. He saw no-one but Germany. And he believed in no-one but Germany.

He was always the first to give up, to flee. To leave everything to everyone else. But not this time. This time, he would stay strong, and stay by Germany like the blond had stayed by him. He would sit and wait until the end of time if that's what it took.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

/What is that ridiculous noise? Where am I?/ A voice echoed through his mind.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

/Ug...make it stop...it's so irritating...why is everything so dark? Are meine eyes closed?/

Beep. Beep. Beep.

/Louder...it's getting louder. What is going on?/

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Louder, and louder it grew. It was beginning to drive him crazy.

/I need to wake up und figure out what is causing that noise...it's too slow to be an alarm...come on. Wake up...wake up, wake up!/

Eventually, his eyes fluttered open, squinting at the sudden brightness. It took him a moment to adjust, and soon he was blinking, clearing his mind, trying to figure out where he was. Slowly, he looked to his right, taking in the white walls and machinery. Then, he looked to his left to see Italy, clutching his hand, head resting the the edge of his bed, fast asleep.

/Italy?/

He tried to sit up, but felt too weak. He tried to talk, but not a sound came from his mouth. His head began to pound with a headache as he tried to remember what happened. Why he was wherever he was.

He noticed there were several tubes hooked into his arms, and could faintly feel some sort of mask over his mouth. Slowly, he began to recognise some of the machines, the style of the bed, the gown he was wearing. The sterile white walls and the thin blanket draped over his body.

/The...the hospital? How did I end up here?/

A door opened and slowly, he turned to look. A young woman with pretty features, dressed in scrubs walked in, staring intently at a clip board. Not paying any attention to the man in the bed, she checked all of the machines in the room, occasionally making a few notes on the clip board. She adjusted some of the tubes that were hooked into his arms. Then, she went to rouse Italy.

"Sir?"

She said sweetly, gently shaking Italy's shoulder.

"Sir, it's time for you to go."

Slowly, the Italian woke, looking up at the nurse groggily, before nodding and slowly standing. He leaned over Germany, planting a soft kiss on his forehead.

"I love you doitsu...please wake up soon so I can see your beautiful...eyes..." He blinked as he gazed at the German's face, feeling there was something different that he couldn't place. The man blinked, and Italy's eyes widened with realization.

"Ve? He...he's awake! Nurse! He's awake!"

Shocked, the nurse hurried over to the other side of the bed, as the beeping noise quickened with Germany's new conscious state.

Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep.

The nurse pressed a call button, requesting assistance immediately, and some doctors rushed in. Italy was forced to leave despite his protests.

Germany was very confused. They asked him several yes or no questions, instructing him to blink once for yes, twice for no, amazed that after all this time, he had, against all odds, returned to consciousness. He no longer needed a machine to help him breathe, and they let him eat a couple of saltine crackers and sip on some water. Finally, they were done, and Italy was allowed back in.

"Amazing...it's simply amazing that he actually woke up. You were right to believe in him. Congratulations."

Italy offered the doctor a meek smile, eager to get back in and see Germany. After all this time, his love was back. He was awake, alive, and recovering!

Immediately, Italy was at his bedside, carefully hugging the German and crying into his chest.

"Finally, you woke up! I knew you would! Nobody else believed, but I refused to give up! Oh doitsu, I'm so sorry...I'm so, so sorry about what happened the last time we spoke...I love you so much!"

Germany felt overwhelmed. "I-I love you too Italy...but I don't understand...what happened?" His voice was quiet and rough.

Italy was silent for a moment before he tentatively responded.

"You...you were in a car accident, 8 years ago. Prussia was driving...you were both drunk. He lost control and it all went down-hill from there. You fell into a coma and the doctors said you might never wake up."

"8...8 years?" He felt as if his heart stopped for a moment.

"Si. It was awful Germany...absolutely awful. You and Prussia were both nearly killed...and I swear I nearly died right along with you."

"Wh-where is Prussia now? Is he ok?"

"Si, Si! He's alive...at least, he was the last time I saw him. After so much time passed, everyone, even Prussia stopped coming. I was the only one left..."

They lay in silence for nearly half an hour, holding each other. Germany thought about everything he had just been told, it being allot to take in at once. Then, he remembered something Italy had said.

"Italy-"

But before he could ask his question, the door burst open and Italy sat up in surprise. Standing in the doorway was a wide eyed, panting Prussian.

"West?"

"H-hallo bruder..."

Relief flooded Prussia's face and his eyes stung with tears. He dashed forward and threw his arms around Germany's neck, hugging his little brother close.

"Oh my god...West you're awake! I..I never thought I'd see you again! Everyone was certain that you'd never come to...I'm so sorry bruder...I'm so sorry!"

Germany was shocked. He'd never seen his brother like this before.

"P-Prussia..."

The older man stood up, wiping his eyes and turned to Italy.

"I owe you an apology too...and I owe you my thanks, for not giving up on him...you were right."

Italy smiled softly. "It's ok...I'm not mad at you." He said quietly.

"Prussia?"

"Ja bruder?"

"What...what happened the night of the accident?"

((Le Gasp! Yes! Germany was in a coma for 8 years! If that's actually possible, I don't know. But wether or not it is, it happened in this story, so whatever. xD Please review, and let me know what you thought!))