AN: Woohoo finally an update! I am pleased to inform you all that I am a winner of NaNoWriMo. Yay! With some luck, my novel will be available for purchase via Kindle in February.

Now that my shameless self-advertisement is over, enjoy this chapter. If any of you guys listen to Sound Of The Aviators, I suggest you listen to Reflections of a Dream, Part 2 while reading.

I don't own Hetalia. I can't hope to withstand such an awesome responsibility.

Arthur paced outside of the hospital room, biting his lip with worry. The doctor had said Alfred's checkup would only take a few minutes, like last time.

It had been three hours.

There was something wrong. Obviously. But it wasn't something small. There was something absolutely, hugely wrong with Alfred's lungs, something so wrong that it was taking the doctor three hours to figure out what it was. If Alfred died…

…Well, there would be quite a few problems if Alfred died. Arthur didn't want to dwell on that.

Arthur continued walking, his footsteps making no noise on the linoleum floor of the hospital. He decided that he needed some fresh air (what a joke, seeing as he didn't breathe), and he walked over to an open window at the end of the hallway. Outside, the sun was shining brightly without a care in the world. This February was bringing little snow, but what flakes did grace the trees glimmered like stars, capturing Arthur's attention. From the fourth floor, he was able to see much of the city, with the skyscrapers to the east and the small houses to the west.

Arthur smiled. It truly was lovely to look at, and the beauty of the outdoors brightened his mood, if only for the time being. Surely nothing terrible could happen on a beautiful day like this. All would be well.

Arthur spun around when he heard a door opening behind him. He rushed to the doctor when he saw him stepping out of Alfred's room. "Well? What's the diagnosis?"

The doctor rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Well… We're not quite sure yet, to be honest," he admitted. "It could be one of a few things, really. We need more time to observe his behavior. However, he's been fighting tooth-and-nail to get out of the hospital and get back to making comic books. It really looks like he loves doing that."

"Yes. It's his whole life," Arthur confirmed. "Nevertheless, if Alfred needs to stay here longer, I'm sure it could be arranged. I'll convince him to stay."

The doctor shook his head. "It's alright. He can leave if he wants to. I'd just like to ask you a favor."

Arthur's eyebrows raised curiously. "Yes?"

"Keep track of his symptoms. Be sure to record if he coughs a lot, has any chest discomfort, exhaustion, and a loss of appetite. If he starts losing weight, bring him in and we'll check him out again."

Arthur nodded. "Of course. Thank you, doctor."

"Don't mention it. Alfred'll be out in a minute." He walked into another ward, leaving Arthur to his thoughts.

Nothing that the doctor mentioned could mean anything good. And Alfred has been more tired lately… It's probably just because he's been staying up late to work on his comic books, though. I'll make sure he gets to bed at a more sane time from now on.

Arthur frowned when he heard an odd sound originating from Alfred's room. He didn't wonder what it was for long, however, because Alfred stepped out and revealed the source of the noise: crutches.

"Hey, Art!" Alfred smiled sunnily. "I'm out of my wheelchair!"

"I can see that. Congratulations."

"Heheh, thanks! Pretty cool, huh?"

"Yes, yes, very cool. You seem to have grasped how to work those things rather easily," Arthur pointed out.

"Well, I already knew how to use them."

"Ah. I see." Arthur didn't press further, certain that Alfred had learned how to use crutches when he had broken his leg after the fateful plane crash.

"So, time to go home, right?"

Arthur stared. "Aren't you hungry?"

"We can eat at home, right? Your food isn't that bad, you know."

Arthur flushed, flattered by the semi-compliment. "Oh, er, thank you. Most people don't like my cooking."

"I dunno why. It's at least four star material, in my opinion." Alfred grinned at Arthur, eyes shining brightly without a care in the world. It wasn't the glow of the smile that melted Arthur's heart, nor was it the beautiful blue of Alfred's eyes, which were a gateway to the heavens. It was the fact that Alfred could keep smiling like this, after all that he had been through, that Arthur loved. And it was at that moment that Arthur fell irreversibly in love with him.

Arthur sat in the corner of the room, leafing through a random book, the world at his fingertips lit up by a small lamp beside his armchair. Alfred's quiet, euphonious snores reverberated through the room, a constant presence that felt almost like a friend to Arthur in the loneliness of the night.

The Briton was honestly exhausted by the constant nagging at the back of his mind, especially now that he had gone past the point of no return. Arthur's disgust with himself was poisoning his waking hours, and since he couldn't sleep he was always being chased by horrible thoughts.

How dare you fall in love with him? How dare you selfishly try to ruin his life like this? You're dead, for god's sake! You're a dead man in love with a living one, and you want so desperately for him to love you, too. Admit it. You want him to kiss you, to stay awake with you at night while you try to share his sleep. To hold each other, and watch the moon rise, and…

Arthur shook his head, scattering the poisonous thoughts from his mind. "You are not allowed to turn his life into more of a tragedy than it already is, Arthur," he whispered to himself. "Face the truth and forget these feelings already. If you love him, let him go."

Arthur leaned back in his chair, massaging his temple. When he felt calm enough, he replaced the book on the shelf and walked into Alfred's living room, turning on the sound system and scrolling through the songs. He paused at one and turned it on.

Arthur smiled, the gentle melody enveloping him. The notes hung in the air, lifting Arthur out of his prison built by his thoughts. He swayed lightly along with the music, slowly twirling in an invisible waltz with an invisible man, humming softly. Back and forth, step here, then there, then a twirl and a bow. Arthur found himself laughing lightly, enraptured by this fanciful dream around him.

He grinned up at a face he imaged that stood a few centimeters taller than him, a face with lightly tanned skin and dark blond hair and stunningly blue eyes that resembled…the sky…

Arthur's fantasy fell apart around him when he realized that he had been waltzing with an imaginary Alfred. There was no longer any way for him to escape his feelings. There was no way to save himself or Alfred from what was to come.

Arthur fell apart alone in the darkness of the living room, the notes of the waltz no longer a comfort, but a horror from which he could not flee.

AN: Well, so there's your chapter. The plot thickens. Sort of.

I have a pretty cool idea for a Cardverse fic, so if anyone is interest, feel free to say so! Hopefully this fanfic will be done in a month or two, so my writing schedule will be mostly clear for a new fanfiction. And that is all! Thank you to Leprechon for reviewing! Cookies for you!