Spain. Without Romano 9

     Spain had been running around the city for hours. He had searched in every place he thought Romano would be. He checked the tomato fields, the cafe, and anywhere in the main city. He had stopped off at Romano's house as well, but Italy told him that he left a while ago and hadn't come back. He was beginning to get tired and his feet were starting to hurt.
    He found a nearby park and decided to search there. He glanced around, but didn't see Romano. He did, however, see a bench. Thinking there was no problem in taking a short break, he sat down on the bench and, without meaning to, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. It wasn't long before he had fallen asleep. Apparently his search had taken more out of him than he thought.

    Romano had also been on the search since he left the bar. Even though he didn't realize it, he had been to the same places Spain went to. He even stopped off at home to see if he had come by and was told by Veneziano that he had come by five minutes ago. That sent him off into a sprint, but he missed Spain completely in a crowd of people.
    Annoyed and tired, he found the same park Spain had found and fallen asleep in. However, Romano walked right behind the bench Spain was sleeping on without even realizing who it was. Not realizing Spain was there, he decided to check the city again and left the park.

    About half an hour later, Spain woke up from his nap. He blinked a few times and let out a yawn before checking his watch. He was in shock to realize that he had fallen asleep. He thought that he had just closed his eyes for a moment or two. He sighed and stood up from the bench giving his arms a stretch.
     Giving the park another look around, he decided that Romano wasn't there and that he should look through the city again. He yawned and stretched again, resuming his search.
     As he was walking through the city, he could still feel the effects of his fatigue. He moved through the crowd of people, nearly stumbling a few times but always managing to catch himself. He was half out of it, not really paying attention to what was going on. He didn't even realize it, but he had turned onto the crosswalk.
     As he was walking forward, he wasn't quite sure who, but someone was running towards him and shouting at him. The person got closer and his shouts became clearer. He was saying, "Move, bastard!"
    Now why would someone be shouting that at him?
    Then the man's face became clear and Spain realized who it was. "Roma...?"
    Just then, Romano leaned forward and head butted Spain and sent him back a few steps and onto his butt. What happened after that was in slow motion in Spain's eyes. A car Spain hadn't even realized was coming slammed into Romano and sent him rolling onto the hood of the car. The car then swerved in a circle which flung Romano from the hood onto the concrete.
    Spain heard someone scream. It took him a moment to realize it was himself. He stood up and ran over to the Italian, frantic thoughts running through his mind. Romano wouldn't die from this, would he? No, he couldn't. He's a country! Something like this wouldn't kill him!
     He knelt beside his lover, eyes tearing up. He carefully picked up Romano's head and torso to see the damage done. His eyes were closed and there was a small amount of blood trickling down from his head onto his face, but he was still breathing. Spain felt a small amount of relief with the reassurance that he was still alive. That didn't stop his tears from falling though.
    He was whispering apologies to him over and over even as he heard the ambulance approaching. The paramedics took over and loaded him into the back, letting Spain climb in afterward and then zooming away to the nearest hospital.

     Spain waited and waited while they bandaged up Romano and assessed the damage done to his physical body. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, but that might have been because of the fact that he was not human. He was, however, unable to open his eyes. He was in a deep sleep. A sleep that someone would not want to see their loved one in. He was in a coma.
    Spain could do nothing but sit by his bedside, holding his hand and saying, "I'm sorry, Romano... I'm so sorry..." over and over again.