Hetalia Deaths

Lovino Vargas (S. Italy)

Japan was supposed to be next, but I decided to go ahead and write Romano's chapter because I kept getting requests to run them together and since they are both technically 'Italy', it actually works. Romano was Feliciano's stillborn twin, which explains why he (a) is not thought of as 'Italy' and (b) why he has so much hatred for his brother.
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Good god she was tired.

It had been eight long and pain-hazed hours since she had arrived at the hospital, frantic and, to be honest, quite terrified. She had driven herself, as her husband was out of town on business. The moment she was a block away from her home did she realize she most certainly should have taken a taxi. She had made her way through the Milano traffic, contractions starting, and had somehow managed to not only keep herself together, but also did not crash into any other vehicles.

She thought that that ordeal was enough for the day, but the two small children inside of her begged to differ. The moment she had tumbled through the hospital door, the pain in her lower body persisted with aggression, seeming to tear through her. Nurses had immediately dragged her back to a sterile room where she quickly changed into an itchy paper gown that barely covered her bulging belly.

A nice-looking doctor with slicked-back dark hair had briefly popped into the room.

"How much pain are you in?" He had asked.

She hadn't replied with more than an agony-induced moan and the doctor had taken that as a rather fit response.

He had measured her flittering heartbeat as she sat on the edge of the hospital bed and had checked her rampantly high blood pressure as well.

He had tried his best to calm her down. He explained in a soothing and steady voice what she would be going through for the next indeterminable period of time. He described how the contractions would gradually get closer and closer together and how her body would smoothly handle the entire process. The only downside was that it was, of course, rather painful.

Out of desperation, she had asked if there was some sort of anesthesia that they could give her to send her into blissful unconsciousness or at least numb the acute agony originating from her lower body.

Thankfully, he answered with a yes. She had fervently demanded it, not caring if it was administered through a gas mask or a needle, both of which she adamantly feared, but the ideas of which she loved at the moment.

He left, telling her that the anesthesia would be administered as soon as she came close enough to going into labor. Now she was alone again in the room, and the antiseptic smell wasn't as strong now that her nose had become used to the sharp scent.

She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and listened to the noisy Milano street life playing out underneath her window, trying to distract herself. Then, the pain started again, worse than before.

Nurses almost immediately hurried into the room again, slipping a small needle underneath the small of her back, allowing her to feel a welcomed rush of relief as the numbing agent ran through her veins.

She couldn't quite describe the next eight hours. They felt numb and painful, dragging yet blindingly fast, feverish and chill-inducing. But at the end of it all, she felt the greatest sense of relief that she had felt in a terribly long time. As she lay there in the hospital, curly brown locks plastered to her olive-toned skin, it felt good to be able to relax. Her body felt heavy, and she almost thought that the mattress would swallow here whole.

In her daze, she didn't quite realize what was wrong. She didn't realize that she was alone in the room for several minutes, and she didn't realize the presence of an abundance of silence.