Unforgotten - RomaCan

24 - Waking Up

When I feel myself rock back into consciousness, it takes a moment to remember what happened and where the hell I am. And now I feel stupid for not immediately recognising the ceiling I've woken up to for over a month and even more before that.

I go to sit up, but am pushed back down again. I hear Romano whisper,

"He's awake. You can come in." Followed by a, slightly more muffled, voice saying,

"I'll be up in a bit."

"Are you using walkie talkies?" I question, propping myself up slightly.

"No! Definitely not!" Roma lies, probably trying to sound offended that I would even think such a thing.

"Sure."

"Are you feeling better by the way? It was quite nasty, you've been out for at least an hour, maybe more." He asks.

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, this is partially my own fault, its not all Cuba-"

"But mostly Cuba."

"Also America for pissing everyone off. And you for starting the whole thing." He finally admits defeat and starts to sulk.

"Stop acting like a child, you're older than me." I say, trying to make a joke.

"You were the one who spent hours asleep cuddling a god damn bear."

"Kuma is different, I'm allowed to hug him."

"Forget it, do you want a pizza?"

"Now you've said, yes please, I would love a pizza."

"Also, we're going on a road trip tomorrow by Italy's orders. He didn't say why, but I can guess." He says before walking away to get the food.

When he's gone, I literally just collapse. I'm still tired even after several hours of extra sleep, yet at the same time, I want to do something, why am I like this? My head still hurts as well, especially when I move.

I turn slightly to check the time. Apparently its seven pm. I'm tired. I want to go back to sleep. Can someone punch me again?

"Ciao Canada!"

I wince at the noise.

"Why are you so loud? Please. For one day. Be quiet." I complain. If you haven't guessed, I have a headache.

"Sorry! Do you want a painkiller? I'll go get one!" He panics before running off back downstairs.

He spends a while so I assume that he's talking to Roma and got carried away. When he comes back up, I immediately apologise, guilt was eating at me.

"Sorry I snapped, Italy."

"Its fine, no harm done!" He says way too cheerfully, passing me a few tablets.

"Whats this one?" I ask, holding up a pill of a slightly different shape to the paracetamol.

"I don't know, but fratello says it'll help you relax a bit more." He shrugs. Eh, how bad can it be?

"Pizzas ready!" I hear Roma yell from the stairs, followed by and excited squeak from Italy. He opens the door and Roma comes in with a pizza in each hand and one on top of his head, what the actual hell.

I sit up and take a pizza from him.

"Can I ask, who on Earth is supposed to be the driver in this 'road trip' we speak of?" I inquire.

"Can you drive?"

"No."

"Haven't a clue then."

"I'll drive!" Italy pipes in.

"No!" We say in unison.

"I do have a drivers licence, I just lack confidence not to get someone killed," I say, before lowering my voice slightly, "and it was given to me by America and is illegal."

"What? America taught you how to drive? I understand why you never drive anywhere."

"Hey! I can ride a horse! Surely that counts for something!" I argue.

"So you're saying we get there on horses? Across Europe? On farm animals?"

"I'm in!"

"Ugh, fine, I'll come too."