Chapter 11: Alone

                                    

                                          
Chapter 11—Alone
                          
The next memory came up. Lovino and Feliciano were sitting in the living room, their mother asleep on the chair by the fire. 
                          
"We'd just celebrated our 48th birthday." I said. 
                          
"Vino...? Is momma asleep?" The still 8-year-old asked. Lovino glanced at his mother, and nodded his head. Feliciano turned and looked at his mother with a critical gaze, which looked far too old for a face so young. 
                          
The nations, too, looked at Emma. Her once youthful appearance had given way to age. Her hair was thin and grey, and her face had many wrinkles and sunspots. Her laugh lines and worry lines were the most prominent. She looked so old and frail. It seemed to happen so suddenly, but the nations knew they'd just been avoiding seeing it. It was always that way with humans—they grew old and died. 
                          
"Momma... she looks so old, Vino... I don't think she has long." Feliciano said quietly.
                          
"Wh-what are you talking about, Felice!? Of course she has time! She's mom!" Lovino whispered back viciously, refusing to accept that he would lose her soon. 
                          
"But she's human. Vino, look at us. We're eight. We've been eight for decades, now. She's already 80. Humans don't usually live that long... And her hands shake so much, Vino. She can't even sew anymore! She's falling asleep so often now, and I... I'm scared... I really don't think she has long..." Feliciano whispered sadly.
                          
"I... I'll keep my promise. I'll always be here for you, Felice. Even when she goes, I'll be here. Okay? But... She's mom! She's not going anywhere for a long while!" Lovino said, getting up. "Come on, Felice. Let's head to sleep." 
                          
"Okay, fratello..." Feliciano said as he slowly stood up as well. 
                          
The scene changed again, and we paled drastically upon seeing our favorite foods spread across the table. "This is our 50th birthday." Romano said quietly. The nations sensed that it wasn't a topic open for discussion, and wisely said nothing. 
                          
"Happy Birthday!" Emma smiled, as she greeted the sleepy-eyed twins. We watched the montage of our perfect day. We got our favorite foods. We played our favorite games. It was the most perfect day imaginable. Feliciano even made a light snowfall to play in. And when night came, Emma gently tucked them both into bed, and sat there, singing a lullaby to them as they fell asleep to her running her hands through their hair, carefully avoiding their curls. 
                          
Little ones, shut your eyes,
                          
Listen to my lullaby
                          
Angels sweet, don't you cry,
                          
As I lay with you this night
                          
Precious ones, rest your head
                          
You are safe within my arms,
                          
As you dream, gentle minds,
                          
Together for all of time.
                          
(A/N: The lullaby is up on Youtube as of Sep. 17, 2018 [I made the song myself~!]. The link is in the A/N.)
                          
She kissed them both goodnight, and—for the first time in the memories—spoke in Italian. While she'd spoken it many times already, she hadn't spoken it in the memories. "Sogni d'oro, my sons. Always remember that I love thee." She said, kissing their foreheads again, before she slowly backed out of the room. There was a sense of finality as she closed their door; a single tear ran down her face. 
                          
The scene changed again. It was early morning, the very next day. The house was quiet as the twins awoke. Too quiet. The nations and twins were both on edge. There was an unnatural stillness all around them.