Moments (Hetalia x Autistic!Male!Reader) *ADOPTED!*

Car Crash

(M/N) was heading home from school, happy that the people who tormented him backed off today. He was practically skipping home, not really paying attention to his surroundings, even though the sounds of the traffic and the people walking past him echoed in his ears, refusing to be unheard. Well, (M/N) had long since gotten used to these sounds, so they were nothing new.

However, one sound did catch his attention.

It was that of screeching tires, so painfully loud that (M/N) cried out. He didn't notice the people around him running for cover, but he didn't notice the sound getting louder and even closer to him. Looking up, the only thing (M/N) saw before he was in the air was a black car. Then, after flying for some time, he hit the ground, unable to move.

He was vaguely aware of people surrounding him, but what had his attention was the gut-wrenching cries of a man who seemed to be desperately trying to get to (M/N). He was screaming things like "Oh god, I killed a kid!" or something of the like.

It was terrible, and, because he couldn't move, (M/N) could only silently cry.

After a little bit, the ambulance arrived, and were very careful with (M/N) as they lifted him onto a cot. Weird, he wasn't in pain, so why were they acting like he was? He spent the entire ride to the hospital staring at the nurses above him in confusion, unable to respond to their questions because his body wouldn't obey to his commands.

Though, then again when has it ever?

(M/N) was also more concerned about his father coming to the hospital while his foster son was in this condition. There were many things (M/N) hated doing, and one of them was scaring his father, even if the situation was out of his control.

So, he would need to wait while the hospital staff called his father.

~~~

America was pacing around the meeting room, clearly worried out of his mind. He had been checking his phone every five seconds, but (M/N) had yet to sent him a text that he was home. It had now been almost eleven minutes, and America was about to kill himself with worry. Not even the other nations could calm him down.

Finally, his phone rang, but it wasn't from (M/N) like America had hoped. Dread hit him like a frank train when he saw the caller I.D.: the hospital of New York City. Immediately, he held the phone to his ear.

"Is this Mr. Alfred F. Jones?" the caller, a female, asked.

"Uh...yes?" America replied reluctantly.

"Well, I need to inform you that your son, (M/N), was involved in a car accident."

"WHAT?!" America shrieked, almost dropping the phone. "I'm on my way right now!"

"Mr. Jones--!" America hung up before the woman could finish, and was out the door before the other nations could blink. Then, he was in his car on the way to the hospital.

~~~

(M/N) was in the surgery room by the time America arrived, and since then the older man was pacing around the waiting room, desperate to hear any good news. After maybe an hour or two, a nurse approached him.

"Alfred F. Jones?"

"Yes?"

"Your son is in stable condition, but I must let you know he's still delirious from the drugs wearing off, so be quiet for him. If I may ask, is your son autistic?"

"He is," America answered, relief coating his voice.

"We figured as much, but I wanted to hear it from you just to be sure." The nurse then led him to (M/N)'s hospital room.

Just as expected, (M/N) was still dead tired, but he was aware America was in the room with him, and he gave his father a confused and guilty look.

Before the nurse left the father and son alone, he turned to the former. "There's one thing that concerned us however; your son didn't seem to be in pain at all, and he kept trying to tell us that he didn't feel anything. I don't mean to pry, but is this normal?"

"You could say that," America deadpanned, and the nurse smiled sympathetically at him before he left the room.

America walked over to the bed, (M/N) watching his every move. As soon as he got himself comfortable, America said, "Can you tell me what happened (M/N)?"

Weakly, (M/N) told him everything using the sign language. Of course, America was furious with the man who crashed into his son. Apparently the man had zoomed past a stop light and lost control of his car, sending him spiraling towards (M/N). America was happy that his son didn't feel any pain, but that didn't mean he wasn't angry as hell.

And he would be for the entire day.

This is similar to the Pain chapter, so if you wish to see a story similar to this, head there. Also, I'm sorry to inform everyone that I'm putting this on hiatus for a little while, because I've run out of ideas to put for this. If you can give me some references, it would really be appreciated.