"Ho... Ly... CRAAAAAP! Hungary! COME HERE NOW! OHMIGOSH THIS IS INCREDIBLE!" You yell like an idiot.
Hungary comes running up to you, "__! Who died?"
"N-No-one! This isn't DEATH, you moron! This is NEW LIFE!"
"You're pregnant?" She asks.
"You DOUCHE! Romano, duh!"
"Oh, sorry. In all the excitement I forgot." Hungary said sheepishly.
"I don't want to tell him, yet... Goodness knows how he'll react... I'll go ask Spain and Italy for advice." You nod, and walk over to the Spain residence.
"__? Is that you?" Spain calls.
"Yep... I um... Need help..." You say, walking into the kitchen and finding Italy and Spain in there, like you'd counted on.
"Husband trouble?" Italy asks, grinning.
"Uh... Kind of." You squeak.
"What's he done now? He's upstairs, If he's-"
"He's not done anything, Tonio." You say, using his real name to calm him down, "I'm pregnant." You whisper the last part.
"Well, that's what you wanted, right? Congratulations! Hey! I'm gonna be an Uncle!" Italy smiles broadly.
"Keep it down! He's upstairs."
"Well, shouldn't you tell him?" Spain asked.
"No, we haven't talked about this!" Your eyes widen.
Italy nods, "I agree, I don't think we should tell him just yet..."
"But then he'll get angry about not telling him." Spain reasons.
"No he won't. He'll be calm. I know him." Italy yawns.
"BUT HE'LL FIND OUT SHE'S PREGNANT ANYWAY!" Spain practically yells, and you face palm.
Coming up out of your palm, you see the other two's looks. Classical "Oh Shit." Looks.
"Um... What's up?" You ask.
Then you turn to the door.
"Y-You're pregnant?!" Romano squeaks.
"Holy virgin mother!" Romano faints there and then.
"I mean, I don't know about this. I coudl mess up! And that wouldn't do, would it?! What if our daughter or son Hates me?" Romano wails to Spain and Italy.
You were 5 months pregnant and asleep at home.
"You'll be fine, fratello, trust me." Italy smiles.
"What he said, without the fratello." Spain grins.
Romano gulps, and nods.
"Ahhh!" You moan. You're in the hospital. Giving birth.
Romano paces outside, waiting nervously.
"Mr. Vargas?" A nurse pokes her head round the door, "You can come in, now. Congratulations. You have a healthy baby son."
Romano rushes in, to your side. You're half asleep, but manage to smile dreamily.
Romano picks up your son (Soon to be called St. Thomas) and mentally promises to protect him always. He was adorable.
But all Romano could say was, "It's a bambino!"