I squinted at the unfamiliar faces, trying to place them. My mind was a mess of fog and fragments, and nothing made sense. “Who am I?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Norway’s face softened, and he reached out to squeeze my hand. “You’re Denmark, our friend. Just take your time, everything will come back slowly.”

I nodded, though I felt as if I were drowning in a sea of confusion. I glanced around the room, taking in the machines and sterile surroundings.

Finland approached, his face etched with concern. “We're here for you, Denmark. We'll help you remember.” His voice was gentle, like a lullaby.

I tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. Everything was so overwhelming. I felt so lost, so vulnerable.

Iceland, the youngest of the group, stepped forward. “We’re your family, Denmark. We’ll guide you through this.” His words were reassuring.

I felt a tear roll down my cheek. Family? The word felt foreign. Yet, something inside me resonated with it, like a forgotten melody.

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice hoarse. I didn’t know who they were, but their presence was oddly comforting.

Sweden, the tallest and most silent of them all, finally spoke. “It’s going to be okay, Denmark.” His voice was deep and soothing.

I stared at him, captivated by his gaze. His eyes held a depth of kindness that made me feel safe. And then, I blacked out.

I woke up to find Sweden sitting by my bedside, an unread book in his hands. He looked up, his eyes lighting up as he saw me awake.

“You fainted again,” he said, his voice a rumble. “How are you feeling now?” I shrugged, not knowing what to say.

The days passed in a blur of medical examinations and therapy sessions. I was learning to walk, talk, and live again.

The Nordics were always there, sharing stories of our past, hoping to jog my memory. Some stories made me laugh, others made me cry.

Slowly, pieces started falling into place. I remembered our childhood games, our shared meals, our laughter, and our tears.

Norway’s calming presence, Finland’s infectious enthusiasm, Iceland’s youthful energy, and Sweden’s quiet strength became familiar again.

I realized that even though I had lost my memories, I hadn’t lost them. They were my anchor, my constant in a world of chaos.

Sweden stayed with me through my darkest moments, offering silent support. His presence was a balm to my weary soul.

One day, I looked into Sweden’s eyes and didn’t faint. Instead, I saw a reflection of my own journey and the strength to keep going.

As I regained my strength and my memories, I realized that I was not just Denmark, but a part of a family - the Nordic 5.

I remembered who I was and who they were to me. They were more than just friends; they were my brothers.

I may have been the one in the coma, but we had all been through the ordeal together. I was not alone, and I never had been.

My journey back to myself was not easy, but I wasn’t scared anymore. I had my family by my side, and I knew I could face anything.

I was Denmark, a member of the Nordic 5. I had lost my memories, but I had found something much more valuable - a bond that could not be broken.

As I looked at my brothers, I realized that this journey had just begun. Together, we would create new memories, ones that would last a lifetime.