# Everybody's Fool (EngIta) #

WARNING WARNING BAD STUFF AHEAD BUT IF I TOLD YOU IT'D RUIN IT

Songs-

Naraku No Hana

Becoming Insane- Infected Mushroom

((Blame my crazy mood swings for this; the theme changes))

### ####

I didn't understand him. At all.

I watched every meeting as he pranced around, his face keeping that blissfully happy expression all the time. How the hell could he do it? He'd been through more than most, and yet...he seemed to be the brightest of us all. It didn't seem possible in my eyes. There had to be something darker there, something lying underneath his skin. There had to be some kind of darkness hidden there, a screaming pain, and I quickly became entranced by the mere idea of this. Did he cry when he was alone, fearing all the unknown? Were those small scars self-inflicted?

"...Angleterre? Bonjour?"

"...hm? What is it, frog?"

I turned my gaze onto the blonde next to me, who looked slightly unnerved by something. He twirled a glass of wine in one hand, glancing away to scan the room quickly before turning back to me and smirking faintly. "I don't mean to break you from your fantasies of green rabbits, mon cher, but you are staring rather intently." I felt my face heat up quickly. Had it been that obvious I'd been looking? Did I look like a total creep now? I was a gentleman; I knew it was rude to stare, but I still...oh dear me, this was bad, this was b-

"Non, I just know the stirrings of l'amour when I see it. Little Ita-chan is very cute, after all..."

I lunged for him, grabbing his shirt collar. "I will shove your l'amour up your bloody ass in a minute, you stupid wanker!" He laughed obnoxiously and snuck a hand up my shirt, catching me off guard and causing me to flinch away violently to bump someone. I fell to the ground, my body being cushioned by something soft, and slightly squishy. As I sat up from the ground I turned and noticed I'd landed on someone who wasn't the frog. Whoops.

"Vee~ Be careful, Arthur," I heard his voice chime out.

"I'm so sorry, Italy," I apologized profoundly as I stood up, holding a hand out to the aforementioned brunette. A smile lit up his face as he slid his fingers up my skin and intertwined our hands, pulling himself up. I realised faintly he was a few inches taller than me as he stood up straight. He blinked once, an odd expression crossing his face before he was beaming again.

"It's okay, Arthur! It was my fault! Let me make you some pasta to make up for it~!"

"Uh...but it was my..."

"No, no, no! I will make you some pasta tonight~!"

"...alright."

"Vee~ I will be waiting!"

With that he pranced away, the meeting having finished while I was preoccupied. I watched him bounce over to Germany, simply watching him as he chirped something to the man. How did he get so radiant? There had to have been a price for it. Well, I assumed that, anyway. Maybe I'd find out the truth tonight. Or maybe I was just disillusioned by the idea there was always shadows when there was light. I sighed, kicking the frog's chair over with him in it as I stalked past, leaving the meeting.

### ####

"England...are you going somewhere?"

I turned and glanced at Greece, my roommate for this meeting. He was curled up on the couch with one green eye open lazily, watching me. I had assumed he was asleep; after all, that was all he did in meetings. He yawned and shifted the cat sitting on his stomach, sitting up before he regarded me properly. "Are you going on a date with France?" came the dry question. I grimaced, rolling my eyes at Greece.

"I pity the man desperate enough to go on a date with the frog."

"...so where are you going then?"

"Just...out."

"I see. A date with someone else, then."

"Why the bloody hell are you so focused on dates?!"

He shrugged and I sighed, giving up on the idea of convincing him otherwise. There just didn't seem to be a point; he spent an unhealthy amount of time with Japan, and that would undoubtedly have an affect on anyone. Especially Greece. I remembered the days where he had spent all day with absurd cat ears on his head. It was ridiculous, the effect Japan had on everyone sometimes.

"Well...I'm going."

"Goodbye, England."

### ####

"...Italy? Are you here?"

I was nearly assaulted by the door to the Italies room as I stood there, having to dodge to the side as Romano glared at me for a moment and then pushed past me. "He's in the room, tea bastard," was the only disgruntled comment I received from him as he stalked off. I noticed with amusement he had a bottle of wine in his hand and wondered where he might be going. There were rumours about him and Spain...so...maybe that's where he was headed.

I leaned against the wall of the small kitchen, watching once again. He hadn't noticed me yet, so I had time to study his expression. He was resting his elbows on a bench, staring off into space blankly. There was something darker in his face, as he sighed and sank down to his knees. "I'm tired of being a stupid idiot," came the barely audible mumble. I felt my eyes widen. So it was true.

He had everybody fooled.

"Fucking idiots, all of them. Sweet little Ita-chan, pure and innocent as the white flags he makes." The bitter anger in his words was almost shocking. I blinked as he brought a delicate fist down on the wood with a bang, and cringed. He was going to hurt himself. "Poor little Ita-chan can't look after himself! He needs a big strong man like Germany!" His voice cracked on the last word, and I couldn't stand there motionless any longer.

"Feliciano. It's alright."

He turned around, honey-golden eyes widened in shock and anger as he tried to control the emotions on his face. "Feli...ciano?" He repeated his name, barely a whisper, as I ran a hand down his and lifted it up to inspect the damage. The skin was flamed, and I bit my lip. It'd hurt, but I was sure he could handle it. He wasn't a baby. "Feliciano. It's alright," I said again, bringing his hand up to my lips to press them to the sensitive skin. He flinched slightly, his eyes meeting mine for a split second.

"Vee," he whispered.

I smiled gently, brushing a couple of fingers down his face. He closed his eyes again as I leaned up slightly and brushed my lips against his softly. Then I waited for him to say something, pressing our foreheads together and feeling the heat. He paused for a few seconds, and I could feel him trembling slightly as he spoke to me in a small, broken voice.

"...Arthur...are you pitying me...?"

"Of course not. I just...understand, that's all."

"Do you? No one thinks you're helpless, though."

"I know. When I was your age...it was the same. And I became a huge empire, remember?"

"There's still nothing to it."

"...I suppose."

Italy sighed. "Vee~ I choose to believe you...for now, Arthur." With that I felt his hands slide up to fist gently in my hair as he pulled me into another kiss. I parted my lips as he asked for access, letting him have his way as he shifted slightly so he was pressing closer to me. The warmth of him spread to me as he angled his head better, before breaking off to pant lightly. I tried to catch my breath as well, feeling my expression curl into a smile.

"Arthur...do you think...we could go to the bedroom?"

"Of course, Feliciano."

He intertwined my fingers with his on one hand, much like he had earlier today, and led me to the soft-looking bed. In the few seconds it took to get there, somehow he'd managed to undo and remove my shirt, well on his way to getting my pants down by the time I hit the bed with my back. He leaned over to kiss me again, keeping it completely calm and soft despite the impatience I was sure we were both feeling.

"Are you sure, Arthur?" He whispered as he unzipped his own pants.

"I'm sure," I breathed as his fingers trailed up the inside of my thigh, the anticipation making everything else melt away.

"Good."

Our lips met a final time as the dull ache of the pain hit me and I held back the tears gathering in my eyes. He lowered his head to my collarbone and kissed it lightly, trying to comfort my small amount of distress as I adjusted to him, shifting when I felt the pain go away a little. He lifted his head questioningly, blinking at me as I nodded tightly, and smiled faintly.

"It's alright."

He thrust back in, not bothering with being gentle, and I couldn't resist the urge to let out a breathy moan as the pleasure hit me, still mixed with a small amount of pain. I could barely focus on the small smirk on his face, lit by the moonlight, but the knowledge it was there and that it wasn't an expression other people got to see was good enough for me. I threw my head back as he hit my prostate again, the electricity running up my body.

"Ah- Feli-Feliciano-"

### ####

Feliciano stared down at Arthur's sleeping body, the light of the slowly rising sun hitting the angles on his body and lighting them up. The British man was quite pretty; he had chosen well. He'd forgotten what it was like; when someone saw how he really was. Usually there was pity, or sympathy for his pathetic little excuse for a country. Sometimes they'd try to understand, like this time, but it had become rather rare. Maybe they'd begun to realise why he didn't accept their sympathy.

They didn't understand.

They just wanted him to surrender again.

They were all after him.

But he wasn't weak anymore. He didn't have to listen to them; he didn't have to listen to anyone. He heard a dark chuckle and assumed it was himself making the noise. He sounded different, but it was a good kind of different. A strong kind of different. The blade of the scalpel pricked his skin and he shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts and smiling down at Arthur. "Vee~ Arthur, have a nice sleep," he whispered in the other's ear as he adjusted his hold to the handle and brought it down, hard.

### ####

Feliciano's eyes widened and he glanced down at the scalpel sticking into the cloth beside me, which I had dodged, and the large carving knife jammed into his shoulder. His dilated gaze flickered to my face as he let out a small laugh, whether at the situation or his own expense I could not be sure. I shifted off the bed as he fell forward, standing to face him and smirk, letting my own sanity be ripped away.

"A gentleman never sleeps with both eyes closed," I hissed as the blood dripped down my hand.

Not my blood.

I'd caught him out before. His mind had just blocked it out when I decided to best him. After all, he'd won once. And that was the first few times. Over the years I had grown used to his tricks. Nations couldn't die, so this had become quite the game. I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror, naked and stained with blood, a wild look in those acidic green eyes. What fun.

...but a gentleman didn't act like this.

"That makes fifteen to thirteen, Feliciano, poppet," I said finally, looking back at him. He smirked weakly at me, grabbing the scalpel and flinging it at me. It hit the wall beside me and I held a hand to my ear, bringing it away sticky. "Dear me, are you getting frustrated?" I queried. "We can't have that." I yanked it out of the wall and approached, realising with amusement he couldn't get the knife out of his shoulder without ripping all the tendons and rendering it useless.

"You poor thing," I crooned as I slammed the scalpel into his kneecap, feeling it splinter slightly and the tip of the blade hit the mattress on the other end. He let out a scream, the pain undoubtedly powerful with the strength in my arms. I snorted as he tried to hit me with one hand, batting it away before shrugging on a shirt and walking away.

"Until next time, hm?"

### ####

"We put them with different roommates, we try to keep them away, no matter what we do, they end up going after each other!"

Alfred's desperate voice rebounded around the small room he was currently sharing with Francis, Antonio and Lovino. The last mentioned snorted as he took a swig of the wine he had brought, knowing he was going to need it. "I don't know why you're trying to stop them, really," he replied dryly, ignoring the shocked stare he got in return. "No matter what we do, this in inevitable. It's not like they're just 2p or anything."

"I'm the hero! I have to save them!"

"You can't save them, hamburger bastard. This is who they are; they need to get it out."

"That's wrong!"

"Mon cher..." Francis glanced between Lovino and Alfred before coaxing the American to sit back down again, kissing his cheek lightly and effectively distracting him from his desire to slap the older Italian brother. "I hate to admit it...but...I think Lovino is right about this. As long as they don't remember what they've done once they do it, they'll be fine. If they're not actively...how they are sometimes, we can deal with it." Alfred held back tears, looking distressed by this, as Spain decided to comment. "We don't know what upsets this trigger in them, though," he said.

"It's a damn good thing it only happens every fifty years or so," Lovino muttered.

"Who knows? We don't even know why they act like they do. I wonder if its..." contagious, Francis finished in his head, realising there was a possibility anyone could have contracted this.

"But they're hurting each other!"

"Do you want to get caught up in it too?"

"If it helps!"

"You idiot! What's that going to do?"

Francis wasn't quick enough to stop Alfred as he slapped Lovino hard. The Italian blinked as his head snapped to the side, and let out a long laugh as Alfred sat back down. Antonio immediately rushed over from where he had been in the kitchen, tilting the other brunette's head to inspect the already-forming bruise. Lovino brushed him away before standing up and smirking at Alfred, a small trail of blood leaking down his lip as he stepped closer to the American, gold-green eyes sparking with a strange light as he tilted his head up to speak in an almost teasing tone;

"Are we going to play a game, too, hamburger bastard?"