Birthday request story for CastingWhiteShadows! Happy birthday, mate!
Romano was slumped on the couch in the doldrums, feeling like nothing short of an exhausted slug slapped against the ground. When a knock on the door was heard, he barely lifted his head to send a glare its way. Upstairs he heard Italy calling for him to answer it and the first thing he did was groan. It required effort to get up- he didn't want to have to deal with any of that. Especially when that knock was so powerful and confident that he knew exactly who was waiting outside.
"Yeah, fine, I'll get it for you, you lazy bastard, " Romano growled, although more to himself.
He slid off the couch onto his feet then stomped toward the door. He swung it open inwards with purposeful aggressive power to show just what kind of mood he was in for having his slouching-time interrupted. Germany blinked down at him as Romano huffed, "What d'ya want this time, damn potato-sniffer?"
As usual, Germany did not know how to deal with his insults and just ignored them as though they had not been hurled. His eyebrows were still raised however as he said, "I came to see Italy. May I come in?"
Romano stepped back. He couldn't necessarily say no, but he made sure his frown was deep enough that Germany would know how displeased he was. Germany came inside but waited by the door. When Italy failed to come downstairs, Romano cried, "Veneziano, get your ass down here! Mr. Potato Head came to see you!"
Italy flew down the stairs, his cry of, "Germany!" hurting Romano's ears. Romano turned to the side to seem disinterested, but he watched from the corner of his eye as Italy tackled Germany with a greeting hug. Once they started talking, Romano snuck back to the couch awaiting him. He didn't care about what was being said by them and frankly wanted nothing to do with Germany. He was therefore annoyed when after a few minutes on the couch dozing, Italy shook him awake.
Romano snapped up. "What the hell? Stop shaking me!"
"Sorry!" Italy chirped. "We're just wondering if you'd like to have dinner with us. We're going out!"
"Did you hit your head on that blonde bastard's pecs? Why do you think I'd want to spend more time than I have to with him?"
"So you aren't coming?" Italy looked disappointed.
Romano replied firmly, "No, I'd rather just stay here."
"Then you'll have to go buy things," Italy said. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather come with us?"
"No thank you," Romano muttered. "I'll fend for myself."
Germany shrugged when Italy looked his way. When Italy left his side, Romano flopped back down. He listened to them get ready to go and then as they were departing, Italy called out, "We'll see you later, okay, Big Bro?"
To this, Romano half-heartedly returned with, "It's not like a have a choice anyway."
The door slammed shut. Romano lounged on the couch for a while until he sat up with a sigh and looked around the room. He made his way into the kitchen to check the fridge and cabinet. When he found that they were indeed lacking in supplies, he shuffled to the front to put on his winter jacket and shoes.
Romano could feel his wallet and keys still in one pocket. He pulled out both and checked the interior of his wallet. Romano's lips drew out into a line as he found that there wasn't so much money inside it. He didn't feel like going out far and getting more, so he decided that he would be cheap and make second-grade pasta tonight. Not that he had enough energy to cook something particularly special today anyway.
Romano set out once he had his phone secured in the other pocket. He locked the door then went out on a walk to the nearest market. He grumbled about the cold under his breath as he picked up his pace. He definitely wanted to get the ingredients and be home as quickly as possible.
Once at the marketplace however, he saw that it was empty and remembered that it was not open today.
"You got to be kidding me," he uttered as he realized he would have to walk even further out to the grocery store.
Romano plodded on despite the numbness beginning to affect his quads. He made it to the store where the warmth eased him as he searched the aisles. He collected everything he needed into a basket but rechecked his wallet as he went around. He had to compromise until he finally got to the checkout with not nearly as much as he had previously hoped on getting.
He did not want to go back outside after having had been inside for so long. Romano frowned as he set out the sliding doors with his single bag of groceries clutched by one hand. A gust of wind slapped him as he travelled across the parking lot and he tensed up against it. Romano motivated himself to hurry on home, thinking of the warm shelter waiting for him where he could at least put something into his now rumbling stomach.
Romano strolled down the sidewalk and yelped when he slipped on a patch of ice. He stumbled and waved his arms for balance but in the end, he landed on his ass with the bag emptying out onto the sidewalk. He blushed as he knelt and noticed people watching him with amused smiles. The ground chilled his legs as he quickly gathered his things and threw them carelessly into the bag to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.
He reached for his package of noodles. A whir came suddenly upon him and the wheels of a bike zipped by his hands. He heard the noodles crunch like bones beneath the tires and for a moment his heart stopped. Then, fury sparked within him. Romano leapt to his feet and shouting after the cyclist, "You dumb shitstain, you ran over my fucking noodles!"
The person tossed back their head then pedaled faster. Romano threw the package of broken noodles into his bag then sprang after the cyclist, yelling, "What the hell is your problem? Get back here, you bastard!"
Romano cried curse words until the stranger got so far ahead that when Romano rounded a corner, the cyclist was gone from sight. He became even further enraged and he stomped a foot on the ground while crossing his arms. He panted to regain his breath then finally whipped around and dragged himself back towards home.
"Well, it was just the noodles," he grumbled to himself. "It won't affect the taste. As long as the tomatoes are fine…"
He opened the bag and checked them. They all seemed alright. He kept walking but stopped when something hard and small hit him on the head. Romano twitched and scrunched up his face when three more hard pellets struck him. He looked around as white beads dropped from the sky at an increasing rate. He closed the bag to protect the tomatoes from the growing onslaught, but he could not protect himself from the weather.
"Of course it's hailing," he muttered. "Damn it! Why's today so shitty?"
He decided that the cold and hail was where he'd draw the line. Romano knew he had just enough money to take the bus home, so he hurried to the nearby bus station and got himself a ticket. He took shelter under a roof and quivered until the bus that would take him close to home showed up. Romano gratefully stepped onboard and soon had himself comfortably set back in a seat.
He dug out his phone from his coat pocket and checked the time. He had already been out for nearly an hour. Romano put his phone down with his groceries beside him and leaned back in his seat. He unzipped his jacket as the pleasant heat wrapped around him. He closed his eyes for what seemed like a moment, but when they flickered open again he gasped at what he saw outside the window.
"Shit!" he exclaimed once he realized how far past his stop he had gone. He had fallen asleep and now saw the next bus stop approaching. Romano frantically grabbed the bag of groceries and raced off the bus when it stopped. He dove out into the cold air to be pelted by hail and he scrambled to zip his jacket back up.
Once enclosed in his coat, he felt better. Then he jolted as he realized one pocket was unzipped and empty.
"No!" Romano whirled around and saw the bus rolling away already far down the street. He snatched his bag and sprinted after it, spluttering as hail stung his face and entered his mouth. He soon came to a stop as he saw it speed up and grow further away. Romano stood and stared at the bus in dismay as it carried away his cellphone.
He turned around and trudged back to the bus stop with his face scrunching up and tears of frustration beading his eyes. He pictured someone getting on the bus and pocketing his phone for themselves and it left him infuriated.
"Goddamn it, I can't believe it! Today really does suck balls!"
Romano came up to the others waiting at the bus stop. He felt his wallet against his thigh and thought, At least I still have the ticket to get back. I just have to wait for the return bus.
He stood around the others and wrapped his arms around himself. Romano dealt with the cold, thinking that the bus would be here soon enough and he would take the warm way home where he would stay cozied up inside for the rest of the night.
Romano soon found himself walking in place while wondering how much time had passed. Was the bus late? Of course it would be, the way this damn day is going!
Finally he gave up and starting walking home. Romano ended up going alongside a canal and he looked over the slightly frozen-over water with interest. The view was beautiful enough to distract him from the bite of the cold.
At least it stopped hailing, Romano thought. One problem had disappeared when at the bus stop. As he strolled forward trying to think positively, feet pounded behind him and a second later hands grabbed hold of the bag. Romano yelped in surprise before he was thrown over the edge. He yelled out again just before he fell into the canal and smashed through the thin layer of ice.
Romano broke through the surface and stroked through chunks of ice that bobbed by. His eyes were stretched wide as he bared his teeth and fought to keep himself up despite his waterlogged clothes. People gathered at the edge and helped pull his cursing, trembling form out from the water. He collapsed on the ground with a wet splat but immediately looked up for the thief.
"Are you alright?" someone asked him.
Alright? He sat up and sent them a sharp glare. "Oh yeah," he snarled, "some guy pushed me into water as cold as Frosty's sack, but sure!"
He then spotted the thief tearing across the bridge over the water. Romano jumped up and screamed, "Hey, stop right there!" before he jumped away from the people and sprinted after him.
Romano didn't think the man saw or heard him, but seeing his dinner tightly grasped in a stranger's hands riled him up and let him run faster.
I've lost my phone, but like hell anyone's going to steal my pasta!
He closed the distance chasing after the man who didn't seem to know he was being followed. The man turned corners which Romano would turn just as he was taking another. Even if the guy had been looking behind him, he would not have seen Romano barely keeping sight of him.
Romano followed him into town until the man entered a flat with three shares. He growled and went right in after him. The man had stopped running and was advancing confidently up the stairs. Romano tore up the stairs with fury contorting his face, shouting, "Fucking bastard! Give me back my pasta!"
The man whipped his head back in shock. He bolted up the stairs with the raging Romano hot on his tail. The man threw himself into his place and slammed the door in his face. Dripping wet and quaking from more than the cold, Romano pounded on the now locked door.
"Those are my tomatoes! I'm gonna bust your balls for taking them!"
No answer. Romano shouted in fury and attacked the door. He startled himself when it broke down under his assault. Romano immediately leapt inside only to choke on smoke filling the room. He heard the man screaming curse words before he ran into sight followed by ferocious flames. Romano hopped back from the fire and the man bowled past him before he could regain his senses.
Romano had just started down the stairs in pursuit of the man when he heard an explosion behind him that made him jump. He looked back to see the fire escaping the home and creeping across the hall to the other. From the share on the other side, Romano heard a series of frightened yips. He looked to the thief then up again, groaned, then raced toward the fire.
He busted down this door to find five terrified puppies clustered together on the hardwood floor.
"Ah damn it, how do I carry all you little bastards?" he exclaimed aloud.
He then found an opened wine box lying on the floor. Romano picked each puppy up and stuck each tiny rump inside before lifting up the box. Romano trotted around the apartment to make sure no one else was here before he confronted the wall of fire overwhelming the entrance.
He naturally dropped the f-bomb before he sprang through it. He had turned the box so that the open wooden lid protected the puppies, but he felt parts of his clothes and himself singe as he ran through the fire. He scrambled out and coughed as he trampled down the stairs. He used his foot to push the door open and he made it outside.
By then people were gathering around the burning building. Romano shoved the box into someone's hands before he remembered there was a downstairs and likely one more flat. Without thinking, he ran back inside. Romano jumped down the stairs then used the rest of his adrenaline-induced strength to smash down this door as well. He checked every room without finding anything, but when he discovered a litterbox, he knew he had to check again.
Finally, he identified a blob of darkness in the shadow behind the couch. Romano dug his hands down and grunted as he extracted a spherical, black cat. Being grabbed by a stranger startled it, and Romano yelled as a flurry of claws struck his face. Romano dashed up the stairs, holding the cat tightly but screaming, "I'm trying to save you, you stupid meatball! Stop it!"
He made it out and jammed the squirming cat into the arms of the person who had come up to him, crying, "You saved Misty! Oh my god, thank you!"
"Well," Romano huffed as he put his hands on his hips. "At least you're more thankful than that ass-chunk cat. Did you see where that man ran? He stole my damn pasta."
"Oh lord, not your pasta!" she cried. "Yes, he went that way-"
She pointed to the road. Romano sprinted across it, dodging the cars that honked angrily at him. His eyes scanned through the crowd until they focused in on a grocery bag.
There he is! his mind screamed. He charged forward but the man looked back just before Romano's hand could grasp the bag. The thief broke out into a run and Romano expressed his fiery emotions with a wordless shriek while tearing after him.
He was freezing and still wet. He was burnt. His face stung from the scratches and his phone was gone. But he was so hungry. And like hell he was going to lose one more thing today!
"Stop him! He's a pasta thief!" Romano screamed.
The Italians surged forward for duty. The man turned abruptly and leapt into the street but Romano did not hesitate to follow him.
Someone screeched from the sidewalk, "No, look out!"
Romano went flying when a vehicle struck him. He rolled across the road then lay on his back in pain. He groaned death threats as he felt himself freezing to the pavement and bruises forming on his body. When Romano lifted his head up, he saw that the vehicle stopped behind him was none other than the return bus.
He stood up and yelled at the shocked driver, "What the hell? I waited for you and now you pick the time to come?"
Someone ran up to him and passed him his bag of groceries. Romano blinked at it, stunned, then said his thanks before marching up to the side of the bus. Romano dug out his ticket, waved it, then was let onto the bus. The driver stared at him, but Romano hissed, "I want no more bullshit today. Take me home, bastard."
He was let on. Romano was stared at by every passenger even after he sat down with a dramatic sigh. The person beside him turned to gawk at his tattered form, so Romano turned to glare at him and exclaim, "What're you looking at me for? Your mug's uglier than mine!"
Romano tossed his head to the side. He looked out the opposite window as the bus rolled on. He was glad to be inside now, but he was so drenched that he wasn't getting any warmer anytime soon. His seat became soaked and Romano was uncomfortable about how cold his ass was right at that moment. He shifted awkwardly and desired to get home as soon as possible to change.
He checked the bag of groceries on his lap. The noodles were snapped but everything else seemed to be in order. As he had his head down, he heard new passengers getting onto the bus at a stop. It was then that there was a slam and someone shrieked, "Nobody move or I will shoot!"
Romano snapped his head up. At the front of the bus beside the horrified bus driver, there was a man with his hood up and a scarf covering most of his face. In one hand, he was holding a pistol and waving it side-to-side.
"I'm taking this bus!" he screamed.
Romano was overtaken by ire. He just couldn't stand for anything else. He grabbed the carton of cream from his bag and whipped it across the bus. It struck the man perfectly in his face and exploded. Cream coated his eyes and he tripped backwards. Romano was on his feet by then, racing across the bus with his fists and mouth ready for assault.
"Goddamn son of a bitch! I do not have time for this!" Romano threw a storm of punches at his face. The gun was ripped from his grasp to have it the side of it slammed against his head repeatedly by Romano. He attacked until the man was unconscious, but even then the sass did not end.
"Inconsiderate asswad! Unwiped thug, you think you're so tough but I'll show you how stupid your shit-brain really is! Thinking you can just come onto a bus and wave your toy around and take what you want- no chance in hell! No, not in my town!"
The bus erupted into applause. Romano blinked and turned around. Phones were out and recording him, and the driver who hadn't stopped driving took a moment to glance at him. Romano looked up from where he was and saw his stop upcoming. He hurried to get his bag, but on the way to his seat, people patted his back in gratitude. Romano twitched and snarled at them, "Hey, don't touch me!" before he hurried off to leave.
He leapt out and briskly set off to leave the people on the bus to deal with the arrest of the guy. Romano looked up at the street sign then picked up the pace. He was almost home. Romano was already imagining the hot bowl of pasta he would soon have prepared and his gut cried out again. The cold was making him even hungrier and by now he felt as though his innards were consuming each other.
Halfway back, then the sky opened up again and this time freezing rain poured down. He exclaimed in irritation then started jogging. He stopped running when he slipped on ice and fell again. He didn't drop the bag this time, but now his wet and bruised ass ached even more. He limped slowly along under the storm, careful on the icy sidewalk now. His cuts and burns numbed until they really hurt and he was left swearing to cope with it.
Minutes of curses, then someone walking in right in front of him dropped down. Romano gasped, dropped his bag, and caught her. An unwrapped sandwich dropped and Romano heard her gagging.
"Ah, Bella! Do you want me to help you?" he cried.
She was nodding but was now choking silently. Romano scrambled to remember the proper technique before he proceeded to do the Heimlich maneuver. He was not successful however, and when she went limp, he set her on the ground.
He pointed at a bystander and yelled, "Call for help! This is serious- she's unconscious!"
Romano frantically began CPR. He checked her throat often but still couldn't see what was lodged in there. He kept going, growing so frightened that he forgot his own injuries and woes. When he did finally see the glob of food, he scooped it out from her with his pinky without hesitation.
She started to come to. The woman rolled onto her side then looked up at him with tired eyes. Romano stood up and smiled down in relief. That was before she began retching and he had to rush back. Romano stepped away but was too slow to grab his bag. The vomit shot from her mouth and poured into his overturned bag of groceries.
His jaw dropped and he stared down in horror. By then, people had come forward to congratulate him, although they knew nought of how his heart broke right then and there.
Romano carefully picked up the bag and opened it. The tomatoes were washed with puke and everything else was splattered with it and reeking. The emptiness inside him ripped him.
Romano lost the ability to feel anger anymore. There were no more swear words left to say. Romano lifted the bag with a few fingers and held it at a distance as he carried it to the nearest trashcan. He dropped it inside then walked away without looking back.
He arrived home in a matter of minutes, his face haunted. He unlocked the door and entered the empty house, peeling off his damaged jacket and hanging it up as though it was fine. He kicked off his drenched shoes then headed to the bathroom on a beeline. He absolutely needed a hot shower. Once stripped in front of a mirror however, Romano stared at his horrid reflection.
His hair was a scorched mess, frizzy and with his characteristic hair curl completely missing. His face was torn and one side was bruised. As for the rest of his body, it was spotted with large patches of black and his skin was red from the bite of the cold.
But the warm water he introduced his body to felt nice. He cleaned his cuts and gently went over his tender bruises. When towelled off, he combed his hair and it only looked half as bad now. As the scratches started to stop hurting, he thought they rather looked cool. He felt like quite a survivor now.
Romano threw on comfy clothes and felt so much better. The only problem was that he was still so hungry and the loss of his phone and money pained him still. Romano padded up to the fridge and decided that a simple glass of milk would have to do. He had no energy left for anything more complicated than that.
Romano took the milk to the couch and turned on the TV. Half an hour later, Italy and Germany walked in. He wasn't facing them at first, so Germany cried out upon seeing him, "Did you even move at all in the time we've been gone?"
Romano whirled around and snarled, "Mr. Studly, if you even had an idea of where I've been…!"
Italy cried upon seeing his face, "Romano, what happened to you?
"Oh jeez, what hasn't happened to me!" Romano gasped. "I don't even know where to begin!"
Germany stared at him, then asked hesitantly, "Did you… catch fire?"
Romano flopped back. "I'm too tired to really explain it all… Leave me be and I'll tell you about it later."
He looked back to the TV. At that time, a report exploded on screen and he was shocked at what the text that popped up said.
SAME MAN THAT RESCUED PETS FROM BURNING BUILDING SAVES BUS PASSENGERS FROM HOSTAGE SITUATION…
Footage first of him dashing out from the building with the box of puppies played before it cut to him passing the fat cat into the owner's arms. Another clip showed him pounding in the face of the gunman with his own weapon while cheers sounded out from behind the camera. Romano's eyes widened as he saw himself doing these things and realized now everything he had done.
In addition to this, Romano could just sense the shock emanating from Germany and Italy. That brought him such a sense of satisfaction. He hadn't really thought of his actions at the time, but now he was growing proud of them.
Then the anchorman and woman jumped as they received fresh news. They quickly dove into it, with the woman crying, "This just in, the same man has been credited with saving the life of a choking victim!"
Germany and Italy were really gawking at him now. Romano grinned and crossed his arms behind his head.
Those on the newscast continued, with the anchorman exclaiming, "Wow, a true hero, I would say!"
Romano felt warm inside from the praise. All the pain and memory of hardship faded away until only good feelings were left. The cherry to the cake was however, when Germany was left speechless and Italy could only gasp, "Bro, where have you been?"
Romano laughed first. Then, he gladly lounged back into the couch to recount the details of the utterly crazy yet awesome day he had had.
The End!