AN: This is rather old and I was contemplating on deleting it or not. I obviously decided to post it since it was an early fic of mine. It is rather short…I may rewrite it later if it gets enough feedback.
(~~*~~)
"Ve~ Fratello, do you think Doitsu will be on time for dinner tonight?"
Romano could only sigh and glance up from the book he was reading. The younger brother calmly walked into the kitchen, placing a large metal pot onto the stove with a clang.
"Veneziano…"
It had been like this for several months now. The game between denial and depression became all too common in his daily life. His brother would wake some mornings too depressed to move, making himself sick with sadness. Other days, such as this, he would walk around, asking for the one who had betrayed him in a blissful state of repression.
He had always been wary of the Germanic nation, even as his brother devoted his life to him. The two of them were always together, just seeing them made him sick. The nagging feeling of fear had always been there; even in the final minutes before the world his brother so helplessly tried to save was shattered. His distrust was justified the instant the first alarms had rang through the streets.
Before they could even react the first explosives were dropped, raining down mercilessly for days. He watched his brother writhe in pain as each explosion tore up the earth below. He could not protect him; the most he could do was hold Veneziano in his arms and try to shield him from the pain and remain strong in his place. Even as his body was destroyed, bleeding and broken, he called out for the one he had loved.
The Allies had won, the Axis disbanded. The truth of the betrayal had spread fast, sickening the others to the point where aid was flown in immediately. When held did arrive, Veneziano was nearly dead, still being held by Romano. Wounds healed and time passed. His brother wasn't the same however; it started with depression and lies, and for years it continued to get worse before he finally lead himself to believe his love was still there.
In a way he was. Scars littered his back and chest in a frenzied pattern. That German bastard had brought Veneziano's worst fears to life all within a short time. In his whole life he had never hated anyone more. The longing to see that blonde bastard dead by his hand ruled his every thought. One day he would get revenge…one day Veneziano would be better, they would all be happy like they used too…
"Fratello?" Romano closed the book and pushed himself away from the table. One day…
"Of course he will Vene…" He offered a small smile to the other who responded with a blank stare.
"Of course he will"
