Hi, everybody! This is my first Hetalia fic. I have just finished rewatching the whole series and movie, so this was fresh in my mind. I looked all over to see if my idea had been taken for an alternate ending to "Paint it White," but to my shock, it doesn't seem to have been written yet! Someone had to do it and "I'm the hero!" so ha-it's done. GerIta. Rated T for cursing and mild references. Please enjoy!
Ludwig had always been the heart of Germany, and now he was the only part left. He could not processhow all of this had happened so quickly, how he had gotten here, surrounded by a gargantuan army of faceless, nameless blobs that were trying to paint his irreplaceable, once-beautiful world—completely white.
"BRING IT ON! I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS!"
He unleashed all his aggression, his despair for the lost hopes and dreams of his people in a crazed world. Not for a moment could he let them take his mind, his soul. Not for one moment could he allow himself to believe that the world would be better off this way, where everyone would be exactly equal. But was that not what world peace was about—everyone being equal?
Despite Germany's best efforts, he could not hold off the Plutonians from beating him much longer. Each punch drained him of more and more energy. Images flashed through his eyes, memories of wonderful times filled with both laughter and tears.
At least they had been filled with something…
Germany was on the lookout for a descendant of the great Roman Empire: some country he had never met before. He had thought that surely this country would be strong and unrelenting—his options were either to strike up a friendship with this mysterious opponent, or potentially face a grueling battle. He continued to trek through the forest, planning and plotting said options.
Most men would have also prayed and hoped his efforts would be worth it in the end. But Germany did not do that kind of thing.
And suddenly IT appeared—a suspicious box with the Japanese inscription: トマト Tomatoes. From the high-pitched, panicking noises he heard from within the box, Germany never would have guessed that this country shared some of old Rome's most important qualities. But he would soon be proved wrong.
"It's time to start our training. You start with the things every soldier should know."
"Yes, sir!" Italy answered, saluting to his friend with a goofy grin on his face.
Germany kept staring, not quite ready to believe Italy's momentary sensibleness. "Und when your commander approaches?" he demanded.
"I'll salute him! Then I'll ignore him, sing, eat, and go to bed like an Italian!"
Germany held up his hand in frustration. "I only want you to salute!" He proceeded to clear up Japan's confusion and attempted to give them orders, but nothing work. Italy always did what he said he would without fail and yet, for some reason, Germany could not find it in his heart to really make Italy leave.
One day, the Allied forces found it—they found his diary, where all his daily activities and frustrations had laid hidden from the world. There was no stopping them from reading it, from discovering the truth about Ludwig—that Veneziano was his only true friend.
He made a promise to Italy not long after. Germany would always be there for Northern Italy in times of danger, and Italy had promised to do the same. He had decided to keep the faith Italy had given him in song, food, and spirit. He decided to keep Italy and make sure no one could hurt him, even if he got on the bigger country's nerves all the time, not just because they were friends. They had created a bond that could be changed slightly here and there but never broken.
All of this happened because Italy—Italy was truly breath-taking.
Germany could not protect him this time. He could only have faith and let Fate run her course, counting on Italy to save them all.
Veneziano had just retrieved Ludwig's cat when the mob of creatures appeared before his eyes, struggling to take his best friend down. They had started jumped on top of him to start the Plutonian transformation. "Oh no—Germany!" I wish I could help, I wish I could help! But I can't—I'm not big and strong like Germany and they'll surely eat me but I can't let him go like this. We made a promise and I don't want to see him without a face, I mean what kind of country doesn't have a face? But I wouldn't really care as long as he doesn't DIE!
A scream interrupted Italy's thoughts. "I'm rapidly becoming one of those Plutonian bastards!" China yelled, holding up blobs of white where his arms had just been in horrific shock.
"Dude—me too, bro!" America gasped.
"Same here!" England got out before France cut in with a complaint about being hideously bland. All of the other countries besides Italy had started to become Plutonians, all the same shape and size—devoid of the color and spirit that made up their existences on Earth.
"You guys!" Italy cried, shaking his head and clutching to the kitty for dear life. "But I don´t want you to be dead or to face those white, faceless ghost blobs!"
Germany was struggling with all his iron force against the metallic white transformation; he stared into his golden eyes intensely, fighting yet trying so hard to concentrate that it hurt. Suddenly, he knew why everything had stopped before. Miene gott, it can happen for good this time if all goes right! "Italy—try smiling!"
Veneziano's eyes grew wider. "I can't! Too scary—the horrible meanies are everywhere!"
"I don't care!—You just have to smile, Italy! Please smile, Italy! Just do it—Ita-ly…" The blonde European broke his eyes away and looked down at the light taking over his body.
"Oh no! It's way too scary for smiling!"
"ITALY!" Germany was too tired and weak to keep on for much longer.
"I can't do it—I can't do it—I can't do it!" Italy's small body trembled with fear. Blue eyes captured his own, too perfect even in their own state of terror to be hidden from the world forever.
"GERMANY!" Italy ran forward, avoiding the Plutonians until he reached Germany. Their lips melded together in one fleeting, freeing kiss. "I'm so sorry, Germany—I promised I'd save you, but I'm not big and strong like you or Grandpa Rome. But I love you—please don't leave me forever," he sobbed, stroking Ludwig's whitening hair.
"You don't think so?" Germany managed to whisper. "Maybe not big. Maybe not physically strong. But you make me smile. That's got to count for something. Live, my Italia—live forever…"
"NO!" Italy screamed, retreating from the solid white forms. The crippling loss reduced him to tears, unconsciously yelling and carrying on when he did not know what he was saying anymore.
Everything stopped on the island, as it always did.
The great Roman Empire was not really singing clad in metal gear. He was in Italy's mind and spirit. Veneziano's heart, so strong with hope to see Germany once, not only made himself smile, but he made the plutonians see his vision, too. These creatures did not have faces or color, Italy realized. This is what they needed, what he needed—to gather strength from the past and its influences and truly live up to Rome.
"Grandpa Rome," Italy whispered, grinning as he picked up the black, felt-tipped marker. Never before had he been so happy to smell fresh ink or see a moustache that his dear brother hated. The artist spread his work around to every Plutonian, giving each an identity until they were liberated at last.
He drew his Ludwig's face first, placing a kiss on the stark, white forehead. "All done—it looks exactly like you…" Germany would not die in vain or without a face, even if Italy could not quite do it justice with his artwork. Veneziano drew his other friends' old faces, jumping to attention once they started to speak, embarrassed by their new faces. Italy flushed and kneeled at Germany's side, hoping that he would at least be able to hear his love's voice again.
Silence filled Veneziano's lungs for one long, bone-chilling moment, until magic sparks appeared to undo the transformation. From head to toe, Germany was covered in green light that touched each part of his body and brought him back into being.
Neither country cared to notice the joyous scene around them as everyone turned back to their normal selves. Germany stood, eyes filled with pride. "Italy… You did wunderbar…"
Their second kiss needed to be slow and sweet, filled with every renewed dream the world could now share because peace had finally begun. Ludwig cupped his Italia's face and gently leaned his face against the redhead's. Lips met and tentatively played with one another, savouring the lack of desperation because they now had all the time in the world. Literally.
The other countries gave Germany and Italy a little space, gathering a few metres away on the sand. Most of them were not surprised. One look from Ludwig told Francis not to bother scheming for some way into a threesome.
A light appeared out of the Plutonian army, revealing a ghostly girl who seemed to be their leader. As creepy as she looked, Italy did not feel scared anymore. Not to mention that Ludwig stood right behind him, their fingers entwined.
She apologized for her people and explained everything, all the countries calmly listening. Italy gladly gave her the marker to bring home to Plutonia and Germany could not help but smile at his lover's cheerful attitude and generosity. "Goodbye! Have a safe trip home!"
That night, Germany and Italy danced with their friends and countries at Japan's request.
"You would have made me dance anyway, wouldn't you have?"
Italy nodded and laughed, continuing to sway his love on the dance floor until he let Germany take the lead and dip him to the ground.
"And I'm supposing you want some pasta right about now, ya?"
Draw a circle, that's the earth-Hetalia! *Insert chibi Elsie here*
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