A/N: Yay for angst! I wanted to try my hand at something like this, so I did! Plus I needed to get something out there for Hetalia. Oh, and some human names are used.
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, own Hetalia.
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His breath shook as he quickly spun his head around; normally squinted eyes open and alert. For what, though? All he could see was the black, dull void that surrounded him. Amber eyes searching, trying to find something—anything. It seemed almost normal for the nation, being in a strange subconscious subspace.
But, it's mostly because of the feeling. The feeling of uneasiness; the feeling of being alone.
'Yes...' Italy thought, 'alone again...'
It wouldn't be the first time, that's for sure. He often visited this place, this void. Why, he did not know. It brings a strange comfort to the nation, knowing that he could simply escape from the world. It never lasted very long, though.
However, this time wasn't simply because he had been having a bad day, or that his big brother France had decided to smack him until his head hurt.
The pain of loneliness could not be fixed with a big bowl of pasta, unfortunately. It was never that easy. Only companionship—which seemed a distant dream for Italy—could make him happy.
That seemed like a dream, a very vivid and distant dream.
Yet, he dreamed this dream often.
It had all started when the Holy Roman Empire left, leaving little Italy heartbroken and distraught. For years afterwards, he would still dream about him. Hoping that by some wild and random chance that he would return, big blue eyes shining and looking at him with an expression of pure happiness. As if forgetting all the years of separation between the two, they would only look forward to the future and be happy.
The dreams themselves happened frequently during the first few months of Holy Rome's departure, but they started to happen less and less. Italy would finally forget about the past, but then it would come back to haunt him. The large home, the music that Mr. Austria would play, the push broom, the light that would break the curtains every morning...
All of it would come flooding back, crushing his poor mind with images of the past. He would remember teaching Holy Rome how to paint as if it happened yesterday...
He hadn't gotten a dream like that in a very long time. He was back to this void for a different reason.
No, reason did not do enough justification. It was because of another person, another nation to be exact.
He had another dream, except this one was not an old memory. It was a scenario, one that he dreamt about almost every night. When he told other nations about his dream, mostly just Japan and Germany, they would simply reply with "Hai" or "Ja."
This almost amplified his fears brought through his dreams. This was mostly because his dreams were often involving the Italian being abandoned by his friends and allies, Germany and Japan.
His nightmare ended up coming true.
As he thought about it, he reasoned that technically he deserved it. He did abandon them first in their time of need...
He curled into a ball almost upon instinct, his mind overriding in guilt.
A simple battle. Japan and Germany were fighting against Britain and France, but they were losing. Italy helped and fought, but he ended up running away at the sight of British soldiers—leaving his friends to lose their battle.
In return, they left him. Leaving him alone, without anybody... Sure, he had his brother, but it wasn't the same...
He shook as tears spilled down his cheeks. They weren't visible to any extent, but he felt them nonetheless. He thought back to when his allies had returned after the battle.
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The door slammed with such force that Italy swore that it shook the whole house. He was preparing pasta for Germany as sort of a victory supper. That victory never came, so when Germany stomped into the kitchen and got angry at Italy for leaving, the younger nation was afraid.
He never thought Ludwig would get THIS angry, he expected a simple lecture and maybe a few German curse words as usual. This time, however, Germany let loose everything.
"Do you even understand vhat this means? Being humiliated by those English bastards and those French frogs? They obliterated us and all you did vas run away!" He growled angrily as he paced around the kitchen, leaving Feliciano to stare at the taller man with wide eyes.
"And on top of that," he continued, "you have the nerve to valtz into MY house as if nothing vas wrong and pretend that everything was alright!" The blond man's hand hit the countertop heavily as he let out his anger.
For a moment he just stood there, examining the cupboard in front of him vigorously. Italy did not move from his position as he watched Ludwig carefully. He was brought back to the reality of things when he heard the gruff voice again.
"Get out." He said sternly, not meeting the Italians gaze. Feliciano stared at him blankly for a moment, hoping he heard wrong. Germany turned his head so he was glaring at the other nation, "you heard me; get out."
His mind was running in circles. He didn't know whether to cry and beg for forgiveness, or listen to him. He took the second option as he scurried out of the German's house. Tears still refused to fall, and even when he returned home, he still couldn't feel anything. It felt all too surreal, and he kept telling himself that Germany would call and apologize. His false sense of security was wearing off, though, so the Italian threw himself onto his bed and succumbed to a deep sleep.
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That is what had him to this place, the void in his mind where he could melt away...
...All alone...
The thought struck him even harder. What if Germany and Japan became his enemies? What if the allies decided to attack while no one could protect him?
What if he could never repair his bonds with his two friends? That thought terrified him; Ludwig and Kiku were his only friends... Everyone needs friends...
With his mind being a confused and jumbled mess, Feliciano let out a shrill scream as the tears continued to rain down his face.
But no one would ever notice.
Simply because he was alone.
His negative thoughts were interrupted by something pulling... His soul was being pulled—Wait! He wasn't dying, was he? No! He couldn't die! Not yet!
'Not alone...' his thoughts rang through.
Italy sat up quickly in the bed, a cold sweat running down his face as he ragged breaths could be heard. He shook slightly at the draft from the cold night air...
Hold on, this wasn't his room... It almost looked like...
He quickly looked to his side and noticed a sleeping Germany beside him. He then remembered crawling into his bed when the German was already fast asleep.
'So... That didn't actually happen?' Italy thought to himself silently. He looked over to him again, noticing how his features were calm and peaceful, as if he didn't have a care in the world. The Italian's eyes opened and an expression of curiosity settled on his features.
'Was that... just a dream?' He thought. It must have been, otherwise Ludwig wouldn't be here.
He smiled to himself in knowing that he wasn't really along, at least, not anymore.
That thought itself made him happy, a smile graced his face as he drifted off to sleep.
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A/N: Holy crap... I felt like that ended up being all Inception-y xD
Please let me know what you think about this, I am uncertain whether or not this made sense or not.