Here's the second chapter featuring the Italy brothers!
This chapter is set in Word War timeline. So, the Italies are pretty much scared of England.
WARNING : English is not my first language A.K.A my grammar sucks
(言Α言) Che Cazzo?! (=ヮ=) ( =`△= )
Italy wandered his hazel eyes over the steel bars of the prison cell in front of him where a blonde young man was bound, lying on his side on the cold gray floor, panting and trembling feverishly. The lighting was dim, adding a chilly atmosphere to the already low temperature room. It was raining outside. The auburn haired nation felt a tug from the brown blanket that was wrapped around himself, snapping him out from his reverie. His brother, Romano, who was in the same position scowled.
"He hasn't talked since we brought him here. Are you sure that-" Romano pointed to the blonde man inside the cell, "is England?"
"V-vee, I'm pretty sure it's him! Look at his face!" Italy pointed out. Immediately, Romano's vision zoomed to the prisoner's face and BAM the huge eyebrows were there.
"Dammit, true" He scowled, "Ugh... Why am I involved with this shit?" Romano groaned, hugging his knees deeper, "We should've just left him!" he added.
"Ve, you were the closest person when we caught h-him in the hole trap! And Germany said it was safer that we put him on the cell than just leave him in the hole" the auburn haired nation reasoned. When he saw his brother looking at him menacingly, he quickly added, "B-but Germany will be here in three days! H-He'll save us!"
"He better! But three days is still too fucking long!" Romano snorted angrily.
When silence fell upon the room, Italy realized he could hear England breathing raggedly between the sound of the rain. He turned to look at his older brother to see if he was aware of it too, only to be given a sharp glance and a grumpy "What?!"
"Fratello, do you think he's alright?" Italy asked.
"No, but hell if I fucking care" the brunette simply responded, tightening his blanket around him.
"Um, do you think we should give him a blanket?" Italy asked, gesturing to the Briton.
"Why the hell should we, idiot? Let him freeze there! It's better that way!" the older of the two argued almost too quickly.
"Ve, I think he's sick..." said the auburn haired nation.
"Look, just leave him be and we're safe!" Romano berated him.
Before the younger of them could argue, the English nation started coughing violently, giving his whole body an immense convulsion. The two brothers squealed in surprise as they held to each other for dear life.
"- Ngghh... ugh..." England moaned painfully after the coughing had subsided.
"F-fratello, what should we do?" Italy turned to his brother, trembling.
"C-chigi, I don't know! Maybe he poisoned himself with his own cooking!" Romano guessed, equally trembling.
"Should we call a doctor?" Italy wondered, tilting his head to a side.
"No, you idiot! The bastard'll run away once we unlock the cell door!" the older of the two scolded.
"V-vee, but he is sick" Italy insisted.
"Who fucking cares! The bastard might be faking it!" the brunette scoffed, annoyed at his brother's naivety.
"Should we check, then?" the younger of the two suggested, eyes focused on the limp figure inside the prison.
"What? Do you want to die?!" Romano exclaimed as he looked at his brother incredulously.
"V-ve! N-no, I don't!" the auburn haired nation wailed, "I mean. Why don't we ask him if he's okay? W-we don't need to get too close to him" he reasoned. As much as he was concerned for the English nation, he was still scared of him.
"Tch, we would still don't know if he's telling the truth or not!"
Italy frowned in thought. His brother had a point. The younger twin glanced over England who was still shivering and coughing ever so slightly. He had never seen the Englishman looking so weary and vulnerable before. Maybe he could actually get close without getting attacked. After all, he and Romano had made sure the Brit had been stripped down from his weapons and tied him up with a rope. It should be safe enough to poke him from afar at least.
The Northern Italian nation stood up and strolled closer to the cell, startling his brother on the process. "Wha- Feli? What are you doing?!" His brother hissed, still thinking it was a bad idea.
"I'm just checking" Italy answered as he grabbed one of his white flag.
He slipped his arm between the steel bars and cautiously poked the Englishman's legs –since they were the closest to the cell bars- with the bottom of the flag stick. "E-England?" he shakily called.
"Nghh... What..?" England groaned softly, not making an effort to face the Italian country.
Both brothers tensed when the British man spoke, but the younger of the both proceeded to speak. "Ve, um, are- are you okay?" he asked.
"...what do you think?" the blonde croaked, voice full of sarcasm.
"S-s-sorry!"
"Idiot, why are you apologizing!?" Romano chimed in.
"Vee, I'm sorry!"
"Stop apologizing!"
"S-Sorry fratello!"
"I said stop saying sorry!"
"Veh, sorry!"
"SHUT UP! YOU'RE GIVING ME A BLOODY HEADACHE!"
Both Italian nations scurried to the corner of the room at England's booming voice, quivering in fear. England huffed in annoyance at the cowardly brothers as he struggled to break free from the too tight for comfort rope bind he was in. Damn, how stupid of him to get caught by the personification of Italy! Not to mention with a stupid hole trap! The Brit knew he wouldn't hear the end of it from France when this was over. But he did have an excuse; He was sick! Although he doubted France would care about that detail.
His train of thoughts was cut when he heard shuffling and panicked whispers from the opposite of his cell. He didn't need to look over to know the Italian duo arguing about what to do with their prisoner. England needed to think. He needed to get out. He couldn't be here until Germany arrived, that would probably be the worst case scenario for him.
'Ugh, let's see...' The sick Brit thought as he probed his trousers since he couldn't reach his chest area, being tied up and all. Nope, no guns and communication devices, even his small pocket knife and his wristwatch are gone. It seemed like the Italian brothers secured them all. Maybe he underestimated the enemy too much. He felt so incredibly awful, being sick and tied up on the dirty cold floor. The chills ran out his body felt very much unwelcome and his head pulsed painfully whenever he coughed.
Hours went by and England didn't even realize he had fallen asleep when he woke up with a raging headache and horrible aching all over his body. His fever had gotten worse. England groaned painfully at the stinging on his eyes when he cracked them open. His lungs burned as he struggled to breathe from his mouth. His whole body felt sore because he had been sleeping on a concrete floor without blanket with his arms and torso tied up.
"Ve, Romano, he's awake!" the blonde heard Italy's shout over the cell.
"Tch, about time you lazy-ass eyebrow bastard!" Romano ranted behind his brother.
"I made you pasta, b-but it's cold now since you slept for a long time" the younger Italian explained, "Veh, are you okay?" He added when he noticed the Brit's look of discomfort.
"Ngguhh.. Shut up..." the sickly English nation muttered so hoarsely it sounded like a whisper.
"What..?" Italy tilted his head to the side in confusion, "U-um, I can reheat it for you. Wait up" He suggested, wrongly guessing what the Brit just said.
"No, don't! It's the bastard's fault to be sleeping for too long!" Romano nagged.
"But fratello, he looks tired! We all need siesta!" the other pointed out.
"When we were his prisoners, he tried to poison us with his food, remember!? He should be grateful we even bother to give him food!" the brunette reminded.
Both Italian nations stopped their arguments when England let out a train of weak coughs through his throat. Italy glanced worriedly at the British nation while Romano merely scowled.
"Ve, England, are you okay? Here, have some water" The auburn haired nation offered, nudging a glass of water into the cell gently. England didn't move, or even make any noise. He stayed lying limp on the floor, shivering and breathing heavily. His head was pounding, his eyes stinging, and his ears ringing. He couldn't move even if his capturer decided to untie him, he imagined.
"Oh, fratello, he can't move..." Italy realized.
"His problem" Romano stated dismissively.
"...I-I'm going to untie him" the younger Italian pronounced, surprising his twin brother.
"What? Are you crazy?!"
"It just not seem fair... besides, England can't do anything to hurt us while he's in the cell.. and he looks very sick!"
"Gaaah, fine! But I'm still watching" Romano spat as he pulled out a gun out his pocket.
Italy nodded and proceeded to unlock the cell door. A click sounded and both Italian nations froze, staring at the motionless blonde to see if he suddenly sprung up and attempted to attack them, just in case. As the blonde hinted no movement, Romano proceeded to open the door. The brunette cursed as his auburn haired twin gulped nervously.
"V-vee, E-England" He called, "I-I-I'm going t-to unt-tie you, please d-don't hurt me!" he stuttered pleadingly.
England didn't answer.
"E-E-England?" The pasta loving nation stammered, stepping closer to the blonde carefully. Romano aimed the gun to the English nation, scared for his and his brother's safety.
When Italy nudged the rope, England stirred. "Wh.. Wha..!" the Brit croaked startling both twin brothers greatly. "V-VEH DON'T HURT ME!" "B-BASTARD! IF YOU TRY ANYTHING, I WON'T HESITATE TO SHOOT!" Both brothers exclaimed in unison.
England's head was still pounding on his ears, he couldn't make out voices, he couldn't even clearly hear his own voice. 'Who is it? I felt someone touch me. Italy and Romano wouldn't dare to do it' England thought, 'Is it Germany? He's already here? How long have I slept? Oh no, this is bad I need to get out of here!' He panicked slightly.
"Vee, I'm just going to untie you so you can eat. Please don't hurt me!" Italy pleaded as he pried the rope to loosen it.
"N-no..! Get away- from me... Or else-!" England yelled weakly. The Italian nations blinked and shared a look as their prisoner trashed around blindly. At this point, the north Italian country could see just how red of fever the Englishman's face was.
"V-ve, it's alright, England, I won't hurt you" Italy assured but the Brit kept moving around trying to defend himself, although weakly.
The tie loosened and the Brit was free. The tense feeling on his muscles disappeared slightly and England finally calmed down. He moved to lay on his back then peeked through his glazed eyes to see a scared yet concerned Italy looking down at him with some pasta on his hand. "Huh.. Italy..? Where's Germany...?" he asked, feeling lightheaded.
"What was that? Germany?" The Italian asked back as he exchanged an unsure look with his brother on the cell door, "Germany isn't here, England" 'At least, not yet' He said inwardly.
"...Ohh, I see... Itay, don't- be so close t-to me... I'm ill..." he said raggedly before passing out.
Italy panicked instantly, "Veee! Fratello, is he dead?!" he cried frantically flailing his arms, "We killed him! DIO MIO! V-VEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
"Calm down, moron!" the older brunette scolded. Italy didn't hear him and proceed into a chanting frenzy.
"Padre nostro che sei nei cieli sia santificato il tuo nome venga il tuo regno sia fatta la tua volontà come in cielo così in terra Dacci oggi il nostro pane quotidiano rimetti a noi i nostri debiti-"
Romano impatiently strode to his frantic brother and bent down beside their unconscious prisoner. Examining England's pained face, he gingerly put his palm to the Brit's forehead. "Fuck, he is sick!" Romano exclaimed as he retracted his hand back.
"Veh! Veh! Veh! Yes, this is the N district! Please come hurry!" BEEP Italy pressed the end call button, unaware at his older brother's shocked look.
"CHE CAZZO? Did you just call a doctor?!" Romano yelled, shaking his twin back and forth.
"B-b-b-but he's going to die!" the auburn haired nation argumented.
"Let him die, you idiot! If the doctor sees him being caged up in a basement like this, we'd get in trouble!" the older twin screamed, grabbing a whole bunch of his own hair in frustration.
"Veee, t-then let's- Let's bring him inside the house until the doctor's done checking him up! Hurry!" Italy suggested in a feat of panic.
"Geez, this wouldn't have to happen if you didn't just call a fucking doctor!" Romano groaned angrily.
"Vee, sorry!"
...(言Α言) x (=ヮ=) ( =`△= )...
England fluttered his eyes open, surprisingly feeling better than the last time he woke up. His eyes widened when he saw the foreign surroundings. He was lying on a sofa with a pillow under his head and blanket over his body. In front of the sofa was a coffee table and a fireplace was ahead of it. A nice plant was on the corner of the window in front of him. 'Where am I? Wasn't I in Italy's basement?' the Brit thought. He tried to move to a sitting position to see outside the window better but to no avail. 'Oh, I'm still tied up' he sighed. That must mean he was still in the Italian duo's custody.
"Hmm?" he was suddenly conscious of his change of clothes and the wet cloth on his forehead. 'Huh, are they trying to nurse me to health? How foolish' he thought. 'I am a fool too. To get caught by Italy of all nations and let them change my clothes' he huffed lightly.
"Eek! E-England, y-you're awake!" the blonde's head snapped to look at the shaking North Italian nation in opposite of him.
"Shit, I told you we should've just brought him back to the basement after the doctor's gone!" Romano cursed behind him, equally shaking.
"B-but the d-doctor said we s-should change his clothes first" Italy cried.
"Wait, what?" the twins jumped at the English nation's voice. "Doctor? You called a bloody doctor for me?" he asked incredulously.
"W-we're just worried about y-"
"As if! We just couldn't bear with your gross panting any longer!" Romano cut his brother's speech.
"H-how dare you, you bloody-" England retorted before letting out heaps of coughs.
"Ah, the doctor said not to get him overexcited, fratello! His fever will go high again!" The younger Italian nation reminded. His brother merely 'hmph!'ed in response.
"Vee.. By the way, E-England, I made you some pasta" Italy stated as he handled a bowl of pasta. The bowl was placed on the top corner of a rather long plank, so that he didn't have to be so close to England. The former empire gave him an incredulous look.
"Y-you haven't eaten anything since y-yesterday" the trembling nation added. The Brit sighed and shook his head.
"Well whatever, I'm not hungry" He answered. To be fully honest, he knew all too well that his stomach was pretty much famished, but his mouth didn't seem to feel the same. Moreover, he was still in the enemy's territory, he shouldn't trust the Italian duo. That pasta might be some sort of poison.
"Th-that's not good! Y-you have to eat!" Italy insisted, nudging plank to the tied up blonde.
"Why do you care? You could've done something to the food" England hissed, glaring to the teary eyed nation.
"Vee, sorry! I didn't, I swear!" the auburn haired nation yelped helplessly.
England sighed, eyeing the pasta in front of him. It looked and smelled very good, and he doubted the crybaby nation actually did something to the food. Italy was too respectful about pasta. England's fair cheek turned pink when his stomach gurgled. Though he scowled when he saw Romano's mocking smirk on the corner of his eyes.
"Stop acting so high and mighty! Just lick it clean, prisoner!" Romano scoffed.
"Hmph, too bad. I'm not some shameful prisoners like of your kind!" The Brit countered. Romano went red in the face, fuming at the now smirking tied up blonde.
"Veeh! Stop! Don't fight!" Italy wailed. "D-don't worry, England, Germany will c-come tomorrow! H-he might send you back to your place! So please eat, veee" He convinced.
Green surprised orbs shrunk in an instant. "What? Oh, bloody hell! How long have I been here?" he asked to no one in particular, scratching his blonde hair. The younger Italian nation answered anyway.
"T-two days..?" Okay, England really needed a plan. Fast.
There was no way Germany would bring him back to England. Torture him? Yes. Overtake him? Possible. But send him back? Nope. He let out a long breath then a frustrated grunt. He really needed to get out of here. 'And I will' he thought.
England ended up eating the thankfully not poisoned pasta because he needed the energy to launch his plan. The Italian nations let him rest a bit after they gave him some medicine for the fever. When the night came, he was once again caged in the cell, clad in a warm blanket thanks to North Italy. However, this time he was not bound by anything so he can move freely. How? He stole the small fruit knife earlier when he asked for an apple. When the Italian duo was distracted by his joke about the bomb he planted on their bedroom, he cut the rope on his hand, pocketed the knife and pretended he was still bounded when they came back. The blonde was glad they are gullible.
When England was sure the Italian brothers left the cell room, he began his move. England gathered the blanket, stood and strode to the cell door. He inspected the padlock and began fiddling it with the fruit knife.
...
'Click'
England huffed and proceed to step out from the cell. He shivered a bit as he felt the night air hit his skin. The Brit looked around and cursed when he found none of his belongings in the room. He glanced on the small window inside the cell. The moon was high. 'Guess it's time to play spy' he thought before strolling to the basement door and-
*BOOM*
He gasped and ducked quickly when the room ceiling collapsed thankfully without crushing him along since he was on the corner of the room. Then a loud obnoxious voice echoed through the night.
"HA HA HA! THE HERO HAS COME TO SAVE YOU, ENGLAND!"
One eye twitching, England glanced up to the huge hole in the ceiling where the starry sky was, and the personification of America was hanging from a rope ladder to a helicopter. The bespectacled nation was holding a loud speaker while grinning widely at him. Cries of "VEEEEEE, GERMANY HEEELP!" and "BASTARD, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! SOMEONE SAVE MEEEE!" were heard in the distance. England sighed, rubbing his forehead lightly as he felt another headache coming. Well, so much for playing spy.
"That could've crushed me, git!" He shouted at the now laughing nation.
"HOP ON, ENGLAND!" the American nation yelled instead.
England huffed before jumping and reaching for the ladder. As he safely hanging onto the ladder just below America, the American nation commanded the pilot to rise and set off. Ultimately, Italy was filled with the self-proclaimed hero's booming trademark laugh that night.
...(言Α言) x (=ヮ=) ( =`△= )...
Italy wandered his hazel eyes over the steel bars of the prison cell in front of him where he and his brother was dumped into. They were sitting against each other on the cold ground with their hands bound behind their backs. Italy frowned as he remembered following a mysterious smell of pasta with a pissed Romano before hearing a thud then his mind went black. When he woke up, America was shoving them into a cell where they're currently were, telling them that he'll be here to interrogate them later before exiting the room while laughing. His thoughts were interrupted when his cranky twin spoke.
"Are you okay, you moron?" Romano asked somehow meekly.
"Ve, I'm okay, fratello" He answered, "I wonder what America would do to us" He shivered suddenly reminding the two of them of their predicament.
"Bastard, this is all because you're such a dumb ass! I wanna go home!" Romano groaned pitifully.
"Vee, I hope Germany come soon and help us!" Italy cried.
"Ugh, why are you always calling for that stupid potato bastar-"
Romano's speech was cut from a sounding 'click' across the room, meaning someone was coming in. The Italian nations trembled and squeaked as they heard footsteps coming near to their cell. When the footsteps was near enough to reveal who was behind the wall with one more step, the sound stopped. The two scared prisoners stared at the wall while bracing themselves for any assault if that was what's about to come. They yelped in shock when a hand showed up then threw a knife and another shiny thing inside their cell. They were more shocked to find out that it was a key.
Both Italian nations swallowed, looking back and forth at the key, the knife, the wall, and at each other, unsure. Of course they knew it was a promise for freedom but it was still too dangerous to trust a person that hides behind a wall.
As the both brothers stared silently at each other, a rather loud slapping sound was heard from the wall which was actually the figure unknowingly face palming. The brothers were then more alertly staring at the wall.
Finally, after much hint by the tired arms and fingers of the mysterious figure, the two Italian countries managed to free themselves from the bind and made it out of the cell. The figure stayed mute for awhile until a hand popped up and curling the index finger back and forth, gesturing them to follow. They followed the hand behind the walls silently. The hand gestured them to follow it from one wall to another but never let them see the owner of said hand. Until they finally reached a door.
"Ugh, I have enough of this stupid ghost trying to bring us to hell!" Romano strode to the door and opened it, revealing of what it seemed the backyard of the entire place. Both brothers stepped out dumbly, eyes darting around the yard and the forest before them. They were startled by the sound of door closing behind them. Italy blinked when he saw a basket with a fabric neatly folded inside it in front of said door.
"What the hell? This wasn't here before!" The elder of the two exclaimed, eyes widening slightly, "Hey, don't touch it! It might be a trap!" he warned his northern brother who was already holding the basket with his two hands. Romano groaned.
"Veh? Isn't this my blanket?" the pasta loving country wondered as he cradled the basket in his arms.
"Huh, it is? Hey, there's something else in there" intrigued, his brother interrupted as he snatched a folded paper at the side in the basket. After much inspecting, he began unfolding the paper and read the neat handwriting that was printed on it.
Dear Lovino and Feliciano,
I hereby return your blanket.
Thank you for taking care of me when I was ill
even though I was your prisoner.
There's a boat for your escape.
I've prepared a simple map for you to get there.
It's below this note.
I owe you nothing now.
Until we meet again,
Arthur
Hugging the blanket against his chest, Italy squealed, "VEE, GRAZIE ENGL-"
"Shut up, you dumbass!" Romano whispered loudly as he clamped his brother's mouth harshly and hurriedly fled inside the forest in case someone heard them and decided to check.
When they were out of sight, Romano turned back to look at the mansion one more time and whispered, "Hmph, Prego... Eyebrow bastard.." before leading them with the map England had provided them.
Fratello: Brother
Padre nostro che sei nei cieli sia blahblah: Our Father prayer in Italian xD
Che cazzo: What the fuck
Grazie: Thank you
Prego: You're welcome
This chapter is... I don't know. A bit plain. And the title lol I just decided it randomly. I guess I still don't get the chemistry between England and the two Italies xP
Reviews/comments/critiques are welcome. Please remember that my English sucks. So, if you feel the need to point out mistakes, please do! (Or just say, "omg I don't even know where to start! 99% of this is wrong!" It still helps to know LOL)
Thank you for reading!