I thought maybe a second chapter would be interesting. So, here goes nothing...
I don't own Hetalia! end /AN/
Italy remained where he was, quietly crying into the cushions of the couch. He couldn't hear Poland anymore, which was far more disturbing than comforting, though he kept trying to reassure himself that was just because Germany had probably calmed him down and taken care of him (killed him, knocked him out, or at least gagged him, his subconscious kept saying) and now he was content and maybe a bit cleaner. That's right, Poland was probably happy now, and didn't need to be afraid of Germany... Because Germany was nice, even if he acted mean sometimes...
He tensed up as heavy boots came up the stairs, causing his train of thought to derail. "Italy?" came the gruff voice of Germany. He sounded worried, like Italy might have broken himself in his haste to get away.
Italy wasn't sure how to respond, or if he should respond at all. His subconscious kept whispering to him that Germany wanted to shut him up permanently, similiar to the way the mafia functioned. He gulped, and decided to respond, since Germany was his best friend, after all.
"G-germany?" It was harder to force out than he had expected, but Germany heard it and came clomping over. Their eyes met for a moment, and Italy could see something that looked like regret flash in Germany's eyes, before they turned blank again. Germany folded his arms with a sigh.
"Are you hungry?" Italy just stared at him dumbly. Hungry? Didn't he even remember what they just saw, what they both just did? Didn't he remember Poland? How could he be asking something like that?!
Italy stopped to reconsider, seeming to calm considerably. Maybe Germany was asking because Poland was going to join them for dinner? He smiled at Germany.
"Yeah! Is Poland going to be there too, because he looked hungry to me, and company would probably make him really happy~!" Germany twitched strangely, seeming to grimace a little. At first, he seemed to be struggling for an answer. Then he sighed and stared straight ahead. "No, Poland is sleeping. I don't think we should wake him up."
Italy's face drooped, as he looked at Germany pleadingly. "I'm sure he won't mind, he probably doesn't want to stay all alone anyway... He told me he likes people more than sleep any day!"
Germany's jaw set grimly. "He said he didn't want to be disturbed. I'm going to make some soup, if you want any, join me in the dining room." And with that, he turned and left. Italy's mouth dropped open a little. Germany wasn't normally this cold towards him....
"H-hey! Germany!" Italy chased after him, nearly running into his as he sharply turned the corner into the kitchen. Germany didn't respond, just staring straight ahead, like he wanted to pretend Italy didn't exist right now. Italy grabbed his sleeve, not roughly, and turned so he could face him. "Please, Germany... What's going on?"
Germany tried to look anywhere but those tearful eyes, knowing he would have to spill if he looked directly into them. Even if he'd never really liked Poland, the things he had to do to him now, the things his scientists did, made him sick to his stomach, and made him seriously question if this was really for the best.
He gulped as he looked at Italy now. He started speaking softly, as if he weren't sure of his words himself. "Italy... Sometimes, things have to be done that we really don't want to do, but it's for the best. It's better that you don't understand it."
Italy shook his head vigorously, tears seeming to well up in his eyes. "No! It can't be that way, you can't really want to hurt Poland! Hurting Poland is bad, you can't do it! Because you're not bad! You're good, you're my best friend! You can't hurt Poland...." And he broke off crying, unsure of how to deal with all the emotional turmoil inside himself.
Germany just watched, slightly in shock at the display before him. He put both hands on Italy's shoulders, resisting the minor urge to hug him. "Italy, things aren't always that simple... I don't like it, but I have to do it. My boss has commanded me to, and it is for the best of my people! I can't put his people before mine!"
"You don't have to, just stop hurting him!" Italy wailed back, shaking under Germany's hands. Germany went silent. He knew defying his boss's orders were not an option, but how could he say that to Italy's face? He felt almost upset at his friend's loss of faith in him just now.
Italy still cried, then abruptly turned and headed for the basement. Germany watched dumbly for a couple seconds before realizing what Italy was doing. His hand shot out and caught his arm. "I can't let you do that, Italy."
Struggling, Italy almost glared back at him, though it was more of a sad expression. "He doesn't like the dark! And he doesn't want to be tied up in your dusty basement!" He flailed against Germany, but to no avail, as Germany stood there silently like a statue, keeping him from leaving. "Let go of me! Poland needs me!" He continued struggling uselessly, until finally he seemed to give up on trying to break free of Germany's iron grip.
"Please, Germany... You can't..." Was all he could think to say. Germany grunted noncomittally. Italy, seeing it was hopeless, turned to get his coat and leave. If he couldn't help Poland at all, then he couldn't stand to be in the house where he was being held captive.
Germany just watched as Italy turned his big, sad eyes towards him one last time, and then shut the door behind himself.
/AN/ I believe I'll make a third chapter (Yes, I like doing thing in threes, I guess...), if anyone wants it.
