Hey out there, Dudes! Z The Intellectual, here! Finally Semester Exams are over! *breathes huge sigh of relief* I passed each one with flying colors. As an early Christmas present, I decided to post this next chapter. Surprisingly enough, I had plenty of time to type this one up (because I didn't have homework), but hey! At least it's done, right? Hahaha! Please, read and review! Once again, I do appreciate constructive criticism... Hopefully there aren't too many mistakes... ^^"
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia - the characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya ( I think that's how it's spelled... ^^" )
Act III
Sudden Comatose
It was dark. Nothing but black was surrounding him. "…Germany!" Was… Was someone calling him? There was a brief silence and he subconsciously shrugged it off. "…Germany!"
Finally, Germany came to. He groaned as he slowly opened his eyes. When his vision became less blurry, he found a worried-looking Italy kneeling above him. The stone ceiling seemed to be awfully close, from his perspective. Germany blinked and let out a pained groan.
He sat up slowly, with Italy's help, and glanced around, dumbfounded. They seemed to be in a cell in a basement. Cement bricks built up the walls and poorly kept furniture lined the wall behind him. Two ragged beds were positioned against the wall, and across from him, two broken barrels sat with various planks of wood scattered here and there.
Germany could tell by the looks of this place that it hadn't been used in a while. It was dingy and had a musky odor, while cobwebs hung daintily from every possible nook and cranny. He frowned at his surroundings. It wasn't long before he noticed two blond-haired figures standing just outside of the steel bars the enclosed them in the cell.
America was standing beside Britain, staring at them thoughtfully. Britain had his arms crossed and his signature scowl was plastered on his face. He wasn't angry, Germany noted, as he watched England turn to America with a snarky look on his face, as if to say, "I told you so."
Indeed, England glanced over at the younger nation with his eyebrows raised and said, "See? I told you it would work."
In response, America shoved his gloved hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket, threw his head back, and laughed. "I guess so! Ahahahaha!"
At this, the Englishman rolled his eyes and walked away without any acknowledgement to America. The younger nation frowned, offended. As he followed Britain outside the basement, he sneered, "You're paying for my dog's vet bills…"
When the door shut behind them, Italy and Germany were left in silence. The brunette looked down at Germany with a worried expression. Then he took a deep breath and smiled brightly, "Are you alright, Captain?"
"Ugh…" Germany groaned as Italy helped him to his feet. "My head hurts a bit, but that's about all. At least I'm not severely injured… You?"
Italy turned his gaze to the ground. "My head hurts, too… I was dropped on my way over here... I'm so sorry, Germany!"
The blonde shook his head and tried to refrain from frowning, which would only make Italy feel worse. The thought that they could be so careless and drop Italy irritated Germany. "It's okay," he replied gruffly. "Our main priority is just to get out of here right now before those two get back." Keeping his gaze cautiously focused on the exit, Germany quickly backed his way over to the wall. "Help me find a way out."
The Italian nodded. He crossed the room over to where the barrels sat against the wall. He cautiously examined it. Just rotten furniture… nothing to see here… Italy thought. Then, he walked over to the gate that kept them in the enclosure. He knew that it was locked tight, and there was no key in sight. He pulled at the cold metal bars to see if they were loose, but they didn't budge. He couldn't even get a rattling noise out of them. Italy sighed and flicked the gate, earning a little clank sound in response—as if the bars themselves were reminding him that this was futile. These bars are made of steel, Italy thought. They're too solid, even for Germany.
After wandering about in the mostly empty cell, Italy approached Germany to see how he was doing. Germany had a placid expression on his face. He lifted an eyebrow as if to ask why Italy was there. "I'm covering this part," he said. "Search the other half."
He then walked over to the two poorly constructed beds. They seemed to be made of straw and what appeared to be ripped tissue. Italy sat on one of them but nearly leaped out of his skin when he heard a small crunch. "Ew! I squished a cockroach!"
Endless, tiring searching had eventually led to Italy standing in the middle of the cell once again. He pouted and crossed his arms. "It looks like I can't find a way out…" he muttered softly so himself. Then he turned around and his face brightened as he watched Germany examine weak spots in a large crack that was present on the wall, "Though it looks like Germany has everything handled over there!"
Italy smiled and walked over to one of the beds and sat down, careful to examine it and make sure there were no small creatures in it. As he lay back on the raggedy pillow, he let out a huge sigh and whispered, "Siesta time, ve~" as he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
…Ah… My head hurts so much…
Maybe I could just sleep the pain away…
After all… We can't feel pain in our dreams!
When Italy opened his eyes, he was standing in a massive field of flowers and green grass. He could hear the sound of rushing water nearby as he glanced around, curiously. The place was rather familiar to him.
He smiled and inhaled deeply, "Ah… So pretty…" The scent of the flowers was intoxicating… The sun was shining brightly above him, welcoming him to this wonderland. He decided to explore a bit, when he suddenly heard a voice calling him, "Italy!"
The brunette raised his head, "Hm?"
"Italy, come over here!" the voice beckoned, sweetly.
Italy decided to do as he was told. He attempted to follow the voice to figure out where it was coming from. After what seemed to be endless searching through the tall grass and abundance of flowers, the Italian eventually found himself facing a large tree. Its trunk was rather thick—so large, in fact, that Italy couldn't even attempt to reach his arms all the way around it. Its branches stretched high above him, voluminous and full of leaves, partially blocking out the sun that rested in the sky.
"Italy! You made it!" the voice said, excitedly.
Italy stepped back and smiled, "Of course I did! I wouldn't miss it!" Suddenly, a figure materialized before him, gaining the appearance of someone familiar. The male figure had slicked-back blonde hair and sky blue eyes. Germany. He was even wearing the same green and black WWII uniform from when they fought together.
The German approached him and smiled brightly. "I was so afraid you wouldn't come…" he said almost dreamily.
At this, Italy grinned from ear to ear and waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense, Captain!" he assured him.
Oddly, in response, Germany looked away as if disappointed. He cast his gaze downward and shook his head. "You know," he said. "You don't have to call me that…"
For a moment, Italy raised an eyebrow. Then, smiling, Germany concluded, "Just calling me Germany is good enough."
In response, Italy laughed, "Whatever you say, Germany!" He sighed happily. Ve… he thought. He's actually smiling for once…
There was a period of silence between the two. It was as if Germany was contemplating what to say to Italy. Italy had gotten distracted again, though, and was laughing and trying to catch some of the flying insects.
"Hey, I have an idea," Germany said. Italy looked back at him, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Let's do something together! You know, like friends do!"
"Oh? Like what?"
Germany smiled sweetly at Italy. "Well, that depends what you want to do… We can talk about pasta or pizza or art or go swimming… anything," he replied.
At this, Italy jumped for joy and clasped his hands together excitedly. "Ooh! Swimming sounds like fun! We should do that!"
"Then what are we waiting for?" Germany then began making his way through the field and over to the shore of the lake. The rushing water he'd heard must've been from the stream that fed into it.
Italy sighed. It really has been too long since I've seen him happy like that… he thought. The Italian glanced up at the bright sun and reached his hand up to it. Looking at the five-digit silhouette, Italy then lowered his hand and closed his eyes, letting the warmth envelop him. Or… happy at all, for that matter…
He followed Germany's path through the field until he found himself standing behind the blonde at the shore of the lake. "How's the water?" he asked, smiling.
"Perfect," Germany replied.
The Italian grinned widely, "Hurray!" Then he backed up several paces. "Germany, hug me!" he exclaimed, running and leaping into the German's arms as they fell into the lake with a splash.
…!
I… I can't breathe…!
Italy sat up immediately, startled out of his sleep. He woke up coughing. "Finally, you wake up," Germany said. "The tunnel is ready." Italy raised his eyebrows, trying to take in what was going on. He glanced around and found Germany's canteen lying on the floor, barely dripping. He lifted a hand to his head and found that his hair was soaking wet. The tips of it were dripping water onto the shoulders of his uniform. His canteen's empty… He must've poured it on my head to wake me up… Italy observed.
It was then that Italy realized the situation by the agitated, impatient expression on Germany's face. "Ah!" he exclaimed as his face lit up in fear. "I'm so sorry, Germany! I was just so tired, and—!"
Germany fixed a placid expression on his face as he quieted his ally. "Shh… Let's go, Italy."
"Y-yes, sir…" Italy said, standing up as he looked guiltily to the floor. The two then proceeded through the tunnel that Germany had made from the large crack in the wall.
Italy entered his room and slammed the door shut behind him. "Vee, that was exhausting!" he sighed. "I'm sure glad we got away! Though now I really, really need some sleep!"
He walked over to his mirror to examine himself. "I look very handsome…" he swooned. Then there was a moment of silence as he continued to stare back at his reflection, smiling.
Suddenly, his face lit up in terrified shock as a shadow covered his forehead. He gasped and stepped back from the mirror. His reflection had morphed into an entirely different image—one with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Italy shook as the figure seemed to reach out from the mirror. When it stepped through, he couldn't bring himself to speak.
"G…Germany…?"
The figure was nearly transparent, Italy realized, for he could still see his own reflection in the mirror though the figure stood right in front of him. The pseudo-German moved his lips as if to speak, but no sound came out.
"… I can't hear you…" Italy replied almost guiltily. "Let's see if I can read your lips."
Germany repeated the action, but Italy still could not understand a word he was saying. At this, Italy shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what else to do. The German glanced at Italy before looking around the room. Upon spotting the bed in the corner, he walked over to it and turned his gaze back to Italy.
The brunette raised his eyebrows. "You… You want me to go to bed…?" The figure nodded slowly and Italy replied, "Okay!"
He walked cautiously over to his bed. As Italy prepared to climb onto the mattress, he thought, this is all so fun… I wonder if I'm asleep right now!
When Italy lay down he glanced over at Germany, who smiled back at him assuring. Then he closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.
However, as soon as Italy lost consciousness, he didn't notice when the German figure shed its outer appearance and a shadowy being with piercing white circles for eyes approached his bed and loomed over him menacingly.
"It's hard to breathe here…" a voice said softly.
Germany was standing at the bank of a fast-flowing river, staring back at his reflection blankly. "Hm..?" He looked up with a raised eyebrow and turned around.
About twenty paces away, stood a brunette figure in a blue and black uniform with his back to Germany. The odd curl in his hair indicated exactly who it was. "Italy…?" Germany muttered softly, but at a volume loud enough for Italy to hear.
The Italian did not reply but instead kept breathing heavily as if trying to catch his breath. "…What is it?" Germany insisted, trying to avoid becoming impatient with the childish country.
There was a moment of silence before Italy muttered, "…You don't want me…" Then the brunette sprinted away.
Germany's brow furrowed in confusion, and he exclaimed, "Tch!" He hadn't expected Italy to run away from him. He usually didn't, which was strange. "Italy! Wait!" Germany called after him.
He chased his ally through the grass until he found Italy standing beneath the shadow of a large tree—one with a thick trunk and branches that reached out towards the sky, thick with leaves. The Italian still wouldn't face him, which surprised Germany, considering how much Italy thought of him as a friend.
Italy seemed to shudder. From where Germany was standing, it had either seemed as though the shadow from the tree was covering selective parts of his uniform, making them look black, or Italy must've been upset that he'd spilled ink on it again. Either way, whatever was going on, Germany was sure that it was downright suspicious. "…Italy…?"
Once again, Italy did not immediately respond. He breathed heavily before turning around slowly. The sight of him caused Germany to jump back in fear.
"Gah!" Germany exclaimed.
Italy had a creepy smile plastered onto his face, not the usually cheerful, relaxed smile that he was known for. This seemed to be more of a menacing smile. The Italian's right arm was completely obscured in black and splotches of the same black matter were present on his left sleeve and right leg.
What scared Germany the most was how Italy's eyes were no longer the sweet golden-honey color that they normally were. They'd turned blue—but not sky blue like his own eyes—the blue was so unnaturally bright, Germany had to muster up all the strength he could to resist turning away. While his right eye burned blue, the left side of Italy's face was masked with the black material. Where it covered his eye, Germany could see no iris. No pupil. His eye simply seemed to be an opening through which white light streamed out like a flashlight.
The way Italy spoke to him was strange, too. It didn't even sound like the Italian's voice. It was gravelly and had a slight hissing tone to it.
"sOMetHinG wRoNG, CApTaiN…?"
Germany awoke with a startled shout. He leapt from the bed and landed on the floor with a loud thud. His breathing was panicky and he was sweating immensely. "…Ah…" he sighed. "Just a nightmare… That was an odd one…"
Indeed, Germany did have nightmares, but ones such as these were highly uncommon. A majority of the bad dreams had been about his past and several different wars. But this…? It was plain unusual and strange.
Germany glanced around the room, to make sure that nothing was out of place, and of course, to make sure he wasn't still in a dream. "Hmm…" he said, looking at the door thoughtfully, "I better go check to see if Italy is okay."
As he was walking out of the room, Germany looked over at the two beer bottles and the mug sitting on his study table. Papers were scattered amongst open books and made it look messy. The German shook his head. This isn't the time to drink beer… he warned himself.
Germany reached into a box on the far side of the room and took out two items.
Pasta x2
Then he proceeded to leave the room. He closed the door behind him as he stepped out into the hallway. Germany passed paintings of the world map and several other landscapes, as well as a handmade cuckoo clock that he put on the wall just above the stairs.
The German entered Italy's room to find Italy lying on his bed with his eyes shut peacefully. He approached him and looked over his ally to find him breathing slowly. "…Oh, he's asleep…" Germany muttered. "I better not disturb him. He's been through an awful lot today." He spun on his heel and decided to leave the room. However, before he opened the door, he hesitated. Something didn't seem quite right…
Usually, Italy wasn't that heavy of a sleeper, and could typically acknowledge Germany's presence from a mile away. It was unusual that Italy hadn't even twitched a muscle since Germany entered the room. How odd…
Germany approached Italy again and put two fingers on his ally's wrist. "…His pulse is slow," he said. "Almost like…" Now, the blonde knew that it was normal for the heart rate to slow during sleep, so he shrugged it off at first. And then, something occurred to him.
The German gasped in surprise. "Italy!" He shouted. He slapped Italy, not in attempt to hurt him, but to wake him up. However, the brunette didn't budge, didn't even cringe in pain. He just kept sleeping with the same peaceful expression plastered on his face.
"Italy! Wake up this instant!" Germany commanded. He slapped the Italian two more times, but his attempts were futile. He shook Italy helplessly, but to no avail. Italy didn't wake up.
Germany growled at himself, frustrated. "Ah, how could I be so foolish as to let him go to bed with a concussion!" he scolded himself. He crossed his arms and tapped his boot on the floor impatiently and anxiously. "What should I do now…? I haven't read a manual about comatose yet!"
The German grinded his teeth together in thought. "Grah! It's probably those two's fault!" he exclaimed, tightening his hands into fists. "That England probably knows healing techniques. I'll make him fix it."
After concluding this, Germany made his way to the door. He opened it, but just before he left, he glanced back at Italy as if he would wake up. But he didn't. So Germany shook his head solemnly and left without another word, though he went down the hallway muttering angrily.
And... That's pretty much all for now... This chapter actually turned out longer than the other two. Hopefully it was a bit more interesting as well. I hope you all enjoyed reading this. Merry Christmas! And Happy Holidays!
