No real warnings for this chapter, aside from tricky issues being mentioned.
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, unfortunately...
Thanks to those who took the time to review the last two chapters! Made me happy to read them while typing this out. :)
Starting to work our way out of the fluff here...
Italy woke up face to face with Russia's chest and the taller nation's arm draped over his back, his eyes shooting open and his body stiffening in surprise until he remembered why he was like that. He had come to Russia because it had started to thunderstorm and he hadn't wanted to be alone.
At first, it had seemed like Russia was about to shove him away (it had been like hugging a tree for a moment, the other nation was so still). Germany sometimes gave that reaction to him too. However, if it ever appeared that Italy was upset, Germany would spend as much time as needed holding him and whispering words of comfort. With Russia, he had wholly expected to be pushed off the bed and even out the door. But then he… had rather unexpectedly sung to him. In such a way that in no time he had forgotten about the storm still raging outside and had gone straight to sleep.
Italy smiled contentedly, and –thinking that it might be okay to do so with the normally highly reactive nation so sound asleep—pressed his ear to Russia's chest, hearing the heartbeat of the other nation keeping a strong, steady rhythm. Italy's mind wandered to the time when he'd witnessed the organ on the EU meeting's table. I like his heart much better when it's inside him, Italy thought.
He pulled back a little to examine the other man more closely, also thinking of how, if Russia were to wake up with him pressed against him like this, there was a danger of his being hurt. Russia's chest was a little broader than Germany's, but that could simply have been because of the height difference. Italy then looked up at Russia's face, examining it as well.
Despite his earlier embarrassment about it, Italy really did like the look that Russia's features gained when asleep. After getting the chance to see it again, he found himself wanting to see it more often. Even after this week was over (not even knowing how he would achieve this, but wanting it regardless). He found himself wanting to reach up and gently caress that peaceful expression beneath his fingers-although he didn't dare in case Russia woke to it and had a bad reaction. He found himself wanting to…
Italy frowned a little. Was he getting… attached to Russia? Italy shook his head. He couldn't be. Russia had only been in Italy for three and a half days in total. Before that, he had only seen Russia during meetings (which were admittedly often) – knowing not much about the other nation aside from what his policies were and from the small snippets of conversation pertaining to the country.
Although, it was true that after a few times of seeing it, he did find Ivan's –more genuine—smiles to be nice. During World War II, when the Italy brothers had given themselves up to the allies, they were (mostly kept) as far apart from each other as they could get while still seeing each other. Thus, Italy was never able to see the side that gave such a soft smile, even if the other nations might have once in a while caught a glimpse.
Perhaps… perhaps these few days in his home was all Italy had needed to breach a few of the harsher barriers around the tall nation and see that side of Russia most never saw at all – and he liked what he had seen.
What would Germany say if he knew? Germany heavily disliked Russia, mostly because of what had happened with Prussia while the silverette was in Russia's possession. He only managed to make peace with Russia for business relations. Prussia… Italy had seen Prussia when he was initially allowed back. Out of energy, bruised in both body and spirit, and looking for all the world half-dead. Yet with enough consciousness left to be happy to see Germany, Italy and those of the allies that had made it there to witness his return before passing out in his brother's arms.
Russia – from what stories he had heard about the nation from Prussia- had been brutal to the other nation. There was no other real word to describe it. After hearing Prussia speak, Italy had felt the need to get back at the other nation as much as Germany had. But Russia had seemed like he'd had moments where he was about to snap at Italy and didn't for some reason.
In fact, Russia had shown Italy a side that was the complete opposite, had let Italy see a deeper, more tender, and slightly more vulnerable part. Did that make Italy lucky? Special? He wasn't sure, but he knew he'd have the other nations to back him up if something ever happened.
He wasn't alone.
He hoped.
A part of Italy still set off the alarm bells against Russia's violent mood swings, though. And Italy wasn't ready to turn them off just yet. He'd be careful, like walking into a field of barely covered landmines. He'd turn tail like a true Italian if it ever seemed to swing in the direction of being too much, and Russia probably knew that. But would Russia accept Italy leaving him if it came down to it? Italy decided that would have to be a question to ask Russia himself, if Russia ever decided to reciprocate things, before things got even remotely serious. In fact, there were quite a few things he wanted to ask Russia about before things got serious…
If things ended up working out, that is. He still didn't know if Germany would accept the situation. How would he tell Germany that he couldn't curl up next to him every night because he was with someone else? He'd still try to be there for Germany's nightmares that he had, but how would he let him know that he couldn't always be right there—but Italy at least could be there on the phone, right? How would he take Italy being with someone who nearly destroyed Prussia? How would Prussia himself take it? Italy cringed.
Prussia would probably have a worse reaction than anyone aside from perhaps the Baltics.
What would everyone else think? Romano wouldn't be happy with him for sure. Would France be alright with it? England? America? Japan? China? China, who Italy knew had been in a serious relationship with Russia before? Italy suddenly felt sick. How many might turn their back on him?
Italy didn't want to go into this without telling anybody first and after a little bit of thought decided that one of the first to know should be Germany and Prussia- since they of all the nations deserved the knowledge. He wanted to leave tomorrow if he could. His boss was usually fine with his sudden long-distance trips- as long as Italy got things done once he was back and he was assured that Italy wasn't just shirking duties but actually doing something productive with his time.
-o-
As Italy thought to himself, Russia began to slowly wake up. He was surprised to feel that he had turned around in his sleep to face Italy and even had put his arm over Italy, having distinctly remembered that he'd fallen asleep facing away from the smaller, touch-happy nation.
In his mind, he played back and forth on the idea of letting Italy stay where he was and taking his leave when he could, or not, and see what might come of it if he stayed where he was. Italy would probably get up and leave on his own, eventually.
Italy felt Russia stir from sleep, and immediately tensed up in case Russia had forgotten why he was there. Russia took this reaction into his musings. So Italy was still a little afraid of him since last night. For some reason, he found himself wanting to reassure the other nation, so unlike his usual urge to scare him any further. He acted on the feeling in curiosity to what would happen.
Russia smiled a little, not opening his eyes quite yet. "It's alright, Italy. I won't hurt you," he said and felt Italy relax again next to him.
"Ve, thank you for singing to me last night…" Italy said quietly, snuggling a little closer and feeling Russia's breath against his hair. He missed how Russia stiffened and sucked in a small breath, not quite expecting Italy to get closer to him—only to simply relax, "You could have just laid there and I would've eventually been fine…"
Russia opened his eyes and looked down at Italy. He did now find it a little annoying that there were other methods for Italy to relax, requiring only a little bit of patience on his part. Russia closed his eyes again and gave a small, short hum in response.
Italy looked up at Russia. "Was it annoying to you? That I was like that?"
Russia shook his head. "Not really. Just… surprising at first, da." He surprised himself at his words, very much wanting to tell Italy that he had been annoying, though the statement he gave was… well, half-true. Italy suddenly crawling into his bed had been initially surprising. Although, if Italy ever crawled into his bed again, he wasn't repeating the favor of letting the other nation stay.
Italy nodded. "Ve, I was thinking of heading off to Germany's place tomorrow… just so you know… B-but you can stay here while I'm gone. I should be back pretty soon, but if I'm not and you need to go back to Russia, just leave the key under the doormat and I'll find it…"
"You'd trust me with the key to your house?" Russia asked quizzically.
Italy nodded.
That's interesting, Russia thought. He didn't know if he should see Italy as trusting or stupid. The nation mused to himself that there were certainly a good number of nations that would probably think Italy the as latter.
"Why are you going to Germany's, though?"
"Ve, just… I have something I need to give him that he forgot when he was here," Italy said, looking away.
"Really…?" Russia asked, sensing that Italy was hiding something.
"Really," Italy said, his tone a little more serious. Russia let the issue go. Italy then wiggled himself out of Russia's arms and stood up. "Ve, I'm going to get dressed and make breakfast downstairs. See you down there?"
Russia nodded, sitting up. "Alright," he said, watching Italy exit the room and shut his door, wondering what Italy was up to with Germany. He was partly glad Italy had finally left him alone, though a very small part of him wanted Italy to stay simply so he could ask more questions.
He got out of bed, pushing that smaller part of him into the background. If there were more questions that needed to be asked, they could always be asked later. He got dressed and headed downstairs. Italy was on the phone with one of his bosses, wondering if he could secure a plane over to Germany. The prospects sounded good by the tone of voice Italy was using.
Italy turned around to face him and smiled, then gestured to the plates, jam and pastries already on the table, mouthing for him to sit and start eating. A cup of water and a cup of steaming coffee had also been placed on the table for the both of them.
Russia nodded and sat down, amused that Italy had remembered his preference for water in the morning (seeing as Russia doubted there was any vodka as an option) from yesterday. He grabbed a pastry and took a bite, watching as Italy finished his phone conversation his boss and hung up. "I have to give one more call to Germany and let him know I'm coming over. Then I'll eat with you, okay?" When Russia nodded, Italy walked upstairs and called Germany's number.
Russia wondered why Italy was being so secretive with a simple phone call to Germany, but figured it was none of his business and continued eating.
-o-
Upstairs, Italy quietly shut the door.
"Hello?" Prussia voice sounded on the phone.
"Ve! Hi, Prussia! It's Italy, is Germany there?" Italy asked.
"Hey there, Italy! Sorry, Germany's out right now. Why, do you need me to tell him something? I heard Russia's over at your place, everything okay? I'll kick his ass for you if he touched you!" Prussia answered, his voice taking on a more serious tone on the topic of Russia.
"Ve, I'm fine! Russia hasn't done anything to me," Italy answered.
"Really…?" Prussia asked skeptically.
Why did everyone seem to doubt him today? "Really, though, Prussia, can you let Germany know I'm heading down tomorrow? I want to talk to him in person about something. Well, you too, really…"
"Oh, just spill it. What is it you can't tell the awesome me over the phone?" Prussia asked, voice brimming with confidence.
"Ve, it's something important! But a phone is too impersonal," Italy tried to explain.
"Are you sure it's not just something you simply don't want to say with Russia there?" Prussia asked.
"It is but—" Italy began to say but was cut off.
"I knew it! He did do something to you! That bastard!" Prussia said angrily over the phone. Italy gave a small sigh at how the other nation jumped to such a conclusion so quickly. "How badly are you hurt? Do you need me and Germany to come over there? Just say yes or no."
"I'm not hurt!" Italy exclaimed and then covered his mouth, realizing he might have said that a little too loud. He looked back towards where Russia was before speaking a little quieter. "Ve, I said Russia hasn't done anything to me and I mean it. I just need to talk to you two in private and in person. You'll find out why when I get there."
"Italy…" Prussia pressed in a warning tone.
"Ve, I'm telling the truth, Prussia," Italy murmured. "Can you just let Germany know?"
"Fine, fine, I'll do that, just let me know if Russia doesn't let you go or something, okay? I know how that bastard thinks of people," Prussia replied.
"I will," Italy said.
"Do you promise?" Prussia asked.
"Ve, I promise. Ah, my plane leaves at around 11:00 my time, so I should be there in a few hours after that your time," Italy replied.
"Okay, then. I guess I'll see you whenever you get here. Stay safe, okay?"
"Okay. See you later, Prussia!" Italy gushed.
"See you later, Italy," Prussia ended the call and Italy hung up the phone. He sighed, asking himself one more time how he was going to do this.
As Italy came back down the stairs, he noticed Russia had finished eating and yet was still sitting at the table. The other nation was flipping through an Italian magazine that, judging by the speed at which he flipped the pages, Italy realized he probably wasn't actually reading. Russia looked up when he reached him.
"Ve, you didn't need to wait for me…" Italy said.
Russia shook his head. "I don't mind. Did you get to talk to Germany?"
"No, but P-Prussia's going to let him know I'm coming," Italy said, noticing Russia's face darken a little at the mentioning of Prussia.
"And Prussia's doing well, da?" Russia asked. The smile he gave was a little cold, lacking the warmth Italy had seen the past few days.
"Ah, yeah, he's doing okay…" Italy responded, sitting down to his own breakfast. Though Italy suspected Prussia still wanted a chance to beat Russia into a bloody pulp.
"That's good to hear. The pastries were good. These were the ones you bought down in the city the other day, da?" Russia said, and his expression once more gained a bit of warmth as the subject changed.
Italy nodded. "Yeah, at that one small café we stopped by with Romano before we grabbed a taxi…"
Russia nodded. "Da, I remember. They were very friendly."
"Ve, they were nice people," Italy agreed.
The rest of the day was spent rather uneventfully, the two taking a taxi into the city and having lunch there, with Italy making a new type of pasta for Russia for dinner. At some point after lunch, Italy took the time to call his boss about his trip and, as expected, his boss was reluctant for Italy to take off, but was otherwise fine with it.
-o-
Russia was both happy and surprised at the amount of time he seemed to actually want to spend with Italy and, as the two of them sat on the porch and watched the sun starting to set over the sea, Russia decided to give such close boundaries a small test. Italy's insistence on getting close to him was making him a little unsettled, and he wanted to widen the space between them back to the comfort zone he usually kept with others.
It was a contradiction to how he'd felt before, he knew. But what he thought when he was still half-asleep didn't matter in the face of what he thought when wide awake.
"Italy, you've heard a little bit about my past, da?" he asked, and Italy looked over with a small bit of confusion on his face, wondering why the topic had come up.
"A-a little bit… why?" Italy replied.
"How much do you know?" Russia asked.
"Ve… I know it was really bloody and that there was a lot of fighting…" Italy said softly.
"Mm, but have you heard about what my life was like then?"
Italy thought for a moment, and then realized he didn't really and shook his head. "No… not really…"
"Let me tell you then, da?" Russia replied with a small smile.
"Why?" Italy asked, puzzled.
"Hmm… Because I feel like it," Russia said simply after some thought.
"Ve, you just… feel like it?" Italy repeated apprehensively.
"Da, that is why. Though as you can probably expect, I'd be rather unhappy if you were to use it as leverage for anything. There's no repayment for this except you listening," Russia said.
Italy caught a sliver of danger in Russia's eyes, and quickly shook his head. "I-I won't."
The danger in Russia's eyes dissipated with the simple words and Italy felt like he was able to relax again. "Da, that is good."
Italy listened closely as Russia told Italy about his history, though it wasn't as detailed as he thought it was going to be, Russia skimming over much of his childhood aside from important events. It was true he knew a little bit more about Russia's detailed history past the Crimean War, though he hadn't realized there was just as much warfare and rebellion and bloodshed before that.
He recognized a little bit more of why the other nations called him crazy and not quite sane in the head aside from what he'd seen of Russia's personality during meetings. However, he wasn't there for those events personally, even if Russia's policy simply seemed to be avoidance of a fight until he had been harmed in some way by the other country. But though he had also been passed around between countries a few times, his route had been to go the opposite way of Russia, despite how weak it made his government and military.
It was interesting to compare the two of them. What might it have been like if Italy had forgone the route of peace and art and living the good life? Would he have eventually ended up like Russia one day? In some ways, Italy was glad he'd followed the path he'd chosen, but he could identify with Russia. Certainly his path was a tempting one to follow for one who'd had such a rough beginning.
Russia watched Italy and sat back a little, trying to judge the other nation's expression. "I hope I didn't scare you off," he said with a small smile, though a part of him thought the statement a lie. He wanted Italy to run in fear, to tell Russia he didn't want to be around the larger nation. After all, Russia wasn't the best choice to get close to as Italy so intended on getting.
Even China had eventually begun to see that the consequences of Russia's past - as well as his tendencies towards physically lashing out when he was upset, as part of those consequences- was too much to handle and he was unable to justify keeping any relationship towards Russia other than friendship and business. And, though they had a friendship treaty between their two countries as well as helped each other in bettering themselves and trying to reach out to others, China usually seemed to remember why he'd left in the first place and kept his distance.
Italy looked up, surprising Russia by smiling softly. "No," Italy said, "You didn't… thank you for telling me all that… I think… I think I understand you a little better now, but in a good way…"
"…Really?" Russia asked, intrigued.
Italy nodded. "Yeah… You… seem like you have your reasons for a lot of what you got into…" Except for Prussia, Italy thought to himself. Italy understood the atrocities of World War I, even though he hadn't been battling on the Eastern Front at the time. He knew that up to five times more people died for Russia than the Germans and Austrians. He knew Prussia was the one who attacked the Russian border in World War II as well.
But he'd heard about what Prussia had gone through, and a part of Italy still didn't forgive Russia for it, despite the telling of his history. Granted, Russia had originally been against the dissolution of the Germanic nation but… Prussia came back in a worse state than the Baltics…
"Why…? To Prussia…?" Italy said quietly. He didn't know why, but he felt he needed to ask.
Russia looked at Italy quizzically. He frowned, seeing already where it was going and not liking it. It was a sore topic in his history, and he was growing tired of people reminding him of it and accusing him for what he was only indirectly involved in. Besides that he and Italy had already seemed to grow close enough that Russia had assumed the other nation must have put the issue in the past. "Hm? Prussia? I thought you knew this already." How many times do I have to explain about him?
"I just… I don't understand… Even though I know what he did during the World Wars, you… you and your army… did so many horrible things to him, his women, his citizens in general… " Italy said quietly.
"I don't want to talk about this, da," Russia replied with a strained smile that clearly broadcasted that the topic hadn't needed to be brought up and didn't need to be elaborated on.
Italy pressed on boldly. "He's my good friend. I care about him. I want to know why."
Russia's smile widened a little, becoming more on the brink of insane. "Since you truly seem to not know then, I'll tell you, da? Listen closely because I won't be repeating myself. After the Tsar fell, like Germany, my only job became training the members of the military and watching over Prussia. If Prussia provoked me while in my care, I reacted accordingly, in the same way I reacted if anyone else retaliated against me. Da, I did send him to the gulags for a time after he decided to be aggressive towards me, but then I took him back when I saw he was starting to become unable to defend himself against simple humans. I had enough to deal with when Poland started making plans for independence among everyone in my care that I mistakenly let my government handle the treatment of Prussia's people after I gained him. They nearly killed him and I am regretful for letting things come to that. It was hard for me as well to even keep him breathing sometimes. But what was done was done. It can't be changed and either it's accepted or it's not."
Italy opened his mouth as if to make a statement about this. Russia but did not let Italy get a word in and continued. "You should know what it feels like to lose a part of what you considered yourself. It is agony, da? As if a part of your body is fighting its hardest against you. Now imagine that multiplied fourteen times, and that was how I felt. There were fourteen different places on my body that caused me quite a bit of pain. I had little time to deal with any one nation in particular. However, leaving Prussia to my government wore his strength down more than if he was left simply in my care. I did not appreciate what extra actions my government did to him, but my voice was not heard by my government until the deeds were done."
Russia took yet another few breaths, thinking back on those days which he did not care to remember. "Yes, I lashed out at him when my territories began to leave me and will admit to causing the injuries you saw on him when the wall fell, but you could say I had my reasoning, da? I lashed out at anyone I could get my hands on if I thought it might make them stay because I did not know what else to do and it was the suggestion my government gave to me. I regret now listening to the lies of my bosses, especially because their 'help' only made things worse. I was, though, quite desperate to keep unity among my states. The concept of being alone is not a nice thought for anyone, particularly when they are in as much pain as I was."
Italy withered in his seat, processing the information. He had only ever heard Prussia's side of the story, so what he'd learned was new. But even still… the very thought of the nation who'd helped him unify his country and gain independence being hurt made his heart clench. Russia seemed so casual about it, even when he gave his reasoning and regrets behind it. "You… even while you were in pain, you didn't have to touch him…"
Russia frowned at him and stood up, walking over to Italy and seeming to study him. For a moment, the other nation thought that with Russia's absolutely terrifying expression and the way the tall nation's fists, jaw and arm muscles were clenched so tightly, that perhaps this time he'd really done it. He was going to die a horrible bloody death and his body would be either unrecognizable or never found. Perhaps it was good that Russia's pipe was elsewhere. However, Russia was as strong as America, so the man probably thought the weapon wasn't needed in the face of someone like Italy. As Russia began to raise one of his hands, Italy closed his eyes- preparing himself for the first blow.
It didn't come.
A sound like a wrecking ball crashing through wood resounded instead. When Italy finally looked up, he saw that Russia had punched his arm through his house and was giving him the type of grin that dared Italy to ask his question again.
On seeing Italy's widened eyes and the way the brunette was opening and closing his mouth like a fish, Russia chuckled darkly and pulled out his arm from the hole he'd made.
"Perhaps it might be wise for us both to head off to bed, hm? I'd appreciate it if we didn't speak of this topic again," Russia told Italy. He then walked back into the house, sliding the patio door shut behind him.
"Ah, Russia—" Italy began to say in response after he was finally able to take his eyes off the hole in the side of his house- his tone nervous and still holding a tinge of fear- but the Russian had taken big enough strides that he was up the stairs before Italy could fully turn around. That had been a close call in terms of his safety, but in the back of his mind Italy fretted that he might have struck too much of a nerve and had damaged their relationship beyond repair.
He didn't follow Russia, and didn't repeat crawling into the other's bed that night, spending the night curled up alone.
-o-
The next morning, Italy knocked on Russia's door. Upon receiving no answer, he cautiously opened the door.
"Ve, Russia?" he asked softly. On no further answer opened the door fully. He froze, however, when he saw that Russia was missing from the room. Although Italy still had the sensation that Russia was still somewhere in his country, the personification himself was gone. The bed was already made, and the taller nation's bags were missing.
Flooded with feelings of guilt and dread, Italy leaned against the doorframe for a moment. He then went back downstairs and made a phone call to Germany. This time, Germany picked up. He sounded understanding about Italy's decision not to come over after all and didn't prod on the reasoning.
Italy was thankful for Germany not asking about what might have happened between the phone calls. He was certain that, had Germany asked, he would have broken down about causing Russia to snap at him. If Germany heard that, - and perhaps after he would have scolded Italy for provoking Russia like that before assuring him – more tension would only be created between the Germanic nation and Russia.
Germany had enough to worry about without feeling like he needed to protect Italy's interests.
Thanks go to Sweet_and_Simple for beta-ing :)
Notes for those who want them:
Contrary to a lot of stuff written about Russia in fanfiction post WWII... Stalin was very, very paranoid about the people around him and their loyalty. I don't think it would be too far-fetched to have this paranoia extend to the personification of his country, no matter what Russia might have had to say about it. But being unable to do away with his country, all Stalin really could have done was put Russia into a lower rank- just high enough to still have information pass through, but low enough that his opinions could be over-ridden.
For Prussia... my take on that is what's written up there, pretty much. Not completely taking the blame from Russia for any abuse, but taking away the blame for a small chunk of Prussia's final condition.
There's also mention in the famed "Christmas Bloodbath" (for those Hetalians that keep up with that stuff), of Russia saying something along the lines of Russia being confused over why he can't make friends as every one of his bosses has told him to use force. Which led me to believe Russia is (or used to be) slightly gullible towards what his bosses said to him...
(should add: that's not my personal opinion of Russia as the actual country or its people... just in case anyone raises an eyebrow at that. It's just my gain from what Himaruya wrote... :P)
So... think I've covered everything for this chapter, there.
Until next time!
