A/N: La la la…I hate snowy weekends…but it means more chapters for you guys!
I usually update on weekends, but I hope to update as much as I can with school and junk
Poor Feli….but at least they finally admitted they love each other : )
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"A warning to the people,
The good and the evil;
This is war…
To the soldier, the civilian,
The martyr, the victim;
This is war…
It's the moment of truth and the moment to lie;
The moment to live and the moment to die;
The moment to fight, the moment to fight, to fight, to fight, to fight….."
oOoOoOo
"God dammit, Ludwig Beilschmidt! Get your ass back here!"
Prussia stalked out of the house after his stumbling brother, his pale features contorted in annoyance. Germany had woken up ten minutes beforehand, at about four in the morning, of course, and upon discovering Italy's absence leapt out of bed and out the door. Prussia sighed in frustration, picking up speed to catch up with his brother.
"Look, West, we can't have you running around when you just got bombed! At least rest for another day!"
"Can't." Germany grumbled as his brother finally caught up, grabbing onto the blonde's arm and forcing him to a halt. Icy blue eyes met scarlet, and Prussia sighed again.
"Look, bruder, I know you…care for little Italy, but please think rationally-"
"Oh that's rich, coming from you."
"…point taken." Prussia chuckled wryly, running a hand through his snowy locks. "But seriously, bruder, you can't just march in there and demand him. You'll just create conflict, and Arthur'll have your ass fer sure."
"But France is going to hurt him." Germany said, his voice almost a whine. Prussia rolled his eyes, snorting.
"I can't believe it! Somebody actually got mine bruder to whine like a lovestruck teen."
He carefully avoided the blonde's fist that rushed toward him, laughing aloud as his younger brother scowled.
"Gilbert, I swear, I'm going to kill you!"
"Oh, like you could kill the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt!" Prussia cackled, dodging his brother's fist. What he'd really been doing is testing his brother's strength, seeing how bad the damage from the bombs was. Thankfully, it seemed as if the damage hadn't been that excessive, and Germany was now walking steadily. Still…
"You can't go up against France and Russia. Hell, not even I would be that foolish, bruder, and that's saying a lot."
"But Gil-"
"Nope. You are absolutely not storming off to France's house, Lud, and that's final." Prussia threw his brother over his shoulder, catching Germany completely by surprise.
"Gilbert, what the hell do you think you're doing? Put me down!"
"Nope."
"Damn you, Gilbert, PUT ME DOWN!"
But Prussia refused to comply with his brother's request, and brought the reluctant man back into the house. He threw him onto the bed in a not-so-nice manner, causing Germany to yelp. Prussia snorted, pointing down at his brother.
"You stay here, alright? I'll…damn it, I'll go to England, and we'll see what we can do…about Italy…"
Prussia jumped as Germany threw his arms around him in a rare show of brotherly affection. He felt a smile creeping on his now pink face as he sighed.
"Alright, alright, that's enough…anyway, I guess I have to get going. But I sent a message to Roderich and he'll be coming back in a few hours, so don't you dare try anything." Prussia's glare was hard like rubies, and Germany made a face.
"I'm not going anywhere, Gilbert. Just go talk to Arthur. Please." He added in a soft voice, and Gilbert nodded.
"I will. I'll try and get this solved, Lud…I promise, no, I swear I will. I haven't seen you so happy in a long time." Prussia smiled fondly, and Germany raised his eyebrows, pondering the statement. Prussia ruffled his hair the moment he was distracted, and then darted out of the room, waving over his shoulder. Germany watched him leave, leaning back onto his pillows.
Am I really that different…? All because of him…?
oOoOoOo
"Veneziano?"
Italy blinked open his eyes, shutting them again as they were assaulted by bright sun. He sighed, rolling to bury his face in the pillow.
"Nn…"
"Veneziano, please, you need to come quickly." Romano said softly, shaking his younger brother's shoulder. Italy's eyes finally drifted open, blinking up at his brother sleepily.
"What….Romano, what are you doing…?"
"Quickly!" Romano hissed, handing his brother a cell phone. Italy blinked, glancing at it, then his brother.
"Fratello, what is this?"
"Canada's cell phone." Romano said quietly, sighing. "He didn't have it taken away, since he joined semi-willingly, and he wanted to let you use it to talk to Germany. Yeah, we figured it out, not that it wasn't freaking obvious."
Italy blushed lightly, but he was smiling when he whispered.
"Grazie, fratello…"
"Just do it." Romano muttered, but Italy smiled when he saw his brother's ears turning red. Italy flipped the phone open, typing the number swiftly from so many previous calls….Italy smiled at the thought, putting the phone to his ear. One ring….two…three…his heart began to hammer insanely fast, but then there was a click, and the sound of a drowsy voice, and it sped up even faster.
"'lo?"
"Ah, L-Ludwig?" Italy stammered, and he heard Germany's sharp gasp and the phone clattering to the ground. Several grumbled curses later, the phone was brought back up and he could hear the other nation clearly.
"Feliciano! Are you alright?"
"Ah, I-I'm fine, Ludwig, really…" there was a silence on the other end of the line, and Italy could clearly imagine the glare on Germany's face. He sighed, amending. "Well, Francia hit me a few times, but really, I'm alright."
"Feliciano…" Germany sighed. "I told you not to go back."
"I know…b-but I got them to stop bombing you! Now it'll be better for you!"
"I would have preferred having you!" Germany snapped, startling both Italies. Romano snorted.
"Wow, didn't believe the potato bastard had enough room in his heart to care like that."
"I heard that, Romano." Germany growled, and Italy chuckled giddily.
"See, you sound better. And if I stay here, I can keep them from doing it ever again."
"But it's not safe for you there, Feliciano." Germany argued, sounding rather upset. "If you try to oppose them, they'll hurt you again."
"I'm not so worried about Francia." Italy said frankly. "Though…well, Russia does scare me a bit."
"Only a bit?" Germany chuckled grimly. "Hell, he scares me, Feliciano."
"He scares everyone, I think." Italy laughed nervously. "But really, I think it'll be fine. They only want my troops-they know I'm basically useless."
"You're not useless." Germany and Romano said in unison, Romano glaring at the phone, and Italy had a feeling Germany was doing the same. He smiled vaguely.
"Yeah, I guess."
"Feliciano…" Germany said, a warning tone in his voice. However, there was a noise on his end, which startled him. Italy cocked his head curiously.
"What was that?"
"Ah, probably Roderich. Gilbert mentioned that he'd be stopping by." Germany sighed. "I guess I have to go, then. But it was really lovely to hear your voice, Feli."
Italy could hear the smile in the older nation's voice, and he felt one creeping onto his as well.
"Yours as well. Please take care, Ludwig."
"You too, Feliciano. Watch out for yourself, don't let them hurt you."
"I'll try." Italy jumped when he heard footsteps approaching in the hall. He cupped his hand around the speaker, whispering. "I'll try to call you later. Ciao, Ludwig, and…I-I love you."
"I love you too." Germany replied, and he added in a very faint voice. "I love you so much."
"I know." Italy said just as softly, shutting the phone just as the door opened. He tucked his hand under his leg, placing his carefree smile on his face like always.
"Ve, Francia, buon giorno!"
"Ah, bon matin, Italy…did you sleep well?"
Italy nodded quickly, and Romano shot him a glance before looking up at their captor.
"You could let us go home now, France. You know we won't be going anywhere."
"Ah, I really want to, but I can't…you see, Russia believes that you, especially, would try to run for the other side. I can see his fears so, for now…the two of you have to stay here."
"Bastard!" Romano spat, his hazel eyes narrowing. "Since when did you turn into such a cold hearted bastard, France? A man who keeps his old friends locked away in his house like prisoners?"
"I don't want it to be this way!" France cried, his blue eyes wide and looking suddenly rather sad. "I never wanted things to end up like this, but…this war…desperate times…"
"Yeah, yeah we know." Romano scowled. "Save it for someone who cares, Francis."
France glared at him frostily, but when he glanced at the younger Italian, who had his legs curled up and his head sunk behind them, he felt a sharp pang of regret once again. He tried to reach out to the small nation, but when Italy recoiled he jerked the arm back. A long frown graced his lips, and he turned and walked out of the room, leaving the two brothers alone again. Italy sighed, saying in a quiet voice as he handed the phone to his brother.
"Tell Matthew grazie from me…"
"Of course." Romano nodded, frowning sadly. He hated seeing his brother in such a state, but he also knew there was nothing else he could do. It was war, and war was hard-they'd both learned that years ago. But to have the one he loved on the opposite side….Romano knew how heart breaking that could be. He put his arm around his brother's thin shoulders, hugging him to his chest for a moment before letting go and walking out of the room, trying to ignore the sounds of his brother's faint sobs behind him…
oOoOoOo
"Ludwig?"
Austria entered the room just as Germany was putting the phone down on the table. The blonde man turned, a faint smile on his face that caused Austria to pause.
"Hello, Roderich."
"How are you feeling?" The dark haired man asked, ad Germany laughed bitterly.
"I've been better…and worse, sadly." He sighed. "But it's not so bad now that they've stopped."
"You don't sound exactly happy about that." Austria remarked, and Germany sighed again.
"Fe-Italy had to go back to the bastard France's house to make him stop."
"Italy went back?" Austria's voice rose slightly in pitch, betraying his worry for the young nation. After all, he'd watched over the northern half of Italy for many years, and he'd grown attached to the gleeful young man. He also knew of Italy's tendency toward foolishness, hence his fear.
"Ja, he went back." Germany said, a slight growl in his voice. "He wanted to make France stop bombing, so he went back to stop him from doing it, and to keep him from trying again."
"What good is Italy going to do to that effect?" Austria muttered, going over to Germany's bed to change his bandages, but a firm hand on his thin wrist stopped him.
"They're fine. I already told him he was being stupid but he insists on staying there. I just hope he'll be alright…"
"I'm sure he will." Austria assured him as sadness filled the sky blue orbs of his sometime friend. "His brother is there, as is Canada."
"Canada joined France?" Germany's head shot up in surprise. Austria nodded grimly.
"Just last night."
"But…" Germany's frown deepened. "America's on England's side."
"I know. It surprised many of us, frankly-him most of all." Austria sighed, fidgeting with his coat sleeves. "But it's a good thing in a way-he's rather fond of young Italy, he can watch over him."
"He already let Italy use his phone." Germany mumbled, remembering his surprise at the name displayed on his caller id. Austria looked surprised, but then said with a vague smile.
"At least you got to talk to him. It upset me very much to learn that France had forced Italy to join him." Austria admitted. "Especially since I knew of the feelings you held for him."
Germany choked, a blush on his cheeks as he gaped at the brunette.
"Y-you knew?"
Austria nodded, snorting slightly as he turned his gaze out the window.
"It was more obvious than you'd like to think, Ludwig. Gilbert discovered it during World War Two, and I'm fairly certain Romano did as well. Did you not notice how rude he was to you?"
"How could I not?"
"He was only doing that to protect Italy. He didn't want his little brother to get hurt by you."
"I would never hurt Feliciano." Germany said quietly, and Austria raised a delicate eyebrow, replying.
"Not purposefully, no, but sometimes…well, sometimes love hurts, Ludwig. Believe me, I've seen it happen many a time." Austria smiled wryly, thinking about his ex-wife, with whom he still held an off-an-on relationship. Germany nodded in understanding.
"I know. I've seen it as well, but…" he sighed. "I want to be with him, Roderich. More than I've ever wanted anything before. Is that awful?"
Austria shook his head, his smile growing warm again as he turned back to face his old friend. He was so glad Germany had finally found someone-he had gone his entire existence without someone, and it was really no wonder then that he had no idea what it felt like to love. Just seeing him so flustered…Austria chuckled.
"That's perfectly normal."
oOoOoOo
"Gilbert?"
Prussia shut the door behind him, not meeting the emerald eyes of the other nation whose office he had entered. He didn't want to be here, but his brother had looked so pitiful…
"Did you need something?" England glared up at the albino. "I'm rather busy."
"I have a request. Well, it's not really me-Lud's the one who asked me to come."
"Oh yes; how is your brother doing?" England asked, though Prussia could tell it was a formality, that England really didn't give a damn what happened to Germany. The thought angered him, but he kept his bravado as he replied.
"He's doing fine for having, you know, bombs dropped on him for six fucking hours."
"You make it sound like that's somehow my fault." England remarked, and next thing he knew he'd been hauled up so that he was level with angry red eyes. He smiled, thinking just how similar the brothers were.
"You know it's your God damned fault, England!" Prussia yelled. "You started this fucking war, you dragged my brother into this!"
"Put me down, Gilbert." England replied calmly, ignoring the accusations, but Prussia just shook him.
"I hate that fucking attitude of yours! You started this, and you sure as hell are going to fix it!"
"And how do you propose I do that?" England glared at the ex-nation. "I can't control what that bastard and his allies decide to do-"
"Well for starters you could keep your promise and get Italy out of the war."
"I never promised that." England snapped, finally releasing Prussia's fingers from his collar. "I said I wouldn't drag him into it, I never said anything about stopping France from doing so."
"You fucking asshole!" Prussia yelled, features contorted in fury. "Do you not care at all about your own allies?"
"Last I checked, neither of the Italies were my allies." England replied coolly, and Prussia punched him square in the face.
"You bastard…I can't believe you. Fine." Prussia turned on his heel, opening the door to exit. "If you won't do anything, then I will."
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Bon Matin- Good Morning (in French)
