"Il mondo sta morendo..non c'è nulla che io possa fare per salvare più. I miei figli...sta a voi a portare la salvezza al mondo."
Romano opened his eyes to the phone ringing. He picked it up and before he could speak he heard his brother's crying. "Feliciano, calm down. What's wrong?"
"I had a dream about Grandpa Rome," Italy cried, "I miss him."
Romano sighed, "I miss him too, Fratello. What happened in the dream?"
"He told me that the world was dying and it was up to us to save it."
"Feli...I had the same dream."
Italy was silent on his side of the phone. "So it was a vision?"
"Si," Romano answered. He leaned back against the headboard and looked down at Spain who was still sleeping. That man could sleep through anything. "Did you hear anything on Gilbert yet?"
"Not yet. I just know that he's still alive. Ludwig still doesn't know anything about it yet, I don't want to worry him. So I'm worrying for him."
"Gilbert is going to be fine." Romano whispered low so Spain didn't hear him, "He is Ludwig's awesome brother. I don't think he's going to give up, especially since Alfred's brother kept him going for so long. Even if he can't see Matthew, I'm sure what happened before will keep him going."
"Si...how's Antonio doing with this?"
"He's handling it pretty good. He prays every night and I hear him pray for Gilbert's safety. I pray too."
"Me too...I gotta go, Ludwig just woke up. I'll see you at Mass tonight."
"See you then." Italy hung up and Romano sighed, putting the phone away. He brought his knees to his chest and crossed his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees. Sometimes he was thankful that Spain's house was so far away from all the pain and war that was raging in the East. He was able to keep up thanks to the news from Canada on America and Italy since he's staying with Germany. But at times he felt so out of the loop, he felt like a coward hiding here with Spain. He closed his eyes and felt tears run down his cheek.
'Grandpa Rome, I'm sorry! I failed you! I can't be strong like you. Even Fratello is stronger than me not fearing the Soviets and living so close to them. I ran away like a coward!' He was unaware that he had begun sobbing softly and it woke Spain up. He felt arms around him and he gasped, seeing Spain on his knees and hugging him. Romano let out a choked sob and buried himself into the Spaniard's chest. "I'm a coward!"
"What do you mean, Lovi?"
"I ran away from the world! I won't face this war like Feli is! Here I am hiding like a scared little child! What do I do?" He sobbed into Spain's chest and he felt Spain's arms tighten around him. As much as this was comforting, he still felt terrible. "Antonio, I want to see my brother."
"You want to go to Ludwig's house?" Spain asked hesitantly, "You're going to see Feliciano at Mass, why go now?"
"I just have a feeling, I need to see him."
"Okay, Lovi. We'll go."
***Deliver Us***
Italy paced his room, muttering prayers softly. He kept hearing voices as he was cooking breakfast. He'd ask Germany if he heard anything and the blond would say no. He left, not even eating his breakfast. He held his rosary beads, shaking it in his hand gently. "Lovino, arrivare presto."
There was knock at the door. "Feli," Germany called, "Your brother is here."
Italy looked as Romano opened the door and walked it. "Fratello, are you okay?" Italy looked down and Romano walked over to him. He took his brother's hands and held them. "Feli, what happened? Tell me, please."
"I kept hearing voices," Italy muttered, "They keep telling me the same words. Blood, death, war, suffering...end it. I don't understand it!"
Romano hushed him and pulled him close. "Shh, it's okay, Fratello. Solo pregare Dio e siate guidati. Abbiamo entrambi capiranno questi messaggi un giorno. E quando quel giorno arriverà, siamo in grado di aiutare il mondo." Italy looked up at his twin brother and smiled a little. Romano smiled and ruffled his hair. "Now, let's go fix some food for the German and the Spaniard."
Italy stood up straight. "You'll never call him Antonio will you?"
"I have, just only around him," Romano said with a wink, it made Italy blush a little. They both emerged from the room to see Germany and Spain watching TV, but Spain was sleeping. "Who would've thought that bastard would be asleep right now."
"Be nice, Fratello!" Italy whined smacking him gently. Romano smirked and he thought he caught a smile on Germany's face. It was rare that he ever saw that man smile, but he knew that his little brother made him happy. "Come on, Lovi! Let's go make lunch!"
***Deliver Us***
America opened his eyes to hear a scream in pain. He threw his head back and banged himself up against the bamboo bars. He looked around, seeing his comrades tied up like he was, their bodies bloodied and beat up. The scream was heard again and America looked around faster, trying to figure this out. The last thing he remembered was hiding in the bushes to snipe the enemy, then the next thing he knew he was here. "Where are we?" he asked in a panicked voice.
"I don't know," a soldier muttered.
"It's one of the Viet Cong's prision camp," another soldier said quietly, "I've been here for many nights I lost count after about a month. You don't want to know what happens."
"Can we escape?" America asked.
"Many have tried...and died for it. We don't know how we got here, so we can't get out easily. They are always watching us." The soldier looked around when he heard a woman's voice speak. "Oh no...it's her."
"Who?" America asked urgently.
"Well well well, I thought it was too good to be true to see you here, Alfred."
America smirked and looked up. "Yên...you look as beautiful as ever. No wonder Francis tried everything to keep you."
"Shut it!" she snapped kicking America in the ribs. He doubled over, coughing hard. Opening his eyes, he then saw blood. He looked around slowly, seeing the other soldiers cringing in fear. The girl walked behind him and cut his binds off of the bamboo, but then tied his wrists together again. "I don't trust you with your hands free."
"I won't rape you if that's what you mean," America laughed, "I'll leave that to Russia because obviously that's what he does to China." He felt the burning sting from her hand connecting with his face. He glared at her under his eye lashes.
"Don't you dare say that about Yao!" she yelled, "He's a great man! He's a lot stronger than you, you pathetic Western boy!"
"Don't call me a boy," America muttered darkly, "You know what happened to the last person who called me that?" He lifted his head, the soldiers shuddered seeing him smirking with blood running down his chin, his cheek bleeding from the nail marks from the slap. "He almost died by my hand. If you want to live, then I suggest you better not call me a boy."
North Vietnam's eyes widened in fear. She had never seen him so threatening before. She looked at the few soldiers she brought with her. "Hold him steady, we bring him with us." She walked out and America was soon confronted with four Viet Cong soldiers. Two flanked him and grabbed his arms tightly. One stayed behind him and the other in front of him.
He smirked. "You scared of me?" She ignored him as she led the way. "Come on, do you fear me? It's okay if you do. Ivan fears me. Why do you think he's doing this?"
"I have nothing to fear if you are restrained."
"If I'm walking, then I'm not restrained." America jumped and kicked his legs in every direction possible. He managed to knock the soldiers down and ran after North Vietnam. She reacted quickly, pulling out her dagger and stabbing it into America's side. He yelled in pain, but kept standing. She yanked the blade out and stabbed his thigh hard. America yelled again and collapsed, the blade cutting more on his leg. He curled up, biting his lip and groaning in pain.
She walked over to him and kicked him hard several times in the stomach. "Damn you! It's because of you that your soldiers are suffering. If only you had stayed out and let Communism move. But no, you had to invade my land and bomb my cities. Your soldiers have raped and pillaged my villages, heartless bastards!" She kicked him hard again and he cough up more blood. She turned on her heels. "You scum soldiers, what are you waiting for? Pick him up, we're still going to show him what his men go through."
***Deliver Us***
America woke up screaming, waking up the few sleeping soldiers and frightening the others. He looked around and saw the soldiers in the dim moonlight. It was quite macabre to revisit what he saw in his sleep. Daily he was brought to those tortures and watched them. She even tortured him in her own way, using her knowledge of Japan against him.
Her voice echoed in the back of his mind. 'You think we wouldn't find out after he tried to stop this war? You're foolish, just like he was. That cut was nothing compared to what Ivan really wants to do to him.'
America struggled viciously against his binds. "She can't keep me here! She won't kill me!"
"Shh," a soldier hissed, "you'll wake them up."
"Too late, boys," North Vietnam's voice purred almost happily, "Good morning, America. It's a little early but I think you might want to go ahead and get this over with. Grab him."
Three soldiers unbound him from the bamboo and then tied his arms up again. "Move!" They pushed him and he began walking, they had tied rope on his ankles to keep him from running and kicking. The other American soldiers watched him leave, their eyes scanning over the slashes on his back and arms.
"Oh Alfred, I saw your beloved Kiku again today during a meeting." America glared at the girl's back. "He seemed to be getting closer to Arthur and Matthew. I haven't seen him alone yet he's always been with those guys. Maybe he's moved on from you."
"He wouldn't do that!" America almost shouted. He was hit hard upside the head by a soldier.
"No no, don't knock him out. I want him awake." They entered the same room America had been going to for several weeks. "You know what to do."
America struggled against the soldiers that began to strip him naked and tie him to hand from the ceiling. His feet barely touched the ground and he struggled to break free. He pulled up and his arms held him up, shaking. He had to get out and get to Japan before she could hurt him.
"You're quite a restless one," she laughed.
America felt the first sting of the whip and he shook violently, almost losing his grip on the bars above him. Tears stung his eyes and he resisted the urge to scream. He tensed himself, ready for another strike. When it came, he let out a small cry of pain as it lashed against an older cut. He felt blood run down his back, and along with his own dirty sweat kept a long painful sting in the fresh wounds. His screams echoed throughout the camp and the other captured soldiers cringed and cried over their leader's torture.
America glared at North Vietnam as she walked around him. He was tied down into a chair still naked. Secretly he wanted to break down sobbing, but something in him refused to let him crack. "You aren't afraid of me, are you?"
North Vietnam smiled and leaned over by him. "Not when you're like this." She giggled. "Oh I'm sure if this was 30 years ago Kiku would love watching this."
"Leave Kiku out of this!" America yelled. He grunted when she pulled on his hair.
"Don't worry, I won't hurt him...but I can't promise that Ivan won't do something about it." America struggled in the chair, making his bounds cut into his skin, he yelled in anger and pain. She laughed and put her blade against his neck. The man froze instantly. "I'll let you go...when I'm finished with you for now. I'm having too much fun right now." She raised her blade and cut America's cheek. He hissed in pain.
Then his bounds were cut...America pulled his arms up and looked at the rope wounds. His arms were littered with cuts from rope and her blade.
She smirked. "Go home, I'm tired of seeing your face." She turned around and America saw his chance, he tackled her to the ground, wrestling her blade from her hands. He was kicked off of her and he rolled, realizing he had the blade. He jumped up and charged at her. She kicked her heeled boot out into his gut and he doubled over. She spun around him, grabbed the arm wielding the stolen blade, she kicked his knees out from under him and he collapsed to his knees. She pressed her heel into his back and pressed the barrel of her handgun against his head. America didn't struggle, but he tensed up, ready for the shot. "When I say 'Go home', I didn't mean for you to go after me. I'm letting you free, how can you resist that offer?"
"You have my men," America muttered, "I won't abandon them!"
"Oh but you must," North Vietnam chimed, "I won't kill you, I'm leaving that to Ivan. But Yao told me to have my fun with you. I'm finished, you can go home."
"I won't leave my men behind!"
"Very well..."
America's vision went black and all feeling left.
***Deliver Us***
Japan rushed into the hospital in Tokyo, he saw some of the injured soldiers sent to their military hospital. He ran to the nurse. "Where's Alfred? I heard he was brought in here."
"Follow me," the nurse said. Japan followed closely. He was in such a hurry that he didn't even put on his normal street clothes, he ran in wearing his black hakamas, a white tank top and his kimono top over it. He didn't even tie the obi to close the shirt. "He went through a lot. When the medics brought him in, he was screaming in his sleep. There was a lot of damage to his body. He's on an IV to prevent infection and we've got blood and fluids going into his body. He's under a sedative so we can only hope that he'll fight any infection that's already there."
"Will he be okay?" Japan asked quietly.
"We can only pray." She opened the door and Japan nearly broke into tears. America was laying in the bed, bandages covering his body, needles and tubes coming out of his body. "We called his brother and father and they'll be in when they can. They told me to call you because you were the closest."
"Arigato," Japan muttered bowing slightly. The nurse bowed and left. Japan walked into the room and knelt by America's bed. "Alfred?" There was no response, but the beeping of the machines showed that he was alive. "Alfred, what has she done to you?" He let his tears pour out and he cried. He gripped America's hand as hard as he could avoiding the needle. "Alfred, you've got to fight this! I know you can! You're supposed to be the hero!"
He cried for a while, then he fell asleep beside America's bed, holding his hand still. Canada, France, and England walked in quietly and saw Japan asleep. France gripped England's shaking hand tightly and watched as Canada walked over to the other side and brushed his brother's hair out of the way.
"Alfred..." Canada muttered. He fought tears back the best he could. He jumped feeling a hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw his father. France smiled kindly and wrapped a strong arm around him. "Will he be okay?"
"I'm sure he will," France answered quietly. He looked over at England, who was still standing still in complete shock and horror. His green eyes were glazed over as if he were revisiting memories. "Arthur? Iggy?"
England looked up from his daze and shuddered. He met France's eyes. "What?"
"You going to be okay?"
England nodded. "Yeah." He walked up alongside of France and Canada, looking down at America. "You bloody wanker...I told you to not get yourself involved with this war!"
Japan lifted his head and gasped. "Oh, Matthew, you're here...and with Arthur and Francis." He stood up. "He hasn't woken at all?"
Canada shook his head. "We just got here..."
England started sobbing, "You bloody git! Don't you dare die on me!" He grabbed America's limp arm and shook him. "Don't you dare die! I swear to God if you die I'll summon you from the depths of Hell and lock you up so you can't do something stupid again! You bloody wanker!" England dropped to his knees and sobbed onto the bed. France knelt behind him and hugged him close.
"Dad...don't call me...wanker..."
Canada gasped, "Alfred!"
They all looked and saw America opening his blue eyes slowly. He smirked almost painfully. "I'm not going to die, Dad. Don't pull out your black magic." Japan knelt beside the bed again and started crying onto his chest. America looked down. "Kiku?"
"I thought you'd never wake up..." Japan muttered in between sobs, "I thought I lost you..."
"Shh," America coaxed, stroking Japan's hair. Japan lifted his head and looked at him seeing that smile he always flashes. "The hero never dies."
***Deliver Us***
"You sure you're going to be okay?" Canada asked hesitantly as he hoisted the bags into the room. America stood still for a moment and closed his eyes. "Alfred?"
"I'll be fine," America muttered, "Thank you."
"I'll be in the yard if you need me." Canada said. He wrapped his arms around his taller brother and hugged him tightly. "Welcome back home."
America listened to the door close and he walked over to his bed, stripping off his jacket and tank top. He flopped onto the bed and rolled over to his back, looking up at the ceiling. He couldn't think of how he ended up in Tokyo, but he was quite grateful for it. He got to see Japan healthy once again. His boss told him to stay home from the war because he had a feeling that this war would be over soon.
But that bothered him, despite the war almost ending, he knew that his people were still over there being kept prisoners and tortured to their own death. It was like he was the only person who worried about that. He sat up with a groan. "I can't be thinking about that right now...I'm home, I need to relax." He walked over to his dresser and opened a drawer, he rummaged through it and pulled out a single slip of paper. "Untouched..." He tore off a small piece and looked at it for a long time. "It's supposed to be good. I hope this will help me forget." He placed the small piece of paper onto his tongue and let it dissolve before letting it trickle down his throat.
He fell back against his beanbag, waiting for the trip to begin. He looked around slowly, waiting for something to move or talk or change colors. He felt his heart skip a beat and after one blink, his room turned into a jungle. He looked around in awe. What a trip this was! He held out his hands in front of him and he froze...there was blood on his hands. He looked down and saw a fallen gun. "Wait...I'm not supposed to be here!" He closed his eyes, shaking his head violently. When he opened his eyes again, he felt his stomach drop.
The tortures...they followed him. Everywhere he turned he saw his soldiers against every single torture known to him because of this war. "No! No! Oh God no!"
Canada froze when he hear his brother's blood-curdling scream from the house. He dropped his rake and bolted toward the house. "ALFRED!"
Japan heard the scream just a few blocks down the street. He stopped dead in his tracks, remembering the scream he had one night after a terrible nightmare. He dropped the bouquet of flowers and bag of burgers and ran his hardest toward Canada's house. He saw the abandoned rake and he ran for the open door. "Matthew!" he called.
"Upstairs!" Canada shouted back. Japan ran up the stairs and found Canada trying to grapple America. His eyes were completely dilated, wide, and crazy with fear. He was thrashing about the room, destroying everything in his path. Japan watched America tumble to the floor and began to convulse, still screaming at the top of his lungs of agony and terror. "Help me!" Canada shrieked as he tried to pin his brother's arms down.
Japan threw his jacket off and ran over. "Call the medics, I'll handle this!" He grabbed America's flailing arms and managed to pin them down firmly with one hand. The other hand cupped America's leg and he pressed his thumb hard in the middle of his thigh. Once that leg went limp, he did the same thing to the other leg. "I got him down, now go!" Canada ran out of the room to the nearest phone. Japan straddled him to keep his hips down from bucking and he began to stroke America's face with his free hand. "Come on, Alfred, don't die on me! Snap out of it!"
"Kiku!" America screamed, his eyes wider in fear.
Japan worried about what happened over there. Then his blood went cold when America stopped moving and screaming. He let his shaking hand let go of the restrained arms and they went limp. He leaned in closer toward his mouth...no breath. "No..." He pressed two fingers against his neck...no pulse. "HURRY MATTHEW!"
***Deliver Us***
Cliffhanger! **evil laugh** What will happen to poor Alfred? You'll find out.
I'm starting to get back into writing more about the Italy brothers. As much as Romano can have this total tsundre about him not letting Spain do anything for him except get him tomatoes, I have a feeling that he is just a scared boy like Feli but can hide it much better. So yeah, I made Romano a little OOC with the crying and admittance of cowardness. They will make an appearance in the next chapter as well, they might even be most of the chapter I'm not really sure...
It's 12:00 where I'm at, the AC has been running for hours because something is messed up and we're trying to find out what's wrong. I'm tired, hot and semi-cranky. The writing has been getting slower because of my mom needing help around the house, I'm doing research on drugs and history for this fic, and I'm preparing for school in about 2 weeks. I'm so excited. I get to see my friends again after 3 hot months
I'm tempted to discontinue this story on here because it's more popular on and I don't want to spam fanfiction with something that isn't getting read. I might give it a few chapters before making my final decision.
Translations:
Il mondo sta morendo..non c'è nulla che io possa fare per salvare più. I miei figli...sta a voi a portare la salvezza al mondo.- The world is dying...there is nothing I can do to save it anymore. My sons...it's up to you to bring salvation upon the world.
Si,-Yes
Lovino, arravare presto.-Lovino, get here soon.
Solo pregare Dio e siate guidati. Abbiamo entrambi capiranno questi messaggi un giorno. E quando quel giorno arriverà, siamo in grado di aiutare il mondo.- Just pray to God and may you be guided. We both will understand these messages some day. And when that day comes, we can help the world.
