Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the crappy poem that makes up chapter titles.


Chapter Nine

That is fine, that is fine

"Love is a disease of the heart… in the end, there is no treatment curable and it might just kill you."

- Betsy Johnson


It took another two days to beat Berlin, which was a lot faster than Italy and I would have gotten there without Switzerland's help. He knew what he was doing; where all the back alleys were, where all the 'safe' areas were, what roads were blocked, what areas were swarming with French Empire troops. Italy knew Germany, sure, but Switzerland knew Germany post-war. More than once, Italy had suggested taking on route that he remembered from the days before the war, and Switzerland would shut him down by saying that the area was a camp of the French Empire or that a building had toppled over and blocked the path.

Then we reached Berlin, and I could feel a very tired Italy behind me on the verge of collapse again. Berlin was nothing but a pile of concrete. No building seemed to be standing, and rubble was so thick that the three of us were maneuvering through spaces three feet wide, sometimes squeezing through two foot gaps, to get around. Now I could see why the French Empire hadn't found Germany yet, despite the fact that they seemed to be actively looking for him; Berlin was the perfect place to hide if you never wanted to be found. There were little nooks and crannies everywhere, and alcoves like the one Italy and I hid in when running from soldiers outside Copenhagen. It made me nervous, however; there were so many places to hide, but it all felt so claustrophobic. I felt myself looking over my shoulder constantly, worried that someone would find us in a particularly narrow place and we would be trapped. My heart beat against my chest and my hands shook. Switzerland told us to be as quiet as possible, because there were troops in the area, and I could hear footsteps every so often. A few times I swore I could hear French.

'Oh gods, please… please don't let them catch us,' I begged as my shaking worsened. Switzerland looked back and stopped when he saw me, then he led the two of us inside what was left of a building. It was dark and so demolished by this point that it was only ten feet wide, if that. Switzerland walked right up to Italy and I and said in a deadpan, "I am not going to put Deutschland in danger by taking you to him if you can't calm down." He checked over the bags and took the rifle off from around his shoulders.

"Th… they're everywhere," I said, wrapping my arms around myself. Italy wrapped his arms around me; he was better off than me, strangely enough. I didn't like the confined spaces, with soldiers so close. It reminded me of running from France after he took over my islands. Running, hiding, being found, running again. Waiting and watching with bated breath as a soldier neared by newest hiding place, wishing to all the gods of any religion I could name that they didn't find me, but they always seemed to no matter how hard I tried.

I looked up, over Italy's shoulder, to stare at Switzerland with wide eyes, "H-how…? H-how have you managed here?" I spoke in hushed tones, and flinched when I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the rubble directly above us.

"Bringing in supplies vhen I could, that's how," He muttered, flipping out his flashlight again, searching through the rubble of this tiny room. He stopped at a large cement slab, and shifted it just enough to reveal a sewer grate. Switzerland pulled it up with the least amount of noise possible and motioned for the two of us.

Italy let me go and took my hand, leading me over to Switzerland, "Ve… what's down there?"

"The sewer," Switzerland deadpanned, leaning down to shine his flashlight before tossing in his bags, than taking mine and Italy's and doing the same. He motioned for Italy to take his hands and be let down the hole, a fact that neither of us liked very much at all. He huffed in annoyance, "Look, if you vant to see Ludwig, ven do as I say."

Italy hesitated before sighing and taking Switzerland's help. He was lowered into the dark abyss, and I was alone with the older nation. He turned to me, offering his hands again, and I heard more footsteps of the soldiers above us. I didn't want to go down there. It was dark, and though the darkness was usually a comfort to me, total pitch black darkness also hid whatever horrors were hiding. How long had it been since Switzerland had returned from this supply trip? Maybe this hideout of his had been found. Maybe it was swarming with soldiers. Maybe… maybe France was there.

"It's safe," Switzerland assured me, answering the questions of my thoughts.

"H-how do you know?" I looked into the darkness and flinched. Italy looked up at me from the disgusting-smelling sewers for a moment before taking up his bags again.

Switzerland sighed, "I spoke Vith Germany last night vonce we got vithin range of my radio."

I froze and Italy gasped, "Cosa? Perché non ci rac-?"

"Ruhig sein!" Switzerland hissed. His tone shut the Italian up, and to my alarm I discovered why; the footsteps had stopped. My breath caught in my throat, and for a few terrified moments I waited for the sound of rushed feet and for the door to fly open. That never happened, and after a minute of tense silence, the footsteps started again. All three of us sighed in relief, and Switzerland glared into the darkness of the sewer, while Italy muttered an apology. He again offered me his hands, and I grudgingly took them. He helped me into the hole and Italy caught me before Switzerland let me go.

The only light was from Switzerland's flashlight, and unlike most sewers, there was no damp or water at all. Everything was dry, dark, and crusted with filth. Italy handed my bags as Switzerland jumped into the hole behind us, then pulled the cover back over it. He took point again, leading us through the dank sewer tunnel. I stuck close to Italy and Switzerland, holding the hand of the latter as the both of us jumped at every sound. Even our footsteps echoed here when they hit a patch of cracked sewer cement that wasn't as caked with grime as the rest. The air was much, much colder, and I wrapped my jacket around me even tighter with the hand not clinging to Italy. Switzerland walked just a foot or two ahead of us with a flashlight in one hand and a rifle in the other.

"H-how far is it?" I said after jumping again and the sound of footsteps above us. There were many of them now, like we were right under an open street. I realized we probably were, and my blood ran cold. What were Switzerland and Germany doing in the place crawling with so many French Empire soldiers? How had they not been found yet?

"Not much farther," Switzerland grumbled, turning yet another corner in this maze of sewers beneath the even worse maze of Berlin.

After probably a half hour of traversing the sewers, Switzerland stopped at a heavy, rusted door. He took out a small key and unlocked it before turning to us, "Stay here." I would have protested had he given me the chance, but before I could get a sound out, Switzerland was already inside. He was only gone for a second or two before opening the door the rest of the way and letting us in, closing the locking the door behind us.

The room was as dark as the sewers until Switzerland pulled some matches off a counter and lit thick candles placed around the room. There were crates stacked haphazardly around with random things scattered. The room was small claustrophobically small, but there was another door in the back that I moved to before Switzerland stopped me.

"I need to talk to Germany before you see him."

"Germany's in there?" Italy said, hesitating for a moment before launching himself at the door, "Germania! Ludwig, Ludwig, it's-"

"How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?" Switzerland hissed again before slamming his rifle down and dropping his bags. He wrenched Italy from the door just as he got it open, slipped inside, and shut the thick door before I could see much inside at all.

What I did see made my face pale.

An I.V. drip.

"Mon dieu…" A hand flew to my mouth, and I stumbled back until my back hit the rusted door. Italy tried to open the door Switzerland went through, but almost screamed from frustration when he found it locked, "Feli… Feli stop." I got it now.

Why Switzerland was so hesitant to talk about Germany.

Why Germany was stuck in Berlin, despite the infestation of the French Empire.

"Fammi entrare! Germania! Germania! Svizzera, aprire ques-!" I ran to Italy and pulled him away from the door before he could pound on it anymore. At this point, I didn't know how far we were underground or how much rubble was above us, or where French troops may be hiding. The noise Italy was making would not help keep us hidden, and if I was right… I needed to prepare Italy.

"Seyche, let me go!" Italy yelled, pulling against me. He was stronger than I, but I had to get him to stop freaking out, or he would only get worse when we saw Germany.

"Feliciano Vargas!" He froze when I used his full human name, "I need you to listen. I th-think… I think Ludwig might-"

The door opened just a crack, and Switzerland stuck his head into the room. I couldn't see passed him to confirm my suspicions, but the look on his face was grim, "Deutschland's avake. Just keep your voice down, Italien, and do not…" He looked away from us and grimaced, "Just be careful around him."

Italy grew still, and gulped noisily. I looked up at him to see his face gone completely white. He was beginning to put the pieces together… and the picture wasn't very pretty. Shaking like a leaf, Italy pulled away from me and we walked across the tiny room to the door. He and Switzerland exchanged a long look before the blonde slowly opened the door and moved out of the way.

My eyes widened, and I gasped, both hands flying to my mouth. Italy managed three of four steps into the room before his knees gave out.

The room was barely bigger than the last one, with another sewer grate in one corner. There were only a few crates in here, and what room there was was cluttered with old medical equipment probably salvaged from the remains of the nearest hospital. In a torn up old chair at one end of the room was a disheveled Austria, clad in an old, torn military uniform much like Switzerland's and wearing glasses that were broken and patched up in several places. His expression was worn and tired, and he fixed Italy with a stare akin to pity. There was an old bed in the back center of the room with an I.V. filled with clear liquid next to it and various bloodied bandages and looted medications surrounding the room around it. I could smell the pungent scent of medical-grade alcohol and the only light in the room came from a great number of candles. Most of the room was just as worn and broken as the one we left, but none of it could compare to the state of the one in bed.

To say Germany was 'alive' was being generous at best, lying as worst.

Tears stung at my eyes as I stared at my friend in shock. He was propped up by pillows against the wall and in bed, blankets and sheets pulled around him. I could see that he had done his best to hide his state before we came in, but there was no covering the mess of torn flesh that was Germany.

He was shirtless, and every inch of exposed skin was hacked up like he had been thrown in a meat grinder. What wasn't cut up was covered in bandages, and some parts of Germany had taken on the off-green tone of infection. There was a large wound on his neck that looked like it had been hastily bandaged recently, and blood was already seeping through the bandage. He looked barely lucid, eyes half-lidded and breath coming out in pained, ragged gasps. He sounded so pained that broken ribs were probably part of the long list of injuries covering his body. Germany's hair was splattered with blood, along with his bed and all of his body, and his head was bandaged to cover up a nasty wound. The bandages on his head extended down, covering his right eye as well. He looked so worn, so utterly spent, yet even in his near-death state, Germany had a smile. A small, genuinely happy smile for Italy and Italy alone. He looked like he wanted to take the trembling and tearful Italy into his arms and tell him everything would be okay. It wasn't even possible for Germany to properly hug the Italian in his state.

He was missing his entire right arm, after all.

All that was left of the limb was a tightly bandaged stump of a shoulder, and I sobbed at the sight of it and what my strong friend had become. The I.V. drip must be painkillers than, because most of the wounds were either fresh, or refusing to heal. How was Germany even alive? It didn't seem possible to me. He had so many injuries, he was so pale, and there was just so much blood.

"Mon dieu… Ludwig…" I managed to choke out as Switzerland closed the door behind us. How had this happened? Who had done this to Germany?

His gaze didn't leave Italy, probably because even moving his head would strain something, but he spoke to both of us, "… been… a-about thirt… een years, 'asn't… i… t…?"

"Ludwig…" Italy sobbed. His shoulders shook, he buried his head in his hands, and wailed. Austria, Switzerland, and I started, and I was about to tell Italy to keep his voice down when he launched himself at Germany. He got to Germany before anyone could stop him and pulled the critically injured man into a huge.

"Feliciano, stop!" Austria commanded when Germany cried out in pain.

Italy jumped away from our German friend when he yelled, eyes wide. Germany winced and fell forward, gripping his bloody stump with a pained expression. Switzerland and Austria jumped to his side wearing identical masks of worry. Austria forced Germany back and Switzerland immediately checked that the flow to the I.V. hadn't been disrupted by Italy's outburst.

Seeing that it hadn't, he rounded on Italy, "That's vhy I didn't vant to bring you!" Switzerland growled, "Deutschland is dying, and hurting him further von't fix a fucking-!"

"Basch, z-zu… stoppen," He fell silent when Germany spoke. We all looked at him as he weakly batted Austria off with his remaining arm. Germany leaned back and closed his eyes, taking a couple shallow breaths before speaking again, "Don't be… h-hard on Feli… vat's just how 'e is…"

"Schweiz, did you find any clean water?" Austria looked up at the blonde from beside Germany.

Switzerland nodded, and pulled a small canteen from one of the bags, "Not much; here." He tossed it at the other nation, who then helped Germany to take some sips through cracked, parched lips.

"Ich kann… mich tr-trinken, ich bin nicht so viel von einer un… ungültigen, Ös…terreich," Germany took the canteen. He sounded a bit clearer, a bit stronger, but I still couldn't see past the blood, wounds, and infections plaguing my friend to see any way for him to survive much longer. Austria hovered around him and Italy collapsed, crying, on the other side of Germany's bed. Germany weakly moved his remaining hand to Italy head and weaved it through his hair. I felt a tear slide down my cheek at the sight of them.

After a few moments of silence, I finally found my voice and turned to Switzerland, "Wh… wh… what? H-how?" I couldn't seem to articulate what I meant; I wanted to know how this happened. How was Germany even alive?

"I… I vas…" Germany dissolved into a fit of coughs, startling Italy enough that he jumped up and looked around helplessly. His eyes fell on Switzerland, who only shook his head. They didn't have much of anything to help the dying Germany.

"I'll explain," Austria offered, "I've been vith Ludwig longer." He called over Switzerland, and the two lowered Germany back into the bed properly, despite the man's protests. He was bigger than both of them, and previously stronger, but in his current state, even I was stronger than Germany.

When Germany was settled, Austria moved his chair closer to the bed for Italy, who refused to move and had taken Germany's hand in his own. Once that was done, he spoke, "The war started fifteen years ago. Germany and I sided vith the Alliance immediately and Switzerland stayed neutral, as usual." Austria moved around the bed to grab a small bowl of slightly bloodied water and a cloth, handing them to Italy so he could dab Germany's feverish head with it, "Germany vas fine until the nukes destroyed everything. He… was hit harder than most, and lost his arm in the Battle of Dresden. After the nukes, Germany's wounds stopped healing naturally altogether. I don't… I don't think he has too much longer; we can't risk moving him to get to the Alliance, especially vith all the French troops around. If we had the supplies, then he could be stabilized until the war is over and Germany restored, but…" Austria grimaced and looked away from us, "I've been vith him since the beginning of the war…"

"Austria…" Germany slowly tore his gaze from Italy to look at the other man, his gaze soft. Austria looked down at him with a pained expression before turning away, busying himself with replacing the I.V. drip.

The silence was uncomfortable until Switzerland spoke up, "I've been vith them for five years. After the bombs destroyed mine and Lili's land and France invaded, we ran. For five years we managed to keep out of the French Empire, trying to find other straggling nations and get them to the Alliance before France could get them… then, five years ago, we were caught." The memory seemed to pain him, and I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. It didn't help any, "… Liechtenstein and I were cornered off some cliffs in Italy. She… she pushed me off the cliff when Spain found us and vas caught by the French Empire. I don't know what France has done vith her. Vhere she is, vhat she's doing, if she's even alive." Switzerland's hands clenched into fists, and his expression contorted into a mix of rage and sadness, "I tried to find out vhere he vas keeping her, and stumbled upon Austria here. Since then… I've been helping him care for Germany, as vell as searching for Lili."

"Switzerland… Austria…" I looked between the two once-strong nations before my gaze flickered down to Germany and Italy. They looked like they were in their own world; Germany focused on Italy with a hand on his cheek and Italy holding the man's hand there, wearing the saddest expression I had ever seen.

There was silence again as Austria and Italy set about changing Germany's wounds. I had to turn away then; some of them were nasty, and made my stomach churn at the sight of them. Especially the bloody stump where his arm should have been. Switzerland saw my distress, and was about to lead me out when Germany spoke up.

"Nein," He weakly batted Austria away again, but let Italy continue propping him up for bandages, "Don't l-leave yet. I still… need to tell Seychellen…"

"About vhat?" Austria said, a bit put off by being swatted away again.

I turned from the door and Switzerland to see Germany looking directly at me with as intense a stare as he could muster in his state, "I need to tell her… vhy Frankreich is after her, und vhat his ultimate goal is… even if he hasn't realized it yet."

Once again, I felt myself grow cold at the mention of France. Switzerland and Austria exchanged a look as Germany patted a small portion of the bed that he wasn't sprawled on. I went over and sat down at the edge of it, feeling scared at being so close to someone who was obviously dying. I had never seen a nation dying before, and it scared me.

He forced a smile that turned into a wince as Italy finished the bandages on his torso. Germany looked a bit better now, with the new supplies Switzerland had brought and the clean water in his parched system. Italy took his place next to Germany, and then he spoke, "I vas Insane of the same caliber of France vonce…" Germany looked down at his hand and moved his stiff fingers a bit, "During Vorld Var Vone… I vas responsible for the death of millions in za concentration… c-camps." Germany winced at the memory.

"But… but Germany, that was Hitler, not-" Italy started to protest, but was cut off by Germany

"Nein; it vas me as vell," He shook his head, "You don't remember, Feliciano, and I'm glad for zat. Za first to fall to Insanity remember za longest – und za most vividly. I remember… how it felt, towards the end." Germany couldn't look up at us. He was struggling, I could tell, and Switzerland and Austria exchanged glances again. They wanted to stop him speaking, but didn't, "I destroyed lives, homes, families, my own people… und I enjoyed every second of it."

Italy and I gasped and my hands flew to my mouth again. I had heard stories of World War II and studied it at World Academy W. I knew of the concentration camps, the gas chambers, the ghettos. But to hear straight from the horse's mouth that he had enjoyed the slaughter…

"Vait; hear me out," Germany slowly raised a hand to silence the two of us, "It vas za Insanity. It made me… change. I vanted to destroy everything, yet at za same time… consume it all. The Insane… no matter za reason zey give you, no matter vhat zey say… in the end, after so long of being Insane, every one of us vants za same thing; to consume the world and destroy it."

"But… but Francis would never-"

Germany cut me off this time, "Nein, Frankreich would not; za French Empire would." He looked up at me, "… but France hasn't even reached zat level yet. Neither did I, though I vas close…"

"But… but Kiku, and Heracles… they've got to know what France is planning!" Italy argued, not wanting to believe his older brother or friends would do something like that. I didn't either, but Germany knew more about the Insanity than anyone else.

Germany shook his head, "Zey couldn't stop him if zey tried."

"Why?" I asked.

He took in a shaky breath, "It… is l-like a ant hill, or a bee hive. France is za Queen, und all za other Insane nations und his soldiers are za drones. Za can't disobey him; it is just not possible. Zey vant vhat he vants. And right now, vhat Frankreich vants more zen anything… is you, Victoria."

My eyes widened and I felt the blood drain from my face. I felt like falling over, and Switzerland put a hand on either of my shoulders to steady me. I finally managed to choke out "Why?" again.

"Because you are za last bit of his old life," Germany wouldn't look me in the eye anymore, his gaze trained on Italy so he wouldn't have to, "You are immune to Insanity, like za other small nations, za micronations… und Switzerland, Russia, und myself. But beyond zat, you vere discovered by him, raised by him, taken away by England, and stayed by his side. You are so important to France, and your immunity makes it so you vill never end up like him. He vants you vith him to keep himself sane, to keep himself from being lost completely in Insanity."

"Then… then why don't I just go to him?" I asked as realization dawned on me; if I could help keep France sane, maybe I could help get him out of Insanity? Maybe… maybe if I tried hard enough to remind him of the world before all this…

"You can't," Germany shook his head, "… because if you go to him, and France wins the war… he is going to kill you."

"Non!" I argued, jumping off Germany's bed, "Francis would never… he would never-!"

"Again, France wouldn't… but za French Empire would," Germany murmured. He took in another shallow breath and dissolved into another painful coughing fit. Italy handed him a spare bit of bandages to use as a handkerchief, but Germany couldn't take away the cloth after coughing fast enough to not show all four of us the blood he's coughed up.

"Germany, I must insist you-" Austria started in alarm.

"Nein; I'm n-not finished yet," Germany argued in a tone that left no room for discussion. He leaned back at far as he could and took a few deep breaths (as deep as he could with broken ribs, anyway) before looking over at me, "France vill kill you because he loves you, Seychellen. If he succeeds in za war, it von't stop his Insanity. It vill only get vorse. He vill want to consume more, bring za nations under his control closer und closer… t-together." Germany's eyes locked with mine, and I felt frozen in place, "And vhen zat proved not to be close enough for him, he vill start killing them off, starting with za Insane vones. Zey von't be able to stop him. Zen, he vill come for those immune. He vill try to fight it, but in the end… his love for you vill only make him consume you last."

"I… I…" I didn't want to believe it. France, kill me? It didn't seem possible… yet I knew Germany was right. France would never kill me, but the French Empire that he had become could… and as Germany said, eventually would. It might take years, decades even, but someday, if he wasn't stopped… I would die by France's hand. I felt lightheaded, and wobbled a bit, stumbling backwards until Switzerland caught me.

France loved me, but would end up killing me against his will.

France was going to kill me.

A small part of me didn't mind so much, as long as it was France.


Author's Note: Germany is alive! Well, for now, but yay! xD;;; Don't have much to say here… except we get the rest of the information on the Insanity. What do you all think? France will eventually kill Seychelles against his will, unless he can be stopped. But can he? O:

Translation:

German:

Deutschland – Germany

Ruhig sein! – Be quiet!

Italien – Italy

Basch, zu stoppen. – Basch, stop.

Schweiz – Switzerland

Ich kann mich trinken, ich bin nicht so viel von einer ungültigen, Österreich. - I can drink myself; I'm not that much of an invalid, Austria.

Nein – no

Seychellen – Seychelles

Frankreich - France

Italian:

Cosa? Perché non ci rac-?– What? Why didn't you te-?

Fammi entrare! Germania! Germania! Svizzera, aprire ques-! – Let me in! Germany! Germany! Switzerland, open this-

French:

Mon dieu… - My god…

Seychellois Kreole:

Non! – No!