AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.
...
There was no telling just how pissed Germany was. This invasion between himself, Hungary, and Spain was not going well. Liechtenstein was a small country, and yet there were tons of soldiers!
He sat in an abandoned building, some of his own talking rapidly in German among him. One of his leaders came over, sitting across from him.
"Na, dann?" The leader sighed at the question. "Wir waren nicht bereit dafür. Neben den Soldaten von Liechtenstein, hier gibt es auch Schweizer und österreichischen Soldaten, haben wir auch entdeckt einige italienische Dinge zu beachten. Norditalien, denken wir, basierend aus der blauen Uniformen."
Germany nodded, frustrated. "So what do we do now?"
The man pulled out a remote. "Press the button? We may as well blow the country sky high. It will take out a bunch of the armies, too." "Do it."
…
Germany was then deployed after several of the bombs had fallen. He wove through the destroyed city of Liechtenstein, which was in shades of red and gray.
He stepped through an arch, into what could've been a town square. The buildings had all collapsed into the area, and he was alarmed to see at least a hundred corpses. Of course, he couldn't see them fully – an arm, a leg, a head, showing from being buried under rubble. It was hazy; this must've been an area that a bomb had recently been dropped on.
But the blood was staining blue uniforms, the uniforms of North Italians. He felt a sick feeling wallow in the pit of his stomach at the thought. He had just obliterated part of the Italian army. How much pain was Veneziano in…?
That's when he heard a rough sound of a coughing fit. In the distance, a young, lithe figure was pushing itself up off the ground from where it had been covered in stone. It was a man. He leaned heavily against a ruined hunk of building, dark stains on his uniform revealing how injured he was.
He was shaking horribly, blood dripping from visible wounds that had torn through his clothing and were along his neck. Yet still, in his hand, he clutched a gun loosely.
Germany stiffened. If the man realized he was here, then he would shoot at Ludwig. What was one more death, he thought.
Feliciano's probably in enough pain as it is from so many soldiers being wiped out. If I just kill this one more, it will be practically nothing to him. I can't really make the mann out anyhow, but he's young and slight. He probably isn't a leader, so it should be nothing… and if he sees me he'll shoot. It's not like I have much choice…
Just as the smoke began to clear, he raised his gun and fired. The soldier whirled at the sound of a gunshot, his big, beautiful brown eyes filling with complete terror as the bullet embedded itself in his chest, in his heart. It was too much.
"Germa–?!"
A cold feeling overcame Germany as he watched blood spurt from his mouth in too large of a quantity, scarlet blooming along his chest as he fell back with the impact, unmoving. Suddenly it clicked.
"Fick! Oh mein Gott verdammter, Italien! Feliciano!"
He ran over, near panicked. He skidded along the ground, kneeling in front of the prone, pale body. His eyes, the eyes that showed every little emotion, were unfocused and hazy, instead of their clear, cheerful brown.
He grabbed his wrist, removing a glove, and checked for a pulse. Nothing came. It became a shock to Germany to realize he was sobbing, thick tears rolling down his cheeks like they never before had.
"Don't you dare fucking do this, Italy! Sie nicht, verdammter wagen, Feliciano!" he yelled, ripping the bullet from the other's chest. He wiped the blood from Italy's face.
"Sie haben zu atmen... atmen für mich..." he whispered, heartbroken. Suddenly, in a burst of denial and rage at himself, he started issuing CPR to Feliciano in vain attempt to reverse the irreversible.
"Bitte… Bitte, Feli…" He scooped the small Italian into his lap, holding his now cold body to him. "Es tut mir leid…" he breathed, "I am so, so sorry, Liebling… Bitte... bitte verlass mich nicht... nicht so..." He pressed his lips gently to the other's kissing him softly, dampening the Italian's face with his tears.
"You can't die… you can't…"
Germany froze suddenly. He heard two voices in the distance, one male and one female, which he recognized.
"This was one of the areas that was bombed!" "Are you sure you're alright, Lili?" "I'm sure, Bruder. Come on, I'm worried – I haven't heard from Veneziano since it started! What if he's hurt?" "He won't be… I'm sure…"
Carefully depositing the body regretfully back on the ground, Ludwig stood and ran, ran in the opposite direction. He couldn't face Switzerland and Liechtenstein. It would ruin him.
But he stopped abruptly when he came in front of another splinter-group of soldiers. These wore brown, and at their head…
"Che cazzo è successo! Il mio cazzo fratellino è morto, è stato appena ucciso!"
Italy Romano.
He froze, suddenly looking horrified at the German. "You – you fucking killed him, potato bastard!" His guns rose in both hands, looking absolutely livid. Germany ducked into another shadowy alley and ran.
But that didn't stop him from hearing the vulgar Italian's voice.
"I'm going to fucking murder you the next time I see you, dammit!"
...
AN: ;_;