"Mon dieu, will you keep still?!"

With a sigh of frustration, China seized Japan's head and held it still so that France could focus on his needlework. Japan would have responded were it not for the fact that his face was being sewn shut.

"I cannot close this wound if you don't stop moving," France pointed out. "I know that you have problems with being touched, but at this point you do not have any choice!"

"Don't respond-aru," said China. "The movement will only hurt you more."

If he were able to speak, Japan would probably have told the two to back away and stop touching him, but as it was, he was stuck. So he resorted to shooting sour glares in their directions and hoping they wouldn't notice.

"Just so that we are perfectly clear," said France as he pushed the needle into Japan's skin as gently as possible, "you need not do anything to repay me for this, Japon. In fact, if you please, you may consider this repayment for your assistance nine months ago."

Brown eyes flew down to the Frenchman's right leg, and Japan gulped in an attempt to swallow his guilt.

"Please don't remind me of that place," China requested, shuffling away from the window and the darkness beyond it. "I am still having terrible nightmares about that place-aru. And the thought of darkness make me want to wet pants!"

"Which is why you need somebody to cuddle you, da?"

China glared at Russia accusingly, his face flushing redder than an overcooked raspberry.

"D-Don't say such things-aru!" he protested as the larger man smiled. "It is highly inappropriate! And France, you stop smiling as well or I will kick your ass to moon-aru!"

"Hey, do you arschlochs think you can keep it down?"

They fell silent, and all eyes turned to the silver-haired nation who was seated with his arm wrapped around his little brother's shoulders – said brother was slumped forward with his face buried in his hand.

"Izvinite," Russia muttered.

"Yíhàn," added China.

"Just shut up," Prussia snapped. "You okay, West?"

Germany had no response. He hadn't spoken a single word to anybody since he had assisted with the imprisoning of Italy in his bathroom. Out of all the people in the house that night, he was taking it the worst. He had refused to believe it was true until he had seen the state of Japan, and until now he had been remaining as stoic as possible. Everyone could tell it was just a mask.

"So well," he murmured incoherently. "He was doing so well..."

"Ja," said Prussia bitterly. "Just when it looked like he was going to be alright, this had to go and happen, didn't it?"

"Don't make it sound like you blame Japan!" cried China. "Italy almost killed him-aru! Who knows what might have happened if I had not found them in time? It's not like Italy is human – he could have killed him permanently-aru!"

"There," said France, and he tied off the thread and cut it. "Do not open your mouth too wide or else you might tear your face open."

"Arigato," Japan mumbled.

"How do you feel-aru?" asked China. "How is your neck? Is it still sore-aru? Do you want something for-?"

"No," said Japan in a still-slightly-croaky voice. "I am fine. Really. No cause for worry. Although I still can't believe Italy is capable of attacking so viciously. It certainly is not something that I would like to be my final sight."

"I saw his eyes," China said quietly. "Only briefly, just before I knocked him out-aru. They were… demonic. Whatever that was, it wasn't Italy-aru."

"Oui, but I wish I could believe it," France said solemnly.

"Italy is fragile person, da?" asked Russia. "It may not take much to make him snap. And then there is his past…"

"Shut up."

Once more, everyone looked at Germany.

"Just…" He was obviously trying to express his feelings without looking ridiculous. "Just shut up."

To everyone else in the room, he was making it very clear (without even trying) that he was as torn as the person he was upset about. He didn't know whether to try to forgive Italy, understanding that he was most likely influenced by something and taking into account his prior feelings for him, or furious with him for betraying them and trying to take someone's life with no motivation or reasoning. He was beginning to understand how Italy wouldn't know what to do, say or think, even though he hadn't even been involved in the fight.

"He must've been out of his mind," Prussia said reassuringly. "Can't have been something he chose to do. Right, bruder?"

"Ja, r-right," said Germany, but he didn't believe it one bit. He didn't really know what to believe.

There was a click as the door opened and America entered the room.

"Better brace yourselves," he said in a surprisingly serious tone. "He's coming down."

"What?" cried China, pulling Japan into a protective and unauthorised hug. "You released him-aru?! Are you out of mind or just stupid? What if he goes berserk and tries to kill us all-aru?!"

"Trust me," said America as he sat, cross-legged, on the floor. "That ain't gonna happen anytime soon. All that commotion you heard earlier was… well, Iggy's bringing him now, so you'll see for yourself. Be nice, okay?"

"I'll decide for myself if I'm nice or not," China said bitterly as Japan squirmed out of his grip.

They sat and waited, quickly growing impatient at the lack of missing nations.

And then they heard it.

"…no, this way… this way, come on… it's alright, don't be afraid, nobody's going to hurt you… they aren't, I promise you, you'll be fine… I know you're sorry, now come on…"

It was amazing how soft and kind England could sound when he wanted to, and it was usually only around children and some of the youngest nations that he was particularly fond of. To hear him talking like this to somebody who was probably around the same age as him was nothing short of astounding.

But it became more understandable when Italy came into earshot:

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… I'm so… I'm sorry… so sorry…"

"I understand that you're sorry and I'm sure the others will believe you. Nothing to be frightened of, I swear. Almost there, come on…"

He sounded almost like a father caring for a terrified young son. Any moment now he was probably going to start disproving the presence of monsters in the wardrobe and under the bed.

He pushed the door open and entered, revealing that he was escorting Italy via an arm around his shoulders and trying rather hard to retain his grip. The smaller man was shivering uncontrollably, even though he was now wearing a lot more clothing than he had before, and his eyes were only half open, staring blankly into space and flickering every now and then. There were no tears – he was too worn out for that, and this coupled with the bandages and obvious pain to his feet meant that he was visibly wavering and barely able to stand. He kept wiping his bandaged hands on his shirt as if expecting to remove something, even though there was nothing there. His breaths were short and shallow and came only occasionally.

He fell silent and stopped muttering once he had entered the room, perhaps sensing that there were other people there and wanting to appear stronger than he actually was or maybe just terrified, which was more likely.

Japan stood up.

"Italy-san," he said slowly, "are you alright?"

The younger man looked up at him. The movement was slow and shaky, as though it was taking every ounce of effort and energy just to lift his head. He remembered what he had done – that much was clear. His normally sparkling-with-life eyes were dull and practically lifeless. Thanks to this new addition, he generally looked like a corpse that had been reanimated, but the person who revived him had made a mistake somewhere along the line and he had come back wrong.

"I'm sorry, Japan," he whispered. "Everybody, I-I'm so sorry. I just don't know what happened or what came over me. Y-You're my friends, all m-my best friends a-and you know I'd never hurt you, n-not deliberately. I don't know what happened to me and I… I… I'm… I-I'm really scared."

"You're scared?!" China shouted angrily. "How hell did you think I felt when I saw you killing Japan-aru? I don't think you have right to say things like-"

"Dude, back off," said America, equally as angry as he pushed the eldest nation away. "Take a look at him. Go on. Does he look like he'd wanna kill anyone? Does he?"

As China looked him over, Italy fell to his knees and stared blankly at the floor.

"I'm so scared," he muttered. "I don't know what's happening to me… I feel like… like I'm… I'm going crazy… I'm losing my mind… I know it, I… I'm going insane, I'm losing it… I'm sorry, everyone… I'm so sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

If he was crying, the spectacle would probably have been a little less pitiful or maybe a little more understandable. He looked as though his mind had just… bluescreened.

Japan slowly walked up to him and he didn't move one little bit apart from muttering.

"Italy-san, I'm alright," he said. "In the long run, you did not do as much damage as it would appear, no matter what China-nii says. You don't have to worry about me. You never did in the first place and there's no need to start now."

He gently rested a hand on the top of Italy's head, still receiving no response.

"Whatever is happening to you," he said, "I'm sure that you will be fine. You will come out stronger in the end. Is that not how we operate?"

It was eerie how Italy didn't even look up at him. He didn't even acknowledge Japan's presence or the fact that he was surrounded by fellow nations. He simply knelt there, staring emptily at the floor and muttering the same few words over and over again.

"I know you would never hurt me if you were in your right mind," Japan stated. "Now could you please stop saying that? You're starting to make me more than a little nervous."

At his request, Italy fell silent, but that was all he did. His lips were still forming themselves around the words and he was still staring blankly ahead at nothing.

With a small sigh, Germany stood up and helped Italy to his feet.

"Why don't you take a shower?" he suggested. "I'm sure you will feel much better afterwards. I can make you some food for when you get out as I am certain you have not eaten today. How does that sound?"

Italy gulped and gave a small nod – so small that it was barely noticeable – and Germany led him out of the room.

Almost everyone heaved a massive sigh of relief.

"That is the single most unpleasant thing I have ever had to experience in my whole life," France stated, "and I have eaten England's pancakes when he has a hangover!"

"Good god," said China, trying to hide his horrified face behind his hand. "You really weren't kidding-aru. I mean, I-I want to be angry at him, but y-you all saw him, didn't you? I don't think I've ever seen someone so…"

"Da," said Russia. "I fear he may be turning into me."

"Nah, nobody's as messed up as you," Prussia quipped, which earned him an angry and quite frankly terrifying glare and made him hide ineffectively behind a couch cushion as the larger nation muttered something nightmarish and murderous under his breath.

"You know," said America while this was going on, "when you think about it, isn't all the stuff that's happening to Italy not that different from all the stuff that's happened to like, all of us?"

"That's as may be," said England, "but you know that Italy's probably the most sensitive out of all of us. You could tell him his hair's a mess and he'll burst into tears. It's only gotten worse since he met the Grim Reaper's son – I wouldn't be surprised if the kid's given him some kind of complex."

"You should not take any shinigami for granted," said Japan in a tone of warning. "Neither insult one at any given time. Even the younger ones could take your life in the blink of an eye and not think anything of it."

"Yeah, and how many times have you watched that toilet cleaner show in the past few months to know that?" asked America.

"I think you mean Bleach."

"Whatever."

"I'm not so certain about that," said France. "You may not have known Italy for as long as I have, so I do not blame you for not knowing this, but if he does not surrender to a person who is stronger than him, he shall instead treat them as though they were family to him. He would worship a butterfly if it would allow him to have some pasta."

He cast his eyes to the door.

"When you think about it," he said, "it's unthinkable that he would ever try to take a life. So why would he try to kill Japan?"

There was steam curling out from under the door, and Germany silently hoped that Italy wasn't trying to drown himself or scald himself to death. He'd told himself that if the water-splattering noises went on for longer than ten minutes, he would go in there and check on him, no matter what state of dress he was in. There were blades in that room.

He wondered if he would ever be able to accept what was happening. The person who held his affections, even though he had no idea that this was so, was traumatised to the point of no return – perhaps even beyond. He had no idea if he would ever see the old Italy again or if he felt the same way about Germany as Germany did about him. What made it worse was that he was literally only just beginning to get better, and he doubted that he would be able to bring Austria in for another pep talk.

He checked his watch. The ten minutes were almost up. As he was reaching for the handle, the water noises suddenly stopped.

"Italy?" he said. "Are you finished?"

He didn't receive any response, but the shower's taps had no possible way to turn off by themselves, which meant he had to assume that Italy was alright for the moment.

"I have a fresh set of clothes for you, but they belong to Prussia, so they may be a little loose on you. Is that alright?"

Still no reply.

"I am going to come in now, so please make sure that you are decent."

The lack of reply was beginning to worry him, so he opened the door and entered the room.

Italy was standing, dripping wet with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, in front of the sink where he had been restrained (there were still some splatters of dried blood on the floor beneath his feet). He was holding a pair of scissors in his trembling hands and staring at them intently.

"Italy, what do you think you are doing?" asked Germany.

His question went ignored. Somehow, even though almost his entire body was shaking, Italy opened the scissors.

"Close those scissors and put them back where you found them," Germany commanded, trying to sound calm and reasonable while at the same time being terrified out of his mind. "Whatever you are thinking of, Italy, do NOT do it! Listen to me and put those scissors down!"

Italy wasn't listening. He gulped and started to raise the blades to the left side of his head-

"STOP!"

Germany dropped the clothes he had been holding, charged forward and seized the scissors, but Italy didn't want to let go in a hurry.

"NO!" he screamed. "NO, LET IT GO! LET IT GO! LET IT GO, LET IT GO, LET IT GO! I have to cut it off! I HAVE TO! I HAVE TOOOO!"

"You are only harming yourself even more, now STOP!"

With one mammoth tug, he wrenched the scissors from Italy's fingers and threw them out through the door, then pulled the smaller man close and hugged him tightly, ignoring how he screamed loud enough to wake the dead and pounded his fists into his chest.

"I HAVE TO CUT IT OFF! I HAVE TO CUT IT OFF! LET ME GO! LET ME GO, GERMANY, LET ME GO! I HAVE TO CUT IT OFF! I HAVE TO CUT IT… I have to cut… I have to… I have… I…"

"Tell me what's wrong," said Germany. "Why do you have to cut off your curl?"

"It's him," Italy moaned, sobbing into the larger man's neck. "All I can see is him. All I can think about is him. All I can hear is him, screaming at me, swearing at me, calling me a bastard and I don't know why! I should be moving on! Austria told me I should be moving on! I have to cut it off because I have to forget him! I don't want… I don't want to… I don't want him to haunt me anymore… and I don't want him to be in my mind anymore because… because I'm starting to turn into him, aren't I? I… I tried to kill Japan… and I almost did… just like he nearly killed me… and I have no idea what happened or why I did it and I'm so scared of myself and I'm so sorry! I'm going crazy and I'm so sorry!"

"You're not going crazy," said Germany, trying to ignore how Italy's towel had fallen to his feet. "And you're not turning into your brother. I know that you would never attack Japan without some kind of outside influence. He's your friend. Tell me, would you willingly try to hurt him?"

"No!" cried the distraught Italy. "I would never hurt Japan! He's one of my best friends! What's happening to me, Germany? I feel like I'm losing control, I'm losing my mind! Please! HELP MEEE!"

"I can," said Germany softly. "Now listen: I don't want you to hold it back, Italy. I can tell that you have been supressing your feelings and that can lead to real mental damage, so I am not surprised if you feel as though you are losing your grip on reality. Don't hold it back. Let it out. Let it all out."

He didn't know how long he stood there in the centre of the room, clutching the smaller man's naked body and listening to him as he screamed his heart out into the steam filled air. He was so loud that he could probably be heard on the moon- no, on the sun, and it almost bowelled him over that there was just so much. It could have been an hour, maybe two, maybe even a whole day – all he knew was that he stood stock still, hugging the screaming Italy until he finally ran out and sobbed silently into his chest, and eventually even that came to a halt.

"Thank you, Germany," he said. "I… I feel better somehow."

"It's nothing," said Germany, and he pulled Italy away to look him in the eye, "and I'm sorry I had to put you through that. It's not your fault that you've had one hell of a day already. We can call Kid in the morning, I am sure he can tell us something that could be of use. Now come on. Give me a smile. Show me some of the old Italy that we all know and love."

Italy looked up, nervous at first, but he seemed reassured once he realised that no harm was going to come to him and his face split into one of the widest, brightest smiles he had ever accomplished in his life. It was so big that he couldn't even keep his eyes open.

"Good," said Germany. "Now… um…"

"Ve~ what's wrong, Germany?"

The larger man stepped away, blushing furiously.

"Before you do anything else," he said as he picked up the garments he had dropped, "will you please put some clothes on?"

He held them out, glaring intently in the opposite direction, and Italy took them and quickly dressed himself. When Germany looked back at him, he had to keep from visibly choking: the sight of the small, already completely adorable young man in those overlarge clothes almost gave him a heart attack.

"Hey Germany?"

"Ja?"

"I'm still thirsty. England dropped your cup and broke it before I could have a drink."

"Very well. Come with me and we shall get you a drink."

"Will you at least try to be careful? Just take a look, you're spilling it everywhere!"

"I'm sorry, Germany, but I still can't seem to stop shaking."

"Let me help you, then."

"Ve~ okay."

Holding the cup in one hand, Germany wrapped his other around Italy's shoulders and held him steady while placing the cup at his lips. He tipped it gently, trickling the water into the other's mouth, but had to force Italy's hands down when he tried to tip it up further.

"You cannot drink too quickly," he stated. "If you try, you shall only make yourself choke."

"Oh-hay!" He was unable to say 'okay' because of the cup.

He kept drinking until the cup was empty and sighed in satisfaction.

"Grazie," he sighed. "Could I please have some more?"

Germany refilled the cup at the tap and helped Italy drink it, at which point the smaller man's shaking seemed to lessen. Once it was empty, he pushed the cup away and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"It's strange," he said. "I feel as though I'm just a child. Like I just came home from school after being bullied and you're my mother or something. But why are there these dents in the table?"

"That is from my outburst at Prussia the other day," Germany informed him. "I make no secret that I allowed my emotions to take me over, and it is something that I have come to regret."

Italy gently felt the dips in the wood, a curious expression on his face. He looked thoughtful.

"What would you do if I attacked you, Germany?" he asked. "If I tried to kill you, would you fight me? Would you try to kill me too?"

His tone was making Germany unnerved, and the larger man decided it would be best to try to answer. If he didn't, Italy would probably grow suspicious of him and lose trust in him.

"You are my friend," he said, "so I would try my utmost to avoid hurting you, but otherwise I would incapacitate you by any means necessary. Is that the reply that you wanted to hear?"

Italy didn't look at him: just kept stroking the compressed and splintered woodwork.

"I guess," he said. "So… so you wouldn't kill me? Not even after all the fights we've had in the past?"

"The good vastly outweighs the bad," said Germany. "I know that our bosses may beg to differ, but as far as I am concerned, we have been friends for far longer than we have been enemies. I would render you incapable of causing harm, especially to yourself, but I would never take your life under any circumstances, not even if you tried your utmost to take mine. How about that? Is that a satisfactory answer?"

Before he could do anything else, Italy was upon him, wrapping him in a massive hug as he had too many more times to count.

"I wouldn't," he said fearfully. "I promise I wouldn't! I'd never deliberately hurt you, Germany! You're my best friend and the best friend I've ever had in my whole life and I promise that I could never bring myself to try to kill you! I'd have to be insane or something would have to be making me insane for me to do something like that! I keep telling you, I keep telling everyone, I don't understand what happened and I'm sorry, I swear it!"

"I do not know why you are so worried," said Germany as he placed an arm around Italy's shoulders. "I promise that I believe you. Calm down. Take a deep breath."

Italy sniffed hard and sighed.

"You've had a long day," Germany told him, "and you must be ridiculously tired. If every day was like this one, you most likely would go insane, but tomorrow shall be a new day. Would you like to go to bed now? It's getting rather late."

The smaller man nodded and, after a rather large yawn, allowed his companion to pick him up and carry him out of the room.

"You've been so nice to me lately, Germany," Italy commented. "Do you just like taking care of me?"

"I do admit that I can think of a great many better things to do with my time," said Germany, "but at this moment, you need every single piece of help you can get your hands on. Besides which, I know that have to do something to repay you, or at least try my best."

"Repay me? What do you mean?"

"If I had realised how serious your situation was, I would have arrived sooner and possibly even managed to save you from harm, But instead, I found myself wondering if you were overreacting and your situation was not as bad as you made it sound. I apologise for my stupidity, it will never happen again."

"No, it's okay," said Italy, cuddling him around his neck. "I'm just sorry I made you worry. I should probably have called Spain when Romano came in, and maybe if I'd stayed in the room rather than walking out, I wouldn't have gone crazy and attacked Japan. Or if I did, you guys could have stopped me. I'm really sorry about everything that's happened!"

A deafening crash of thunder and a flash of lightning split the sky outside and he almost jumped out of Germany's arms.

"If you had something to apologise for, would I be caring for you as I am now?" Germany asked. "I never thought I would say this to you, but you should stop worrying so much. It is one of those rare cases when Austria was right about something, and you need to try to move forward. Especially if you are planning on being a meister."

"Huh?" Italy almost fell out of Germany's hold again. "How did you-"

"Don't try to lie," said Germany. "I saw that look in your eyes during that battle the other night. You liked what was happening and didn't want to give it up. If anything, I would almost go as far as to say you enjoyed it, until you actually started to fight, that is."

"I know," Italy replied. "I know I was scared and I know I'm weak. I'm going to get stronger, I promise!"

"But don't force yourself," Germany said as he nudged open the door to his bedroom. "If you do, you will only hurt yourself even more than you have already. For the moment, you need to rest."

He carefully (having some trouble balancing) moved the cover aside with his foot and laid Italy down on the bed.

"Hey, Germany? Wanna know something?"

"Ja, what is it?"

Italy gave him a peaceful smile.

"I'm happy," he said. "When I'm with you, I'm happy. I'm not sure if I get it, but you… you always make me happy even when you're not really doing anything or even speaking to me. Just the fact that you're here makes me happy."

Before Germany could reply, there was a knock at the door.

"Excuse me," said Japan as he entered, "I am sorry for intruding, but I wished to see that Italy-san was alright. Everybody heard the screaming earlier and it was more than a little unnerving to hear, especially since we didn't know what-"

"It's okay, Japan," said Italy, his voice slightly strained from exhaustion. "The screaming actually made me feel better, and now I'm… I'm just tired, and I want to sleep. Don't worry about me. Don't… don't worry…"

His eyes closed and his body became limp on the bed as he drifted off to sleep, a faint smile on his adorable face.

"He can be quite the load at times," Japan commented as he pulled the covers up over Italy's slumbering body. "You may find that you could have won the War if you had not spent so long making sure that he was safe."

"I know," said Germany, "but I don't care about that anymore. All that matters to me now is that he is safe."

"Forgive me for imposing, but I was correct in my assumption in the hospital, wasn't I?" Japan asked. "That you care for Italy-san more than you do for yourself, and that have gone so far as to fall in love with him. I can easily read the mood between you two and I can tell that I am right, so there isn't that much point in trying to object."

Germany bowed his head in shame and knelt down beside the bed, gazing wistfully at Italy's sleeping form.

"What in the world is wrong with me?" he asked. "Why did I have to fall in love with such a helpless dummkopf? And how am I supposed to tell whether or not he feels the same way about me without completely humiliating myself in the process?"

"I am afraid I do not know how to answer that."

"Don't give me that kind of answer: I know for a fact that you have been particularly close to Greece for quite some time now and that you slept together not too long ago."

"Th-That was a dream!" said Japan, trying to be angry and quiet at the same time while still trying to retain his composure. "It was just a dream! And I'm so glad it was just a dream!"

"Will you be quiet?" Germany snapped. "You're going to wake him up!"

But it seemed he didn't have anything to worry about. Even with the combination of rain pouring onto the window, thunder rumbling in the clouds overhead and the two nations having their conversation, Italy was still snoozing gently in Germany's bed. His arm crept under the pillow and pulled it into a cuddle, but apart from a small sigh, that was all he did.

"I do admit," said Japan, "his mere presence is rather endearing."

"Ja," said Germany, "I know."

He gently moved the hair away from Italy's eyes and shifted the sheets up so that they were over his shoulder.

"Tell the others that they need not return to their hotel tonight," he said. "I wouldn't want them going out in this weather, or at this late hour. I have plenty of spare rooms they could use from my invading days. I do not ask for anything in return other than that they refrain from making noise."

"Hai, I can do that," said Japan with a small bow, "although I cannot guarantee they will obey your second request."

He turned around and left the two alone.

Germany shuffled closer to Italy and kissed him on the forehead.

"I love you so much," he muttered. "I just wish I could say it when you could hear it."

He turned away at that point, so he didn't notice as Italy's smile grew ever so slightly smaller.

N'awww... as you can probably tell, the last bit was written not long after the Hetalia of the Dead episodes - the ones where Germany was looking adoringly at the sleeping Italy and I damn near squeed myself to death.

Not really sure how much I can say about this chapter, other than I'm really sorry for putting Italy through so many horrible things. I don't understand it - if I like a character in anything, there's a very strong chance that I'll sit and fantasize for hours about them going through some kind of horrible hell and being changed forever. Please say I'm not the only one who does this!

BTW I drew Johann. You'll find the pic if you go to my Tumblr (URL is the same as my username) and put 'hetalia' in the search bar.

As usual, reviews are appreciated. No challenges this time.