A/N: This chapter is long winded, and kind of drags on, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! There's also a lot of speech wow
The next morning, Italy wiggled out of Germany's arms, dressed himself and fled the room before Germany could stir from his sleep. He hadn't managed to get back to sleep, America and Germany's conversation running through his brain on a loop. Why was Germany sorry? What does he deserve to know? Italy wondered down the empty halls, until he found the room he knew his brother was staying in.
Italy burst into the room without knocking. Romano screamed, pulling the covers over his body, and Spain's entire being.
"Get the fuck out!" Romano shouted, his cheeks crimson and breath shaky. Spain crawled out from below the covers, wiping his mouth and sending a lazy smile at Italy.
"I'm so sorry!" Italy turned on his heel, but didn't the leave the room. "I didn't know you'd be doing that!"
"Ita, it's okay," Spain replied.
"It's not fucking okay! He should knock!"
"I'm sorry!" Italy whined, keeping his back to the pair. "I didn't mean to!"
"Wait outside while we get dressed, dammit."
"Okay." Italy stepped out of the room, shutting the door lightly behind him. As soon as the wood was closed firmly, Italy chuckled. It had been a long time since he'd walked in on his brother having sex with Spain, but really, he was just glad Romano's hip still let him do such things.
A few minutes later, Romano threw the door open and dragged his little brother in, throwing him down on a ratty chair in the corner of the room. "Now, tell me, little brother, why the fuck you think it's okay to burst into my room like that?"
Italy grinned. "It's not technically your room, fratello."
"You know full well what I mean."
"You and big brother Spain seem to be getting on great."
"You can shut the fuck up, Veneziano. What happens between me and the tomato bastard is my business, and no one else's!" Romano pouted. "And dammit, stop calling him that!"
"I don't mind," Spain chimed from his place on the bed.
"Well I do! It's creepy."
"Don't like the idea of sleeping with someone you're related too, eh, fratello?" Feliciano joked, crossing his arms.
"Absolutely not. Spagna isn't our brother, stop calling him it."
"It's just a term of endearment, Lovi."
Romano narrowed his eyes at the Spaniard. "It's weird." He turned back to Italy. "Why are you here, anyway? Why aren't you with your macho potato?"
"He's lying to me about something. I overheard him and America last night, they were talking about me deserving to know something, then Luddy apologised me when he thought I was asleep. He's hiding something."
"This may seem like the obvious answer, Vene, but why don't you just talk to him? I know I should practice what I preach, but talking does help. Germany loves you, that much is obvious, if you flat out ask him what's going on, he won't be able to lie to you."
"That's grown up of you to say, Lovi," Spain said, wrapping an arm around Romano's waist. "He's also right. Feliciano, you can't come to any conclusion by ignoring the fact there's a problem. That was always mine and Roma's problem. Just talk to him."
"I know it's going to be something I don't want to hear though!"
"It usually is, but if you don't talk about it, you can't get past it."
"But-"
"No buts, Ita, it takes one little question."
"And if you don't get out of this room in the next five seconds, I'll choke you to death," Romano warned, opening the door.
"Good luck, Vene!" Spain grinned, patting Italy's shoulder. "Don't let him dodge around the question either!"
Italy thanked the two, before making his way back to the room he was sharing with his boyfriend. When he got there, Germany was sitting dressed on the bed, drawing in hand.
"Feliciano, where have you been?" He asked, not looking up.
"Have you been cheating on me?"
Germany's head shot up, eyes blown wide. "Excuse me?"
"Have you been cheating on me?" He repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.
"What makes you ask that, Feliciano?"
"Italy. Call me Italy. I'm mad at you."
"I don't understand? Of course I'm not cheating on you."
"Then what are you hiding from me?"
Germany frowned, placing the paper on the bed. "Hiding from you?"
"Yes. I heard you and America arguing last night. He said you need to tell me something. What is it? What are you not telling me?"
"You were asleep."
"I was faking it! Stop avoiding the question!"
"I don't want to talk about this now, Italy. Let's spend the day together, then I'll tell you everything. I promise."
"No! I want to know what you're hiding. We're engaged, you shouldn't be keeping secrets."
Germany stood up from the bed, and stepped towards Italy. "It's not to hurt you, Italy. The exact opposite actually, let's just spend today together."
"You said you'd tell me this morning. If you don't tell me, I'm walking out of this room without you."
"Please, Italy." Germany looked on the verge of tears, his piercing blue eyes wet with unshed moisture. "Please, just give me a few more hours of normalcy."
"What's going on Germany? What's going on with you?"
Germany dropped to his knees, head in his hands. "I'm so sorry," he choked out, droplets of water hitting the ground below him. Italy crouched down, placing his hands on Germany's shoulders, face soft now.
"Luddy? What have you done?"
"I can't tell you. I just can't do it."
"Then I'm leaving. Come and find me when you want to talk." Italy got back to his feet. "Or maybe I should just go and ask America?" Before Germany could say anything, Italy was out of the door, slamming it heavily behind him. He stormed down the hall, back to the main room.
"It didn't go well I'm assuming?" Spain asked from his place on the floor.
"He just started crying." He flopped down beside the Spaniard. "Where is everyone?"
"Roma's in the room still, his hip is hurting a lot this morning. I don't know about America, haven't seen him."
"He seemed fine when I was in your room."
"Your brother's stubborn, he doesn't know when to quit when he's ahead."
"Huh?"
"He wanted sex, Vene. I told him it wasn't possible, that his hip wasn't ready for it, yet he pushed for it. In the end, he got hurt and kicked me out of the room like it was my fault."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"So, what happened with Germany?"
"He wanted to spend the-"
"Italy," Germany interrupted, walking into the room. "Come with me. I'll tell you everything."
"Really?"
"Ja."
"I'll talk to you later, big brother Spain."
"Sure."
Feliciano followed Germany silently, his heart racing in his chest. Germany led them silently outside, biting his lip nervously. He really hadn't wanted to tell Italy so soon, but he also knew he deserved to know.
"What is it, Germany?" Italy asked cautiously when Germany stopped walking and turned to face him.
"I want to start this but saying I love you. I don't want you to forget that for a second, okay?"
"You're scaring me, Germany."
Germany swept a hand through his hair. "Promise me, Feliciano, please."
"I promise, Ludwig. I would never be able to forget that." Italy wrapped his arms around Germany, nudging his head into the crook of Germany's neck. "I love you too."
"Thank you."
"So what is?"
Ludwig took a deep breath, rubbing circles on the small of Italy's back. "I was bitten."
Italy took a step back, eyes wide. "What?"
"I was bitten in Italy."
"Very funny." Italy laughed nervously, nausea setting in his stomach. "What's really going on? You did cheat on me, didn't you? I don't care anymore, just tell me the truth."
"I'm not lying." Germany lifted his sleeve, a faint bite mark stood out against his pale skin. "I'm not going to hurt you before you think that. I guess considering we're nations, the virus takes longer to set in, but I can feel it, Feliciano. I can feel it eating away at me, I'm going to turn and there's nothing I can do about it."
"No. No. No. This can't be happening!" Italy screamed, stepping further from Germany. "It's fake! You're lying!"
"Feliciano, calm down!"
"No! You can't do this to me, Germany! You can't die," Italy sobbed out, punching at Germany's chest. "You can't leave me here alone!"
"You're not going to be alone, Feliciano. You've got Romano, and Spain. You can find other nations, you'll be okay."
"But I've just you back! Please, you can't leave me again!"
"I don't have a choice. I've asked America to kill me, Italy. Tonight."
"What?" Italy looked up at him, tears streaming down his face.
"I don't want to become one of them, I want to die myself. As Ludwig. Not as those disgusting things that caused all of this."
"No way. That's not happening."
"Italy."
"I'll do it."
"What?"
Italy wiped at the tears on Germany's cheeks. "I won't have someone else give you your final wish. As your fiancé, that's my job."
"Huh?"
"I'll kill you. If that's what you really want, I'll do it. The thought of anyone hurting you kills me, much less America doing it. Let me do this for you, Germany. Let me give you your last dying wish."
"I can't allow that."
"Why not? Have I not proved I'm capable?"
"It's not about capability. I don't want you to do it because you're Feliciano. Sweet, kind, innocent Feliciano. Killing your boyfriend? It'd haunt you, and I don't want to burden you with that."
"It's no burden. It's not like its murder either."
"Enough. America is doing it, end of story."
"No. I won't allow it."
"Italy, this isn't the time to be stubborn."
"I'm not being stubborn. How can you expect me to sit back and watch someone kill you?" Italy buried his face into Germany's chest. "This isn't fair. I've only just got you back."
"I'm sorry."
"How did it happen?"
"I was helping someone, I was too slow, Feliciano. I didn't move quick enough."
"Does it hurt?"
"It did at first, but it's been numb for the past few days."
"When did it happen?"
"A few weeks ago. America was going to kill me instantly, but I begged him to let me see you once more. He promised he'd only do it if I started acting weird."
"But you didn't? You're okay. Maybe you won't change?"
"Wishful thinking. I know it's going to happen, I can feel it in my veins, in my heart. I've got mere days, that's why it needs to happen today."
"What if I shot myself too? Then we could be together!"
"Don't even think about that. I will never forgive you if you give up. I meant what I said, you can survive this, and when you do, you can remember me properly. Don't throw in the towel for me, Feliciano."
"I don't want to be without you. Not again."
"And I don't want to leave you." Germany touched his lips to Italy's forehead. "But one of us living is better than neither. You're a soldier remember? Tougher than you look. Be strong for me, Feliciano."
"I promise to be strong for you, if you let me grant your wish of dying. I really can't stand the thought of anyone hurting you."
"Can you stand the thought of you hurting me?"
"Not really. I'll feel horrible, and I'll hate myself, but at least I'll know I've given you what you wanted. What you needed."
"Then I accept. If you think you can bring yourself to do it, do it."
"Tougher than I look, remember?"
"You sure are."
"What do you want me to do after?"
"Burn my body. Or bury me. I don't care, as long as you don't leave me to the things."
"Are you scared?"
"Not anymore. I feel almost at peace."
"But you were?"
"Ja. I was scared."
Italy traced his fingers over Germany's heart, relishing in the feel of the faint beating under his fingertips. "Why didn't you end it yourself? Or when it first happened?" Italy asked quietly, not trusting his voice to crack.
"I already told you, because I wanted to see you one last time."
"Have you thought about ending it yourself?"
"Of course I have, until I realised I'd never be able to do it. I couldn't die at my own hands anymore. I'd hold the gun to my head, but I could never pull the trigger."
"Even if you wanted to die?"
"Even then. I know it's wrong to burden someone else with the burden of killing me, but it's that or I turn into one of those things. Please understand this."
"I do, Luddy. I do understand. It's just hard for me to let go. How can I possibly keep going knowing you're not going to be there to hold me at night, or keep telling me that everything is going to be okay?"
"You know I'll be with you, right? No matter where we end up, I'll be with you."
"I know."
The two were silent for a while, holding each other close, neither moving to let go. Germany's fingers combed through Italy's hair, trying to replace the stringy feel for the one before everything started. He tried to remember Italy's hair silky and soft. Italy hummed lightly, his fingers still tracing patterns over Germany's chest, other hand clenching his clothes tightly.
"I want to wake up now, Ludwig."
"Huh?"
"I want to wake up."
"You're not asleep, Feliciano."
Italy let out a quiet sob, burying his face into Germany's neck, warm tears falling onto pale skin. "How can this not be a dream? How can this be our lives now? Countries falling at the hands of undead humans? It doesn't make sense!"
"I wish it was a dream." Germany chuckled lightly. "I wish right now I could be shaking you awake, yelling that you'd over slept."
"I did that a lot, didn't I?" Italy pulled away to finally look up at Germany. "I'm sorry I was such a nuisance to you."
Germany wiped the tears from Italy's face with his thumb, and held his face softly between his hands. "I wouldn't change you for the world. Yeah, you're loud, scared of everything, annoying at times, but," Germany paused to rest his forehead against Italy's. "But that's exactly why I fell in love with you. I love you for every part of you, the good and the bad. Don't ever apologise for being you, Feliciano."
"What's going on out here?" America yelled, stepping out to where Germany and Italy were standing. "Oh, shit. You've told him, haven't you?"
"He did." Italy turned to face him. "And you're not hurting him."
"Dude, he can't turn."
"I didn't say that. I said, you're not going to do it."
"He already told me he wouldn't be able to do it himself, we had a deal."
"I'm doing it."
America's eyes widened. "You can't be serious? You think you of all people would be able to shoot Germany dead? You're either stupider than I thought, or you're a psycho!"
"I'm neither. Germany is my fiancé. No one is going to fulfil his last wish but me."
"You're okay with this, Germany?"
"No. Not at all."
"Then why?"
"Italy insisted."
"You'll never be able to do it, Italy. You're too weak."
"America!"
"No, it's fine, Germany. He's right, maybe I am weak, but at least I can give the person I love what he wants." Italy turned to Germany. "For America wouldn't be able to do it if he were in the same position. Isn't that right, America?"
"What?"
Italy turned back to him. "If it was England who had been bitten, would you be able to be his hero?"
"Don't bring him into this. England hasn't been bitten!"
"And you would know that?"
"Italy that's enough. You're upsetting him."
"No. He didn't answer my question. If England was in Germany's position, and wanted to be killed, you wouldn't be able to do it, would you? Because you're not a hero, America."
"Italy!"
Italy stared at America, his heart beating a mile a minute, before he dropped his shoulders and sighed loudly. "I'm sorry, America. I shouldn't have said that. It was cruel."
"You're right though. If I was a hero, Germany wouldn't have been bitten."
"What did you say?"
"America, we agreed not to talk about that."
"It was my fault Germany got bitten. I was scared. They backed me into a corner, Germany came just in time. I saw the Zombie behind him, I tried to scream for him to move, but I couldn't. Nothing came out, I couldn't move. I was paralysed in fear. I wasn't the hero."
Everything was silent for a moment; the only sounds were those of rubbish being blown across the floor. It felt like an eternity of silence, before a loud slap resounded around them. America squeaked in shock, as Italy stood in front of him, chest heaving and anger evident in his eyes.
"I wish it was you," he snarled, shoving America backwards. "Why couldn't you have been bitten instead?!" Italy punched America in the gut repeatedly, screaming at him. "I hate you! This is all your fault!"
"Italy! Feliciano, stop!" Germany shouted, trying to yank the Italian from his place over America's body, but to no avail. Italy used his legs to keep himself over the body.
"What's going on out he- Veneziano?" Romano stopped in front of the scene.
"Stupid. Stupid. You're so stupid!" Italy screeched, continuing his punches. "Why can't you just die instead?!"
"Vene, stop!"
Romano joined Germany, finally managing to pull the angry Italian from America. As soon as Germany's arms wrapped around Italy's body, his tears started, fingers digging harshly into Germany's back. America stayed on the floor, body aching, whilst Romano and Spain stood off to the side, completely dumbfounded by what they'd walked out to.
"Okay, is someone going to tell me what the fuck just happened?" Romano demanded, looking between America, Germany and Italy.
"Is this something to do with what Germany was hiding, Veneziano?" Spain asked, helping America off the ground.
"I'm really sorry, Italy. If I could change things, I would. If I could go back to that moment and change how things happened, I would."
"So the bastard did cheat on him? With you?" Romano glared daggers at the America, hands clenched by his sides.
"Of course I didn't cheat on him," Germany interjected.
"Then explain to me why my brother was beating the shit out of burger bastard here."
"America got Germany bitten," Italy replied, voice muffled by Germany's chest.
"What?"
"I got Germany bitten."
"Wait, you've been bitten?" Romano exclaimed, stepping back into Spain's chest.
"I'm not going to hurt you. Any of you." Germany cleared his throat. "And America, it wasn't your fault."
"Hold on, don't fucking gloss over it as if it's no big deal! You've been bitten! Get away from my brother!"
"I've not turned, Romano. Not yet."
"I'm going to kill him," Italy mumbled, finally pulling himself from Germany. "I won't let him become something he doesn't want to."
"Ita?"
"I'm sorry, America. I shouldn't have snapped like that."
"I deserved it."
"Fuck that! Veneziano, you can't do this. You love him too much."
"Fratello, that's exactly why I need to do this. For Germany. For Luddy."
"I think he can do this, Roma."
"Thank you, Spain." Italy whirled to face Germany. "When do you want to do this? It's completely up to you."
"Tonight."
"So soon?"
"It needs to be done, Feliciano."
"But that's so soon."
"I can feel the virus setting in. I don't want to be alive when it takes over."
"Let's go down to the docks!" Italy exclaimed after a few moments of silence. He took Germany's hand, holding It tightly. "We can go swimming, and have a picnic, and play!" Italy beamed, looking between the other people with him. "All of us."
"Vene, why don't you and Germany go alone? We'll wait here for you, okay? Spend the day with him alone."
"Really, Romano? You guys don't mind?"
"No. Go on, Ita. Spend the day with Germany."
Germany and Italy took a tin of fruit and bottle of water each, before setting off towards the docks. They walked in quiet, their hands intertwined at their side and arms swinging back and forth as Italy hummed a quiet tune under his breath. Germany smiled down at him fondly, squeezing his hand lightly every few seconds.
As soon as they arrived at the docks, Italy stripped off his clothing and without a word to Germany launched himself into the water
"Come on, Luddy!" Feliciano exclaimed, clinging to the side of the dock to keep himself up. "The water feels good!"
"I don't have anything to change into."
"I didn't mean come in with clothes on, silly. Skinny dip with me."
Germany's cheeks heated up as he knelt on the wooden floor. "Feliciano!"
"I mean it! The water feels really good on my naked body, Luddy, but you know what would feel even better?"
"I don't want to know."
"You, Germany. You feel better on my naked body."
"You have no shame, do you?"
"Not at all. Now, remove those bulky clothes and come swimming with me."
Germany hesitated for a moment, his eyes following Italy through the water as Italy floated away from the dock on his back, before he too pulled his clothes off the climbed into the deep water below. He couldn't deny that the water did indeed feel good against his skin, the coldness in contrast to the warmth of the air outside.
"You're in!" Italy latched himself onto Germany, his legs wrapping around Germany's waist.
"You're very naked," Germany deadpanned, his hands resting lightly on Italy's waist, keeping them both afloat.
"You act like this is the first time you've seen me naked."
"I've seen you naked more times than I'll ever care to admit, Feliciano."
"I haven't seen you naked nearly enough, Germany," Italy said, pulling away from him. "Let's swim!"
"Wait, Feliciano!"
Germany settled on the wood, legs stretched out and forearms holding his body up, the hot sun beating down on his pale skin. Italy sat cross-legged in front of him, smiling so widely, one could almost believe the smile was real. Germany though, could see right through it.
"What will you do?" Germany asked quietly, sitting up properly to take the tin of fruit Italy held out towards him.
"What do you mean?"
"After tonight. Where will you go? What will you all do?"
"Oh." Italy's smile faded. "I don't know. America's going to find England, maybe we'll go with him. Safety in numbers and all that."
"Yeah. You'll have a good chance if you're with my brother, he'll protect you."
"I don't need protecting, Ludwig. I'll be okay. I must survive, for you. I know you'll never forgive me if I give up now."
"Don't push yourself though. Can you do me a favour if you do join up with England?"
"Of course."
"Look after my brother, Japan too. If you find Austria throughout this, him too. I don't want anyone I care about, anyone who cares about me, to lose their life." Germany's voice cracked, but no tears fell from his watery eyes.
"I will do that. I promise."
"But don't forget to look after yourself, Feliciano."
"Hey, Ludwig?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think this nightmare will end?"
"When all the things have been killed, and people stop getting bitten, yes. I do believe eventually it will end, and you'll live happily ever after."
"Happily is pushing it," Italy mumbled, prying open his can of fruit.
"You're Feliciano, you will be happy."
"You think just because I'm still me I'll just be happy once this is over? You're really stupid if you believe that, Luddy."
"You might think that now, but eventually you'll be happy again. You'll have your brother, Spain, everyone who cares about you."
"Except you. I won't have you. The most important person in my life will be gone, how can you expect me to get past that? Sure, maybe while we're still fighting for our lives I can forget, but when this all ends? You'll be the only thing I can think about. I'll never get over you."
"I'm not saying you'll get over me, I'm just saying you can be happy again."
Italy shook his head, sighing loudly. "You don't understand, Ludwig. You won't have to live without the love of your life. The one person you trust over the entire world. I do. I have to live with that, I have to continue living without you, smiling is never going to be the first thing on my mind."
"Please, just try."
"What do you think comes after the death of a nation?" Italy questioned, changing the subject.
"I'm not sure. I'd like to think the same as humans."
"What do you believe in, Ludwig?"
"I don't really know, I want to believe in Heaven and Hell, I'm just not sure I do anymore. I don't really want to believe in it."
"Why not? Heaven must be magical!"
Germany bit his lip. "I don't think I'd go to Heaven, Feliciano. I don't think any of us nations would." Germany wiped at his brow. "We've all done terrible things in our past. Brutal murder, mass murder. You name it, and most of us have done the crime. How can any of us expect to end up in Heaven? And even before this started, nations are still at each other's throats."
"I think God would be more lenient with us. It's not like those wars were our fault. We never had a choice in them, we were forced into it. Just like any other innocent soldier dragged into a war that had nothing to do with them. Do you believe they were sent to hell for killing?"
"It's not the same thing, Feliciano. Some solider were entirely innocent, forced into it. But we aren't innocent, we did things. We did terrible things; how can we ever expect forgiveness?"
"But we're good people."
"Are we?"
"Yes. We've all done bad things, but overall, we're good people. God isn't going to punish us for doing what we were told. Even the nations who hurt without being told to, are good people. We've lived for a very long time; I think we'll get a one-way ticket to Heaven just for enduring so many years of life."
"You think?"
"Yep! I think we'll all go to the place each nation believes in. The best place."
"Thank you."
"What for?"
"Reassuring me. I'm ready, Feliciano."
"Ready?"
"To die. I wasn't sure I was, but now I know. Let's get dressed and go back, I'm sure the others are wondering where we've got to."
"Can we just cuddle for a little while before we go back?"
Germany spread his arms out, Italy crawled between Germany's legs, his back pressing against Germany's firm chest. Germany's arms encased him, squeezing him tightly against his body and resting his head on Italy's.
Italy breathed out, fingers tracing patterns over the soft skin of the arms tightly around him. "I'm going to miss thing most, I think," Italy mumbled.
"What?"
"Your arms around me. Making me feel so entirely safe."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise, Luddy."
When the two nations finally joined the others, Romano was the first to greet them an almost sad smile on his face. Spain stood beside him, hand on his shoulder, while America was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's America?" Italy asked, pulling Germany towards his brother and Spain.
"Haven't seen him since we found you beating the shit out of him this morning," Romano replied.
"Oh. I wanted to apologise for that."
"Don't. Bastard deserved it."
"Do you two want dinner?" Spain questioned, smiling at Italy. "We prepared something for the two of you, it's nothing much, but it's the best meal either of you have had in a long time."
"Ve, sounds good! Aren't you two joining us?"
"No. We've already eaten. Go through to the main room, Spagna and I will bring it through in a moment."
Italy dragged Germany into the main room. He gasped when the door opened, a small table had been place in the middle of the room, a candle lit on top. Two pillows sat either side of the table. "A candle lit dinner? How long has it been since we had one of these, Luddy?" Italy scampered into the room, settling on one of the pillows.
"The night before you left my country, I believe," Germany replied, sitting on the pillow opposite Italy. "You forced me to do that stupid lady and the tramp kiss with the spaghetti." Germany smiled fondly at the Italian. "It was utterly humiliating."
"I remember that! You were so red!" Italy giggled. "We held hands on the table all evening though!"
"We did do that." Germany placed a hand on the table. "Perhaps we should do a repeat of that."
Italy happily put his hand in Germany's. "I'd be happy too."
A few moments later, Spain and Romano walk in, Spain holding two glasses of a red liquid, and Romano a small plate of spaghetti.
"Pasta!" Italy yelled when Romano set the plate down. "Where did you find pasta?!"
"We searched all day for it, you better be grateful."
"Oh I am, Romano! Thank you!"
"Ja. Thank you."
"Is this wine?" Italy asked, sniffing the red liquid.
"Sí," Spain replied. "It's not very good wine, but it's wine nonetheless."
"This is amazing, thank you so much, both of you!"
"Whatever. Come on, Spagna."
"Don't you think it's weird that we haven't seen any other people while we've been here?" Italy asked once they were alone again.
"Not really, they've probably fled, or died."
"We haven't seen any Zombies either though, and I saw a few people when I came here to meet you."
"They probably just left."
"I wonder how the rest of the world is? Can you still feel your country inside of you?"
Germany touched a hand to his heart. "No. I stopped feeling it a few days ago. I don't know if that's because Germany is gone, or just a side-effect of this damn virus though."
"At least if Germany has gone, you know Prussia wasn't there anymore."
"Yeah, that's true."
"Can you feel him?"
"What?"
"Me and Romano, we're connected, or at least we were before Italy became nothing. Are you connected to Prussia?"
"No. I couldn't feel what he felt if that's what you're asking." Germany twirled some pasta around his fork, and put it in his mouth. "Nor were our emotions connected," he said after he swallowed his mouthful. "Are you and Romano still connected?"
"I don't think so. I guess the connection severs when the country is gone."
"Will you try to build Italy back up once this is over?"
"No. I'm going to travel over the world finding survivors, and set up a place for everyone."
"How are you going to do that?"
"I'll have help from other Nations. I'm sure any surviving Nations will be happy to help we rebuild a place for everyone to live happily together."
"Happily and the human-race are three words that don't mix, Feliciano. There are always going to be people willing to ruin it for the rest."
"Don't be so cynical, Luddy. The world will be a better place when this ends. Why would anyone want to cause more pain and suffering than what's already happened? Not even the humans are that bad. When this is over, and the Zombies are gone, everyone will come together and make a nicer place to live."
"I hope you're right."
"When am I ever wrong?"
"Quite often actually."
Italy pouted, slurping some pasta into his mouth. Germany smiled at him, wiping his thumb across Italy's lip, ridding it of the splashed tomato sauce. The two ate the rest of the small meal in an almost silence, the only sound being from Italy's quiet humming.
"That was yummy!" Italy exclaimed, stretching back and rubbing his stomach. "I hadn't had pasta is too long! Did you like it, Luddy?"
"It was very nice, yes."
Italy squeezed Germany's hand over the table. "What do you want to do now?" He blew out the candle between them. "We could go for another walk, go to that park again! Or, or, we could go and cuddle in bed!"
"Feliciano, it's time."
"No. No it's not!"
"It's getting dark out, I don't want you outside after dark."
"I'm not a child! It's not time, please, just a few more minutes!"
"No, Italy. A few more minutes will turn into a few more minutes, then that will turn into a few hours, then a few days. It needs to be done."
"Please," Italy begged, squeezing his hand tighter. "Not yet."
"Come on, Feliciano, you said you'd be able to do this."
"I can! Just not yet."
"You knew this was coming."
"I know." Italy sighed. "Okay. I'm ready."
"Come on." Germany pulled Italy to his feet. "It'll be okay. I won't feel a thing."
"As long as I shoot correctly. What if I miss the part of the brain that kills you?"
"You've had a lot of practice with a gun, I trust you."
Germany and Italy walked out of the room, and towards the courtyard. Romano and Spain ran to join them.
"Thank you for the dinner, Spain, Romano." Germany smiled weakly. "It was truly very nice."
"Bastard."
"It's time," Italy said, looking down at his feet. "It's time."
"Already?"
Germany nodded. "It's getting dark, we should leave time for you to do something with my body so you're not all out during dark."
Romano breathed out heavily, clutching Spain's hand. "Vene, are you sure you can do this? Spagna will do it if you can't."
"No. I'm fine. Get me a gun."
Romano placed a handgun in Italy's outstretched hand. "You can close your eyes, Spagna will help you aim."
"I don't want too."
"Feliciano," Germany said softly, placing his hands on Italy's shoulders. "Remember, keep a steady hand."
"I am!"
"Your hands are shaking. You need to keep it steady."
Italy stilled his hands. "Ti amo, Ludwig. Ti amo tanto."
"Ich liebe dich, Feliciano Vargas. It's been a pleasure to know you." Germany voice cracked, tears spilling down his face. "I'm so glad we met."
"Even though I was really annoying?" Italy fiercely wiped tears from his cheeks. "Even though I was always getting naked, and constantly talked about pasta and climbed into your bed without permission?"
"I wouldn't change any of that for the world." Germany pressed a kiss to Italy's lips. "If I could go back in time and put up with all of that again, I would a thousand times over. You were my first real friend, my first love."
Italy wrapped his arms around Germany's neck, pressing their lips together in a wet, tear filled kiss. Germany's hands rubbed Italy's sides, comforting him as best he could before he pulled away.
"Come on, it's now or never."
Feliciano nodded. "Ti amo."
"Ich liebe dich." Germany stepped away, putting some distance between him and Italy. "Remember, keep a steady hand."
Romano placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We'll be right behind you, okay?"
"Thank you." Italy wiped the last of his tears, before lifting the gun to point it at his boyfriend. "I'm so sorry this happened to you of all people, Luddy."
"Don't worry about me." Germany nodded, readying himself. "Just pull the trigger."
Italy stood there for a moment, heart racing in his chest. His hands shook violently, tears obscuring his vision. He tried to breathe, tried to calm himself down, but it was like all air had been knocked from him. Italy breathed hard and fast, panic setting into his veins. He couldn't do it. He dropped the gun to the floor, falling to his knees seconds later. With his hands braced against the floor, loud sobs emitting from him, no one knew what to do. Spain, Romano and Germany stared at him in shook, feet glued to the ground.
"I'm sorry!" Italy cried, slamming his fist into the ground. "I can't! I can't shoot him."
Romano stepped forward, dropping down beside his brother. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Vene. I wouldn't be able to if it was Antonio," he whispered, pulling his brother into a hug. "You're not weak for this. Let Spain do it, okay? He'll get it done fast, Germany won't feel a thing."
Italy nodded, letting himself be pulled to his feet and led back to Spain without a word. Germany stood silently, hands behind his back.
"You have to do it, Antonio."
"Lovi?"
"Make sure you do it properly, I don't want him to feel anything," Romano said, cradling his brother against his chest. "He doesn't deserve to feel anything. It needs to be painless for him. He deserves that."
Spain glanced at Germany. "Of course. He's being very brave." Spain took a step forwards, and picked the gun up. "I'm sorry he couldn't do it, Germany."
Germany shook his head. "It's no wonder. I wouldn't be able to either." He turned to face Italy, who was now looking at him, amber eyes wide. "Italy?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you do me one last favour?"
Italy nodded.
"Smile."
"What?"
"Can you smile for me? I want that to be the last thing I see."
Italy forced a weak smile. "Like this?"
"Wider." Germany watched Italy's mouth curve into a large smile. "Danke."
"Are you ready?" Spain asked, pointing the gun towards Germany's head.
"I'm ready. Thank you all for this."
"Wait," Romano spoke up. "Germany?"
"Ja?"
"Thank you. For looking after my brother," he mumbled, rubbing his arm sheepishly. "I appreciate everything you've done for him."
"My pleasure."
"I'm going to shoot now."
Germany breathed out, eyes locked on Feliciano. Spain steadied his own shaking hands, lip between his teeth. Romano stood behind, arm around his brother, comfortingly rubbing his arm. Just as Spain was about to pull the trigger, Italy screamed, launching himself at the German.
"No! You can't die!" He screamed, arms wrapped tightly around him. Germany tried to push him away, hushed whispers of encouragement could be heard.
"Romano! Get him!" Spain yelled, gun still pointed at the German. Romano nodded, sprinting towards the pair, ignoring the pain shooting through his hip, he wrapped his arms tightly around Feliciano, yanking him away. Italy screamed loudly in rapid Italian, words merging together in unintelligible sentences. Germany ignored his own tears rolling down his red cheeks.
"Fucking calm down, Veneziano! And keep smiling!"
Italy kicked and pushed at his brother, trying to scramble out of his iron tight grip. "I don't want him to die!"
"I know you don't, but fucking hell it's happening. Now smile at him, and let him die with that memory. Stop being to fucking selfish."
Italy did smile. He smiled up until the moment Germany's mouthing of 'Ich liebe dich' was cut off by the bullet imbedding itself in his head. Germany fell instantly, his body causing a loud thump against the concrete floor. Italy stood there for a moment, Romano's arms still wrapped tightly around his waist. He felt his heart constricting in his chest.
"I think I'm having a heart attack," Italy cried out, hand digging deeply into the skin over his heart. "It hurts!"
Spain ran to them, gun dropped to the ground in the same fashion Italy had just minutes ago. Spain pulled the two Italy's into a tight hug, keeping the Northern Italy held steady between their bodies.
"What is this?" Italy clutched at his chest.
"What do you want to do with his body?" Spain asked quietly, thumb wiping away tears from Romano's face. "It's completely up to you, Ita."
Italy didn't reply, instead he wiggled from their grip and sprinted towards the man on the floor. He fell to the floor beside him, hands grasping his clothes tightly into fistfuls. Italy dropped his head against Germany's chest, loud sobs echoing around him.
"What should we do?" Romano questioned Spain.
"Give him a moment."
"Do you think he'll be okay?"
"You know what? I don't know." Spain intertwined their fingers. "But we'll do our best to look after him, right?"
Romano smiled sadly. "Yeah. We will."
It was completely dark out when Italy stopped crying, wiped his bloodied hands on his trousers and stood up. Spain and Romano had settled themselves on the ground a few paces away, watching him through tired eyes.
"I want to burn him. I don't want anything, or anyone, to be able to get their hands on his body. For tonight, we'll keep his body here, and tomorrow we'll look for a boat or something to send him out to sea."
"Are you sure that's what you want to do, Feliciano?"
"I'm positive." He sighed. "I'm going to bed. Please don't leave him out here."
"We'll get him somewhere safe, don't worry. Romano, why don't you go with Veneziano tonight? I think he needs you more than I do."
"No." Italy interjected. "I'm fine by myself. I'm strong, remember? I can be alone."
"I really think you should have someone with you tonight, Ita."
"I really am okay. I'll see you both in the morning."
Italy turned his back on them without another word, and walked away to the room he'd shared with Germany. As soon as the door shut behind him, his tears started again. Italy fell onto the bed, and curled into himself. He could still smell Germany's unforgettable scent on the covers around him, masculine and comforting.
He was drifting off to sleep when something caught his eye on the dusty beside table. A small red box sat there, drawing him in. Italy sat up, then crawled across the bed to get a closer look. Under the box was the drawing Italy had given Germany the night before, and beside it was a note. Italy picked the note up.
Feliciano,
I got this while still in Italy. A nice jewellery store hadn't been raided so I made a pit stop on my way to see you. Consider it a late birthday present. I wanted to give it to you myself, but that's not possible. I hope you find this and remember no matter where I am, I'm with you. I'll be watching over you forever.
Ich liebe dich,
Ludwig
It placed the note back down, and picked the small velvet box up. He flipped the lid. Inside was a small plain silver ring. Italy pulled it out, admiring it, before he slipped it onto his finger. "It doesn't fit," he whispered, trying the ring on every finger, finding it too big for any of them. "I'll keep it in my bag for now. Thank you, Ludwig."
Spain set Germany's body in the small boat, pillows and blankets surrounding him. He lit a match, before throwing it into the boat and kicking it out to sea. Italy sat on the dock, his head on Romano's shoulder, silent tears running down his face. Spain sat on the other side of him, taking Veneziano's hand in his own.
"He's at peace now, Feliciano," Spain murmured.
Italy couldn't ignore the smell piercing through the wind. The acrid smell of copper, and an almost sweet smell. Italy had never burning a body, he didn't know it would smell almost like a barbeque, resulting in his stomach growling loudly. He was disgusted, horrified at the fact. He couldn't ignore the charcoal smell on top of that. Italy gagged, leaning his head over the water and emptying his stomach in the water below. Spain rubbed his back, humming quietly into his ear.
They watched the burning boat float further out to sea, smoke rising high into the sky, the acrid smell surrounding them, making their stomachs turn.
America watched from a far, he could no longer see Germany's body, or the boat, the smoke too thick in the air. He wanted to go and help comfort Italy, but he knew he wouldn't be welcomed with open arms. Italy turned to face him, sending him a small smile and waving him over, surprising America entirely. America slowly made his way to the three.
Italy stood up to meet him, hand covering his nose to block out the smell. "I don't blame you, America. I shouldn't have snapped yesterday; you didn't purposely get Germany bitten. It was an accident. A terrible, heart-breaking accident, but an accident nonetheless. No one can save everyone." Italy paused, glancing out at sea. "You should go though. England will be worried sick about you. No doubt you haven't been able to contact him through all of this."
"I'll be gone before you get back to the safe place," America replied. "I really am sorry."
"Don't be. Germany's better off now, he's safe."
"Goodbye, Italy."
"Goodbye, America."
Without another word, Italy walked away to settle back down between his brother and Spain. America stood there for a moment more before turning on his heel and walking away.
Italy looked up at the stars, the sky now clear of smoke. He'd been sitting there for hours, Spain and Romano had fallen asleep against the wood, cuddled up together. Italy leant back on his hands.
"I hope you're happy now, Germany. I hope you're up there with Grandpa Rome, looking down on me. I'll never forget you, Luddy. Ever."