Chapter 38

Italy POV

Italy felt foggy with pain. He didn't know anymore why he was walking, or who he was walking with.

Colours flashed in front of his vision, and he stumbled, nearly falling. An extra stab of pain flared as his broken leg shifted against the ground.

Italy managed one more step, then he collapsed. A gasp left his mouth and he heard distant screams as he hit the ground. Who was that screaming? he wondered faintly, detached.

Italy was cruelly brought back the present when an even worse pain cut through his haze- Moldova had just stepped on his broken arm.

Italy's by-now-hoarse voice managed another shrill cry as he clutched the damaged limb close to himself. He had run out of tears by this point, and his eyes hurt with the effort.

Moldova sighed. "Can you stop with the screams already? It's getting rather annoying to listen to."

Italy just whimpered, looking up at him fearfully.

Then a gleam came into Moldova's eyes, and he snapped his fingers, causing a shadowy gag to appear in Italy's mouth.

A choked sound escaped from between the folds of the gag as Italy exclaimed in shock.

Moldova grinned. "That's better!" he cried happily. "Now come on! Get back up, you slowpoke!"

TIME SKIP

Italy was honestly near the point of fainting, barely able to stumble on- and the gag definitely wasn't helping. It restricted his air flow, causing him even more effort to keep going.

Finally, they came to a dank, dark looking room, which Moldova paused in front of.

Italy didn't even notice at first, too dazed from pain and exhaustion, until the monster growled threateningly at him.

He blinked his red- rimmed golden eyes, looking pleadingly up at Moldova.

"Don't look so whiny all the time." he complained. "I'm just putting you in there for a while! You're a bit hard to drag around."

Italy followed as he walked in, barely able to keep himself from falling over as he used the wall for support. He was actually quite relieved when he made it inside, literally collapsing on the ground as black spots swam in front of his eyes.

Moldova conjured some shadowy bindings, attaching him to the wall tightly. He winced in pain as it yanked on his broken limbs.

Moldova considered him critically, then snapped his fingers again and the gag was removed.

Italy didn't say anything, just stared up warily at the other nation. Moldova nodded in satisfaction.

"Don't want him to suffocate…" he mused. "That would be a boring way for him to die. But we also can't have him crying out and alerting anyone else to him being here! They would take my toy away!" he pouted, then brightened as he came up with an idea.

"Let's just knock him out!" he grinned happily, like a child hearing he was going to get his favourite treat.

Italy whimpered, eyes widening in fright. "No, please!" he pleaded desperately. "I won't make any noise I promise!"

"Oh come on! It will only last a second. You don't want me to have any fun!" Moldova argued.

Italy closed his eyes as the other nation approached. Then a blinding pain tore through his broken arm as Moldova bent it. His eyes shot open to meet Moldova's back gaze, shining in cruel glee.

For a moment, a wind seemed to whisk around him as if to comfort him, ruffling his hair.

Then all he knew was blackness.

Romano POV

After a few moments, Romano managed to regain control of himself.

Face going red in embarrassment as he realized he had just been crying on Spain's shoulder, he straightened up, shoving the other nation away.

Spain grinned at him. "You look like a tomato when you blush like that!" he teased.

Romano glared at him. "I do not, tomato bastard." he mumbled. "And I'm not blushing!"

Spain just smiled, his newly silver eyes bright.

Romano was about to give him another retort when he froze.

He had thought that his death had cut off his connection with Veneziano completely… but he felt a small, insistent tugging- the thread felt far weaker than before, however. Barely noticeable, simply a shell of their former bond. But it was there.

Spain cocked his head at him. "¿Qué? ¿Qué pasa?" he asked.

Romano glared at him. "I don't speak frickin Spanish, you bastard." he grumbled.

Then he winced as the small tugging grew a little bit more determined.

"... it's Veneziano." he admitted reluctantly. He hated admitting any form of weakness, but Spain just nodded understandably and stood up, white tendrils spinning around him.

"Then let's go." he said simply. Romano blinked at him, usually grumpy face a bit confused.

"You mean it?" he asked a bit hesitantly.

Spain's face was bright with enthusiasm. "Of course!" he exclaimed. "Let's go!"

America POV

America groaned as he was stabbed through the back, then plucked up by the shadows and deposited… somewhere.

He was in too much pain to be a his most observant.. which wasn't a lot in the first place.

A voice cut through his pain, seeming British- accented. And… strangely, worried. No way was that Iggy, right?

He weakly opened his eyes and saw a panicked- looking England leaning over him, his green eyes alight.

"No way you're dying on me, you bloody git!" he shouted.

America smiled weakly at him. "You do care…" he teased.

England glared at him. "Don't talk, you wanker. I need to focus."

England held out his hands and they glowed white.

"Sana." he chanted.

His hands glowed even brighter, almost blinding, and his eyes turned bright white as well, but nothing happened.

"Sana…" he tried again, but his voice was getting weaker as he used up his magic, and still nothing.

England's gaze glowed with anger. "Sana dammit!"

America's eyes began to drift shut.

"Bye Iggy…" he murmured. The other nation gave him a panicked glare.

"No you don't!" he cried, but he couldn't help it.

He faded away….

When he next opened his eyes, he saw the silvery form of his brother leaning over him in place of England.

"Mattie…?"

AUTHORS NOTE

Rosycat here! I'm sorry for all the darkness lol. Please don't kill me. Um… Review…?