NOTE: This is set in Austria's perspective. Have fun with that! Also, some of you may have realized that Germany didn't call Hungary. You know why? HIS PHONE DIED. He also didn't get around to a few other countries... BECAUSE PLOT CONVENIENCE THAT'S WHY.
As soon as he had dropped the knife, he had ran out of his house. Once out, he abandoned his ruined jacket in the bushes and fled his estate.
He had just killed Italy. A boy who was like his son. Tears began to sting his purple eyes as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.
He didn't know how far he had run. It had only been an hour since he had left his house. The mansion was now only a faraway dot on the horizon. He panted, trying to catch his breath.
Austria was now standing in the middle of a field. It wasn't very large, and it mostly just had some knee-length grass. It seemed almost abandoned. At least he wouldn't be bothered. Or caught.
Nevermind…
America suddenly came out of the woods, running toward Austria. "Yo, dude! What are you doing in this field, bro?" he asked, a big "hero" grin on his face (sorry for the weird America talk :P)
"Oh… just… resting…" he panted, trying to think of a good lie.
America smiled. "That's cool, bro! But…" he paused. "Why would you come all the way out here? And why are you out of breath?"
Austria gulped. He couldn't get out of this! Or could he…
"Hungary was chasing me with her frying pan. Again." He lied to the American.
The blonde nodded. "Completely understood, bro."
America immediately perked up again. "Dude, you want to come over to my place for a while?"
Austria nodded. It may not be hidden, but no country dared to break into America's house, so it had to be safe! He hoped…
He nodded and America smiled, dragging the pianist to his great mansion of freedom and burgers (because AMERICA JUST ROLLS LIKE THAT).
Soon, Austria found himself on America's couch, sipping some hot cocoa (since tea was unavailable) and chatting about anything other than the state of America's economy. That was a very touchy subject.
America slowly realized that something seemed off. The usually composed and stingy pianist seemed kind of nervous; his eyes darting across the room every once in a while. And his coat was missing. Why would his coat be missing? And his clothes seemed slightly ruffled… this couldn't be about Hungary chasing him. This was bigger. And then he noticed the final clue…
"Dude," America said nervously. "What's on your face?"
Austria's hand flew to his cheek. There was dried blood near his chin, which he immediately rubbed off. "It's nothing."
America shook his head. "It was definitely something. Tell me!"
Austria shook his head forcefully, unable to look the American in the eye.
The blonde grabbed Austria's shirt collar and pulled him up until they were eye level. "Tell. Me. NOW." He said through clenched teeth. Usually he didn't get that angry, but if something was up, he needed to know.
Austria seemed enraged. "You don't need to know what it was! It's none of your business!"
In one swift motion, America had thrown Austria back onto his couch and had aimed his handgun at the pianist's head.
"I think I need to know."
Austria gulped. He knew that America would make good on this threat. But could he just tell him the truth?
America's phone began to ring. Austria felt both relieved and even more nervous. What could this be about?
"Hello… Yes… What?" America seemed to gasp in confusion. "No… There's no way… Okay… Thanks England."
Austria gulped as the American lowered the phone from his ear. He heard a click from the gun in his hands.
America stared into Austria's violet eyes. The eyes of a murderer. The murderer of Italy. His friend, gone forever. He put his finger on the trigger.
Austria half expected a bullet to the brain. But no gunshot rang out. Only the swift punch connecting with his nose in a sickening crack.
Austria's hands flew to his nose as pain surged through his face. He glanced up to see America with tears in his eyes.
"Why?" the blonde choked out a sob. "Why did you kill him?"
Austria couldn't look him in the eye. "ANSWER ME!" America's voice was pleading, full of shock and distress.
"I… I can't tell you!" Austria felt himself on the verge of tears, both from physical pain and the fact that he had murdered Italy.
America's blue eyes were like ice, his expression angry. He had never gotten this mad at a country before. But this was different… a whole different situation...
"Why can't you tell me?!" he yelled at Austria.
The pianist looked down. He had never felt more afraid of America. Why did he insist on knowing? The entire situation seemed impossible. In fact, it was ridiculous. It was actually… funny.
America's eyes widened at the soft chuckle that came from Austria. This grew into a loud, insane laugh that only came from the crazed. "You… you want to know why I did it?!" Austria laughed.
The blonde's eyes were wide with fear and shock. He shook slightly. How did such a level headed country become like this?
"Italy asked for it… he handed me a knife… and he ASKED me to KILL HIM!" Austria laughed, madness in his eyes, laughing seeming to be his way of dealing with everything.
"Calm down, dude. This isn't like you… you'd never laugh at something like this…" America pleaded calmly.
Austria looked at the younger country. "Why should I calm down… it's so funny… he asked me to kill him…" the crazed country's smile remained wide as tears fell down his cheeks.
"Did he… actually ask you to kill him?" America asked skeptically. Having never dealt with anything like this before, there was no way to actually know.
"Oh, yes. Just ask England and Prussia… they were there… they saw it happen… they're in on the whole thing…" Austria seemed to have regained some of his sanity.
"No… Iggy wouldn't do that! He wouldn't let someone be killed!" America said, refusing to believe a thing that Austria said.
"If that's what you think," Austria looked into America's eyes, all insanity seemed to disappear for a moment in his violet eyes. "Then I don't think you know your father."
America's hands shook in rage.
"I'll prove you wrong!"
"Go ahead!" Austria laughed again.
America whipped out his cell phone. He went to contacts. He stared at England and his thumb hovered over the "call" button. Did he really want to know?
Swallowing his insecurities, he pressed the button before he paused again.
The phone rang.
And rang.
And rang.
And then he picked up.
"Hello, America. Is everything all right?" the British man spoke into his phone, still in the park with Prussia and Hungary.
"No, actually," America said, sounding annoyed and betrayed. "Austria told me that you and Prussia were involved in this whole thing. Is that true?"
A long pause came from the other end. Why would England wait that long to reply to him?
"It's true."
Two words. Two words and it felt like the whole world just broke again. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. There was too much…
"Why?" he choked out, starting to cry.
"I promise I'll tell you later, in person. Is that alright?" England asked, trying to be a little comforting.
"Fine. What time?" America tried to compose himself.
"Is four alright with you?" The Brit asked, trying to sound calm.
America smiled a little, despite the circumstances. "Yeah, that's good. See you then."
And he hung up.
America looked at Austria. "You are the cruelest country I have ever met."
NOTE: ok, sorry if you were expecting me to update one of my other fanfics. But this hopefully turned out well. Thanks for reading and stuff! Oh yeah, and I don't own Hetalia or anything like that And if you are angry at the way I wrote Austria in this, then go ahead and be all flame and hate. I am fine with that
Oh yeah, if you noticed a plot hole in this, let me know! Also, AUSTRIA DIDN'T HAVE BLOOD ON HIS PANTS BECAUSE HE HAS A LONG JACKET.
