Thanks to , Gyalx81, apurehetalian, schwalzy, and Carina Sicily for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 19

After watching Lovino disappear into his bedroom, Marcello stormed down to the lower floor. He wasn't angry very often, and he was pretty sure that he had never been angry at his father before. But what had just been said to his older brother crossed many lines. He wondered if his father even realised it.

The man had always been someone that Marcello admired, but ever since realising how much he hurt Lovino, he was starting to have his doubts. What kind of father would say something like that to his own son?

He found his father in the study, furiously writing something down.

"Papa, you need to apologise to Lovino," Marcello said.

Romulus sighed in frustration, putting down the pen and turning to his youngest son.

"He has to learn that actions have consequences," Romulus said. "The school called me about the fight he was in, and that he was sitting detention. And he got into another fight while walking home."

"How do you know?" Marcello challenged. "How do you know he wasn't mugged or something? In that case, you just yelled at him for being attacked!"

Romulus paused. It was clear that he hadn't even thought about it.

"And one more thing, padre," Marcello said, emphasising the last word, "you told him that you wished he wasn't your son. How is that supposed to help anyone? Do you want Lovino to run away from home? Is that your way of chasing him out?"

At that point, Romulus jerked in surprise, his frustration disappearing and replaced by guilt.

"I… I'll apologise to him later," he said. "After he's cooled down."

"Have you ever?" Marcello asked. "Almost every day, you say something mean to Lovino. But have you ever apologised for it? I think… I think the one that has to learn that actions have consequences is you, padre. And if the lesson has to come at the cost of losing Lovino, then I will never forgive you."

Marcello whirled around and intended to storm off, only to bump into Feliciano. The middle brother wore a look of worry and confusion.

"Cello… Are you fighting with Papa?" Feliciano asked.

"We're not fighting," Marcello said. "I'm giving padre a taste of his own medicine."

He needed to check on Lovino. He was afraid that the other was cutting himself again.

…

Lovino had only wiped away the blood with a tissue, not really planning to clean the rest of the dried blood. What did it matter, anyway? He was going to die soon.

He quickly wrote down all of the things said to him during the day, before he fetched the previous two books. He quickly wrote a note regarding the nature of the books, before placing them all together on his desk. In case anyone was curious enough to find out why he decided to end it all.

He still had the water bottle from the previous day, though it was empty. He had something else to do with it now. He grabbed it, before starting on his way to the bathroom.

He froze when he opened his bedroom door. Marcello was on the other side, hand raised to knock. Marcello's face was tense, and appeared angry. But once he saw Lovino, the anger melted away, to be replaced by the look Marcello and Feliciano wore when they wanted to cry.

Lovino hissed in pain when Marcello tackled him into a hug. There was a startled gasp from Marcello, before he pulled away.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" Marcello asked worriedly.

Lovino didn't answer, instead rubbing his ribs. He had a feeling that at least one of them was broken, but it wouldn't matter for long.

"I'm sorry," Marcello repeated, lowering his gaze. "Padre is wrong, you know. I know that you're innocent. Don't listen to anyone, Lovino."

"…I want to go to the bathroom," Lovino muttered.

Marcello's gaze drifted to his hands, and lingered on the bottle.

"Why do you have a bottle with you?" he asked.

"Because I don't have the energy to go downstairs for a glass of water," Lovino lied easily.

"I could get you a glass," Marcello offered, to which Lovino shook his head.

"I need to go to the bathroom anyway," he said.

Marcello wore a sad look, and he shifted nervously.

"…Fratello, do you think we could watch a movie together?" Marcello asked.

Lovino blinked in surprise.

"What?" he asked.

"We can do it later," Marcello continued. "Or now. Or tomorrow. Whenever it suits you. And we can watch whatever you want. We can watch in my room – or yours, if you prefer. Feli and padre can't bother us. What do you say?"

Lovino just stared at his younger brother, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Why?" he asked at last.

Marcello flinched, before averting his eyes.

"…I realised that I was a bad brother," he said. "I want to make it up to you. I want to spend time with you. You know, I don't even know what type of movies you like. I don't even know what your favourite colour is. So… what do you say?"

Lovino felt a flutter in his chest, but he had to squash it. Immediately. He couldn't be side-tracked. And he couldn't feel guilty.

"Not today," Lovino said at last. "I'm tired. I just want to sleep."

Marcello solemnly nodded his head.

"Tomorrow, then," he said. "And fratellone… I'm really sorry about everything."

Lovino closed his eyes, before gesturing for Marcello to step out of the way.

"I really need to go to the bathroom now," he said.

He didn't try to hide his limp. He knew that it would be a useless waste of effort, anyway. Marcello already knew that he was hurt.

He emptied his bladder, just in case, and after washing his hands, he filled the bottle. Once full, he reapplied the cap, before opening the medicine cabinet. His eyes easily found the aspirin, still sealed shut. The new bottle would ensure that he had enough.

He grabbed the bottle, and started to make his way back to the room. He was pleased that he didn't run into one of his brothers. He didn't want anyone to interfere.

He shut his door, taking a deep breath. He limped to the bed and froze. Sitting atop the bedside cabinet was a glass of water.

"Marcello…" he whispered. "Idiota."

His brother's kindness was painful, and far too late. He felt a bit guilty that he would be leaving him, but… Marcello had a lot of people that cared about him. There were people that would help him heal. They would tell him that it was better that Lovino was dead. He would recover.

Lovino sat down and broke the seal on the bottle. He placed the plastic on the bedside cabinet. He took out a few pills, knowing that he wouldn't be able to swallow everything at once. He popped them in his mouth, took the glass, and swallowed until everything was down. And the process continued. Until the bottle of pills was empty.

His father would be upset that he needed to buy another bottle of aspirin, but he would be distracted by the joy of Lovino's death. Then it was just the funeral to pay for, and his father would stop wasting money on him.

Lovino felt a bit sick as he lay down. He closed his eyes, trying to empty his thoughts. The faces of Feliks, Marcello and Feliciano flashed through his mind. The only people that might have cared about his death. But they would be able to move past it. They would soon forget about him.

Before he drifted away, he could feel the tears roll down his cheeks. He would soon see his mother. He would leave this hell.

…

Feliciano timidly knocked on Lovino's door. He'd found out what had happened between his father and brothers. He told his father that Marcello had been a bit harsh, but he was right: Romulus shouldn't have spoken to Lovino like that.

He had waited for a while to allow his brother to cool down, and decided that it was time to have a word with him.

"Lovino?" Feliciano called out. "Can I come in?"

There was no answer, but Feliciano didn't let that stop him. He opened the door, seeing that Lovino was asleep. That would explain the lack of response.

He felt a bit guilty for disturbing his brother's sleep, but he wanted to speak to him. He needed to make his brother understand that his father didn't mean it, and that Lovino was loved.

"Fratello?" Feliciano prompted, shaking his brother's shoulder.

Lovino remained asleep, and after a minute of trying, Feliciano gave up. His brother must have been very tired, and needed his sleep. He automatically turned in the direction of the bedside cabinet. He saw the bottle of pills, and the seal was next to it. Lovino must have taken the new bottle then. Feliciano would take it back.

The moment he took the bottle into his hands, however, he frowned. Something was wrong. The bottle was empty. Was he wrong about it being the new bottle? But, the seal was there…

Slowly, a possibility dawned on him, and he turned back to regard his brother. Now that he was looking carefully, he could see that Lovino was very pale. And his breathing was… wrong. It was too deep. Too fast.

Realisation dawned on him, and he dropped the bottle as he furiously started to shake his brother. Lovino also felt hot, but it was better than him feeling cold.

"Wake up…" Feliciano muttered. "Please, fratello."

When he realised that it was hopeless, Feliciano started to panic.

"PAPA!" he shouted. "COME HELP!"

He continued to shake his brother, hoping that he would wake up. He could hear his father's rapid footsteps ascending the stairs, as well as his younger brother's. He heard Marcello gasp at the doorway.

"What's going on?" Marcello asked.

Feliciano didn't immediately answer. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was fighting back his sobs. He heard his father stop at the door and turned towards them.

"I think Lovino swallowed the entire bottle," he said. "He won't wake up."

Marcello gasped, and Romulus strode in, his face grim. Feliciano moved aside as Romulus crouched down next to Lovino, pulling the trash can closer. Feliciano saw their father push several of his fingers down Lovino's throat. Only when it became clear that Lovino wasn't going to vomit up the pills did Romulus's face become panicked.

"We need to take him to the hospital," Romulus said as he picked Lovino up. "Feli, grab the bottle. They might need it."

Feliciano nodded, and he and Marcello rushed to help as much as they could. In less than a minute, they were all on their way to the hospital, hoping that they had enough time.

…

Romulus was sitting in the waiting room with his two younger sons. They'd already been there for three hours. How long could it take to pump someone's stomach?

Marcello sat further away, and Romulus could practically feel the anger radiating off his youngest son's body. He clearly remembered what Marcello had said earlier: that if his actions resulted in the loss of Lovino, then he would never forgive him.

Minutes after that, Feliciano had screamed, and said that Lovino had swallowed a bottle of pills.

Did Marcello know something? Or was he just more aware of the effect that Romulus's words could have on Lovino? But… It couldn't have been the reason why Lovino decided to try to commit suicide. He was stronger than that. He was always stronger than Feliciano and Marcello.

He was so much like Chiara.

Doctors came and went, but none approached them. None came to share news about his eldest son. Did something happen? Were they fighting for Lovino's life? Was it too late?

"…Vargas?"

Romulus jerked when he heard his surname, and the three looked up. A dark-haired doctor with cool blue eyes and glasses was standing in front of them. He had a very harsh expression on his face.

"Y-yes," Romulus stuttered, before he stood. "How's my son doing?"

The doctor scrutinised him for a moment before he sighed.

"Come with me to my office," he said. "There is a lot to discuss."

Romulus felt his stomach drop, but he followed after the doctor. Feliciano and Marcello followed as well, and considering the fact that the doctor made no move to stop them, they assumed that it was alright. The doctor led them to an office, and Romulus only had enough time to notice the complicated name of the doctor before following inside. Marcello closed the door behind them, and they sat down across from the doctor.

"What's happening to Lovino?" Romulus asked. "Does it really take so long to pump someone's stomach?"

"Gastric lavage doesn't usually take so long," the doctor said, "but there were other complications that arose. The amount of pills your son drank, his weight, the contents of his stomach… And that's not even taking into account the other problems with his physical state."

Romulus felt his stomach drop.

"What other problems?" he asked.

The doctor arched an eyebrow.

"You arrive with a teenager who tried to commit suicide, whose face is bruised and bloody, and you ask me what other problems?" the doctor asked sarcastically. "We needed to see what else was damaged."

Romulus grimaced. In all the excitement, he forgot about the fight that Lovino had landed himself in, and the injuries he must have sustained.

"Sorry about that," Romulus said. "I'm afraid my son is a bit of a delinquent. He's always getting into fights."

The doctor narrowed his eyes. Romulus had the feeling that he didn't believe him. Then again, Lovino did look as though he was in a bad state.

"So, you're saying that your son is prone to getting into fistfights?" the doctor asked.

Romulus nodded his head. For some reason, his mouth was going dry.

"…There are a few logical problems with that statement," the doctor said. "First of all, we did a thorough check to make sure that he's alright. We also looked at his hands. You see, the hands also sustain damage when they are used to hit another person. Bruising is very common. One can usually tell when someone often uses their fists. Your son lacks these signs."

Romulus's eyes widened.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Romulus asked.

"If your son really does have a tendency to engage in fistfights," the doctor said, "then he doesn't throw any punches. Tell me, how many fistfights have you seen where fists aren't involved?"

Romulus didn't have an answer for that.

"There's also another problem, when you think about it logically," the doctor continued. "His injuries are fairly recent, or, at least, some of them are. I'd say some of those injuries are all from today. But there are two important exceptions."

Marcello gasped, and the others turned to him. Marcello lowered his head, trying to avoid their gazes.

"Two days ago… Lovino's wrist was sprained," Marcello said weakly. "And he's been limping for a few days now. He tried to hide it, but…"

Romulus simply stared at his son. A sprained wrist? But… That would mean…

"His ankle is sprained," the doctor clarified. "And it doesn't seem as though he's been taking it easy. The damage has extended up to his knee, and I'd say that most of his lower leg would be in a lot of pain. I'm not sure when the injury took place, but I'd say that it's several days at the very least."

Romulus felt a cold weight settle in his stomach. This afternoon, Lovino walked home. He'd said a long time ago that he wouldn't drive him back after detention. It was his way of punishing him. But if Lovino chose to walk with a sprained ankle… And it also wasn't the only time that week.

Guilt held Romulus's heart in a vice-like grip. He was at least partially responsible for his son's pain.

"His wrist, on the other hand," the doctor continued, "is broken. Based on the break, I'd say that someone crushed the wrist. So, again, it wasn't from a hard punch. And those two injuries make it impossible for your son to have been in a fight today. Or, at the very least, it would have made it impossible for him to fight back. Your son wasn't in a fight, Mr Vargas. He was assaulted. And you can imagine how it would seem to us."

Romulus understood, and the cold look from the doctor made a lot of sense.

"I… I would never do that to any of my sons," Romulus said. "I…"

"Lovino's being bullied!"

Everyone turned to Marcello again, who bit his lip.

"I never noticed before, but I've been paying close attention lately," Marcello clarified. "The other day, he got detention for fighting, but he didn't do anything. He didn't even defend himself. He didn't even say anything. And… the teacher who gave the detention wouldn't listen to me. Lovino got blamed for something he didn't even do. He didn't do anything."

Romulus felt his heart break when he saw the expression on his son's face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Romulus asked.

"I did," Marcello said, fixing a glare on his father. "You said that Lovino has to learn to accept responsibility for his actions."

Romulus felt as though he was slapped. He could understand why his son was so angry with him lately.

"…You may not be abusive," the doctor said, "but I'd say you're a bit negligent. And I'm a bit surprised that it took him so long to attempt suicide. His body is covered in self-harm scars, and many of those scars appear to be a few years old. I've never seen anything like it."

"…If you thought I was abusing my son," Romulus said, realising something, "why are you telling me all this?"

The doctor's mouth twitched.

"I was wondering if you'd be curious," he said. "I already knew about a great deal of the situation. I believe you've met my son, Feliks."

I had to look up the symptoms of an aspirin overdose, so I hoped I did it justice. I also have no idea how long everything would take, so I took a few liberties.

The doctor is supposed to be 2PPoland, but when I thought of a stern doctor, I couldn't get Silvan from Love Tangle out of my mind. Which is why he ended up having glasses.

And yeah, in reality the hospital would assume that Romulus is being abusive.