Thanks to Q, Yffc, MyNameIsKeithOK, K, KillerStrike, RaipleMay, MonalisaRomano17, ann25099, LassRonan0020, Carina Sicily and an anon for reviewing.

And I'm back! It felt weird, not updating for a whole month. Once again, thanks for everyone's patience and understanding.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 24

Lovino was lying in the bed, reading one of the books his father had brought for him. Since it was Italian and since he was used to reading in English, it was taking longer than usual. But that was fine. He wasn't going anywhere.

He looked up when someone knocked on the door, and he could see a blond man with glasses. The man smiled at him and entered. The doctor – Feliks's father – followed after him.

"How are you feeling, Lovino?" Fryderyk asked.

"I would appreciate not having to press a button if I wanted to go to the bathroom," Lovino said, eyes flickering to the stranger.

"Until we can be sure that you're not a danger to yourself, I'm afraid it's mandatory," Fryderyk sighed. His gaze flickered to the pizza box. "Were you at least able to eat something?"

Lovino nodded his head.

"That's good," Fryderyk said, before he turned to the new arrival. "This is Doctor Matthew Williams. He's Feliks's therapist. And he's here for a psychiatric evaluation."

Lovino froze when he heard that, and he looked between the two older males. Matthew turned to Fryderyk and nodded his head.

"Thank you," he said. "I'll take it from here."

Fryderyk nodded, before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Lovino was silent as he stared at the therapist, who gave him a warm smile.

"It's nice to finally meet you," Matthew said. "Feliks has told me so much about you."

"Then why did you even come?" Lovino asked.

Matthew sighed, before he sat down on the chair next to the bed. Lovino tensed a bit when he saw this.

"You attempted suicide," Matthew said. "And based on the self-harm scars, there's a chance that you might hurt yourself again. No one wants to see you die."

Lovino snorted at that. If that were true, then he wouldn't have heard so many people saying that he should die, or kill himself, or that he shouldn't have been born.

"You shouldn't listen to those people who say otherwise," Matthew said. "And you also shouldn't listen to the voices echoing in your head."

"…So let me guess," Lovino said, "you're trying to check if I'm crazy? And then everyone would have an excuse to lock me up somewhere."

Matthew frowned, before he removed a notebook and pen from his briefcase. Lovino watched this, but he didn't care. He knew that whatever was written couldn't be positive.

"Why don't we try a little word-association exercise?" Matthew suggested. "I say a word, and you say the first thing that comes to mind. Alright?"

Lovino shrugged. He didn't know what this would achieve, but he needed to play along. He didn't really have a choice in the matter.

"Alright then," Matthew said. "Water?"

"Cold," Lovino said.

"Cat?"

"Fluffy."

"Bicycle?"

"Hurts."

Matthew frowned.

"Why do you say a bicycle hurts?" he asked.

Lovino averted his eyes.

"Because… there was one time when those three chased me on their bikes, and one of them hit me," Lovino said. "We were both sent to the ground, and they beat me up because I hurt the jerk."

"That's horrible," Matthew said quietly. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Lovino's throat tightened, and he closed his eyes. His father had gotten a call from Gilbert's father that day. They had to pay for damaging the bicycle. And Lovino wasn't allowed to leave his room for an entire week as punishment, other than to go to the bathroom. His meals had been brought to him as well.

Matthew's eyes strayed, and they landed on the pizza box.

"Next word," he said. "Pizza."

"Happiness," Lovino said.

Several more words were thrown around, with some of the more depressing responses being asked about. Lovino answered what he could, while others were too painful for him. Eventually, though, Lovino couldn't take it anymore.

"Why don't you just tell them to get the straightjacket and ship me off somewhere?" Lovino snapped. "That's what you're testing for, isn't it?"

"Not at all," Matthew said calmly. "I'm merely trying to get a feel for your personality."

"Well, it's rotten. Nothing good about it."

"Then why would Feliks want to help you? Why would Feliks enjoy your company?"

Lovino was silent. He couldn't figure it out himself.

"You have a prickly personality," Matthew continued. "And a lot of it is due to the scars you received growing up. The emotional scars. I'm not here because you're crazy. Think of me as tissue oil: My purpose is to help the scars become fainter. I know they won't disappear completely, but they won't bother you as much anymore."

"There's no hope for me," Lovino muttered, closing his eyes. "I have no future. I can't do anything right. I can't even kill myself."

"You do have a future," Matthew insisted. "And failing at suicide isn't something to be ashamed about. Even if it is twice."

"…Feliks told you, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did."

"What if… What if I told you that it wasn't just twice? That's strong evidence that I can't do anything right, isn't it?"

Matthew frowned in concern.

"How many times?" he asked gently.

"…That depends," Lovino said. "Does standing in front of a robber's gun count as an attempted suicide?"

"If your intention had been for him to shoot you, then yes, I'd say that it counts."

"…Four," Lovino admitted. "All of them in the last two weeks."

Matthew released a heavy sigh, and Lovino heard him write something down in his notebook. Lovino pulled the pizza closer and took a slice, not wanting to deal with the therapist any longer.

"Do you always eat when you're under pressure?" Matthew asked.

"If I did, I wouldn't have these," Lovino said, raising his arm slightly to show the scars.

"…Doctor Fryderyk said that you starved yourself. Care to tell me what's on your mind?"

"…I didn't eat lunch at school," Lovino admitted. "I needed to get away from all of them."

"Your bullies."

"Not just them. Everyone hates me. And at lunch, they always used that time to make it clear. And because I went to the library, I learned not to eat at lunch."

"And what about lately? Breakfast and dinner?"

"I'm… not hungry. I'm just so tired."

"I see."

"It's not anorexia or bulimia or any of that other shit. I don't think I need to lose weight or anything. Damn Vargas metabolism makes sure that I can't be overweight."

Matthew chuckled before writing something down.

"…Let me guess, you're going to add something about my swearing," Lovino said.

"It's not necessarily a bad thing," Matthew said. "You're honest. Sometimes the honesty is blunt, or a bit crude, but it's still honesty. I'd be more worried if you didn't swear."

Lovino averted his eyes. It was the first time that an adult didn't scold him for his swearing habit, and actually said that it might have been a good thing.

"Is that one of the things that caused you grief?" Matthew asked, to which Lovino nodded his head. "I see. Do you mind if we do another exercise?"

Lovino could detect that the therapist wanted to give him his space, and he was grateful for it. He nodded his head, and Matthew took out a lot of papers that he'd seen in movies and TV shows before.

"You're joking," Lovino said simply. "You actually do this crap?"

"Yes," Matthew said simply. "People see things differently. Their minds can interpret abstract shapes into different concrete images. This is just to give me an idea of what type of person you are."

Lovino stared at the therapist flatly and sighed.

"First one's a butterfly," he said. "Why is it always a butterfly?"

Matthew shrugged, taking the next card.

"Flower," Lovino said. The next was shown. "Tomato."

There were seven cards in total, and when all seven were done, Matthew put them away again.

"Feliks tells me that you're ambidextrous," Matthew said.

"Not that it's good for anything," Lovino said.

"On the contrary, it helps me understand you a little better. Studies have been done on the matter, and one of the results showed that ambidextrous people tend to have some anger issues. It's due to the two hemispheres of the brain being equally active."

Lovino blushed a bit when he heard that, apparently, the fact that he was ambidextrous was the reason why he couldn't control his temper.

"But you haven't really gotten angry since we came here," Matthew said. "You've gotten a bit annoyed, even when I started treading on painful territory. I'm going to assume that you're too tired to really get angry."

"What's the point?" Lovino asked. "It's just going to make things worse. Like always."

"I see. Feliks told me that your previous friendships seemed to have failed. Was it your anger?"

Lovino nodded.

"Two of my bullies were once my friends," he said. "But not at the same time. The first one kept poking me and called me embarrassing nicknames like 'Tomato' and I didn't like it. He eventually told me that my brother is a lot nicer and that he shouldn't have wasted his time on someone that only cares about himself."

Matthew gave him a sad look.

"You said that he kept doing things that you didn't like," he said. "Did you tell him that you didn't like it?"

Lovino nodded his head.

"I tried being nice about it, but the more he did it, the angrier I got," he said.

"If that's the case, then it's not your fault that the friendship failed," Matthew said. "It's his. He completely disregarded your feelings, and then he blamed you for it."

Lovino was silent. He didn't know if it was the truth, or if the therapist was only saying that to make him feel better. But… It did make him feel better, hearing that something he'd blamed himself for, and what Antonio had blamed him for, all these years wasn't his fault.

"He was also my friend during the time my mom died," he said.

"Feliks told me about that," Matthew said. "When's the anniversary?"

"…Today."

Matthew looked startled, and Lovino averted his gaze.

"Lovino…" Matthew said. "Tell me… Yesterday… Were you planning it, or did it just happen?"

Lovino bit his lip.

"I wanted to do it today," he admitted. "But yesterday… It was too much. I couldn't…"

He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he turned to regard the blond sitting next to him. He tensed slightly, but for once, he didn't push the hand away.

"Sorry," he said. "I hope you don't mind. Some people respond better to physical contact than others."

Lovino shrugged.

"I guess I can't complain," he said.

"Do you mind telling me about your day yesterday?" Matthew asked.

Lovino was silent for a while, processing his thoughts. Eventually, he released a shaky breath.

"Feliks wasn't there yesterday," he said. "And they're always on me if I don't have Feliks with me. They want him to think that they're nice. The same as everyone else."

"Do you blame Feliks?" Matthew asked.

Lovino shook his head.

"It was something that couldn't be helped," he said softly. "They beat me up a bit, and then one of the teachers came and gave all of us detentions. I went up to the library – I didn't have the energy to go to class. I asked them why they wouldn't leave me alone, and they said that someone needs to knock me off my high horse. When the teacher came, they lied and said that I insulted them and everything. The teacher also told me that I have to learn that the world doesn't revolve around me. And that I have no one to blame but myself. If he came just a little earlier, then he would have seen how one of those assholes was strangling me. But no. I have no one to blame but myself. After school I sat detention, and I finished earlier than them. But with my ankle… I couldn't get far, and it hurt really bad. When they caught up to me… They beat me up again while calling me a useless, worthless piece of shit and telling me that I should do the world a favour and drop dead. They only stopped when it started raining, and I walked back in the rain."

Matthew looked startled.

"Why didn't you call your father to come pick you up?" he asked.

"Because he told me a long time ago that he wouldn't pick me up if I had detention," Lovino explained. "It was his way of punishing me."

"I see. And what happened afterwards?"

Lovino hesitated. He knew that the next part would reflect really badly on his father, but it was what came next that ultimately led to his decision to end it earlier than planned.

"My father started yelling at me for getting into fights," Lovino said. "Saying that my actions are hurting the family and all that. He also said that we should be applying for universities soon, but that no one would want someone with my record. And then… He told me that he wished I wasn't his son."

"That's horrible," Matthew whispered. "Was that what made you decide to end it earlier than planned?"

Lovino nodded his head.

"One more day like that…" Lovino said. "I couldn't handle it. It's torture. I don't want to go through that anymore."

"I understand," Matthew said. "And what about your brothers?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's your relationship with them?"

Lovino rolled his tongue around in his mouth, trying to find the correct words.

"Feliciano… lives in his own little world," he said. "One where everyone is friends with each other. He never noticed what they're doing to me, and he always told my father when I got into a 'fight'."

"So, you feel as though he betrayed you?" Matthew asked.

"…I guess," Lovino said. "We're twins. He was supposed to be there for me when no one else was. And… A lot of people only wanted to be my friend because they thought I would be the exact same as Feliciano. It's what the second asshole did. He thought I would be like my brother. But even so young, Feliciano was popular, and I was not. He thought he'd have a Feliciano-clone all to himself. He was wrong."

"I see…. It would seem that, once again, the friendship failing wasn't your fault. What about the other brother?"

"Marcello. Until a week ago, he was afraid of me. He believed those lies about me."

"What changed?"

"He walked in on me… cutting myself. He's been pestering me since then."

"He's worried about you."

"I know," Lovino whispered. "But… It's out of guilt. When he thinks that things are fine again, then everything will go back to the way it was before."

"Are you sure about that?" Matthew asked earnestly. "How do you know that things wouldn't change?"

"Because they never had. And never will."

Matthew sighed, writing something in his notebook again. Lovino closed his eyes.

"…Feliks tells me that you like reading," Matthew said. "What types of books do you enjoy?"

"Things that are far away from reality," Lovino said. "But I also read other things. I also like reading the classics."

"Ah, I see. I myself like fantasy and urban fantasy. Tell me, have you ever thought of writing a book yourself?"

Lovino snorted.

"I'm no good," he said. "I can never get a good grade for creative writing."

"You shouldn't let things like that bother you," Matthew said. "After all, they told Walt Disney that he couldn't draw."

Lovino cocked his head when he heard that.

"I even read somewhere that the best authors are the ones that failed English 101," Matthew said. "But… Well, if you base whether or not you can write on the grade you received in school, then you're never going to find out if you're good at it or not. Tell me, how many narrative essays have you written?"

"…Not much," Lovino said. "I think the last time I had a teacher that assigned something like that was in eighth grade."

Matthew clicked his tongue, and Lovino looked up to regard him.

"There's something wrong at that school," Matthew said. "Alright. I know you're in the hospital, and I know that it's a weekend, but I'm going to give you homework."

Lovino frowned when Matthew rifled through his briefcase and pulled out another notepad, along with a generic blue pen.

"I want you to write a story for me," Matthew said. "Anything you want. And it can be any length you want."

Lovino watched him place the items on the table next to the bed, and he turned to him in confusion.

"Why?" he asked.

Matthew shrugged.

"I want to check something," he said. "In the end, no matter what you write will give me a better understanding of what's going on in your mind. What type of person you are. What you're hiding. What you wish for."

Lovino simply stared at the therapist, before turning his attention back to the notepad. A story of his own…

"There's also something else I'm curious about," Matthew said. "You speak Italian, right?"

"Si," Lovino said. "Of course."

"Have you thought of learning another language?"

"And what good would that do?"

"Well, one of the advantages is that you'd be able to read books in their native language. Sometimes things get lost in translation. Puns, for example."

Lovino pursed his lips. Yes, he had read a few translations where some sentences just didn't make sense.

"…Not German, or Spanish, or French," Lovino said at last.

"What do you have against those three languages?" Matthew asked.

"Those three assholes."

Matthew nodded his head in understanding.

"Well, you could ask Feliks to teach you Polish," Matthew said. "I'm sure he'd appreciate it as well. You can even teach him Italian in exchange. Or you could ask him to teach you Esperanto."

"Esperanto?" Lovino repeated. "Isn't that a made-up language?"

"It is, yes. Or, it's a constructed language. It might help you pick up other languages. I know that a lot of people learn Esperanto as a sort of stepping stone."

Lovino was silent as he contemplated it.

"I'll think about it," he said.

"Great," Matthew said. "Now, moving on…"

I've done Duolingo's Esperanto course, and when I embark on a new project I get a bit too excited and gush about it. I had to restrain myself, and I briefly contemplated including the language in this fic, but after delaying it the desire faded. But then I learned about a certain word, and I realised that Esperanto does have a place in this story. The word in question will come up eventually. And yeah, I know a lot of people use Esperanto as a means to make future language-learning endeavours easier. Ironically, it was my previous experiences with other languages that made Esperanto easier for me. So, I'd say that Esperanto is the fifth language I can speak with some confidence. And currently I'm working on Italian.

Speaking of language, the part where the narration says 'if that were true' isn't a grammatical error. Using 'were' with a singular pronoun indicates impossibility. It's a reflection of Lovino's doubt that no one wants to see him die, due to the conditioning he'd received for years from his classmates, particularly the trio. He's also pretty open with Matthew, due to being too tired to be on his guard, and due to the fact that Matthew is probably the first adult he's met that's really willing to listen to him (asides from the librarian, but he doesn't open up to her).