Thanks to Comedy Monarchy, Miss Akiyata, Dragonfire78, Don't Insult Oliver's Cupcakes, EverythingMath, BloodLily16, francinenguni and WafflePancakes for reviewing.

This chapter, as you can guess, mostly focuses on the Italy brothers. The idea's been forming in my head for a while, and I can finally write it. There's a headcanon or two, and it helped set the mood for this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 45: Italy Snaps

When Patrick stormed into the dining room to tell them that Will was sick, they were all surprised.

"What are his symptoms?" Valeria demanded.

"He was vomiting blood," Patrick said panicked.

Valeria sighed, before she stood up, dragging Omar along behind her. The Egyptian looked like she wanted to protest, but due to being mute was unable to, although Gupta seemed to have gotten the message loud and clear.

…

Luciano was drinking wine, annoyed by the fact that she was now in a woman's body. She didn't really care about what the others were doing, as long as they didn't destroy her house. As it was, she already had to go and put an end to three fires, one because Hong Kong was fighting with Luxembourg, another because Estonia had gotten too close to the main power, and the third was because Turkey tried to cook, before she threatened him with England's cupcakes, who was busy stress baking. Oliver was in the same boat as her, so the two had a sort of unspoken agreement.

It was also Oliver that suggested that Luciano torture her counterpart.

Since going through the mirror, Luciano could see everything her counterpart did, and the more she watched Feliciano, the more she started to hate the other Italian. It would actually be fun to break the other.

…

Omar examined Will, frowning in concentration. Outside, several other Nations had gathered, wondering what was wrong.

The Egyptian gave a look towards the Columbian, who nodded in understanding.

"Wales," she said softly, and the Welshman turned bloodshot eyes towards her. "Did the others, when they were torturing you, use anything metallic that was really hot?"

He blinked for a moment, before he gestured towards the large cut on his abdomen.

"Marbles," he said.

"You're suffering from metal poisoning from Bloody Fire," she said. When he looked confused, she sighed. "It's a metal in our world. I'm not sure if it exists in yours. When it's heated, it produces dangerous toxins that spread through your body if contact is made to any part, other than skin."

"Is it lethal?" Patrick asked.

"For Nations, no. But the poisoning will make you sick to the point where you wish you were dead." She then turned her head to the Nations standing outside. "Aren't you supposed to be making sweets?"

And like that, several of the other Nations dispersed the kitchen.

"Wales would have to be treated first," Andrei said, stepping closer. "He was exposed to them the longest."

"And they're still inside," Valeria said, sighing. She then turned her attention to Will. "Sorry to say this, but we're going to have to cut you open to remove them."

Will groaned, curling up into a trembling ball.

…

Luciano almost barked an amused chuckle. Her counterpart was too lax and oblivious of the situation.

No matter.

It was time to put her plan into motion as she saw Feliciano lying down for a siesta.

…

"Are you serious?" Arthur asked.

Toris had just arrived to tell the group working on Feliks about Will's poisoning. She also told them that it was due to the same metal that Feliks had in her stomach, which only concerned the Pol.

"Calm down," Lukas ordered. "How much time had passed between when Wales was tortured and when he started showing symptoms?"

The others shrugged in acknowledgement. They had to admit, it didn't seem as though the poisonous metal was fast-acting.

"We can do this calmly," Lukas said. "There's no reason to worry. Yet."

"Did they say what the cure is?" Vlad asked.

"Um, I think Andrei said it's by eating twice the victim's weight in sweet food," Toris said.

The rest of the Nations stared at her with blank faces, before Feliks broke the silence.

"Like, I'm cool with it," she said. "This would, like, totally be great. And I'll need it. Will there be chocolate?"

"I think Belgium and Switzerland are making," Toris said, trying to recall previous conversations.

"Like, totally fabulous!"

…

Feliciano looked around. For some reason, he was in a dark place. Why was he in a dark place? This place is creepy, creepier than England and his brothers' large house. Why was it creepy?

"Ciao, Feliciano," a dark voice said.

Feliciano turned to face the speaker and screamed.

It was a scarier version of him.

…

Ludwig jumped when he heard Feliciano's scream. Gilbert, who was with him, frowned in confusion.

"Why is Italy screaming?" Gilbert asked.

"He's taking a siesta," Ludwig said.

Gilbert's eyes widened, realising the implications, and the two siblings rushed out of the room, on their way to where their Italian friend was most likely trapped with his sadistic counterpart.

…

Luciano clicked his tongue in annoyance. He knew his counterpart was a coward, but this…

"P-please don't hurt me… I'm allergic to pain… I don't want my face to be all ugly around the pretty girls… I don't want to die… I surrender… Hey, if you need a servant, I'm sure we can work something out… Germany, help me… Maybe I can paint something for you… Do you want some pasta… Big brother, help…"

…had started before he could even start his torturing, and had already consumed ten minutes of his precious time.

Although, some of the ideas sounded appealing.

It was no fun playing with someone that won't make at least an effort to fight back. Seriously, this was just pathetic.

"Oh, for the love of…" Luciano growled. "Could you SHUT THE HELL UP?!"

Feliciano's mouth clamped shut, but he was still shaking, and his tears were still falling.

"You're too pathetic for me to torture," Luciano said. "Arriverderci."

One of the things he could make out from the other's rambling gave him an idea…

…

Ludwig was trying to shake Feliciano awake, ignoring Gilbert's attempts to inform her younger brother that it was futile when the Italian's eyes actually snapped open.

That was the only warning Ludwig received before Feliciano latched her arms around the German's neck, nearly choking the poor Nation.

"Oh Germany, it was scary," Italy blubbered. "There was a scary me, and he had a knife in his hand, and he was giving me this evil look, and…"

"Alright," Ludwig said, pulling Feliciano away from his neck. "Did he hurt you?"

Feliciano sniffed before slowly shaking her head.

"Was?" Gilbert asked, stepping closer to the other two. "But… why? It doesn't make sense. Just about every one of the other Nations we met said that the other Italy is the most sadistic arschloch of them all. Heck, even Romania said that the other Italy is the worst. And I even saw it myself."

Ludwig turned to his sister, an alarmed look on his face.

"Through the mirror," Gilbert clarified. "Gilen was in the room while the other Italy was torturing Romania."

"I see," Ludwig said. "But if what you say is true, then why did the other Italy leave without hurting Feliciano?"

All Gilbert could do was shrug.

…

Luciano sighed.

Her counterpart really was pathetic. But something Feliciano said caused an idea to form. She wondered what Feliciano's reaction would be. At least she knew that her new target would be more of a challenge.

And it's not as though Flavio would mind much. He was still cowering with their fratellino.

…

Antonio rushed into the room, looking breathless.

"Is Feliciano alright?" she asked.

"Ja," Gilbert said. "For some reason, that arschloch Luciano didn't hurt her."

Antonio cocked her head in confusion.

"But… That's not normal, is it?" she asked.

"Nein," Gilbert said. "At least, I don't think so. But I think I know someone that might."

…

Omar was keeping watch over Anika out of the corner of her eye. For some reason, South Africa and Nigeria had started arguing.

Nigeria was a tall man, whose skin was extremely dark. His eyes were a dark brown, almost black, and his hair was in dreadlocks, tied in a ponytail. He wore a long red shirt, brown shorts and brown sandals. He also had some sort of tooth necklace around his throat.

Gupta had explained that there were affairs of some Nations that were too complicated to even attempt to try and figure out. This was apparently one of them.

Omar was startled when two Nations plopped down on the couch where she was sitting, surrounding her on both sides. A notebook with a pen was placed on her lap.

When she looked at the two Nations, she noticed that it was Spain and Prussia, wearing looks that she had often seen on Northern Nations. This, of course, made her both nervous, and ready to fight.

"We need to ask you a few questions, mi amiga," Antonio said.

"And you're going to write down the answers," Gilbert said.

Omar narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"See, during her siesta, our Italy met your Italy," Antonio explained.

This caused Omar's expression to change into a snarl.

"But the strangest thing is," Gilbert said, "Luciano left without hurting Feli. Now, why would that be?"

Omar's expression changed, and her eyes widened. She looked down on her lap, and grabbed the pen.

Luciano still wants to hurt Feliciano. He just decided to use a different way of achieving that goal.

"And what would that be?" Antonio asked.

He switches targets. Someone that would be "fun" to break. Someone stubborn, and someone close to Feliciano.

Upon reading this, it was Antonio's turn to gasp.

"Lovi!"

…

Lovino didn't know where he was, or how he got there. All he knew was that it was a dark mansion, and that Marcello was with him.

"What is this place?" Marcello asked.

"My home."

The two spun around to see someone that looked a lot like their brother, but there were a few differences. For one thing, the other was twirling a knife in his hand.

"Who the hell are you, you bastard?" Lovino demanded.

"I am Italy Veneziano, but you can call me Luciano," the Feliciano-look-alike said. "Lovino and Marcello, correct?"

"How do you know our names?" Lovino asked.

"I was keeping an eye on everyone through the mirror."

"You said we're in your home," Marcello said. "What did you mean?"

"Well, technically, this is a dream, and the setting is the layout of my house. Of course, I know every part of it like the back of my hand. You could easily get lost. And as for how the both of you are here, before you ask, it's because I asked Romania about this little trick. That way, I can get two birds with one stone."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Lovino snapped.

Lovino slowly moved so that he was standing protectively in front of his little brother. He wouldn't allow Luciano to harm Marcello in any way.

"I want to hear you scream," Luciano said, causing the other two Italians to grow cold at his words. "Feliciano was no fun. He started begging for mercy before I could even start my little game with him. Tell me, how much do you think this will hurt him? Knowing that he was the reason why his fratelli got hurt."

"You bastard," Lovino growled. "You would even attack a Micro Nation? Don't you know that anyone that attacks a Micro Nation is weak and pathetic?"

Luciano chuckled at that, causing both of the other Italians to take a wary step back.

"So, that's how your world discourages the attack on Micro Nations?" Luciano sneered. "In my world, Nations keep a watchful eye over any Micro Nation. Do you know why?"

"W-why?" Marcello stuttered.

"National Bond. I don't know if you experience it, but we do. If a Micro Nation is attacked, then the Nation that the Micro Nation is a part of also experiences the pain. Both Flavio and I can feel if Francesco is attacked. And I want to know if the same applies to you."

Lovino's eyes widened, and he pushed his brother completely behind him.

"You're not getting to him without going through me first," Lovino snarled.

"Oh, don't worry," Luciano said. "I intend to torture you as well. And even if you tried to run, there would be no means of escape. I control this dream."

Luciano raised his knife, a sick smile on his face.

"Run," Lovino snarled, before he pushed Marcello away.

The Micro Nation stumbled a bit, but he simply stood there.

"Go, dammit," Lovino snapped, as Luciano stepped closer. "I'll hold him off for as long as I can."

"But, fratello…" Marcello started.

Lovino threw a punch towards Luciano, who caught the other's wrist and twisted it.

"Get out of here!" Lovino shouted.

Marcello trembled, before he started running away. He was not as fast as his brothers, but he managed to escape at a speed that was still faster than an ordinary human.

"I'll get him later," Luciano said in Lovino's ear, making the older Italian shiver. "Like I said, there is no means of escape. Now, Lovino, let's get started."

…

Gilbert and Antonio burst into Lovino's room, noticing that the Italian was already distressed.

"Dios mio," Antonio whispered, just as Lovino let out a cry of pain.

"I'll go tell Luddy," Gilbert said, as she sprinted out of the room.

Antonio knelt down besides Lovino's bed, stroking her former charge's hair with a soothing hand, hoping to bring at least some comfort.

…

Marcello was running through the hallways of Luciano's mansion. It was easy to get lost, and he hoped to use it to his advantage.

He flinched when he heard Lovino's screams, but didn't stop. Lovino had ordered him to get away, and that was what he was doing.

One wouldn't think it when looking at him, but Lovino was quite protective over his little brothers. That was why Lovino was always badmouthing and trying to hurt Germany. Lovino would always talk big, and if there was someone he would perceive as a threat to either of his brothers, he would stand between whoever he viewed as a threat and whichever brother he felt was being threatened. Feliciano was a little too oblivious to notice it, but Marcello did, and was thankful. In exchange, he would often try to set his brother up for a date.

Marcello had noticed that any door or window that led to the outside was locked, but doors that led to other rooms were completely accessible to him. It concerned him how many rooms had bloodstains.

He stopped when he noticed something. It appeared to be a family portrait. He could clearly see Luciano, and he was accompanied by two others. Without meeting them, he could identify them simply by their curls.

He was thankful that Luciano was the only one that appeared to be scary.

Another scream from his brother made him jump, and spurred him on to continue running.

…

Lovino growled.

He was pinned to the ground, his arms spread out. Each wrist was pinned by one of Luciano's knives, imbedded with enough force that the other wouldn't be able to move. That, and it was pure pain whenever he moved his arms.

Luciano was carving something on Lovino's stomach, causing the occasional whimper. Luciano was also seated on Lovino's thighs, pinning his legs to the ground and preventing him from kicking out.

"I'm sorry if this turns out to be ugly," Luciano said. "Flavio was always the more artistic one."

Lovino growled again, before he gasped as Luciano kept cutting along the same cut, almost sawing the skin.

"There," Luciano said, withdrawing the knife. "All done."

Lovino glared at him with watery eyes, and the glare turned to a look of horror and disgust as he watched the other lick the knife clean of the blood.

Luciano smirked, before he pinned more knives into the cuffs of Lovino's pants, allowing him to stand up without Lovino kicking him.

"Now, I think it's time to find Marcello, si?" Luciano taunted.

Lovino's eyes widened, and he started struggling.

"No!" he shouted. "Leave 'Cello alone! Don't you dare, you bastard!"

Luciano chuckled and walked away, the shouts of the other Italian in the background.

…

Feliciano and Ludwig entered Lovino's room, worry evident in the younger Italian's eyes, but there was something else. Something that none of the other Nations in the room could place.

"F-fratello?" Feliciano muttered.

Lovino whimpered, and they were surprised when he suddenly shouted something.

"No! Leave 'Cello alone! Don't you dare, you bastard!"

Feliciano's eyes widened, and to everyone's surprise, started to harden.

"Fratellino," he whispered, before he dashed out of Lovino's room.

…

Marcello had somehow been found by Luciano, and was being dragged back to the room where Lovino was.

The older Italian paled when he saw his younger brother being dragged in by the sadistic psycho, and tried to struggle free, hissing in pain from the knives imbedded in his wrists.

"Let him go!" Lovino shouted.

"Nope," Luciano said, before he shoved Marcello to his knees.

The Micro Nation was trembling by this point, having never been in such a position before. He was terrified, and he was completely alarmed when he saw the state of his brother.

He gasped when he felt the cold steel of a blade by his throat, and trembled while trying to hold still. The knife slowly moved towards his shoulder, and he screamed when the knife was thrust into the joint.

He heard Lovino cry out as well.

"So, it works," Luciano said. "Well then, let's hope Feli can feel this too, si?"

"You bastard!" Lovino shouted.

Lovino started cursing Luciano in just about every language he knew, and Marcello could see the dark Italian's eye twitch. He handcuffed Marcello to a nearby table before he walked over to Lovino.

"You will hold your tongue," Luciano said, before he started stomping on Lovino, not caring where his foot landed.

Marcello flinched when Lovino gave a particularly shrill scream when Luciano stomped on his chest, and Marcello feared that perhaps one of Lovino's ribs was broken.

Luciano seemed satisfied, and walked closer towards Marcello.

"Let's continue, shall we?" Luciano said, making Marcello tremble more.

…

Ludwig watched as Feliciano stared at her younger brother. It was obvious that the youngest Italian was under great distress, as he was trembling and whimpering in his sleep.

When Seborga let out a scream, Italy gasped, grabbing her shoulder, as though in pain.

What concerned Germany at the moment was the fact that Italy was quiet, and that there was a dark look in her eyes.

"Feliciano?" Ludwig asked. "Are you alright?"

"He's hurting my fratelli," Feliciano whispered. "Both of them. I can't ever forgive him for that."

The voice was dark, and it caused a chill to race down Ludwig's spine.

He jumped when Feliciano punched the wall in anger, but that wasn't why he jumped.

Cracks had appeared along the wall, with the fist as the point of origin. What scared Ludwig the most was the fact that Feliciano, who he had always perceived as a weakling, had caused those cracks to appear on a stone wall.

I thought about the little headcanon regarding the Micro Nations a few months ago, and was looking for a great time to add it. That is why 2P Nations make sure that the Micro Nations remain safe at all times, and why they are quite protective over them.

South Africa used to be the richest African Nation, before Nigeria assumed that position. I think there would be some bitterness.