(A/N): Thank you so much for the favorites, follows, and reviews! Here's the second chapter! WARNING: This chapter has some foul-mouth language it in

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya

Pasta is My Cure!

Chapter Two

"I vould like to buy some pasta." Germany said to the person working at the food market. The store was a few blocks away from Italy's house, so he walked from there to the store. "The finest one you got."

The employee nodded, and showed Germany the way of the pasta section. Once the employee showed him where the aisle of where the pasta was, Germany's eyes widened.

The aisle that the employee showed Germany had stacks of pasta everywhere, colors of green, red, white, or together! The German felt his left eye twitch, and stared at the aisle. Now vhat type of pasta does he like? Germany asked to himself, holding two brands of boxes.

"Mein gott... Isn't it all zhe same?" Germany asked to himself, looking confused. Germany looked at all of the pasta, from top to bottom, and took a deep breath. The price is really high zhough... Germany thought, looking at the price.

After a few forty minutes of shopping, Germany regretted to walk from Italy's house to the store. Why? Because he had to carry more than twenty bags of different types of pasta in both hands. Vas it really necessary to buy ALL zhe pasta? Germany thought to himself, feeling a bit embarrassed as a few people looked at him weirdly or chuckle.

One he was at the house again, Germany placed all the bags into the kitchen, and looked through all of them. "Hm... Now vhich vould Italy like to eat?" Germany asked, holding the favorite food of the Italian.

"I need help..." Germany said, looking down and getting out his phone.

Later

"What do you want, potato bastard?" Romano asked, his arms crossed and glaring at the German. "I hope this is important." Germany nodded, and let the Italian in the house.

Germany showed him the way to the kitchen, and Romano's eyes widened by the sight of many boxes full of pasta. "Dio mio, where's the tomatoes!?" Romano asked, turning his head left and right.

"Ja... I need help..." Germany muttered, scratching the back of his head nervously and chuckling. "I vant to make some pasta for Italy..." Romano's eyes stared at Germany's eyes, and he glared.

"You want to make pasta, bastard?" Romano asked, crossing his arms. "Well, you got the pasta all right-"

"By zhe way," Germany interrupted the hot-tempered Italian, "Vhat type of pasta does he like?" Romano, being the foul-mouth he is, cursed at the German.

"Don't fucking interrupt me, you potato bastard!" Romano fumed, shouting at him. "How can my fratello stand you?" Germany sighed, and let the southern part of Italy to calm down. After a few minutes, Romano settled down, and went to the fridge.

"I'm pretty sure that my fratello has some tomatoes," Romano said, searching, "Can't make pasta without tomatoes." Germany nodded, and sat down at the dining table. After a few minutes, Romano shut the fridge door hard, and cursed under his breath.

"Vhat's vrong?" Germany asked, looking at South Italy confusedly. Romano clutched his fists, and shook his head.

"He forgot to buy tomatoes!" Romano exclaimed, almost waking up Italy, who was taking a nap after Germany had left before. "That bastard! Now I have to call Spain to get some for me!" Romano said, getting out his phone and calling Spain.

After a few seconds, a man on the other side of the phone answered. "¿Qué pasa, Romano?" Spain asked, yawning as he was waking up from his siesta. Romano, being Romano, shouted at the Spaniard.

"Get your lazy ass here!" Romano shouted, "Bring tomatoes as well!" Spain groaned, and held his now hurting ear.

"¿Porque? What's wrong?" Spain asked, getting up from his bed. Romano looked at the phone, and then at Germany.

"You called me so explain it to him, you bastard!" Romano shouted, "I don't even know what's going on!" Germany nodded, and grabbed Romano's phone.

"Hello Spain," Germany said, clearing his throat, "Ve need you here. You see, Italy has a fever and-"

"¿¡QUÉ?! Ita-chan has fever?!" Spain interrupted at the German, "I'll be right there!"

Germany nodded, and before Spain could finish the call, Romano shouted into the phone. "Don't forget the tomatoes, bastard!"

Beep!

The call ended, and they hope that Spain would come and help out with Italy. Seriously, all of this happened just because Germany couldn't make pasta for our sick Italian.

Romano looked at Germany, and stared at him. "You never said that my fratello was sick. If you told me at the phone, I would've brought some tomatoes, you potato bastard!" Germany held the bridge of his nose, and nodded as the Italian scolded at him.

In the sick Italian's room, Veneziano woke up, and rubbed his right eye. "Ve? What's with the commotion?" Italy asked, getting all the blankets off of his warm body. Italy got up, and was about to go to the door, but then layed back down to the bed. Bad idea... Italy thought, feeling the warmth in his forehead again. Very bad idea...

"I didn't vant you to vorry." Germany confessed, "It's seems though as if you don't trust me with your bruder."

"Damn right you are!" Romano's voice exclaimed. Germany tried to calm down the Italian by explaining why he called him.

"I just needed to know vhat sort of pasta he likes..."

"The hell should I know?"

"You're Italian! You're his bruder! You should know vhat he eats!"

"Fratello never tells me what sort of pasta he eats, you potato bastard!"

Germany growled, and tried to calm down himself. "I should've just asked in zhe phone..." Germany told to himself. But zhen again... I don't even know hov to make pasta... Germany sighed in defeat. "Vhatever." Germany said, shaking his head. "I'm going to check on Italy."

The German then went to Italy's room, with Romano right behind him. "I have to see my fratello myself to see how he is." Romano told Germany, "That bastard doesn't know how to help himself." Germany didn't know if he could agree or disagree, so he said nothing.

Once Germany opened the door, it showed Italy in his bed, blankets on top of him. "Ve, hey Germany!" Italy exclaimed, smiling softly. He then noticed his older brother. "Ciao, fratello!" Romano then went to Italy's side, and stared at him.

"How are you doing, fratello?"

"Ve, I'm doing fine!"

"Did the potato bastard do anything to you?"

"Vhat?" Germany asked, looking at Romano is disbelief. Italy, not understanding the question, just smiled.

"Why yes fratello!" Italy chirped, "He took care of me, that's for sure!" Romano rolled his eyes, and was going to respond to him, until somebody knocked on the door. "Ve, who's that?" Italy asked, hearing the door knock.

"That must be Spain." Germany said, "I'll go get him." Germany went outside of Italy's room, and opened the front door. It then showed the tanned Spaniard, panting and holding a basket full of tomatoes.

"Where is he?" Spain finally asked, gasping for air, "I came running all the way from my house to get here." Germany grabbed the basket of tomatoes, helping the Spaniard.

"He's right there." Germany said, pointing at the room. Spain nodded, and jogged towards the Italian's room. There, it showed the two brothers bickering.

"You should've told me you got a fever, idiota!"

"Ve, I'm sorry fratello..."

"You should be! I didn't even fucking know until the potato bastard told me!" Romano scolded at Italy. Veneziano nodded, and then turned his head towards the door. Spain was there, and Italy began to smile again.

"Ve, hi big brother Spain!" Italy exclaimed, "How are you doing?" Spain smiled at the Italian, and hugged him.

"Hola, Ita-chan." Spain murmured, happy that Veneziano was doing fine. "How are you feeling?" Italy smiled, and answered to the Spaniard.

"I'm feeling fine!" Italy exclaimed, "Though, I don't feel so well..." After that, his stomach growled, and Italy held his stomach. "I'm hungry..." Spain smiled, and ruffled up the Italian's hair.

"Don't worry, big brother Spain is here." Spain joked, and smiled at Veneziano. Romano looked at his brother, and another growl came in Italy's stomach again.

Romano got up, and went to the German. "You made my little fratello starve?!" Romano growled, "He's starving! He looks like he hasn't eaten anything for ages!" Germany sweat-dropped, and shook his head.

"Nein, he just ate two hours ago..."

"That's too long, you potato bastard!" Romano exclaimed, "No wonder he's hungry!"

Germany tried to respond back, but then Romano acted first before him. "What are you doing?" Germany asked, seeing Romano grabbing the basket of tomatoes from his hands, and going towards the kitchen.

"I'm going to make pasta for my fratello." Romano answered, washing his hands. "It seems though as if he never ate anything in forever." Germany tried to explain again, but Romano just ignored him.

Spain and Romano are here! What will happen to Italy? Reviews are welcomed in this story. I couldn't wait to write, so I started right after I finished the first chapter, and so yeah... I probably might update tomorrow or Saturday. If I make any mistakes, please tell me and I will change it.

~MoonlightStar400