"I knew it was you," Italy said, drawing a shuddering breath, "The whole time, I knew it. Why else would you even try to find me?" he hissed. "You sick bastard..." he said, smirking, "Killing your own brother. Just tell me, why'd you do it? Why did you kill your little brother, Gilbert?" The room fell into a deafening silence, and the door slammed at Poland and Lithuania rushed out the door. Prussia said nothing, tears welling in his crimson eyes. 'Come one, fucker! Tell me!" Feliciano screamed, cocking the gun.
"I-it was an accident! It r-really was!" Prussia choked, salty drops rolling down the albino's cheeks as his eyes grew larger with fear and regret. "It swear it. F-France, he challenged me t-to a duel after a fight. H-he never showed up, and the alley w-was so dark a-and Ludwig's hair was blond, I thought, I-I thought..." Prussia stammered, barely audible. He shuddered, and his head fell forward into his hands as he sank to his knees, howling.
"I-I-I'm so sorry, Bruder..." he breathed, shoulders shaking. Italy turned his head to the side and leered down at Prussia.
"F-Fratello..." Romano managed, stepping forward with an outstretched hand.
"Don't touch me, Lovino!" Feliciano barked at his brother, turning the gun on him. KRAK! Romano stumbled backwards and fell to one knee, clutching his right shoulder and grimacing in pain. Italy turned back and looked down on Prussia, who was sobbing on the floor.
"Get up," commanded. Prussia didn't move. "I said get up, cocksucker!" Italy said louder as Romano winced at his kind brother's uncharacteristically harsh language. Prussia stood on shaking legs like a new calf, weeping still and whispering unintelligible prayers into his Iron Cross.
"You're disgusting," Italy spat at Gilbert. "How can you call yourself a man? You deserve to die like your brother," Italy continued, baring teeth stained pink with a bitten lip, "Shot down like a dog." His finger tightened on the slick trigger on the gun.
"Italy, don't do this!" Romano interjected. Feliciano turned to face him, his eyes glassy, emanating an aura of unbridled hatred.
"Lovino, I only want to tell you one more time," Italy cracking a frightening smile at his brother and lowering the gun a little, "You need to stay the hell out of my business. Now, you sick motherfucker," he said, turning back to face Prussia, "Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you right now. And it had better be the best fucking reason in the whole goddamn universe." Prussia's shoulders quaked and he stood in silence, his silver hair obscuring his eyes. He went what felt like an eternity with no response, then lifted his face to look Feliciano in the eyes.
"Because I'm the only thing left. I'm all that's left of Germany," he said, unwavering.
"...Wrong answer." KRAK! Prussia seemed to fall in slow motion before hitting the floor. Romano stared in horror at Prussia, who now lay on the floor struggling to breathe, blood pouring from the bullet wound in his chest, just where his heart is. Lovino rushed to him and knelt.
"Prussia!" he cried.
"Please... Romano... tell Italy that I... I'm sorry..." Gilbert said, the carpet around him becoming heavy with blood. "Bruder..." he murmurred, his gaze growing distant, "I'm coming, West... he gasped finally, laying still. Romano lowered his head reverently, then closed Prussia's eyes and turned to face his brother, who was standing, sniggering.
"What are you laughing about? You're a murderer," Romano said angrily, clutching his injured shoulder. He paused, hearing distant sirens. "Do you hear that, brother? Toris and Feliks went for the police. They'll sentence you to death when they see all this," Romano siad, gesturing with a shaking hand to Prussia's lifeless form and the gun in Italy's grasp.
"No, they're not," Feliciano began to giggle madly, "Because by the time they get here, there'll be no one to sentence," he said with a disturbing grin, holding the gun up to his temple. Romano's eyes widened.
"No, you can't!" he yelled.
"What's there to lose? There's nothing left for me, fratello," Italy said, chortling. "I'll die if I'm arrested, that's for certain. Why not save them and myself the trouble by ending it all now? It'd be so much easier this way, don't you agree?"
"Italy..." Romano said feebly, but he couldn't do a thing. A final shot rang though the house, and the north of the country of Italy fell to his knees, gun in hand, at his brother's feet.
The police arrived shortly afterwards, Lithuania and Poland close behind, to the two countries dead on the floor and Romano by his brother on the blood-soaked carpet, head in his hands, his shoulders shaking in deep, wracking sobs of the worst kind of pain.