Man, don't I feel terrible? I should've warned you guys last chapter that this was going to be it... I'm horrible. But I hope you enjoy, despite the fact that it's short. I could've never made it this far without you guys (even though it's only seven chapters). I appreciate everything.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I. DO. NOT. OWN. HETALIA.

Warnings: Death, language, Spamano, GerIta

Chapter Seven

Disinstalla

"The things you do for yourself are gone when you are gone, but the things you do for others remain as your legacy."

― Kalu Kalu

Once on the porch, Feliciano eased his brother to his feet and put Lovino's arm around his shoulder to support him in standing. Lovino tried not to lean on his brother too much, wanting to be independent despite his injuries. Feliciano knocked on the door with his free hand and said nothing as Antonio questioned what happened.

"To be blunt," Lovino winced dryly, "we got beat up."

Antonio quickly took Lovino in his arms and raised an eyebrow at Feliciano suspiciously, "And who the hell are you?"

"I'm-"

"…Feliciano?" a voice came from behind Antonio and it belonged to a rather surprised German.

Antonio moved out of the way, giving Ludwig a clear path to his missing lover. The blonde man touched Feliciano's cheek in gentle incredulity, and the Italian leaned into it with a smile.

"I can't believe you're really here," Ludwig whispered. "You've changed so much."

"Time tends to change people," Feliciano smiled before leaning up to the still taller German and planted a soft kiss on his lips which the latter gladly returned.

Antonio and Lovino turned around quickly, feeling that they were intruding on this little reunion. Ludwig and Feliciano parted then after with the Italian reading the emotions that just wanted to burst from his lover and wiping away the traces of oncoming tears.

"I'm sorry, but… I have to go," Feliciano muttered. "I'll be back, though. I promise."

"Already? But you just got here," Antonio protested.

"I can't risk being seen here with you. It's too dangerous," Feliciano turned to leave but was stopped when Ludwig grabbed his wrist longingly.

"What're you talking about? What's going on here?" Ludwig questioned.

"I can't explain right now, I really have to go," Feliciano placed his hand on top of the German's.

Ludwig reluctantly released the Italian, hurt that after two years of his absence, he already had to leave but spoke in a sturdy voice, "Feliciano."

The Italian looked back.

"I'm going to hold you to your promise."

Feliciano gave the man a thumbs up before disappearing into the surrounding foliage. The moment Feliciano could not be seen, Ludwig exited the room, clearly and silently upset.

Antonio threw Lovino an expectant glance, "You've got tons of explaining to do."

Lovino sighed, "I know…"

Lovino was never a kind person when woken up. In fact, he was the polar opposite. So to have his sleep disturbed in the middle of the night was a grave mistake on the one who decided to. A loud crash could be heard downstairs and Lovino groaned and sat up, intent on finding the culprit.

He hobbled out of bed and down the stairs, glaring at the numbers on the clock that read 1:30 A.M.

"What the hell are you guys doing in here?" he rubbed his eyes sleepily as he neared the bottom. However, there was no answer. There was no sheepish laughter from Antonio and no scolding from Ludwig. The house was dead quiet, making it seem deafening.

A dim glow came from the living room and as Lovino rounded the corner, he stumbled back and onto the floor, his mouth open in a silent scream. Before him were the bodies of Antonio and Ludwig, pale and lifeless. The Italian limped forward, trying to shake the duo awake.

"Antonio, enough, this isn't a joke! Ludwig, come on!"

But the two of them did not move.

"Antonio, wake up! You're not being funny!" tears started to gather in the Italian's eyes and spilled over without his notice. "P-Please wake up! Please!"

"And we meet again, Lovino," a voice that sounded sickeningly familiar could be heard.

Lovino looked up and growled at the American with a haughty smirk arranged on his face. "You son of a bitch, you did this, didn't you?"

"Of course," Brent took a puff of his cigar. "I don't like being deceived. And now, because of you and your brother's pathetic games, your lover and friend had to pay the ultimate price. And so will you."

A rag covered Lovino's mouth in an instant and the Italian's world went dark.

Feliciano arrived at Ludwig's house at the crack of dawn, knowing Ludwig would be awake and already getting ready for the day (something that he never understood). He looked around cautiously and listened, hearing nothing but the soft rustling of leaves and the whispering wind before knocking on the door.

He waited for a minute or two then knocked again, becoming gradually wary. He rattled the doorknob, astonished to find it unlocked and the creaking hinges screamed into the silence. The Italian stepped inside, his senses on high alert, and pulled his foot back when he heard the crunching of broken glass.

Feliciano moved swiftly and carefully so as not to alarm the intruder of his presence. When he arrived in the living room, he felt everything within him drop. The Italian rushed towards his friend and lover, checking their pulses and biting his lip when he was met with no response.

Tears raged down his cheeks, and resisted the urge to break down. He couldn't cave again… he had to be strong! He just had to be!

Broken necks is what he assumed due to the lack of blood or bullet shells (not that he expected to find any evidence of a weapon being used). Feliciano clenched his fists, nearly drawing blood. This was his fault. He knew better than to reveal himself to the others.

Could he do nothing right?

Once again, he caused the death of two more people he cared for… why? Why was it always him? Why was it always his friends?

Why?

The Italian's phone began to ring and Lovino's name flickered on the screen, "Lovino, where the hell are you at? No, just-,"

"You should've been much more careful, Feliciano," a chuckle resounded.

Feliciano ground his teeth together, "You bastard, you did this, didn't you?"

"All you needed to do was hand over the money the first time and you wouldn't be in this fix. But I suppose that was too complicated for you," Brent's chuckle died into a false sympathetic tone.

"Where do I meet you?" Feliciano asked.

"Now he wants to get down to business."

Lovino's voice could then be heard, "Feliciano, don't worry about me, get out of here! They've already killed Antonio and Ludwig! Go!"

There was a cry of pain after that and Feliciano could no longer endure it, "You're going to die for this, you realize that, right?"

"I'd very much like to see you try. I enjoyed that little stunt you pulled yesterday. I'm interested to see what else you're capable of."

"That was my intention," Feliciano replied sarcastically.

"Good to know. Meet me at the old sugar mill outside of town. And don't keep me waiting. I want my twenty-five grand or you and your brother will feel every penny."

The phone call ended afterwards and Feliciano stole one more glance at the two lying on the ground before rushing out of the house and into the morning.

"I've got your brother playing right into my hands," Brent smirked at the bloodied and bruised Italian tied down in the chair.

"You won't win," Lovino snarled.

"Really, now? There's one of him and just look around you. I'd say I have him beat. Besides, even if does give me the money, I'll still kill him. Oh, and you, too, of course. Now you both can apologize to each other in your graves," Brent pulled back Lovino's head roughly.

Lovino spat the collecting blood in his mouth at Brent's cheek which secured a blow from the American's walking cane in his abdomen. The Italian coughed as he tried to catch his breath and dry heaved, spitting saliva onto the ground. Brent pulled out a rag from his pocket and wiped away the crimson liquid from his face.

"Fucker," Brent rumbled quietly.

Yells of pain and the crashing of bodies against the wall and one another could be heard from the entrance. The doors opened slowly and Feliciano causally strolled in, his eyes blazing and contrasting his calm demeanor.

"You called?" the younger Italian stopped feet away from Lovino and the aristocrat.

"How good of you to come, Feliciano. We were wondering when you were going to show up," Brent sneered as he leaned against Lovino's weak frame.

"Feliciano, you idiot! I told you to run!" Lovino exclaimed with all that was left of his strength.

"Well, fratello, I've never been good at following orders."

"You're damn right you aren't!"

Feliciano glanced around from side to side and returned his gaze to Brent and Lovino as a group of men surrounded him in a semi-circle but kept his placid countenance.

"You sure you want to ride this train?" the younger Italian asked aloud and to no one in particular but the question was directed at the group of men.

"I'm sure they can handle it," Brent nodded and the group charged towards Feliciano with bats and whatever else they could get their hands on.

Lovino watched, his face transfixed between a look of horror and worry while Brent simply seemed amused. However, both their expressions fell as they realized that Feliciano was keeping his own with each man- easily dodging attacks and shattering bones with counter moves.

The last thug fell to the floor in a heap, his neck broken. Feliciano returned his icy stare to Brent who was now holding Lovino by the neck and at gunpoint.

"Come any closer and I won't hesitate to blow your brother's brains out," Brent threated, his finger brushing the trigger.

Feliciano halted and Lovino resisted the American as best he could with his wounds.

"Get out of here! I'm already dead, what difference does it make? Just go!"

"No. I'm not going anywhere. I'm tired of running, I'm tired of people fighting my battles for me just because I was the younger one. I'm tired of being a crybaby and a coward. No… this time things will be right. I was the one who was supposed to die that day, not you. I'm going to fix this," Feliciano declared.

"Giving in is not fixing this! They'll kill us both, don't you understand that? This is what they want! They want you to give up! Don't do this! Please!" Lovino shouted.

"You won't have to worry about me any longer, fratello. I'll be out of your hair for good. There's a bright side to this, I guess… I'll be with Ludwig again," the younger's smile was a pained one.

"No! Don't you say that! I'm sorry that I haven't been the best brother in the world! I'm sorry that I've picked on you and belittled you! I'm sorry about all of it! Just don't do this! You're my brother and I love you with everything I have! I lost Antonio, I can't lose you, too! Please!" Lovino cried with tears streaming down his face, mixing with the blood and dirt staining his cheeks.

That plea fell on deaf ears for Feliciano fell to his knees as two able men held him down lest he escape but the Italian did not. Feliciano closed his golden eyes forever and waited for his demise.

Brent threw Lovino to the other side of the room and advanced towards Feliciano, gun ready. The American placed the cool barrel to Feliciano's head.

"I've waited a long time for this," the American simpered.

Lovino wobbled to his feet and began running towards his brother, his injured leg begging him to stop along with his nasty gashes making his shirt stick to his skin from the blood. This time it really felt like slow motion… this time… he wasn't moving fast enough.

I can't lose him again! I just can't!

Lovino's aching heart boomed in his ears. His breath became short and raspy. His muscles pled for mercy. But just as Feliciano ignored his pleas, he ignored there's. He had to keep running. He couldn't stop. But the closer he seemed to be to Feliciano, the farther away he actually was.

"No…!" Lovino cried as his leg didn't take that extra step, the extra step that was needed to reach his younger brother… to save his life. The tears did not cease to make their paths on Lovino's face, dripping to the floor softly.

BANG!

"Feliciano!"

Lovino woke with a start, gasping for air, clenching at the sheets and eyes wide with fear.

"Fratello, fratello! It's okay! Calm down!" someone grabbed his shoulders and held him down to keep him from thrashing violently.

The person's face became clear as Lovino settled, still breathing heavily with a thin sheet of sweat accumulating on his forehead. Feliciano Vargas was staring at the older Italian, his brow creased with concern. Lovino drank in that picture, happiness swelling inside of him.

Feliciano was alive!

His younger brother was all right!

"Feliciano… you're okay…!" Lovino whispered in sweet relief and agony.

The younger smiled, "Of course I'm okay. I'm so glad you're awake. Let me get Antonio, I'll be right back."

Lovino almost protested, fearing that Feliciano would not live up to his claim. But the younger Italian proved him wrong by pulling Antonio into the room happily, his eyes shining bright and a smile gracing his face.

"See, he's awake!"

"Lovi!" Antonio hugged Lovino tightly.

A confused expression danced across Lovino's features. What was going on?

"W-What happened?" the Italian in bed questioned, his voice raspy from misuse. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The people he cared for most were standing right in front of him, and even Ludwig, who was standing quietly in the back of the room brought him reprieve.

"You were unconscious for over two weeks," Antonio brushed back his lover's hair that was damp from the cold sweat.

"H-How…?"

"You were shot in the chest. It barely grazed your heart. We were afraid that we wouldn't make it to the hospital in time," Feliciano replied with a sad smile. "This guy was trying to steal some money from us on our way home. Don't you remember?"

Lovino listened in amazement as he didn't respond. What could he say?

Everything that happened… had been a dream?

It was all a dream?

His death, Feliciano's disappearing act, Antonio's aloofness, the aristocrats… was nothing more than a reverie? A bitter nightmare?

"Fratello, are you okay? You seem… scared," Feliciano wondered.

Lovino, who had been desperately seeking to keep his emotions in check for what seemed like an eternity in his head, broke down then and there, surprising the trio in the room. The tears fell onto the sheets, creating a halo of overwhelming sorrow and anguish and joy.

Antonio, not understanding his lover's strange behavior, sat down next to Lovino and brought the man into a hug and the Italian clung onto him tightly as his body shook with sobs.

"No llores, mi amor," Antonio whispered lovingly, placing a tender kiss on Lovino's head. "No llores…"

Lovino's cries were the only sounds in the room for the longest time before Feliciano set his hand on his brother's and spoke, "Thank you, fratello."

No, thank you, Feliciano, for being the brother I could never be.

Thank you.

Disinstallia- Uninstall

That's it, it's over. Thanks so much for sticking with this story and for all the wonderful reviews you guys sent me! I'm so glad that you, my faithful readers, enjoyed this as much as you say you did! You were the reason that the chapters came out as fast as they did, so give yourself a big pat on the back :D

Anyway, so this is the end. The entire story was all a dream Lovino had while he was unconscious and in the hospital :)

Thanks again!

This is Crimson signing off one last final time!

Hasta la Pasta~!

(Want to know what inspired it all? Go to YouTube and search for Uninstall English Fandub *yes, the story was based off that song*. This somehow tied in with this story and gave me the idea. To me, anyway.)