I'm not a huge fan of this chapter myself, so I didn't spend as much time editing as I would have liked. As usual, I don't own Hetalia, and if you have any corrections or suggestions, please feel free to voice them! I don't have much more written in advance, so if you have any suggestions for how characters should die, or who you want to go next, my ears are always open.

Chapter 5
Return not

Germany stepped back into the house to the sound of sobbing coming from upstairs. At the sound, a thousand possibilities raced through his mind. He instantly regretted leaving Italy alone with Prussia, he hadn't seriously considered that his own brother could have been the murderer, or could have possibly hurt the smaller nation. Germany didn't hesitate before hurrying up the stairs and towards the sound of the sobbing, cautiously pushing open the door to his room out of habit to find it empty. He bit his lower lip and approached the guest room, the metallic smell of blood invading his nostrils as he gently cracked open the door. What he saw inside exceeded his worst nightmares.

Italy sat in the far corner, rocking back and forth, absolutely drenched in blood and clutching a small switch blade like a lifeline, while the still form of Prussia rested among the tangled and bloody sheets. Germany let out a strangled gasp that sounded almost like a whimper and took an almost involuntary step into the room towards his crying friend and his injured—dead? brother. Italy glanced up at the sound, his eyes wide open and filled to the brim with tears; seeing the tortured look in his eyes brought to mind the possibility that his brother might not have been the only hurt one in the room. Germany found himself stumbling towards Italy through the bloody room instead of his brother.

"Help...me." Italy choked out through a sob, staring pleadingly at Germany before his head lolled to the side and his eyes drooped shut.

Germany rushed to keep his friend from tumbling over, catching his limp body in his hands "Don't die on me yet, Italia" Germany growled "First Romano and Spain, then China and Japan, and after that Austria and Hungary, I won't lose either of you..."

Italy let out a quiet whimper, keeping his eyes screwed shut "Ve... Don't worry about me, Germany. I won't die." He tried to prop himself up, but only gave other short whimper as his hand slipped in the blood.

"You promise?" Germany asked, his voice cracking slightly and trembling despite his attempts to keep a calm and steady voice.

"Ve... Doistu... I promise." Italy agreed with the slightest smile "You can trust me..." His head rolled to the side again and despite Germany shaking him desperately, he remained unconscious, but alive.

He set his smaller friend down gently and approached the unmoving form of his brother "Bruder..." He whispered with an unsteady voice. He checked for signs of life and the faint flutter of his brother's chest brought a wave of relief. A the sound of his brother approaching, Prussia forced his eyes open just enough to look at his baby brother

He coughed slightly, spewing more blood onto the sheets "Hey, West." He choked "Sorry, I kinda messed up."

Germany lifted his brother off the bed and held him close "Who did this to you two?" He asked quietly.

Prussia seemed to ignore the important question, as self-important as ever "You always told me to keep my hands to—" He broke off to cough up more blood "To myself when I was around Italy... I guess this is what I get."

Germany narrowed his eyes "What do you mean, Prussia? What did you do?"

"I just thought—when he was little... Do you know how much he looked like a girl?" He chuckled, resulting in more blood bubbling at his lips "I didn't realize... It was a long time ago—I didn't even think he remembered, but..." He broke off again to cough "I'm sorry, West, forgive me..." It swooped up at the end, but Germany wasn't sure whether it was a cough or a question.

"Dummkopf" He scolded his brother "What were you thinking?" He couldn't bring himself to become furious at his brother like he wanted to, not while he was so close to death.

"I don't know, West, I don't know..." He heaved a painful sigh and blood trickled down his chin.

"But either way, you're my bruder, Prussia! I promise I'll kill whoever did this... Tell me who and I'll strangle the life from them myself!" He spat the words like they were poison in his mouth.

"If I did then Italy would be breaking his promise to you..." Prussia rasped with an echo of his usual grin dancing over his lips "And... Um, can you do me a favor? Tell Canada I have to cancel for dinner" Then his eyes drooped shut and he went limp.

"Bruder!" Germany cried, shaking his brother to avail "Bruder... Prussia... Don't die on me..." It was a bit late for that request, but Germany couldn't help the tear-filled pleas that escaped between his lips without end until he too dripped in the ex-nation's blood.

His desperate pleas tugged Italy back into reality, although he kept his eyes closed. In that moment he was truly scared for what would happen next. Germany would come to find that Italy had no wounds, and he would put the pieces together. By the way Germany was pleading with Prussia, Italy could only assume he had lived through the brutal attack, of course there was no way he wasn't dead by this point. If he had lived however, it would have given Prussia the chance to tell Germany the truth. Not the real truth, because Prussia didn't know about the foolish deal and the darkness, but he did know that it was Italy killing them all. Now Germany would tear the life from Italy. It was... over.

He lifted his tired body from the floor without a sound despite the way his tense muscles protested. He stood shakily, but still did his best to stay quiet, lest Germany see he was standing. He moved towards the door with a painful sluggishness and it wasn't until he was in the doorway that Germany looked up. His eyes widened slightly as he registered his smaller friend's attempt to escape the room.

"Italy?" He called gently "Don't go, you're hurt." His voice trembled and broke as more tears spilled down his cheeks "Don't leave, Italy, don't leave." He repeated the plea like a prayer until Italy cut him off.

"So you can kill me?" He croaked bitterly, surprised that his body remained free of the numbness the darkness brought when it kept him from talking. Almost like it was taunting him, telling him it was too late. That it was time to tie up loose ends himself.

"Kill you?" Germany echoed "You don't think that I'm—No! Italy, I'm not the killer... You can't possibly think that I would—"

A burst of laughter escaped from Italy "You? You cast as the killer? Funny, Germany, really funny." He rasped "I know that you know. He must have told you." Still his body remained free of the darkness.

"I don't understand! You refuse to tell me who it is, how would I know?" Germany demanded.

Italy actually opened his eyes in his shock "You really don't know?" Could Germany actually still believe it was France?

"No." Was all Germany offered as a response, his shoulders jerking in a sob.

"Oh." Italy's breath came out in a whoosh, his feelings flitting between relieved and disappointed "Then there's time."

"Time for what, Italy?" Germany asked as Italy backed out of the room "Don't you dare leave! You know who the murderer is! I must know so I can make them pay for hurting my friends." He paused and cast a mournful glance at his still brother "...My family..."

"I'd tell you, but I'm not one to break a promise." The faintest smile danced over Italy's lips, both his words and expression painfully reminiscent of Prussia's last words. He turned and fled without another word, leaving Germany alone with his dead brother and a very bloody room to clean up.

Poor Germany is totally in denial.