Wednesday Story: Who am I? Part One

Brought to you by: Jenna (The-Cookie's-Monster)

Pairing/Character: Itacest

A/N: This story is…important to me, because I struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts quite frequently.

Trigger Warning: Cussing, mentions of cutting, attempted suicide, Incest

Romano. Hated half the time and mistaken for Italy the other half. He wasn't allowed at meetings, even though his opinion, because yes, he did have one, was usually better than his brother's. He was used to this by now, but it still hurt his feelings to be forgotten so much. Spain remembered him, but, even someday, he barely noticed him, too busy with his own idiocy.

He tugged the sleeves of his jacket, trying to hide his arms even more. Why did he even bother trying anymore? Italy only wanted to flirt with Germany and Spain was always too busy. No one really cared anymore. Not like they ever did.

What could he do? He wasn't exactly useful, at least, in his mind. He didn't serve any point nymore. He was aware the only reason he still existed was due to old prejudices between North and South Italians. It really hurt him. More than he showed, though. He just cussed it off and went on. A hand grabbed his wrist and he bit his lip to keep back the pain, "Dammit, Feli!" He squeaked, tugging his wrist. "Did Germany ditch you?"

"Okay, fine he did. I was going to ask if you'd seen him." Italy pouted, letting go of the wrist, and grinning.

"I haven't."

He frowned, "What's wrong, Lovi?"

"I'm fine, Feliciano." He lied.

"All right, then. See you, Lovi~!" He called, heading off. He sighed, holding a pillow close to him and sighing as he sat on the couch. He heard the door close and sighed. Alone again. He'd only asked if he was okay because it's what Feliciano did. You'd think a brother would notice when someone was in love with him.

Yes, he was totally inrevocably in love with Italy. Hell, they were brothers and incest was wrong, they'd been raised as such. And being in love with a male was bad. He sighed, heading to the kitchen. Why bother trying to gain his brothers attention anymore? All he cared about was that damn German. Why wouldn't he notice his love? It was obvious Germany didn't love him, so why bother chasing after something you'd never get. Heh, he was being hypocritical, he realized.

He'd never have a chance with his brother. It was stupid to even think so. With him gone, though…Italy and everyone would be so much better off. They'd be happier without his ugly, annoying, selfish, stupid self in their perfect world. Before he knew what was happening, his fingers were on the gun he kept in the house for emergency. He closed his eyes, a few tears leaking out. No one would cry once he was gone. Feli, Antonio, the Potato bastard, everyone would laugh and be happy. He cocked the gun, pointing it at his temple, opening his eyes and smiling.

He began to squeeze the trigger, when suddenly the gun was knocked from his hands and someone was hugging him tightly, "Lovi! W-Why would you do that, fratello? W-Why would you try to kill yourself?" His sobbing brother demanded.

He broke down right there, confessing everything. His brother held him close, moving to sit on the couch with him. "Is that all?" He asked once he was done.

"And I kinda… Ti amo…" Romano muttered. His brother was speechless, before breaking into a frown.

"Really? That's…Oh…" Italy wasn't sure how to respond. The older brother moved away from him, wiping his tears.

Lovino gave his brother a sad look. "I…I know you probably hate me. I don't blame you. I'm a freak. I go against everything we were taught. I…" He trailed off, standing up. There was a crash of thunder and he sighed. "Just…forget it." He muttered, walking out the door, into the rain. As he walked, he thought.

"Why would Italy bother saving me?" He wondered out loud as he kept walking.

Back at the house, Italy was calling everyone and panicking, but thankful everyone was staying in Italy, due to a world conference being held. He was trying to get everyone out searching for his brother. Once done, he grabbed his jacket and keys, hurrying to his car and beginning to drive. Where could he possibly be?

Romano walked into a coffee shop, ordering a coffee and sitting at a far table sighing. He contemplated running away. About the only thing he was good at. Running away. He was quite good at it. Someone walked into the coffee shop, "Hello. Have you seen this boy?" A distinctly French accent asked the lady at the counter who giggled.

"Your brother was worried, Lovino." France said, looking down disapprovingly. "Very, very worried."

TBC…