A/N: it's the year 2024 and i haven't seen hetalia in 15 years. i dont know why i did this lmao

Fear. It was something he had become accustomed to. At first your heart pounds so loud that everything else seems to drown out and your knees suddenly feel as though they were always made of jelly. The tremors make your body vibrate and that pit in your stomach just won't stop growing. He was afraid now, but it wasn't that kind of fear. This one was different, older, sunken in and it now, in some twisted way, it was almost his biggest comfort. The jolt of motion from the decrepit old bus, shocked him enough that he decided to raise his head from the holes he was transfixed to on the seat in front. He regretted this almost instantly. There were a handful of other inmates sharing the journey. Most gave the impression that this was not their first rodeo, the kind of people he may have even crossed the street to avoid. When he had briefly caught their eyes, it sent shivers up his spine. They looked at him like they could see right through him, into every nook and cranny and into the depths of his mind. And that they could effortlessly devour him.

There were a few others on the bus. People like him who, didn't know what to expect when they arrived and who avoided letting their eyes wander. If they were afraid, they were excellent at hiding it and did he ever envy them. He was no longer shaking as he had been for the days, weeks, months, leading up to this, but whenever he caught a glimpse of himself in the dirty bus window, the terror was evident in his eyes. His slender face looked more withered and gaunt than he had ever looked in his life. Someone told him once that stress could do more damage to you than years of heavy drinking, it sounded like bullshit at the time. Now he could see the reality stretched across the face that used to to be so flush and full of life. He briefly thought about how in school people thought that his small stature would lead him to be the subject of ridicule, but it was much the opposite. The girls adored him and the boys weren't threatened by him. Well, that was until their girl was hanging off of his arm. Even so, he was charming enough he could pursue them into not kicking his teeth in and sometimes, they would be drinking and laughing with each other again before the next sun even started to rise.

Again, the rattling of the gate and cuffs rang out as the bus pulled into their final destination. He attempted to swallow the lump that now lived in his throat as one of the guards who had been riding upfront, on the other side of the cage addressed them. He didn't like looking at the guards almost as much as his fellow passengers. As always, orders were barked and nothing was explained. Just like his fear, this was now his new normal. He shuffled off the bus and into the blinding sunlight, instinctively raising his chained wrists to shield himself. Another regret.

He had never been to a prison before. Hardly knew if he had even seen one in person before. The facility towered over him and looked just as foreboding as it had looked in his nightmares. He had little time to dwell on this, however, as he became starkly aware of the small crowd that had formed behind the fences. He blocked out the profanities they were shouting as best as he could muster, focusing on what the guards were telling his group. He could only guess he missed something vital as they group had started to move in this time, but he stayed firmly fixed to his spot on the ground. By the time his brain had a moment to catch up and realize what was happening, one of the passengers behind him had already grown impatient.

"Get out of the fucking way!"

He met the ground with a thud, his cuffed hands doing little to brace the fall. He was sure now that the guards were speaking to him but all he could hear was a roar of laughter and obscene comments that were all directed at him. He was roughly pulled away from the ground by a rigid grip on his arm and shoved back into line, the guard making sure to let him know what a useless chicken shit he was. Before today, he was sure he already experienced every kind of fear known to man. But right now, he knew he had only scratched the surface.

During intake, things were a bit calmer. Instead of people being angry at him, they were indifferent and how he wished that everyone here were this indifferent towards him. The doctor had him strip, something he used to think was humiliating, but was now just another normal in this fucked up mess he found himself in. He was now sitting in his cell and pondering over the events the led up to now, thankful new inmates got some time to settle in before the rest of the prison is allowed back into the cell blocks. When the guards initially took him to his cell, he was sure he almost saw a flash of pity on their faces when they read who his cell mate was. Reinforced by the quiet "Good luck, kid" that one of them had said as he locked the cell door behind him. He didn't want to think about that though. Instead he thought about the circumstances that led him to now. The courtroom that was cold and filled with people whose eyes that held nothing but malice. His lawyer who his parents barely scraped enough together to hire, then just kept asking for more and more until there was nothing left to give. The night that changed his life. The look on her face as the life slowly drained out of it… He thought he could help. He just wanted to help. His mamma used to tell him that 'Feliciano, the road to hell is paved with good intentions' and he would wonder why she never told that to his twin brother, Lovino. I guess she always knew that his kindness would be his downfall, but not even she could've predicted how right that was. His parents made the move from the rolling countryside of Italy to try and find a better life for their two young sons and it devastated Feliciano that he would never be able to live up to their dreams. If he does get out on parole after 25 long years, his family will all have moved on by then. He would almost prefer they would just forget about him now but there's absolutely no way they would accept that. Even seeing him off, they told him not to get too comfortable because they would get him out, they would get him home. How he wished he could believe them.

A sharp sound of a bell suddenly broke out and he was on his feet in a second. He heard a guard shout something about dinner time and his cell door slid opened with a large clang. Nervously, he peaked out and it seems a couple other of the new arrivals were also in this block. He followed them, all the while doing his best to keep a distance between him and anyone else. Not that it mattered. He knew if anyone in here wanted to do something to him, he was completely powerless to stop it. He was hoping that when he hit 18 that maybe his body would finally get the idea and he would bulk up a bit, maybe even get an extra couple inches? The memo was not received and even at 20, he was still as small as he was in school. Feliciano rounded a corner and was thankful to see a mostly empty cafeteria. The idea of having to find a place to sit in what could be compared to as a high school cafeteria in hell was one of the things he had been dreading most. He supposed that the only reason it was this empty is because all the other inmates were not to be in their cell blocks during arrivals. He followed the general flow and just as he got his food, the rest of the population seemed to be filing in. He quickly got to a table and tried to make himself seem as small as possible, praying to a god that never answered, that he could just get through this meal. Again, it seemed like this god would ignore him. He heard the clambering as someone sat down across from him and stared so intently at the food in front of him, he briefly wondered if the heat from the gaze would help cook whatever underdone piece of pork that was sitting on his tray.

"Hey." His table partner said. Feliciano heart stopped. Maybe he wasn't talking to him? Maybe a friend of his was sitting close by? Maybe…

"You come with the new batch?" Fuck. No more pretending. He felt eyes on him the moment this guy sat down and was hoping that wasn't the case. He slowly lifted his head and met the eyes of the man sitting before him. He didn't know what he was expecting, but he certainly didn't expect someone so… Normal? The man had an inquisitive look on his face and Feliciano did not sense any sort of intimidation or hatred in his expression but he knew that didn't mean he could just let his guard down. He gave a slight nod to the man before refocusing on the pork that was as grey as the walls around him. The man chuckled softly and started eating from his own tray.

"Yeah, figured. You still got that whole 'shitting and pissing yourself' kinda vibe going on. Can't be helped." The guy talked with a mouthful of food and continued,

"Don't let 'em fool you, all these idiots were the same when they first got here. Especially me, I was king idiot. Thought I'd be running this place within a month." It was then Feliciano worked up the courage to get another look at the man. He was average size and when compared to a lot of the other people in here, he was lacking in the muscle department. Feliciano involuntarily raised an eyebrow, to which the man chuckled again.

"I know right? I was even more of a piss ant back then. Found out real quick how things work around here. Turns out when you punch the biggest guy here on day on, you DO get respect but you also end up in the infirmary for about a month." The man shrugged.

"Hey, you mind if I have that?" Feliciano looked at where the man was gesturing with his fork. It was at the half stale dinner roll that sat neatly on his plate. He gave a small nod.

"Oh, shit! Thanks, man." He reached over and quickly snatched the roll. "Real quick you're gonna find out about how much of a commodity carbs are. So, don't go sharing with anyone but me, alright?" The man winked at Feliciano and then he reached out his free hand.

"Name's Alfred." Feliciano stared at the hand, trying to decipher what the consequences may come with it. After a moment, he throws caution aside and hesitantly shakes the man's hand. "Feliciano." The other man beamed.

"Pleasure! Trust me, we're not all this nice to new meat. I'm an exception." He take an enthusiastic bite of a roll. "But that's why those suckers only have one roll."

Alfred rambled on for a bit longer the whole time he spoke, Feliciano wondered why he was being so nice. Why didn't he go up to any of the other new arrivals? By the end of the meal he managed to push a bit of his suspicion aside and agreed to have Alfred show him around the next day. Then he could explain the ins and outs of the system and who to avoid and who to not even think about looking at. Feliciano was almost hopeful that he had been building this up way too much in his head. Maybe he would be able to survive this place. Maybe it'll be a couple month of hanging out with Alfred and eating crappy food and then his family will have found a way to get him out. He settled into the bunk in his cell with these comforting thoughts in mind only to have them shattered, moments later. His chat with Alfred went so well that he had forgotten about the other person he shares his living space with. He was reminded by the sound of footsteps, marching into the room and before he had time to turn, he heard a loud bellowing voice.

"That is NOT yours!" The shock of it led to Feliciano toppling out of the bunk and onto the hard concrete floor. He scrambled onto his feet as fast as he could and was met with the most icy, intense stare that he had ever seen in his life. The man was a giant. He stood well over six-feet and even with the baggy jumpsuits they were required to wear, you could tell he was incredibly muscular. But that wasn't even the frightening part. It was his eyes. Blue and sharp and as they pierced into Feliciano, he could feel his blood rush and his bones quiver. Those eyes didn't even seem human. There didn't seem to be any humanity in them, at least. Just ice.

With one smooth stride, the man stood in front of Feliciano, making him feel so much smaller than he thought was possible. The large man pointed at the other bunk in the room, the one on top of where Feliciano had been curled up.

"If you value your limbs, you will be sure they stay inside YOUR bed." The harsh words punctuated by the thick German accent that came with them. "I will tell you once. Or else we will have a problem."

Feliciano moved with a speed he didn't know he possessed. He got on the top bunk, all the while stuttering out apologies and feeling the icy daggers dig into his back.

"I'm sorry, s-so sorry! I-I just th-thought it, it was m-made so nice that…" "Enough! Your next word will be your last." Feliciano was now on his bunk with his knees to his chest, too afraid to move again, let alone speak. Thankfully, the German man was no longer staring at him and was climbing into his own bunk. It wasn't until that man was securely laying down, that Feliciano realized he had been holding his breath. Too frightened to let the big breath he was holding, he quietly let it seep out a little at a time. That's how the rest of his night went. Paralyzed in fear and making sure that every breath, wasn't loud enough to draw attention.