Dear Feliciano - Chap. 10

Where is my Germany, Italy thought to himself, where could he be?
The Italian crept through the house, his heavy black boots creaking on the ancient wooden floors. He looked around, seeing dolls without faces and vases with dead flowers. This was Russia's house, sad and lonely in all its horror.
It seemed... haunted, somehow. Now, Italy didn't believe in ghosts, but this place seemed to be full of them. Not ghosts, no... Maybe memories? Memories of a happier time.
It was hard to imagine, but Italy thought that there may have been a time when Russia's smiles reached his violet eyes and his laughter warmed the heart. Now all that was left was pain.
"G-Germany," Italy whispered, his voice cracking, "Please be alright."
Feliciano leaned around a doorway and opened his eyes to look about the room, nearly screaming when his eyes fell upon a fresh corpse on the floor. His hands flew to his lips, stifling the loud screech that nearly escaped them.
It was China, once a great nation, now reduced to skin and bones, a bullet wound on his back, blood staining the dirty, white walls. One hand cushioned his head, the other reached out into the darkness, the ivory flesh bloody and grimy. His head was turned to the side, looking out at the moon with a dead stare.
Italy couldn't bare to look much longer. He took a blanket from the pile in the corner and covered the body with it. He said a small prayer, kneeling over Wang Yao's cold figure and crossed himself.
Standing, he wiped the tears from his brown eyes and turned to continue his search.
"Hmm?" Italy whispered as a small paper caught his eye, lit by the moonlight. It was signed 'TL' and Italy knew the handwriting well. It was Lithuania's.
"I'm sorry," the note read, "It was a sacrifice for the greater good. It was him or the entire world. TL."
Feliciano left the room and started up the stairs, keeping towards the wall, avoiding creaks and cracks. A noise from the top of the stairs nearly caused him to fall backwards. He brought his gun to point at his enemy, "Wh-who's there...?!" he cried softly.
The sound of flesh punching flesh made Italy cringe. It was coming from the last room in the hallway, light from a source in the room illuminating the wall across from it. Two forms were silhouetted in the brightness of the flickering beams. They were each holding what appeared to be bludgeons of somekind.
One walked with a limp, the other, a huge, bulking figure, towered over him. A water pipe was clearly the weapon of choice for the taller of the two.
Italy winced as the pipe connected with the other man's back. It made a loud thunk as it hit.
"I will kill you, Ludwig Weilschmidt!" the taller man bellowed, his voice echoing in Italy's ears, "The world will never remember the great German Empire...!"
"I... I'm not an empire... anymore..." a soft voice panted, "I'm just a country. And a country never gives up. That's what makes it strong. Size doesn't matter... The will to protect what it has does."
Italy began to weep, his tears running down his cheeks faster then he could wipe them away. It was Germany who'd spoken.
His fight now fueled by his rage and hatred for Russia, Italy bounded up the final few steps and bolted down the hallway, hands reaching for the gun on his back.
"Stop...!" he cried, raising the gun to Ivan.
Russia had an expression of shock for a few brief seconds. Then he began to laugh, "Oh, look, Germany! The Italian has come at last."
His voice sickened Feliciano.
"Fel-Feliciano... Leave..." Germany begged, lying on the ground in a puddle of his own blood, "Go!"
"No, I won't leave you!" Italy sobbed, "I'll never let you go again!"
Russia rolled his eyes, "Oh, how touching. I'm going to throw up."
"You... YOU," Italy screamed, a terrifying, strange fire lighting his eyes, "I'll kill you if it's the last thing I do!"
"Really?" Ivan purred, "Try me. Go on."
With a horrifying howl unlike anything that had passed before Italy's lips before, he lunged at the maniacal Russian, clawing and punching at whatever he could reach. His momentum forced Russia to stumble backwards and fall to the ground.
"Don't. You. Dare. Lay. A. Hand. On. My. Germany. Or. Any. Of. My. Friends. Ever. Again!" Italy yelled, kneeling on Russia's chest and landing punch after punch on Ivan's face.
"Get off of me, you little bastard!" Russia growled, a cold air settling in the room. He swung an arm around, clipping Italy on the shoulder and knocking him sideways to the ground.
Italy scrambled to his feet and stumbled to Germany, falling to his knees, taking Germany's head in his hands, "I'm so sorry..."
"Not your fault," Ludwig whispered, his voice thinning. Italy could see the gash on the side of his neck. It wasn't very big, but it was deep. Deep enough that Germany could bleed to death if he didn't get help soon.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Russia had stood up and had begun walking across the room, taking his gun and inserting a new cartridge into it. He was walking very slowly... Building up tension in Italy's muscles.
Click. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Italy's heart slowed despite the large amount of sheer terror that was coursing through his veins. His heartbeat seemed to match pace with Russia's footfalls.
Feliciano doubled over Ludwig's body, holding the dying man close to him.
It all happened in a second. The gun was raised towards the overhead light, it fired, causing the bulb to explode. Darkness fell in the little room.
Fire from the second explosion of the weapon was the only light Italy saw.
The bullet hit.


"Sir... Sir," the boy cried, racing after the black-clothed man, "Do you want me to help you?"
"No thank you, I wish to be alone for this."
"Yes, sir..." the boy backed away, running down the hill towards the waiting car.
The man watched Latvia disappear into the black vehicle. He turned towards the headstone, letting the tears flow freely.
"Are we really ever free?" the man asked, kneeling before the grave, "Is someone always in our way? To what does it matter that we, human beings, are ever allowed to truly live? Will there always be wars? Violence will forever have a grip on humanity. As long as there are humans, there will blood. We can always count on that. However, through the time, we can always count on two people, no matter their gender, to realize that they love each other. It was a blessing for me to know you, to love you, and to hold you in my arms. I will never forget you as long as I am upon this Earth."
The sun was shining bright that day, the storm had passed for now.
The man stood, finishing his talk to no one, and with a final look, started down the hill.
On the small mound of earth, he'd left the bloody, scratched, Iron Cross of Bravery with four white lilies.
"You were so brave... So foolish," he whispered to himself, "You gave the biggest sacrifice anyone could have ever given. And I love you, my dear Feliciano. You'll forever be in my heart."