GerIta : Love Hurts

It was a mystery why Germany had woken up that night. And as always, the first thing that he noticed was that Italy had managed to sneak into his bed again. Lieber Gott im himmel ! How did that sneaky Italian manage to get into his bed without him noticing every single night?  Even so, tonight seemed different. Normally Italy would be sprawled out and letting out little 've's of contentment at this point, somehow managing to never invade his space.

Tonight however was different. Germany's Italian friend was curled in on himself, the usual 've'ing replaced by whimpering. Germany felt his normal frown deepen. Was Felciano sick? he was shivering despite the warm spring weather and the blanket that he was hogging. Germany sighed, pulling himself from bed and walking to the other side of the bed.

Italy's face was contorted in an expression of pain. It was such a contrast to Feliciano's normal carefree smile that is made Germany's stomach turn in on itself. There was something fundamentaly wrong with Feliciano frowning. It was practically against the laws of nature. Germany let out another breath. Italy groaned in his sleep.

"sh-Shinsei Roma" the Italian groaned again, reaching out and grabbing at the sheets. Tears escaped Feliciano's closed eyes as Germany put a hand against Italy's forhead, checking for a temperature. And sure enough his forehead felt as if it was on fire. Germany sighed again as he fetched a spare blanket from the closet and draped it over Italy. Italy's cries grew more and more desperate as he began to toss and turn. Now he was practically screaming. Germany swallowed again, but shook the nation, hoping to god that this wasn't a heralding of any sort of major illness.

"Italy" Germany put a steadying hand on Italy's shoulder, trying to keep him from rolling off the bed or anything like that.

"N-no" Italy's groan was breathy, and suprisingly Germany was having trouble holding the thrashing nation down.

"Italy wake up! It's just a dream" At first this situation was mildly annoying, and somewhat concerning, but now it had downgraded into being scary, and even disturbing.

"No! No! Don't leave!" Now Italy's sleep mumbling had transformed into all out screams of terror as his eyes snapped open. Normally the Italians golden brown orbs were soft, and filled up his face with a warm sort of calm happy light. But now they were wide and sharp,unseeing and frightfully stormy and dark.

" Don't leave! Sh-shi shi-shinsei....Shinsei roma! Y-you can't go! Y-you can't" Italy sucked in a huge breath. Only now seeming to realize that he needed oxygen.

"You'll die" Italy whispered, his eyes finally beginning to calm slightly and see Germany and not Shinsei Roma. Whoever that was.
"G-Germany?"

"Feliciano you have a fever. Just go back to sleep" Feliciano shook his head.

"No! Germany... I-I've got to- I've got save him!" Feliciano is clinging to Germany. Trying desperately to get out of bed, trying to drag him along on the irrational quest.

"Save who?" Germany asked confusedly, pushing Italy back into the bed.

"Shinsei roma! H-He's fading away!"

"He's fading..." Tears flowed with more intensity down Feliciano's cheeks.

"h-he... I have to... I-I gotta... I gotta find him Germany.. I have to" Italy's voice cracked.

"Italy you have a fever. You need to sleep" Italy shook his head violently, and actually managed to push Germany's arms away and run towards the door.  Thankfully, the Italian's clumsiness interveened before Italy could get to the door, leaving him sprawled across the floor, looking even weaker then usual as he sobbed. His slender chest heaving up and down with the effort that the heart wrenching sounds were taking from him.

Despite himself, Germany felt his heart ache within his chest. Yes, the troublesome Italian named Feliciano was always getting him into messes that could be avoided if Italy had simply listened to his orders, or employed common sense. Yes he was always falling asleep in the middle of the day and eating enough for at least five people. But he was also Italy... And for some reason that one fact was enough to make Germany forgive him for anything that he did, no matter how stupid.

But now when Germany saw Italy crying like this. So helpless, and sad. So unlike the Italy that he knew. The ever smiling Italy that babbled about pasta and pretty much anything else. The one who begged him for hugs even though every time Germany obliged he noticed their height difference made him frustrated. This crying mess was not the Italy he wanted to know. Germany let his eyes soften.

"Italy" Italy nodded. It was a shaky and tremor filled nod, but a nod nonetheless, a nod that showed that he was at least somewhat in touch with reality. Germany sighed, wondering in the back of his mind why the sound pulled so much from him. He'd always been terrible with emotions and time had done nothing to help. He could throw a grenade (unlike Italy), hell, he could deal with Prussia, AKA the most annoying, egotistical and hyperactive bruder in all the world, but he couldn't for the life of him think of what could possibly be bothering Italy so much.

"Would you like some water?" Germany mumbled awkwardly, helping the Italian back into bed. Italy shook his head no.

"Mi dispiace" Germany shook his head.

"I don't speak any Italian"  Feliciano bit his lip, completely ignoring Germany, tears once again starting in his eyes and flowing down his face.

"Mi dispiace Sacro Romano Impero"

"Mi dispiace davvero"

"Germany" Ludwig nodded, unconciously holding onto the hand of his Italian friend.

"I loved him..." Feliciano choaked out, gripping Germany's hand tightly. Germany felt tears prick at his eyes against his eyes against his will. But he kept them back. Not only because his pride as a grandson of Germania, but so that he could be strong for Italy like always. So that Italy could know that he was there to lean on. He was there, even if he didn't always say the right thing, or anything at all.

"Es tut mir leid Italien" Germany muttered, drawing Italy into his arms, cradling the smaller nation against him. Yes, tears were soaking through his shirt, and Italy was sobbing once again, Italian and English becoming mixed together in mumbles of apologies and some "I remember that time"s  But soon enough the Italian's talking petered off, and he was simply silently shivering in Germany's arms.  

"Gute Nacht, Italien" Germany tucked the brunette in. Italy's eyes fluttered, and he clung to Germny's shirt.

"Stay" Germany blinked.

"Please stay Germany. Don't leave me... I'm so sick of people leaving me"

"You'll never come back again... No one ever does..." Italy's eyelids fluttered again, but his expression was bitter, angry even.

"Italien, what are you talking about?"

"I promised to wait for him. With sweets..." Germany sighed, finally giving up on making any sense of his Italian friend.

"I'm still waiting for him" Italy sighed.

"Germany... have you ever been in love?" Germany shook his head.

"Nien" Italy laughed softly, letting his eyes close.

"Good... That's good Germany... Love... Love hurts so badly... I don't want Germany to have to hurt"  Germany bit his lip. What exactly did he say to that? What could he say? He'd lied about not having ever been in love. He was in love. He was in love with Feliciano. But Feliciano was in love with someone else. And obviously this wasn't a new developement. Yes. Love did hurt. It hurt like a bitch.