A small collection of stories.

A GerIta.

((Finished. Contains Dark themes.))

Italy walked into the house he shared with Germany, carrying the groceries he had bought on the way back from a meeting of his. He closed the front door and sighed as he locked it, juggling the grocery bag between his arms as he did so. He was surprised to hear a couple of things: a soft laughter coming from the kitchen, along with the squeak of a chew toy. He walked into the kitchen to see what was happening, setting down the groceries on the table. He glanced around then spotted none other than the German. The man in question was sitting on the floor with his back against the kitchen counter, holding onto a squeaky chew toy a playing tug a war with one of his dogs while chuckling softly at the dog. ".....Hi!" Italy finally spoke up. Germany immediately looked over to Italy. "Ah, hi Italy." Germany responded, blushing slightly, a light smile on his lips. Italy smiled back. "Why aren't you in your seat?" Italy asked, a hint of confusion in his voice. The blonde looked back to the floor, the game of tug a war forgotten. "I fell out. It rolled away, so I thought to pass time until you came back I'd play with the dog." Italy nodded slowly. "How long have you been there?" The Italian asked. "A half hour." Italy nodded again. The brunette crouched down next to the German.

"Where is it?" A vague question the Italian asked, but they both knew what he was talking about. "it got to the Living room I think." The blonde answered, nodding his head towards the open doorway. Italy stood back up, walking over to said doorway. He glanced back to the man sitting on the floor, and felt his heart hurt slightly as he saw that the smile on the man's face had changed into a grim expression. He turned back to the living room, finding the item that they needed. He turned back, rolling the item back to the kitchen. The blue eyed man looked up to the brunette, then down to the item. His expression changed to a saddened one. The Italian slowly wrapped his arms around to the German, in a firm embrace as he struggled to lift up the blonde. Germany was placed into his wheel chair. The man in the chair sighed as he adjusted himself in the chair, straightening out his legs by putting them in the proper footholds. "I'll get better at staying in the chair, don't worry." He said as if reading the Italian's thoughts, flashing a smile to the shorter man who stood there slightly out of breath. "Try to be more careful please," Italy responded, "what if I hadn't come home? What would you have done?" "Don't worry Italy, I can get back in myself if I truly needed to." Germany reassured. The Italian glanced at the ground. "You sure?"

"Positive."

Italy looked back up, remembering the day he found out that the place were Germany was having a meeting was bombed. He remembered the phone call, the fear that he had died, the tears of joy that slipped from his eyes when he found out Germany was alive, the tears of sorrow that had slipped out of the German's when he found out he was now a paraplegic. He closed his eyes when he remembered hearing for himself what had happened. "He was getting others out," the doctor told him, "he could see the bomb planted and tried to get others out before him judging by how he was the last one in the room and the closest to the bomb. They found him half crushed underneath the rubble, and we tried to save his spine but..." That was when the doctor trailed off. "Maybe because he's a country it'll heal itself."

That was 2 years ago. There was still no difference in the blonde's condition. Germany made due with the situation, working out frequently and playing many games that worked out his body. No doubt when the first meeting since the incident he got many shocked stares. The feeling of the moment he got that phone call started to take over the Italian. The fear, the shock, and most of all the worry and that feeling of dread. The Italian shook slightly as he stared at the floor, not noticing that the man in front of him was asking if he was okay. He was brought back into reality by a larger hand holding onto his shaking own. "Hey, Italy... Are you okay?" Germany repeated, worry in his voice. Italy looked up into his ice blue eyes, smiling slightly as he stared into Germany's eyes. Italy hugged Germany tightly, holding onto the German tightly and surprising the blonde.

"I'm just glad you're here."

~FIN~