The Countries, In a Maze? ( A Hetalia Fanfic!)

Chapter 12~Italy

So these final few chapters are just gonna be the countries gaining their memories back. If you're only interested in reading a specific character's, or none of them, or all of them, go for it. Tell me what you liked or disliked in them. I won't even slightly dislike you at all if you say something wasn't at the peak of perfection. I'll get on with the story now.

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*Italy's POV*

I was scared for Canada when he went through that door. It reminds me of what I remembered, all those stark white walls surrounding me as I was operated on... I shudder just thinking about it. What if they are doing the same thing to my friend right now? How would he ever recover from that?

My thoughts were interrupted by the intercom. It crackled to life " Hello countries. I would like to ask Italy to exit through the same door as Canada when we sound the beep. Thank you." The voice was so emotionless that I almost didn't realize what it had said. When I did, my eyes widened and I curled into a ball.

I felt Germany come closer and wrap his arm around me in a comforting way. The time passed with us staying like that for who knows how long. It could have been five minutes or five hours. Either way the beep sounded, signalling my time for passing.(A/N:Totally just made it sound like he was going to die~)

As I walked to the door, I looked back to see absolute fear and worry etched on everyone's face. How encouraging. Funny how grim situations bring out the humor in people. After what seemed like an hour I reached my destination. I walked through into a world of white washed walls and bright lights.

The door slammed as I was pulled into a room by four people in scrubs. I looked around at the 'furnishings.' It was decked out in full operating room style, complete with table and operating apparatus tray. This room seems familiar. Too familiar. I then realized it was a room identical to the one in my vision-memory-thingy.

Activate full freak-out/spasm mode. I started turning the doorknob to find it locked, banging on it, punching and elbowing the people in scrubs. My eyesight got blurry as my eyes filled with fear-triggered tears that streamed down my face. Then I felt a prick at shoulder and fell limp to the floor.

"I forgot he was the one who got stung." One of the scrubs commented. The others grunted in a how-could-we-forget-that kind of way while they carried me over to the table and strapped down my wrists, ankles, and forehead. Like I would be able to move them anyway.

Just then, a man walked in. He looked like the kind of man who was normally carefree and happy, but now is grim and dead-serious. "Italy. How I wish we didn't have to do this. We all regret it. Soon you'll know why we have to. Maybe then you can forgive. Maybe." His accent was like mine, but not as thick. As he turned to leave one of the scrubs informed him of what happened. All he did was turn around and say, "I'm really sorry," before turning and rushing out of the room.

The scrubs came over to check on the restraints that painfully dug into my skin, just to tighten them even more. How much torture are they going to put me through? I knew it wouldn't get answered until later. Right now I had bigger things on my mind. Like the too-familiar mask coming towards my face.

I had to watch helplessly as it was lowered, my breath shortening in panic despite the drugs. My only thought anything but this. Anything. It finally rested just above my forehead, coming to a stop. Two thin wires descended to my ear canal and entered. They tickled in a bad way before pain erupted from my ears. My mouth opened a bit and a ghost of a scream came out.

My heart started beating rapidly while my lungs were working overtime hyperventilating. The nearly silent scream rose slowly until it reached a nearly deafening pitch and volume. The pupils in my golden-brown eyes were overriding the irises from fear. Then the wires came out. Covered in my blood. One of the scrubs spoke into a transmitter "Sir, we've finished with the procedure."

A reply came through, but I couldn't make out any words. I was too busy with my overload of memories rushing through my head, creating a massive headache.

Being taken as a little country to live with Grandpa Rome. Having Holy Roman Empire constantly trying to take me to live with him. My foster care as a housekeeper for Mr. Austria and Ms. Hungary. Visiting with big brother France.

Hiding in a tomato box during WWI only to be taken prisoner by Germany. Forming an alliance with Germany and Japan during WWII.Getting stranded on an island with the other Axis Powers. Various training times with Germany having to put up with me. Having pasta with Germany. Showing Japan around my home.

The events leading up to my boss telling me about some contest I was going into, merely saying "Only one country can win this, Italy. Your whole country is depending on you. Just like the world did in the Pict invasion."

Getting taken to a secret base and having my memories erased. Waking up in the maze, confused.

I blink back to reality to find that three of the scrubs left, leaving one to look after me. He noticed I woke up and spoke into the transmitter again, "Sir, he is awake now." A pause, then, "Yes, I think he remembers fully. You may enter." A few minutes later the same man as before came in, me now recognizing him as my boss.

"I believe you now understand my apology, Italia. We truly didn't want this to happen, but it came to the point where we have no other option. And I want to tell you more, but I can't. I'm sorry." He looked very sad while saying this. I would have told him it was alright, that he didn't have to apologize for something that wasn't his fault. But instead I just lied there, looking with an expression blank except for my pity-filled eyes.

"You may bring him to the other room when he can move again. Make sure he doesn't get to the other countries until they are done as well." These were his instructions to the operator before leaving the room. My restraints were released and I could feel a bit of blood lining where they were. They surely didn't need them that tight.

Soon enough I could move around, although a bit drunkenly. I was led to another room, similar to the room the other countries were in, just smaller. My eyes locked onto a blond figure standing in the middle of the room. "Canada!" I called out for him, causing pain to go through my ears, throat, and worsen my headache. But I didn't care.

He turned to see me and a smile lifted his lips. I ran(wobbled quickly) towards him, only to fall down with a gasp halfway there. Only then did I remember my ankle, wrist, and probable forehead injuries. "Italy, what happened? What are these marks from?" I jumped because I didn't hear him coming.

"It doesn't matter, Canada. I remember now, and I think I am even more scared than before."

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 Can I have the pleasure of hearing/reading your opinions, please. That is all I have to say for now. Ciao~