Just Gerita Stuff

Miracles Do Exist (Angst)

WARNING: THIS IS BOYXBOY TRIGGER WARNING MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH AND GERMANY=HRE THEORY DON'T LIKE DON'T READ THANK YOU

It was a normal day for italy, but something was off. He felt more self conscious than usual, and it had to be the day he and Germany chose to go shopping and visit his brother in Rome. Italy looked in the mirror and sighed, he was never going to be as strong as germany, or even close to it. he felt weak, germany always had to come and save him every time he was in trouble. for once, he would love to be strong, independent, for germany. germany sat in his office trying to plan out what he and the italian will do all day when he hears a slight sniffle coming from the room next door. italy continued to look in the mirror, he sighed and tried to sniffle his tears away throwing on some casual clothes to blend into the humans in the crowd. the small italian walked slowly over to germany's office. his small nimble fingers grazed the edge of the door knob. he lightly grasps the very edge and slowly inches open the door. the door creaks to a stop. germany turns around turns around in his chair and their eyes meet. germany can't help but worry about italy. italy's eyes were bloodshot and germany could see from his chair across the room that italy was shaking slightly. "i'm ready," italy announced in his normal enthusiastic voice, but the thing was, italy was not feeling enthusiastic... at all. something inside him made him force a smile, a laugh, the entire, "im always happy" attitude around germany. italy forced out a small giggle and quickly waltzed over to his, a little too serious, german lover. "are you almost ready?" italy asked in the same tone as before. "ya, just let me finish this one thing, feli." germany responded a little more mono toned that usual. all italy could think about was what is wrong with germany? is he okay? he hopped he wasn't worried about him... that is the last thing he would want. his thoughts were cut off by germany standing up and wrapping his jacket around his muscular frame. italy stared at germany's chest and back down at his then sighed. "what's the matter feli?" germany asked italy concerned about the small sigh that escaped the italian. "nothing! in okay, grazie luddy!" italy smiled up at germany hoping he couldn't see through the lie, but little to italy's knowledge, germany could tell something was wrong and he was determined to find out what. the couple walked out the front door saying goodbye to prussia, germany's older brother, on the way out. the two made their way to the car, germany opened the passenger side door for italy, allowing him to get in the car first. "grazie luddy!" italy chimed before climbing into the average sized car. germany walked over to the drivers side, getting in as well. after turning the ignition, germany turned to italy and asked him, "are you ready?" italy smiled making his eyes more squinted than normal and repled, "si, let's go!" Later at the store, germany walks over to italy's side of the car and lets him out. italy holds out his hand and germany slips his fingers into italy's. neither of them let's go until, a stranger walks over and says, "don't you think that's gross to other people, two boys shouldn't hold hands like that" italy's face drops along with his hand, "you're right, i'm sorry sir" germany looks over at the italian confused, why would he listen to that homophobic creep. that isn't like italy, italy would have smiled and kept going. something is so obviously wrong with italy but germany could not find out what. after walking in the store for like 30 minutes, italy's arms were full of mostly sweaters and like one or two buttoned shirts. italy runs into the dressing room, with germany following behind. italy closes the curtain, leaving germany outside. italy looks in the mirror and swallows the lump in his throat, he's been dreading this all day. he slowly unbuttons his shirt, as every button releases, his anxiety increases. he pulls the shirt off his small frame and lets his fingers run over his small arms. he lets his fingers glide over every insecurity, his arms, "weak," he whispers. his stomach, "fat", his face, "ugly", he rests his head on the mirror and his eyes start to water. "i'll never be perfect." as italy was in the dressing room, germany is outside on the wall. he hears a faint sigh and he listens into the room. with every whisper, germany tightens his grip. why did italy feel this way. he was perfect in germany's eyes. and when italy whispered he'd never be perfect, germany had enough. he grabbed the curtain and let himself in. he wrapped his arms around the small italian. Germany let his fingers trace every detail of his lover's chest and whispers in his ear, "perfect". He put his hands on italy's shoulders and lets his hands fall down to the Italian's hands and lets their fingers interlock. He whispers in the other ear, "perfect". Italy's tears grew stronger and germany's eyes glasses up and let a tear fall on to italy's back. Germany wraps his arms around italy's waist so Italy's arms wrap around himself. Germany leans over and kisses each cheek and whispers, "beautiful". He would never want Italy to feel this way, Italy was all Germany ever wanted. They were perfect for each other. Italy leaned his head back onto Germany's chest so he could feel his heart. He took a deep breath and turned around wrapping his arms around Germany and letting his tears soak through Germany's shirt. Germany strokes the back of Italy's head while whispers sweet things in his ear. Italy's sobs turn into silent hiccups and he lets go smiling up at Germany. "I'm buying this stuff for you." Germany states. "No, this is so much stuff I can't let you do that for me I-" Italy starts to ramble so Germany cuts him off, "no you need this." Germany grabs Italy's hand and drags him out of the dressing room. After checking out, Germany had to drag the complaining Italian to the car so he wouldn't try to take the stuff back. "Feliciano, we have to go, quit fighting," Germany groaned frustratedly while still dragging Italy to the car. Germany finally got Italy in the car, and started driving to Rome, which was a 5 hour trip, so they would get there around 3. After the 5 hour drive, Germany and Italy arrive at Romano's house, and Italy is fast asleep in the passenger seat. "Feli?" Germany whispers putting a hand on Italy's shoulder trying to wake him. No answer. "Feliciano wake up, we're here." Germany whispers a little louder waking up the small Italian. "Mmm, where are we?" Italy asks still tired from the long ride. "your brother's house, so come on" germany states annoyed. italy opens the door and gets out of the car with germany following behind. "hey luddy?' italy whispers, but loud enough so germany can hear. "yes feli?" italy's tired voice always strikes a chord with germany, leaving his face pink and his heart soaring. "c-can you carry me? i'm tired" Italy holds his hands up like a child, signaling for germany to pick him up. Germany sighs and throws italy over his shoulder, "grazie luddy!" They make their way up to romano's house. When they walk in, it's a terrible moment. On the couch spain is sitting there with romano, in spain's hand is romano's curl. Romano is squirming. "Uh fratello" italy says confused on the situation. "Oh, fratello you're here already? Um i can explain" romano tries to stutter out because when germany and italy walked in, spain's hand froze on the curl,"stupid bastard, get your hand off of me!" Romano yells waking spain up from his embarrassed trance. "No it's okay fratello, no need to explain" italy teases his brother. "Whatever feli, you act like you're so innocent" this comment flustered germany, thinking of italy like that wasn't okay in this situation, but he couldn't help it. "I never said i was innocent." "But you sure do act like it, with the 'germany oh germany save me! Save me!'" Romano mocked his little brother. "Romano stop" italy replies quietly. "Stop? Stop what? You act like you're so sweet, but you're not. You may be weak, but not fucking innocent." That sent italy over the edge. Him and his brother's fights normally are fine, but bringing up an insecurity, that was too far. "F-fratello," italy tried to fight back but the tears were becoming too much to handle, and were showing no signs of stopping. Italy tried to run, but was stopped by germany's hand grabbing the back of his jacket. Italy jerked away, ran upstairs to his old room, and into the bathroom. He looks in the mirror, touching his face. "Weak, why am i so weak?" He asked as if his reflection would answer. "Fratello is right." He sighed and stood on the scale and sighed again. "Why am i so fat? Why does germany even love me i-i'm me." Italy couldn't take it anymore, he slid down the wall and his hands started to shake. "I- i- i can't take it anymore." He whispered. He reached up to the top of the counter and picked up the tooth brush holder, under it was a razor. He looks down at his wrists, stomach, and his thighs debating where to make the first cut. He instead stands up and looks in the mirror. "I- i can't-" he sniffles and closes his eyes remembering the last time he hurt himself like this.

Italy sits in his room holding a black hat, crying. This hat belonged to one of the only people he ever loved, Holy Roman Empire. Today, almost 100 years ago, he got a letter in the mail saying his beloved has fallen. "I shouldn't have let you left, this is all my fault." Italy's hands start shaking and he takes a deep breath. "Maybe this will help," he reaches for his sewing scissors in his bedside table. He stands up and looks in the mirror pulling up his shirt., scratching on the surface of his skin. "This isn't working." His tears fell harder. He looked around his room for something sharper, where was it? The knife he hid in his room incase someone breaks in, wait! There it was, under his drawer. He puts the knife up to the side of his stomach.

Italy sits looking in the mirror, "worthless," he whispers. He puts the razor up to his side and takes a deep breath. "Maybe this is it." He whispers glaring at his reflection. His hands hesitates as he thinks of the consequences. What about his brother, austria, hungary. What if holy rome isn't dead. What would germany think... he would be fine. They would all be okay with it. Romano could take care of the country, austria could focus more on his music, hungary could stop worrying about him, japan could relax, and germany. Maybe germany could have won the wars with out him. Maybe germany could be more relaxed without him. Maybe germany would have more friends without him. Maybe germany wouldn't be as stressed without him. Maybe germany wouldn't always be annoyed without... him. But, germany would be devastated, he can see him kneeling on the floor next to him, clutching on to his lifeless body, crying into his chest. "God damnit!just do it! Weak" he yells to himself. He makes on slice across his hip, watching the blood soak into the waistline of his pants. He takes a deep breath, and cuts again, and again. He then rolls up his sleeves and cuts into each wrist three times. He takes off his shirt and pants leaving him in his boxers. He then cuts three times in each thigh. He watches the blood drip down his small frame. Downstairs, while this is happening, germany, romano, and spain are arguing. "This is all your fault you stupid potato bastard!" Romano yells at germany. "My fault? My fault, you really think this was my fault. You're the one who called him weak! He's insecure, maybe you would know that if you were actually there for him!" Germany argued back. "It's not my fault that damn idiot austria gave me to this stupid tomato bastard." "Romano do you-" "shut up stupid!" "Guys, what about italy?" Germany says getting up and running upstairs. "Feli! Feli are you okay?" All germany could think about was it would be his fault if he was dead. "Feliciano vargas, please be okay." He hears a thud on the ground. "Italia? Please gott please let him be okay!" He slams italy's door open, and on the floor, italy lies unconscious and barely breathing. "Oh mein gott feli! No- no no please be alive." Germany kneels down next to italy and scoops him up into his arms. "Feliciano Vargas, if you can hear me please say something, please. I need to hear your voice" Germany cried. "Ti- ti amo lud" Italy coughed, "ti amo Ludwig beilschmidt, ti amo" another cough. "One more things" he reaches his hand up and touches germany's face, "if holy time comes back, tell- tell him I love him." Germany's tears grew stronger, "y-you just did" he says. "W-wait y-you're-" "yes italia, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner," "h-holy Rome I- I-" and with that Italy took his last breath and falls limp into the love of his life's arms. Germany's cries turned into loud sobs, "I-Italy! Oh Italy, if you can hear me please wake up! Please be alive, it-it-" Germany's head falls into his hands letting the sobs take over his body. He is gone. The love of his life... Gone. "Life is so precious, and- and you- god damnit! Italy why? Why did you do this... I-I need you! Don't you understand! Fuck God no. Feliciano please come back!" He stops, looks down at Italy, and strokes his hair lingering on the curl "please" he whispers. He leans down more resting his head on Italy's chest, letting the tears soak through his lover's shirt, "wait wha-" he hears a heart beating. "A- oh my god, a pulse! Feliciano, come on push through!" Germany knew he was getting his hopes up. "Please wake up, I'll be less harsh on you during training, I'll give anything you want, come on dammit Italy! How do i say this! I don't know oh god, i- I'll make you... Feel better? I'll make you pasta just please wake up!" With that he hears a big breath, he looks down, and it's Italy, he's breathing. Italy's eyes flutter open, and Germany smiles, actually showing his teeth. "Did- did someone say pasta?" He whimpers out. "Oh my- Italy, of course that would work." Germany scoops italy back up in his arms, "ich liebe dich, italien, ich liebe dich." Germany says repeatedly kissing italy's forehead. "Ti amo, germania, ti amo!" Italy looked up so when germany came down to kiss italy's forehead, he instead kissed his lips. The kiss was passionate, sweet, but short. Cut off by romano and spain running into the room, over joyed to see the italian alive. With italy in his arms and the other two nations at his sides, germany smiles, promising never to leave his love's side.