Until The End (GerIta)

The pain seemed to delay as Germany searched for his fallen friend. Germany hadn’t even been watching Italy when he heard the sharp cry and the amber head falling out of his view. Now Germany hadn’t the slightest clue of whether his friend was safe or in danger, injured or healthy, alive or dead, and he couldn’t stand it. Germany had searched for hours on end, helped by a couple other nations who now stood off to the side, given up hope. Germany couldn’t give up. He would die before accepting that his friend was gone for good. He wanted so badly to walk by and simply see the excited nation whimpering off to the side, completely safe and uninjured, but the years of experience in war had taught Germany to expect the worst. As much as Germany wanted to make himself believe that Italy was alright, he was unable to convince himself in case his hopes were shot down. Germany grimaced at the unintended pun.

Germany, the country, had been overrun by the allies and was slowly becoming a piece of America, of all countries. This made Germany, the persona, prone to human weapons. He had taken three shots to the chest and could actually feel his life force force training out along with the blood…. But he had to find Italy. As badly as Germany was hurt, there was a nagging feeling that Italy was doing worse.

<<<->>>

Italy couldn’t move. The ally’s armies had gone in to take control of his country, not actually wanting to take Italy from him, but the citizens had rebelled. Italy felt every innocent or soldier dying as if it was another gunshot to his own body. He felt every unstoppable fire like it burnt his own chest, flames licking up his small body. Every cut down forest like a knife, stabbing and twisting through his flesh. Every destroyed building created a pinprick in his limbs, but when so many pins pricked Italy at once, it was almost like a body part falling asleep multiplied by a thousand. Everything going on in his country had taken a toll on his body, but the usually wimpy nation was able to ignore it all when the rest came. Italy himself had been shot in the back (he thought it was the spine) while making up chants to support Germany on the battlefield. The physical pain, was like nothing Italy had felt before. It was both more and less than what he experienced when something happened to his country. At first, the pain had sent Italy tumbling to the ground, sharp and strong. It bore into his mind and Italy was unable to accomplish any actual thought, there was only pain. All Italy could do was cry out as he fell face-first to the ground. Now, all Italy saw was the brown of the once green field’s ground, his cheek and most of his face pressed into the wet mud. There was no doubt in Italy’s mind that he would die, but this didn’t worry him too much, just as long as he could see Germany first. Along with the bullet lodged in his back, Italy had fallen on something sharp. The pain was nearly as bad as that from the bullet, but it only lasted a moment before everything thankfully dulled.Now, unable to move so much as his fingers, all Italy could do was wait for his ally, and wait he would.

<<<->>>

Germany had scoured the hundreds of bodies strenuously for nearly three hours, but he felt himself continuously growing weaker. Based on the excessive blood loss, and growing instability, Germany didn’t think he could possibly have more than thirty minutes left. He gazed back to the side of the field, where England, America, Russia, Canada, and China stood, but still didn’t glimpse that one face. Germany would have liked to see Prussia before he died, as his older brother was so important to him, but that seemed like it would never happen. He looked back down at the dozens of bodies littering the ground, still no sign of Italy…

Finally, fifteen minutes later, Germany spotted a familiar curl on the side of an amber head of hair. That was Italy. It had to be. The boy was lying face down and motionless. There was an ample puddle of blood that still grew underneath his stomach, and a visible hole cutting through the uniform over his spine, high in the very center of his back.