Secrets and lies. (Hetaoni and 2p fanfic)

Chapter 25

Romano POV

The nations were all in various stages of shock. Germany was perched by the bed, seemingly saying his last goodbyes, tears streaming down his face as he whispered all the things he didn't  say. I turned away from the heartbreaking scene. I might have known that Venize was not gone permanently but the others didn't. It didn't make his absence hurt any less. Was this how he felt when he was in that Mansion?? Hopeless?? Alone??  I brushed away a stray tear and walked away from the bed. I walked over to the door with the plan of just staring at the smooth wood cursing out everything that I could think of when I tripped over my feet. I landed heavily on my right wrist. Ow. That fucking hurt.

I gritted my teeth at the throbbing pain and pushed myself up into a kneeling position. Something red caught the corner of my eye.  I glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention. They weren't. The nations were too caught up in their grief to notice what I was doing. The thought made me frown but at the moment I was grateful for it. If they weren't paying attention now, then by the time I figure out what that red thing was, then this nightmare might be one small step to being just that. A nightmare. 

I schooched my way over to the dresser, don't as why it was near the door. The Burger Bastard has no sense whatsoever of interior decorating. "And you do?"  a little voice chimed.

 I grumbled a soft "shut up"  as I gently pulled the red thing from its little niche. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. A little red hard covered book rested in my hand. What the fuck was this doing under a dresser?? It did not have any title on the front or other distinguishing marks other than what looked like blood splatters.  After another quick glance around, I gently opened the book. There was a single name written under the Property of line on the very first page. Tears burned my eyes as I gazed at the familiar calligraphy. 

Feliciano  Veneziano Vargas, Northern Italia 

Now, back to the most important part of this whole fiasco. WHY WAS MI FRATELLO'S JOURNAL/DIARY THINGY UNDER BURGER BASTARD'S DRESSER?!?!?!   

It wasn't like I could ask Venezie anyway.  Fratellino stupida. He just had to get himself killed didn't he? Next time I see him alive I'm gonna punch him for being a fucking moron. Also, who in their right mind wanders away from the group when there are nation eating spawn from Hell running around only God knows where?! Apparently Italy does. That mansion wasn't good for him in the slightest. Because of that place, he now has a stupid ( and very very bad) habit of non existent self preservation and bullheadedness that could possibly rival mine. I snorted as the thought entered my mind.  

I don't know why I found that funny. It really wasn't. "But it really is," my mind giggled. "After all, he fucking grew a pair now." With that my brief good mood vanished. "What really happened to him to make him change so drastically?"  I thought back to when he explained how he watched everyone brutally murdered, over and over again. "Just seeing someone killed once is enough to change anyone's personality.  Seeing it multiple times, each time possibly more gruesome than the last? No wonder he grew a pair. He had no choice." 

I looked down at that little red journal that has my brother's name written inside. Maybe this will tell me a little about what the fuck is going on here. I opened to the first page and started to read. With the turn of each page, my horror grew. There were parts that my fratello left out when he told us and for good reason too. The things  that he wrote were so  detailed that it left nothing to the imagination, painting a picture so vivid that I wanted to vomit. 

I looked up at my fratello, so pale and still, and closed the book, tucking it close to my chest protectively. "I'm sorry fratello. I am so, so sorry that you suffered alone." I whispered, knowing he couldn't hear me. "I wish I could tell you this, but you are the bravest person I have ever met. I will never leave your side, especially when you need me the most. I will finish this round how we had planned, for you. I am sorry for not listening to you. Maybe if I did, you will be here right now."

A slow, feral grin stretched across my face as an idea popped into my mind. This is going to be fun...