Through a Field of Flowers (Hetalia GerIta)

The war had been hitting Italy hard.

No matter what he said to his citizens, they would not stop leaving.

He knew he was dying.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he was gone.

The pain inside of him was too terrible to bear, and he knew it would last a long time before it killed him. He wanted it to be over with already.

No one was there to comfort him in any way, so all he did was lie in bed all day, suffering through mild heart attacks and terrible seizures. Why wasn't he in a hospital? Because they wouldn't do anything to help. Because the war was too terrible. Money was of no use anymore.

Where was Germany when he needed him?

On the rare occasions when he finally was able to calm down his body for an hour or two to sleep, he had restless dreams about his childhood lover, who had died in war many years ago.

Holy Roman Empire.

Italy needed to be with him. There was a hole in his heart that Holy Roman Empire had left when he had gone off to his doom. He believed it would never go away.

It was September 21st when Italy finally gathered enough courage to stand up and take a rope from the attic. Slowly, he fastened the rope on the rafters and put the stool in position.

Italy tied a handkerchief around his neck and smiled into an old mirror. For a minute, all he could see was Chibitalia, the younger version of himself, as he watched his lover walk off to war, his cape blowing through the wind, and the sweet taste of nectar still of his lips.

“I’m coming, Holy Rome,” He whispered to no one, and stepped onto the ladder.

For the first time in fifty years, he was smiling.

~*~*~*~

“Italy?” A gruff voice called into the eerily empty house, “Italy!”

Silence greeted the tall, German man as he stepped inside. Something was wrong.

“Feli?!” cried the man, using Italy’s human name as he ran upstairs. Germany, or Ludwig, sped through the second story of the house like a rocket. Italy was nowhere to be found.

Ludwig had just come back from winning the third world war, this time he was on the Allies. They were fighting against Russia and a few minor countries, whom were bombing everyone left and right for world domination. That nuclear war everyone had been whispering about only a few decades ago had been upon them.

But it was finished now.

So now he was trying to find Italy, who had been missing for several weeks.

Italy had been hit one of the hardest, due to the other countries jealousy towards his culture.

And military.

You heard me right. Way after the second world war, Italy started working harder on getting his military just as stout as Germany’s. It took a lot of work, but soon Italy had one of the biggest military operations in the world.

He was only second to Russia. 

“DAMMIT!” Ludwig yelled in frustration. Where was that stupid country?

Then it hit him.

The longing looks the smaller country would sometimes give him had gotten sadder, and more lonely during the war. When Italy became sick towards the end after the 'Rome bombings', Germany didn't have time to visit him, even though he knew he should have.

Long before then, during the time of peace in the early 2000s, Ludwig and Feliciano went on a date. 

During that date, when Feliciano touched him after a long string of embarrasing actions Ludwig had played through, an odd bunch of memories were thrown over to him.

Italy had been thinking about the old country, Holy Roman Empire. And then he became sick, and then he needed someone. And now he might be dead, all because Germany  was too stupid to realize it.

He cursed under his breath as he brought down the ladder to the attic. Scrambling up the rickety stairs, he muttered something unintelligible about 'damn pasta eaters and their romances' to try and cheer himself up.

But, when he saw him, all thoughts of humor went away.

Ludwig froze in his tracks, his eyes on the body next to the ladder, a white handkerchief tied around his head. Germany slipped and fell onto his knees as he tried getting to the country in the cluttered attic.

“Italy…” he murmured under his breath as he took the dead country in his arms.

His face is so peaceful, the German thought sadly. Tears trickled down his cheek for the first time in years and dropped onto Feliciano’s.

That’s when Italy stirred.

Germany’s eyes widened, “Italy? Italy?"

He yelled into his former comrades ear, “VAKE UP DAMMIT! YOU CAN’T BE DEAD! I’D KILL YOU IF YOU VERE DEAD!”

Italy coughed and his eyes opened, “H-Holy Rome? Am I finally dead?” He smiled sadly, “Good. I’m so glad it’s over.”

“Damn you, idiot, you’re not dead," Germany  growled. "Now get up so I can take you to zhe hospital."

“W-wha?” Italy muttered, “but I-," He glanced over to the rope hanging above him, "I thought I killed myself… I saw Holy Rome, he took my hand and we ran,” He paused, smiling, “We ran through a field of flowers. He gave me a flower and kissed my cheek, as if he'd never left.”

Germany sighed through his teeth and picked Italy up, throwing him over his shoulder, and walked cautiously down to Feliciano’s living room, setting him down on a sofa.

Ludwig picked up the closest phone and dialed 911, still watching the country who was crying silently, the scars on his face stood out more in the dying light of sunset.

“Hello? 911, what is your emergency?”

Germany jerked at the voice at the other end of the call and answered them hurriedly.

Ludwig put the receiver down and sat on the couch next to Feliciano, who stared at him silently.

“You should’ve let me die Germany,” the small country murmured, “I’m about to die anyway, why prolong the inevitable? Germany? Why are you so close? Germany-"

He was cut off by Germany, who had raised Italy’s head to his, and kissed him gently on the lips.

When they pulled apart, Germany could here the sirens that were coming closer, “Don’t you dare say zhat again you idiot.” He grabbed Italy’s hand, “I vill help you. You vill get better. Zhat bastard Russia will pay for what he’s done to you.”

Amber met blue as they looked into each others eyes. Italy nodded slowly, “O-okay Germany…”

“Ich liebe dich Feliciano,” Ludwig rested his forehead on Italy’s.

“T-ti amo, Ludwig,” was the stuttered reply.

Italy never forgot about the Holy Roman Empire, but there was a tiny suspicion left in the dark corners of his brain.

What if...

What if Germany, was his lost lover?