I only got about three hours of sleep, but I've been dancing and it's been fun but just now I got this great idea! I was reading up- you'd be surprised how much they don't teach you in school, probably mostly because they can't teach you everything- and read about Nazi experimentation on ethnic Poles (and others, but a whole bunch of them were Poles) and got this idea. So, enjoy!

Warning: Might be a little disturbing....

I don't own Hetalia! end /AN/

Italy had been searching throught the whole house, unable to find Germany. He'd looked in the bedrooms and the kitchen, as well as the pantry. He'd even looked in the closets and on the roof!

Which only left one room, or else Germany wasn't home. Italy looked up tentatively at the warning sign on the door. Germany had told him very expressly not to go in this room, and he'd learned that often when Germany forbid him from seeing things it was usually something he wouldn't want to see in a million years, like Germany's strange dvds. Those had been so icky...

But now, he swallowed as he made up his mind. It wasn't like whatever was behind this door could be much worse than those dvds, right? If he saw something nasty, he would just close his eyes.

His fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the doorknob, slowly twisting the heavy handle. The door took a little bit of pushing to open, since it was an old, heavy door, and it ground open to show Italy a flight of badly painted wooden stairs. So this was the basement...

He experimentally placed his foot on the top step, wincing at the loud creak. It was shadowy and spooky down there, and it smelled of something rotting. He couldn't entirely pin down the smell, however, and so continued down, hoping there would be another light bulb to turn on at the bottom.

He nearly slipped on the sawdust on the bottom of the stairs, and discovered there was a lot of the stuff all over the floor at the bottom. Maybe that was where the weird smell came from.

He continued on, looking for a light switch of some sort. "Germany? Hello~? Are you down here? I'm sorry I came down even though you told me not to...." There was a weird, thick silence hanging in the air. He gulped, feeling like his throat was getting coated with the sawdust on the floor. It was so creepy down here....

He jumped as he heard what sounded like someone whispering. Italy immediately responded by looking around frantically and apologising. "Hello?! Hello?! I'm sorry! Who's there?!"

His ears strained for any more whispering, and he finally heard what the whisperer was saying.

"Ojcze nasz, którys jest w Niebie, swiec sie Imie Twoje, przyjdz Królestwo Twoje, badz wola Twoja...." Wait just a second... That was Polish! He immediately scrambled in the direction of the sound. "Poland? Poland, is that you?"

He felt along the wall, getting no response from the whisperer, and found a light switch. Finally. Now he would actually be able to see what was going on...

The second the light flipped on, Italy felt his heart do a flip-flop. This was no regular basement. It was full of what appeared to be medicine and scientific equipment, most of which Italy could not even guess the function of. He shuddered, and then his eyes landed on the figure in the corner.

He froze. It was Poland, but he sincerely hoped he was somehow mistaken. The Pole was hunched up, backed into the corner as far as he could go, his head pressed against his knees. Italy felt like his breath had run away from the horrible sight, leaving him speechless. He'd known Germany had conquered Poland, but he'd never thought... that Germany was so cruel....

He'd given Italy a normal cell when he'd captured him before, and gave him food and a blanket and all that stuff. Surely, this wasn't Germany's doing...

His train of thought was interrupted by Poland, who had lifted his head, showing that he was wearing a blindfold of some sort. He'd stopped saying whatever it was he had been saying, and now seemed to be on edge, listening carefully. Italy immediately ran over, putting his hands on Poland's shoulders.

"Poland, it's me, Italy! What are you doing down here?" Poland flinched at his touch, shrinking away. Italy thrust his fingers under the blindfold, easily ripping it off. His friend made a strange noise, looking around and squinting, evidently not used to the light. He stared at Italy without a spark of recognition in his eyes, seeming torn between fear and relief.

"Poland, what happened to you?" Italy stared, somewhat horrified to see how pale and sickly Poland looked. Also, he was sporting a huge motley bruise on half his face, like he'd slammed it into something hard like a wall. Poland finally spoke, in a shaky and parched voice.

"Italy?" His eyes started to flood as he seemed to return to reality. Italy put an arm around Poland, and tried to pull him into a hug, but discovered that wasn't quite possible- Poland was chained to the wall. So naturally, he scooted into an awkward hug, and Poland leaned into his shoulder, crying silently.

Loud footsteps coming down the stairs interrupted the relative quiet, causing Poland to tense up. Italy turned to see Germany coming over, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. "Italy! I told you not to come down here!" He seemed strangely afraid, despite thundering at Italy.

Italy looked back, huge puppydog eyes enough to overcome even Switzerland. "Germany, I couldn't find you anywhere, so I came down here, but I found Poland! Someone chained him up down here in your basement!" Something- probably cold logic- in the back of Italy's mind tried to tell him that Germany knew, Germany was the one who'd done it, but he couldn't believe his best friend would do something like this, he just couldn't bring himself to...

Germany hesitated to answer. He finally seemed to come up with something. "Yes... I guess so... Why don't you go upstairs while I handle this? You really shouldn't be down here." Italy nodded, glad Germany knew what to do. He started to stand up, only to have Poland whimper and get a grip on his sleeve despite the short chains.

"Please... Please don't leave me, not with him, please-" he was starting to get choked up, and the hoarseness of his voice was quite apparent. Germany immediately cut in, a grim expression on his face. "It's okay, Italy. I'll handle it." He swiftly and forcefully made Poland release Italy's sleeve.

Poland whimpered again and started to cry, this time with sound, obviously terrified of the German. Italy looked torn between obeying Germany and helping his friend. "But Germany-" The taller man turned on the Italian, practically roaring at him. "I SAID LEAVE! WHAT PART OF THAT DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!"

Italy turned pale and ran for the stairs, starting to cry, just like Poland. When had Germany started acting this way?! He'd always been gruff, but why was he suddenly acting like such a... a.... Italy didn't want to use the word 'monster' to describe his best friend, but it was all he could think of at the moment.

He threw himself into the couch, covering his ears with his hands because he could still hear Poland- one of his other best friends, who he'd just left alone with his almost-monster of a best friend. What kind of a friend did that?! He wanted to go back, he wanted to protest against it, but the pure anger- not irritation like normal- Germany had exuded had easily sapped all willpower to do so out of him.

Why? Why would Germany do this? Italy found himself sobbing. Germany couldn't be evil, he just couldn't....

/AN/ Okay, I figured that since Italy and Poland are good friends, it would be interesting to see what Italy would think if he found out what Germany was doing to Poland. I don't know how much Italy knew in real life of what the Germans were up to, but I think Italy in Hetalia would have a really hard time coming to terms with the idea that his friend is a monster who was torturing his other friends.