Enjoy this one-shot. This is a Songfic-One-shot based off of Hetalia and Natalie Merchant's "Skin". Enjoy. it's a little dark.. but please bear with me. WARNING: THERE IS DEPRESSING CONTENT AND THERE IS CUTTING INVOLVED.
Italy was stuck. It wasn't his typical "I've fallen and can't get up" or inability to get Germany to do what he wanted. No, this was something much more serious than that. Italy was stuck. Over the years, they grew very close. So close, in fact, that he hoped.
Damn, did he hope.
It was for this very reason that Italy was stuck. Germany treated Italy like something precious. However, the problem with that lies in that very statement. Precious was all Italy ever wanted to be to Germany, but, countries be damned, Italy wasn't as foolish as they made him out to be. Rather, he was well aware how Germany saw him.
Friend. Precious friend.
And how he hated it. He wanted to be everything that they seemed. Perhaps in love. Perhaps treasuring each other. Perhaps monopolizing the other's mind. But they weren't, and he hated it.
Of course, Germany is ever oblivious, contrary to how he might seem, and did not understand Italy whatsoever. He passed off his behavior as being clingy to someone who could protect him.
Please.
Italy wasn't defenseless. He simply didn't like dealing with responsibility, something that came along with being independent. So, Italy depended on Germany. What hurt the most, though, was that Italy was one of his only friends, so he was treated with so much care that he hated himself.
I love you Germany.
There was a fateful day in which Italy woke up next to Germany, as per usual. At first, it appeared to be like any other day to the two countries. Italy proceeded to go through his morning routine of brushing Germany's hair away so he could look at Germany's sleeping face. And, as per usual, Germany woke up to his ministrations and stared at Italy's face with an unreadable expression. And, as part of their routine, Italy felt a pang of self hatred for himself and pining for the man before him.
Germany, I love you. Can you accept me for who I am?
Take a look at my body,
Look at my hands,
Then, as always, Germany woke up and abruptly jumped out of bed. "Italy, you need to stop sneaking into my bed! It's not proper protocol, and I need my personal space." Then, he proceeded to ignore Italy as he moved to his closet to change. Italy buried his face in his pillow he carried to Germany's room and cringed.
Am I not good enough? Why do you push me away?
There's so much here that I don't understand.
And again, as always, Italy fled back to his room and sobbed in his own bed, alone. He felt so cold. However, it never seemed to faze Germany, and he heard him moving around the house, getting ready for training. He sobbed even louder at Germany's lack of love for Italy.
Why do reject me so much? Am I that repelling to you?
After crying his heart out, Italy threw on his uniform and closed his eyes, sealing his mask tightly into a careless facade. As Italy went outside, he noticed that, as always, Japan was there on time, waiting in the same old spot for Italy to line up with him. However, Germany never let him off the hook for things like this, so, of course, Germany stomped up to Italy angrily. At this point, Italy had memorized everything that Germany would say before he would get around to saying it. However, he couldn't escape the lecture he was doomed to endure, so he froze his smile in place and waited for Germany to go through his speech about not being late. Germany certainly didn't disappoint on that front. Even so, Italy felt a shred of shame as he realized that, even this, he loved about Germany. It was bittersweet, and his heart throbbed painfully.
Germany, why can't you see how much your hurting me?
Your face-saving promises,
whispered like prayers
His lecture seemed to drag on, and Italy's smile felt heavier and heavier on his face. However, apparently, his face didn't show how he felt, and Germany quickly wrapped his lecture up and moved to command the group for their training regimen.
I can't take this anymore.
I don't need them, no I don't need them.
And, as always, even though Italy felt like he was breaking, he took a quiet, deep breath, and rejoined the group once more for training. It seemed like nothing Italy felt was detectable, and somehow, that hurt even more than before as the days went on, repeating this pattern of Germany being oblivious and Italy bottling himself up painfully.
Why is it so easy to hide my heart from you? Why can't you see ME!
Because I've been treated so wrong,
On schedule, Italy escaped from training to Germany's kitchen to make his lovely pasta. However, just as he started to boil the water and put the noodles in, Germany grabbed Italy and told him, "No pasta. You need to get used to eating war rations." He then turned off the stove and shoved Italy out the door into the blazing heat of summer. "But Germany," he begged, "can't you be merciful just this once? I don't feel well and I need comfort food." He wasn't lying, the stress of worrying about his love for Germany might've given him an ulcer, even if he was a country. The stress had been making him feel sick, and he just needed a break. However, Germany refused to budge and said, "You need to build up some strength and learn how to deal with the pain." If only Germany knew.
I don't understand why you are so cold.
I've been treated so long,
It didn't end there. Germany refused to relent in all aspects. When Italy needed a break, Germany kept pushing him. He wasn't allowed to take a break, nap, or make pasta. Italy felt the stress building up more and more. Somehow, the already tight tension kept pulling and pulling, and Italy didn't know how long he could keep it up.
Please, Germany. Don't take away everything I love. You've even taken yourself away from me...
As if I'm becoming untouchable.
Do you seriously hate me that much? Would you care... if I were gone?
After days of Germany's relentless, cold behavior, Italy started to feel heavy, tired, and sick all day. He needed to break from this depressing mood, so he decided to sleep in his own room. After all, that was typically the first thing that set Germany off, so maybe if he avoided that, the days would get easier? With that in mind, he slept in his own room and woke up alone and cold early the next morning.
If you don't care, I'd rather spend my day in the humble darkness of my room.
Well content love the silence,
Italy drowsily got up and mechanically put on his training clothes.
I feel like disappearing...
it thrives in the dark,
He felt so tired, but he pushed himself to leave his room. He couldn't stay cooped up, or his thoughts would consume him.
I am in so much pain Germany... Luddy... Can't you give me a little happiness?
with fine-winding tendrils that strangle the heart.
He stepped outside and took in a huge breath and let it all out in hopes of calming himself down.
I'm going to do it. Just you wait Luddy... I need to escape this pain. Maybe now you'll love me?
Italy stretched and warmed up his muscles in silent darkness preceding dawn. However, he didn't waste much time and went out to follow the path that the group followed for training. Halfway though, Italy stubbed his foot on a rock in the path and fell down on his face. He didn't find the energy to stand or observe the damage for a long while, but eventually, he pushed himself off of his dirty face and noticed a cold wetness on his cheek. He was crying. He didn't mean to, but it must've started while he was laying there in pain. Then he noticed his bleeding knee. Somehow, that made him cry a little more.
Where are you now that I need you? Didn't you promise to 'protect me' my friend?
They say that promises sweeten the blow,
but I don't need them.
Wow, I guess this says a lot. Italy stood up and his knee quickly healed due to his immortal state of being. He wiped his tears off and finished his run back to the house.
No I don't need them.
As soon as Italy finished his run and stopped before the front door, Germany walked outside to start his training regimen. The face Germany gave was very unreadable, and it was in that moment that Italy could read that confounding expression once and for all. He didn't care.
You...don't care...do you?
Germany then walked up to Italy and congratulated him on trying harder to be a better ally. Ally? What the fuck? Suddenly, all of Italy's depression hit him hard, and he suddenly felt that everything was useless.
No, you don't care.
Germany departed onto his running route and Italy ran inside to sob in his room. Why did he even try? It never amounted to anything, do why did he even get out of bed? He retreated to the bathroom to wash up and felt like utter trash. He showered in scathingly hot water, but he still didn't feel anything. he felt numb. He felt cold. He felt empty. Was he truly empty? Did he even matter? Germany didn't love him, so he couldn't matter. All the dark, self-depreciating thoughts clouded his mind and he shut off the water. The droplets hit the floor, and he felt his mind go blank for a blissful minute. However, he continued his robotic routine, and moved to shave his face. After he finished shaving his face, he stared at his reflection. It did a good job at doing what it was designed to do. He looked just as dead as he felt. He peeled his eyes away from the mirror and stared at the razor on the counter.
It wouldn't do anything, but suddenly, it all didn't matter. He didn't really know what drove him to pick it up and bring it to his arm, but he did. He hesitated and stared at his pale olive arm before he decided it really didn't matter after all. That ended his hesitation, and he drew his first cut into his arm. Somehow, he felt alive in that very moment. The pain, the dropping of blood into the sink, the silence of his mind, it all kept him from stopping.
If you don't care...
I've been treated so wrong,
And this continued for days and weeks without Germany's knowledge. Italy was good at faking, and Germany was dense, so they evaded the issue festering in Italy's heart. It was becoming a problem for the country, but somewhere deep down, he knew he couldn't die because he was a country, so why did it matter? In a way, it made him feel like he wasn't empty, seeing the red spilling from sickly brown. So he continued, continued, and continued.
I've been treated so long,
As if I'm becoming untouchable.
From that first day he cut, he stopped being clingy to Germany. Somehow, it made the ache in his heart less noticeable to instead feel the stinging sensation on his arm. He never stopped feeling love for Germany, but he felt distant from it all, not just Germany, but everything.
Italy continued...
I'm the slow dying flower.
and continued...
I'm the frost killing hour,
And Germany never cared or noticed...
the sweet turning sour and untouchable.
I'm all alone aren't I? If I can do all this, feel all this, think all of this, and nobody notice, then I guess I am all alone.
Oh, I need the darkness,
On...
the sweetness,
and...
the sadness,
on...
the weakness,
He never noticed anything different with Italy.
oh, I need this.
Ludwig was laying next to him when Italy woke up one morning. The drowsiness of his depression and the morning made him give a droopy smile to the illusion.
Luddy? Do you care?
I need a lullaby,
He brushed the hairs out of Italy's face. Italy pressed his cheek into Ludwig's lingering hand. The warmth seeped into his cheek and he lidded his eyes in contentment.
Do you love me too?
a kiss goodnight,
His torturous illusion of his love kissed his forehead lovingly.
Luddy...
an angel-sweet love of my life.
Then Italy woke up and all he felt was cold loneliness.
Huh?
Oh, i need this.
I hate my dreams...
Italy screamed at himself in his head.
I hate myself...
In another wave of self-hatred, Italy etched more lines to the endless, pre-existing ones.
I'm the slow dying flower,
Soon the lines and scratches became gashes. The lines stopped being distinct and started to blur together in their endless numbers. He cried and cursed his fate as an immortal country.
the frost killing hour,
I hate myself... I should just disappear...
the sweet turning sour and untouchable.
I'm so alone...
Do you remember the way that you touched me before;
He reminisced on the days that Germany had no idea that he slept in his bed and the tender moments they shared as the best of friends. Pain swarmed his heart after the beautiful memories overwhelmed him and he knelt over against the counter in the bathroom.
all the trembling sweetness I loved and adored.
Why did you push me away suddenly?
Again, Italy tried to bring himself to practice and walked downstairs. However,
Your face saving promises,
Germany sat on the couch waiting for him. Italy most certainly was a fool, because he let a small flame of hope light inside himself.
Will something finally change?
Germany smiled gently at Italy, which warmed his heart, but broke the feeling when he said, "Italy, don't think your efforts have gone unnoticed." Italy just looked down from the middle of the staircase at Germany, still lounging on the couch with that smile on his face. He was so confused. Then, it hit him.
No, no, no!
"Good job in training. You're really shaping up out there Feli."
And he had to use my damned name. Why?! WHY?!
Everything felt raw, like it was too much, and it made him tremble in frustration, anger, sadness, and hopelessness.
whispered like prayers.
Italy screamed and ran out of the house, tears streaming down his face. His heart felt crushed under the weight of Germany's words. He thought he was doing well, better in fact. It hurt so much, he couldn't stand it. Germany didn't know, and that hurt him, but to think he was doing better was too much.
I don't need them.
Why don't you see how much your words hurt me?!
Italy ran and ran until he was deep in the forest. He ran until his lungs burned with lack of oxygen and his throat hurt from over-extension. His legs burned with the sudden activity. He couldn't bring himself to care. He curled up into a ball under a tree and sobbed until he passed out.
I need the darkness,
He didn't know how he made it home, but he thought he remembered the warmth of another person in his sleep.
the sweetness,
His fresh cuts he made in the forest burned against his arm.
the sadness,
He sobbed into his pillow, not caring how he made it back to his room.
the weakness.
I can't take this anymore Germany...
Oh, I need this.
Italy woke once more with Germany in bed with that same, teasingly loving look on his face. He wanted to fall for the illusion, to think it was real, but he stayed tense and wouldn't fall for it again. He knew how much it hurt to accept the fake love, so he held back and tried to ignore it.
I need a lullaby,
However, the illusion kissed Italy's forehead and apologized for hurting him. The sweetness dripping off of fake Ludwig's voice and the love he saw in fake Ludwig's eyes was burning, and he couldn't take it. It hurt to much, and he felt as though he was going insane from disorientation, pining, and depression.
a kiss goodnight,
NO YOUR LYING! THIS IS A DREAM! A NIGHTMARE! I HATE MYSELF FOR DOING THIS TO MYSELF!
an angel-sweet love of my life.
Italy jumped out of the bed and dashed into the bathroom. He didn't care if this was reality or dream anymore, he just had to do something to end it. The torture was killing him.
He paused with that thought.
Killing himself would be a blessing. Unfortunately, he was immortal.
Oh, I need this.
I can't...
Well is it dark enough?
Italy pulled out his pocket knife and slashed into his arm violently.
I hate...
Can you see me?
Italy heard loud, harsh knocks, but he ignored them as well as he could. He continued to abuse his arm as much as he could.
I hate...
Do you want me?
Italy started to scream as loud as he could to block out all the outside noise and his own thoughts. His quiet conscience begged him to stop, but he refused. He needed to stop thinking. He needed to stick with his decision. He didn't even care if he was immortal. He could kill himself if he did enough damage, right?
I HATE MYSELF!
Can you reach me?
"FELICIANO!" Italy heard Germany scream.
Huh?
or I'm leaving.
The door broke down, punctuating Germany's shout.
"Feli," Germany softly whispered as he brought Italy into his arms and cradled him into his chest.
You don't care, don't touch me.
Then you better shut you mouth,
"Stop" Italy whispered quietly, as if he forgot he had a voice. Germany ignored his gently request and tightened his hold on Italy's frail body.
Your lying to me...you don't care!
and hold you breath,
"STOP!" Italy screamed and stabbed himself deeply in the side.
LIAR!
and kiss me now,
"No!" Germany shouted and pulled Italy away from his chest for a second to do some damage control. His hand lightly grazed the knife deeply embedded in Italy's side and swore, "Schiesse!"
and catch your death.
"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Germany managed to get out as he sobbed.
Oh, I mean this.
"Because...ha...you..don't care..?" Italy managed before the world closed in on him and he couldn't see anything but black.
Oh, I mean this.
Oh Germany, why did you push me away so much?
-A Day Later-
Time passed, and Italy survived the whole fiasco due to Germany calling the ambulance when Italy screamed in the bathroom. Germany was still in slight denial that Italy was even depressed, but the damage he did to himself didn't lie. He saw that, throughout the past year, he had done so much to himself. There were so many cuts on his arms, Germany puked from the thought that Italy did that to himself.
Why is he in so much pain?
Germany looked down once more at the sleeping figure in the hospital. His arms were littered in pink and white lines that looked painful even though some were already healed. Unfortunately, self-inflicted injuries scarred on countries until they were reborn. He was glad he saved Italy from having to be reborn as a child once more and kept him the same personification he is today, but he still couldn't save him from himself, and it hurt him to feel so useless.
Why has he hurt himself to this extent?
Germany gripped Italy's hand in a firm grip and started to cry. After a while, Germany lifted his other hand to cover his face. Why the hell was he crying? Italy was the one in pain. But somehow, he couldn't keep himself from releasing the tears from his eyes.
Feli, my love, why?
"Because you didn't care," Germany remembered Italy telling him.
But I DO care...
Germany suddenly felt Italy's hand grip his back, ripping him from his thoughts about the man.
"Italy!" Germany shouted. He could ask those questions later. Right now, he needed to focus on helping Feli recover.
Italy stirred to the feeling of a strong grip on his hand.
Why do I hear Luddy's voice? Aren't I dead? Or did I not succeed?
Italy felt very disoriented, but he had an idea of what happened after thinking for a second. Germany must've saved him, meaning now he had to explain himself.
Italy opened his eyes and felt blinded by the white lights for a moment.
"Ugh," Italy groaned in pain.
"Italy!" He heard a manly German accent shout, and suddenly, he was bear hugged.
Yep. Germany saved him from killing himself.
Italy forced his eyes open against his body's will and shoved Germany away a little.
"What?" Italy groaned, uncharacteristic of his bubbly personality he let on.
"Italy?" Germany questioned his response.
Italy looked up and stared at the man in question. His hair fell into his face and he looked absolutely exhausted.
"..." Italy just stared in silence and ignored the implied question. He felt guilty for the butterflies in his stomach he got from looking at Germany's ruffled appearance.
"Italy?" Germany tried once more.
He shook himself from those thoughts and released his jumbled thoughts out into a multitude of questions, "What are you doing here and why are we in a hospital and why am I not dead?" Italy gave Germany a small glare to add to his questions. He didn't hate the man, but he wasn't ready to deal with all this and felt bitter from the way he was treated before now.
"Feli," Germany whispered softly and brought Italy back into a hug.
Well this is different.
He sat frozen in Germany's embrace. What was he supposed to do? "Don't ever leave me alone, Feli. I love you." He took in a deep breath by Italy's ear and continued to repeat, "I love you, please believe me. I love you so much." He started to cry a little in the hairs by Italy's neck.
Italy was honestly shocked. Everything Germany did made him think he hated him for being a nuisance. "I thought you didn't care..." Italy couldn't help as he whispered his shock into words. He was tense and didn't know how to deal with this new situation. Everything Germany did pointed to him not seeing Italy in that way, so he really couldn't grasp what was going on.
Germany scoffed in self-hatred as he pulled Italy even closer, if that was even possible. "No, Italy. I know you may think this is hard to believe, because you've got it in your head that I don't care, but it's quite the opposite." He took in a deep breath as Italy gasped at this revelation. "I love you Feli. I always have, and even if you don't believe me, I love you, and I'll be by your side waiting for the day that you can trust me." He pulled back and stared at Italy's eyes. A small tear fell from his right eye, and Germany kissed the corner of his eye lovingly.
"Italy," he whispered. He waited for the man to lift his head, and he closed in. "This is how I feel, Feli." He whispered into the space between them and quickly brought his lips to Italy's. The kiss was quick, and certainly not heated, but there was a mild, affectionate feeling he got from it that made him realize that he was stupid. This whole situation was ridiculous, but it happened, and it made him feel really stupid. He felt stupid for being so depressed, but such feelings didn't go so easily. He still felt a twinge of irrational self-hatred and it was multiplied by his stupidity, but he wasn't about to call Germany a liar. He saw that, at least for now, Germany claimed to love him. That was enough. He still kind of couldn't believe it, but he would fall for it. He didn't have the strength to resist the warmth before him.
Luddy...
"Luddy," Italy sighed and grabbed the back of Germany's neck and kissed him back passionately. Germany quickly moved his hands to caress Italy's waist and Italy locked his arms around Germany's neck. He hissed as his arms stung from the sudden movement and friction against Germany's shirt.
Germany winced and chuckled a little in a bittersweet way. "Feli, there's no need to hurry. You need to recover first, so we'll stop training for a while. I think we would benefit from a few long talks about what's been going on, what we're thinking, and where we're going from here.
"Oh," Italy went quiet. He really didn't want to talk about he'd been feeling for the past year. Germany quickly saw his reaction and added, "Italy, I love you, and we can take it slow if you don't feel like talking soon." He then kissed him lovingly on the cheek. "It's fine Feli."
"Thank you Luddy. I appreciate that." He gave a weak smile knowing that recovery was going to be hard, but he could do it if Ludwig would be there with him.
He wasn't alone. Germany was with him, and that wouldn't change for now.
Italy let his smile be genuine for the first time in a long time, and Germany could not have asked for more.