Story Reminder
Oho, no one's reading anyway, so I'll put this here so I can mine the formatting from it later! By editing it! You know, go to edit post, it'll show all the nice bracket stuff... (Oh, reeeeaaaalll classy of you to use Germany's boxershot as the userpic for this post. Geeeeez...)
I found myself craving some cheap Germany/Italy, so I made some. It… didn’t turn out too bad, I think... even though the first and second parts seem like pasted-together sections of completely different fics. Also, I’m worried I may have made certain characters more or less serious than they really are… well, the fic itself kind of arbitrarily swings from moody to fluffy. I also had trouble figuring out how to end some segments, and you’ll probably be able to tell, since they drag on a bit. Well, I’ll let you be the judge regarding how good it really is. As usual, comments and criticism are very much appreciated.
Title:
Author/Artist: Me! (Sami-Fire)
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Germany, Italy, and Germany/Italy (pairing).
Rating: PG?
Warnings: Worksafe other than a brief reference to blood and violence and some minor throwaway curse words. It's also kinda long.
Summary: Germany has a dream that disturbs him. How does he end up coping with the sudden disturbance?
I'm standing on a battlefield.
The first thing I'm aware of is the chaos around me. Soldiers- presumably ones that should have been under my control- are running amok, shouting and shooting seemingly at random. The second thing I notice is the snow. It seems that my troops are already standing on a good few inches, and more is coming down by the second. It's not quite a blizzard, but it's definitely not just flurries, either. The flakes sting me as they land on me; it is bitterly cold out. The colors of everything seem washed out. There's only the white and gray of the snow and the deep green of soldier's uniforms. It's a very stark and inexplicably disturbing palette.
Needless to say, something hasn't gone according to orders. I immediately feel a pang of worry as I always do in these situations. These men are showing an astounding lack of discipline. If they don't stop this foolishness and follow the plans to the letter precisely as they were given, the problem will only get worse. I start giving orders: Resume formation! Cease fire! But they won't listen to me. Anxiety is beginning to pull at every part of me.
Suddenly, my mind is invaded by a terrible thought: Italy is in grave danger. No one has told me anything- I just know. Well, Italy landing himself in all kinds of trouble is nothing new, but this time, the feeling is distinctly different.
I take off in an undefined direction. The shouting of the mad soldiers is getting louder. I'm being shot at, but nothing is hitting me. Explosives go off, launching massive clusters of snow into the air. After a few minutes of just running, running, running... I finally find him.
He's collapsed onto his side. He's not even this still when he's sleeping. He rolls over to face me, showing me that he has stained quite a bit of snow with his blood. The deep, rich red contrasts sharply with all the drab colors I had seen up to this point. Normally, something like this is nothing to me, but this time I feel a little ill. His voice comes out sluggishly, as though he has to drag it out of his throat. It is feeble and languid- very much unlike the voice of the Italy I know.
"Germany... I..."
I am unable to say anything to him. I wait for him to continue, but I am met with only a protracted silence. I look down at him, then up into the sky and the snow. Something- a primal scream, a roar, something- wells up inside of me, a rage unlike anything I've ever felt before. I have failed my mission. Worse yet, I get a feeling that there was nothing I could do about it. I didn't even say goodbye to him. Before I even come close to fully processing what just happened, I feel an impact on the back of my head, and everything fades to darkness...
...Or not. It's more like everything fades to my ceiling. One of my dogs has jammed a foot into my side. I guess I should be thankful. Some dreams just shouldn't come to their "logical" conclusion. It must be very early in the morning, since the sun is nowhere to be found. I try to go to sleep, but that image won't stop following me: Italy lying dead in front of me, his blood on the snow...
Ugh. It's definitely not something I can sleep off. Tomorrow's going to be a rough day.
* * *
Later in the morning, I was staring into space over my coffee. I couldn't do anything else. My mind was slogging along at a snail's pace from having lost so much sleep. It was just one nightmare. Why did it affect me so much? I tried to shove it out of my mind. I would get to work right after my coffee. That's right- I just needed to focus on what I had to do. If I just stayed strong and didn't let a stupid dream get in the way, I'd be fine.
...
It wasn't even remotely that easy. I stayed slumped over my coffee, almost falling asleep where I sat. Damn, it didn't look like anything would get done today at this rate... That inability to do anything alone set my nerves on edge. Was this Italy's fault, or mine? I ended up with my head on the table, downed by the first throbbings of what I could tell was going to be a nasty headache.
Suddenly, I heard my door open, jolting me to my senses. While I expected what happened next, it still caught me off guard. Next thing I knew, Italy was zipping around me like a video on fast-forward. He sounded a little like one, too.
“Germany Germany Germany Germany Germany Germany Germany Germany Ger-”
After his fifteenth lap around my chair, I was able to grab him. “For the love of- Italy! I heard my name the first time!” I rested my increasingly achy head on my hands and tried my hardest to shut out Italy… and, as usual, failed. “Well, at least you remembered to put on clothes before you barged into my house. What do you want?”
“That’s it, Germany! I remembered to put on pants first! And then I actually remembered to put on the other clothes, too! Aren’t you proud of me?”
…Now what was I going to say to that? I just grunted a “Yeah, sure,” shoved him away, and put my head back in my hands.
“Germany…” I decided to just ignore him, even though that never actually made him go away. “Germany, did I forget something?” I just shook my head (a motion that absolutely didn’t help the headache). “Germany, why won’t you talk to me?”
“I just did.” I realized that it was probably a little ridiculous to keep dancing around the subject and staying in a funk like this. There was no real reason to keep it bottled up if it just kept getting out anyway. So the only way to handle the problem was to just face up to it. I took a deep breath, looked Italy in the eyes, and got ready to talk it out. Whether Italy would actually listen or not was another matter, but it was worth a shot.
"Italy... sit down for a moment."
"Huh? ...Okay." He actually listened to me for a change. "What's going on, Germany?"
I almost changed my mind. "Never mind. Nothing's wrong."
"No, Germany. What were you going to say?" The fact that Italy actually stayed on the subject surprised me.
"Look, you know I'm not very good at talking about this."
"So~? Try, Germany! Try!"
I had hit the point of no return. I had mentioned what Italy saw as a juicy secret, and he wasn't going to drop the subject till I spilled the beans. The only way around the problem was to face it directly. So I tried as Italy suggested... "Italy... Sometimes, I..." Come on, you're almost in the clear! "Sometimes I worry about you." There. That wasn't so hard, was it? (...Yes. Yes it was.)
"Y-you do?!" Italy got excited and began to lean towards me across the table. "Awwww, that's so nice! Thanks, Germany!"
"I, uh... I find myself worrying about what would happen if something happened to you. I mean, it's not as though any of our strategies would be compromised, but..." Going back to the practical matters of the war at hand was a kind of defense mechanism for me. The battlefield and my work was, in a sense, my comfort zone. I had to go back to that topic to re-steady myself after trekking in unfamiliar territory for so long.
"Yes, yes, I know that! When Italian and in doubt... sing, surrender, and sleep!" His right hand flew to the side of his head in a salute. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was mocking me.
"That's absolutely NOT what you do!" Ah, that felt better. It sounds a little... mean, but ordering Italy around put me back where I felt most comfortable. It was a way of restoring order and routine.
I thought that the digression would put me in the clear, but I was wrong. "So, our strategies wouldn't be compromised, but...?"
"But nothing." Much better. All my normal routines had been resumed. Italy was irritating as usual; I was barking at him as usual... and I didn't have to divulge any embarrassing secrets. I had managed to cover up my weaknesses.
...Nope. Italy was still going at it. He leaned further across the table. "Our strategies wouldn't be compromised, but are you implying that something else would, ve~...?" There he went with that weird "ve" thing again. Then he just slumped back in his chair and tried a different approach. "Please, Germany, tell me what's wrong. I don't like seeing you sad like this." He got up, came over to me, and said, "I'll stand here and look at you till you tell me."
Was he being this stubborn for my sake? I needed to take another deep breath before I spoke again. "You may want to sit back down for this. It's a little disturbing."
"D-disturbing?" Not even that scared him off, even though I swear I saw him shudder. With a cheery "Okay!" he sat down... in my lap.
"Is it really necessary for you to be so close?!"
"Yes! This way, if I get scared, I can hold on to you. And if you get scared, you can hold on to me!" Almost as if to demonstrate, his arms went around my neck. It goes without saying that Italy could be too touchy-feely at times, apparently to the point of completely forgetting the concept of personal space.
"Last night, I had a dream... where you died. I-"
I didn't even get to finish before Italy reacted. "Germany! That's horrible! How could you sleep after such an awful dream? Why didn't you tell me sooner? I could have-" I cut him off this time.
"I've told you a hundred times by now... I don't do sentimental things like this very well." But Italy was already jabbering away about something. "Italy, listen to me! Stop and-"
A third interruption came from one of my dogs pawing a garbage can. The rough scratching noise of its paws on the surface jolted us both to attention. For the dog to be acting up now, of all times... "Berlitz, no! There's nothing in there for you! SIT!" Berlitz obeyed, allowing us to get back on topic.
"Look, what I'm trying to say is... even if losing you wouldn't compromise our military power or anything related to the war... I guess it would compromise me. There. I told you. Are you happy now?"
The room went silent except for the sound of Berlitz going at the garbage can again. Before I could handle that, Italy was all over me. "R-really, Germany?! You really mean it?! Oh, that makes me so happy, ve~! But now... I want you to tell me why. Come on, Germany! You can do it!"
Why was Italy the one challenging me today? "You... you have your charms every once in a while. I find it... I kind of..."
"Yes~? Don’t be so shy!" Me, shy? …Well, maybe when it came to things like this…
"I find you easy to talk to. You listen to me sometimes, whether you think you do or not. You help me loosen up a little..." I couldn't go on. I was being reduced to a lovesick schoolgirl by Italy. There was something very wrong with this picture. …Actually, there was one more thing I could say. "Like today. Thank you for staying on me about- er, making me get that off my chest. I feel better now." And I really did. I guess moments like these were the real reasons for keeping Italy around.
"You're welcome! Besides, remember our Pact of Steel? Even if I can't always give you reinforcements... I can support you in other ways when you need it, right? That's kind of like what the Pact said, right?"
"Yeah. Sometimes I don't mind having to bail you out of a tough situation, either. Sometimes. Just so long as that dream never comes true..."
"I know you won't let that happen, Germany. You'll save me, and I'll save you! ...Kind of! In my own way!" In the end, his own way seemed to be sufficient for what it was meant for. He was the embodiment of the phrase, "A lover, not a fighter." Emotional support was important, too- especially for keeping up morale.
Suddenly, I heard a weird noise. Italy was surprisingly sharp today- he caught on right away. "Hey, have you even had breakfast yet?" It slowly occurred to me that I hadn't. "It sure doesn't sound like you did! I'll go make pasta!" Well, that had to be a new record for the longest he'd gone without mentioning pasta... Wait a minute, pasta for breakfast?! "It sounds weird, but why don't we try it? Let's try it, Germany!"
I wasn't really in a mood to say no to him, but I did call him over one last time as he got up to go to the kitchen. I said to him, "You may be completely useless in a battle... but, as a person, you're not bad at all. Thank you, Italy."
"Aww, thanks, Germany!" Another pause as he stopped to look me over. "Hold still for a moment, ve~" Before I could ask him what he was planning, he planted two kisses on my cheeks, one after the other. The blood went to my face before he even made contact. "That's funny! You always blush when I touch you."
I didn't even have time to scold him for surprising me like that when something else happened. Berlitz finally knocked over that garbage can, and guess what fell out?
...
Prussia.
With a video camera.
"H-hey, West! Fancy seeing you here, huh? Ahahaha!" That laugh of his always disturbed me a little. He even brought his little yellow bird with him.
"How long have you been here?!" I snatched the camera off the floor.
"Hey, give that back! I know someone who'll pay big bucks for even that little kiss, right there! If I'm going to waste my time here, you should at least let me get compensation for it!" Another cackle. In a moment, I was going to make him wish that he had disappeared with his country. You don't just kill a moment like that, and you don't exploit something like that, either!
Italy, as usual, defused the situation by coming from absolutely out of left field. "Oh, it's Germany's brother! Would you like some pasta, too?"
His bird tweeted, probably scared stiff by the dog. But Prussia didn't notice that. "Y'know, I haven't had breakfast either-"
"That's because you were stalking me!"
"Quiet, West! As I was saying... sure, why not? But it had better be a damn awesome pasta to make up for the trouble!"
Italy had already started towards the kitchen, although I wasn't sure if he was moving so quickly because Prussia was bothering him or just because pasta was involved. "Oh, it will be! All pasta is awesome pasta!" And with that, he disappeared behind the kitchen door.
Naturally, there was no way my brother would let this pass without some kind of comment. “Well, hey, at least you two make a cute couple! But what I want to know is… who’s going to be the bride?”
I was this close to getting up and throttling him. “How dare you! Our relationship isn’t even close to anything like that!”
“Oh, come on, you know you’re just in denial! Although, to your credit, there was a whole bunch of other stuff before that kiss.”
“And it’s not like I kissed him back or anything, so get off the subject.”
“You know you wanted to, after he made you feel all better! You practically owed it to him!”
“Cut that out! It sounds like you’re encouraging me!” I wasn’t about to let him have the satisfaction of seeing that sort of thing happen… or getting a picture of it. And on that note… “By the way, this camera is mine now.”
“WHAT?! That thing was expensive! You can’t just take it from me!” His devilish smile came back and I knew something unpleasant was on his mind. “Or do you want to watch the tape over and over again, pausing and staring longingly at just that one moment-”
Okay, that was crossing the line. I was up, on my feet, and ready to give him a well-deserved punch to the face in what felt like less than a second. I failed to take into account my brother’s reflexes, though- he practically barrel-rolled out of his chair just before I launched my fist. “Hey, calm down! I didn’t know it was such a touchy subject!” Liar. He knew full well that my relationship with Italy (whatever it really was) was a touchy subject, and he was also an expert at pushing my buttons. “Look, I won’t torture you with it any longer, okay? Just don’t kill me!” He wasn’t really afraid of me hurting him… he just had a really weird way of apologizing for his actions (when he apologized at all, that is).
Italy reappeared before I could give Prussia a little “talking-to.” “Everyone! Pasta’s almost ready, ve~!”
Prussia took the opportunity to change the subject. “Sounds like a plan! Let’s EAT already!” I wasn’t about to let him get away with switching topics so suddenly, but he must have anticipated that. “Oh, come on, Germany. Lighten up a little. Why don’t you try, you know, RELAXING for a moment? I know it’s a foreign concept to you, but I’m sure Italy can teach you how! Hahaha!”
…
Today was one of those interesting experiences in alliances: how one was formed, how it stayed together, and what happened when it was challenged. Even if Italy is useless… I guess I can say that he’ll always be one of my staunchest allies. And even though he’s a pain in the neck, I think I’ll always be his ally, too. It’s kind of like a less formal Pact of Steel… but one that’s probably just as important as the real thing.
...Whew. Now to uh, do some actual work. And to stooooppp shaaaakkkkiinnng like Latviaaaaa...
I found myself craving some cheap Germany/Italy, so I made some. It… didn’t turn out too bad, I think... even though the first and second parts seem like pasted-together sections of completely different fics. Also, I’m worried I may have made certain characters more or less serious than they really are… well, the fic itself kind of arbitrarily swings from moody to fluffy. I also had trouble figuring out how to end some segments, and you’ll probably be able to tell, since they drag on a bit. Well, I’ll let you be the judge regarding how good it really is. As usual, comments and criticism are very much appreciated.
Title:
Author/Artist: Me! (Sami-Fire)
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Germany, Italy, and Germany/Italy (pairing).
Rating: PG?
Warnings: Worksafe other than a brief reference to blood and violence and some minor throwaway curse words. It's also kinda long.
Summary: Germany has a dream that disturbs him. How does he end up coping with the sudden disturbance?
I'm standing on a battlefield.
The first thing I'm aware of is the chaos around me. Soldiers- presumably ones that should have been under my control- are running amok, shouting and shooting seemingly at random. The second thing I notice is the snow. It seems that my troops are already standing on a good few inches, and more is coming down by the second. It's not quite a blizzard, but it's definitely not just flurries, either. The flakes sting me as they land on me; it is bitterly cold out. The colors of everything seem washed out. There's only the white and gray of the snow and the deep green of soldier's uniforms. It's a very stark and inexplicably disturbing palette.
Needless to say, something hasn't gone according to orders. I immediately feel a pang of worry as I always do in these situations. These men are showing an astounding lack of discipline. If they don't stop this foolishness and follow the plans to the letter precisely as they were given, the problem will only get worse. I start giving orders: Resume formation! Cease fire! But they won't listen to me. Anxiety is beginning to pull at every part of me.
Suddenly, my mind is invaded by a terrible thought: Italy is in grave danger. No one has told me anything- I just know. Well, Italy landing himself in all kinds of trouble is nothing new, but this time, the feeling is distinctly different.
I take off in an undefined direction. The shouting of the mad soldiers is getting louder. I'm being shot at, but nothing is hitting me. Explosives go off, launching massive clusters of snow into the air. After a few minutes of just running, running, running... I finally find him.
He's collapsed onto his side. He's not even this still when he's sleeping. He rolls over to face me, showing me that he has stained quite a bit of snow with his blood. The deep, rich red contrasts sharply with all the drab colors I had seen up to this point. Normally, something like this is nothing to me, but this time I feel a little ill. His voice comes out sluggishly, as though he has to drag it out of his throat. It is feeble and languid- very much unlike the voice of the Italy I know.
"Germany... I..."
I am unable to say anything to him. I wait for him to continue, but I am met with only a protracted silence. I look down at him, then up into the sky and the snow. Something- a primal scream, a roar, something- wells up inside of me, a rage unlike anything I've ever felt before. I have failed my mission. Worse yet, I get a feeling that there was nothing I could do about it. I didn't even say goodbye to him. Before I even come close to fully processing what just happened, I feel an impact on the back of my head, and everything fades to darkness...
...Or not. It's more like everything fades to my ceiling. One of my dogs has jammed a foot into my side. I guess I should be thankful. Some dreams just shouldn't come to their "logical" conclusion. It must be very early in the morning, since the sun is nowhere to be found. I try to go to sleep, but that image won't stop following me: Italy lying dead in front of me, his blood on the snow...
Ugh. It's definitely not something I can sleep off. Tomorrow's going to be a rough day.
* * *
Later in the morning, I was staring into space over my coffee. I couldn't do anything else. My mind was slogging along at a snail's pace from having lost so much sleep. It was just one nightmare. Why did it affect me so much? I tried to shove it out of my mind. I would get to work right after my coffee. That's right- I just needed to focus on what I had to do. If I just stayed strong and didn't let a stupid dream get in the way, I'd be fine.
...
It wasn't even remotely that easy. I stayed slumped over my coffee, almost falling asleep where I sat. Damn, it didn't look like anything would get done today at this rate... That inability to do anything alone set my nerves on edge. Was this Italy's fault, or mine? I ended up with my head on the table, downed by the first throbbings of what I could tell was going to be a nasty headache.
Suddenly, I heard my door open, jolting me to my senses. While I expected what happened next, it still caught me off guard. Next thing I knew, Italy was zipping around me like a video on fast-forward. He sounded a little like one, too.
“Germany Germany Germany Germany Germany Germany Germany Germany Ger-”
After his fifteenth lap around my chair, I was able to grab him. “For the love of- Italy! I heard my name the first time!” I rested my increasingly achy head on my hands and tried my hardest to shut out Italy… and, as usual, failed. “Well, at least you remembered to put on clothes before you barged into my house. What do you want?”
“That’s it, Germany! I remembered to put on pants first! And then I actually remembered to put on the other clothes, too! Aren’t you proud of me?”
…Now what was I going to say to that? I just grunted a “Yeah, sure,” shoved him away, and put my head back in my hands.
“Germany…” I decided to just ignore him, even though that never actually made him go away. “Germany, did I forget something?” I just shook my head (a motion that absolutely didn’t help the headache). “Germany, why won’t you talk to me?”
“I just did.” I realized that it was probably a little ridiculous to keep dancing around the subject and staying in a funk like this. There was no real reason to keep it bottled up if it just kept getting out anyway. So the only way to handle the problem was to just face up to it. I took a deep breath, looked Italy in the eyes, and got ready to talk it out. Whether Italy would actually listen or not was another matter, but it was worth a shot.
"Italy... sit down for a moment."
"Huh? ...Okay." He actually listened to me for a change. "What's going on, Germany?"
I almost changed my mind. "Never mind. Nothing's wrong."
"No, Germany. What were you going to say?" The fact that Italy actually stayed on the subject surprised me.
"Look, you know I'm not very good at talking about this."
"So~? Try, Germany! Try!"
I had hit the point of no return. I had mentioned what Italy saw as a juicy secret, and he wasn't going to drop the subject till I spilled the beans. The only way around the problem was to face it directly. So I tried as Italy suggested... "Italy... Sometimes, I..." Come on, you're almost in the clear! "Sometimes I worry about you." There. That wasn't so hard, was it? (...Yes. Yes it was.)
"Y-you do?!" Italy got excited and began to lean towards me across the table. "Awwww, that's so nice! Thanks, Germany!"
"I, uh... I find myself worrying about what would happen if something happened to you. I mean, it's not as though any of our strategies would be compromised, but..." Going back to the practical matters of the war at hand was a kind of defense mechanism for me. The battlefield and my work was, in a sense, my comfort zone. I had to go back to that topic to re-steady myself after trekking in unfamiliar territory for so long.
"Yes, yes, I know that! When Italian and in doubt... sing, surrender, and sleep!" His right hand flew to the side of his head in a salute. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was mocking me.
"That's absolutely NOT what you do!" Ah, that felt better. It sounds a little... mean, but ordering Italy around put me back where I felt most comfortable. It was a way of restoring order and routine.
I thought that the digression would put me in the clear, but I was wrong. "So, our strategies wouldn't be compromised, but...?"
"But nothing." Much better. All my normal routines had been resumed. Italy was irritating as usual; I was barking at him as usual... and I didn't have to divulge any embarrassing secrets. I had managed to cover up my weaknesses.
...Nope. Italy was still going at it. He leaned further across the table. "Our strategies wouldn't be compromised, but are you implying that something else would, ve~...?" There he went with that weird "ve" thing again. Then he just slumped back in his chair and tried a different approach. "Please, Germany, tell me what's wrong. I don't like seeing you sad like this." He got up, came over to me, and said, "I'll stand here and look at you till you tell me."
Was he being this stubborn for my sake? I needed to take another deep breath before I spoke again. "You may want to sit back down for this. It's a little disturbing."
"D-disturbing?" Not even that scared him off, even though I swear I saw him shudder. With a cheery "Okay!" he sat down... in my lap.
"Is it really necessary for you to be so close?!"
"Yes! This way, if I get scared, I can hold on to you. And if you get scared, you can hold on to me!" Almost as if to demonstrate, his arms went around my neck. It goes without saying that Italy could be too touchy-feely at times, apparently to the point of completely forgetting the concept of personal space.
"Last night, I had a dream... where you died. I-"
I didn't even get to finish before Italy reacted. "Germany! That's horrible! How could you sleep after such an awful dream? Why didn't you tell me sooner? I could have-" I cut him off this time.
"I've told you a hundred times by now... I don't do sentimental things like this very well." But Italy was already jabbering away about something. "Italy, listen to me! Stop and-"
A third interruption came from one of my dogs pawing a garbage can. The rough scratching noise of its paws on the surface jolted us both to attention. For the dog to be acting up now, of all times... "Berlitz, no! There's nothing in there for you! SIT!" Berlitz obeyed, allowing us to get back on topic.
"Look, what I'm trying to say is... even if losing you wouldn't compromise our military power or anything related to the war... I guess it would compromise me. There. I told you. Are you happy now?"
The room went silent except for the sound of Berlitz going at the garbage can again. Before I could handle that, Italy was all over me. "R-really, Germany?! You really mean it?! Oh, that makes me so happy, ve~! But now... I want you to tell me why. Come on, Germany! You can do it!"
Why was Italy the one challenging me today? "You... you have your charms every once in a while. I find it... I kind of..."
"Yes~? Don’t be so shy!" Me, shy? …Well, maybe when it came to things like this…
"I find you easy to talk to. You listen to me sometimes, whether you think you do or not. You help me loosen up a little..." I couldn't go on. I was being reduced to a lovesick schoolgirl by Italy. There was something very wrong with this picture. …Actually, there was one more thing I could say. "Like today. Thank you for staying on me about- er, making me get that off my chest. I feel better now." And I really did. I guess moments like these were the real reasons for keeping Italy around.
"You're welcome! Besides, remember our Pact of Steel? Even if I can't always give you reinforcements... I can support you in other ways when you need it, right? That's kind of like what the Pact said, right?"
"Yeah. Sometimes I don't mind having to bail you out of a tough situation, either. Sometimes. Just so long as that dream never comes true..."
"I know you won't let that happen, Germany. You'll save me, and I'll save you! ...Kind of! In my own way!" In the end, his own way seemed to be sufficient for what it was meant for. He was the embodiment of the phrase, "A lover, not a fighter." Emotional support was important, too- especially for keeping up morale.
Suddenly, I heard a weird noise. Italy was surprisingly sharp today- he caught on right away. "Hey, have you even had breakfast yet?" It slowly occurred to me that I hadn't. "It sure doesn't sound like you did! I'll go make pasta!" Well, that had to be a new record for the longest he'd gone without mentioning pasta... Wait a minute, pasta for breakfast?! "It sounds weird, but why don't we try it? Let's try it, Germany!"
I wasn't really in a mood to say no to him, but I did call him over one last time as he got up to go to the kitchen. I said to him, "You may be completely useless in a battle... but, as a person, you're not bad at all. Thank you, Italy."
"Aww, thanks, Germany!" Another pause as he stopped to look me over. "Hold still for a moment, ve~" Before I could ask him what he was planning, he planted two kisses on my cheeks, one after the other. The blood went to my face before he even made contact. "That's funny! You always blush when I touch you."
I didn't even have time to scold him for surprising me like that when something else happened. Berlitz finally knocked over that garbage can, and guess what fell out?
...
Prussia.
With a video camera.
"H-hey, West! Fancy seeing you here, huh? Ahahaha!" That laugh of his always disturbed me a little. He even brought his little yellow bird with him.
"How long have you been here?!" I snatched the camera off the floor.
"Hey, give that back! I know someone who'll pay big bucks for even that little kiss, right there! If I'm going to waste my time here, you should at least let me get compensation for it!" Another cackle. In a moment, I was going to make him wish that he had disappeared with his country. You don't just kill a moment like that, and you don't exploit something like that, either!
Italy, as usual, defused the situation by coming from absolutely out of left field. "Oh, it's Germany's brother! Would you like some pasta, too?"
His bird tweeted, probably scared stiff by the dog. But Prussia didn't notice that. "Y'know, I haven't had breakfast either-"
"That's because you were stalking me!"
"Quiet, West! As I was saying... sure, why not? But it had better be a damn awesome pasta to make up for the trouble!"
Italy had already started towards the kitchen, although I wasn't sure if he was moving so quickly because Prussia was bothering him or just because pasta was involved. "Oh, it will be! All pasta is awesome pasta!" And with that, he disappeared behind the kitchen door.
Naturally, there was no way my brother would let this pass without some kind of comment. “Well, hey, at least you two make a cute couple! But what I want to know is… who’s going to be the bride?”
I was this close to getting up and throttling him. “How dare you! Our relationship isn’t even close to anything like that!”
“Oh, come on, you know you’re just in denial! Although, to your credit, there was a whole bunch of other stuff before that kiss.”
“And it’s not like I kissed him back or anything, so get off the subject.”
“You know you wanted to, after he made you feel all better! You practically owed it to him!”
“Cut that out! It sounds like you’re encouraging me!” I wasn’t about to let him have the satisfaction of seeing that sort of thing happen… or getting a picture of it. And on that note… “By the way, this camera is mine now.”
“WHAT?! That thing was expensive! You can’t just take it from me!” His devilish smile came back and I knew something unpleasant was on his mind. “Or do you want to watch the tape over and over again, pausing and staring longingly at just that one moment-”
Okay, that was crossing the line. I was up, on my feet, and ready to give him a well-deserved punch to the face in what felt like less than a second. I failed to take into account my brother’s reflexes, though- he practically barrel-rolled out of his chair just before I launched my fist. “Hey, calm down! I didn’t know it was such a touchy subject!” Liar. He knew full well that my relationship with Italy (whatever it really was) was a touchy subject, and he was also an expert at pushing my buttons. “Look, I won’t torture you with it any longer, okay? Just don’t kill me!” He wasn’t really afraid of me hurting him… he just had a really weird way of apologizing for his actions (when he apologized at all, that is).
Italy reappeared before I could give Prussia a little “talking-to.” “Everyone! Pasta’s almost ready, ve~!”
Prussia took the opportunity to change the subject. “Sounds like a plan! Let’s EAT already!” I wasn’t about to let him get away with switching topics so suddenly, but he must have anticipated that. “Oh, come on, Germany. Lighten up a little. Why don’t you try, you know, RELAXING for a moment? I know it’s a foreign concept to you, but I’m sure Italy can teach you how! Hahaha!”
…
Today was one of those interesting experiences in alliances: how one was formed, how it stayed together, and what happened when it was challenged. Even if Italy is useless… I guess I can say that he’ll always be one of my staunchest allies. And even though he’s a pain in the neck, I think I’ll always be his ally, too. It’s kind of like a less formal Pact of Steel… but one that’s probably just as important as the real thing.
...Whew. Now to uh, do some actual work. And to stooooppp shaaaakkkkiinnng like Latviaaaaa...