After watching a very sad video of the same title, I decided to write a one-shot to explain the story behind the video.
Summery: A sickness has stricken poor Italy, and Germany is heartbroken when each day Italy gets weaker. Faith is cruel, making Italy's life shorter with each passing hour and the strange dreams that Germany has of Italy and a young man.
I own nothing, just a story adaptation of the plot that I was given.
Warning: Character death and yaoi, you have been warned. OOC stuff as well, but that is to be expected in a character-death story
This is for my good friend, and fellow Hetalia fan, ami6739 AKA batdive101 who made the video and gave me the plot for this. I'm not sure what sickness you wanted him to have, so I went with a form of cancer, something Italy could hid for a while.
Song inspiration: Tears of an Angel by RyanDan, the lyric will be seen through out this one-shot.
On with the fic.
Tears of and Angel
Cover my eyes
Cover my ears
Tell me these words are a lie
It cant be true
That I'm losing you
The sun cannot fall from the sky
He didn't notice it at first, but Italy was hiding something from him and he knew it. Germany took notice to Italy's state when the boy was not eating anything at the table, which was odd since the Italian was always happily eating. It was odd to see him just pushing the pasta he had on his plate around, his eyes were unfocused, he was lost in his thoughts.
"Italy, is something wrong? The meal not to your liking?" Germany asked, keeping his calm demeanor in check in front of Japan who was eating at the table as well, he would have his worried voice for later.
The brunet blinked and looked over at him and smiled slightly, trying to look like nothing was bothering him, but his eyes told a different story. "Oh, it's nothing Germany, I'm just not feeling well right now. I think I'll go and get cleaned up for the night, see ya." He waved and got up from the table, leaving the other nations behind.
"Something is off with Italy, like he's got something eating at his mind." Germany blinked and looked at Japan, a serious expression of his face as he spoke.
With a sigh, Germany twirled the fork in his hand around. "I notice that too, I'll ask him later."
Italy sat in the warm water, he bit his lip as he sank under, trying not to close his eyes. He was so tired right now but he had to stay awake in the tub, lest he drown in the water. He sighed and started to clean himself carefully, trying not to look at his body.
He was getting thinner, he could tell. He had known this for, what was it, two weeks now…
The boy was tried, weaker, and not acting like himself, but he was doing his best not to show it, he didn't want to let down his team. Italy had to be strong for his friends and for his lover, he didn't want to look even weaker then he was before in the eyes of Germany.
This sickness… it was new and very rare, meaning there was no cure. Italy didn't know how much longer he had, he was losing strength everyday and he knew that it wouldn't be long before he would be too weak to even sit up.
When that time comes, death would follow and then he would be gone, leaving Germany with a broken heart, one he knew would forever remain broken. Italy didn't know he was even crying until his chest tightened and he heard his sobs echoing off the walls of the bathroom.
"Damnit…" He growled, rubbing his eyes before he sunk under the water, trying to relax a bit before he sat up, dripping wet and got out. When he stepped on the floor, he slipped, falling to the floor and he started to cry once more.
Italy knew he was a weak fighter, that never bothered him, but being weak while just being himself, being weak because of a sickness, being weak while he was with Germany, it hurt his pride and he felt like a failure to the blond man he loved, he wanted to be strong for him, to outlast this thing that was killing him.
He heard someone knocking on the door before it opened slightly and he heard Germany gasp, making the brunet bite his lip again. "Italy! What happened? Are you okay?" The German got down and helped Italy sit up, holding his naked form close.
"I'm okay… I slipped…" He mumbled, not looking at his lover.
"Well, if you say…" Before he could continue, Germany noticed Italy's body. It was pale, not that lovely Mediterranean tan that was his normal skin tone. His body, normally thin but in a healthy way, was scrawny, he could almost see bones on the boy.
"Italy… are you really okay? You look so sick…"
Italy turned to him; his face was a mask, hiding his true expression. "I'm just very under the weather, it's nothing to worry about, I get like this when I'm sick." He was lying, he was never like this when he was sick, but somehow the blond believed him.
"Alright, but if you're sick then maybe you shouldn't attend the meeting tomorrow." Germany spoke softly, helping Italy up but the brunet shook his head.
"No, I have to attend, it is mandatory for all countries to attend the world meetings and I haven't missed one yet and I'm not starting now." He replied, walking out of the room to slip on some shorts and a shirt before climbing into bed.
He lay with his back facing Germany, not wanting the older man to see the tears streaming down his cheeks again. He didn't want to lie to Germany anymore, he wanted to tell him the horrible truth, but he was so scared…
The meadow was beautiful, looking over a city from what seemed to be the Renaissance era from what he could tell, though he didn't really remember that time when he was younger, he knew what it looked like from the many history books he read.
Germany was looking around, but not of his own freewill, no, it was as if he was the backseat driver in this odd dream he was having, looking out of the eyes of someone he probably didn't even know. All he knew was that he was going up this hill in the meadow with a canvas under his arm, was this person an artist?
Suddenly, at the top of the hill, he saw a small figure in a green dress with their back to him. The German felt his cheeks heat up, the person he was in was blushing. Did this person like that small person at the top of the hill?
He felt the boy he was inside of speak, but no words came out, in fact he didn't hear anything in this dream. The person at the top of the hill turned away from the painting they happened to be working on and Germany's eyes widened. This person, so small and so cute looking, had the same hair style at his Italy.
The small boy, he was guessing though they wore a green dress and apron, turned to look at him and smiled, saying something but once again he could not hear. The two boys in this dream were talking and the one he was using walked over and sat on the grass, showing the Italy-look-alike the painting he had.
It was of a puppy and the Italy-look-alike was clapping in delight at the picture and seemed to be saying such nice things about the picture, causing the other to blush. Just as the dream started to become… dear he say it… cute, something made Germany wake up, a high pitch sound that he knew well…
Slamming a hand down on the bedside table, he turned off his alarm clock and sighed, that dream was so… strange, like he had seen it before. And what was up with that child that looked like his precious Italy. Speaking of which, he turned to see that the brunet angel was sleeping next to him and he smiled softly as he watched his eyes open, revealing chocolate-eyes come into view.
"Good morning." Germany spoke softly and stroked Italy's cheek, feeling the heat that it would give off when one was sick.
Italy nuzzled his hand and smiled softly. "Good morning…" He spoke so softly, it was the complete opposite of the cute, if not obnoxious, good morning that Italy normally yelled at the top of his lungs. This sickness must be really bothersome to his little Italy, hopefully it would end soon.
He didn't know how soon it would end, or how it would be finished.
"…We just use the sponges in the areas that are being flooded, then we'll wring them in the oceans and the problem will be solved!"
Once again, America stood at the board, talking pure nonsense about some odd idea he had that would help the rising water situation, which a lot of the other countries thought was complete and utter bullshit. Even if they didn't want to listen to him, the sandy-blond just kept on talking, a silly grin on his face.
Everyone seemed to not be paying attention to him, off in their own little worlds or speaking to each other, such as the case of Spain and Romano speaking and snickering slightly about something. Prussia seemed to be smirking about something, probably him self, France was looking at people and winking at them, Japan was quiet and keeping to himself, Russia was off in his own mind again, Canada was forgotten, and England was watching America, a soft smile of his face.
But with Germany and Italy, only the blond was even focusing on the meeting like he normally did, poor Italy was trying not to make any sudden moves or sounds. His body was hurting and he felt the horrible urge to vomit. It was hurting his throat and his stomach and torso were cramping, as if someone was trying to crush him.
From across the table, and actually taking his eyes off of America, England blinked and noticed that Italy was shaking slightly, his face pale and he was sweating. He looked to be in pain but was trying to hide it and this worried the emerald-eyed nation.
"Italy, are you alright?" He asked and Germany turned when he heard the question and noticed Italy for the first time since the meeting began and the color vanished from his face as he saw Italy in pain. Suddenly, the boy stood right up, knocked his chair over, and started coughing up blood.
This display alerted everyone in the room and panic arose when Italy didn't stop coughing up blood until he stumbled over the fallen chair and landed with a hard thud on the ground, being knocked out. As everyone ran to help or look at the poor brunet, Germany could only stare in shock at the site of the blood that was on the table, floor, his lover and a bit on himself.
Something was definitely wrong with his lover, and it wasn't just a simple flu.
Can you hear heaven cry
Tears of an angel
Tears of aaaaaaaa...
Tears of an angel
Tears of an angel.
The waiting room was quiet; the only sound was the rain outside of the windows and the shuffling of feet from America as he paced the floor of the room with the Axis and Allied members along with a few others, waiting for news on the boy. They had been there for two hours and everyone was depressed, even the Allies who actually liked Italy more then the others, though Russia might have not liked Italy at all and just came to see the others suffer over the Italian.
Germany sat on one of the hard, plastic chairs, his forehead resting against his folded hands, elbows on his knees. He was trying so hard to keep himself from making a scene, causing chaos to the hospital or crying his heart out were not acceptable behaviors in front of his ally or his enemies. His mind was all over the place, his beautiful pasta loving angel was sick, very sick, and he still didn't know how he was doing.
The sound of a loud groan of aggravation caught the German's attention and he looked up to see that America stopped pacing the floor and was standing still, his fists in balls, before turning to glare at Germany. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
"What are you talking about America?" Germany asked, not liking the tone America spoke in.
"What I'm talking about is that your ally, your friend, is sick to the point of throwing up blood and you let him go to the meeting today?! Didn't you even notice he was sick because the way he looked today meant that he had been sick for a long time?!"
"Look, I don't keep my eyes on that boy 24/7, he has his own life and I have mine, I didn't know he was even feeling ill until he told me he was under the weather last night! I told him he should attend today but he said he wasn't going to miss a meeting! Now don't get pissy at me you stuck-up bastard, I'm taking this harder then you all are since I'm his best friend!"
Everyone looked at the blond German, his eyes burning with anger, guilt, and sadness. America was a bit taken back by the loud, hurt-filled words of the older man and sat down next to England, mumbling an apology while the blond sitting next to him gave his hand a small squeeze.
The room was once again plagued in silence until the sound of someone walking down the hall disrupted it. The groups turned to look at a young woman walk into the room; her face was solemn as she looked at them all. "Are you all here for Mr. Vargas?" She asked and got nods in return.
"I'm sorry to be the one to say this but… after running a few tests; we have discovered that he has a severely advanced brain tumor, one that can not be removed. I'm sorry, but your friend… he only has two weeks to live…"
Germany's heart started to crack at the final statement that woman said and he stood right up from his seat and ran down the hall she came from, not listening to the protests he heard from the other room as he searched for his angel.
'This can't be true! My Italy, he can't be dying! There is so way such a beautiful boy can be dying!'
He finally found Italy's room and opened the door, finding the smaller on a bed, dressed in white hospital clothing, sleeping with IVs attached to his arms. Germany closed the door and walked over before collapsing at the side of Italy's bed and tried to hold back tears as he buried his face into the sheets of the bed.
Stop every clock
Stars are in shock
The river will flow to the sea
I wont let you fly
I wont say goodbye
I wont let you slip away from me
He was back in that strange dream world again, this time inside of a building where he saw the Italy-look-alike talking to a girl who looked like a younger Hungary. They seemed to notice him and smiled and waved, the little Italy waved and smiled brighter then Hungary and he felt his cheeks go red once more.
What were these dreams, these strange dreams that seemed like memories to him, long forgotten for a reason? Suddenly he walked into the room and for the first time, he heard sounds, they sounded like music and he saw Hungary playing a small guitar and the Italy-look-alike seemed to speak to him and he nodded to the silent request that turned out to be dancing.
They danced around the room to the music that most likely came from the girl's country. It was interesting to listen to and the dress, an outfit from Hungary no doubt, just made the dance all the most interesting. They seemed to do this for a while, the songs changing a few times, all the while Germany's dance partner seemed to be laughing and having a wonderful time.
The smile was so much like his own angel's; did that mean that they laughed the same way as well?
Suddenly the song came to an end, right in the middle the blond guessed, when someone walked into the room. It was a younger version of Austria, from how the man's face resembled that of the Austria he knew well.
He seemed to be talking to the boy that Germany was sharing a body with and the boy nodded before turning to the other two and saying something before walking out of the room.
Once out of the room, Germany could hear all sounds from the echoing of his and Austria's shoes to the music coming from the room again. Then he heard Austria speak, his voice filled with seriousness and slight grief.
"Sir, we need you to attend this war, it's the only way for it to end."
"But," Germany heard the boy speak, his voice sounded like a childish version of his own, "I thoughts things were doing better then before."
"Not exactly, they have gotten worse, to end this battle, we will need your help Holy Roman Empire."
The dream ended there when a loud sneeze woke Germany up and he sat right up, seeing that Italy had sneezed and was actually awake and Germany couldn't have been happier to see those chocolate orbs Italy called eyes. "Italy! You're awake!"
The other nation blinked. "Yes, I just woke up and I saw you sleeping there and then I sneezed." He paused a moment to look around the room he was in. "Where are we Germany? This isn't the board room."
The realization of what occurred not long ago came back and smacked Germany in the face like it was a burlap sack filled with bricks. "Italy… do you remember what happened last, before you blacked out?"
"I got sick and threw up, then I tripped and wanged my head on the floor."
"Yes… but do you remember why you threw up or what it was off?"
Italy was silent for a moment and his face fell. "I'm guess Germany now knows that his little Italy is very, very sick… right?" He got a nod.
"Why… why didn't you tell me you had a brain tumor…?"
The brunet looked confused. "I have a what? I just thought I was wasting away like Grandpa Rome, he died after getting really weak and sick, or at least that's what I was told when I was little."
Germany blinked, remembering the little-Italy from his dreams but he pushed that out of his current train of thought. "So you don't know how long you really have to live, do you?"
The other just shook his head. "After what happened in the room, I'd say not very long…" The silence and the bow of Germany's head was more then enough to make Italy's fears a reality. He sighed and turned his head to look out the window.
"I… Germany… I'm sorry for not telling you sooner… I wasn't sure on everything…"
"Please… no need to apologize, even if we knew, we wouldn't be able to prevent this." Reaching out, he took the brunet's hand and gave it a small squeeze, which was returned and the two sat quietly, trying to collect their thoughts.
They never noticed the door was opened and that Japan was watching them, feeling so much grief for his friends, they didn't deserves this at all, there was nothing right about the situation at hand.
It was depressing, seeing Italy like this.
Normally he was a bouncing ball of trouble and constant annoyance, but everyone expected it, it just meant that the boy was happy and that he was trying to make everyone else's day good, just like his.
But now he was quiet and very frail, his body getting weaker by the day but he was still smiling, trying to tell everyone not to worry, but the smile was just a form of false hope. There was nothing that could be done, no miracles, no wishing. This was something that life placed before Italy and he had to accept it without complaint.
No one smiled when Italy smiled nowadays.
The two weeks were nearing to an end, Italy was trying his best to stay alive but that was becoming difficult since he was unable to even get out of his bed now, having taken his last steps only four days beforehand, trying to give Germany a hug when he walked into the room to visit him.
He was barely eating; not seeing much need to at the time but still ate to keep up what little strength he had. He ate pasta, trying to savor his favorite food as best as he could. It was another scary thing to see, Italy not being excited over the food he was always asking for.
Germany spent every moment the hospital would allow with Italy, trying to make every moment good, he even made their final night of love making (he begged the hospital for this) to be their best, and it was. Germany did everything to please Italy in anyway the boy asked, and it was wonderful.
It was the final night, Italy's last night from what the doctor's said, and Germany, once again, begged to spend that night in the hospital bed with his little lover. He held the sleeping boy in his arms, trying his best not to sleep but he gave into what he body wanted.
The German's dreams took him back to that place he kept seeing, the one where he was known as Holy Roman Empire and there was Chibitalia as he called the boy when he was able to hear in his dreams. He saw many scenes with these two, through the eyes of HRE, some included him stalking Chibitalia, to ones of them spending time together.
He had come to the realization that Holy Roman Empire was in love with Chibitalia.
But this dream was not like the others, this one was sad. He saw that he was forced to leave Chibitalia behind, having to go and fight in a war. He was stopped on his way from leaving the estate he lived in by Chibitalia giving him a broom, the one he used all the times he was working at a maid, telling him something that he could not hear.
He asked the small boy what was a custom of saying thanks in his house, the reply was something that made HRE lean close, taking Chibitalia's small hands into his own.
'I've always loved you since the 900s…' He heard in his head.
Soon, a tender kiss was shared, one with so much passion and love that it made Germany's heart ache, these two were to be separated by a war neither wanted.
They spoke once more, with Germany only hearing HRE voice. "L-Later Italy, when the war is over, I will come see you for sure." HRE turned and started to walk away with his troops, but a voice, a voice he had never heard in the dreams rang out. The voice was one he had heard before, so long ago in a time he thought he had forgotten.
"I'll wait. I'll be waiting. I'll be waiting with plenty of sweets. And don't get hurt or sick. Let's be sure to meet again. For sure… for sure!" His voice as so beautiful, so cute, so fitting for a young Italy.
He turned and smiled, waving at the boy. 'No matter how many years pass, I'll love you the most of anyone in this world!'
Germany woke up with tears in his eyes; he now knew something that he had always wondered.
Who was he before he was Germany.
Can you hear heaven cry
Tears of an angel
Tears of aaaaaaaa...
Tears of an angel
Tears of an angel.
The room was only being occupied by a select few, those who knew Italy well. Japan, Austria, Spain, Hungary, Romano, Russia, France, China, England, America, and Germany, they all were in the room, watching Italy on the bed, holding a frail hand in Germany's.
The scene was upsetting, knowing that Italy was going to die, finally going to fall prey to what was killing him. And he was going to die with a smile on his face, that's what he made clear.
"Italy… my angel…" Germany started, rubbing Italy's small hand with his thumb.
"Yes…?" Italy spoke so softly, it was almost hard to catch.
He didn't want to cry, he didn't want to look weak, but the other nations, some of them were crying or trying not to look at the two at the bed. "Italy… I don't want to lose you… you mean so much to me…"
So hold on
Everyday on we'll go
I'm here, dont you fear
"I mean… I've loved you since I first met you…"
"When you found me in that box…?" Italy spoke, cracking a smile.
"Before that… I… I've loved you since the 900s… when we were younger, you lived in my house and we spent so much time together… but I had to leave to fight in a war… I kissed you before I left and I kept my promise… I returned…"
Italy looked into Germany's eyes; chocolate meeting with ocean blue and the most beautiful smile came to the brunet's face as he gave Germany's hand a tender squeeze. "I knew it… you were Holy Roman Empire… I knew you were okay…"
"I'm sorry it took me until now to come back…" He leaned down, connecting their lips in a kiss that was an exact copy of the one they shared the first time they kissed. Only this time, it was Italy's turn to leave and he wasn't returning…
They pulled away and Italy smiled softly, the beautiful eyes he had started to fade and his voice got quiet.
Little one don't let go
Dont let go
Dont let go
"Hehe, Germany, I'll never leave you. I love you so much…" Then the color of his eyes faded and they closed, forever, never to open again. His breath came to a halt and his heart stopped and the room was silent except for the soft crying coming from the bed.
"I love you too…"
Cover my eyes
Cover my ears
Tell me these words are a lie
I'm crying… I hate when I cry over something like this…
NOTE: The brain tumor is actually from another story I wrote for a different anime, and that one was sad to.
Please review and please watch the video this is based off while reading this, it will help.