A/N: This came to me on a whim when I decided to take a break, relax, and put my writing skills to the test. Human names are used in this, something I don't usually do, because I suck.

I have been so used to writing comedy stories for this fandom that I've actually forgotten how to pull off angst. Usually, it's my strongest point.

I am not a big GerIta fan, so I apologise for OOC-ness...and also, I am pretty sure this has all been done before, but don't go thinking that I've stolen yours or somebody else's idea because, in all honesty, I do not read a lot of Hetalia fanfiction.

Now that that is over with, I apologise further for lack of sense, and if it just turns out crap.

He Remembered

Italy...

There truly were no words to describe Italy.

The country itself was always full of excitement, and was so pretty and historical that it attracted tourists from all over the world. The music, the art, the architecture, everything that the boot shaped peninsula was made it so unique.

But the person...the person Italy...

Was equally as enigmatic and elusive.

Italy was spontaneous, always full of joy and never upset. Even in the worst of situations he would never break down and cry. He wouldn't fight either; he'd simply give up, and surrender.

To other nations, he was known as Italy. But to a special nation, he was more than that. He was more than a country. He was a person. A person, who lived, breathed, shared the very anatomy of a human who hadn't lived for centuries. Who hadn't been conquered. Who hadn't...lost it all.

To call Feliciano Vargas weak was close to, if not just, a lie. He wasn't weak. He wasn't unprepared to fight.

But he was never prepared for this.

Feliciano sat, cradled in his older brother Lovino's arms, much to his dismay. Although Lovino was mostly, if not always, annoyed at Feliciano for something, or anything he could blame him on – even if it was not his fault – he truly did have a softer side to him. Especially now, under this consequence.

Lovino himself couldn't speak as he looked around to see destruction lurking every corner of his beautiful land. There had been no mercy; just an attack. An attack that wouldn't benefit anything. Although he would never have admitted it, his tears were stuck in his throat, and all he wanted was to curl up somewhere. Alone, of course. Not even in front of Antonio would he fall apart. But now...he had every reason to. Someone had to be heartless to not be moved by the views.

Gloom was scattered around everywhere, and the clouds had turned a dark grey colour, like it was going to rain. Only, not just ordinary rain. Something far worse. Buildings that used to touch the sky were now lying, collapsed and broken, on the ground. Lovino didn't know what had happened, nor did Feliciano. They didn't want to but they had to find out nevertheless. If something natural had destroyed their home, then Lovino would have cursed at the sky in his and his brother's name.

But if this was not natural, which it most likely wasn't, then he would have nothing to curse at. All he could be able to do in that circumstance was to slam his fists down to the ground in defeat, in frustration, in despair. Lovino let Feliciano slip out of his arms and lie on the moist ground. Lovino had no strength left in him, and collapsed next to his little brother, wanting to hold him tighter than ever but something, a force, pulling him back.

One of Feliciano's chestnut eyes opened for a change to see Lovino looking down at him with a worried expression. Feliciano couldn't speak well either, all he could do was gasp, and let out a little, '...Oh.'

He did not move, he did not shake, he did not open his mouth to speak. His strength had slowly vanquished also. All Feliciano could do was stare at Lovino with the saddest face in the world, hoping for understanding, begging for something good. His country was not supposed to look like the apocalypse had come a year before schedule. It was meant to be fun and bustling with life...and full of pasta.

So...why wasn't it? And was anyone going to come and help?

When Lovino finally caught his breath back, it certainly made Feliciano learn a few new words.

Feliciano, eyes shining with disappointment, tried to calm his brother down, but to no avail. Now, he really couldn't stop the tears glistening from falling and running down his cheeks.

"Damn it!" Lovino shouted, his voice curling with fury, no sign of sadness present. Feliciano's mouth twisted as he tried to unsuccessfully keep Lovino calm or at least in a state where he wasn't yelling obscenities. Yes, this was horrible, and yes, they could have almost been killed.

Lovino's eyes closed, and Feliciano swore he saw angry tears form in the corner of his eyes. "Damn it! Damn it! Why does this always happen to us?"

Feliciano simply made a soft moaning sound, careful not to spite his brother as he feared that he would slip out. He was nervous, and frightened. He was guaranteed to make a mistake.

"Look what you've done!" Lovino spat at his brother, his voice no longer words but practically harsh, forced growls. "If you hadn't have gotten involved with this, then we wouldn't have been hit, you bastard..."

Feliciano's head dropped and he rested his hands in his lap. His eyes followed Lovino as he paced back and forth, growling and swearing under his breath.

Feliciano may have played a small role in getting involved in a third World War, but he didn't deserve the entire blame at all. What his brother was doing wasn't fair, was uncalled for, and rude.

"That's it!" Lovino suddenly yelled. Feliciano could have sworn he felt shivers run down his spine and all the hairs on his body stick up. "I'm leaving and going for help. If I'm lucky I'll find that damn jerk Spain..."

Feliciano looked up at his brother one last time with sorrowful eyes, to let him know just how afraid he was. As he clutched his white flag, slowly waving it around subconsciously, he could do nothing but watch as his only protection walked away, leaving him alone, surrounded with melancholy.

As soon as Lovino had disappeared, Feliciano finally spoke.

"Don't leave..." his voice was hoarse, quiet, and sounded like strong tears were to fall any minute then. Any minute then had he fallen apart in the open, his tears even more visible than before. And nobody would have been there to have held him in their arms, giving him soothing words.

Because when Feliciano finally spoke, Lovino had gone, and it was too little too late.

Hours passed, and Feliciano awoke, not even realising he had fallen asleep.

He was in the same spot as before, but this time, he noticed something different. His uniform was torn, and a few new cuts were on show. Feliciano poked one before wincing in pain. It felt like he had just put a thousand flames onto it, and now it was scorching his skin.

How much longer did he have to stay there before someone would find him and tell him that he would be okay? Even if they had to improvise a lie, would someone be there, would someone take him into their embrace and tell them that they'd help?

Feliciano sighed. No.

No, Lovino wasn't coming back.

And no, old friends weren't, either. His betrayal was too strong. Feliciano had barely spoken to people that were now distant memories in what seemed like a life time.

The worst bit, the bit that got Feliciano every time, the bit that always managed to pierce through his delicate little heart yet somehow allow him to survive, was that he was not meant to betray him. He just couldn't deal with this anymore. He even clutched his arm and said he was sorry.

But, apparently, that wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

It would never bring him back now.

Feliciano glanced at his watch. The glass on it had cracked slightly, so reading it was hard but not impossible. It was nearing ten at night, and it was still bright enough that Feliciano could see just how much of his country had been annihilated.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching him. Feliciano looked up and squinted because of the setting Italian sun, but saw no one. He definitely wasn't hearing things. Someone was coming...was it help? Was someone finally going to be there for Feliciano?

When the footsteps cut off and Feliciano was almost certain had gone forever, he felt like an abandoned puppy never getting a home. Like the only puppy left in the cardboard box that nobody wanted.

The thought of that made Feliciano seriously want to burst into tears, but somehow he was refraining from it. Remember what your old friend had said, he told himself. Be strong. Toughen up. You'll never get far with that attitude, Italy.

He remembered the words as though he'd been especially ordered to recite them off by heart. He didn't have to remember those words. But, somehow, for some reason, he did. He remembered the way his voice sounded as he instructed him.

Feliciano's ears pricked up as he suddenly re-heard the footsteps starting over again. He started to feel nauseous and feared he wouldn't make it. He wasn't sure how much scars he bared or how much blood he had lost, but he was sure that the light would be shining down on him any moment then, blinding him.

No, you mustn't think like that, Feliciano could hear that voice again. You have to stay strong...

You have to stay strong.

How can one stay strong at a time like this? To see your own country destroyed, to see your own innocent people scared, running frightened, even killed or injured and left to die...no, that was impossible, surely. No one could look at that and laugh or stay neutral.

Feliciano flinched when, unexpectedly, a hand reached out to him, clad in a black glove. For a moment, he stayed still, too afraid to move. He knew about stranger danger, he wasn't a child any longer. He wasn't with Grandpa Rome anymore...

He wasn't with Austria, or Hungary, or...

Feliciano shook his head to erase the painful memories and to stay strong, reminding himself that, yes, he had a childish personality and couldn't do a lot of things for himself but that did not mean he wasn't an adult.

At roughly twenty in human age, Feliciano wasn't exactly the youngest country living.

"Take my hand," Feliciano flinched again at the voice, before thinking about how much he recognised that voice. That voice. It sounded so...familiar. The very harsh tone, the accent. No, it was simply a coincidence.

Feliciano took it without speaking, and was pulled up with such a force he couldn't help but groan a little. As soon as he stood up, he came face to face with the one man he wanted all along to come and save him...

Ludwig.

For years, he'd depended on him, always knew he'd come and be there to help him stand up if he ever fell down, literally. But this time he never thought Ludwig would have come back.

Feliciano didn't say a word and gulped, taking in Ludwig's facial features, captured by him like he was an alien. How he had missed those bright blue eyes that were almost one of a kind to Feliciano. How he had missed that frown of his that Feliciano always somehow managed to turn into a grin, no matter how much Ludwig would never had admitted that. Feliciano made him happy, and Ludwig, in turn, made Feliciano happy. It was like fate...weird as the two were at first, everyone grew used to it, and it all seemed so natural. It was like Feliciano and Ludwig were two that were to be, that needed to be. Without each other...what were they? Close to nothing...

"Are you here to save me?" Feliciano whispered, uncertainty laced in his words. Ludwig's eyebrow twitched noticeably; he looked like he was trying to hide his emotions just as much Feliciano was.

The silence said it all. As the breeze picked back up, Feliciano finally found the strength he needed to speak. He needed to break the awkward barrier between the two they had carefully built after World War II had ended and it was failure for both of them.

"You know, I've been waiting for someone," Feliciano sounded serious...out of character...this truly was the end of the world. "And I'm glad, because you came here in time...Ludwig."

The way Feliciano said his name was enough to make Ludwig crack a smile.

"Yeah, and I'm here now," Ludwig did his best to conceal the emotion behind his words, making them seem as they weren't that big of a deal. To Feliciano, however, they meant the world.

Ludwig's beautiful eyes suddenly grasped Feliciano's battered body, covered with visible scars and open wounds. He didn't know entirely what had happened, but knew Feliciano was in trouble, and that meant he knew he had to be the one to go out and rescue him. Just like old times.

Feliciano moved closer to Ludwig, took his hands, and smiled. It wasn't forced, either. Despite all the tragedy Feliciano had witnessed firsthand, Ludwig was always the one to cheer him up. He didn't have to do or say anything. He could just show up and Feliciano would instantly feel ten times better than before.

Not even pasta had that affect on him, surprisingly.

Feliciano wrapped his arms around Ludwig, hoping he wouldn't mind, and couldn't hold it in any longer. More tears uncontrollably streamed down his face, staining Ludwig's uniform.

Ludwig swore he heard his heart physically break in his own chest. Seeing Feliciano in such a state was truly overwhelming and was almost enough to make him cry as well. Ludwig was made of steel. He didn't cry. He didn't let anything tear his strong walls down. But Feliciano...

Feliciano was contagious, even though Germans are Germans wherever they go.

Ludwig certainly wasn't your everyday German, then.

Feliciano pulled himself away from Ludwig's chest, wiping tears away from his eyes. Ludwig's heart seriously did snap in two upon seeing him, and he couldn't hide his emotions this time.

"Sorry," Feliciano whispered an apology, although he really didn't need to. Ludwig could see why he was crying. This didn't make him weak. It only made him strong to show his true emotions, instead of hiding them, and concealing them like Ludwig was doing.

"You don't have to apologise," Ludwig bit his lip as he said it, and though it didn't like it, he truly did mean it. Feliciano didn't have to apologise for the way he felt. He didn't have to apologise for running into Ludwig's arms and crying. That was like apologising for being real.

Ludwig bent down and pulled Feliciano close to him again. Feliciano's heart stopped and travelled all the way to his throat, staying clocked there, stationary. He could hear it beat in his ears, and was afraid to swallow it again.

Feliciano managed to not cry again, feeling so safe in Ludwig's arms as he wrapped them around the Italian. Here was the place and now was the time that he was the one apologising.

He had to say sorry for all the things he said, sorry for making it out that he didn't care, sorry that he made it look as though he truly despised Feliciano. That wasn't the case. It was never the case.

Why did he have to be the one apologising?

Because Feliciano almost died. He almost never made it out alive. If he had died, Ludwig would have been so guilty for not telling Feliciano that he loved him.

Why did he love him?

Because he remembered.

He remembered that he left Feliciano, he left him to fight. Then...blankness. An empty piece of his life, a hole, a missing piece of the puzzle. A whole few years of nothing happening. So how did he wind up here?

He left Feliciano, the love of his life, although he did believe him to be a girl, but now...looking as Feliciano was in such trouble, in such despair, he realised that his gender didn't matter. He loved him no matter what.

If someone was against his love of the Italian, then he wouldn't care at all. If he had been a girl would have been more satisfactory, but Feliciano still managed to cruelly steal Ludwig's heart and manipulate it enough to make him fall shamelessly in love with him.

Ludwig, as he remembered, as the memories suddenly came pouring back to him, closed every metre of distance between him and Feliciano, breaking the height difference, and pressed Feliciano's lips against his.

Feliciano's eyes stayed open in shock for a while, not knowing whether to kiss back or not. He was thankful for Ludwig for saving him, but wasn't sure if kissing was the answer.

But...wasn't that how you showed love? To kiss?

Feliciano mentally shrugged, a way of telling himself 'oh, what the hell?' and kissed back gently. The two were then engaged in a loving kiss, full of passion and enclosed feelings. Feelings Ludwig had been choking back for years and dropping subtle hints every now and again, and feelings Feliciano made it ever so obvious he had.

It wasn't admiration.

It wasn't friendship.

This was something more...

Maybe gratitude...

But most of all...

It was love.

As the two broke apart, Ludwig being the first to do so, they looked at each other, both flustered, forgetting why they were there, and what had happened to Italy. Feliciano smiled sweetly, causing Ludwig to do so in exchange.

Ludwig gasped as he felt Feliciano wrap his arms around the German as a way of saying 'kiss me again!' and couldn't help but laugh a little.

Why? Because he remembered.

He remembered that Feliciano was something he couldn't live without, and wouldn't have to, as long as he kept getting into trouble...

...No, wait. Ludwig didn't want this as a part time thing.

He wanted this full time.

"Come with me," he bluntly stated, taking Feliciano's hand.

"Where are we going?" Feliciano asked with his blissful childish innocence, his smile returning, gradually mending Ludwig's heart. To see Feliciano smile under such condition was truly the sign of a strong man.

Oh, Ludwig had trained him well after all.

"Somewhere safe," Ludwig mused, walking with Feliciano at his heel, like he really was that abandoned puppy. At least someone wanted him...

"Somewhere far from here whilst we fix it up...

Somewhere for you and I to be together."

Feliciano smiled even wider, if that was possible, and Ludwig smiled back - not as wide, but it was still a smile.

"Okay!" Feliciano mock-saluted, ready to combust with happiness. "Do you promise me that my home will be better?"

Ludwig stopped all of a sudden, turned to face Feliciano with his pinky in the air, "Pinky swear."

Feliciano giggled endearingly and held his pinky out too as they concealed their promise.

"Come on, let's go get you cleaned up," Ludwig whispered, taking Feliciano's hand once again, pulling him close to his side, walking like boyfriend and girlfriend do.

Why did Ludwig suddenly grow a fond admiration (aside from love) for Feliciano? Because he promised he'd never let go. He promised that he'd follow Ludwig's advice from now on.

And why did Feliciano suddenly feel happy? Because Ludwig remembered.

He remembered.

He remembered him.

He remembered exactly why he came here.

He remembered that once he was madly in love with Feliciano Vargas.

And now, in the present, he remembered that he still is madly in love with Feliciano Vargas.

Now he had to give Feliciano attention for God only knows how long...

But he was okay with that.

A/N: The ending sucked, didn't it?

And the plot was cliché, wasn't it?

Ah well.

I tried my best. And I'm tired from watching HetaOni videos. They're some scary shit...

This didn't take me long... ._.

Reviews and any type of feedback are highly welcome, thank you! I probably made a few mistakes every now and again, pretend they aren't there. Haha, joking. If you see them, tell me, because I hate to be left in the dark. It's scary.

Hasta La Pasta~!