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Description
disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
quick write. No planning what so ever. sorry if it kind of repeats itself etc.

Italy was dizzy and he couldn't see very well when he came too once again. The last thing he remembered was swallowing some candy that his dear brother had offered him and a wave of pain before he blacked out. He was scared, he didn't know anything right now. As he cautiously felt his way around his surroundings, he wished someone was here with him. Old memories started to flash through his head. Painting with Grandpa Rome, doing chores in Mr. Austria's house, camping with Germany, fighting with Romano....Romano...his dear brother who betrayed him. Romano-the his twin and other half. Romano....who'd always hated him for being himself. Romano.Romano.Romano. More images flashed though his mind. Images of their childhood, their past-the more he thought about them the more twisted they became. If he had been mentally sane and not about to lose his sanity he would have thought it was a bad dream because he knew his brother wouldn't have-scratch that hadn't tried to kill him. It didn't matter because he wasn't sane...or was he now?

The more memories that flooded his mind the more obvious it became that Romano hated him-that Romano was only binding his time.
'Brother? He's no brother. He's a greedy, jealous bastard!'
Despite not being able to see anything, he started seeing stars before he passed out again.

Seborga, blissfully unaware walked into the Italian household to find Romano sleeping on the couch, covered in nasty scars and bruises. The Principality paused for a brief moment before moving on, feeling that something was off. Usually when he visited he could hear the two brothers arguing or having some light hearted banter. It was only dead quiet when they were asleep or both brothers were out.

It was Seborga's turn to do laundry so he decided to get started on that and collect the dirty clothes. He walked into Romanos' room to find Italy covered in pale and covered in blood. Seborga felt his heart racing and immediately bent down to help the poor nation.

When Italy woke up again, his vision was somewhat better. Everything was blurry as if someone had painted outside the lines with watercolors and outlined everything with a dull pencil.Everything in his vision was automatically a coupld shades darker than normal. Italy could tell he was in a bed but he had no recollection of how he'd gotten there-or had he been on the bed the whole time? He was so confused.
"Hey Feliciano- are you up?" Italy heard someone calling. If the European nation had been thinking straight he would have noticed the northern dialect that had a hint of French in it. But he wasn't. All he could think about was Romano. Everything reminded him of Romano.

"I brought you some pasta. It might cheer you up."

Italy looked at the figured. It was of medium height, carried dark brown hair and was slightly tan. So-dear brother had come to torment him again was he? He was going to show the older twin he wasn't so useless. Just because the Mafia was mostly in his half of the penninsula didn't mean Italy didn't know how to fight back.

The figure brought down the tray in front of him and handed him a fork. He acted on a mix of instinct from his caring Grandpa and pure spite. Italy tookk the utensil and stabbed the man in the ribs.

It had all happened too fast for Seborga. Before he even registered what had happened he had been stabbed side near his ribs. He cried out in pain before having a plate full of hot pasta slammed into his face, breaking the plate and leaving his face cut and scared. Seborga ran out of the room at full speed just to get away. He didn't forget to close the door before hobbling to the bathroom.

Italy had done it. He wasn't useless. He wasn't stupid. It was in the past now. Now he was serious and dangerous.

A/N: Will probably be edited after I submit but overall the wounds to Seborga are the same.

Description
disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
quick write. No planning what so ever. sorry if it kind of repeats itself etc.

Italy was dizzy and he couldn't see very well when he came too once again. The last thing he remembered was swallowing some candy that his dear brother had offered him and a wave of pain before he blacked out. He was scared, he didn't know anything right now. As he cautiously felt his way around his surroundings, he wished someone was here with him. Old memories started to flash through his head. Painting with Grandpa Rome, doing chores in Mr. Austria's house, camping with Germany, fighting with Romano....Romano...his dear brother who betrayed him. Romano-the his twin and other half. Romano....who'd always hated him for being himself. Romano.Romano.Romano. More images flashed though his mind. Images of their childhood, their past-the more he thought about them the more twisted they became. If he had been mentally sane and not about to lose his sanity he would have thought it was a bad dream because he knew his brother wouldn't have-scratch that hadn't tried to kill him. It didn't matter because he wasn't sane...or was he now?

The more memories that flooded his mind the more obvious it became that Romano hated him-that Romano was only binding his time.
'Brother? He's no brother. He's a greedy, jealous bastard!'
Despite not being able to see anything, he started seeing stars before he passed out again.

Seborga, blissfully unaware walked into the Italian household to find Romano sleeping on the couch, covered in nasty scars and bruises. The Principality paused for a brief moment before moving on, feeling that something was off. Usually when he visited he could hear the two brothers arguing or having some light hearted banter. It was only dead quiet when they were asleep or both brothers were out.

It was Seborga's turn to do laundry so he decided to get started on that and collect the dirty clothes. He walked into Romanos' room to find Italy covered in pale and covered in blood. Seborga felt his heart racing and immediately bent down to help the poor nation.

When Italy woke up again, his vision was somewhat better. Everything was blurry as if someone had painted outside the lines with watercolors and outlined everything with a dull pencil.Everything in his vision was automatically a coupld shades darker than normal. Italy could tell he was in a bed but he had no recollection of how he'd gotten there-or had he been on the bed the whole time? He was so confused.
"Hey Feliciano- are you up?" Italy heard someone calling. If the European nation had been thinking straight he would have noticed the northern dialect that had a hint of French in it. But he wasn't. All he could think about was Romano. Everything reminded him of Romano.

"I brought you some pasta. It might cheer you up."

Italy looked at the figured. It was of medium height, carried dark brown hair and was slightly tan. So-dear brother had come to torment him again was he? He was going to show the older twin he wasn't so useless. Just because the Mafia was mostly in his half of the penninsula didn't mean Italy didn't know how to fight back.

The figure brought down the tray in front of him and handed him a fork. He acted on a mix of instinct from his caring Grandpa and pure spite. Italy tookk the utensil and stabbed the man in the ribs.

It had all happened too fast for Seborga. Before he even registered what had happened he had been stabbed side near his ribs. He cried out in pain before having a plate full of hot pasta slammed into his face, breaking the plate and leaving his face cut and scared. Seborga ran out of the room at full speed just to get away. He didn't forget to close the door before hobbling to the bathroom.

Italy had done it. He wasn't useless. He wasn't stupid. It was in the past now. Now he was serious and dangerous.

A/N: Will probably be edited after I submit but overall the wounds to Seborga are the same.