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Germany’s hand hesitated above the ringing phone, he didn’t have the patience to deal with Italy asking for his help with something unimportant again, though they’d vowed to answer each other’s calls for assistance no matter the reason, so he answered.
He flinched at the loud voice coming through, holding it further from his ear as he strained to make out anything from the incoherent screams coming through, though gave up after a solid minute of not understanding a single word.
“Where are you?” He asked, hearing the response of ‘home’ he breathed a sigh of relief, it wouldn’t be too inconvenient then. “Okay, I’m coming, just stay calm for a little while, I’ll be there soon.” He spoke, hanging up the phone and starting towards his house.
“What is it?” He questioned, out of breath as he swung open the door, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Feliciano quivering, tears running down his face. “What’s wrong?” His voice softened as he walked toward the bed, wrapping his arms around his small frame, running fingers through auburn hair.
His cries quieted down at the touch. “I’m sorry.” He choked out after a while. “I woke up and it was dark, and I was all alone, it was scary.” He explained wiping the tears from his puffy eyes. Ludwig felt guilty for his reluctance answering the call seeing him like this.
“It’s fine.” He assured, pulling back a bit to kiss each cheek over the tear tracks, Italy smiled at the show of affection from the usually not touchy nation.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked, rubbing his back.
“Can you make me some pasta?” Feliciano requested, face returning to its usual state of smiling.
“Okay, fine.” He agreed, removing himself from the embrace to walk to the kitchen of his home. Italy followed behind him, picking up the grey-brown colored cat he’d taken care of ever since he found her escaped from a lab in Germany. He played with one of her paws between his fingers, the other patting her head, feeling the purr vibrating against his chest.
He sat on a barstool, the kitty curling onto his lap and kneading gently on his thighs. He laid his head on the table as he watched Germany looking through his cabinets trying to find the pots among almost every cabinet being filled with pasta.
“They’re in there.” He informed, pointing to the right one, Ludwig nodded saying a quiet ‘thanks’ as he took one, filling it with water and setting it on the stove. He turned the dial, flame lighting beneath the pot. Feliciano pet the cat on his lap lazily as he watched Ludwig opening the box of linguine, putting the dry sticks into the warming water.
Germany filled a glass of water and set it in front of him, Feliciano took it, drinking quickly. Ludwig didn’t miss the shaking of his hands as he held the glass.
He finished making the meal by heating pasta sauce in another smaller pot and allowing the linguini to finish cooking in relative silence, Italy hummed a song as he cooked, tracing patterns with a finger onto the surface of the counter, the cat’s loud purring also filling the silence.
Ludwig plated the food and pushed it in front of him. Italy raised his fork, humming pleasantly at the taste as he ate.
“Is your anxiety getting bad again?” Ludwig asked, Feliciano quickly shook his head.
“N-no I’m fine, I was just being dramatic.” He looked away.
“Still, your psychiatrist said to take that medication as needed to help you relax for when you feel like this.” He said, going to the spot next to the fridge where he knew Feliciano kept the bottles, but they weren’t there. “Where are they?” He asked, turning to him.
“I don’t need them.” He spoke, avoiding his gaze.
“What are you talking about?” Ludwig asked, face twisted in concern.
“Romano came over and said that I needed to stop being so weak when he saw them, so I stopped taking them.” He explained. “I slipped up today but I’m fine, really.” He assured seeing Germany’s worried face.
“Italy…” He spoke, sighing. “You didn’t throw them out, did you?” He asked.
“No, but…”
“Where are they?” He cut him off.
“Under the sink in the guest bathroom.” He said, Ludwig left the kitchen to get them, returning with two bottles.
He read the labels, opening the one that stated it was to be taken as needed, ‘Diazepam’. He poured two of the blue tablets in his hand, setting them on the counter beside the glass of water.
Feliciano pushed them away. “I don’t want them.” He argued.
“You need them though, you wouldn’t have had another anxiety attack if you didn’t. Taking medication doesn’t make you weak. You shouldn’t feel ashamed for needing a bit of help.” Ludwig spoke softly, holding his hand, rubbing it gently trying to convince him.
“Fine.” He relented, picking up the two pale blue tablets and putting them in his mouth, drinking water to help with swallowing them.
“Thank you.” Ludwig spoke. Feliciano’s eyes glossed over, not responding.
“How long have you been off of them?” Ludwig asked carefully.
“I’m sorry.” He said, tears escaping his eyes.
“I’m not mad, I just need to know so we can tell your psychiatrist.” He promised, squeezing his hand.
“I don’t know, two weeks maybe.” He admitted, Germany pulled him into an embrace.
“Thank you.” He spoke in his soft voice.
“I’m tired.” Feliciano confessed, rubbing his eyes. “Can you sleep with me tonight?” He asked.
“Sure.” Ludwig picked him up, the cat trailed behind them as he walked them back to his bedroom, carefully laying him down.
The cat jumped up on the bed, curling up by Feliciano’s head, licking the salt from his cheek with his coarse tongue. Ludwig wrapped his arms around him, the medication kicked in after a few minutes, making him sleepy, he drifted off quickly.