Disclaimer: I don't own APH.

Warnings: Itacest. Swearing.

A/N: I wrote this one a while ago. That might be the reason why, whenever I read it, it's like looking through a kaleidoscope. Not that everything is crazy or rainbow-colored, but some things are a bit skewed because I hadn't yet formed a lot of opinions I had about certain characters. To be honest though, I wanted to write something like this because I wanted to stick two unlikely characters (at the time they were unlikely) together and make them talk to each other. And this is the result.

I should also mention that it takes place in the late 19th century.

Feliciano is sleeping on the bed; limbs sprawled out awkwardly like some kind of spider, naked as usual. There used to be a spot for me on that bed, but right now I'm just watching him from the doorway. There's no light on but the moon is catching him like this, my delicate and good-for-nothing little brother. I want to keep this memory in my mind, how his hair falls over his cheeks, the curves of his eye ashes, his legs, his lips.

But no. I'm not going to remember this. I'm going to incinerate it from my memory like the way Spain does to some of his; wear my normal face afterwards. Dammit. He's not something I should even be looking at in this way. That's the reason I'm going.

I'm going some place far away.

To be Lovino again, or whoever the hell I am.

Things weren't always so confusing for me. I remembered I had an urge once, a pure urge to be with my brother again. It was while I was living in Spain's house that I realized this, looking at an atlas that represented myself.

We were one landmass ruled my different countries. Split apart we would never amount to anything. Together, maybe we could be stronger. Maybe I would become stronger and be able to escape Bastard Spain's place. Just me and my brother, a force to be reckoned with against the world.

Spain came in then and told me to put the books back. I had been searching for this book, throwing all the other ones into a huge mess on the floor.

That's when I decided I wasn't going to take anymore of this. I'd be able to make a mess of my own books if I had my own house, I'd be able to leave them on the floor and nobody would tell me to pick them back up again.

I was childish back then but I had an iron hard resolve.

"Put them back yourself, you bastard!"

My little adventure doesn't work out so well.

First of all I get lost. I have a terrible sense of direction at the worst possible times. I crash into trees and slip on rocks in the dark. The next thing I know I'm stumbling around looking for the nearest hint of civilization.

At least I'm far from Italy. When I run, when I really want to run, I can go fast and pretty far in a short amount of time.

Unfortunately for me I wasn't looking where I was going and collided with a carriage.

The men inside instantly come out and give me some stern looks, angry as hell with me, as I can tell. I try to explain them that I wasn't trying to rob them or anything. Again, things don't go so well, apparently they don't respond well to rambling Italian.

They drop me off in a local jail, a disgusting and scary place. I curse them the whole time they talk with the police.

That only lands me a night in a cell, allowing a lot of time and a lot of darkness to get lost in my own thoughts. There is another figure in the cell across from mine. I can only make out a silhouette but it appears to be a some man, a drunk probably. I think about talking to him, but like hell I'm going to talk to any creepy guy in a prison cell. I confine myself to my bench, rock hard wood against my spine, and try to sleep.

My brother was crying one time I returned from working in the garden. I couldn't figure it out so I just stared and watched him for a while. Maybe he had cut himself with a kitchen utensil or overcooked his pasta.

"Oh, Lovino." He said, finally noticing me. He tried to wipe the tears away with his sleeve.

"Why were you crying?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Don't act like you didn't understand."

"I'm sorry. I just, it's-"

"Goddamn it! Don't tell me you overcooked the pasta again." I went to the look over the boiling pot on the stove. Yep. Just as I thought.

He was gone when I turned around again.

I wake up to what sounds like someone banging on their cell.

"Hey kid. You asleep?" A voice asks from the darkness.

I debate on whether I should answer him and finally decide I have nothing to lose. "Not anymore. And I'm not a kid."

"Wanna get out of here, kid?" He purposely enunciates.

I've decided. I hate him.

"What do you think?" I don't trust him. I won't let him give me false hope.

But instead he casually opens the cell door, boasting all the way. "I could've called for help but I figured 'use it or lose' when it comes to pickpocket skills."

I don't like the sound of this guy. He's too casual... too proud of himself. He's almost like someone I barely know.

"So what'd you get in here for?" He asks as he opens my cell door.

"Like I'd tell you." I turn to run down the hall out of this place but something stops me. I have to stop and stare at this guy one more time. The moon must be playing tricks on me because-

"You- Prussia?"

"Call me Gilbert. We're close enough now, aren't we?"

I don't believe it. Of all the people... "Why are you in here? Isn't this your own country?" I blurt out. Of course. It has to be. I took off running and ran straight into Prussia, almost literally.

"You got that right. But it doesn't mean I'm gonna make a special exception for it." He says it so casually, so naturally, that I think this guy must be an absolute idiot. "But I seem to remember me asking you what you were doing here."

"And I told you it was none of your business."

"Now is this the thanks I get for finally uniting you Italian brothers. You know I could take it back." He sighs lightly in mock despair. I want to punch his face.

"It wasn't anything."

"Oh come now. My citizens wouldn't throw you in jail for nothing. And what are you doing here anyway? Italy's a long way away."

"It was just a misunderstanding."

"Well, I can understand that." I don't know if he's joking or not but it's hopeless to figure it out. I start to walk out of the jail and he follows me.

It would be too embarrassing to tell him why I'm here, and I don't mean the carriage incident. The real reason I'm running away from home. I try to shrug him off but he keeps following me. It's so dark now and I can't decide which way I'm supposed to be going. The few lights in the town are all I have to go by now that a cloud has moved in front of the moon. I figure I could walk straight over and cliff and the bastard would still follow me.

"What? Why are you following me? Don't you have your own business to do?"

"Not until you answer my question."

"It doesn't matter."

"Course it does. It landed you in jail didn't it?"

"Tch, bastard." I'd take off running but with my luck the same thing would probably happen all over again.

"Come on," he grabs me by the shoulder, "tell me what's up."

"IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!" I spit in his face and walk off. I'm hoping the cover of darkness will be my friend but as soon as I take my third step that little, shitty cloud decides to be an asshole and lets the moon shine again, all for Prussia's spit-faced eyes.

Before I know it he's tackled me to the ground, straddling me down. I'm furious but my mind is wandering somewhere else. Apparently it's communicating with my groin that it finds the prospect of Prussia on top of me very pleasant.

And to top it off it's got me remembering things I've been trying to forget for so long.

I had that urge again, the impure one.

My brother was sleeping beside me, his naked chest rising and falling calmly. I stared at him for a while, as if I was watching a secret ritual that I wasn't supposed to see. I assaulted him with my eyes, imagining how that skin would feel under mine. What he would say or if he'd say anything. What it would be like...

Shit. I wanted to look under the covers. See what he was like while he was sleeping but I was more afraid of seeing myself. How I was getting off while just thinking those disgusting things. I hated myself right then and there. A loathing that was as deep as the sea.

"Ready to tell me brat?"

"I ran away." I mutter, embarrassed and humiliated. I can still see Feliciano so vividly in my mind. It's like a painting. It's like I'm not even talking to this bastard right now.

"You ran away? Correct me if I'm wrong, no, I know I'm right, but aren't you your own country now?"

"Yeah."

"So then why-"

"I just had to leave, okay. Like I said, it isn't any of your business, bastard." I add my trademark word in, just for spice.

"Now that's where you're wrong. Right now no one knows that half of Italy is in Prussia. Which means I have absolute power over you." I'd love it if someone explained his logic to me.

"So what?"

"So...," and he moves a hand to brush away by bangs, "I could do anything to you and nobody would know."

"Get off of me!"

"Jeez. Fine, fine. I will. Just promise you'll explain everything to me and that you won't try to walk away."

"Whatever." He gets off of me and I sit up. I try to gather the last shred of dignity I have left to face this bastard, but I realize the sad truth of it: I've got nothing.

"You were saying."

"I ran away."

"From what?"

I can't really explain it. I could say my brother. I could say myself. Anything would sound right. Instead something far more pathetic comes out of my mouth. "I just couldn't deal with it anymore."

And the bastard starts cracking up.

"So being a country is too tough for you? If that's the problem why don't you just run back to Spain or Austria. I'm sure they'd love to have you. Hell, even I'd consider it."

Apparently he's translated my anxiety to mean I can't be my own, independent nation. "Shut up!"

But he continues. "You guys had how many wars for independence? And now you don't want it anymore. I mean, I've known you guys were always weak. I didn't think you guys were that pathetic-"

"It's only me who-"

"Even better. Leave the country to your brother! Can you imagine that? It'll be a country of pasta and cowards, though I suppose it's already like that, with you or not."

I was ineffectual no matter which way Prussia looked at it. I had always known. Because grandpa took him instead of me. That we only existed as separate entities so we could be conquered separately. But the fact still hurt. I let Prussia know that, my fist colliding with his shoulder.

He still goes on though. "Pasta and cowards, not that I don't like the boy…"

"I don't need to deal with this." I announce, standing and heading off in some unknown direction. He continues to follow, so I try to shake him off. "Don't you have a war going on?" At least I'm well versed in news.

"And your point?"

"Shouldn't you be out there fighting it?"

"I guess so."

"You guess?"

"Well I try not to think about those things, you know, how I'm losing all my old friends in one century." For once he's saying something that makes sense. Hungary and Austria hate him. He isn't too popular with France right now either, and how you do that with a sex-obsessed freak is a feat all of its own. I realize I must be talking to one of the loneliest guys in the world.

"You're lucky." I say quietly.

"Lucky? How so?"

"Countries shouldn't have friends to begin with." I sound so bitter but it's the truth.

"And why not?" Like he's genuinely curious.

"It hurts them. You can't say no when your boss tells you to attack one of your friends, can you? You can't help yourself when you become one with another country, even if you barely know that person."

He seems shocked for once. "Pretty deep stuff kid, especially coming from you."

"Stop calling me a kid, I'm older than you."

"Ah, but you weren't unified before me. And this is where your problems begin, don't they? You've become a whole country and now you don't know where to begin, is that it?"

"No." I wish it was.

My brother was crying again. Sitting against the wall, shivering, his crying coming out in little hiccups. This time he didn't try to hide the fact from me, even when I sat down right next to him. I put my arms around him and wrapped him in a hug. I wasn't sure what to do. His face looked sullen, as if anything I said would make him cry again.

So I didn't say anything. I was good at that sometimes.

I laid my hand on his head, stroking him and trying to comfort him. My other hand had a mind of its own, gently tracing the frame of his body. He didn't seem to notice, just moved further into my embrace.

"But you still ran away, didn't you?"

"So what if I did?" Honestly, there are worse things than running away. I mean, Prussia has all that Teutonic Knights crap still welling up in him. But me. I'm okay with running away if it means I can stay alive. The way he accuses me like this makes it sound like a crime.

A crime worse than that one I'm trying to run away from.

"Veneziano. You're hugging so tight."

"Because brother is close to my heart and if we're like this then maybe we won't be separated."

A rush of heat filled me.

"I want that too." I said weakly.

"Romano?"

And he allowed me to touch his chest. Kiss him.

"That tickles."

I couldn't stop. He smelled like fresh sheets and sweat. I needed more.

I pushed him down.

"Ahh."

He was totally pliant beneath me. To each and every demand.

"Mmmph."

I started to undo his trousers. The tips of my fingers grazed his pubic hair.

"Stop." He said, barely a whisper.

I reached inside and held him in my hand. Tissue and muscle and skin and blood. It was soft and warm. So warm.

"Stop it! Brother!"

And my hands retreated faster than my mind could register anything.

We both were still for a moment, our breathing heavy. He curled up, hugged himself, and started to hiccup little sobs.

"I'm sorry." I thought I said, but it came out more like a sigh. I couldn't believe myself.

What was happening to me? To us? If this was what unification meant I didn't want any part of it anymore.

He was the first to stand, redo his shirt and trousers.

"M-maybe we shouldn't sleep together anymore." He said and left the room.

I was left to gather my thoughts, all of them scattered on the floor, sinking into the floorboards and getting lost in the madness below.

I took another approach to dealing with Prussia. If he wanted the facts I'd give him something close.

"It's about my brother."

"Italy huh?"

"Why do people always call him that? I'm Italy too!"

"Don't let it get to you."

"Would it get to you? If people called someone else Prussia. You know what? Don't answer that. I already know."

"Anyway, you were saying?"

"It's just that- It's so complicated. I think there's something wrong between us and I just can't understand it."

"Well you love your brother, don't you?"

Of course I do, but not the way you understand it. But there's no way I can say that to him.

"Hah! That's sentimental. Even for you." I fire at him. I think I have him. I can't wait to make this bastard eat his own words. Anything to end this stupid conversation, it's getting into uncomfortable territory.

But instead he looks concerned more than anything. And not concerned about himself like is usually the case. He's actually concerned about me. His look is starting to freak me out.

"What?" I say it like I'm offended. We've stopped walking. It's just two people staring each other down.

He's silent for a moment before he finally speaks. "Haven't you heard?"

He catches me off guard. "Heard what?"

"Nobody told you?"

"Told me what?" This is starting to seriously piss me off.

He sighs. "Well, I heard it from someone else but, you know your brother lived with Austria and Hungary when he was little."

I just glare at him. If he's going to go on about stupid shit like this...

"And the Holy Roman Empire." I correct him.

"Yeah, Holy Roman-"

"So what? Did they rape him or something?"

"No, nothing like that. It's just, I can't believe you haven't heard."

"About what!"

"That your brother loved the Holy Roman Empire."

"What?" The words don't match up for a second. Brother... loved... Holy Roman Empire... ?

"Apparently the Holy Roman Empire wanted Italy to join him. But Italy didn't want to, so he went off to war and even you probably know the rest of it."

"Why were you crying?"

"Huh?"

"Don't act like you didn't understand."

"I'm sorry. I just, it's-"

It suddenly all makes sense now. Feliciano's wanting but not wanting me. I can picture him in my head, playing along with my touches as he imagines his old, dead lover. I must have been fucking with his subconscious, made him feel like he was betraying someone because I became one with him instead.

We stand in silence for a while, none of us wanting to speak, as if we have somehow shamed ourselves.

Gilbert finally breaks the silence. "You know what your problem is?"

If he thought I'd respond to that he had another thing coming.

"It's that you haven't been exposed to the opposite sex yet. Spending your childhood cooped up with Spain and then your brother. No wonder! You've gone through puberty not knowing anything about girls, haven't you?"

"I know stuff about girls!"

"Tell me then. Tell me all about it." His sarcasm. I wanted to lash out at him and tell him whatever lewd things came to mind. But I couldn't think of one thing. Not one.

"That's what I thought." He says it like he's known it all along.

"What?"

I knew stuff about girls. I'd lived with Spain during my formative years. Of course I knew about girls.

However, I ended up knowing even more about Spain.

I swear the bastard would molest me in my sleep. I'd always wake up with my shirt scrunched up to my collarbone.

"No Romano. It's just how you sleep. You should see it, it's so cute."

"Bastard, it's impossible to watch myself sleep! And you do watch me! That's evidence enough!"

It was always like that, him being an ignorant, perverted idiot and I being the one to put up with him. I remembered the day I left. When I finally became independent from him. It shouldn't have been as difficult as it was.

"Well this is it, Romano. Should have known this day would come." He said in the same way he said everything- with a sad kind of smile.

I stood at the door. Not quite sure if I should hug him or slap him for all he put me through.

"You sure you want to go by yourself? I could take you."

"No, I'm going by myself." I could at least do that.

"I just wanted to let you know-"

"Yeah? What is it?" I, all of a sudden, felt like running. Taking off before he could say anything. Like I didn't want to hear it. Like I already knew what he was going to say.

"Nevermind. We'll see each other again."

"Bye."

"Bye."

But it was hard to make those first steps. To walk out that door. I was leaving everything I'd ever known and starting something I wasn't sure about. Sure, I was confident of my people and how they'd rule the country, but as for me... Would I even be useful? I knew that there didn't need to be two different entities to represent a country. Would I disappear the moment I stepped on my soil?

The thoughts plagued me and I was too sick to take a boat back. I walked by myself, the first independent act I'd done in so long. It was refreshing and terrifying, being out alone.

The anxiety came back though when I neared my border. All of the dread of disappearing seeped right up like a spring. I took my first steps and kept walking from there. I didn't disappear, not even close.

"Yo Liechtenstein. Open up!" The way he knocks on the door makes me think it'll fall off. We've walked for miles and finally we're at this rather unremarkable cottage.

A meek girl peaks out from the crook of the door eventually. Gilbert doesn't hesitate to grab her by whatever he can reach.

"Ah! Prussia! Umm..." The girl squeaks. She's a little young. Even for me.

"Long time no see girly. Don't think I forget what happened during the war. All those miscounted votes. Did you want to be at war with me or didn't you?"

"Oh, I, ummm..."

"So I'm thinking you owe me a little favor because all of the trouble you put me through. And seeing as you don't have an army right now, it's going to be pretty easy to take it by force." He says, tightening his grip.

"Okay, Prussia." I say. I don't want this going too far.

"Have you met my friend? He's the newly independent Kingdom of Italy. The southern part. And you want to hear something funny?" He has her by the front of her dress. It's only less inappropriate because of the fact that she doesn't seem to have any boobs.

"OKAY GILBERT!" I take him by the wrist and try to pull him away from the girl. For my sake and for her's. "I don't think this is necessary."

"Course it's necessary." He turns around, grinning like a madman in an armory, one hand caught in my grip and the other touching Liechtenstein inappropriately. "Mark my words kid. Today is the day you become a man."

That's when Switzerland comes out with a rifle.

The first thing I did when I walked into my house, our house, was set down my suitcase. I didn't have a lot of stuff from Spain anyway, so it was light.

The thought that hit my mind then was a stupid one. This house is going to be so empty. France had taken our art. There would be nothing to spruce the place up. Make it feel like a home.

"Brother?" It seemed Feliciano heard me come in and I followed his voice. He was in one of the many empty rooms, painting the walls.

"Oh no!" Feliciano dropped his paintbrush, ignoring the new splatter on the floor, and came running toward me, upset but smiling. "I wanted to finish before you arrived. Oh well."

He hugged me and I didn't even realize that he was covered in wet paint.

"It's so nice to see you. What do you think about the house?" He asked.

I looked around but nothing could change what I was going to say. "It's not the way I imagined." I tried to hide my disappointment but failed.

"You imagined it?" He sounded surprised. He actually sounded surprised.

"Idiot! We were going to be independent someday."

He looked up at me, smiling, with a smear of paint still on his cheeks. "But what do you mean by it's not the way you imagined."

"It just seems sort of empty and everything." I had a hard time coming up with the words. How is someone, who wanted something for so long, supposed to define it when they finally had it?

"That's alright. We'll make it our home. Just for the two of us!" And he hugged me tighter than anyone had in my life.

At that moment I fell in love with my brother.

"Jeez. You sprang your ankle trying to outrun that Swiss psycho?"

I had run as far as I could. I'm a good runner when I want to be; I just don't look where I'm going, which got me into this mess in the first place.

"It's not sprained." I try to move it and a surge of needles pins me in place. I try hard to hide the pain on my expression but from the way the bastard's looks I can tell it's useless.

"Of all the things I thought I would do tonight, carrying a boy wasn't one of them."

"So I guess being thrown in jail and molesting a girl were the actual ones."

He cups his chin and fakes thinking. "You know, I think they were."

"Just pick me up you bastard."

The world from Prussia's shoulders isn't exactly as glorified as he would have some people believe. It's just the same boring scenery, trees and shit. "Hey where are we going?" I ask, realizing that my voice sounds tired.

"Hmm... that's a good question. I'm hungry."

We don't talk much, and I doze off in my thoughts. I think about everything. What I'm going to do when my ankle's fixed and I don't have to ride this sick fuck. It's funny that I can't think of a single thing I want to do. What do I even want to become, leaving my country? Isn't it useless?

I thought I wanted independence, but it sounds like such a bad idea now- just looking at this Prussia bastard and his terrible wars scares the shit out of me. And trying to be myself again... that was hard too. Had I even changed since the time I was with Spain? I know my country had changed, but what about me? I'm… I was…

I was always Lovino. I was always this stupid bastard who wanted to get out a situation anytime something got too tough. Running away and screaming obscenities whenever it suited me. It didn't matter who it was, who I hurt along the way. I wanted to be stronger but, I'd always be this weak, little southern part of Italy. The one grandpa didn't take with him. The one Spain put up with and loved maybe. The one who was too obsessed with himself to even realize what his brother was going through.

I have no idea what it's like to lose a lover. Losing grandpa was sad, but someone around my age. Of course I'd miss my brother, but if he went down at this point so would I Spain is the only person who comes to mind and I'm sure I've wished the death of him several times. Hell, come to think of it I've even told my brother how much I wanted to kill that Spanish bastard. I'm the worst.

I really hated me right now. Much more than I ever hated myself when I liked my brother. Much more than anything. I hated myself because I was this person, and nobody could change it.

"Jeez kid. Ease up on the waterworks. The moths haven't even gotten to this coat yet." Are the words I wake up to. I feel the wetness on my cheeks and the damp spot that I've made on the bastard's prized coat. This is the lowest I've ever sunk, hands down. Even Turkey's invasions can't compare to this.

"I'm not crying." I mumble, half awake.

"That's it." The bastard drops me. At least, I register that I'm being dropped, eyes still closed and mind half occupied being asleep.

What I land on, however, is not the ice hard ground I'm expecting but something soft and warm. And springy.

Hay?

I open my eyes.

I'm in a dark place indoors. Maybe it's a shed or a barn because it feels like I'm on a pile of hay. I smell the stink of animals or maybe that's just Prussia.

"Bastard. You better be glad I didn't break my head." My voice. Dammit. I sound so weak and whiny.

"Explain yourself." He whispers. It's dark and I can't make out his facial expression, but he sounds so serious. It freaks me out.

"What do I have to explain?" There's the pathetic sobbing again. Okay. I admit. I am crying, but I have no idea why.

"You're running away from your country. Your brother. And you can't think of a reason why?"

"I thought we went over this already."

"Not yet." He leans over me and I still can only see his silhouette in the darkness.

"I don't want to talk about it."

I hear the unsheathing of a sword and my skin prickles. I instantly make to stand up but the stabbing pain in my ankle makes it too difficult.

"Explain." Comes the venomous whisper.

"Y-you psycho."

I hate it! I hate it! I hate it! I hate him and I hate me and I hate this world for making me the way I am.

"You still haven't told me yet."

"What?"

"The problem."

Paralyzed by fear I use my only excuse. It's not even an excuse. It's the truth.

"I think I love my brother."

And he laughs. I can tell he knows exactly what kind of love I'm talking about.

He laughs and eventually lies down beside me to catch his breath.

We lay side by side for a long time. Him catching his breath from laughing and me catching my breath from being freaked out by him. My whole face is hot. I'm so embarrassed I told him. It's definitely the end of me. Word about this will get out to every country and Europe and I'll probably be ostracized or something. Or maybe they wouldn't care. Maybe it's just me who wants to ostracize myself from them.

Prussia speaks first.

"So what kinds of naughty things have the Italies been doing in their new house?"

"We haven't done anything." I try to defend my self. But my mouth gets away from me. "No, that's not true. I almost forced myself on him, but… it's just me who wants him, and now that I know for sure, not the other way around."

He's silent for a moment, as if he's thinking, and I emphasize the if.

"I see it as a result of you two coming together. You know, becoming one."

"As if that would happen." Did he think he could explain my weird sex drive so easily?

"I'm serious. Think about it. You two wanted to be together for so long and now that you are some of that energy's still pent up somewhere."

"But I don't want to love him like that."

"You could always get yourself a girlfriend."

"I'm not going to Liechtenstein with you again." Just where the hell are we right now? We were in Prussia, ran out of Liechtenstein… This country is…

"Yeah, you're right. A guy like you can't get a girl."

"Shut up!"

"I call them as I see them."

"Ugh!" How can Prussia be scary and frustrating all at once, or do I just attract these kind of guys? Spain was the same way.

"Do you really love your brother?"

"What did I just tell you?"

"No, I mean. Do you know him? What he's like, what he wants to be?"

I think about it. Of course I know Feliciano. He's like… well, like any dumbass. And he wants to be…

I sigh. No, I don't know my brother that well.

Prussia takes the sigh to mean he's right. "I knew it! You love him, but you don't know why you love him."

"He's family. I have to."

"You don't always have to love your family." And it's the loneliest guy in the world talking again. But is he talking about himself or the people who hate his guts?

A moment of static silence plays out between and I can tell even he has some things he'd rather not go into.

"We're a couple of lonely fucks aren't we?" I ask him.

My question lingers in the stale air for a while, but I can tell he agrees with me.

"Hey, you still awake?"

"I wouldn't sleep again around you."

"Good. I wanted to show you something." He grabs my hand and hoists me up. It might have been the shock, or that I don't want to be too close to Prussia anymore, but I can walk on my ankle again.

It gets harder every day to live in the same house as Feliciano after I tried to- I almost-

I can't speak to him. I don't look at him.

This isn't what family is supposed to be. I preferred it the way it was before. When he was ignorant of my advances.

But I really fucked it up.

I decided to leave.

What Prussia shows me isn't all that awesome. He lights a lantern and shows me the inside of the shed. For a second I think the walls are alive, each piece moves a little in relation to the light. It's freaking scary.

Prussia just laughs at me. "Never seen that reaction before."

It's not for a few seconds until I realize that the walls aren't moving at all. There are just little chicks lined up on the shelves. Hundreds of them. What in the world does this guy do with them? No. I better not ask.

"Yeah, yeah. Now can you tell me where we are?"

"We're in Germany."

Oh yeah. That new country that I haven't met yet. Who cares?

I step out of the shed. The cold air sinks right into my gut but I shake it off. It's been a long night for me and I can't get tired anymore.

Prussia follows me out. He doesn't say anything, not even a snide remark.

"You better not tell anyone about what I told you." I whisper maliciously.

"Oh yeah. Who's gonna stop me, you and what army?"

"Why you!" I grab him by the collar, but he easily shakes me off.

"It was just a joke. C'mon, I can't waste my army on that."

He makes a good point but my fate is practically in his hands.

He takes a big yawn and says, "So you gonna go back home now?"

"What?"

"Well you can't stay here and you can't stay with me."

"What did I just tell you!"

"Yeah. So you forced yourself on someone else. Good thing it was just your brother so it didn't start a war. Believe me, nations have been getting into a lot freakier shit since before you were born. I mean have you even heard the stories about your grandfather? Way worse than anything you could possibly have done."

"But I might have hurt him."

He puts him arm on my shoulder and looks deep into my eyes with his ever-present smirk. "Then I think it's time for you to stop being a pussy and man up to it."

"I-I-I…"

"Look, the only way I'm not telling all your dirty secrets to every nation that'll listen is if you start marching south and apologize to your brother or whatever it is that you Italians do."

"So you're blackmailing me now!"

His grip tightens on my shoulders for added effect. "That's right. Now get a move on before I have a reason to speak to France again."

"You're a real bastard Prussia."

"An awesome bastard!" He lets go of me and slaps my back. I start walking. But I turn around just to make sure he isn't laughing at me.

And he's not. He's smiling like he's proud of me. Like I'm about to do something that someone can actually be proud of. I've never seen someone give me that look before.

And before I know it I'm running up to him and hugging him, crying into his arms.

"Dammit! Why did it have to be you! Why are you the one who's helping me? Why couldn't it have been that bastard Spain or Veneziano or Grandpa? Why are you the only one I've ever… ever…" I choke. I can't even formulate what Prussia has done for me in words. I let it all out in his arms. The sobs keep coming. I count them- one for Grandpa's death, one for Feliciano's innocence, one for Spain's patience with me. I expect him to push me away, say that crying is for pussies or something. Instead he wraps his arms around me and whispers into my ear, "That's what it means to be an independent country."

"How come you're so good at this?" I ask in shaky sobs.

"Yours truly also has a little brother who he needs to get back to." And just as suddenly as it came, the hug's gone. The tenderness is gone too and I am left only grasping cold air.

Prussia steps away and for once I can't read his expression. My eyes must still be blurry from crying.

I take a few deep breaths and face him again. This time he has the same easy-going expression as always.

"So I guess this is it then."

"I guess so." He smiles. He turns to walk away.

"So you're not going to impart any age-old Prussian wisdom on me?" I shout to his back.

He shoots me back a look. "Who do you think I am?"

A plate of pasta was placed in front of me.

Feliciano sits on the other side of the table with his own plate. "Welcome home Lovino," he says.

"It's nice to be home," I said.

"Maybe after dinner we can work on the house more. I was thinking of planting a garden in the back but I need your help." He gives a gleeful expression.

"Why me?" I asked.

"Because you're better at that kind of thing than I am."

"I never thought I'd hear that in my life."

"But it's true! Your tomatoes are always much better than mine! They're always so juicy and plump and-"

"Enough. I wasn't raised to be complimented so much," It was almost true.

"But another thing, I didn't want to build this house just by myself. I left some of it for you to make."

"Why?"

"Because it's both our's. We both have to make it the best we can and make sure it doesn't fall down."

I smiled. "Or lean to one side too much."

"Ah, that too!" He adds.

It was all I could do to not hug him right there. "It's nice to be home," I said again.

A/N: You might have noticed the ending had past and present tense in it, just like how this story has been told in memories and present actions. Actually a fellow fanfic writer used it once and I've always wanted to try it out myself. Since I had been working on the story on and off for a long, long time and still hadn't decided on an ending this sort of one seemed appropriate.

On another note, it was important to me for Romano to explore himself in this. When I started writing this I didn't want him to blame any one but himself for his little problems. But since he's Romano that was kind of hard to do. Anyway, it was fun to write the dialogue between him and Prussia. Hope you liked it too.