Well, here's my sequel to 'The Italian Girl'. I wasn't sure what I should call it, but I ended up deciding to give it a title that completely contrasted the story it is following. I have also told this from Italy's point of view. I really hope it is Ok! You'll notice immediately that it is much darker than 'The Italian Girl.'

Well, I'll stop blabbing so that you can get on with reading. Enjoy!

Italy's insides hurt. They were causing her agony. Nothing in the world had ever made her feel so ill. She thought she was going to loose consciousness. It seemed like a more favourable way to end this. Or rather, it would be favourable if she regained consciousness. If she regained it rather than lost it, then this would all have just been a silly dream. She would wake up beside the man she loved so dearly and tell him about it. After comforting her that it would never happen, they would laugh about it. They would kiss and say they loved each other over and over.

'N-No.' She could barely make sound.

The man she loved more than anything in the world, the man who had said he loved her, turned his back and began to walk.

Italy shot her head up, the blood rushing through it like an ambush. 'N-No!'

He did not answer, and she knew. She knew this more clearly than she had ever known anything.

She had lost him.

The rumble shook the world around Italy. The distant explosion of a grenade caused her to convulse in horror, clutching the sides of her head with both hands. She emitted a frightened squeak and ducked even lower behind the mound.

Everything had changed in such a short space of time. From happily training alongside her lover Germany, to being in the middle of a deadly battlefield alongside him. The shots rumbled and screamed in the distance. Some shots were closer, sounding only a few hundred yards away.

Italy squeaked again. 'Ve… ve… ve…'

'Italy,' a low German voice sounded beside her. 'I'm here.'

She nodded frantically, resisting the urge as best she could to hug him. He had instructed her not to do so, simply because they had to be vigilant at all times. Germany was the only one of the two constantly vigilant, though. Italy was constantly cowering in fear, her surroundings nothing but a blur of gun shots and explosions.

Needless to say, she was completely out of her depth.

'Ve… Germany… I'm scared…' she whimpered.

'I know,' he replied. 'But you have to focus…! We're in the middle of a battlefield! We cannot stop until all of the opposition in this area are either dead or have retreated…!'

Another gunshot. It sounded exceptionally close. As Italy cried out, Germany shot up from his crouch. He yelled something in German and fired three shots. Italy could feel the shots rip through their intended target - or targets. She could hear the opposition's strangled screams as the bullets made contact. Covering her ears made no difference. The sound could not be filtered.

Germany lowered himself, keeping his head raised slightly above the mound, scanning for any more intruders. He turned to Italy after a few minutes.

'It seems clear for now,' he said quietly. The gunshots had stopped, too. 'Hopefully we can rest tonight.'

Italy nodded, her head down and eyes squeezed shut. Her lids were becoming painful with the pressure, but still Italy did not open them. Sight scared her. She did not know what her eyes would come in contact with. Blood? Violence? Death? Germany's close voice was the only speck of reassurance she got.

Italy wanted nothing more than the days of not so long ago. The days where she and Germany could live in happiness together. When they could cook for each other and make love when they pleased. She missed taking showers with him and snuggling up to him in bed. They hadn't made love for weeks. Italy didn't dare mention this, because she knew that was probably one of the last things on Germany's mind. He took this war with what she had heard been called 'German Pride', while Italy was behaving with 'Italian Weakness.' She whimpered again. It was an involuntary reaction of her throat.

'Italy.' Germany's voice was closer. Italy could feel his breath against the top of her head. A hand began to stroke the top of her head, fingers running through the hair.

Another whimper. Italy could feel the shape of his hand so well. She wanted to reach out and kiss him all over his body. She wanted that hand and its partner to ravage her body. To caress the fears away from her.

A discrete tear cascaded down her cheek - a tear which embodied all the doubt and fear she had. Unfortunately, it didn't bring the emotions away from Italy's being. They remained, as rooted as they ever were.

'I wish things c-could be d-different…' Italy sobbed.

Her lover remained quiet. His hand remained on her head. 'Ja. Me, too. But… we'll win this war, and we'll go back to our old lives. We can live together in peace… We can live as lovers. Be strong, Italy.'

She choked another little sob, and flinched when another gunshot echoed over the battlefield. Germany took his hand from her head. Italy could hear his boots against the muddy and scarred ground as he shuffled to get a better view.

Italy managed to open her eyes, the light stinging for a couple of seconds. Germany's figure was poised, ready to fire when necessary.

His face scared her. His eyes were cold and calculating, having lost their once tender shine. She tried her very best to understand, but it was difficult. Italy was not a fighter, and Germany was. This was a difference that stood all too prominently during times like these.

'GET DOWN!' Germany yelled.

Italy threw herself to the ground, getting covered in the mud. Germany fired several shots, yelling in his native tongue.

'Ve-e-e…' cried Italy, clamping her hands over her ears.

The shots rang out and stabbed at Italy's being like knives. The ground shook with the endless rain of shots. Then there was silence. Germany retreated back to a crouch behind the mound. Italy opened an eye to see him breathing heavily. She took her hands from her ears and, with shaking arms, made her way to a kneeling position. The mud was cold, that temperature seeping through her military uniform. She shuddered.

After regaining normal breathing, Germany spoke quietly. 'I got a few of them, but they got a few of us. There's a comrade out there lying wounded. I cannot risk going after him… but…'

He paused to peek over the mound. Italy crept beside him and gripped his sleeve. She buried her head in it, convulsing with sobs.

The German moved, and Italy felt an arm come around her. It gave her a tight squeeze before retracting. The body heat beside her was gone in the next second.

'Ve? G-Germany?'

Her lover was dashing towards the wounded soldier. Italy shot up to see he was joined by other German soldiers. They had emerged from their hiding places upon seeing their commanding officer taking the leap into the open. They crowed around the wounded man, some facing outward to lookout for any opposing troops. Italy saw them carry the man towards the trench she and Germany occupied. As the man was moved under the mound, Italy shot to Germany's side. Before she could fling her arms around him, however, he gripped her shoulders with a deadly serious look upon his face.

'Italy,' he said. 'I want you to go with these soldaten to the medical hut near here.'

'Ve? But-'

'Nien! Italy! I command you to go!' Germany shouted. As Italy flinched, he placed his hand on her cheek. In a softer voice, he continued. 'I will join you this evening.'

Italy shook her head. 'Ve-e-e… N-no… Germany…'

The German took his hand away and beckoned one of his troops. Italy looked to the ground. The unwelcoming and cold ground.

At first, Italy thought Germany and the other soldier - who couldn't have been anymore than eighteen - were hugging, but she soon realised Germany was whispering something to him. The younger soldier nodded and glanced to Italy. He smiled weakly at her.

'Right then,' Germany sighed, looking to his injured comrade, who was bloodied and moaning. 'Get this man to the tent, and you soldier,' the addressed young man straightened out, trying to look older than he was, 'remember what I told you.'

The boy saluted with a slightly shaking hand.

'Italy, be strong,' Germany said quietly. 'I'll see you soon.'

With a small whimper, Italy nodded. The young German soldier approached her and nodded with boyish eyes. Italy nodded back, tying to smile.

The wounded man was carried on a stretcher out of the mound, with Italy following. The boy was staying close to her, looking both sheepish and scared. With one last glance back to her love, Italy was out in the open.

The group headed for the trees. The German troops around her were muttering things to each other in their own language. Italy knew a very small amount of German, so couldn't keep up. This increased her feelings of loneliness. She wondered vaguely how her own troops were doing. They were patrolling a different area, and were under German command. Italy hadn't seen any of her troops for a couple of days.

They were travelling through relatively thick forest. There were signs of war - trees had been torn down and destroyed by tanks and bullets.

After a half-hour walk, the medical hut was in sight. Italy breathed a sigh of relief as if it was the first breath she had delivered in the entire half-hour.

They entered the medical tent, and Italy was nearly overpowered by the smell of blood. She put her hand over her mouth, trying not to cough or gag. The nurse greeted them and told the soldiers where to take the wounded man. They left Italy and the young soldier.

Frankly, she didn't know what to do now. Italy simply sat down and buried her head in her hands. She felt faint and alone. The sounds of the wounded echoed in the hut. The sounds of approaching death. Italy's heart stammered. She had a shot of terrifying imagination. Germany's screams. She whimpered and shook her head.

'Eh… Ah… C-ciao… signorina…'

The sound of a German man attempting Italian with the thick, contrasting accent made Italy smile in spite of everything. She cast her eyes up to the boy before her. He was clutching his weapon in an attempt at gaining a few years of age. He still looked like a small child with a toy gun. He looked terrified.

Italy breathed in, air stale with blood and death. She smiled to the boy and beckoned for him to sit down.

'Hello,' she said. 'Thank you for protecting me.'

The boy blushed and nodded. 'J-Ja! Kein pro- Ah, no problem. It's my d-duty, and I'm happy to be protecting someone so c-close to my commanding officer…!'

His stutter was cute, she thought. It was also saddening, in a way. This boy clearly didn't know what he was getting into when he signed up. There were thousands like him. Thousands who had already lost their lives. Italy found herself thinking he was lucky to be alive. Then again, so was she.

'Thank you,' she repeated. She looked to the hut roof.

'H-hey… m-miss…?' he stuttered.

'Ve?'

'Ah, I was wondering… are you in-in a r-relationship with the commander…?' he asked. The struggle to get words out was evident.

'Ve? Oh… Yeah…! I am! Ve! Germany's my boyfriend, and I love him so much!' she said happily. Simply talking about him made her spirits rise.

'O-oh, I see. That's nice,' he said.

This boy was unlike any other German Italy had met. They were usually gruff, precise and strict. This young soldier was a complete contrast. Perhaps it was because he was so young and in completely out of his depth. He reminded Italy of herself.

'M-miss?' he asked, clutching his weapon like a lifeline.

'Ve?'

'Do you… Do you think we'll win this war?' he asked.

Italy's heart stuttered. When the words were asked with such an uncertain voice, the fate of the Axis was thrown into a different perspective in Italy's mind. She had never even thought of a loss. She assumed that because Germany was in command, things would work in the Axis's favour. Japan was fighting elsewhere, and he was cool and level-headed, so Italy had never doubted him. Now that the question was emitted, however, Italy's mind went slightly numb.

She looked to the boy, and managed to smile back to him. She remembered Germany patting her on the head and wondered if she should do the same to this boy. She did. 'Ve… Yeah, of course we'll win…!'

The boy's eyes widened in a weak happiness.

They remained there for the next few hours. They talked of the war, and learned more about each other as people. Italy learned that this boy had a girlfriend that he intended to marry once the war was over, and that he looked forward to having children with her. He had dreams, which warmed Italy's heart. She told him that she and Germany hadn't talked of marriage, but once the war ended, she was planning on thinking about it a lot more.

Married to Germany. Italy's heart soared for a few seconds. She would adore that. Wearing a ring he gave her. She would treasure it like she treasured him. Like she treasured his heart. For the first time in weeks, Italy had to suppress a giggle.

'Ve~ Thank you for talking to me,' Italy said.

'Ah…! N-no! Thank you for talking to me! You're very nice, miss,' he replied.

'Ve~' Italy laughed.

As spirits were high, they had a reason to drop right back down like lead weights. There was a buzz of panicked noise which invaded the air. It was men shouting. Italy and the boy shot up. The men were German, that much she could tell.

The men rocketed through the hut doors - which were only fabric. There were about five of them, all holding a stretcher. Italy couldn't see at first who was on the stretcher, but when she managed to peek around the soldiers, her heart stopped.

Germany was lying on it, his right shoulder bloodied. The red leaked through his uniform.

'Ve! G-Germany!' she cried, trying to get to him.

'Nien! Stay back!' one of the soldiers shouted, blocking Italy with his hand.

'B-But! Germany!' she cried again. 'Germany!'

The addressed, and wounded, man opened his eyes weakly. This was accompanied by a weak smile. He mouthed Italy's name.

The young soldier put his hand on Italy's shoulder. He brought her away from the stretcher as it was carried into another room. Italy cried out, struggling to get free from his grip.

'M-Miss!' the boy shouted, trying to summon authority in his voice. 'Please, miss! Let them do their job! You can go in when they've dressed that wound!'

Italy broke into a fit of sobs. She threw herself around and clutched the soldier, weeping.

'H-He's going- I don't want him to- I'm so- sc-scared!' she sobbed. 'I-He-'

'Miss Italy,' the German said, awkwardly hugging her back. 'It'll be Ok. He's strong, he'll pull through. You just wait.'

Italy nodded and was happy to sit down in the chair again. It felt like the strength had been drained out of her like air from a balloon. She felt cold. Germany's wound flashed over and over in her mind.

'Germany,' she choked.

After what seemed like both an eternity and a second, the nurse called for Italy. She said that Germany wanted to see her. Italy shot up from the seat, giving the young soldier an excited yet worried smile. He nodded and smiled back.

The nurse told Italy that the injury wasn't life-threatening and that he would make a full recovery in a short matter of time. Italy emitted a huge sigh of relief accompanied by a teary choke.

When Italy was guided into the room, the nurse patted her on the shoulder and left.

Italy's eyes locked on the German sitting up in his bed. He was shirtless, and there were two layers of white bandages wrapped around his upper torso. Italy was relived she couldn't see blood anymore. Red was a dangerous colour.

'Italy,' he said quietly, smiling gently at her.

'G-Germany…!' Italy squeaked, throwing herself to him and hugging him.

'Ah ha… Ow, Italy… my shoulder…' he said hoarsely.

'Ve? Oh! Oh, sorry!' She broke away from him and sat on the edge of the bed. It creaked under the new weight. 'Germany… What happened…? I-I was so-'

'Sh-h,' Germany breathed. 'Italy… It's Ok. It was just one of those Brits. One of them caught me in a bad position. I couldn't turn quickly enough.'

'Ve… Germany… I was so worried…' she whispered, stroking his lower arm. 'I was…so…'

'Italy,' Germany whispered again. 'It'll take more than a cheap British bullet wound to keep me down.'

They shared a laugh, and Italy stared into Germany's eyes. She loved their shade of blue. Cold yet warm. Rough yet gentle. She leaned in slowly, thankful nobody else was in this section of the hut.

They kissed. A kiss with warm passion. A kiss Italy had been longing for. Tongues met and hands touched. Germany was the one to break away. He nuzzled her neck.

'I love you,' he whispered. 'I know I haven't told you that in a long time. I haven't been acting very… loving recently…'

'Ve~' Italy cooed. 'No, Germany. Don't apologise. I understand… Things have been so scary… I just want this to be over.'

'Ja. I do, too,' he agreed. 'It is a pain… But we, the Axis, will win. It will all be worth it.'

Italy nodded enthusiastically. 'Si! We will win because Germany's so great! We have Japan on our side, too, so we can't lose!'

Germany smiled and held Italy's hand.

Thank you so much for reading! ^.^ I hope you enjoyed that. I look forward to posting more up! I'm grateful for any reviews! See you soon!