I do not own Hetalia.

Romano's P.O.V.

I woke up to the birds chirping outside my window and my alarm going off. I groaned silently and turned to shut off the alarm. I lay on my bed for a few more seconds, not wanting to get up. There was a world meeting today at fratello and I's country. But who would miss me if I didn't show up? No one liked me anyways. I knew that for a fact.

"Fratello! It's time to wake up!" I heard Veneziano shout from downstairs. I gritted my teeth, but then sighed. I knew that I had no choice on whether to go or not. Even if no one liked me, I still had to go. Reluctantly I got up and shouted back to my fratellino.

"Si! Lo so!" I shouted back (Yes! I know!). I shuffled my feet to the bathroom that was attached to my room to take a shower. I stripped of my sweatpants and tank top, turning the shower on. I turned it to as hot as it could go without melting my skin off before I stepped in. I stood there for a few moments, relaxing my muscles. When I opened my hazel green eyes, I spotted my razor hidden behind the soap. I grabbed it, sitting in the tub. While the hot water was pouring down my back, I dragged my razor over the inside of my left thigh. Blood instantly welled up and washed away. The pain didn't faze me anymore, I was used to it. The cut healed over, not even leaving a scar. I sighed in frustration and dragged the razor over the major vein in my left wrist. Blood poured out of the cut for a few seconds before it already started to close up, not leaving any trace behind.

I hate that the cuts don't scar. I sometimes need a reminder that no one wants me. I didn't belong having flawless skin. I had learned to take the brunt of any damage that happens to our country. Physical, emotional, economical. I took it all. I deserved it. I knew I did, so I punished myself. But I also did it for my fratellino. He didn't deserve any hurt, because he never did anything wrong. He tried to keep peace. What was wrong with that? I sighed deeply and got up to finish my shower. I washed my hair and body, rinsed off, and then shut the shower off. I let out another sigh before I grabbed a towel and started to dry off.

I walked into my room and grabbed the suit my fratellino had put out for me. It was a basic black suit, white shirt, black tie. Boring, but unnoticeable. I walked downstairs, and saw fratellino finishing his breakfast.

"Eat fratello," he said with a wide smile on his face. I gave my signature frown and shook my head.

"Not hungry," I grumbled. No one knew that my attitude was fake. I had given up a long time ago, but no one could know. A nation couldn't die without a reason, and I haven't found a loophole yet. I knew that I wasn't needed. Everyone had Veneziano as Italy. No one ever acknowledged me as a part of Italy before. No one.

"You barely ate dinner last night though, fratello," he said, worry coating his voice. No. I didn't want fratellino to worry about me. So I raised an eyebrow.

"I ate more in the middle of the night," I lied smoothly. Veneziano instantly smiled and left the subject alone.

"Ve~. Okay!" he said, getting up to wash his dishes in the sink. I crossed my arms waiting to leave. As I did, I noticed that you could feel each individual rib. I wasn't very hungry anymore, and I had grown accustomed to lying to everyone. Small little lies here and there about things I do, what I have or haven't eaten. Suddenly Veneziano broke me out of my thoughts again.

"Okay fratello! All ready to go!" he said loudly with a big grin. I only scowled and nodded, following behind him to the car. My suitcase for meetings was filled with sketch supplies and a sketchbook. My brother did all the work. I only had to show up, and sometimes I wondered why I even bother. No one payed me any attention, except to insult me or talk about me behind my back. I zoned out for the whole car ride while fratellino went on and on about something he did with Germany. I didn't care about that bastard. "Fratello we're here!"

"Okay," I grumbled, grabbing my suitcase and getting out of the car. Fratellino followed suit, but once he saw Germany walking into the building he took off. It wasn't the first time that he left me behind. I knew that I was just a bother to him anyway. It would be better if I never existed. I walked into the meeting room and was greeted by all the countries ignoring me.

"Hey England, you know I'm right because I"M THE HERO!" I heard America shout. I scowled at the noise of all of the countries and just made my way to my seat. Eventually it got quiet enough to start the meeting, and I started to draw like I always did. It was about halfway through the meeting when something happened.

'RING! RING!'

Germany's phone was ringing.

"Hallo?" he asked (Hello?). I didn't pay attention to him, but I suddenly felt a stickiness sliding from just underneath my ribcage down my stomach. I frowned, thinking I was imagining things. I was brought back to everyone else when I heard the click of the end of Germany's phone call. "Italy, is anything wrong?"

"No," he said. I looked up to see Germany looking worried, and fratellino looking clueless. "Should there be?"

"Yes. An explosive volcano erupted in your country. You should be able to tell when this happens," he explained. Fratellino's eyes widened, and he shook his head.

"I'm not injured anywhere," he said. I pretended to ignore everyone. Until America said something.

"Um," he started. Everyone except me turned to look at him. "I don't know if this means anything, but Romano's suit is turning red."

I frowned and looked down. Sure enough, my suit was being stained red. I brought a hand to it, feeling how sticky it was. I slowly realized that it was blood. It made sense. I took the brunt of any damage done to this country. A volcano erupted. I would get the injury from it. Plus when I concentrated, I could feel lives of our people slipping away. I didn't care about the blood, but I didn't know what to do because it wasn't healing.

Germany's P.O.V.

I watched Romano throughout the entire meeting. I was a little curious on why he never did anything but draw during world meetings. When I got the phone call from the Italian government that one of the thought-to-be dormant volcanoes was erupting violently, I was worried. Italy didn't have any physical mark from this, and didn't seem to know that anything bad was happening to his country. Then again, neither did Romano. It was very confusing, and I asked Italy about it when I got off this phone.

"Italy, is anything wrong?"

"No," he said, confused. Romano looked up for a moment before going back to his drawing. He had a slight blank look in his eyes that scared me a little bit. "Should I be?"

"Yes," I said. Why weren't they feeling any pain from this? "An explosive volcano erupted in your country. You should be able to tell when this happens."

Italy's eyes widened, and he shook his head.

"I'm not injured anywhere," he replied, and I noticed that Romano was truly ignoring everything.

"Um," America started. I saw Romano stiffen out of the corner of my eye, and I frowned even after looking towards America. "I don't know if this means anything, but Romano's suit is turning red."

Everyone turned to look at Romano, and sure enough his suit was turning red. Romano was frowning, but didn't seem to be in any pain. He looked a little lost, but didn't seem to be in any pain at all. All of a sudden, Prussia stood up from his hidden place among the nations. I frowned at his appearance, but didn't say anything. He walked up to Romano calmly but slowly. Romano finally noticed Prussia when he was right in front of him and crouching down in front of his seat.

"It won't stop bleeding on its own," he spoke softly. I'd never seen my brother this gentle. I've seen him broken down from the war, after we retrieved him from Russia's house. But he was never gentle. Romano looked confused. Prussia slowly extended his hand towards where the blood was coming from. He rested his hand above the wound, but the Italian didn't even flinch. He just started at my bruder with confused eyes. I watched Prussia slowly unbutton Romano's suit jacket and then start on his white blood-stained button up shirt. My eyes widened when I saw underneath the shirt. Not only was there a huge bleeding gash underneath his rib cage, but his rib cage was sunken in. You could see every individual rib. It wasn't healthy, even for a nation. But bruder didn't seem fazed by it in the least.

"What do you mean?"

Romano's P.O.V.

"What do you mean?" I asked, voice shakier than I wanted it to be. I didn't understand why I felt that I could trust Prussia. I don't know why I accepted his touch when I pushed everyone else away. I guess it could have been the look in his eyes. He understood, but didn't pity what he saw. He wanted to help me, not because he had to. But because he wanted to. It was the first time in centuries that I felt that I was wanted by somebody. Even if it was the potato-bastard's older brother.

"This won't close up on its own. It needs to be cleaned and bandaged," he said. Before I could think rationally, my body seemed to make a decision on its own by nodding my head. I let him lead me out of the room and bring me to the bathroom. I didn't realize that he was holding my hand the whole time.

"Why?" I asked, not sure myself of what I was asking. Prussia smiled softly, another rare sight.

"Because you're worth it," he said simply. There was a simple warmth to his words that let me know he meant what he said. But I wasn't worth it, and I knew that all too well. When we reached the bathroom, he carefully picked me up and set me on the counter so he could work on the wound easier. "As you know, wounds inflicted by nature don't heal as quickly as other wounds do. Battle wounds or accidents will heal in a matter of seconds. But wounds from nature are one of the things that could kill a nation."

When I heard this, my eyes grew wide. I struggled against the older country now that I knew that. Even nature knew that I didn't deserve to live. I finally got away from the nation and ran to the other side of the room. I threw my shirt across the room and stared at my wound for a second. It was a huge gash across my stomach, from one side to the other. I took a deep breath, and dug my hands into the wound. I finally felt some pain from the action, after years of being numb. The blood fell faster and I started to get dizzier. Just before I passed out, I saw Prussia in front of me once again.

Veneziano's P.O.V.

I watched as Prussia lead my brother out of the room. I was confused. Why hadn't I felt any pain? Without a word, I followed the pair. I noticed that we were headed to the bathroom.

"Why?" Fratello's voice was so soft and vulnerable. Why did he sound so scared?

"Because you're worth it," Prussia answered. There was a warmth to his voice that I'd never heard before. I wanted to know what was wrong with fratello. If he was dying, I would never be able to run the country on my own. Fratello did a lot more than he was given credit for. He might not do the paperwork from meetings, but he did everything else. I knew that I had never felt pain from our country before. I knew Romano took all of the pain, and I knew that there wasn't anything I could do. I could never lose him. A tear slipped from my eye as I watched Prussia start to work on fratello. "As you know, wounds inflicted by nature don't heal as quickly as other wounds do. Battle wounds or accidents will heal in a matter of seconds. But wounds from nature are one of the things that could kill a nation."

I watched as fratello's eyes grew wide and he struggled out of Prussia's hold. He ran to the other side of the room and looked down at the huge gash in his stomach. Something flashed across his face, something I couldn't describe with words. He then dug his hands into his wounds and pulled it apart further. My eyes widened as tears began to fall freely from my eyes. It was then that I realized that my beloved fratello wanted to die. He wanted to leave me, leave this world, and never come back.

Prussia's P.O.V.

I watched as Romano ripped open the wounds on his stomach even more. He fell to his knees as tears started falling from his eyes. I calmly walked over to him and grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from the wound.

"No!" he yelled. He looked up at me like I was betraying him. I only shook my head. He continued before I could say anything, though. "Please! Please, you have to let me go."

"Italia, zitto," I replied gently. (Italy, shush.) The southern Italian stopped looked up at me with big eyes that were vulnerable. He was so fragile, I had to be careful. Though I know from my own experience as to what I can say. Everyone thinks I changed because of my time spent with Russia during the Second World War. The truth, is that Russia helped heal me. We were inseparable and leaned on each other for support. I was back to my 'old' self that no one ever remembers. They only remember that face I put on to protect myself. Their insults hurt, over the years I became numb to them. I tried to kill myself, and felt kind of like this Italian before me does. I picked the younger country up and put him on the counter. I didn't have much time left before he bleed out completely. "Mi permetta di prendere cura di te." (Let me take care of you.)

Romano was stunned that I was speaking to him in Italian, and that I called him Italy. I used that opportunity to clean him up and wrap a bandage around the gash. I was just finishing when the southern Italian passed out from blood loss and fell forward. I sighed and put his head in the crook of my neck.

"Vene, let's go back to the meeting room," I said, acknowledging the northern half of Italy for the first time. I knew he had followed us here.

"Ve~. Egli sarĂ  bene?" he asked. (Will he be okay?) I didn't answer for a moment. Instead, I picked the southern Italian up like a baby and started heading towards where the other nations were.

"Ya. He'll be fine," I replied. He only nodded his head and followed me like a lost puppy. We made it back to meeting room in a few minutes. My bruder looked over when we walked into the room.

"What happened? Is he alright?" he asked. He seemed worried. I looked down at the younger country in my arms and smiled.

"He will be," I replied.