"Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day."

Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

"I surrender."

No, no. Please, heavens, no.

"No, Ludwig, please you can't! I'm sorry that I couldn't live up to my promise, please!"

"Shut up, Feliciano." Barked a new voice.

Feliciano could match up the voice to the face, Alfred. Despite his friendly demeanor after the first war and fighting with him then, Feliciano came to realize how scary the American actually was.

His sense of humor was replaced by malice and hunger for power. They were the eyes of pure intelligence, someone whose life had flashed right before his eyes with war and blood. Alfred in a sense reminded him in Ludwig.

Their eyes had the same emotions, sometimes.

Feliciano believed that Alfred didn't recognize these things though. Yes, Ludwig had had a rougher road then most of the other nations he had ever known. Constantly hated and watched on by the nation's surrounding him. But, also, that was like Alfred. Everyone thought he was dumb, idiotic, even hated because he just wanted to help. Both of them were misunderstood. Francis, Arthur, and Yao doubted Alfred.

But, Feliciano knew what he was really like. He had seen it. He and Ludwig shared the same hatred in their eyes.

Alfred's hatred was directed to a member of his own party, Ivan, while Ludwig's was directed at himself and his actions.

Ludwig had calmly been surrounded the other nations, his gun at his feet splattered with red liquid. His face was covered in smeared blood of his own, dirty (probably infected) cuts, scrapes that looked like they were burning. Ludwig was basically a train wreck.

After the turmoil that Ludwig had suffered for, Feliciano for the first time realized how tense his muscles were tense with worry, his eyes filled with fear. Fear of being at the mercy of the people had been fighting, fear that they might torture him, and that they might do things he regretted doing to them.

Feliciano could say he also had that fear as well. Yes, he had followed Ludwig and his friend had done most of the work.

He had done some horrible things as well.

And it had been out of their area to control. Countries cannot persuade the people's actions. The people's actions control the country.

"I'm sorry, Ludwig," Feliciano could open repeat to the other while Ivan gladly restrained the German while Arthur restrained him.

They were stronger than the both of them.

The other didn't seem to calculate the words.

September 3rd the Allies begun their invasion of Italy.

On September 8th of 1943, Italy had officially surrendered the war.

On the same day, the Germans had gone ahead with their invasion of Italy to keep it out of Allied hands while Italian troops begun to surrender to them.

May 7th two years later in 1945 did Germany surrender with four documents of surrender to the United States, Great Britain, Russia, and France.

Six days earlier, May 1st, German troops surrendered to the Allies in Italy.

Two years later and one day before the Allied had their invasion of Italy two years prior, Japan surrendered on September 2nd of 1945.

The world was a puzzle that needed solving afterwards, stained with the blood of their fallen and crushed dreams.

All three of them had been separated. Feliciano was forced to stay in a locked room. It had a nice view, located in England that overlooked a field with small buildings in the distance. There are guards that patrolled the perimeter. He wasn't sure why they would be stationed there; Feliciano wasn't a threat to anyone.

Arthur regularly came in to check on him and with reassuring words he would repeat, "Hold on Feliciano, you won't be in here forever."

For some reason, Feliciano believed him.

Francis was the only else who came and struck up a conversation with him.

They sat in the two chairs propped up against the window to look at the weather. Usually it was rainy, so they looked at the distant roads to see if anyone was running home to find cover. Also watching the guards freak out when there was an unfamiliar noise. It passed the time, having company.

Feliciano missed Ludwig dearly. No one could replace him.

His only true friend, a craving inside of him that had been nagging at him, telling him that Ludwig was not all right, but he refused to acknowledge it.

The only time he had heard yelling was Alfred.

He had been swearing, but using an American dialect that he couldn't really tell what he was saying. Maybe that was the point?

Otherwise, there was no sound besides the guards outside milling accompany tap of the combat boots echoing across the floorboards from the guards protecting the rooms.

So, the Italian would sit by the windowsill and gaze out. It was calm. Not an unsettling calm, no, not yet.

Three days he had been in this room.

Possibly longer, it felt much longer. It felt like three months. England was boring and constantly raining. Yes, there were books in here to give him company with their stories, but it wasn't the same. There was no human companionship.

Of course, nothing would ever be the same. And when left with so many racing thoughts, Feliciano occasionally caved in to some of them.

"Feliciano," a calm voice said as they pushed open the door and a head peeked out from the white door, Francis.

No one had visited him today besides to give meals. The Allies seemed busier then normal.

Feliciano turned his head from looking at the window as he perched on his new bed, meeting eyes with the blond.

"Si?"

"Alfred wanted me to collect your personal possessions."

Oh. Feliciano didn't have any personal possessions, but he understood. His head cocked over to his uniform that lay discarded over the trunk at the end of the bed.

It was decorated with military medals; especially ones that Ludwig had given him. They probably meant those. And the necklace he kept around his neck, the iron cross that Ludwig had given to him.

It hurt Feliciano to know they wanted to get rid of anything tying him to his friend- his closet friend. It was painful, but if he did this now, he could maybe keep his own badges to keep something that reminded him of Ludwig.

The last his piece he had of him to hang onto. Ludwig would never be the same person he knew ever again.

The Allies were going to change him, and Feliciano was scared that Ludwig wouldn't recognize him, love him, or even like him. Or that Ludwig would disappear entirely.

Ludwig had already not been able to recognize him a long time ago. Nine hundred years ago he had started loving him, and now history was going to repeat that. It had been painful as a child, now it was just be worse because now he knew the process. It was too familiar.

The Italian silently obeyed, jumping from the bed and over to the uniform as Francis stood in the doorway with observant eyes. His shaking hands fumbled with the pins, tears blurring his vision. "Hold on, I'm sorry Francis, I've never removed any of them before-"

"Take your time, Feli," the Frenchman replied, taking a step into the room and heading towards the window.

Like as everyday it was dark, cold, and halcyon out there.

Feliciano was nothing but calm. He did not want to part with some silly objects. Ludwig had pinned them onto his uniform himself, strong hand yet gentle and a bit clumsy because he knew those hands didn't want to hurt him.

In Feliciano's mind, he could feel those hands. He longed to, and imagining them was second best.

He collected the numerous badges on the top of the trunk before folding up the uniform, speckled with Italian badges instead. Francis wasn't looking. Feliciano couldn't help but slip the smallest one into his back pocket.

Francis took them. He wasn't happy, content, or sad.

It was pity in his eyes. Pity for the suffering that Ludwig put him through. But, Feliciano knew that he didn't want their pity. He did it. He wanted to be with Ludwig.

"I'll come back for your Italian badges as well."

The Italian was okay with that. They were fascist medals, he would be happy to see them metaling them down. They could be melted down for much better things, like maybe ever part of a swing set for a child. Better than collecting dust.

But before leaving, Francis said, "Feliciano, we'll be needing your necklace as well. You aren't Ludwig's pawn anymore, you shan't be wearing it anymore."

A week of complete isolation was terrifying. Now the calmness was starting to be unsettling.

Francis and Arthur were the only ones that seemed to care enough to come and visit.

The iron cross was no longer upon his neck. He continually reached to his neck to touch it's cold metal. But, nothing had reached his fingers. It was his last memo to Ludwig. He was reduced to nothing besides a ache in his heart.

Today, Arthur seemed to enjoy visiting more.

"Feliciano?" Arthur knocked on the door as a warning before stepping into the room and spotting the brunet sitting on the bed with a book in his hand. He placed it down as the Brit took a seat next to him.

"Si?"

"Be glad you're not out there, Alfred and Ivan keep arguing over Gilbert and Ludwig it's hectic-"

"Are they hurting him…?" Feliciano stared at Arthur intently with those wide, innocent brown eyes.

Arthur couldn't help but feel bad for Feliciano. The kid was too innocent yet he had seen so many things. It was amazing, but also terrifying that he had remained that way for a long time. He didn't want to trouble the other. He had gone through living hell. His loyalty to the damn Kraut had caused Italian so pain.

He couldn't help but notice the way Ludwig looked at Feliciano, it was something he hadn't seen most of his life, especially in Ludwig's eyes that reflected in Feliciano's as well. He knew how important they were to each other, mentally and physically.

Even when Alfred had been interrogating Ludwig on stupid question, when a Feliciano question arose, worry slid into the German's face.

Arthur had hesitated too long.

Feliciano's expression drew wider, his hands gripping the sheets and turning white. "Please don't tell me they'll hurt Ludwig. Oh my god- they'll torture him! T-They'll do horrifying things to him, please Arthur, you need to save him-"

Arthur desperately waved his hands. "No, no, Feliciano. He's alright…"

That was lie. Ludwig wasn't exactly in the best health conditions at the moment. They had already lowered Ludwig's industrial production to it's lowest and at the range it was during the Great Depression.

Francis seemed intent on pursuing that it kept lowering while Alfred had been busy questioning Ludwig for the week and a half. Not to mention all the armed forces had been abolished completely. The German was an utter wreck.

"Alfred is just going through questioning him."

Some tension lifted from Feliciano's face.

"Can I please see him, Arthur? He's my best friend."

The Brit bit down lightly on his lip before pausing in breathing. "I can't, Feliciano. Ludwig's unstable. He's war-torn, confused, and angry. He would lash out at you."

The air grew cold.

"Arthur…?"

"Yes, Feliciano?" He turned his head to the window, a cool breeze ruffling the curtains open and sending a current of damp, fresh air.

"Do you think that he'll ever be my friend again?" The brunet had said it in such an anxious tone. A heartbreaking question that Arthur needed to think about before he dared to answer.

"This is just a rough patch for him."

The Italian picked at the sheets with his finger nails, what seemed to be like he was trying to pull the threads apart.

"Do you have to go soon?" He asked.

The blond nodded a bit. "Francis and Alfred will start to wonder what I'm telling you. I have business to attend to, but I can talk for a little while longer. It's relaxing in here, though."

"Yes, but I have one other question for you before you have to go," Feliciano said, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly, perhaps a smile? It even made Arthur's eyes brighten a bit. He hadn't seen the other smile since… He wasn't…He wasn't sure.

"Will he remember me?"

"I think he will."

Arthur had seen it before. When a connection is strong enough, it remains through death. It made him smile slightly when he noticed that Feliciano never realized that the Italian had witnessed it himself.

Gilbert had been in not good condition when he arrived at the headquarters in northern England. Arthur was wary of having all these people here, constantly feeding them with little food they had anyways.

The only thing Arthur enjoyed doing about making his rounds and making sure that the Axis nations didn't succumb to their insanity, especially Ludwig, was visiting Feliciano every day to give him three meals as well as keep the other company.

He could see the emotional toll and damage behind the Italian's eyes.

He didn't realize that Feliciano had suffered when they are actually fighting each other, yes his nation had taken a great smack to the face and such, but the kid's boss hadn't been so harsh on the personification as much as Ludwig's has.

But honestly, that wasn't saying much. All of their bosses has been demanding in the situation.

Now was much better, though, and his curiosity got the best with him as he held out the dinner plate to the small, auburn haired young man sitting on the bed dressed in white sheets.

"Feliciano, don't try to hide it, I can see the pain in your eyes," Arthur mumbled, placing the fork onto the plate with a clink.

Feliciano's hands recoiled since they were stretched out to grab the plates. His emotions conveyed being flabbergasted to dying out to silence.

The Brit didn't mind carrying on the conversation, if it was of importance. This was.

"Tell me Feliciano," he took a seat next to the other, placing the plate on the small Italian's lap, "tell me what happened that hurt you. It will help, if you get it out."

Feliciano's head turned from his gaze on the blond before looking down at his shaking hands in his lap. He knew Arthur wasn't this gentle with anyone else.

Arthur understood what he went through. Little did he know where or when Arthur had gotten that understanding from.

His mouth was dry, Feliciano didn't give himself time to think out an answer. He let the words flood out, letting emotions guide him rather than the story itself. Hopefully Arthur would be able to keep up with his ramblings.

"It was… March 23rd, 1944, so last year." Feliciano began, his eyes distant and looking towards the opposite wall of the room.

Arthur knew where this going. Something had happened in Italy last year. He knew it had been bad, but the Brit wasn't sure what had happened to Feliciano from it.

"Ludwig and I had been at my home, a little bit outside of Rome. Until someone came by and told us that there had been an attack on some of the German Army by a couple of Italian veterans who had been fighting against Ivan," Feliciano's voice cracked. "Explosions and everything. Ludwig… He had been so troubled when the boy told us, he wanted me to arrest these people…"

"But you didn't," Arthur inputted.

Feliciano let out a shaky sigh and nodded his head in agreement, his amber eyes gliding to the window.

"The next day, three hundred and thirty-five men had their heads shot off. All because Ludwig's boss didn't want any more problems…"

His eyes were gathering tears and his words becoming shaky. Feliciano could relive that day; it would play over and over in night terrors. They would never end.

"Ludwig had urged me not to go. I should of listened to him," the Italian created a broken smile on his face, "I should of listened to him…"

Silence filled the room as Arthur watched as the Italian's hands went to his head and pulled at his locks.

"Ludwig. I need to see Ludwig." Feliciano said emotionlessly.

"Feli-" But the Italian had gripped onto the side of the bed and looked like he was reaching for the lamp.

"I will break myself out, Arthur, I need to see him… Even if he's changed…"

Feliciano's voice held no hope but a threatening sound. Ominous if he had ever heard it coming from one of the Italian brothers. His hand gripped onto the lamp and brought it up, to strike it down on himself.

"Lovino… I need him."

Arthur immediately stood up and quickly grabbed the lamp from Feliciano's grasp, but before he could get a firm hold on it, the object crashed to the ground, sending glass everywhere.

Feliciano stared wide-eyed down at the broken object.

He hadn't realized…

He only wanted to see his family and friend. It was tearing him apart. Tears streamed down his eyes as his knees buckled weakly under his legs. He couldn't talk about the war. He never wanted to talk about it ever again.

The glass prickled at the fabric on his knees, cutting them a bit and enough to let them bleed. It hurt but it was nothing compared to the emotional toll. He really needed his brother or Ludwig, they were his rock, and right now he was drifting lost in an ocean with no anchor.

"Guards!" Arthur shouted, gripping under Feliciano's armpits to hoist the other up and dragged him away from the majority of the glass.

It clung to his clothing along with the crystal clear edges of the glass dotted with the other's blood. The Italian seemed extremely out of it, his eyes were hazy and there were tears that continuously poured down his face.

Arthur continued to pull him away before lifting the other onto one of the seats and give him a pat on the shoulder to make sure that Feliciano didn't get too far away from him.

Soon the guards came and gently escorted the brunet out. Feliciano was not aware what was going on. He just wanted to sleep and never wake up. He wanted to fall asleep besides Ludwig, the smell of him, and the warmth radiating off of him.

Feliciano was aware of when the medics had started pulling out the bits of glass that had been embedded into his skin and when they dabbed the anti-infection chemicals on it as well.

Arthur made sure he was the one to bring the Italian back to his room.

Feliciano had regained his normal behavior but was still slightly distant. The Brit could accept that.

"Wake up Feliciano, dammit," a familiar voice snapped as Feliciano was rocked awake.

He blinked the thick sleep out of his eyes and locked onto the darker amber pair above us.

"Lovino?" Feliciano bolted upright, latching onto his brother.

"Yeah, yeah, okay enough with the hugging," the Southern complained, patting Feliciano's back awkwardly. It was nice listening to the other speak their native language.

The younger brother pulled away after a while, scrambling in the sheets and crossing his legs, large amber eyes looking at him. Lovino was glad. They hadn't changed from the last time he had seen him. "How come you didn't come sooner?"

"Antonio told me I should wait. He more like didn't even let me out of his sight not to mention that stupid Alfred 'didn't want any visitors'," he growled, mockingly doing air quotes.

Lovino continued. "By the way, I brought you a newspaper. I was right. I told Antonio those damn fucks wouldn't have given you any updates on the news."

Feliciano took the newspaper gently from his brother's hand to read the headline. Little did the Italian know that his older brother and Antonio had gone through the paper and took out all the articles that he probably wouldn't be able to handle. They did leave out most of the articles about Germany for Feliciano's sake.

The most comforting thing about the newspaper was that it was written in Italian. He hadn't seen his native language these past eleven days.

Feliciano's eyes grazed the titles before looking up at his brother.

"Why did they let you come see me now? Nothing looks better then it did when they brought me here…"

"Feliciano, I have some bad news." Lovino said, pulling away. He walked to the window, looking outside.

"I know you and that damn potato bastard share some kind of relationship," he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He's not doing as good as they expected. They wanted me to tell you because they obviously know you're friends with the kraut."

An uncomfortable anxiousness grew inside of his stomach.

"What…what happened to Ludwig?"

Lovino walked back over to him, pulling him into a hug.

"They divided Germany up."

"W-What?" Feliciano stammered and squirmed under Lovino's grip.

Oh my god, the Allies, they're going to get rid of Germany all together. He's not going to exist anymore- oh my god, no. Ludwig can't disappear… I can't loose Ludwig… He's my best friend… No… What if they'll do that to Lovino and I?

I can't loose Lovi… It would be like Grandfather Roma all over again… He's the only family I have! They might take both Lovino and Ludwig. I would kill myself if they did that… Please… Don't be dead, Ludwig… And stay safe forever Lovi. I love you so much.

In response, Lovino's tightened. He waited until Feliciano stopped trying to escape from him, loosening his grip but not entirely. He still couldn't let him get away. Once he heard Feliciano start to sob, his frail, war battered body trembling from the sobs that were racking his body.

Feliciano got control of himself when the crying died down. Everything was numb but he was glad it had been Lovino telling him. His brother was here and right now that was all that mattered.

The comfortable silence was interrupted here and there by the swishes of the winds and birds singing outside the window.

"Is he alive…?"

"I don't know, Feli."

"Brother?"

"Yes?" Lovino sighed.

Feliciano inhaled sharply. He detached himself from his brother, lying down onto his pristine white sheets, staring up at the ceiling. He looked too pale for his own good.

"Whom was he divided to?"

"Alfred, Arthur, and Francis."

"Oh."

"Gilbert's alive though. Ivan took him."

Feliciano frowned. As much as he loved Ludwig, he loved his brother Gilbert as well. The Prussian had asked him out on a date once but he had declined. Gilbert hadn't seemed to down in the dumps for being rejected to Feliciano's surprise. Ludwig had always spoke highly of Gilbert even though he commonly used the words irritating, obnoxious, and a show-off, when Ludwig was feeling particularly stressed, Feliciano would ask the German to regale him with stories about Gilbert.

Ludwig would always be happy to talk to him about his brother. He told him stories about when he was young and Gilbert had always been there for him. Or even one time that he made Ludwig sit through his own class of 'Awesome War Strategies'. During the war when Feliciano had seen Gilbert in action, he could clearly notice the connection between Ludwig's intelligence and that he got it from Gilbert, even though people mostly thought of him as possibly a drunkard and too self-centered. Ludwig wasn't like that. Therefore, neither was his brother.

"I'm sorry Feli," the darker brunet grumbled as he stood.

"Will I see you later, fratello?" Feli questioned. He switched back to English since the other was leaving his room; better have the Allies know that he wasn't keeping any secrets from them. It wouldn't take them much to pry the knowledge out of him either.

"Of course."

And with that, the room echoed with the click of dress shoes before the definite shut of a door.

Notes:

Hey there whoever is reading this, but this is literally my first post-WW2 fanfiction. I haven't seen this many around unless there's a secret stash I wasn't aware of. I wanted to explore the Cold War as well as West Germany and East Germany. As well as the reconstruction of Italy will be another main point in the story. I mainly want to focus this on Europe's reconstruction as well as America's and the Soviet Union's threats of another war. When saying this, I will not be focusing on Japan.

I don't have that much knowledge of post-World War Two, so I will have to go check historical websites and stuff, so if you have a good one feel free to share it with me. So, I use Wikipedia, History Channel, and museum websites focused on World War Two.

I want to alert you on the passage and time. Because everyone was getting used to the war being over and the starting of strict rules placed on Germany and such, I will mash the history together and speed up the time a little bit so if something happens in two weeks but in actual history it may have taken a year, my apologies. Most likely the story will start out with a weird flow of time, but once we get deeper, I'll adjust it so it fits correctly.

I also want to address I am not going to cover up prejudices from this time like racial discrimination and etc. therefore, yes, there will be mentions of fascism, Nazism, militarism, slurs, and other things that existed during that time. POW camps and others like that will not be mentioned much in the story (may be hinted to) since this fanfiction isn't focused on things that did happen in the war, but the suffering nations went through afterwards. Things like political breakdowns, 1940s-50s slang, and just being rude to each other in general will also be in here.

But, I hope you enjoy and thank you. Kind reviews are lovely :) It keeps my drive for the story going.

"They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don't think it's possible for you to miss me as much

as I'm missing you right now."

Edna St. Vincent Millay