Part One

Italy (October (ish), 1945-7 (also ish))

It was a cold, cloudy day and he had on a thick jacket to block out the wind. He shivered as he looked around, worried that somebody had followed him. He had snuck away and he still wasn't quite sure how he had managed it.

He knew he wasn't supposed to be there. He was supposed to stay away and listen to what the Allies told him. They told him that he and Germany weren't in an alliance anymore. They told him he wasn't an Axis anymore, which made him sad beyond belief. He knew that there weren't really any Axis powers left, but in his head the alliance between him, Germany and Japan still existed, even if they had lost the war. Even if Germany, infallible, strong Germany had been forced to surrender. That still really blew his mind. He knew he gave up and surrendered all the time, it was normal for him.

For Germany though, it was not normal. It had only happened a few months ago, but for him it felt like only a day. It only felt like a week ago that he himself had surrendered and technically became an "Allied Force". He hadn't wanted to surrender, for once. He had known that Germany and Japan would go on fighting, and he had wanted to help. It was odd, because it was Germany who had finally convinced him.

"I can't let you be hurt; you need to get out of this war, while you can." Germany had said to him right before he gave himself up to the Allies. Even then, he had still thought there was hope for Germany and Japan to win, or at least not lose. He wasn't sure how that would work, but he just couldn't picture it in his head. Them losing, that is. Then, Germany too, had been forced to surrender. Then, lastly Japan and the war was over. He still couldn't really believe it. Since their surrenders he hadn't seen either of them. He missed Japan, of course, but really it was the separation from Germany that tore him apart.

That was why, despite knowing he would get in trouble for it, he was standing outside of Germany's house. He was shocked at the way it looked. For as long as he had known Germany, which was quite a long time, at least as he saw it, the house had been in perfect order, lawn mowed, windows clean, everything in perfect order. Today, however it was in a state of disrepair and neglect. He was almost scared to continue inside. Scratch that, he was scared to go in. He had wanted to come, badly, and it had been bad enough that he found a way to get past the Allies to get here. But now that he was here, he wasn't sure.

It occurred to him that he really should have paid attention more. In the time since the war ended, he had been incredibly sad and had blocked nearly everything out. To the point that he didn't even know what the decisions for the end of the war were. He knew that he was going to have to pay lots of reparations, and he assumed it would be the same for the other Axis powers, but now, he wasn't so sure. He had come here for a reason, though and he would go in. He gathered what courage he had, which wasn't much, and walked up to the front door and knocked on it.

He waited a few moments and there was no answer. Now he was really scared. He tried again, but still there was no answer. He bit his lip and looked around, unsure of what to do. It hadn't really occurred to him that Germany might not be here. Then again, he had come all this way, and he had risked so much already, he had to make sure. He tried the door handle. To his surprise, it was open. He walked inside and peered around.

Inside, the house looked like it always had. Perfectly clean and organized, not a thing out of place, but it felt odd. Germany's house always had felt clean, but lived in and full of energy. Now, it felt like nobody lived here, it felt neglected, forgotten. All the lights were off and it was dark inside. He flicked on the light switch next to the front door and glanced around. Now, he was really sure Germany wasn't here, but he had come this far and he wanted to see the rest of the house to make sure. He went through every room, turning the light on, looking around and then moving to the next room.

In every room, there was nothing, except the same feeling of emptiness. Eventually, he had checked every room on the first floor. He still wasn't done though, even if he wanted to be. He stood at the top of the stairs to the basement, unsure if he should continue. He had only been in the basement a few times before and he was pretty sure Germany wouldn't be down there. It wasn't a nasty, old basement or anything, it was finished and nice, but it was just an extra living room and bedroom. Germany used it as extra space for his brother, Prussia to stay in when he came over.

Then he heard a noise, like somebody moving around, and he knew he was going to have to check down there too. Feeling very much like an intruder, he went down the steps. The lights were off down here too, and at the bottom of the stairs he turned on the living room lights. Even here, there was nobody; just the couches, a TV, and a pile of blankets on the biggest couch. He sighed and was about to go back up the stairs when he heard a small noise, like a painful exhalation of breath from behind him.

He quickly turned around and he heard it again. He was able to tell where it was coming from, this time though. It had come from the pile of blankets. He quietly went over to the pile and from a closer angle he could see very clearly what had made the noises. A very tousled blonde-haired head stuck out from under the blanket. He relaxed a bit, the head was Germany and he had finally found him. He didn't want to wake him up though, so he sat down next to the couch to wait. He looked at Germany and his nervousness returned. Germany looked terrible, he looked like he was sick, and he had a nasty bruise on his cheek.

Italy jumped when Germany made another painful, breathy, noise, this time harsher than before. Then, Germany's face scrunched up like it was in pain, or he was angry, or both.

He started talking in his sleep, saying, "Nein, nein, nein…" and then, "Ich bin traurig….traurig….nein". Germany was getting more and more agitated in his sleep. He started tossing around and the emotions on his face became more and more scared and painful. Italy realized he was having a nightmare. He knew that Germany had nightmares, a lot. He remembered when they first started spending their nights together, the nightmares were really bad then.

However, the longer they were together, the more nights, the less the nightmares happened, until they didn't happen at all anymore… or a least they hadn't. He felt bad about waking Germany up, but he knew that was the best thing to do, since he was clearly having a really bad nightmare. He slowly reached over and shook Germany's shoulder. After a few seconds, Germany's bright ice blue eyes fluttered open. Italy watched as his eyes darted around, clearly confused.

Italy waited for Germany to realize where he was and be awake. He was a very deep sleeper and often was confused when he woke up. After a second, Germany's eyes locked onto Italy. Without a moment's hesitation, he reached out and pulled Italy in towards him with a happy exhalation, and a relived whisper of "Italy.". He of course let himself be drawn in and hugged. This was exactly what he had come for, to be near his Germany again. Italy sighed too and drew himself closer.

Italy went in to burry his face in Germany's shoulder, but then, Germany stiffened. He pushed Italy off of him, but kept a hand on Italy's shoulder as he looked at him with concern on his face.

"What's wrong?" Italy asked, nervously.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Germany asked with wide eyes. "You shouldn't be here! How did you get here?"

"Well, I wanted to see you, so I came. I know I'm not supposed to be here, but I don't care. Besides, it wasn't like it was that hard to sneak away from the Allies, they didn't watch me very well, they just assume I won't leave." Italy answered. This time, Germany really did push Italy all the way away from him. He sat up and pushed away the blankets he had been sleeping under.

"Italy! Do you have any idea how much of a bad idea that was? Do you even comprehend how much trouble you could get into? I thought I told you to get out while you could! Not get out and then come back!" Germany shouted. He tried to stand up, but as he did a look of extreme pain washed over his face and he collapsed, his hand clutched over his heart. Italy was next to him in seconds.

"Are you alright? What's wrong? What's wrong!" He asked, panicked. He had never seen Germany like this. He was used to him being strong. "Nothing." Germany answered gruffly, turning away. "Please don't be mad at me. I just wanted to see you. I miss you." Italy said, pleadingly. Germany sighed and looked at him, and when he did his expression softened. Italy relaxed and went to go back into that hug, but Germany stopped him.

"Nein, don't make this any harder than it has to be. You can't stay here, you need to leave. Soon."

"But, I came all this way. I'm not just going to leave. I had to make sure you were okay, and clearly you aren't. What happened?" He was so confused. What had he missed during those months?

Germany coughed a little and then looked Italy right in the eye. "How could you possibly not know? Didn't you pay attention to anything that happened after we lost?"

"I…" Italy began, but then didn't know how to finish.

"No?" Germany asked, one more time. Then he sighed, looking impossibly sad and tired. "It doesn't matter. What is done is done, and you need to go."

"How many times do I need to say I don't want to leave?" Italy said, and forcibly went back to hug Germany. For a few seconds, Germany resisted, then he exhaled and brought Italy closer, running his hands through Italy's hair. Italy sighed and brought his hands down to rest on Germany's chest. He ran his fingers over the place where Germany's heart was and felt something odd. Germany winced as he touched it.

"What's that?" He said, leaning back and pulling down on Germany's shirt. An angry red, scar ran up and down across the skin above his heart. Almost bisecting it perfectly. Two other lines rand diagonally off the first one, both on the left side of the first line, making the left side look as if it were made into three pieces.

"How did you get this?" Italy asked. It had never been there before, and although it was a scar, it was recent. Countries healed fast. Germany sighed, sadness in his eyes.

"I said it doesn't matter. Besides, I deserve it."

"Just tell me what happened." Italy nearly begged.

Germany looked Italy right in the eye. He sighed again, a rough ragged sound. "The allies split me up. Two parts. One half, going to America, France and England. The other, to Russia. The land, and my capitol, Berlin." He explained, pointing to each section of the scar in turn. "They even built a damn wall to keep them separated. I can't believe they didn't tell you."

"I didn't want to know." Italy said, scooting closer to Germany who gave him and unreadable look. He was confused. "So, does that mean there are two Germanys?" Italy asked, feeling a little stupid, "Like there are two Italys?"

Germany didn't say anything for a minute. "No, and you have to swear you won't tell anybody this." Italy nodded. Germany waited a minute, as if he was unsure to continue. "Another one of the Allies decisions was to dissolve Prussia." He stopped, and for a minute Italy wasn't sure he would go on. Then it was almost as if a tiny fire was lit in Germany's eyes. A tiny fire of determination… and desperation. "I just couldn't let that happen! So we made a plan, instead of another personification being born, or whatever would have happened, I'm not really sure what would have been worked out, I gave him the Eastern half. So he could stay alive." He sighed.

"He insisted he take the half that would belong to Russia…. I hope he's okay. I haven't seen him since…" Germany trailed off, and Italy was shocked to see just the tinniest glimmer of tears in eyes.

"Won't the Allies be mad?" Italy asked, afraid for Germany. He knew that if Germany got in any more trouble, he might not come out of it. "Well, eventually, but it's already too late. Besides, I don't care. There isn't much more they could do." Germany said and then a look of pain washed over his face and he closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch.

They could do more, Italy thought, they could kill you. The fire that had lit Germany up only moments before had been extinguished. Germany's eyes slowly opened. He looked right at Italy and ice met amber. Italy drew closer to him and breathed a sigh across Germany's neck. Germany went and put his arms around Italy. They both knew it was going no farther than those few touches. Germany was too weak and for the first time ever, Italy was worried about hurting him. It was enough for both of them just to be together again.

They stayed like that for a while, but far too soon, Germany pulled away.

"You have to leave. They are going to hurt you if they find out." Italy let out a breath. He didn't want to leave. He didn't care what happened. All that mattered was here and now and that they were together. Nothing was going to change that.

"No. I am not leaving. I may give up on a lot of things. I may not be that strong, but I am not going anywhere. No force on earth is going to get me to leave. I won't give up on us." Italy had no idea where that came from. He usually didn't have that kind of determination. He usually just gave in.

For a minute Germany said nothing. He was speechless. They just looked into each other's eyes for a moment.

"You have to. It's not.. We…. Aren't worth it." Germany sighed, "It's not worth you getting hurt." Silence hung in the room like a physical thing. "I'm not worth it." Germany looked down, breaking their stare.

A memory rose to Italy, unbidden, and sad. He remembered the last time he lost somebody. He had just given up; let that person walk out of his life, not looking back. He regretted every day what had happened. He went over and over in his head the things he could have done differently. Maybe said something, done something, anything, but he hadn't; he had given up, surrendered and it had broken him deep inside.

Sometimes he wondered if that was the reason he gave up so easily now, because he had then. It just didn't seem to matter anymore. He swore to himself that if anything like that ever happened again, he would do it different, he wouldn't give up.

Now, it seemed as if history had repeated itself, not the same situation, but all the same consequences. What he did now he could either regret or he could look back and know he made the right decision. He could give up and leave, maybe forever, or he could do whatever it took. He looked at Germany, who was looking down, away, anywhere but meeting Italy's eyes.

"Yes, you are. You are worth everything to me and I am not leaving. No matter what." Germany looked up and him, and for the briefest second their eyes met, but then he dropped his gaze again. Germany let out a breath and with any determination he had left looked Italy in the eye and gave him a glare.

"Maybe, I am worth everything to you; but you aren't worth everything to me. Has it occurred to you that maybe I just don't want you here and want you to leave?" Germany's voice grew and he drew himself up, trying to look imposing, like he used to be. The words cut Italy through like a sharp knife. Germany drew a ragged breath and continued.

"Maybe, I was just trying to let you down easy. Actually, not maybe. I was. I want you gone. We may have had something, but it's over now. You need to go back to the Allies, and leave me in peace. I don't want you here." Germany's hurtful words hit Italy like bullets, each and every one of them. He started to cry tears cascading down his cheeks, unchecked. Then he noticed, Germany was shaking. It was subtle and Italy was staggered by how thin and weak Germany looked, even though he was trying to look strong.

Italy threw his arms around Germany and said. "You are faking! I can tell when you lie to me, even if it hurts me. You are trying to protect me but for once, let it go! Let me be here for you." Italy was still crying and as he hugged Germany he wasn't really one hundred percent sure he was right, but he had an instinct and had gone for it.

For a moment nothing happened. Then Germany deflated, falling into Italy, tired and weak. A small tear left the corner of his eye.

"You don't have to be strong right now. You don't have to worry about what is happing outside this room. Just let us have one night together and we'll figure it out in the morning." Italy looked at Germany and even though another tear trailed down Germany's face, he said,

"Okay."