Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Copyrights go to Hidekaz Himaruya.
This is my first shot at a genuine crossover.
As always, reviews = love. They keep me writing.
Enjoy!~

Cheating Death

Cloudy iceberg eyes stared down the double barrel of the unyielding shotgun in his calloused hands, his right index finger poised above the trigger. He kept his aim steady on his albino older brother about ten feet in front of him—Prussia's head would be situated in-between his figurative crosshairs. "How could you declare war on me, Bruder? After all that we've done for each other… after everything that we've gone through together? Why did this happen?" The straight-laced platinum blonde questioned, fighting to keep the mixture of raw emotions ravaging his brain out of his voice.

Prussia's fingers tensed around the argentine, quick-fire pistol in his right hand and the switchblade in his left, raising the compact gun to point at Germany. "You abandoned me, Bruder! I was pushed off to the side after that verdammt Italien forced his way into your life, demanding to form an alliance with you, and even still he hasn't left you alone! I'm no longer important to you compared to him!" His voice cracked on a few words as he shouted, all of the pent-up anger that he had bottled away for countless years finally unleashed, decimating his collected tone. "And you need to see that for yourself…!"

Germany's expression broke as his grip on the gun tightened, careful not to accidentally squeeze the trigger. "You're wrong, Gilbert! You are a complete idiot if you've let yourself believe that! You will never understand how much you mean to me because it is difficult for me to readily express my emotions, and you should know that! How did you ever convince yourself of that scheiße...? I don't understand it."

"Have you ever understood anything, kleine Bruder? Kesesese… it doesn't matter either way! You are mine!" Prussia bellowed as he took aim and shoved the trigger back, a fat bullet exploding from its chamber.

"NO!" A soprano screech pierced the tense air above the battlefield and before Germany could react the scarlet-haired Italian dove in front of him, standing on his tiptoes for a fraction of a second before the stringent bullet ripped through the cerulean fabric and pallid flesh that stood as his only bodily defense, lodging itself centimeters away from his oscillating heart.

His keening cry of agony severed the strings that fastened Germany's heart in his chest as Italy crumpled against the obsidian soil, already supersaturated with blood from the lifeless soldiers piled around them. The serious blonde's knees buckles as he willingly crashed to the ground, one arm hooking behind Italy's neck to support his head while the other steadied the shotgun still pointed at his snowy-haired brother, his pointer finger trembling against the icy steel of the trigger. "Italy…" Germany murmured, his periphery shifting from the volatile ex-nation across the field to the face of the man that had become his first friend and lover in the fleeting time that their lives had intersected. "you didn't have to do this. I should have taken that hit."

Italy's narrow frame trembled against Germany's arm as he shook his head erratically, descending into a coughing fit before mustering what little strength he had left to speak. "No, G-Germany! I h-had to do t-this for you. I p-promised you that I would serve as cannon f-fodder if you n-needed it…. I was s-simply fulfilling my d-duties to you…!"

"That was so long ago, Italy…!" Germany muttered, his eyes shining with tears that had begun to well behind his azure irises. "This can't happen to you. You're not supposed to die on a battlefield… you're just not cut out for it… this is wrong."

Crimson blood snaked through the cobalt fibers of Italy's military jacket as the same hue tainted his lips after coughing once more. "I-It doesn't matter right now, Germany. I'm just happy… that I was able to meet you… and spend time with you. I'm able to die in peace because of you, no matter where or when it happens." His hand reached toward Germany's chest, a feeble fist balling around a handful of the other's army-green jacket. "I know I was a burden, but… grazie for putting up with me for so long… ti amo, mia Germania…."

In the blink of an eye, the fire of life that brightened Italy's topaz eyes fizzled out, his head falling limp against the crook of Germany's arm. Carmine-hued life force that once pumped through the redhead now coated his dodger blue uniform. Even the curl that stuck out defiantly on the left side of his head seemed to droop; Germany knew that his Italian had vacated the realm in which he found himself trapped, though he couldn't fully comprehend it. "Ich liebe dich, mein Italien…." he leaned down and whispered into the olive-toned shell of Italy's ear before laying his head gently against the ground and straightening, his frigid gaze turning once again to his brother.

Prussia's grating laugh echoed around the still battlefield as he stepped closer to Germany, the pistol that stole Italy's life away still raised, its cyclops barrel espying the direct center of the blonde's broad chest. "Count yourself lucky, Bruder! If it weren't for your 'friend'"—the air quotation gesture that Prussia did only aided to set Germany's blood boiling—"you would be in that position right now instead of him! And that's just how I like it… see? I got my little ol' West back and I got rid of that stupid annoyance that wasted decades of your life! It's really a win-win situation, ja?"

"Nein," Germany growled as he threw himself onto Prussia, the crook of his arm latching around the albino's neck while his free hand wrestled the pistol out of his grasp, pointing the treasonous barrel against the hollow of Prussia's shoulder and popping the trigger. "This should keep you busy for a while…."

The saffron-haired country relinquished his hold on his writhing brother screaming in agony as he padded over to Italy, crouching down as fingertips as soft as a newborn dove's wings ghosted across his supple cheek, taking notice that his skin had yet to lose its warmth. He slid one arm under Italy's thin shoulders as the other curved around his knees, lifting up the slack country with ease. A lone tear broke free of the mental dam that arrayed his emotions, streaking down his cheek and landing against Italy's exposed throat. He should be laid to rest… in his home country. Germany's chest shuddered with the heavy sigh that escaped him as he began to pace to the south, his back turned forever to his older brother that served as his only blood-related family.

"Hey you! Mister… ah… Germany! Wait up!" A foreign, moderately-toned voice rung out in the stale air that reeked of iron and salt, successfully halting the flaxen-haired country in his tracks as his eyes darted upward to the limitless expanse of sky blanketed by salt and pepper clouds.

"What…?" Germany mumbled under his breath as a formidable, dandelion-hued cloud shot across the space a few feet above his head, slowing to a stop and floating down to earth. His cornflower eyes bulged as he scrutinized the cloud-mounted newcomers, recognizing one of the two people in front of him.

The raven hair of the one that he didn't recognize stuck out at gravity-defying angles, with four spikes jutting out on one side of his head, three on the other and bangs that covered his forehead. He dressed in an orange, Oriental-style sleeveless uniform, a royal blue t-shirt underneath and a belt of the same color fastened around his waist, cloth bands wrapped around his wrists, and tied boots covering his feet. The one that he did recognize, however, perched on his knees with his hands resting in his lap, fingers laced together, wearing a traditional dark-toned yukata with silver embellishments: it was none other than his friend, Japan. He held up a hand in greeting, a placid smile upturning his lips as the unknown man stepped off of the cloud hovering about half a foot off the ground and stepped closer to Germany, a hand extending and clutching the blonde's shoulder in consolation. "I heard from my buddy Japan over there that you've been having a rough time, and I thought I could lend a hand if you'll let me. My name is Son Goku, but I usually just go by Goku."

Germany studied the steady midnight of Goku's eyes warily. "Well met, Goku, but I'm not sure how exactly you can help me." His periphery shifted over to Japan. "And how did you find out about… this, Japan?"

Japan spoke first, straightening to his feet and hopping down off of the mystical cloud as he strode forward, stopping to stand beside Goku. "It wasn't all of my doing. Goku told me that he sensed someone's power level fading somewhere nearby, and I asked him if he could take me when he went to find out who was in trouble. Italy had told me this morning that Prussia had declared war on you, and that your battle would take place today, so I had my suspicions."

"A-Ah," Germany nodded, gritting his teeth momentarily at the mention of Italy's name as his eyes bolted back to Goku's face. "I will accept your help, though… what do you have in mind?"

Goku cleared his throat as he shot a meaningful glance to Japan before he launched into his explanation. "There are these things called Dragon Balls in my world that allow a person to summon the dragon Shenron and make a wish. The wish could consist of anything you could think of really, as long as it isn't beyond the powers of the creator of the Dragon Balls. But anyway, what I'm trying to say is that it's possible to bring Italy back."

"And this… this is foolproof? These Dragon Balls?" Hope dawned behind Germany's irises as Japan rummaged through a hidden pocket, extracting seven amber-colored balls that resembled oversized marbles, each ornamented with deep cardinal stars that ranged in number from one to seven.

The shorter Asian country set to work assembling each of the Dragon Balls on the ground as Goku nodded. "Yup! I'm living proof of that—the first time I died, my friends on Earth brought me back using the Dragon Balls. A few of them have even been brought back as well."

"This is… weird, but I will trust you," Germany stated. "Do I have to do anything?"

"Yeah," Goku affirmed, pacing around Germany and prodding his back until he took a few steps closer to the Dragon Balls. "You have to call the dragon Shenron by chanting, 'Come out, Shenron, and grant my wish!' until the sky goes completely black. Then you just make your wish and your friend should come back to life after a few minutes."

Germany nodded, his eyes trailing down to the Dragon Balls placed on the ground in front of him as Japan straightened and stood beside his former ally. "Come out, Shenron, and grant my wish!" The champagne-haired country began to chant.

The sky and scenery that surrounded Germany suddenly faded to the purest pitch black as a bright citrine light illuminated the spheres in front of him, shooting heavenward. The end of the light began to morph into the unmistakable head of a regal dragon before it erupted, bathing everything in golden light; a hulking viridian dragon hovered above Germany as the light faded, its faceted ruby eyes surveying the three living Earthlings. "I shall grant you one wish," the ethereal being growled, its voice booming in the still air. "Speak now."

"Shenron…!" Germany shouted, his eyes meeting the pupil-less lava optics of the dragon, "Please, can you revive my friend here… Italy?"

Shenron nodded, clasping his claws together before holding his scaly palms toward Germany, "Your wish shall be granted…" his voice mimicked rolling thunder as the same light that engulfed everything earlier burst from the dragon, blinding all for a few moments until the landscape returned to its usual luminescence.

Clouds no longer cloaked the vermilion sky accented with wisteria streaks that beckoned the setting sun. It seemed as if everyone held their breath, three pairs of eyes glued to the crumpled Italian in Germany's arms. The empty expression adorning Italy's face began to shift to a dreamlike appearance as his butterscotch eyes opened fully, gazing upward into the endless oceanic pools that could only belong to Germany, in which concern and turmoil frolicked. "Germany," Italy murmured sleepily, a hand flitting to his face to rub his eyes like a child waking from a restful nap, "you look really sad, what's wrong? And why's Japan here? Where are we? And who's the other guy…?"

A grin wider than Italy had ever witnessed spread across Germany's face as he squeezed the fragile redhead, planting a firm kiss on the center of his forehead. "I'll explain everything later… it's a little complicated to understand right now. All that matters is that you're alright." He gestured to Goku, who stood behind him. "That there is Goku, one of Japan's friends… he saved you."

Italy squirmed until Germany set him down, treading over to Goku and throwing his arms around him. "Grazie! Even though I'm not really sure what happened… but that can come later!"

An amused chuckle resonated in Goku's throat, patting Italy's head as the shorter country returned to Germany's side, finding his hand and clutching it securely. Goku flashed a triumphant thumbs-up, coming to stand in-between Germany and Japan and wrapping an arm around both of them. "So! Now that everything's right in the world and stuff, can we go eat? I'm starving!"

Japan glanced at Germany, receiving a soft nod before he responded, "Hai. I suggest we visit one of America's buffets… that way Goku can eat his fill. But we should stop somewhere first so Italy can change his clothes."

Italy's eyes darted down to his blood-drenched uniform, horror playing across his face as his stomach flipped. "Y-Yes, that's a good idea, and then we eat! Yay! …Wait, do buffets have pasta?"

Goku towed them over to his cloud as Japan lithely hopped on, returning to the spot that he had occupied earlier. "Of course they do. They have… a lot… of food," he remarked, a distant look appearing in his chocolate eyes.

Germany cautiously climbed onto the cloud, perching beside Japan and pulling Italy into his lap as Goku leapt on board. "Is this thing safe?" his brows furrowed as he poked the fluffy, sunflower-yellow cloud underneath him.

"Of course it is! Just don't panic, okay? It's a little weird getting used to flying at first but it's awesome, trust me! Now let's go… hang on tight!" Goku instructed, flashing them a pearly grin that evoked confidence.

The cloud rose a few feet off of the ground before shooting toward the west, pushed to fly faster than before by Goku's grumbling black hole of a stomach.

Fin.

Translations (if needed):
Verdammt = Damn (German)
Scheiße = Shit (German)
Kleine = Little (German)
Grazie = Thank you (Italian)
Ti amo, mia Germania = I love you, my Germany (Italian)
Ich liebe dich, mien Italian = I love you, my Italy (German)