A/N - And it's back! I know it's Saturday that I'm posting the first chapter, and not Friday like I said, but every chapter after this will be on very late Fridays/very early Saturdays.

Hopefully we have a better journey than we did before! I made sure to follow the advice I had been given ^^

Enjoy and please review!

New York City, New York, U. S. A.

New York City was beautiful.

It was busy and dangerous and exciting and…

And Romano felt somewhat at home.

It was from head to toe, though, that he knew he wished he were back home. Whether it be in Verona or Benevento, whether he be snugly buried underneath his warm blankets or balanced on an aging rooftop to watch the stars, he just wanted to be home. New York City was something that should be an ocean away, several photographs he captured perfectly on his phone's camera.

He just… had a bad feeling. It was something he couldn't name.

The stations of the subways were cold, no difference to the ground he walked on above where he was then. The freezing air ate through the soles of his shoes, forced his hands to the crumb-ridden depths of his coat pockets with his left pressed to the smooth case of his cellphone.

Italy was somewhere, that much was certain.

His lovable twit of a brother was either fluttering ahead of him, looking as though he had never been in a subway station before; beside him, latched onto Romano's arm and chittering about seeing the Statue of Liberty again; or nowhere to be seen at all.

It only bothered him even more.

"Damned idiot, be it his fault and not mine if he misses the subway." Romano grumbled under his breath. Lies, to try and drown out that nagging feeling.

But then Italy darted in front of him, out from a mass of people. He quickly freed a hand, closing his nimble fingers tightly around his brother's arm and yanking him back beside him.

"Damnit to hell-! There you are! Walk beside me, you spaz!" he snapped.

Italy whirled on his brother and gasped with relief.

"Ah, fratello! I… I thought I lost you for a minute." he breathed.

They continued walking, Romano hesitant with his response.

His brother sounded so relieved at being found by who he was looking for. It wasn't how he normally went about such things. He shook his head, stole a glance, and sighed.

"You couldn't lose me," Romano eventually found himself saying in a soft murmur, his lips pursing. "We're like glue."

Italy's eyes glittered.

Their shoes continued to scuff across the stone ground, avoiding the occasional faded stain. Italy began to speak again, his gestures small like his smile. Maybe they could dine in Little Italy, explore Central Park, do the things they had always done before when they were in New York.

As he continued to his destination, his phone buzzed with the notification of a text from Spain asking as to where they were. It took seconds to reply, We're waiting for the subway, and to pocket his phone.

"I'm going to go use the bathroom real quick," Italy suddenly alerted. "We still have ten minutes, be back before then!"

And Italy was gone before Romano could utter a reply.

His stomach twisted. He willed himself to check Tumblr. To text Spain. To start listening to music. A bomb was ticking, he just couldn't sense it.

Romano took out his earbuds from his inside jacket pocket. The tangled wires came free, in which he began listening to music. Spain was happy to talk. He rested against a brick pillar.

The minutes began to grow, from two to five and Italy still was not back. It was worrying, considering how he had acted when Romano found him earlier. And the bundle of unease bringing his stomach to a tight, tight knot…

"-tello! Fratello…!"

Italy, thankfully, tackled him. Fortunately, it hadn't been strong enough to move them several feet forward where the tracks loomed. When the two brothers corrected themselves, Italy yanked the earbuds out of Romano's ears. Prayer in C gently hummed between them.

"What is-?!"

Romano cut himself off with an intake of breath. Italy was staring at him with his honey-colored eyes wide and gleaming. Those were indeed tears threatening to spill. He was shaking and stuttering with his words, fingers digging through Romano's coat and the uniform underneath.

Romano tried to speak again. "What… What's wrong?"

Italy muffled a noise, sucking in a hiccup. The tears began to drip off his chin. At last, he made a gesture, trying to tell his brother that they had to go. We had to go now, go now, or something bad will happen, fratello, please…

He stole a breath of air, and he was panting so hard, too hard, Romano thought of moving him to the bench farther back. "Breathe, Feli. Just breathe."

And Italy was shaking his head, having stopped the flow of his tears and racing heartbeat, and was tugging on what little of Romano's wrists he held. "N-no…! We have to-!"

Romano tugged back, his brother stumbling along. "Have to what? In three or so minutes, the subway will be here. We go off to see whatever stupid shit you found and we miss it..." Calm down, he's willing to speak, what has him worked up? … Why is his coat wet? "Just tell me,"

Italy gulped, sniffed, and then rubbed at his eyes. "Something bad."

"Did something bad happen?"

"I'm so stupid-..." Italy fell back against the pillar, wiping away the few tears that escaped.

Romano furrowed his eyebrows. "You aren't stupid! Just tell me what happened, okay? Can you do that for me?"

Italy glanced around. He snaked his hand to his side, fingertips snatching up the few wet blotches on his coat. He coughed, though fake and harsh, and the water became mist.

"I did something bad." he murmured. "And we have to go."

His green eyes narrowed, his head stiffly tilted. What did you do?

"Some lady had some water, like a water bottle, and I ran into her. On accident. I b-bumped into her and her stupid water. And before it could go over the both of us, I Bended it back in the bottle, on instinct a-and, Dio mio, fratello, someone saw, I know it! Someone had to of, we're around people, our faces are on camera, we have to leave now!"

That wasn't good.

That really wasn't good at all.

"Calm down!" Romano snapped. "Be quiet and just calm yourself down!" He walked away a couple of feet, tucking his now tangled earbuds into his pocket and pulling out his phone. "God damnit," he muttered. The tension was suffocating.

Change of plans. I think shit's about to happen so we might be a bit late. Romano sent to Spain.

Because if someone did happen to catch the scene on video, which was most definitely certain…

… Okay? I told Ludwig.

Turning back to his brother, Romano gripped his wrists and pulled him to his feet. It was dangerous to stay, it had to be. "Come on, we're going to walk out of here like everyone else: in a normal fashion. Understand? Save your stupid weeping for the taxi or something."

He was absolutely drained as he stalked back the way he had come, approaching the big set of steps. It was getting worse... To him, everyone was watching. His glances-over-the-shoulder became more frequent.

If his brother had been off to the bathroom, then he would have gone off to the left. His gaze skimmed the red bathroom sign. Best to avoid there. he thought as he tugged Italy along. The people filtered around them, behind them the subway docked and people boarded, before them loomed the staircase. The light was pouring through.

And then he was confronted by a man in black.

Italy bumped into his back with a yelp. With a nasty glare, he began to turn around around, to head back where they came from. There was another. And another. And another.

In total, there were five. They were surrounded.

"What the hell is it that you want?!" he snapped.

One of the men reached out, grasping Romano's hand. A gentle squeeze, it was cautious. Curious.

Romano himself tilted his head, unsure of how to react. His mind was feeling blank of any thought yet at the same time, he was feeling each thought and emotion race inside at a hundred miles per second. There was one single similarity that remained, though, and one that Italy seemed to catch onto as well. They were in danger. At last, he ignited his hand with a sudden heat.

Tick, tick, boom.

"RUN!"

As always, the streets were alive with the wonderful humans that did not care to pay attention. The humans that were shopping, eating, laughing, talking, perhaps everything but running for their lives.

When the man had felt the burn seep into his hand, he had instantly jumped back and created a slim opening. Out of concern that was definitely misplaced, one of the others moved in to comfort. By the time Romano had shouted, the two brothers were already free.

Among the traffic noise, the music, and the crowded conversation, there was their stomping feet and heavy pants. They shouted breathless excuses to get through, breathless apologies as they pushed people aside. Their wide, frantic gazes searched over their shoulders, the beeping cars and insulted citizens nothing compared to the thudding of those feet.

The brothers darted from street corner to street corner as they went through crosswalks with lights that obviously weren't red. Around one block, two, and there was the… by the… Romano flew forward and rolled. Behind him, the loose block of cement shifted back into place.

Italy yanked him upright by the back of his coat collar and they continued on.

"Dai! God damnit, get out of our way!" Romano shouted roughly.

"Permesso, permesso! Oh God, so sorry, excuse us!" Italy added, wasting a second to make sure the young lady he passed had not fallen.

Three streets.

Turn.

One street.

Don't get hit by a damned car.

They were there, in the lobby of the UN.

Italy slumped against the wall beside the elevators, short of breath as Romano looked at the elevators. A janitor was taping on the last Out Of Order sign on the closed metal doors.

"... Damnit…" Romano muttered, sourly moving his gaze from the elevators to the glass entry doors. No black figures. Yet, maybe? Maybe they were gone… they had run a long distance, and it was easy to get lost…

"The stairs then," he said softly, turning to his brother and leading him to the heavy door.

The staircase was high and winding, the lights bright and yellow. Their footfalls soft and dulled on the rubber covering of the steps as they quietly skipped every other step to put in more distance. Romano was still on edge, the bundle of unease growing once more.

There was a soft crash, in which someone screamed and Italy plummeted to the dusty and cold steps. He sucked in a yelp, his whimper lost in the scream. His tears blotted the rubber after falling from his chin, inching to his fingertips.

Romano leapt quietly over him, pulling him up and pushing him onward. Italy knew that look in his brother's eyes as the yellow light caught. Now's not the time to be twisting your ankle!

They covered several more flights, until Italy noticed that Romano was no longer with him, having stopped a couple of landings below him. Peering over the railing, he saw nothing.

"Fratello? What are you-?!" No wait, he knew... Didn't he?

"Just get to the room, Feli. I'll be okay."

Fear that was cold as ice wrapped Italy from head to toe, an arrow pierced his heart. His knees buckled so he held tightly to the railing. It was happening, but he didn't believe it. "Wha-...? D-don't… Don't use that tone with me!" he gasped. "You won't be okay, don't say that…"

"Feli, just go."

"No…!" He stood at the top step, ready to come down.

"Feliciano Vargas!" Romano snapped. Italy felt a tingle run up his spine. "Listen to your brother just this once and get to the others. Just this once, listen to me and do as I say."

That's what Nonno…! No, fratello, please don't do this to me!

"B-but you promised-!"

"I know what I promised and I'm going to keep it. I thought you knew me well enough. But no more of this now. You will go up the rest of these stairs, and you will go down the hall, to the room. You sure as hell will wait there for me. Do you understand?"

Italy listened hard. Romano was breathing with light puffs, and his shoes were shifting on the dirty floor.

"... Feli?" Romano echoed a couple minutes later.

Italy released a sob, cupping his hand to his mouth. He shifted back, eyeing the steps that loomed upwards to his friends, and the ones that loomed downward to his brother. "W-why can't I help you?"

There was no reply.

Italy hissed a whimper, heading for the first step. "... I hate you so much right now," he murmured, blinking at the welling tears in his eyes. He carried himself up the stairs. There was no noise drifting up to his ears from below, and Italy only felt pained by it.

He limped around the landing, checking the floor number.

One more. No noise. He opened and closed the door with a bang. His friends were just down the hall…

But they couldn't help, not when Romano was several flights below him with a gun to his head.