Partner in Crime: Our first fic on our joint account! :D check out our profile for our individual accounts…. DISCLAIMER: We don't own Dark!Hetalia… or Hetalia in general…. Just to let you guys know, since we collaborate on this doc, we have random author notes inserted in the story (you can tell because they are in parenthesis) you don't have to read them! If they really bother you, though, please tell us. Enjoy~

Written by Partner in Crime and Owlcookies.

"ITALY!" England scowled.

The Italian furrowed his brow at two of his many enemies, England and France. His weapon was ready and hand, he was alert and on his toes.

"Don't expect to win so easily," Italy challenged.

He pointed his gun at the two countries, ready to fire.

"Please," France scoffed. "Don't flatter me."

"Who's flattering? At least I know when to keep my pants on in front of other people," Italy retorted, smirking very smugly.

"Why you little pasta lover..." France growled. He raised his gun and furiously fired the first shot.

Italy winced as the bullet grazed past his neck, leaving a deep cut that was already beginning to bleed. He frowned. Still holding his gun, he let go with one hand and placed it on his neck. When he took it off, a huge spot of warm and sticky fresh blood dripped from his hand.

"Wounded on the first shot, how pathetic," England spat. France fired again, missing Italy as he dove for cover.

Italy's wound only bled faster as it brushed by a thistle he had dove behind.

"Is that all you do? Cower?" England laughed. "You don't deserve to live." He smiled evilly.

Italy fired his first shot, aiming at England's chest. France pushed his comrade out of the way, so he only hit his upper shoulder. Cursing, Italy fired this time at France.

"Loyal dogs, you would put your life in danger for someone not worth it!" Italy spat.

England growled with fire burning in his eyes. "At least we outnumber you! Where are your comrades? Have they abandoned you?" he shouted.

"No they have not! They just haven't arrived yet!"

"What about your brother? Where's your dear Fratello? The one who would never leave your side?" Italy's face darkened.

"YOU BETTER NOT HAVE DONE ANYTHING TO HIM YOU BASTARDS!" Italy shouted, opening fire.

"Is chaining up your brother nothing?" France taunted.

Italy charged at the country, screaming angrily. But in one swift move, England pulled the trigger to his gun and shot Italy. His blood splattered the battlefield as the impact of the bullet caused him to fly through the air and hit the ground. Italy gasped, choking on blood that had gotten caught in his throat. He hacked it out.

France rolled his eyes. "So weak. He didn't even get so much as a scratch on us."

Growling, Italy wiped the blood from the corners of his mouth. He dropped his gun and took a knife from his belt and raised it steadily. It whizzed through the air, aimed at France's head. France caught it with his two fingers and flung it to the ground.

Italy repeatedly swore. He couldn't fight these two men alone. It was too much. Once again, he picked up his gun and aimed at France. He fired his one last shot. The bullet lodged itself between France's collarbone and shoulder. France bit his lip to stop himself from crying out in pain as the bullet was jammed in his bone. England shot him a worried glance, then turned back to the worn out Italian.

Gun raised, England fired at Italy. Each one was dodged as Italy had collapsed and began to roll around on the ground to dodge the bullets.

"HOLD STILL!" England shouted.

"You crazy old man," Italy smirked. "You think I'm in the Mafia for nothing?" Another shot fired, another shot dodged. "You can't kill me that easily."

"As a past pirate, I refuse to be defeated!" England fired again, and again, and again. Miss, miss, hit. This bullet tore through Italy's torso. England smiled. "Get up if you think you're as strong as you are Mr. Mafia." His eye's widened as he saw Italy get up again. "N-No! That's not possible!"

Italy coughed up more blood. "I dodged," he plainly stated, managing a small smirk. He pulled out a small pistol from his jacket. "Rule number one of staying alive in the Mafia, carry more than one gun."

England scowled. France held out an arm to stop him. "I'll finish this."

France drew his sword from its scabbard. Italy's eyes widened for a moment, and then he narrowed them.

"Bring it on French Fry," he hacked, trying to smile.

France charged at Italy, ranting about his new nickname. He stabbed at Italy but each was deflected by Italy's pistol. France, irked that he couldn't land a single cut on the Italian, raised his foot and roughly kicked Italy's stomach wound. Gasping in pain, Italy let go on his gun giving France a chance to stab him and at the same time giving the country a major and mortal wound.

The Italian swore to himself as he saw flashes of red, white, and black. Was this really the end for him? (epic...fail...-oc)(i was trying nt to make it funny... it was haaaaaaard-pnc)(yes. cuz u failed ._.-oc)(THEN U CHANGE IT AND NOT MAKE IT FUNNY!-pnc)(ok...)(problem solved :P-oc)(hmph-pnc)(u can just imagine how hard im laughing right now XD omg! yknow how they count our words in the chapters? i think a big portion of it comes from our random author notes XD-oc)(lol ur probably right-pnc)(i also love how wer talking on this and note chatting :p-oc)(lol its funny-pnc)(ikh-oc)

The blood dripped down his face and soaked the already red ground. The gash down his lower back was oozing out blood. He sunk on his knees. Just before the Italian lost conscience, he let go of his weapon and whispered, "You'll regret this."(nice, you changed it:P-oc)(hehe Italy invades france and the london blitz. they regret it :P plus it fit better-pnc)(yeah ik wat u mean-oc)(bwahahaha baaaaack-pnc)

The Englishman he had fought against, brushed the fallen hairs that had fallen onto his face away to the side. He sighed in relief as the Italian lay there unmoving. His comrade, France, stood next to him idly pointing his sword at the fallen man in caution.

"Make one move," He hissed. "And it's all over."

England put his hand on France's shoulder and lightly tapped it. "You can relax now, he's unconscious."

The two men walked away, leaving Italy to bleed to death. Gravel crunched under their feet as they walked away. The late evening sky began to fade to gray as the clouds collected.

~Page break~

Out in the distance, he saw a fallen red figure. Germany raised an eyebrow suspiciously and he marched through the muddy wet ground. A few more meters ahead and Germany realized that the fallen figure was another country who had been been left to die. Cautiously, as if he were picking up something as fragile as thin glass, he wrapped his arms around the man and picked him up with his strong arms.

When he looked at the soldiers face, he recognized the protruding curl sticking out of his head.

"Mien Gott... Italia? Is that you?" Germany started to worry about his poor friends health. (wtf jenna O.o didnt u leave? howd u type THIS up?-oc)(bwahahaha I has an iPod :P-pnc)(OHHH NO WONDER!-oc)(Bwahahaha-pnc)(ok... so... i has a question, wer is we going with this...?-oc

Italy groaned in pain. Germany sighed in relief. He wasn't dead. Yet. He quickly scanned the battlefield, but saw no Medic in sight.

He cursed under his breath, hoping for a miracle to save this dying country. He spotted someone far up ahead. He prayed to whomever he was supposed to pray to and rushed over to the person standing in the middle of the battlefield. All at the same time, he made sure he didn't injure Italy in any way possible.

When he reached the man, it was one of his own men, surveying the damage. Germany spoke in rapid German, asking him to get a doctor quick. The man saluted solemnly, seeing as how devastated Germany looked.

Italy coughed; blood splattered his body and Germany's face as well.

"Hurry!" Germany barked. Italy's breathing hitched and he moaned in pain. The doctor rushed over and called for a stretcher. The look on his face told Germany that his friend was in mortal peril.

~Page break~

A blinding light woke Italy from his dream of eating a giant bowl of pasta while wasps were stinging him. As the Italian eyes fluttered open, the German and the Japanese man sighed in relief.

"We almost lost you there for a second, Italia. You shouldn't be so careless! You almost got killed! Why haven't you learned to defend yourself! You see, this is why we train!" Germany started lecturing the Italian, who was bandaged head to foot.

Bandages crisscrossed his chest, wrapped around his torso, snaked his arms, and covered his hair and an eye.

Italy tried to flinch from Germany, but found that even breathing sent a searing pain.

"It's a good thing you came too. We were afraid you..." Japan bit his lip. "Well, never mind. Welcome back though."

Italy, surprised to hear such a thing, bolted up, then regretting it and laying back down, whimpering in pain.

Germany's eyes opened and he quickly stood up. When he saw that the Italian was OK, he relaxed a bit. "Don't move around too much," he said. "You'll reopen your wounds." The Italian gave him a shaky smile and obeyed.

"We were all worried about you. You looked pretty bad. The doctor wasn't sure you were going to live." Japan explained. The Italian tried to nod, but the world started spinning, like a merry-go-round he saw little children play on. (this isnt so dark and dramatic O.o-oc)(I'm trying to hold all my humor in. it's rlly hard. lemme first get on a comp and get on wikipedia first-pnc)(ok...-oc)

"Fratello..." Italy mumbled. "They have Fratello..."

Germany winced at the memory of the fiery Italian. "Who has Romano?"

"England... France..."

"How would you know this?" Japan questioned.

"Fighting... me..." Italy tried to talk in as little words as possible, saving energy.

"France and England did this to you?" Germany roared. Japan tried to calm him down, but Germany was too riled up.

"Germany! Calm down!" Japan yelled, and made the larger man sit back down.

Germany was holding back his anger. Fists balled up, he shook in anger. "They will wish they never laid a single finger on you! You and your brother! I WILL MAKE THEM PAY!"

"Shut up," Italy hissed, barely above a whisper.

Japan and Germany looked at him in shock. "What?"

"I said shut up. Everyone takes pity of Fratello and I, fighting our battles for us, looking down at us because they think we're weak. We can fight our own battles. WE CAN TAKE CARE OF OURSELVES! WE! AREN'T! WEAK!" Italy shouted, using every last strand of strength in the last sentences, before collapsing and hanging on the brink of consciousness. Germany smiled and brushed the hair out of his exposed eye.

"You aren't weak, Italia," Germany whispered in his ear, before he got up and left his friend to rest.

~Page break~

Romano shivered in his cell as he huddled in the only damn corner that got sunlight. Weak from starvation, he struggled to stand up and raising his fist.

"Damn it," he cursed. "When the hell is this all over? When will I just fucking die or when will someone come to save me or crap like that?" Shaking, he sat back down again. He bit his lip in a desperate attempt to taste some form of food. It had been days since his last slice of stale bread.

~Page break~

"You're bankrupt! You can't afford this! He's not worth it!" A soldier called after the man who was walking off, giant battle-axe in hand and a dark look in his eyes. "Your boss will be very mad at you! He's his own country now! He doesn't need you to go and rescue him from Franc-" He was cut off by the feeling of a blade pressing against his throat. A battle-axe twice the size of him was being pressed against his windpipe, and he was struggling to breathe.

"Don't you ever say he's not worth it." The Spanish man hissed and walked off.

"For a country, he sure is stupid," One of the men replied.

"It's been a while since I've seen his axe," another one said.

"You're right... I wonder what made Spain so mad?" (I DONT GET IT!-oc)(BWAHAHAHA CONFUSION IS FUN! }:)-pnc)(like aryssas :P-oc)(lol ikr?-pnc)(what?-xb)(its an in-n-out joke tht ur mind is incapbale of understanding }:3-oc)

A warning to the people

The good and the evil

This is war

Partner in Crime: That's a great ending right there! Hahaha the last part is from the song This is War by 30 Seconds To Mars, which we don't own.

OwlCookies: it's and awesome song. watch the video "Hetalia-This is War" becuz its REALLY awesome! i PROMISE YOU IT'S FRUCKIN AWESOME!

Partner in Crime: ALSO WATCH "HISTORY IS NOW"! THEY ARE THE BEST VIDS EVER! :D ahahaha I love dark Hetalia... :P

OwlCookies: DARK HETALIA ROCKS UR SOCKS OFF! NO JOKE

Xploding Bunnies: I am so confused...

OwlCookies: is this to much for ur fragile mind to handle? hmm? OH WAIT, so pnc, wer do u want me to post this...? ur account or like, mine..?

Partner in Crime: Urs

OwlCookies: oh. Ok. But im on a fone rite now so if by any chance, can u bold this?

Xploding Bunnies: U R NOT WELCOME. XP

OwlCookies: oh. thanks. :P i suppose. psht. and wait, u wer never even part of this story o.o ur to spazzy. out of all 3 of us, im like, the most darkish dramatic one o_o which proves that if u guys hadnt come along, somehwere down in a hole wud be an epic failed humor story. so take tht as i compliment or ill hit u tomorrow and then run away.

Partner in Crime: thx...