Warnings (for both part 1 and 2) : Implied violence and torture of sorts, eventual boy-fluff. One instance of he f-bomb. Nothing explicit otherwise.
Characters/Pairings (for both part 1 and 2): Romano and Veneziano for part one, Romano and Spain for part two. Implied GerIta, blatant SpaRo.

xxx

"Here! Germany! We're HERE!" Feliciano shrieked unevenly, stopping momentarily to spit up a good deal of blood as best as he could. As he stood up from his crouched position to continue yelling, a hand clamped over his ever-smiling mouth and Romano hugged him from behind. If Feli kept yelling for help, he would probably never speak again.

He knew that Germany was on the other side, and so was - and so was Spain, so was Belgium and Netherlands and Hungary and that old jerk Austria and they were all looking for them along the wall, and oh, how he wished he could call out, too, but he couldn't, and he wouldn't be having his brother die on him after all they had gone through.

A gunshot rant through the heavy silence, and Romano jumped. Feliciano started, too, and the next second they were both flat on the ground, covering each other's heads, trembling as a desert breeze ruffled their sweaty hair and clothes.

A second gunshot, a third, and suddenly they fell into a blissfully familiar signal pattern. Romano immediately knew that if he turned, he would see Feliciano crying, his mouth straining against the metal at the edges that had kept him smiling through everything, blood dripping thick and slow from his mouth. Tears often fell to the rest dust below, staining it a dark mahogany color that gave nothing of the comforting and at-home feeling it had at Spain's house. His tears, Feliciano's tears, he was sure they had both cried a river since they got here.

They both slowly rose, fragile as old men, and Romano suddenly jerked around to look at Feliciano. Wordless, ever since someone had gotten tired of his cursing and threatening, he dropped forward and kneeled, arms out to the sides.

Feliciano understood immediately and clambered onto his shoulders. Romano shook with pain and gritted his teeth as Feli's knees pressed on his sore shoulders and hands tangled and pulled at his hair, trying not to let his instinct to scream take over. That would only bring agony.

He stumbled through the standing process and they crashed into the brick wall, his brother almost cracking his head. They were still for a minute as Romano caught his breath, breathing harshly through his nose. Soon, though, he straightened painfully and Feliciano took a breath.

He waved furiously and started screaming again, Ludwig's mangled name, over and over again.

After nearly a minute, Feliciano gave a cry, his first sign of happiness in so long Romano could barely remember the sound, but it was so sweet as it came and he couldn't imagine ever pushing it away again.

Feliciano scrambled to the top of the wall, finding strength in whatever he saw, and hooked a leg over the side.

A breathy whine came unbidden from his throat, and Romano's reaching fingers scrabbled against the unforgiving brick. His eyes were wide and scared, and Feliciano immediately reached down to weave their fingers together, the most comforting presence. Neither of them would survive without the other, but after weeks of isolation, Romano was far more terrified of being left alone for any length of time.

Romano didn't know who Feliciano had seen, but as Feliciano gently pulled and finally jerked his hand away from his brother's, he found he didn't care.

Feliciano dropped over the other side, and Romano screamed as loud as he could, voice ripping through his damaged throat, fluctuating, stopping and starting spasmodically as he sobbed and pled, 'don't leave me, don't leave me fratello, where are you going?'

Romano jumped, stretching desperately for the edge of the rough brick. He missed by a good two feet and cried out in frustration, trying again and again until he tired himself out to the point where he was lightheaded had to slowly sink to the pebble and crack-littered ground below, blinking white spots from his vision. He was reduced to gasping for air and trying not to waste any water left in his body by crying again.

He almost couldn't believe that Feliciano had actually left him there.

Closing his eyes, Romano tried to calm down a little, not wanting to get hysterical again. His brother would be back, he'd promised not to leave him. He'd be back, and he'd bring that stupid German bastard with him and maybe even Spain, but Romano didn't want to think of that yet because he didn't know what he would do if he ever saw Spain again. Probably just sit there with him and have a complete mental breakdown in his arms.

Slowly, the bright orange of the back of his eyelids faded to black and he drifted off as the Earth completed another rotation, simply too exhausted to wait any longer.