(An):

Hello! This is another fic that I wrote a little while ago, so it isn't perfect. I'm no history expert, so not everything will be 100% accurate, I apologize for that in advance, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Happy reading!

Chapter 1

Germany slicked back his blond hair nervously as he approached Italy's house, a heavy feeling in his heart as he looked upon the familiar door with something akin to dread. It had taken him the better of ten years to get the guts to finally face his former best friend again. Staring down the familiar house sent another stab of nerves.

Ludwig had beaten himself up for years after World War II. For the way he treated his best friend and secret love. This house brought memories rushing back to his side. When he had been really happy for the first, and what was probably the last time in his life. And for what? A crazy man, and an unwinnable war.

Germany felt like the biggest hypocrite in the world, being gay and prosecuting gays in those horrible death camps. The nation shuttered and forced the memories out of his head, he found once they started it was hard to stop them. He hadn't wanted to greet his former best friend like that, Feliciano deserved better.

After the war had finally ended and he'd gotten his economy back in control, all Ludwig could do for the other nations (Personally anyway) was apologize for everything he'd done. His country had been left in rubble and for years the German had to pay for what he did. He had personally apologized to every country he had wronged, with the exception of Italy. He had been far too ashamed to face him. Germany had paid off so much war debt that he had been in near poverty for years.

Gilbert, after he had been released from Russia's house, (which had only been recently) had insisted he apologize to Italy in person as well. Germany had fought tooth and nail. How could he possibly look Feli in the eye after the atrocities he had committed? Some of which to Italy himself; he had blindly followed a madman and it had cost him nearly all he had. How could someone so sweet and kind ever look at him with anything but disgust?

Now that Prussia was home though, Germany couldn't deny his older brother anything after what he'd gone through at Russia's. He had done the whole, personal apologies things as soon as possible. Mostly to just get it done and over with so he could move onto more important things. There was just so much to do after the war. But he put off this particular apology for years, not wanting to face his betrayed best friend.

Prussia had lately been pressuring him to go over uninvited and surprise the Italian. It was preferable for Germany. He never liked surprise visits himself, but what if Italy wouldn't speak to him? It had happened before, Russia had flat out refused, and Austria had made up excuse after excuse until finally Germany just dropped it. France had been very cold towards him and accepted his apology with polite words. Despite this, he needed to do this, whether he liked it or not Germany was going through with it; but he was nervous. Ludwig expected Italy to be angry, resentful, scared, anything except forgiving.

Not that anyone had been forgiving. Each apology had been politely received, but Ludwig could tell that the acceptance, for the most part, had all been less than sincere. America and England had been particularly cold towards him. He knew why, and he didn't blame them. He just couldn't face those looks of hidden, burning hatred on Italy's sweet face.

It already pained him to watch Italy bear two World Wars. The fact that he personally got him through the first one was one thing. But forcing the brunette to resort to abandon him towards the end of World War II stung. How had the war affected him personally? Most everyone still bore physical effects of the war, was Italy still feeling hurt?

It didn't matter right now though, he had come to apologize, and he wasn't making this walk of shame again. He had gotten the guts to get this far. He wasn't backing down now; no matter how much it hurt.

So, the German nation straightened his shoulders, cleared his throat and knocked on Italy's door; dread once again sinking into the pit of his stomach. He hoped he hadn't called too early. The moment didn't seem to end while Germany stood there waiting. He heard a faint shuffling from deep inside the house. He hoped he hadn't woken the Italian nation.

The door swung open, revealing a bleary eyed Italy in nothing but his boxers and a shirt that looked way too big on him. Germany blushed, Italy look absolutely adorable. His face was flustered, he was rubbing his right eye, and that shirt made him look a lot smaller than he already was. Ludwig felt his heart flutter in a way he hadn't felt in years. It had been too long since he had seen Italy and the brunette still set his heart pounding.

"G-Germany?" Italy gasped, his hand dropping to his side as his huge brown eyes swelled with shock. He pulled the door towards him so that he was blocking most of the entrance, his face even more flushed. "W-what are you doing here? Ve, is everything ok?"

Germany felt a pang as he watched Feliciano, he wasn't sure why exactly he was doing what he was doing, but it had something to do with him. Italy looked a little tired, like he had just woken up. He looked a little thinner, but he knew that might just have been an illusion created by the shirt he was wearing. The blond wondered at that, but he chose not to comment.

Ludwig took a step forward and on impulse took the brunette's hands before the Italian had a chance to react. He wouldn't admit it, but he was terrified, terrified Italy would start yelling or hate him. Feliciano let out a surprised squeak, as Germany looked him dead in the eye, his grip tightening on the little country's hands. It seemed selfish, but he needed the support, it had been so long since he'd touched Italy.

"I'm so sorry for everything, I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for the citizens I hurt; the soldiers, the Jews. I'm sorry for how many of them died." He hesitated at the stunned look on Italy's face. Could he get through this? "I came here to make things right between us again."

Germany didn't quite know where the words were coming from. None of his other apologies had been nearly this heartfelt. That was probably because this one was the most personal, but he hadn't even had anything prepared in his head before this. It surprised him.

Ludwig leaned in closer to the Italian nation. Italy looked nervous as he took a step back saying quietly. "Germany, there's something I have to tell you before you say anything else-"

"No there's something I have to tell you first." He interrupted, the brunette's actions making him panic and his heart ache. Feliciano was looking on edge, his eyes were wide with what looked like pity, or maybe sorrow. But Ludwig was more determined than ever, he had to let Italy know how he felt now or it would forever remain unknown.

"Ludwig, please-" Italy begged, but Germany knew he wouldn't be able to get this out if he was given a chance to talk himself out of it.

"Please." He whispered, drawing Feliciano closer, causing his face to heat up and his pulse to quicken. The Italian closed his mouth and shifted backwards, his grip on his hands slackened, and Germany realized he was trying to let go. He needed an anchor, so he held on tighter, causing the brunette to flinch a little. But he gave in and gave Germany's hand a light squeeze. Germany felt his shoulders lighten as if a burden had been lifted and allowed his grip slackened slightly.

Germany looked Italy right in the eyes, he didn't know where this sudden surge of courage was coming from, but he didn't question it as he said. "Italy, I've liked you for sometime." The brunette's eyes widened and Germany swallowed, his nerves getting the better of him again. "I mean, as more than just a friend, I think that I-" but Germany broke off when he heard a noise coming from deep within the house. Were those footsteps...?

Italy seized up and Ludwig felt his grip slacken again. Feliciano backed up a few steps. Ludwig tried to peer around inside door as whoever was in there was drawn closer. "Feli?" A much larger figure appeared behind the little country and Germany's eyes widened as the figure came into view.

America was standing there, in nothing other than a pair of gray boxers and his usual spectacles. His blue eyes narrowed when they fell upon the pair. He walked forward, pushing the door open further. He strode over to Italy and wrapped an arm around the brunette's waist, causing The brunette to drop Germany's hands completely. Feliciano turned towards the blond and put one arm around his back, and rested the other on America's bare chest, looking up into Alfred's eyes with what looked like an abashed, slightly apologetic stare.

Germany backed off, completely shocked and enraged by the exchange. It made his blood boil, what the hell was going on here? Italy turned back towards him; his chocolate eyes were wide and sympathetic. "Germany," the German swallowed, scared for Italy to go on. "I wanted to tell you earlier but well…" Germany felt his heart throb painfully in his chest. "America and I are dating."

America waved awkwardly and gave the brunette a little squeeze, his gaze now softened on the Mediterranean country. Italy offered a weak smile and shifted in the American's grip.

"Uh, so what's going on here Feli?" Alfred asked, turning towards Germany, his cerulean eyes going icy cold. Ludwig glared back at the American, his fists shaking at his sides. How dare that pretentious idiot touch Italy like that? He took a step closer, his blood on fire.

"Germany was just here to apologize. You know, for the war and all." Italy said cheerfully, smiling brightly at Germany. "And you're forgiven. Thank you for being brave and coming over."

Ludwig tried not to let his feelings get the better of him even as his heart ached in his chest. Italy had a boyfriend, he would just have to learn to accept that. "Uh- yeah. Thank you Italy." He choked, looking anywhere but at the pair. Tears were burning his eyes; he turned away. "Well, I can see you're busy. I should really go."

"Wait! Germany?" The German froze, Italy's light footsteps were padding behind him. He looked up and grunted as he felt Italy wrap his arms around his chest. "Can I call you? I'd like to catch up."

Germany shifted his head so it rested atop the brunette's own head. He saw America standing on the porch alone. Upon eye contact the American crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at Germany. Ludwig couldn't help it; he smirked and put on hand on the Feliciano's waist and the other at the back of his head. He gripped Italy tighter and held him against his chest, causing America's scowl to deepen. "Of course."

"Yay!" Feli squealed. Germany smiled softly at the familiar exclamation of happiness. For a moment, it felt almost like old times, with Italy showering him with hugs and kisses while Japan smiled knowingly at them from afar. Italy would beg to slack off and play football while Germany tried to make a soldier out of him and fail. He remembered all of the silly situations Feliciano had wound up in, and all the times he had to come and save him. His smile widened and he inhaled Italy's scent.

But the happy memories scattered when Italy pulled back and bounded straight back into Alfred's arms, waving jovially back at Germany. His heart ached further as he watched America turn a now warm gaze onto Italy and kiss the side of his head.

He waved back half-heartedly as Italy turned and walked into the house. America stayed back a moment, sending the German another icy glare before following him into house. Germany realized with a sharp breath that the shirt Italy was wearing must have been the American's. Pain seemed to be radiating off Ludwig's heart, how could he have misread his best friend for so long? It had been years since he'd seen Italy, how long had they been dating? What kinds of things had they done in that time? It was only 8:00 the American had obviously spent the night!

Germany sighed and walked back to his car, his eyes brimming with tears as it all came crashing down on him. He honestly thought for a while Italy was interested in him. Now he realized how stupid he'd been. He opened the door to his car and climbed in, tears still blurring his vision. Germany inhaled a shaky breath and wiped at his eyes, not wanting to drive half blind in traffic.

He had been wrong.

The war had taken everything from him.

...

Italy sighed contently against America's chest, snuggling into the blonde's familiar warmth as the two sat on the couch. They had long since gotten dressed, had breakfast and were planning to put on a movie. But upon settling on the couch, neither could bring themselves to get up. So they had decided to just lie there and cuddle for a little while.

Feliciano giggled happily as Alfred pulled him closer and kissed him lightly on the forehead. He hummed and pressed his palm into his boyfriend's cheek as the blond planted a kiss atop his head. Italy looked up into America's beautiful blue eyes, their cerulean coloration faded into icy blue, and suddenly Feliciano was looking into Ludwig's eyes again. Italy felt a small pang of guilt, thinking of Germany's apology earlier that morning. He couldn't get the look of despair on his face out of his head. The Italian sighed and hid his face in the American's neck, seeking a little comfort in the blonde's touch.

"Feli?" Alfred questioned, looking down at the little country. He looked half amused, half confused. "What'cha doin?" He probed, giving the Italian nation a little shake, his smile causing the older boy's heart to melt.

"Hm? What do you mean?" Italy murmured softly, feigning confusion and looking up at the American with wide chocolate eyes.

Alfred chuckled, pecked Italy on the lips and nuzzled his forehead. "You're so cute!" He exclaimed, giving him a little squeeze. Feli giggled.

"So are you!" He cooed, poking Alfred's nose and making the American chuckle.

"What's wrong?" America repeated, not allowing the subject to be changed for long. "Is everything ok?" He asked, turning concerned blue orbs down on the older nation. Italy melted again under his gaze, and at the same time felt even worse.

"Well, it's- it's just," He sighed and pulled away slightly. America kept his arms around the Italian, but now there were a few inches between them. Italy looked intensely at America, indicating it was time for a serious talk. "It's about Germany."

Alfred didn't look awfully surprised, but concern and sadness clouded his cerulean eyes as he gazed down at the little country. "What did he do? Are you ok?" His grip on Italy suddenly becoming vice like around his small frame. "Did he upset you? Feli-?"

"No it's not that," Italy interrupted, knowing if he didn't stop him, the American nation would work himself up too much and get wild and unrealistic ideas up in his head. "I'm just worried. I should have talked to him earlier…"

The blond nation pulled him flush against his chest once more. Italy relaxed as Alfred's fingers laced through his auburn hair, his other hand snaking around the Italian's waist, holding him close. "I know it hurt not talking to him for so long. But then you and I wouldn't have gotten together, right? You don't... I mean..."

Italy's heart broke; America couldn't possibly think he was regretting their relationship could he? Feliciano shifted and planted a kiss on Alfred's jaw. "Yeah... you're right." He smiled warmly up at his boyfriend, blushing slightly. "I guess that means I made the right decision after all."

America's eyes lit up, his face breaking out into a huge grin. He leaned down and gave Italy a quick and passionate kiss before pulling the Italian fully into his lap. "Thanks Feli. But about this Germany thing..."

"I'm over him." Italy said at once, looping his arms around the American's neck. "I promise I have no romantic feelings for him anymore."

Alfred nodded. "I'm just worried. He's clearly not over you yet and you asked if you could call him."

Italy nodded, his eyes wide with understanding. "I know. I just feel so awful." He admitted, his head drooping a little. "I feel like I led him on… I still care about him. He was my best friend."

America lifted Italy's chin up and looked him dead in the eye. "I understand. I just want you to be careful. I don't really trust him."

Italy frowned. "Why not?" He questioned, pulling back from the blond nation again.

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I told you, I don't trust him. He hurt you and waited years to even apologize to you for it! The worst of it is he's obviously got feelings for you. I trust you," he pointed a finger at Feliciano's chest, causing the little country to giggle despite the serious talk. Alfred gave Italy a small smile in return, moving that hand to cup Italy's soft cheek. "I know you don't want to hurt him. But I don't want him to hurt you again."

Italy's face set back into a pout-like frown, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared defiantly up at America. "He's still my friend. I don't want to string him along, but I don't just want to never talk to him again." Italy argued, annoyance slowly pricking at his skin.

America frowned down at him, but to his surprise Italy didn't back down. "That's not what I'm saying. I just…" Alfred looked frustrated as he gripped at his hair; it pulled Italy's sympathy. The little brunette took America's hand and immediately the blond nation gripped back, smiling slightly at the older nation for a moment before his face grew serious again. "I'm not trying to offend you, but Germany is a bigger and stronger country who has proven to be unpredictable. I don't want you around someone like that."

Promptly Italy's blood began to boil all over again. He was trying to keep this civil, but it was proving a losing battle. "He was following orders like anyone else would have done!"

Alfred shifted backwards, bewildered by Feliciano's earnest expression. "Yeah, but he sat back and watched atrocities unfold on his own people! He should have at least tried to do something. After all, he represents his people and government. Everything he does and is, is based off of their actions and feelings!"

Italy felt tears prick at his eyes, how could he say that? "But you're still friends with Japan, and he attacked you out of cold blood!"

"But I nuked him! And besides that he was the only thing keeping that war going! He was torturing his prisoners of war. People were dying I had to do something!"

"I'm not arguing about the moral behind it. War makes us all animals." He looked down. "Including me."

America looked taken aback. Italy felt a familiar guilt settle in his stomach, and found he couldn't hold the American's gaze. "W-what?"

Feliciano sighed, tears now swimming in his chocolate colored eyes. "You- you seem to have forgotten that I was a part of Axis too."

"Feli-" Alfred began, but Italy felt another sudden rush of anger.

"Nothing can excuse what I stood for!" He finally looked back up into Alfred's worried cerulean eyes. "I don't understand. Japan, Germany and I were all a part of the Axis; we all stood for the same cause. But you and I are dating and you and Japan are friends now." He scooted a little closer to the American, leaning in closer. They were nearly nose-to-nose. "Why do you only blame Germany? How can you look at him with disgust and not me too?"

Alfred sighed. "I don't blame you," He poked Feliciano's nose, but this time Alfred's affection tugged no reaction from the brunette. "Because you were sticking with your ally's, you weren't going in to attack gays, or Jews, or anyone else." He took one of Italy's hands. "And once you started to rebel, Germany just-" His eyes turned cold. "Forced you to stay in a union you didn't want to support. You left for the good guys and helped us take Germany down."

Italy didn't feel any better. "I know! I sold out my best friend and then didn't talk to him for over ten years! I led him on and then he came back expecting me to be in love with him and I'm dating someone else." He hid his face in his hands. "I'm such a bad friend!"

"No!" America pulled Italy's hands away from his face and kissed him on the cheek. "You did what was right for you and your country. Like you said it's hard to blame a country for doing what their people and government want."

"Then why do you still blame Germany?" Italy accused.

America sighed again. "The war isn't the only reason I distrust him." America's voice rose in pitch and volume, causing the Italian to shift backward. "He's obviously into you and I don't want him near you. Besides that he's a shady nation with a shady history, and he hates me!"

Italy let out a shaky breath, guilt once again creeping up on him. He hadn't meant to upset Alfred, he hated fighting with him and he didn't think this argument would go anywhere. So he decided to go with his usual tactic; surrender."I understand." He moved forward and kissed the blond nation on the jaw. "Would you feel better if maybe Japan was there with us? Then we wouldn't be alone together when we hung out. If I explained the situation, maybe he could help a little?"

Alfred gave him a faint smile as Italy looped his arms around him and kissed the tip of his nose. Feliciano knew that Alfred hated fighting about as much as he did. "That sounds reasonable." He conceded, his entire posture relaxing at the suggestion. "Thanks Feli."

Italy's face lit up in a happy smile. It was worth cutting the argument short and just complying if it made America this happy. "You're welcome Alfred!" He squeaked, trying not to let the fight affect his mood. Italy pulled away from the embrace, his smile only half-forced. "Oh! What would you like for lunch? Can we have pasta please?" He begged.

Alfred chuckled and pecked Feliciano lightly on the lips. "How about we have burgers for lunch, and we can share a huge bowl of pasta for dinner?"

"Yay!" Italy cheered, bouncing off the couch and into the kitchen. It had always been a delicate balance of what they should have to eat, as Italy only wanted to eat pizza and pasta while America couldn't stand a day without a few burgers and fries. But they made it work.

Italy began getting out the round pieces of meat and was just about to place them on a plate to grill them, when something grabbed him from behind and pulled him back. Italy let out a little yell, but his cries turned into giggles as he felt Alfred's familiar build press against him from behind.

"My burgers." He said playfully. "I want to show off my awesome grilling skills!"

Italy laughed hysterically before stepping aside, saluting with the wrong hand and calling playfully. "All yours captain!"

Alfred placed four burgers on the plate, picked it up with one hand, and took Italy's in the other. "C'mon. I want to eat outside! It's so pretty in your country."

Italy blushed. "Thank you! But I love the states."

"Yeah you do." He growled suggestively.

Italy smacked him playfully. "You know what I mean. California is absolutely beautiful."

Italy hadn't yet visited all of the states, but he wished he could. They generally alternated houses, America staying for maybe a week before he took Italy back with him to one of his houses in one of the many states. Feliciano had been to about seven-teen, while he had shown Alfred nearly all of Italy. After all, America was a much larger nation than his was.

"Thanks dude! That means a lot coming from such an adorable little artist." Alfred cooed. He turned and winked before turning back and firing up the grill. Italy smiled serenely and admired his boyfriend from afar.

He really had made the right choice after all.