This is a short, angsty oneshot that came to me some days ago.
Pairing: GerIta

Warning: Character death

Germany reloaded and cursed as he saw how little ammunition they had left. But their enemies seemed to never run out. It was hopeless. No matter how he didn't want to see, just as the rest of the nations, the terrorists would win. Somehow. They had tried many things to stop them, fighting together. It didn't take long until everyone understood that a world war doesn't necessarily need to be between nations, like it always had been before. This was a world war, against terrorism. A war they were currently losing.

They had tried everything, but the resources of the terrorists never seemed to end. For every battle that the countries lost, the terrorists would take the weapons that were left. And you could never know who was with the terrorists and who wasn't. All that the nations knew was that they couldn't win this with war, but they couldn't stop fighting either. It was an eternal circle, which was going down into destruction. And they couldn't do a thing.

Germany looked over the military team that was there, the mix of green and blue uniforms. German and Italian. They were losing this battle too, and most of these children would never return home. He closed his eyes for a moment, mourning the already dead and those who wouldn't go out of this war alive. He could feel every one of them. Every light that went out and every soul that was crying. He could feel his children's loss. The pain coming with every person dying was something he had gotten used to, unfortunately. He could live, and he could fight, with it. But it still hurt. Sometimes he wished he wasn't a country. Many of the wound he had gotten would have killed him already if he had been as fragile as his children.

This was also a thing that the nations had with horror discovered. If they were shot, or blown up, they could actually be killed. They were just a bit stronger than normal humans, which was why he could still fight after all the battles he had encountered. Germany didn't worry about himself, he was strong. His blue eyes, once again flowed over the battling people, now after someone specific. It took longer than usual to find the brown-haired country sitting down with his back against the cliff protecting them all.

Italy had taken a bit of rest, trying to stop a wound in his head from bleeding. That shot would have killed him, but with the reason of him being a nation, he was alive. He was tired, that was something Germany could see even from his position a few meters away. For once, the blond haired nation didn't blame him for that. There had been a big terror attack in Italy, killing thousands. Germany tried to keep out the memory of Italy screaming from the pain of losing so many of his children at the same time. And in that moment Germany understood how weak he was, not being able to protect his long time friend and lover.

He turned around, rising up so that he was barely over the edge of the cover. Then he continued to shoot towards the enemies being stationed on the other side of the battlefield. At least they had stopped using bombs now, probably running out of them. Still you could never now with those bastards. Most likely, they would have one or two tricks left up their sleeve. After he once again ran out of bullets, he reached after a refill. Just to notice there wasn't any. Letting out another curse, he ran down the line of fighting soldiers until he got to Italy. He sat down again next to the shorter nation.

"Do you have any more bullets?" He asked in a heavy breath looking over their fighting forces once more before looking at Italy. Germany's mouth dropped, as he had never seen Italy being so serious and concentrated on the gun in his hand. There was no way… Italy was…

…making a white flag.

Germany couldn't believe what he was seeing. In the middle of this battlefield, in the middle of all guns, bombs and blood he was binding a white cloth to his gun. The clothes both had some bloodstains and dirt on it, but the white colour was overwhelming. Italy held it up a moment, as if he inspected it, then he nodded approving at himself.

"Italy!" Germany screamed as he began to scold the nation. Italy jumped, and by his surprised look it was obvious he hadn't seen Germany before. He tried to take the just-finished-flag from Italy's hand when Italy pulled his hand away, making the flag unreachable for the German. Ludwig's eyes widened at the reaction, seeing how Italy's expression said "don't touch!". "Italy…" Germany said again, this time a bit softer than before, suddenly regretting his outburst. "We don't have time for that… you know it." Italy didn't say anything, but then suddenly smiled a sad smile. The blue-uniformed country suddenly stood up, taking grip on the stone that had been behind his back.

"I-Italy… what are you doing!" Germany ended with a scream as Italy climbed up from the cover. Italy didn't stop, and continued to climb up with more determination than Ludwig had ever seen. The German rose and tried to reach his lovers foot to drag him down, but missed precisely. He couldn't do anything as Feliciano climbed up and out from the protection, right up in the terrorist's target line. He heightened the flag, not waving it, just holding it.

For a moment everything got quiet. Then a single shot came through the battlefield. And the next moment, Ludwig couldn't do anything but to watch and hear the multiplied gunshots ringing through the air, thrashing the light-headed, happy-go-lucky nation's body. "Italy!" Germany screamed, and ran to catch the body as Italy fell down from the cliff, still clutching his white-flag in his hands. Italy fell straight onto Germany and both tumbled down into a small heap, Italy's blood coloring their clothes. The fight started again, but this time louder, harsher, and stronger from their part. Just as the nation felt their children's pain, the people felt their nations' emotions.

But for Germany, as he held his lover in his arm, everything had frozen around and inside him. "Why did you go up there!" Germany screamed, as he held Italy, trying to stop the bleeding coming out from Italy's chest. God there was way too much blood! "You know we can't surrender!" he was starting to sound desperate, as he saw how Italy had a hard time simply breathing. And once again, there was nothing he could do.

Italy beamed a smile, just as he used to do, but now it was tainted by pain. "Surrender? That sounds nice…" He managed a small laugh, but they coughed and Germany looked horrified as blood came over them both from Italy's mouth. "I never got this "fighting for peace" thing…." His hand reached up to gently brush away some tears on Germany's cheek but took it down when he saw he was only painting his lover's cheek red. "And you got it wrong…" He smiled again, a last dying smile Germany realized, as he thought Italy looked like an angel. The words came in a laughing breath. Italy's last.

"…The white flag stands not for surrender, but for peace."

It was the quote: "The white flag stands for peace" that put this thing in motion, and suddenly I felt like hugging Felli-chan for always having his white flag, hoping for peace;o;

(Should I heighten the rating?)