In Germany's Home Office

After coming out of work ahead of schedule, Ludwig came across one of those rare occasions when he actually had some time to spare. He had carefully weighed his options, and decided to get ahead on the week's paperwork. As he penned his signature on the last page, a shrill, startling tone filled his ears, and he glanced up to see that the phone on his desk was ringing uncontrollably. Sighing, he reached for it, then put it to his ear and answered "Hallo?"

"Germany, you have to come help me! I'm in a situation and I don't know what to do," a panicked, familiar voice came from the other end. "Please, Ludwig, you're the only one that can do it!"

Dammit. It gets him every time. He just couldn't say no to the boy, especially when he used his human name. He always tried to live up to the trust and expectations of his allies, but Italy had a very strange set of expectations. Rubbing his temples with his fingers, he replied "Alright, Italy. Tell me where you are and I'll go to help."

"Okay! I'm at my house, come and get me!" He sounded a bit too happy to be in any serious trouble, but if Ludwig knew anything about him, it was that he was unpredictable. In fact, it had become the one thing he could rely on in his life, that and his older brother's arrogance. Ludwig said goodbye to Italy and hung up the phone, then grabbed his wool coat off the back of his chair.

"Brüder, I'm going out!" he shouted across the house, hoping that his voice had carried far enough to be heard by Prussia, who was probably already deaf from the sound of his own voice by now. An irritated voice replied, though not the one he was expecting. Austria, who had been visiting over the weekend, exclaimed "Prussia isn't here anymore!"

That was weird, he could have sworn that he saw him a few minutes ago when he was working. He shrugged his shoulders. He probably found something "cool" to do, and ran off for the night.

Later, at Italy's House

Germany walked up the steps to Italy's front door. The hanging plants and brick porch, framed by a warm sunset, made a beautiful scene. He stopped to take a deep breath of fresh air, and listen to the tingling sound of the light breeze rustling a nearby set of wind chimes. Regardless of any circumstances, he always felt at ease when he visited the house, as if all his previous stress melted away whenever he crossed the porch.

He dang the doorbell, and almost immediately heard the pitter-patter of Italy's footsteps across the floors, which were almost entirely hardwood. Soon after, an auburn head appeared behind the engraved oval glass in the entry door. Italy flung the door open. Rather than taking any steps towards the German, he stretched his arms out wide, then wrapped them around the man and threw all his weight forward. This was a trick that Ludwig knew well. In order to keep Italy from falling flat on his face, he was forced to return the hug.

He caught the Italian in his arms, then waited for him to regain his footing. The embrace lingered for a second longer, then they separated. Italy's face brightened as he greeted his visitor. "Ciao, Ludwig! Thanks for coming!"

"Ciao..." he said awkwardly. "So, what was this emergency that you were so worked up over on the phone?"

"Oh, well I actually just wanted to see you. You haven't visited in a while, and I missed you. I figured that you would definitely come if I made it look like an emergency!"

Ludwig sighed, then stepped into the house and removed his coat, hanging it on a nearby rack. "You know, if you wanted to see me you could have just asked, and I would have come," he said. "You had me worried, calls like that usually mean you're being attacked again."

"Nope, not this time!" Italy teased. To be honest with himself, he knew that Germany's concern made him feel warm and secure compared to his usual strict attitude. Only one other person had this effect on him. Italy shook his head, and his eyes drifted to the floor. That was a long time ago.

Germany broke the silence. "I haven't seen Brüder around lately, and I'm not sure whether he's avoiding me, Rodreich, or Elizaveta. Any thoughts as to where he might be hiding?"

Italy froze up. His hands turned clammy, and it was as if he was drained of all his words to respond with. He turned his head, and regained a bit of his composure, then stammered "Y-yeah, I wouldn't know..." He was saved by the kitchen timer, which alerted him about a dish in the oven. "Oh, dinner is ready! You're going to love this one, Ludwig. I made it just for us..." Despite his best efforts to stay cheerful, he couldn't stop his voice from trailing off at the end of his sentence.

A painful, somewhat recent memory resurfaced as Italy walked into the kitchen. When he had heard the news, he immediately wanted to run to Germany, but Hungary held him back. She clung to his arm and begged him not to speak of it, because Germany hadn't taken it well. Since then, Italy couldn't bring himself to meet with Germany until today, and nothing could have prepared him for this. He worried about Ludwig every night as he lay in bed. How long would he be in denial?