(A/N Hey, everyone! I'm APHHondaKiku, and I love Hetalia and HetaOni! So I decided to do a rewrite. This will have more angst and stuff, and there will be character death. I'm not the best writer, but I'll try my best! I'd really like it if you took the time to review!)

The first deaths were Spain and Romano. Sure, everyone had been injured several times by the Thing, but not fatally wounded. Italy was the one who found them, lying in a pool of their blood. This horrific sight immediately triggered a scream of terror from him, drawing the other nations to the scene.

"What happened?" Germany demanded, bursting into the room. "Wh-" He stopped when he saw the two mangled bodies on the floor. "O-oh...oh...mein Gott..."

"What's going on?" America joined him, followed by the rest of the Allied Forces, Japan, and Prussia. They all paused when they caught sight of Romano and Spain.

No one knew what to say at first. Italy snapped out of his stupor, ran over to Germany, and buried his face in the older nation's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. This action seemed to wake everyone up; France and Canada turned around and vomited, China, Russia, and England gazed sadly at the victims, Japan tried to calm Italy down, and America, Prussia, and Germany moved forward to examine the corpses.

Italy sunk to his knees, muttering to himself. "I...I failed...I couldn't save them...I have to start over again..."

"Italy, I'm sorry...but I do not understand what you're going on about." Japan said.

"N-nevermind. I was just...talking to myself."

"Are you ok?" Japan put a hand on Italy's shoulder. He wasn't exactly sure what to say to his ally.

"I'm fine." Italy shrugged his hand off and turned away.

America came back to the awaiting nations with a grim face. "It was definitely the Thing that killed them. They were both stabbed through the chest, so they didn't suffer for long. But there were also slashes on the rest of their bodies, indicating that they went down fighting. My guess is that-"

"Shut up! We don't want to know what they look like! We don't want to hear how bloody the battle was! Just shut up!" Italy snapped, getting up and glaring coldly at America.

Everyone stared at him, stunned. Italy never rose his voice, much less told someone to shut up.

"Italy...?" America finally got out.

The Italian's amber eyes softened and he turned his attention to the ground. "I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you like that.

"...it's ok. I understand. You just lost your brother. I can't even begin to imagine what that would be like," America sympathized, glancing at Canada, who still looked sick.

Germany and Prussia threw some sheets over the bodies to hide them from view. Everyone watched with grief as the white covers slowly turned red.

"We...we'll...we'll remove them," Germany offered after a few minutes of silence. "Prussia and I will. The rest of you can go back to the safe room."

"No. He is...was...my brother. I'll help you," Italy volunteered, ignoring the surprised looks from everyone else.

"Ok. Thank you. We'll make something to eat," America said, knowing full well that no one would have the stomach to eat anything anyway. He headed for the door and motioned for the others to follow.

Prussia and Germany picked Spain up and started to carry him away, leaving Italy alone with the remains of his brother. He pulled back the bloody sheet to see Romano's face one last time. Actually, it didn't seem like he was dead. It looked like he was simply asleep. Perhaps he spilled pasta sauce on himself again, resulting in the stained uniform.

"Oh, Romano...did you make a mess of yourself again? Germany isn't going to be happy if you got sauce all over the kitchen floor." Italy brushed some stray hairs out of Romano's face and smiled fondly. "Do you remember when I accidentally spilled that bowl of pasta on the carpet? He sure was mad that time. But you told him to leave me alone. Do you remember that?"

Romano, of course, didn't answer.

Italy frowned. His brother looked...unhappy. Uncomfortable. Troubled. "What's wrong, Romano?" A bit of paper sticking out of Romano's chest pocket caught his eye. With a trembling hand, he pulled it out and opened it.

Italy,

I'm gonna be dead by the time you read this. Spain and I, we tried to fight the Thing alone, but it defeated us. Don't cry. Don't let our deaths be for nothing. Find a way out of here. Move forward, Italy. I think I see Grandpa Rome now...I have to go. Spain's waiting for me, too. Give the others my regards (even that potato bastard). Good luck.

Love, Romano

The message was sloppily written in blood. A few tears trickled down Italy's face, but he wiped them away. He knew exactly what to do; he had to rewind time again.

Just then, Germany and Prussia returned. Italy crammed the note into his pocket and yanked the sheet over Romano's face.

I'll see you again soon, brother. Alive, Italy thought.

(A/N I hope you liked it! Don't expect updates to be too fast...I'm kind of lazy sometimes.)