"Where is he?" I yelled, running into Prussia's room. "Prussia. Where is he? Where's Italy?"

"Italy? I don't know. What's wrong bruder?"

"I have to find him." I ran out of my older brother's room and left the house. "ITALIEN?" I screamed. I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Like something went wrong because of me. Because I wasn't there. It was the same bad feeling that I had when hewas my boss. I winced, thinking about those times and how many people had died. I ran to Romano's house. He would surly call me a "potato loving jerk" when he found out that I lost Feliciano, but it didn't matter. I went into the house. "Romano! Do you know where Italy is?" My voice was rushed and worried.

"He went to your house. Did he not get there?" He sounded worried.

"No he didn't." I said, running out of the house before the other boy could say anything more. I ran the way that Italy would have gone to get to my house.

"Come si potrebbe a fianco con quella nazista? Come si potrebbe danneggiare il vostro paese? Sei debole. Non dovrebbe essere la nostra nazione. Ingannare senza spina dorsale!" (How could you side with that Nazi? How could you hurt your own country? You're weak. You should not be our nation. You spineless fool!) I heard people yelling in Italian. I only recognized one word. Nazione. Nazi. It was the word that I had been called so many times. I heard it in many languages, but it hurt most of all when it was in Italian. It was like Italy himself was saying it to me. I ran to where the voices were coming from. "Hey!" I yelled at the three men hurting a little brown haired boy. They ran away.

"Doitsu…Doitsu…aiutare…" A small, broken voice said. I ran to him.

"I-I'm here…Italien…" I said, picking him up. He was hurt badly. He didn't respond. I ran straight to my house and laid him on my bed. I then went to my bathroom and got first aid appliances. I went back to Italy who was shaking violently.

~~~~Italy's POV~~~~

"P-Please don't hurt me…" I said, backing away from the three men who were cornering me. They were muttering stuff in Italian, but I was too scared to even hear it. They hit me and kicked me. My ribs were defiantly broken and so was my wrist. They broke my nose and kicked me in the stomach. They yelled at me and used thatword to describe Germany. It hurt worse than my injuries did. Hearing them use that word was like someone stabbed me through my heart. It made me feel terrible. It made me think of the day when I called him that word. I hadn't meant to, but I did. He looked crushed. We were never the same after that day. We acted the same towards each other, but it was different. He looked at me differently. Like he was sad.

And yet he still came to save me. I love him for that.

"Italien…" I heard him saying and my eyes started to flutter open. He was leaning over me.

"Doitsu…" I said quietly.

"Italien!" He hugged me gently. "Don't ever leave me again." He said.

I felt myself start to cry. "I'm sorry D-Doitsu. I didn't mean to call you that w-word."

"Shh. It's ok. I promise. Don't cry." He said comfortingly. "It's fine. You're with me. You're with Doitsu now. You'll be safe here." He sounded like he didn't really know what to say.

"Ti amo Doitsu." I hugged him.

"Ich liebe dich Italien."