When I wrote I Will Always Return, I thought, Well what if someone was angry about Holy Rome's death. So here you go. Enjoy!

I do not own Hetalia!

Cause and Effect

2nd December, 2005.

That he would be here, on today of all days, was an insult and, at the same time, poetic justice. For on this day he would pay for his actions of so long ago. Hidden in the bushes, he would never see his nemesis, not even when it was too late.

The hidden assailant watched his target through the leaves as the blonde-haired blue-eyed man paced around the solitary tombstone as if waiting for someone. Someone he was not going to see.

Today, France would pay for his crime.


Italy would be here any minute. Of course he would want to come here today. It's been two hundred years since it happened and both of them had their own reasons to remember that day. None of them good.

It was strange, Holy Rome's enemy and Holy Rome's childhood sweetheart, but with the exception of Prussia and Austria, no two people had known Holy Rome better. Well, maybe Hungary.

France paced around the frost-coated grass around the lone tombstone to keep his feet warm but he stopped to look at the stone.

Here Lies Holy Roman Empire

Died 2nd December 1805

Dearly missed.

France did miss the late diminutive empire, even though he had been his enemy at the Battle of Austerlitz. He had been ordered to destroy Holy Rome, the worse thing a boss could demand of his nation. France did not want to do it. Napoleon demanded it of him and a personification was required to obey his boss.

But only three people knew what really happened that day. He had never even told Italy the truth to protect him from the tragedy so today would be hard. To reminisce with Italy while hiding the truth.

Speaking of Italy, he should be here be now. Where is he?

Then he heard the crunch of frost behind him but before he could turn round, a cloth was clamped over his nose and mouth. The smell of chloroform drifted into his nostrils and he began to struggle but his attacker managed to keep the cloth in place and France soon became light-headed.

Darkness soon followed.


"Germany!"

What was Italy doing here? He was supposed to be meeting France today, something about two hundred years since the lost of an old friend. He sounded worried and when he looked up to see the auburn-haired nation with the stray curl in the doorway to his study, he realised he looked worried.

"Ja, Italy," he replied, putting away the paperwork he had just finished. "What's wrong?"

"I was supposed meet France but he didn't turn up," Italy said. "He didn't answer his phone so I went to France's house and his housekeeper said he'd set off and no one's seen him since."

"Maybe he met up with Prussia and Spain," Germany replied. "You know how the Bad Touch Trio are when they get together."

"I've been to see them," Italy told him. "They haven't seen him all day. I'm worried, Germany."

"Okay," Germany answered. "I'll talk to England, America and, oh who is he?, America's twin. You go and see Austria, Hungary and Switzerland and see if they've seen him."

"But Switzerland always tries to shoot me!" Italy wailed.

"All right," Germany conceded. "I'll talk to Switzerland. You talk to Netherlands. They sometimes trade."

"Oki doki," Italy said and ran off on his errand.


The first thing France saw when he woke up was …. nothing. Everything was black and in his drowsy state, he at first thought he had gone blind. It did not take him long to realise that he was blindfolded.

The next thing he discovered was he was handcuffed to a chair by his hands and his ankles so he was not going anywhere any time soon.

He listened carefully but there was no indication that there was anyone with him. The only sound was of his own breathing and the clink of the handcuffs when he tested them.

What happened to him? Why had he been kidnapped? What did they want with him?

Suddenly there was the sound of a door being unlocked and opened. Then he heard it shut.

"Well," a voice said. "Awake at last." The voice sounded distorted with an echo, like someone using a voice changer.

"Who are you?" France asked with as much confidence as he could muster. "What do you want?"

"Who I am is not important," the voice replied. "What I want, now that's another matter."

"Is this about ransom?"

"You think I care about money?" the voice sneered. "I don't need money. What I want is revenge." Francis was stunned. Revenge? He could only think of one person who would want revenge against him but would England go to this extreme?

"Is that you, Angleterre?" he asked. "If so, you have carried this prank too far."

"What makes you think I'm England?"

"If you're not Angleterre, then who are you?" France asked. "What have I ever done to you that you want revenge for?"

"It's not what you did to me," came the mocking reply. "It's what you did to HIM!"

Him! Who was Him!

"Who?" asked Francis. "Who did I wrong? Please tell me why I'm being punished!"

"Think about it," the voice teased. "Given the time of year, I'm sure you'll think of something." The door opened, shut again and the door was locked.

The time of year? What did that mean? It would be Christmas soon but somehow France did not think that had anything to do with it. But he realised one thing. If they were using a voice changer then it was because he might recognise the voice and his gaoler knew he meant England when he said Angleterre so he was a nation.

Which meant it was someone he knew!


All the nations were worried. No one had seen France.

England had been with Her Majesty all day and had not seen anyone. America had been sleeping off an all-night marathon on his X box and Canada had been at a hockey game. Austria had been practising his piano all day and Hungary was at a yaoi convention with Japan. Switzerland said if he had seen France he would have shot him rather than let him anywhere near Liechtenstein. Netherlands had not seen him either.

Other countries promised to keep an eye out for him, Russia said he would keep him safe if he saw him by 'becoming one with him' at which point Belarus also promised to 'take care of him' while playing with her knife. Germany thought it would be a good idea if he found France first.

Prussia and Spain went looking in all their usual, and unusual, spots but there was no sign. They look through France's little black book and rang all his girlfriends (and boyfriends) numbers. None of them had seen him.

Night had fallen with no sigh of the french nation and everyone began to worry. America, Canada and, surprisingly, England would arrive tomorrow.

Morning came and France was still missing.


"Figured it out yet?"

The words pulled France out of his sleep as well as the kick to the chair. He shook the cobwebs from his head and turned in the direction of the voice.

"The only person I can think of with a strong grudge is Angleterre," France replied. "Angleterre, is it you?" There was a sharp pain in his cheek as his gaoler slapped him.

"You have a short memory," he said. "Think of the date, France. Think of what happened on yesterday's date!" Yesterday's date! It fell into place at last.

"The Battle of Austerlitz!" he breathed. "Holy Roman Empire's death." This time he was punched.

"You don't say his name," the voice snapped, a trace of accent coming through the voice changer but was too faint for France to place it. "You ended his life, you don't get to sully his memory."

This was about Holy Rome! This person wanted revenge for his death, after all this time. Was it the bi-centennial anniversary that brought this person to France, wanting him to pay?

Who was he? The only nations who were close to Holy Rome were Austria, Prussia, Hungary and Italy. Austria and Prussia knew the truth about what happened to Holy Rome and Italy always blamed Napoleon for giving the order. That left Hungary but that did not seem right either. If she blamed him, she would just beat him to death with her frying pan.

There had to someone or something else, that he was missing.

"I don't know what he was to you," France said. "But you don't understand …..." His hair was grabbed and his head yanked back harshly.

"Don't tell me what I don't understand," the voice hissed, full of hate. "I understand that, because of you, Holy Rome never made it home to the ones that loved him. He didn't get the chance to grow up. He should be here now but he's not because of you."

"You don't know what happened that day," Francis grunted through the pain. "There are things that ….." He was slapped again.

"YOU KILLED HIM!" the voice shouted. "THAT'S ALL I NEED TO KNOW!" France's head was released.

"Please!" he begged. "You have to liste ..." There was the sound of a gun being cocked and something metallic was pressed against his head.

"Not another word!" the voice was almost a whisper. "You're lucky I've let you live this long. If you want to see another day, shut up!" France knew it would be a bad idea to push it.

"Think about what you did!" the cold metal moved away from his head and footsteps moved across the room and out the door. France's head fell on to his chest.

This was a complete mess.


A search party was assembled at Germany's house. England, America and Canada arrived early, followed by Prussia, Spain and Austria of all people. Italy was making breakfast for everyone while the others drew up a search strategy.

"Who was the last person to see him?" England asked. He knew everyone was surprised that he came to help find the frog but he had a bad feeling about what might have happened to Francis. He did not hate the frog that much!

"His housekeeper," Germany replied. "When he failed to keep his appointment with Italy, he went to France's house to see if he was there. His housekeeper said he'd left."

"Why was he meeting Italy?" America asked.

"Something about remembering a lost friend," Germany answered. "He didn't say who."

"Holy Roman Empire," Austria said.

"Who?"

"Holy Roman Empire existed before you did, Germany," Austria replied. "He represented the landmass before you. He went to war against France and was killed at the Battle of Austerlitz. The Empire was dissolved."

"So France was his enemy," Germany mused. "What about Italy?"

"Italy lived in my house then along with Holy Rome," Austria explained. "They were childhood sweethearts. Italy was devastated when he was killed."

"His sweetheart and his killer?" Spain said in surprise.

"France didn't want to do it," Austria answered. "Napoleon gave the order and Italy knew that. The other day was the 2nd of December. Two hundred years since Holy Rome's death, that's why I'm here. I don't think that's a coincidence."

"You think he might have disappeared because of some sort of guilt," England asked.

"No," Austria replied. "I think he could have been taken!" Everyone turned to look at Austria.

"Why do you..."

"Germany!"

"Ja, Italy," Germany answered.

"We've got no bread left," Italy said. "I'll just go and get some."

"Okay, Italy." Italy left the house.

"Now, Austria," Germany continued. "Why do you think France might have been kidnapped?"

"France has nothing to feel guilty for," Austria replied. "Napoleon gave the order to execute Holy Rome but France refused to do it. Napoleon did it himself and France was punished for his disobedience. So the only other thing I can think of is someone took him, someone who thinks France did kill Holy Rome and wants him to suffer." Prussia nodded.

"Who would hate him that much?"

"That's just it," Austria threw his hands in the air. "The only people who were close to Holy Rome were myself, Prussia, Hungary and Italy. Prussia and I know the truth and Italy has always blamed Napoleon. And if Hungary blamed France, she'd have smacked him with her skillet a long time ago. She's rather straight forward like that."

"So we have no suspects," England concluded. "That's if he was taken. Suppose he had some kind of accident?"

"Yeah!" America replied. "Maybe we should check the hospitals?"

"Ja," Germany said. "We should still consider kidnap but if you and England can check the local hospitals, that would be a help. In the meantime, the rest of us can keep looking."

"Sounds like a plan!"


He stood outside the door of the room where his captive was being kept. What was he waiting for? True, if he killed France he would just come back, a personification would not stay dead as long as his country still existed, but it would be a punishment to kill France and then do it again, and again. And again. So why could he not bring himself to do it? And why had he brought him food? He should just let him starve!


France moved as much as he could to keep from growing stiff from sitting in one spot for too long. He quickly found that the chair was fastened to the floor so he was well and truly trapped.

The door opened and closed. Footsteps came toward him and France could feel his captor's body heat as they stopped in front of him.

"I expect you're hungry right now," the distorted voice sneered. France did not say anything but his stomach did. There was a rustling and something that tasted like bread was shoved into his mouth. He took a bite and chewed.

"You should be lucky I'm feeding you," the voice huffed. France finished chewing and swallowed.

"Why are you?" he asked. "You seem to hate me so much, why worry if I'm hungry?"

"Who says I'm worried?" his captor snapped, pushing the bread to France's mouth again and he took another bite. "Maybe I want you in good health so when I finally punish you, you'll be able to feel it, ever think of that!" France swallowed his second bite.

"You'll be punishing an innocent person," he declared. "I didn't kill him!" The bread was forced into his mouth so he could not talk any more.

"You would say that," the voice hissed. "Anything to save your worthless hide. But you did! You did it in the name of YOUR emperor so don't try to talk your way out of this." The bread was pulled back and just placed against his mouth again.

"Just eat!" the voice commanded. "Talk again and I'll take it away along with the water I brought." France could last longer without food but he needed liquids so he kept quiet.


A check of the hospitals proved fruitless. No one answering France's description had been admitted so they were now considering the kidnap theory with some urgency. Italy had returned and laid out breakfast, after which everyone left to look for their missing friend or frienemy in some cases.

Despite their prickly relationship, Prussia had teamed up with Austria and they were searching the area near Holy Rome's grave.

"Perhaps it's time to tell everyone the whole truth," Prussia commented. "Keeping it a secret might have lead to this mess."

"We did what we did because we had to," Austria stated. "If Napoleon knew what really happened after he killed Holy Rome, there would have been hell to pay."

"I understand that," Prussia replied. "But Napoleon's dead and gone. So he's not relevant any more."

"We also did it to protect certain people," Austria reminded him. "And that's still relevant!"

"I suppose," Prussia conceded. "This is so unawesome." They reached the grave and stared at the stone.

"It's strange looking at that tombstone," Prussia commented. Austria shrugged.

"It's fitting," he said. "Holy Rome did die, sort of! The only thing wrong is the date." Prussia sighed.

"I didn't like lying to everyone," he mused. "At least everyone knows that France didn't kill him now."

"Everyone but his captor!"


Germany called as many nations as he could, casting the search net further afield as more and more possible places for him to be were eliminated. He finally put the phone down with a sigh. He kept running scenarios in his head. Was the date simply a coincidence? Could an ordinary human have grabbed him? Someone who had found out about the nations and wanted a trophy specimen? A scientist who wanted to see what kept them alive and young for centuries? Some fanatic who thought nations were the work of the devil and wanted to find a way to destroy them?

None of the scenarios were good.

"Germany!" Italy stood at the door of his study.

"Ja," he replied. "Come in, Italy." Italy entered and sat down in front of him, wringing his hands.

"Do you think we'll find France?" he asked.

"We'll find him," Germany promised.

"And it happened on Holy Rome's death anniversary too," Italy commented. Germany could hear the sadness in his voice. Germany wanted to know more about this dead empire who meant so much to his friend.

"Tell me about him?" he asked.

"Ve~ Holy Rome?" Italy replied. "When I first knew him, he was always chasing me. He wanted me to join his empire and I didn't want to. Then I was taken over by Austria and had to live in his house as his servant and Holy Rome lived with us. He was scary at first but then he asked me to teach him to draw. He would get so frustrated because he thought he wasn't very good. The more time I spent with him, the more I began to like him. And then I began to love him. Then he went to fight France. He wanted me to join him and become a powerful nation but I said no."

"Why?" Germany asked. That did not make sense to him that Italy would pass up the chance to become strong enough to defend himself.

"Because that's what Grandpa Rome would have done," Italy replied. "And he became too powerful and died. I didn't want that to happened to Holy Rome." Suddenly, many things made sense to Germany. Why Italy was so weak and relied on him to protect him. Perversely, Italy had a subconscious fear of power.

"Holy Rome left for war and never returned," Italy finished. "He was killed and the empire he represents was dissolved." Germany had researched the history of Holy Rome since hearing about the former empire. It all struck some kind of cord with him but there was something he did not understand.

"Holy Rome died at the Battle of Austerlitz in December 1805," he mused. "but his empire wasn't dissolved until August 1806. Surely he should have come back, if only for the few months?"

"I don't know why he didn't resurrect," Italy admitted. "Maybe he was too weak by then?"

"Perhaps," Germany replied. "Anyway, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks, Germany," Italy smiled , sadly. "You know, you look a lot like Holy Rome, if he had ever grown up. We were both child nations when he died."

"That's doubly tragic," Germany replied, sympatheticly. "No child should die, not even a nation!"

"Yet it happens," Italy said with a dark look in his eyes.

"Unfortunately!"


"What are we doing at Italy's house?"

Austria had dragged Prussia to Venice and they were standing outside Italy's residence, Prussia looking perplexed.

"France was supposed to meet Italy," Austria replied. "Maybe he got impatient and came here, looking for him."

"Would he still be here after two days?"

"No, but there might be some sign he was here," Austria reasoned. "Maybe even a note as to where he went."

"Italy would have found it by now, wouldn't he?" Prussia asked.

"I don't think Italy's been home since before France vanished."

"It's a long shot but we've tried everything else."

Inside was as silent as the grave as they made their way through the house to Italy's study. Italy's desk was chaotic with papers everywhere. Prussia picked up a calender on which the 2nd of December was circled in red with FRANCE written in the center.

"Is Italy very forgetful?" he asked.

"He can be," Austria replied. "Why?" Prussia showed him the calender.

"It might be remind himself that he was meeting France on that day," Austria replied, picking up a piece of paper and looking at it.

"What's that?" Prussia asked.

"It seemed to be a lease on some kind of warehouse," Austria replied.

"What does he want with a warehouse?" Prussia wondered. "Some kind of storage?"

"Could be. Look around some more." Prussia moved forward and knocked over the waste basket, scattering its contents over the floor.

"Be careful, Prussia."

"Ja, ja," he replied, kneeling down and picking up the rubbish and putting it back in the basket. He picked up what looked like a photograph and looked at it.

And his blood ran cold.


France heard the door slam open and knew that his captor had returned and he was not happy.

"Holy Rome never should have died and you shouldn't get to live when he can't," the voice was undisguised and the accent recognisable.

Mon Dieu! No, please. Not him!

The blindfold was whipped off his eyes and when they finally focused, found himself looking down the single black eye of a hand gun. Looking above the gun his eyes met the flashing, hate filled, beautiful amber eyes of Italy.

On the way here, Germany's words No child should die, not even a nation ran around in his head until all the grief and anger he had harboured for two hundred years was whipped up into a fury that lead him to point a gun at his beloved's killer's head.

France sat, confronted by a nation he had never seen direct a look of hate at anyone before, not even the nations he had ever been at war with, but now directed at him. The wrong word could get him shot. He would come back but he was not eager to stop a bullet and if Italy were to shoot and then learn the truth...

He did not think the italian nation would be able to live with himself.

"Italy, please, you don't know what you're doing," he warned. "I never realised you hated me so much." Italy's lip quivered.

"Napoleon might have given the order," he snarled. "But you carried it out. You physically killed Holy Rome!"

"No," France denied. "I didn't!"


Austria and Prussia made it to the address on the warehouse lease, knowing this is where they would find France and, possibly, Italy. Prussia was still carrying the photograph he had found. It was a picture of France and it had been drawn on. Not the silly glasses and moustache that childish people scribble. This was all lines like someone trying to completely erase him from existence.

"I can't believe Italy is the one who took France," Prussia said in shock. "He was never the type to hate anyone."

"You underestimate how strong his feelings were for Holy Rome," Austria replied. "Everyone has their limit. What scares me is that Italy must have been planning this for some time. It seems Italy's fooled everybody into thinking he's useless. He alerted us to France's disappearance so we never suspected he had anything to do with it. He quite effectively steered us away from him."

"Well, now that we know, we better hope we find him in time!"


"I'm telling you, Italy," France insisted. "I didn't kill Holy Rome!"

Italy was now holding his gun in both hands that were shaking in rage.

"STOP LYING!" he shouted, tears crawling down his face. "Napoleon gave the order to you to execute Holy Rome!"

"BUT I NEVER CARRIED IT OUT!" France stated. "I refused to. To kill in battle is one thing but to kill in cold blood! I could never do that, especially to a fellow nation."

"He's telling the truth, Italy!"

Italy turned his head to see Austria and Prussia in the doorway.

"Ja, it's true," Prussia clarified. "He was punished for disobeying his bosses orders. Napoleon executed Holy Rome himself. Italy, please put the gun down. France is innocent. Well, innocent of that anyway." Italy looked uncertain.

"If France had killed Holy Rome, would I lie to protect him?" Austria reasoned. "He was my enemy as much as Holy Rome's. Italy, you must believe me."

"Tell him everything!" Prussia advised. "He should know."

"Know what?" Italy asked. Austria looked at Prussia who nodded and he looked back at Italy.

"Holy Rome isn't dead!"

Italy dropped the gun. Prussia checked Italy's pockets for the key to the handcuffs and went to release France.

"But you said Napoleon …..?"

"Yes, he did," Austria replied. "But the Holy Roman Empire still existed so Holy Rome came back. Napoleon didn't know that would happen but if he found out Holy Rome was alive, he'd try again so France requested mine and Prussia's help to hide him and we pretended he was dead, even putting up a fake tombstone to convince everyone until it was safe to come back. But then the empire ceased to exist."

"Then how can he be alive?" Italy asked. "If the nation doesn't exist, neither does the personification."

"Prussia no longer exists," Prussia pointed out. "But I'm still here."

"Holy Rome fell into a coma," Austria explained. "He remained in one for eight years. In 1814, he woke up!"

"Then why didn't he come back?"

"He didn't come back intact, Italy," Austria replied. "He came back with the mind of an infant and he had to learn to do everything again. He also came back with no memory so Holy Rome effectively died but his body continued. We didn't tell you because we didn't think you could take it."

Italy thought about that. It would have been the same as when he lost Grandpa Rome and he realised that Austria was right. He would not have been able to cope.

"Where is he now?" he asked.

"He grew up," Prussia added, helping France to his feet. "He's a personification of a new country and you know him."

"What!" Austria put his hands on both of Italy's upper arms.

"Italy, who do you constantly stay around?" he asked. "Who even resembles Holy Rome?" Italy gasped.

"Germany!"

"Italy, he has no memory of being Holy Rome," Prussia warned. "He's not just cut off from his memories of being Holy Rome, they've been been completely erased. It's no good telling him who he used to be. We tried."

"He's right," Austria agreed. "His life as Holy Rome is gone. He's Germany now but perhaps a little something remains. He's practically been with you since you met and he did promise to return. Maybe that's why he held on to this life." That made Italy smile.

Then he turned and saw France.

"I'm sorry!" he cried and wrapped his arms around France. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" France embraced Italy.

"We should have told you," France replied, hugging Italy tightly. "But you never showed any animosity toward me. If I knew you were feeling this way, I would have told you everything."

"You must hate me," Italy wailed. France pulled back and held Italy's face in his hands.

"No, Italy," he reassured. "I'm sorry you've been in all this pain, all this time when we could have helped you."

"Everybody's going to know what I did!"

"He's right," Prussia said. "We need a cover story. Not just to protect Italy but Germany too. If this gets out, everyone will know about Germany being Holy Rome. He'd have to cope with hearing about a life he doesn't remember."

"I had an accident," France suggested. "And I was stuck far from help."

"What about your phone?" Austria asked.

"Broken in the accident."

"It could work," Prussia commented. "Might involve some acting though."

"Whatever it takes!"


Prussia called Germany to say that they had found France and had taken him to Austria's house. It did not take long for the other nations to descend on them. France was put into bed in one of Austria's guest rooms and when the others arrived, he gave a convincing performance of a recuperating man.

"What happened, dude?" America asked.

"I fell into a hidden crevasse," France gave the practised story they had devised on the way to Austria's house. "I twisted my ankle and couldn't climb out. I managed to get to a small cave and start a fire. I couldn't call anyone, my phone was broken. Then I heard Austria and Prussia talking nearby and called out to them. The rest you know."

"You were so lucky," England said. "You could have frozen out there."

"Oh! Mon petit lapin," France replied, putting his hand over his heart. "I'm touched you care so much!"

"Piss off, frog!"

"Please don't do that again, amigo," Spain plead. "I think I've aged ten years these past two days."

"I apologise, mon ami."

Italy came into the room with drinks for everyone. The last to be served was Germany. When he was given his beer, he nearly spilt it when Italy suddenly wrapped his arms around his waist and hugged with all his might. England, America, Canada and Spain stared at him. Prussia, Austria and France looked at each other. Was Italy about to give them away?

"What was that for, Italy?" Germany asked. Italy realised that his impulsive action could make everyone a little suspicious.

"Well," he said, thinking on his feet, for once. "I thought we'd lost France and I thought, what if I lost Germany, and I just had to hug you." That seemed to satisfy everyone who were used to Italy not making sense.

France, Prussia and Austria were a little worried, though. Italy was having trouble of letting go of Holy Rome and needed to start thinking of Germany as Germany. He needed to accept that Holy Rome was gone.

"I propose a toast," France said, holding up the glass of wine that Italy had brought him. "Because of the accident I couldn't do this before but I propose a toast to a lost friend. To Holy Roman Empire!" Italy turned and looked at France who looked meaningfully back at him.

Everyone else raised their drinks and toasted, "To Holy Roman Empire!"

"To Holy Roman Empire!" Italy said, raising his own glass of wine and looking at Germany. Everyone took a sip of their drinks. As everyone settled into conversations, Italy looked at Germany and realised that his future was now bound up with Germany and he had to let go of the past so he whispered.

"Goodbye, Holy Rome."

When I wrote I Will Always Return, Holy Rome died at the Battle of Austerlitz but the empire existed for another eight months so this was an explanation why the personification seemed to die before the empire and how Germany could be Holy Rome and not remember. It was also a way for Italy to finally let go of Holy Rome. I thought about Italy doing worse to France but real viciousness is not part of his nature so I made him just a little bit Ooc.

Hope you liked!

Hasta la Pasta!