Thunder roared in the sky, lightning flashing and illuminating the dark night briefly. Prussia sat on his brother's couch, loyal to the promise he had made. Germany had went with a searching party to look for Romano, who had been missing for months. While the albino nation wanted to assist, his younger brother needed someone to guard the fort while he was gone. Prussia was reluctant to oblige.

The TV was acting up because of the lightning. It didn't matter though; there was nothing of interest on anyway. The ex-nation's ruby eyes instead focused on his DS. He was just about to capture the Legendary Xerneas and-!

Knock, knock, knock!

Prussia froze. He looked at the clock. A quarter after one in the morning. Who would come to visit at this hour? Was it his brother? Did they find Romano?

Armed only in his chick-patterned boxers, the albino rushed to answer the door. Afterall, he was just as worried about the missing country as anyone else.

The person who stood at the door nearly made Prussia fall over in shock. Soaked from the rain, beaten, battered, and stained with blood was a weary Romano!

"R-Romano!?" The ex-nation gasped, "What are you doing here!? Where have you been!? We've all been worried-!"

The eldest Italian brother didn't give Prussia a chance to finish. He toppled onto the ground, soaking the welcome mat.

Prussia laid all the blankets he could find over the wounded nation, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. He had already patched up what injuries he could with the knowledge he was equipped with. Luckily, Germany always made a habit of keeping several first-aid kits and bandages around the house.

After aiding Romano, Prussia pulled out his cellphone to call his brother.

The phone rang several times, and the eldest German brother redialed the number time after time again. However, Germany never answered.

"Of all times to ignore me…" The albino grumbled. He decided to dial Spain instead.

His Spanish friend answered, but his voice was cracked and shaking from worry. Spain was really scared for his little Roma.

"H… Hola…?" Came the weary voice of the normally cheerful nation.

"Antonio," Prussia used Spain's "human" name, as all nations were required to do when speaking to each other on the phone, "I found Lovino."

"You found Roma-er, L-Lovino!? Really!? Where are you!?"

The albino raised his eyebrow. Spain sounded strange… almost demanding. After a second thought, Prussia shrugged it off. Anyone would act strange if their child had been missing for so long, right?

"We're at my brother's house," Prussia finally answered, "He was-."

Beep, beep, beep, beep…

The ex-nation brought the phone away from his ear, giving it an intense glare.

"... He hung up on me!"

It didn't take long for Spain to show up on Germany's doorstep. Prussia let his friend in only to be pushed aside as the Spanish man rushed to check on his beloved underling.

By now, Romano was awake. The Italian shivered from both the cold and his fear. His hazel eyes were wide, darting back and forth like a maniac. When Spain entered, however, he locked his frightened eyes on his former caretaker.

The previously missing nation cried out at first before recognition and relief washed over him. He allowed his Boss to hold him in a tight embrace.

"Roma, oh, Roma…!" The Spaniard whispered, "I'm so glad you're okay!"

Romano didn't answer, merely nodded.

"What happened to you, Romano?" Prussia couldn't help himself from asking.

Again, Romano remained silent. The only person still speaking was Spain, doting on his dear Italian. Though after a moment or two, the oldest Italian seemed to finally gain the courage to speak.

"I…" He began, "I… I was kidnapped."

Both Prussia and Spain widened their eyes in shock.

"Kidnapped!?" The Spaniard repeated, earning another nod from his "Roma."

"By whom!?" The ex-nation demanded.

Once more, Romano hesitated. Doubt crossed his already disturbed features as he seemed to struggle to find words.

"Spit it out! I'll beat the fucker to death for it!" Prussia yelled, making his anger known.

"N-No!" The Italian cried out, distressed, "You can't!"

"And why not, Roma?" Spain asked.

"B… Because… Because… The person who did it was... he…" Romano swallowed before he continued, "He… He is my brother…"

Neither the ex-nation or the Spanish nation had any words. All they could do was stare at the eldest Italian in absolute amazement. Italy? As in, Italy the Coward? Why would he do this to his own brother? HOW would he?

Romano's face fell. He mumbled under his breath, "You don't believe me…"

"N-No, Roma! We believe you!" Spain assured him, "It's just…"

"Hard to take in," Prussia finished, "... really hard."

"You don't say," the sour Italian spat, characteristically sarcastic as always, "He dragged me down to our basement and he… he…"

The poor Italian clearly couldn't finish. He scrunched his eyes shut as horrible memories came back to haunt him. He buried his face into his hands, choking on heartbroken sobs.

Spain held Romano tighter in attempt to comfort him. He murmured things in Spanish that seemed to ease the traumatized nation to an extent.

The albino saw this as a sign to leave the two alone for a minute. Besides, he needed time to think.

Prussia made himself some bratwurst and sat back down on the couch. He still couldn't quite grasp the idea of little Italy showing any cruel tendencies. Though very cowardly, the younger Italian was such a albino didn't think he had a bad cell in his body.

Could Romano have been fooled? Unlikely. Brothers as close as the Italians were wouldn't mistake the other for someone else.

But why would Italy Veneziano harm his big brother? From what Prussia understood, the younger sibling adored Romano… t-to an extent. Even when you're Italy, one can only handle so much Romano.

Perhaps that was it? Romano did have a tendency to verbally abuse people he cared about. Maybe he said something that made Italy snap.

Whatever the case, Prussia had to tell Germany. If Italy really was dangerous, he would need to know right away.

Finishing off the rest of his bratwurst, Prussia drew out his phone once more.

Still no answer, no matter how he tried.

Sighing, the albino checked the time again. Half past four in the morning. Had he really been sitting on the couch thinking for that long? Perhaps it was stupid to think that his brother would be awake to answer his phone right now.

He set his phone down on the side table and went to go check on Romano and Spain in his brother's bedroom. They might like something to eat as well.

When he went in, however, both the Spaniard and the Italian were gone.

"... Romano?" Prussia called out, "... Spain? Where did you guys go?"

The bed was in disarray now, blankets hanging half on the mattress and half on the floor. Pillows were scattered across the room.

"... The hell? Did… Did they have a spontaneous pillow fight? How did I not hear…?"

The window was open, the curtains whipping wildly from the stormy winds.

Something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut. Did Italy or whoever it was break in to take Romano back? No, surely Prussia would have heard something. Shuffling, anything…

Spain's car revved up in the driveway.

Instinctively, Prussia rushed out the front door, still only wearing his boxers. He barely got there in time to see Spain driving off with a terrified Romano in the passenger seat. The look on the older Italian's face was all the ex-nation needed.

He ran to the garage and hopped on his motorcycle. His lack of a license meant nothing at this point. He was not going to let poor Romano get kidnapped again.

By the time the garage door opened, Spain was already out of the driveway and on the flooded streets. Prussia gave his handle a jerk and his bike roared to life. It was gonna be a wet, bumpy ride.

Slamming the pedal to the metal, the albino zoomed out of his driveway, chasing after the Spaniard.

Of course, Spain wouldn't go easy on his pursuer just because they had been friends. He made sure to take sharp, unpredictable turns in attempt to lose him.

Prussia, however, stayed right on his tail until Spain faked him out. While Prussia turned on the road he had expected Spaniard to turn on, Romano and his captor flew straight ahead.

"Fuck!" The ex-nation swore as he took the time to turn around. He would not lose Romano like this!

But it was too late. Before Prussia could make a U-Turn, Spain had already vanished onto another road. There was no telling which way he could have gone.

The still half naked nation ran a frustrated hand through his white hair. He swore several times before driving back home. He would need to come up with a plan before blindly chasing after Spain again.

Dressed in a white undershirt and open flannel shirt with dark jeans and converse, Prussia contemplated as to where Spain could have taken Romano to. His first guess was Spain's house, but surely he wouldn't be that stupid.

… Second thoughts told him yes. Yes, he would be that stupid.

First, the ex-nation would check Spain's house. Then, if the two of them weren't there, he would check Italy's house. There was a possibility Spain could be working with Italy… The two had become very close, especially after Romano disappeared.

Prussia didn't even have to go inside to be able to tell they weren't there. The garage door and front door were both wide open. Furthermore, there was not a sign of Spain's car anywhere. The Spaniard must have really been in a hurry to leave both of those doors open.