Germany walked into the room and sat at Italy's bedside listening to the steady beeping of the heart monitor and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. He had just been informed that Italy slipped into a coma but has been stabilized for now, he lost a lot of blood and it will take awhile for him to recover... if he does. Germany took a seat in the empty chair next to the bed.

He was experiencing the strongest mixture of emotions he had felt in a long time. He was angry at whoever did this to Italy, and a part of him wanted to hunt them down and kill them now. That is the emotion he is used to and can control, anger. Anger is easy to control, but what isn't easy to control is the other feeling. This other emotion is the sole reason he remained in his chair. He was feeling an overwhelming amount of despair. He was worried that Italy would never wake up and that scared him more that he would care to admit to anyone, and he was feeling a large amount of sadness that made him want to cry over the weak form of his ally but he managed to suppress that part. Germany slowly began to realize how much he had grown to enjoy the Italian's cheery company. He didn't know what he would do if Italy were to die. He rose from his seat and left the silent room almost as quickly as he entered.

"Germany, where are you going?" Japan asked.

"Out," and he was gone before Japan could ask any further questions.

Japan stared at the door as it closed wondering if he should go after his friend but decided to give him some time alone.

"I'll go after him if he's out for too long."

Germany walked silently down the streets until he came to a park bench and sat down.

"Why would he save my life? I've never been very nice to him, but he saved my life," Germany had begun to question wether or not he would have been able to do the same for Italy if it were Italy's life on the line.

"Hey West," Prussia sat next to his brother.

"What do you want, Prussia?"

"What's wrong? You seem sad."

"I'm fine. Leave me alone," Germany mumbled.

"No your not. If you were fine you wouldn't have said it like zat. So tell me what's wrong"

"Why do you care?"

"Because I'm your awesome older brother and it's my job to make sure you're okay," Prussia replied.

"I'm worried about Italy. He was shot and isn't doing well."

"What? That's what's bothering you? You're worried about that useless idiot?" Prussia laughed.

"He is not useless and he's my friend," Germany was getting angry at his brother.

"Well that's stupid. I wouldn't worry about him because I'm awesome and it's not like he is a useful ally anyway. You'll probably be better off without him," Prussia smugly said.

"Leave. Now," Germany nearly yelled.

"Fine, I can tell when my awesome presence isn't wanted."

Germany sat there seething in anger at his brother's ignorance toward the feelings of others. He waited until he was sure his older brother, Prussia, was gone before he got up to return to his home and check on Italy. As he walked home he nearly ran into Japan who came around a corner.

"Oh, Germany there you are. I was looking for you," Japan said.

"Why were you looking for me?"

"You have been gone for a long time. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you- okay?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No,"Germany said.

"Okay," Japan knew Germany would talk if he wanted.

"I-I'm scared... that Italy won't- wake up," Germany admitted after a moment of thought. "He's my best friend and the first person who actually wanted to be around me and not because my boss made them or they needed something from me."

"Oh..."

"What if he dies, Japan?" Germany asked.

"I don't know," Japan responded honestly, "but lets not do anything until something like that happens."

Germany nodded and began walking home again with Japan closely behind him.

Spain quietly opened to Romano's room and saw his friend laying on his bed facing the wall. He walked over and sat at the edge of Romano's bed and placed his hand on the softly shaking shoulder of the Italian.

"Romano? Are you okay?" Spain quietly asked.

"What do you think, idiota?" Romano replied with half the effort he normally put in when he spoke to the Spaniard.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Romano snapped. "I-I just, I don't know what to do. My fratello nearly bled out two weeks ago. Now he is in a coma and has shown absolutely no signs of improvement, and I felt the whole thing. On top of that no one in this stupid house knows who shot Veneziano so I have no one to blame for all of this. I want to be able to blame Germany but he seemed to concerned about my fratello for me to bring myself to blame him, and I- I- I just... don't know what to do. I can't sleep because everytime I close my eyes I see him laying there with his uniform jacket soaked in his own blood and his face paler than I've ever seen it," Romano paced the room as he spouted in one breath all of his worries. He stopped in front of the wall resting his forehead against it and banged his fist on the wall trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill over.

"It'll be okay mi amigo," Spain tried to comfort his friend.

"How can you say that?" Romano asked, "You can't know that."

Spain sat in silence not knowing what he could say that would help his friend feel any better. It hurt him to see his tomato in so much pain and worry and he didn't know what to do to comfort him.

"Every time I close my eye's all I see is him lying there with his coat soaked in his own blood and his face paler than I've ever seen it," Romano quietly repeated to himself.

Spain got off the bed and stood behind his friend. He gently turned Romano around to face him and pulled him into a hug. For once Romano didn't resist the physical contact and slowly reciprocated the action. After a moment tears began to silently fall down Romano's cheeks and land on Spain's shirt and his shoulders gently shook in silent sobs. Spain stood there rubbing gentle circles on Romano's back as his friend released the tears he had tried so hard to keep in with tears of his own slipping down his cheeks. It broke his heart to see the Italian like this.

"I'm sorry about that," Romano said when the sobs subsided and he whipped the last of his tears away.

"You don't have to apologize for caring about your brother," Spain said seriously.

"I'm going to go see Veneziano," Romano mumbled.

Spain sighed and sat on the edge of the bed and placed his head in his hands. It was killing him to see his Tomato so depressed.