I should have said this in the first chapter: The updates for this story are going to be a lot slower than those for 'The Italian Girl'. Sorry about that! I'll do my very best to post them up as quickly as I can, but I'm just giving you a little heads up. ^.^ Thank you for reading this story!

The world had not changed. Italy had forgotten that. She was bathed in Germany's affection as he recovered in the medical hut. In spite of the war around her, Italy slept better that night than she had done in weeks.

The morning did not keep her feelings of content rooted. The early sun served only to banish them like a spirit. Germany had got up and told Italy that they had to go back on the battlefield. Italy could only squeak in fear and denial while Germany put his military uniform on and grabbed her wrist. There was a familiar touch to Italy's skin, but it was nearly overridden by the strict force he was applying. Some German soldiers were outside. They saluted their commanding officer before following his orders to scout the area and take out any opposing officer without hesitation.

To say the world had not changed is perhaps incorrect. It had been made worse. There had been a setback on the Axis's half – a huge setback due to Germany's injury. Italy did not realise it until that morning. Even though Germany had survived the shot wound, it still had a devastating effect on the Axis. With the country wounded so, the Allies had perfect opportunity to invade and conquer North Africa. The Axis had been struggling to fend off the Allies for so long. It now seemed to have been for nothing.

Italy ran beside Germany. She gasped, trying to summon a proper breath. The air stabbed her throat and corroded her lungs like grit was circulating inside them. She choked as if underwater. Germany continued to run. Italy caught the quick glance of his icy blue eyes. He smiled roughly and turned back to the direction of his run. Italy didn't know if she should have felt reassured. Germany's eyes held no emotion – they were the focused blue concentrating only on what he needed to do to win this war. This horrible war.

The trenches were cold and muddy. Their smell reminded Italy of death. She shuddered in the dark air.

'Ve… Germany… Are you sure you're Ok?' Italy asked quietly. Her voice echoed slightly under ground level. She could see the white swirls of her breath in the lonely air.

He grunted, handling his gun. 'Ja, Italy. I'm fine.'

Germany's words were harsh. They weren't harsh to punish Italy, but rather moulded by the situation. He snapped his gun back into place.

There was the sound of oncoming soldiers. Germany shot his head up like a wild animal. His eyes became scary. Italy could see his knuckles whiten as he gripped the weapon. She gasped. Those soldiers sounded familiar. They were Italian.

'Ve! No Germany…! Those are mine…!' Italy stood up. Even with her naturally ditzy nature, Italy knew her own men from the enemies.

'Miss Italy!' the young soldiers shouted in unison. 'We have a letter for you! It's urgent from the boss…!'

They made their way into the trench, nervously passing the German with trembling salutes. They approached their leader and handed her the letter. Italy thanked them and opened it. She only had to read the first two lines for her face to go white. She clenched the paper, tearing it a bit. Her hand trembled.

'V…V-e-e…' she stammered. Tears welled up.

'Italy?' Germany's voice sounded. He pushed past the smaller soldiers and gripped Italy's shoulders. She barely noticed him – her eyes were blinded by tears and her arms had gone numb. 'Italy, what's wrong?'

'V-e-e… It's S-Sicily… t-they've invaded… Sicily...' she choked.

'Oh… Gott,' Germany cursed. 'My troops couldn't hold them back? First Africa and now Sicily?'

The two Italian soldiers gasped in horror. Clearly, Germany had been shouting at them specifically. They began explaining frantically in Italian. Germany shouted at them, telling them he couldn't follow. 'Italy! Italy! Listen! I will go to Sicily and fight these bastards off, you hear me?'

Senses returned to the young girl with a painful snap. 'Ve! G-Germany! I-I'm going, too!'

His face twisted in refusal. Italy was scared only for a split second. Her responsibility as a country swept over her for the first time in her life. 'Ve! Please Germany! Let me help you!'

The German stared at her with little expression. He closed his eyes slowly and nodded. 'Fine, but you need to be on your highest guard.' He turned back to the troops. 'You two! Spread the word! Get as many German and Italian troops to Sicily from here as quickly as you can! Now!'

They yelped in fear before casting shaky salutes and scurrying out of the trench. Germany turned to Italy. 'Let's go.'

The island was not an island anymore. It was a graveyard. A torture chamber. Italy fell to her knees with a cry of terror.

'Italy!' Germany shouted. 'Pull yourself together! Quick!'

He dragged Italy up, her strength having evaporated. They ran through the rubble and dust. Germany told his soldiers to help protect the Italians, but the feedback he was receiving was not positive. The Allies had got a strong hold on Sicily.

Italy's mind flashed to Romano. She hadn't heard anything form him in so long. This was close to his home. She squeaked in fear.

'Sh-shit!' Germany hissed. Italy saw the source of his curse. There were Allied troops just ahead of them. Germany threw himself behind a building, dragging Italy with him. 'Get back, Italy!'

Gunshots were fired from both sides. Italy could only cover her ears as uselessly as before, hoping with every fibre of her strength that it would stop and Germany would be victorious.

'Italy! Run! A bomb!'

Her ears caught Germany's alert with ease, and her legs responded with the same ease. She jolted from her standing position. The explosion forced her forward so that she landed with a painful thump to the ground. She screamed out as her thigh was torn against sharp stone. The crimson pulsed from the wound, making her feel nauseous. Trying to move her left arm, Italy realised it was damaged, too. She cradled it, unsure which injury was worse. Her arm was screaming with pain, while her leg was bleeding quite heavily, nerves shot.

'Dammit! The German got away!' sounded a rough English voice. 'Where is that Italian he was with? Did we get her at least?'

Italy gasped, scrambling in agony to flee from her spot. With the sudden movement, her leg throbbed in pain, forcing a few tears from her eyes. Her arm was limp against her side, supported loosely by her other arm. Buildings became nothing but tall blurs against her panicked vision. Italy gasped and choked, desperate for water. Her throat was raw with dust and panic.

'G-Germany's Ok,' she choked to herself. Saying it aloud would reassure her more, Italy believed. 'He got away! They said so!'

Weapons screamed around her, but Italy could not see the source of the dangers. All she wanted to do was hide. She stopped, leaning over to catch shaky breaths. She believed she was alone, safe for a small time.

Then a voice of alarm sounded. It was the voice of the opposition. Her heart stopped as if the voice was death itself.

Italy shook like there was an earthquake around her. There might as well have been. With the bombs and gunshots, the ground always felt like it was vibrating. The German soldiers were gone. They were all lying forever on the ground around Italy. She let a short, sharp cry of fear escape her throat. Italy didn't know what else to do. The Allied troops were now aiming their guns at her. She was going to be shot.

'V-Ve! Ve! Please don't shoot me!' she cried. 'Why would any of you shoot a pathetic little girl such as myself?'

At this desperate and seemingly hopeless point in time, anything Italy said could surely only improve her chances of survival. Nothing could have possibly made her situation worse. She saw her buildings crumbled into ruins and her land destroyed by the Allies. There was no way in hell this could get any worse.

'Hold your fire!' A cocky and familiar voice shouted over the soldiers' heads.

The troops reluctantly lowered their weapons as they made a path for the commanding officer. He stepped in front of them, he blue eyes focused solely on Italy. His confident pose struck chords of familiarity in Italy's heart.

America smiled to Italy. She could only look to him with eyes of confusion and fear – both feelings danced feverishly in Italy's gut. Neither could quite gain the majority.

'Don't shoot her,' America said more softly. The troops behind him looked to each other with raised eyebrows. America kneeled down. 'Girl, you're so cute. I feel bad about what we're doing to you and your country. But you know how wars go; America does what's best because he's the hero!'

'Ve?'

'You know we, the Allies led by me, are winning this war. We're beating the Germans back like there's no tomorrow, yo!' America cheered. 'Italy, why don't you join us, the Allies?'

Italy's heart leapt like it had been poked with a sharp rod. She shot her eyes to the confident American kneeling before her. 'V-ve? What?'

'You heard me, girl,' he said. The cheerful tone in his voice was completely unfitting for the situation, but that was simply America, Italy thought.

'I…' she looked to the ground. Her leg had been severely gashed with the explosion and her arm was showing a deep purple bruise. She had been battered and weakened to nearly beyond her limit. Italy's heart cried out for a victory. It cried out for freedom of the shackles of war. Italy wanted to go back to her normal life with Germany. 'Ve… Germany…'

'Don't worry about him! Even when he does loose, he'll still be the stubborn old tightwad he always was!' America said. 'Well, cutie?'

Italy began to cry. It was all she had the energy to do. 'A-America, n-no! I-I wanna st-stay with Germany…! I l-love him!'

The American whined. 'Italy! You know we have won! Think about it! I'm letting you have an opportunity that will guarantee your safety!'

Those words dangled before Italy. They were tempting words. She looked to America with pained eyes. The tears flowed soundlessly. 'Safety… Ve…'

America held out his hand. Italy looked to it. It hung there, waiting without a falter. America was not nervous. Not a flinch was bestowed on his features.

Italy found herself reaching for it, and when her small hand was held in America's, Italy could have sworn she heard a familiar cry in the distance. But a cry from whom?

I know what you're all thinking… Well, I think I do… 'Italy and America?' They are cute (I think), but I swear, Germany and Italy is my tip-top priority! Trust me, this story is all about them! I'll have the next chapter up as soon as I can. Thanks so much and reviews are more than welcome! Please oh please give me your opinions! I want to improve for readers! Thanks much!