Germany and Italy sat on the front porch, the redhead in Germany's lap, both of them in silence. Even now, after an hour, Germany's head was still spinning with the news that his beloved was dying. Italy seemed subdued as well, sitting unusually still and docile on Germany's lap, head leaned on the German's broad chest. After a moment of simply listening to the silence, Italy spoke.

"Hey Germany?" the little redhead asked, twisting himself around so that he could look up into Germany's face.

"Yes?" Germany replied.

Italy's gaze moved up, over their heads to look at the stars twinkling high over the earth. "Grandpa Rome once told me that there was a star in the sky for every person in heaven. Do you think there will be stars for you and me one day?"

The blond thought this over for a moment. "If your grandfather says it, then I believe it." He finally replied. True, Rome was a crazy bastard, but there was actually some sense in what he said if one listened close enough.

Honey eyes returned to looking into Germany's blue ones, a small spark of sadness dulling their lovely color. "But do you think that you'll be up there one day?" Italy paused to take a breath and coughed quietly for a moment before continuing. "Or… me?"

"Yes." Germany said firmly, finally understanding what the Italian was asking as he himself turned his blue eyes to the sky. "Yes, I do."

A warm weight against him told the German that Italy had rested his head on Germany's chest once again. "Good." The redhead said. "I want us to be able to be together again one day."

"I hope so." Germany said, holding Italy tight for a moment, resting his chin on the Italian's soft red hair.

"Me too." Italy said, giving a soft laugh that ended with a bout of coughing. The redhead gazed sadly at the blood on his hand. "Me too."

"Are you scared, Italy?" Germany asked. His Italy was always the weak one, the useless scaredy cat who ran away at the slightest hint of danger. Yet this disease was something that Italy had coped with, struggled with, for over a decade all by himself. And then he, the cold faced, tough German soldier, broke down like a child, a kind, when Italy finally told him about it. It was quite the role reversal.

"To die?" Italy asked, seeking clarification of the question Germany had asked him.

"Ja."

"I… don't know." Italy said, looking small and unsure in the dark. "I've put so much time and energy trying to hide this; I never stopped to think about it."

"I'm afraid of you dying."

Germany inwardly cursed himself, wondering why the hell the filter between his brain and mouth wasn't working tonight. He kept blurting out things he didn't mean to say. Even if everything he had said was true.

Italy nuzzled his head against Germany's military uniform, letting out a tiny sigh. "When I found out, I broke down. I was so upset." The Italian murmured.

"I can see why." Germany said, able to imagine Italy all too clearly, pale and sobbing with tears mixing with blood on his fair skin.

"I realize that I was really sick after I threw up straight blood into the sink one night." A haunted look on Italy's face made Germany think he had underestimated the Italian's fear of what was happening.

"Do you know why this started?" Germany asked, trying to draw Italy's attention away from that one memory that seemed so much more threatening to the redhead.

"No. All I knew was that I couldn't wake you up because you were asleep!" Italy let out a little laugh that he was obviously trying to cheer himself up with.

"You should have woken me up regardless." Germany scolded the Italian, a bit of anger rising up in him. Not at Italy, never at Italy was his anger truly intended.

"You were tired!" Italy objected with a little pout pursing his lips slightly, honey eyes wide and earnest. "I couldn't wake you."

"I don't care." Germany said slowly to ensure that the redhead understood his point clearly. "Do not hide something like this from me again."\

The redhead dropped his gaze to his hands. "I don't think that there will be an again, Luddy." He whispered quietly, that depression returning to weigh down the nation's natural optimism.

"If there is." Germany said. He was not going to give up on his Italy. Never.

Italy sighed quietly, closing his eyes. "I'm tired, Luddy."

"You can go to bed if you'd like." Germany said. It was better for Italy to sleep, Germany decided. The redhead needed to preserve his strength any way possible. Then he looked down as Italy pressed close, arms wrapping around Germany's torso. "You're going to sleep here?" the German asked incredulously.

"I don't feel like moving…" Italy whispered, his voice already becoming faint as he relaxed.

"Are you sure?" Germany double-checked, and only got a sleepy sigh in response. He leaned down to kiss the sleepy nation, which Italy returned halfheartedly, eyes never opening.

"Ti amo… Luddy…" the Italian sighed as he dropped off to sleep.

"Ich liebe dich auch." Germany said.

For a few minutes, Germany simply sat under the light of the moon, holding the slumbering nation in his arms. Then he stood carefully, carrying the nation in the house, up the stairs, to the bed that he knew the Italian would end up in by morning anyway, laying him down and covering him with the blanket. Once he was finished, Germany changed into his pajamas and slid into the other side of the bed, closing his eyes with a sigh. He was exhausted, and fell asleep quickly.

.~*~.

"Germany?"

The blond nation let out a weary sigh, turning over and burying his face in the pillow. "Hm?" he grunted in a low and sleepy voice.

"I think its morning, Luddy." Italy's sweet voice said as a finger prodded his shoulder. With an unwilling sigh, Germany propped himself up on one elbow and opened his eyes. Bright mid morning light streamed in the window, lighting up the room and giving the redhead in front of him a coppery red halo.

"And so it is." Germany sat up completely, running a hand through his loose blond locks. Italy smiled at him, the bright smile ruined by a smear of rusty colored dried blood at the corner of his lip. Even so, Germany faked a smile for the redhead. "Good morning, sunshine." He said, able to hear the forced cheerfulness in his own voice.

Tilting his head to one side, Italy frowned slightly. "Your smile looks weird." He observed, and Germany cursed inwardly. Of all the days for the Italian to be observant…

"It does?" Germany played dumb, and Italy nodded, the solemn expression not fitting for him. "But this is how I always smile." Germany said.

Understanding suddenly dawned on Italy's face. "Do I have something on my face?" he asked, those honey eyes immediately darkening with sadness. He brought a small hand up and wiped at his mouth until the rusty smear was gone.

"How do you feel, Ita?" Germany asked, a note of concern lacing through his rough German accent.

"I feel ok." Italy said, with a shrug and his characteristic happy smile. He scooted over and sat on Germany's lap, looking up into Germany's face with an eager expression. "So what are we going to do today, Luddy?"

"We'll go train, and then I have to go to work." Germany said automatically, gently pushing the Italian off his lap so he could stand up. The smaller Italian scrambled back to his side of the bed as Germany stood.

As his body went through the automatic notions of getting dressed for the day, his mind began to wander. Italy still looked well enough, other then the fact that he seemed smaller, thinner then usual. Training wouldn't hurt him, right? It would be good for him as long as they took it real easy.

To Germany's surprise, Italy did not complain once during training. Actually, he had barely spoken at all, which was almost a miracle. When they finished their final lap, Germany's heart barely beat faster then normal, but Italy was panting a bit, which was much different then their normal training which could even leave Germany drenched in sweat. The blond sat heavily on a bench as Italy ran off, something about looking for a bathroom before they headed home, and rested his chin on his hand.

After about ten minutes, Germany stood, assuming that the Italian had gotten lost. He walked around briskly, looking for Italy but not seeing hide or hair of him. At last, Germany decided to check the bathrooms.

"Italy?" The German called softly as he approached the door. He got no verbal response, but there was definitely some sound coming from inside the public bathroom. Hesitantly, the blond cracked the door open.

A beam of light fell through the door, illuminating only a sliver of the surprisingly dark bathroom and falling on a shock of bright red hair, kneeling over a toilet, accompanied by retching. Opening the door wide enough to slip inside, Germany walked over and knelt beside Italy, not flinching at the smell of vomit, holding back the Italian's red hair, rubbing his back soothingly until Italy leaned against him, exhausted from his ordeal. The look in Italy's lovely honey eyes was heartbreaking to see, so Germany looked away, focusing his attention on wiping the dark blood from his lover's lips.

"Are you okay?" Germany asked, his voice a low rumble. "Was I too hard on you? I tried to go easy with the training, but evidently it was too much."

"I-I'm okay." Italy whispered, the blatant lie almost making Germany roll his eyes. "I-I don't know if I c-can train anymore…" the redhead added in an even fainter whisper.

Germany gathered Italy in his arms and stood, kicking the door open and carrying his lover into the sunshine. "Then you will not train anymore, Italien." The blond said as a very tired redhead rested his head against Germany's chest. "Go ahead and rest, Italy, I will get you home safe."

With a quiet sigh, Italy nuzzled his head gently into Germany's chest and his eyes closed, breathing deepening as Germany began the walk home.

Walking in silence so not to wake his sleeping lover, the blond tried to keep his footsteps even to prevent from jostling as his mind worked.

He can no longer hold up to training, Germany thought, a small frown creasing his forehead. He must have worked hard to hide his decline from me for so long. He must have been throwing up after training for awhile now. So obviously he can't train any longer. I wonder what else he has kept from me. He's definitely more fragile and weaker then he was before, and I'll bet his immune system is shot to hell and back. For Fritz's sake, he's been handling an illness and fighting a war at the same time! He's been alone like this for too long. I'll be there for him from now on. I'll help him. I'll protect him.

And by God, Germany thought, resolve hardening his eyes, I will find a way to save him.