"Guns ready!" Germany barked to his soldiers. Guns raised unitedly towards the line of targets on the other side of the field, barely visible through the sheets of rain and dense mist that surrounded them on all sides. It was like the enemy front, the crawling, whirling tendrils of white that crawled towards them no matter what they did to try and stop it. Gunshots rang throughout the valley and the birds retreated to the air, specks of black disappearing into the wet grey sky. A roar of thunder pierced the air, ringing in the ears of soldiers but they refused to let it faze them. The air was charged with electricity from the bolts of light that split the sky and Germany barked at them all to head back to the base. They had done their amount of training for the day and there was no need to stay out in these conditions longer than necessary. His soldiers headed for the barracks so that they could bathe before dinner, conversation slowly starting to bubble between them as the obedient silence that was instilled upon them in trading faded.

Germany was still curious as to why America asked him to fill in for training his troops today. It had been two weeks since he had arrived with his squadron and suddenly he was asking favors? Germany huffed and started to head towards the heavy duty truck he had taken to the base, ready to return to Berlin which was an hour and a half drive from here. The engine sputtered to life and the tires churned in the mud as he drove towards the main road. He was actually sort of glad America had asked him to train his troops for the day. He had nothing more to do than do more paperwork as the real effects of the war weren't setting in quite yet, and that would have left him to training Italy. The tiny Italian surely would have never survived running laps in this weather. In fact, he probably would have jumped on Germany's back the moment a roll of thunder split their ears and echoed through the sky and Germany would have pried him off of him, forced him to head inside and ate pasta for what was probably the twelfth time this week. Did that Italian never get tired of it? Germany asked himself as he drove along the empty road. His headlights barely gave him visibility past the first few metres and if anything it only made the fog glare a blinding white at him. He huffed in agitation and sat up straighter, guiding the car carefully through the swirling whites and grey's.

An hour and a half later he entered Berlin with a sigh of relief. The drive had given him more than enough time to think about the impending battles and strategies. More time than he wanted really. He needed to pull out of the reserves soon. He wasn't going to let the added soldiers of other nations deter him from fighting his own battles. His pride wouldn't allow it.

The blonds thoughts were interrupted by the sharp ringing of his phone, taking him off guard. He jumped slightly before he glanced at it quickly in case it was important. He almost always followed the rules, but there was a time for breaking them and a time where his brother was calling him was one of them.

"Ja? Was ist es Bruder? (Yes? What is it brother?)" He asked turning the phone on speaker. There was an outraged growl and Germany blinked in surprise. That certainly wasn't like Prussia.

"What is it? What is it?! I'll tell you what it is! Fucking stuffy has joined that bastard Russia that's what!" Prussia yelled into the phone.

"Was?!" Germany asked in surprise. He still managed to focus on the road but he still couldn't quite believe his ears.

"You heard me! Fucking Austria is a traitor! He announced that he was joining him like fave minutes ago!" Prussia growled. Germany felt shock ripple through his veins at the announcement and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. His knuckles whitened, hidden by his thick black gloves, yet he could still feel it.

"We'll talk when I get back. I'm fifteen minutes away and until then, get Austria out of there." Germany ordered sternly.

"That's not a problem West." Prussia responded flatly. Germany could practically see his brother's crimson eyes boring into him as he spoke. "The coward already left."

"Gott…" Germany trailed off. He should have been prepared for this! He knew wars didn't happen like that, one person against an entire continent. He knew that even if they were Russia, they couldn't win like that. Nobody could blow through four nations that easily without help. Help… Germany was struck by a realization and almost lost control of the car. Help. From the inside.

"Preußen. I need you to call an emergency meeting of the Bundesrat! Now!" Germany barked through the phone.

"Alright bruder. But you'd better give me an explanation when you get back." Prussia sighed. The phone clicked off and Germany scowled out the window. He should have known. How could anybody think that everybody was going to go against one person? It made no sense! It was like when Italy joined the Allies… Germany winced at the memory, even though it was he who had told him it would be the best for him. He had comforted the Italian as he wailed about how sorry he was after he announced it to Germany after lunch one day. Italy had eventually calmed down and the next week he was gone. Away with the Allies.

Soon enough Germany arrived at the hotel the meetings were being held in. The Bundesrat meeting would take place in a few days if he knew his government well. Until then, he needed to prepare a speech.

And he needed to find the mole.


"Go away stupid tomato bastard! I've got work to do!" Romano yelled as he thrashed in the Spaniards arms. Spain just smiled, green eyes alight and squeezed him tighter around the waist, burying his face into the smaller mans neck.

"Awww, Roma you're so cute~" He sang softly. "You don't have to work. You can do it later right?" Spain asked cheerfully. Romano huffed and tried to punch the Spaniard but failed.

"No I fucking can't bastard! Don't you have anything else to do other than fucking hang around me damn it? Go play with those fucking friends of yours!" Romano yelled still struggling to wriggle out of Spain's grasp. Spain laughed and shook his head, brown curls tickling Romano's cheek.

"But Roma Prussia is meeting with Germany," Romano shuddered at the name and mumbled something under his breath about a stupid potato bastard. "And France is surely trying to fell up England." Spain finished. "So that leaves me with you Roma~" Romano's scowl deepened at the thought of him being Spain's last choice. But then again, he was always everybody's last choice... What difference did it make if he was Spain's?

"Go work or something bastard! Even I'm working and you know how much I fucking hate this shit damn it!" Romano yelled finally managing to break free of Spain's grip. Spain stared after Romano in dismay as the grouchy Italian marched away from him and into his hotel room, slamming the door behind him with finality. The lock clicked into place and Spain heard the sound of furniture being moved on the other side, probably to block the door and to make sure he stayed out. Spain's face dropped into a frown that felt completely unnatural on his features and turned to his room, which was right across the hall. Quickly slipping in his card key and turning the handle he walked into his room. The door locked automatically behind him as all the room doors did and he crashed onto his bed with a heavy sigh.

"Roma why won't you be with me? You're so cute~" Spain asked the empty air. The air offered no response and Spain sighed, sitting up and heading to the bathroom to splash some water on his face to clear his mind. The gurgle of water from the faucet pushed away his thoughts and the sharp sensation of cold water against his skin was enough to shock him out of whatever stupor had been caused by Romano's harsh way of saying he didn't want to see him at the moment. Spain grabbed a towel to dry his face and decided that a shower would do him good. He snorted at his masochism. All the shower would do was provide him more time to think about Romano, more to think about this war that he couldn't stop. He couldn't keep the Italian safe like he had all those years ago. He was grown now and chances were his country would fall to Russia in a matter of months. If only he had more to offer him. If only he could protect him. He had seen many wars in his centuries of existence. He'd seen everybody fight, he'd seen all their strengths and weaknesses and in the case of the Italian brothers they had few strengths and many weaknesses.

These thoughts swirled in the Spaniards head as he turned on the water and waited for it to warm up. He stood beside the shower, watching the steam rise and the mirror fog, blurring his reflection before the sight of himself disappeared completely behind the condensed water. Running a hand through messy brown curls he jumped into the shower and let the hot water pound into his skin and wet his hair, plastering it to the back of his neck and letting it hang into his eyes.

He had always hated war. More than anything. He hated fighting his friends, his former allies. He hated seeing once powerful empires crumble at the hands of others. He hated seeing his friends, his family get hurt, usually reduced to nothing more than a quivering, weak mess for up to years after their defeat and invasion. And after the story about the disappearance of Poland and the Baltic's he was even more terrified for the survival of the two Italian brothers. He was going to spend as much time with Romano as he could before he was attacked, no matter what he did and if he could help it, he would offer as many of his forces as he could to slow the advances of the oncoming troops.

He swore the steam was muddling his mind. He couldn't think as clearly as he wanted to and his body felt all to heavy. The shower had done the exact opposite of what he wanted it to do. He shut the water off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and getting dressed before climbing into bed, despite it being only seventeen hundred hours (That's 5 P.M. to Americans). It was always a good time for a siesta anyways and he hadn't taken any since he couldn't quite remember when. He yawned in exhaustion before nestling further into his bed in an attempt to get comfortable. He needed to get away from all these thoughts of war, of death and of the inevitable fear and terror that would strike people all over the world. He hoped that when he woke up Romano would be willing to hang around with him after he finished working. Until then, all he could do was dream about it and wish that the world wasn't so cruel. Before finally fading into sleep Spain gripped the cross that hung around his neck and pressed it against his lips.

Please keep Roma safe. Please.


AN: So we've got a bit of one sided Spamano fluff that toes the line between brotherly and romantic, Austria is a traitor and the world is about to spiral into chaos now that countries are joining up with Russia. The potential moles in each government now have to be weeded out and now we're on the train to oh-shit-its-about-to-get-real town. Hehehe~ And I am absolutely, entirely shocked to discover that WE HAVE REACHED FORTY REVIEWS! I LOVE YOU ALL SO RIDICULOUSLY MUCH IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY! I would glomp you all right now if I could, but instead I'll send you internet muffins with your OTP on top. ^-^ So, I'm at a point where I'm going to do both a series of one shots/drabbles that I'll take requests for (Pairings that I'm comfortable with writing, brotherly fluff, FACE/any other type of family etc.) AND a chapter that's triple the length f a regular chapter (SIX THOUSAND WORDS). But until then, the first one to reach five votes is the one I'll do first. Next Saturday seems like a long time when writing and then I end up writing the chapter the day of or the day before. XD Oh well. Anyways, see ya next Saturday! Thanks to all reviewers, favoriters and followers! PLEASE REVIEW! THEY MAKE MY DAY!