Dro: Hey, look, it's Germany and Italy! About time, eh? Anyway, please do read and review, and I will be quite thankful! And oh, if I get behind on updates next week, it's because I have exams Mon-Wed, so...yeah. Expect some delays.

Chapter Summary: Germany and Parallel! Italy discuss their plan of action. Italy broods. America finds himself torn. A certain someone comes back into play.

Warnings: Language

Disclaimer: I'm sure we all know by this point that Dro does not own APH.


He sat cross-legged in the chair next to the window. Feliciano's eyes never left him for more than a second. Occasionally, they would end up in staring contests, well, glaring contests. Ludwig had been shocked at Feliciano's hostility toward his other self. It was unnatural for his own Italy to act this way. He couldn't help but wonder why the man was reacting like this. Was it jealousy? It seemed like the most logical reason, but Ludwig didn't understand why Feliciano would think that he would cheat on him with the parallel Italy. He would admit—to himself and to no one else—that he did have feelings for the other Feliciano, but he would never leave his own Feliciano. He just wouldn't. It was unthinkable.

And yet, here they were, sitting in a shoddy hotel room filled with unnecessary tension. Feliciano was constantly glaring at his alter self, who was silently watching the street below through the dirty window. The silence was deafening. Reaching his breaking point, Ludwig rose to his feet and said he was going downstairs for some food. He left without another word. He hated the idea of leaving the two of them alone with such animosity between them, but he had to get away. He felt like the tension was slowly crushing him. He sighed as he reached the cramped lobby of the small hotel. He had a headache coming on.

It was only yesterday that the three of them had woken up together in a nearby park. Of course, they'd landed somewhere in Germany. Or, what used to be Germany. It was still called Germany, but there was still no Germany nation, apparently, according to Feliciano, who seemed to be able to hack into just about anything. He had jacked a computer from some innocent civilian and used it to check the status of all the nations. It seemed that this world's Prussia was currently looking after Germany.

As Ludwig strode out into the cool afternoon, he silently cursed all magic. This plan had quickly gone from stable to disastrous. He knew that the other Feliciano blamed his Feliciano, and he couldn't deny the truth of that statement, but he also couldn't bring himself to antagonize his own Feliciano. He'd asked Feliciano several times why he'd done it, only to receive a teary pout as a response. Ludwig's best guess was that Feliciano didn't want him to leave him for another extended period, so he'd decided the solution was to come along himself.

"Oh, Feliciano. Why do you do this to me?" He groaned softly.

"I'd like to think he's just that stupid."

Ludwig jumped, whipping around to face the other Feliciano, who had—somehow, completely silently—strode up behind him. Ludwig waited for him to catch up and continued walking. "And Feliciano is…"

"Staring out the window in awe, last time I saw him."

"Uh…"

"I jumped out the window."

"Oh." Of course he did. "…Why?"

"I wanted to speak with you in private. We haven't exactly had much time alone. It would be nice to have a conversation with you without those ignorant brown eyes boring holes into me."

Ludwig frowned. "He's not stupid."

"To me, he is an insult. Not even in my time before Ivan was I as weak and ignorant as him."

"Don't antagonize him. He's the kindest person I have ever met, and I would gladly have him stay the way he is forever."

Feliciano rolled his eyes. "I have no problem with his level of charity, Ludwig. My problem is that he will be useless here. He is a burden we do not need. We have already been separated from the others, automatically putting the entire operation at risk. And it is his fault. On top of that, we are liable to be attacked at any time. I do believe I am correct in surmising that he is useless in combat?"

"Uh…" Well, what was he supposed to say to that? His own Feliciano wasn't exactly skilled at fighting.

"As I thought. Then there is, of course, the problem of reuniting with the rest of our team. The most obvious plan would be to head to Paris, since that is a common point we all wish to get to. We should leave today." He flicked his knowing brown gaze at Ludwig. "Alone."

Ludwig stopped. "We're not leaving him here."

"You would put him at risk?"

Ludwig faltered. "I…"

"You know the closer we get to the Paris, the more danger we'll be in. Yao will no doubt quickly figure out that Alfred did not come alone. And it will put everyone who came with him danger, including your Feliciano. I am assuring you that we will end up in battle situations, and if your Italy is there, then he will be a liability, risking not only himself but others who seek to protect him. The most practical move would be to leave him somewhere safe, like here for instance."

Ludwig didn't want to admit that this Feliciano was right, but he was. He wouldn't willingly put Feliciano in danger, and he knew that if they took him along with them to Paris, that would be exactly what he was doing. So the only viable option was to leave him behind somewhere. He knew Feliciano would be angry with him, but what choice did he have? His Feliciano was not this Feliciano. His Feliciano did not have highly honed fighting skills. His Feliciano was not totally calm and composed in the face of death. His Feliciano would not survive a fierce battle. And therefore, his Feliciano would have to stay behind. Because Ludwig would never send his Feliciano knowingly to his death.

It was a conundrum. If he left his Feliciano here, Feliciano would be livid. But if he took Feliciano along, Feliciano would get hurt or worse. So Ludwig would have to go with the lesser of two evils. He would much rather have Feliciano angry at him—hell, hate him—than to willingly let Feliciano get hurt. He didn't care about how Feliciano felt about him afterward, as long as he was safe.

"Fine. We'll leave him here." He said coldly.

Feliciano nodded. "Now, how to get him to understand."

"He won't. He'll be…" Could he describe Feliciano as furious? Feliciano got upset, but Ludwig didn't think he had ever seen rage in Feliciano's expressions. Granted, he had also never seen loathing either, but that was what Feliciano seemed to exhibit whenever he was around his parallel self.

"Fine, then we'll just leave him."

"What?"

"Tonight. Let's just pack up and leave while he's asleep. We'll just leave a note."

"That won't be any better."

"Emotionally? No. But if we tell him and he rejects the idea, then he'll try to follow us."

"And if we just leave him, he'll try to find us. He'll end up getting in trouble."

"Not if we make a specific call."

"Huh? To who?"


They descended down the stairwell into a dimly lit corridor. They hadn't bothered cuffing him or tying him up. They knew he was too strong for that. And they he knew he wouldn't try anything because Matt was at risk. So he walked right alongside Yao, silent and brooding. What Yao was planning to do was heinous and disgusting. How could Yao possibly think this was a good idea? How could Yao honestly believe this would help anyone? Of course, it would help one person, and that was Yao himself. Yao would regain his favor, and as the world once again plunged into turmoil and devastation, Yao would benefit.

Yao was disgusting.

Alfred wasn't sure what was more disturbing, what Yao was going to use him for, or what was Yao was going to use Ivan for. Alfred would probably never like his own Ivan beyond the point of minimal toleration, but no one deserved what Yao was going to do to him. Alfred had almost bailed from the car when Yao had started describing that to him, but he'd forced himself to stay still, knowing that if he ditched Yao, then he would kill Matt, and he couldn't live with himself if he let that happen. But he also wasn't sure he could live with himself if let that happen to Ivan.

But he didn't see any way out. If he attempted to retaliate, Matt was dead. If he did nothing, then Ivan…He shook his head. Yao seemed to notice his distress.

"Come now, Alfred. Don't stress yourself out. You're saving your brother here, remember?"

"And sentencing Ivan to a fate worse than death."

Yao smiled slyly. "If you say so. But really, if that's what's bothering you, you should just clear your head. What will happen to him will not even hurt, as far as I know. You, on the other hand…"

Alfred really didn't give a shit what happened to himself. Yao had described to him in detail just how he was going sacrifice him. Every cut. Every stab. And Alfred couldn't care less. It was his loved ones he cared about. "Let's just get this over with." He spat.

Yao chuckled. "Don't be too eager now. Surely you want to see Canada first?'

Alfred froze mid-step. No, he most certainly didn't want to see Mattie. At all. Seeing Matt would…not be good. He knew his brother would try to talk him out of this. And he would ask questions. Questions about Ivan. Questions that Alfred couldn't possibly let himself answer with a clear conscious. By saving Matt, he wasn't just hurting himself. He was hurting Ivan too. And there was no justification for that. For some strange reason, he pictured this world's Feliciano berating him for being illogical, but he would have none of that. This wasn't about logic. This was about Mattie.

Except it wasn't. And he knew that. But he couldn't stop himself from favoring his brother over everything else. He knew if he went through this, he would be sentencing this world to the same pain it had just gotten over four years ago, the same agony, the same level of death and destruction. Men, women, children…they would all die in the thousands again and again. Just like they had four years ago. And it would be his fault. His fault and his fault alone. Because he wasn't willing to sacrifice his brother.

He wanted to scream. He felt like his chest was being torn apart. He just wanted to curl up in a corner and cry and scream and beg and sob. But instead, he continued walking alongside Yao until they came to a door. Yao had the guard open it, revealing a tired looking Matt sitting solemnly on a shoddy bed. His fatigued violets looked up as the door opened, and his entire demeanor seemed to reverse in a split second. He jumped from the bed and rushed forward, lunging at Alfred and embracing him tightly. Yao gently prodded Alfred forward until he was in the room.

"You have fifteen minutes." He ordered the guard to lock the door again.

Then it was just the two of them. He hugged Mattie back with everything he had, burying his face in his brother's shoulder. Matt was saying it over and over again. "Al. Al. Oh God, Al." Alfred rocked Mattie gently back and forth until his sobbing brother calmed down. Then they parted. Matt's eyes were slightly sunken in, dark rings hanging under them.

"Matt…"

"Al…are…are you okay? You shouldn't have come, Al! They're going to…" He trailed over, his throat seeming to constrict.

"I know what they're going to do to me, Mattie."

"But…but you can't give in, Al! Whatever it is Yao wants, you can't just give it to him!"

Alfred cringed. Matt didn't know what Yao was planning, which meant he didn't know what Yao was going to do to Ivan. Matt seemed to realize something was wrong.

"Al? Are you okay?"

Alfred shook his head. There were tears forming in the corner of his eyes. "I'm sorry, Mattie. For everything that's happened. For everything's that going to happen."

"You know?" Matt's voice was a whisper. "What is it? What's Yao going to do?"

He shook his head. "I can't, Matt. I just can't. What I'm doing…it's the most selfish thing in the world. But I can't choose anything else. I can't sacrifice you."

Matt looked at him indignantly. "But you can sacrifice yourself?"

I would sacrifice the world for you, Mattie. And I will too. Because I'm too weak to live without you. "A thousand times over."

Matt's façade shattered. "Al…no…I can't lose you!" He gripped the front of Alfred's shirt tightly. "I can't!"

Alfred shook his head. "You can do anything, Mattie. I know it."

"There has to be another solution, Al!"

"There's not." Alfred answered bluntly. It was Mattie or this world. And he was choosing the former. He wondered when it was that he'd ceased to be the hero he'd always claimed to. Heroes saved the world, not willingly let it be destroyed. But heroes also saved their loved ones. And Alfred was trapped in a position where he could do one or the other. Selfish. So selfish. He tried to remember just how many people had called him that in the past, but there were too many to name. And they were all right.

The door burst open, startling both brothers.

Yao stood on the other side, smiling. "It's time."


His whisper was harsh, and he fought back a cough in the middle of the incantation. But it worked. The door popped open on its creaky hinges, the dim hallway light flooding the room. But he stood in the corner, still obscured by the shadows. He cradled his broken arm carefully and watched the doorway like a hawk. A few seconds passed before the two curious guards poked their heads into the doorway, wondering just how the door had opened by itself.

He grinned and whispered more words.

A second later, they were both on the ground, lifeless and already cooling. He could have beaten them without killing them, but he had long since lost any sense of patience and sympathy for any of these bastards. He stepped outside the cell for the first time since Yao had dragged him to his room to discuss their other options. He had been sickened by the very idea that Yao had come up with, but his resistance had been met by more pain, unimaginable pain. And so he'd been forced to tell Yao that yes, his alternate plan would work.

He was disgusting. Disgusting for ever giving in to any of Yao's demands. But he would reconcile his weakness. He would kill every fucker in this goddamned building if he had to. As long as he stopped Yao. He knew the man hadn't gone through with his plan yet. Which meant there was still time, still time to prevent the worst disaster in history from taking hold on the world again.

He passed by the two fallen guards, kicking one in the face. He spat sticky red-tinged mucus at them and kept walking. "Bloody fools."


Dro: I'm sure most of you know what Yao is planning by this point, right?

Next Chapter: Yao proceeds with his plan. Alfred and Ivan argue to the end. Arthur interrupts. [Preemptive VIOLENCE warning for those of you who skip my chapter headers]