A/N: I am so sorry for taking forever to get this chapter (and the following chapters) done. I've had a lot of life stuff going on and I had to prioritize a little. But now, I'm thinking of dedicating a bit more time to writing fics, as I now have a perfect idea of the direction this story will take. I hope I haven't lost too many readers over this excessive absence. I just didn't want to put out a shitty chapter just for the sake of putting out a chapter. There's nothing I can do to justify poor writing when I'm capable of better. Also, apparently I started a Harry Potter fic. Did you know that? I sure didn't. I'll work on that after this fic is over. Shouldn't be long (Hopefully). I want this fic to be nice and long, so maybe I'll work on the HP fic after More Than Just Hunger Pains, my other fic that I haven't touched recently. And I would once again like to thank my lovely beta, StarFormerAdira, for putting up with my horrible procrastination. Slight trigger warnings for this chapter. Time for the chapter. You've all waited long enough.

Dinner was surprisingly uneventful. Italy and Romano stopped arguing in order to eat. Romano would occasionally glare at Germany over his drink as Italy started using Germany's salad fork on his pasta; he was eating two forkfuls at once. Once Spain and Germany had caught up to the Italians and finished their plates, they all ordered a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. Italy picked at his for a while before diving in. The cake was inarguably delicious; everything down to the milk in the batter was chocolate. Once the desserts were finished, they split the check and headed back up to the room to change and head down to the beach.

On the way back to the room, Italy lagged behind everyone and Germany noticed. Germany walked silently next to Italy so as to not push him. Until he felt a tug on his sleeve.

"Doitsu?"

"Ja?"

"Will I be able to swim?"

Germany hadn't considered Italy's cuts when he agreed to take him to the beach, and the sea of all places. The salt water wouldn't exactly be soothing.

"I'll leave that up to you, Feliciano. The salt water is going to hurt."

"It's okay."

"Okay." Hopefully Italy wasn't accepting the pain this easily as another way to harm. He seemed excited about going to the beach. Hopefully he just doesn't want to miss out on the swimming.

Germany and Italy were welcomed back to the room by Romano interrogating them on why they took so long. Italy told him it was because he didn't want to move so fast after eating so much. Romano accepted an excuse like that.

Germany and Italy walked into their room to get dressed and Spain and Romano into theirs. Italy fumbled as he attempted unwrapping the gauze from his arm and hand.

"Italy, let me help."

"No, it's okay, I can do it." This caught Germany a bit off guard. Usually Italy begged for him to help with everything, and now he was pushing him away. Did Italy think he would hurt him again?

Before they went out, Germany had Italy put some butterfly bandages on his hand to make sure the cuts stayed closed. Romano had to help with that.

Italy held hands with Germany as they walked to the beach. Germany's heart panged knowing the cuts he felt were his fault.

Italy pranced into the water up to his ankles and wiggled his toes around in the sand. He smiled. The sea was always relaxing. He spent a little time just looking at his surroundings. Germany, Spain, and Romano were watching him from a short distance away to give space, but still keep an eye on him. Italy spotted a rock and started swimming towards it. Romano knew that swim: Italy had a goal.

"Veneziano! Where are you going?"

"That rock~"

"Dammit…no! Get your ass over here or I'll drag you over here!"

"But fratello~" Italy started treading water to avoid moving farther away from Romano as they bickered. Germany walked over to Spain. Romano seemed pretty heated over a rock.

"Spain, why is Romano yelling over this?" Usually Germany could somewhat figure out the Italian's motives, but now, he was genuinely lost.

"Quite a while ago, when Feli first started harming, we were at a beach and all three of us were jumping off a rock into a really nice drop off. It was a fun day but then Feli jumped onto another rock, and was hurt quite badly. Roma thinks he did it on purpose and now he won't even let Feli jump off the side of a pool," Spain explained in a low voice. Romano had started to swim after Italy during Spain's explanation since Italy wasn't budging.

"How did I not know?" Germany murmured.

"It was long before you. I guess it never had a reason to come up. You and Italy don't go swimming too often, so there wasn't really a need to warn you."

"Doitsu! Fratello is being mean!" Italy shouted as Romano dragged him of the water.

"You idiot! I told you no! Anyways, look! You opened your cuts swimming as fast as you were!" Romano was tempted to backhand his brother, but knew better in this situation.

Spain walked over to where they set their towels to get the gauze Romano had stuffed in their beach bag. He finds most of Romano's habits cute, this isn't one of them. Spain brought the gauze over to Romano Italy so Romano could start wrapping Italy's arms.

"I'm going to get a drink," Germany said he turned away from the situation and back towards the hotel.

"I'll go with you and give these two some space," Spain volunteered. Germany was less likely to get an alcoholic drink with Spain there.

Germany hesitated for a moment, then replied, "Alright." Just a soda would have to do.

Spain and Germany headed back to the hotel.

"Let's head back to the room, Veneziano."

"Okay."

"I'll text Toni where we are."

The two picked up the towels and bag and started walking back to the room. When they returned, Romano had Italy shower to clean out his cuts and the blood.

Romano plopped on the couch once he heard the water turn on. Italy hasn't been fidgety the entire trip. That meant he had a blade with. Where the hell is it then? Romano snuck into Germany and Italy's room and found Italy's suitcase. He picked the lock easily and unzipped it. His idiot brother thought a lock would keep him out.

Romano dug through clothes and almost gave up until he saw a little tear in a seam. He carefully opened it a little more and grabbed what was inside. A razor blade and the survival knife from the potato bastard. There were good intentions behind the gift, but it had to be confiscated. Romano took the two objects and stuffed them in Spain's bag. Italy would never suspect the tomato bastard of taking them. Romano made sure to return Italy's bag to normal and lock it.

By the time the shower shut off, Romano was back on the couch, waiting for Italy to come out and let him bandage his arm. Romano was also fidgeting slightly out of impatience. The bastards had been gone a while. And hour and a half is quite a big drink.

"Veneziano! Hurry up!" Romano shouted.

"I'm trying!" Italy returned. He was fumbling with the tie on his pajama pants. It was even harder than usual since he only had one hand to do it with.

"Well hurry faster!"

"Fine!" Italy waddled out of the bathroom holding his pants up with one hand.

"What's your problem?"

"I can't tie them."

"And you can't buy pants that fit either?"

"They're Germany's."

"Stupid potato bastard," Romano sighed as he stood up and tied the draw string so Italy didn't have to hold his pants up.

Italy sat down on the couch and waited for Romano to get the gauze for his arm. When Romano returned, Italy was pulling at the bow Romano had tied to keep himself busy.

"I just tied that, dumbass."

"Mi dispiace."

"Just don't untie it." Romano knelt down and started wrapping Italy's arm. A few seconds later, the door flew open. Germany walked in followed by a bloody Spain.