Sorry this one was so late, guys! I've been busy with school and work, but I'm still writing! Don't worry! ^^

-Purple

"So," said Belgium as she walked with Romano through her sunny gardens, the birds chirping happily in the bushes and trees, "What do you plan on doing now, then?" she looked up at him from where she had been staring quietly at the ground.

"I don't really know," said Romano, staring forward as he walked, "I guess I'll stay around here for a while. I don't want to see my brother for a long time… And he tried to kill me as well…"

"I still don't understand," Belgium said, "Why did he kill Spain? Why would he even want to kill you?"

"No one understands," Romano replied, "But there is something wrong with him. There has to be. There is no other reason he would want to kill someone… There's no other reason why he'd be ableto kill someone! That jackass…"

"I wonder if he is alright," Belgium said.

"Why would you worry about him?" Romano seemed slightly insulted.

Belgium looked at him sternly. "The poor boy must be scared to death of what's happening."

"How could you take his side?!" Romano barked, "He killed Spain, and who knows what else he could have done by now? Why would he feel any remorse? Why would hebe any more innocent than Hitler having a threesome with Al Capone and Bin Laden?"

Belgium stared at him. "Thank you for giving me that wonderful image."

"That jerk killed Spain and I will never forgive him," said Romano. He swallowed hard and looked at the ground before him, no longer walking. "I've decided to separate from him again… Willingly, this time."

"Oh, Romano," Belgium said pitifully, "I understand your motives, but is there really any need for civil war?"

"It's not a civil war," Romano said, "I'm separating without another word. There will be no fighting and no war between us. I'm just… Giving up on him."

"I see," said Belgium.

"What," Romano said, "Does that bother you or something? Do you have a problem with that? Huh?"

"Don't get so grumpy," Belgium snapped, "I have no opinion on it. These are your own country affairs and I have no business with them."

"…Sorry," Romano sighed. "I… I guess I'm just used to people hating on everything I do, telling me to stop or calm down…" He put his hand to his head and sat down on a garden benchnearby. "I must be losing it…"

"You're not losing it," Belgium said, sitting next to him, "You're just stressed. Countries' lives are stressful enough as it is, and you've got even more going on at the moment. I mean… Your own brother…" She sighed. "That must be very hard to deal with."

"I've seen thousands… Millions of deaths," Romano said, "We all have… The countless deaths of our citizens and soldiers… But none of them compare to the death of a country… Especially Spain…"

Belgium patted his shoulder. "It's okay," she said, "You have a lot to digest right now… But… Things will get better. They have to."

Romano looked at her with a slight, weak smile on his lips and glazed, tired eyes. "Belgium," he said quietly, "…Thank you for being here for me. I don't get to see you much anymore… but whenever I do, I forget how understanding you are. I always expect to be snapped at or scolded for my behavior… But… I know it's my fault. I just… Ugh, I get so angry at people sometimes… And at myself…"

"It's just the way you are," Belgium said, "Italians, especially in Rome, are famous for being loud and rude."

"That's not helping," Romano growled.

"…Right," said Belgium. She scratched her head. "Sorry."

Romano sighed. After a few minutes, he yawned.

"You must be exhausted," said Belgium.

"It's been two days since Spain was killed," he said, "I haven't slept since then."

Belgium seemed surprised. "Why not?"

Romano looked at her with a pained expression. "I had been mourning Spain."

"I see," Belgium said, "But he's at rest now… He's at peace, right?"

Romano was silent.

"…Yes?"

He looked at Belgium, his face paling slightly. "His body… It…" He swallowed. "Before I could bury him, it… It was gone."

Belgium was shocked. "Gone?! What do you mean?"

"I turned my back for a few minutes just to get supplies… And he was gone. I don't know what could have happened…"

"Are you sure he was dead?" Belgium asked.

"He was definitely dead, Belgium!" Romano spat, "His heart was ripped out of his freaking throat!"

"Okay," Belgium said, eyebrows lowered, "You don't have to yell."

Romano held his head. "I don't know where his body could have gone. I don't know what happened." Tears began to drip from his eyes. "I didn't even get to bury him… Who knows where his body is now? Oh, God… I'm such a failure… I always have been… No wonder Veneziano has always been favored by everyone over me…" He wrinkled his nose, frustrated.

"Don't say that," Belgium said, rubbing his shoulder reassuringly, "It wasn't your fault at all, whatever happened to him. I mean, it's not like you could have known he would just vanish like that…"

Romano sniffed. "I guess…"

Belgium sighed sympathetically. "Why don't you rest for a few minutes? You must be very tired…"

"No," said Romano, eyes drooping, "I shouldn't…"

"Come on," Belgium said, "You need it. At least rest for a little while… Please."

Romano rubbed his eyes, which were slightly sunken and decked with dark circles from his lack of sleep. "Fine," he said, "But… I'm not going to fall asleep. I just need to relax for a moment…"

He reclined against the bench and stared blankly, his eyes slowly blinking. Their lids were heavy as lead, Romano felt… He hadn't been this tired for a long time.

"Thank you," Belgium said, grinning slightly. "Rest… You need it…"

"Nooo Spain, you stupid bastard! Don't just leave me here!" Young Romano clung to Spain's leg, barely tall enough to reach his thigh.

Spain trudged toward the front of his house, trying to shake the small child off him. "I'm not just leaving you! You have Belgium here to take care of you!"

"Only an idiot like you would leave a girl in charge of me! I don't want to stay with a stupid girl for God knows how long you'll be gone!"

"It should only be a little while," said Spain. "Prussia and France need my help to attack Austria. He's not going to put up much of a fight, so it really shouldn't be long!"

"Don't just leave me! Please!" Romano wailed, "You can't do this, I'm just a little kid!"

"You can go without me for a little while," Spain snapped finally shaking Romano off his leg, "Ay… Whenever I'm here, you say you hate me and tell me to leave you alone, but the second I leave, you won't let me. You're such a confusing child…" he turned to leave.

"No!" Romano squealed, "Don't leave me, Spain, you

bastard!"

"Belgium will take care of you," Spain said, marching off without looking back.

Tears filled Romano's big, hazel eyes. "No… You're so stupid…" He sniffed.

"It'll be okay, little Italia," Belgium said, picking little Romano up in her arms, "I'm going to take good care of you."

Romano couldn't help but blush whenever he saw her face. "Don't call me by my first name," he said grumpily, "Call me Romano… And…" He wanted to order her to put him down, but he swallowed the words before they could come out.

"And what?" Belgium asked, beaming happily as she held him.

"And get me out of the shade, signorina. I'm freaking freezing…"

Belgium giggled. "Alright, whatever you say."

As she carried him gently, Romano, face bright red, couldn't help but be confused. He'd never had difficulty yelling at someone like that before. Was there something wrong with him? In fact, he was not freezing at all. He was actually quite warm. Was he getting sick or something? He didn't trust Belgium… But unlike everyone else, deep inside, he almost wanted to.

"Is this better?" Belgium asked when she brought Romano out into the sun of Spain's vast backyard.

Romano was now even hotter than before, and had this been Spain, he would have given him hell. However, the words and even the thought of telling Belgium off were lost, and he nodded. "Si, it's much better."

Belgium smiled brightly. "Well, then," she said, "Would you like to play a game with me?"

Romano blushed a bit. He was confused; had this been Spain, he would have told him to get lost. However, he felt he actually

wantedto play this time. "What kind of game?" he said stiffly.

"It's called Crossage," Belgium said, "It's a traditional game I enjoy quite a lot." She beamed and turned, picking up an elongated sack and untying the string that tied it shut. She took out two long, wooden clubs with metal heads and a small wooden ball about the size of a grapefruit. "These are crosses," she said, holding up the clubs, "And this is a soulette." She held up the ball, and then put it on the ground in front of Romano. "You take the crosse and try to hit the soulette toward a target." She looked out over the few acres of Spain's backyard, and pointed toward a large boulder. "That rock can be the target." She handed Romano one of the heavy crosses, and he looked at it curiously. Belgium smiled down at him encouragingly.

Romano looked at the little wooden soulette, and with a small grunt, swung his crosse at it, knocking it forward. It stopped only a few feet in front of him.

"

Crap!" Romano barked, "That was stupid! Is this game rigged or something?!"

Belgium giggled and ran ahead, hitting the soulette out of the way with her own crosse.

"Hey!" Romano yelled, "That's my ball!"

"The opponent can interfere with the player's soulette in Crossage!" Belgium hollered joyfully.

Romano steamed, but gasped as he noticed something—he was smiling. He shook off the darned smile and ran after Belgium. "You get back here! You're going to pay for that!" While sprinting off, he had accidentally let out a small giggle.

Romano, fully grown, now began to awaken. He found that he was resting on something soft and warm, and realized that he had fallen asleep, his head resting on Belgium's lap. He inhaled her sweet scent that had become so nostalgically familiar to him, realizing peacefully as he felt her belly expand and collapse against him with her breathing; she too had fallen asleep. Romano was calmed by her maternal aura, and half-consciously enjoyed lying there, resting on her strong yet delicate legs, hearing through the silence the quiet churning of the beautiful nation's stomach above him.

But then he realized that there was something wrong with that silence. No matter how peaceful it was, he felt there was something different.

Wait a second, he thought, the birds aren't chirping.

He distinctively remembered hearing birds chirping joyfully in the trees of Belgium's garden, and now he did not hear any at all. Everything was silent. There were no singing birds, no buzzing insects, not even wind or rustling of the leaves. Everything was still and silent, and all he could hear was the sound of Belgium's breathing, the faint growls of her stomach, and his own heartbeat, which seemed to be sounding with more force than ever. Something wasn't right about this silence. He began to open his eyes.

Romano immediately jolted upward in terror and shock, taken aback when his eyes had fallen upon two legs clothed in blue. He didn't have time so much as to gasp before a familiar hand clasped around his throat and yanked him to his feet. As Romano was torn from the bench and pulled into the air, his eyes became level with the coppery eyes he knew so well.

"Veneziano," Romano barked through furiously gritted teeth.

Italy grinned, his fingers shaking as he gripped Romano's throat, "We've been reunited, brother."

The commotion had startled Belgium awake. She looked up at Italy, knowing at once what was happening. "Italy!" she cried, shocked, "Put him down! Now!"

"Belgium!" Romano hissed, struggling in Italy's grip, "Get out of here. Run, far away from here! Go!"

Belgium stood, but was unsure of what to do. She paced, conflicted, and stared in shock.

"But why would you leave?" Italy said, eyes wide, "Why would you both leave me like everyone does? I need attention, too! We all do, right, guys?"

Italy looked at Belgium with a frantically hopeful expression. "We all… Need to be loved…" He giggled nervously.

"You killed Spain!" Romano screamed, spitting a bit in Italy's face, "I am never, ever going to forgive you… You… Malato CAZZO!"

The swear echoed through the Belgian hills, and was joined with Italy's chilling shrieks as he screamed quaking laughs into Romano's face, his body quivering violently. Romano inched back slightly, eyes widening, yet he was still raging furiously. Belgium was terrified.

"Why are you wearing your uniform from World War !?" Romano asked caustiously as he noticed what Italy had been wearing.

"Don't you love it, Romano?" Italy giggled shakily, grinning very wide, "It's my old uniform! It makes me so proud… And it's blue! I absolutely adore blue… It's the color of this world…" He laughed again, and Romano noticed that he was flexing the fingers on his free hand in a peculiar way. "I've been keeping it with me," Italy continued, "As… As a reminder… A trophy…" He looked at Romano, and then frowned. "What, do you not like it?!" He tightened his grip on Romano's throat, digging his nails into his brother's soft skin.

Romano clawed at Italy's hand, sputtering as he tried to pry it off. "No!No, it's fine!" he choked.

Belgium flinched and put a hand over her mouth. She had begun to shake, unsure of what to do. She knew that if she tried to attack Italy, it might make things worse.

Italy laughed again. "Come with me, Romano," he said quietly, "Come on… Let's go play some games like we did way back before everything got so serious… Before Grandpa died…"

"I'd rather swallow a bomb," Romano spat. "You killed Spain…"

"You can forgive me though, right?!" Italy asked almost desperately, "Now you can be with me… We can play together… Be together… Brothers… My brother…" His grip got tighter and tighter.

"Ack!" Romano said, trying desperately to stop Italy's hand from crushing his trachea, "Stop it! Let go of me!"

"Italy, let go!" Belgium cried in fear.

"Please, Romano!" Italy pleaded, "Give me some respect, just once, as your brother! Stop pushing me around like some bambino!" He was screaming, eyes bulging, at this point, digging his nails deeper and deeper into Romano's throat. Romano stared up at him, now purely terrified. "DON'T DO THIS TO ME LIKE ALL THE OTHERS! RESPECT ME! PLEASE, RESPECT ME!"

He was suddenly thrown to the ground as Belgium shoved him with all her might. She grabbed hold of Romano, and as Italy was thrown down, his nails ripped through his brother's flesh. Romano yelped in pain and stumbled away to the side, blood dripping down the sides of his neck.

Belgium stumbled forward a bit, and then turned to him. "Go! Get out of here!" she screamed urgently.
Romano was frozen, but then grabbed her hand and attempted to pull her away with him. She turned back in one brief second toward Italy, and suddenly an earsplitting crackrang out as Italy, now on his feet, pulled the trigger of a black pistol, shooting Belgium straight through the temple. Her body went limp and fell into Romano's arms. Romano's voice was lost, and he looked wide-eyed at the dead body of the beautiful country that had been alive not a moment ago. "No-NO!" he hastily fell to his knees, cradling the delicate body in his arms. Tears didn't have time to come to his eyes.

Italy looked at the two in utter disgust. His nose wrinkled, all he could do was snarl demonically at them, turning at once and dashing away like a frightened doe in a squall of pleasure and fear, still holding the menacing black pistol he had stolen from Germany's home.

The same storm had begun to loom in above the once beautiful Belgian countryside, but Romano didn't notice, nor did he care. He just held Belgium in his arms, shaking uncontrollably, not wanting to accept the death of yet another so important to him. He hyperventilated, his stomach filling with agonizing nausea. Tears finally came to him, but the shock was too much for him to sob. Dark red blood gushed from the hole in Belgium's left temple, streaming down her cheek and settling on her soft lips before dripping onto Romano's lap. He remembered looking up at her bright, emerald green eyes so long ago, and now he looked down at those same emerald eyes, watching the light face rapidly from them. She hadn't seemed to age a bit from when the first met, when he as a child had jokingly asked her to kiss him in Spanish. He had never gotten that kiss, and though he had matured, he wished now that he had accepted it when she complied. A great pain filled his chest as grief filled his heart yet again, and as the reality finally hit him that yet another of his loved ones was dead, he clenched his eyes shut, wrinkled his nose, and threw back his head to the somber lament of the oncoming thunder and rain once again.

"NOOO!"