Wow, that was a surprise (unless you were suspecting Germany to be Holy Rome all along). Now an even worse surprise awaits Ireland when he believes the worst will become of his relationship with Italy. Then, the last person Ireland ever thought would contact him asks to speak with him.

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I think there's one more chapter to go until the story's over! Don't worry, it won't end in sadness. I'm not that cruel.

Ireland hurried back to the bridge, not waiting to see if they would continue their conversation or walk back to where Ireland was supposed to be. All Ireland could think about was the possibility that Holy Rome/Germany has finally decided to claim Italy. How long has he known that he was the Holy Roman Empire? Why decide today of all days to confess this to Italy?

Ireland made it to the bridge, leaning against the wall and panting. His fears were catching up to him as his body began to shake uncontrolably. He didn't want to lose Italy when their relationship was going so well. He really enjoyed Italy's company and affectionate nature. He could never look at Italy the same again if this happened. There would be the knowledge that they use to date and a part of Ireland that will always love Italy. This can't happen!

Feliciano, Ireland began imagining the scenario of Italy telling him that he wants to be with Holy Rome instead of him. Just let me down easy if you want this. Don't be blunt about it and don't you dare smile so sweetly when telling me. Just tell it to me straight with a sad little grin and let me go home.

"Seamus~!" Ireland heard his name being called from a short distance. He turned around to find Italy running towards him. He had a huge smile on his face and he looked absolutely joyous. Germany/Holy Roman Empire was walking steadily behind him near the corner they were at.

Wait, you're actually happy? He expected Italy to be pleased that his childhood friend returned and maybe a little guilty about deciding to be with him. Italy sounded like he was the happiest nation in the world. This really worried Ireland.

"Wow, that was pretty fast," Ireland said, regaining his composure but still slightly shaking, "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fantastic!" Italy exclaimed, waving his arms in the air for emphasise.

'Fantastic...?' Oh no... Ireland's fears were confirmed. Italy does want to be with Holy Rome. Even worse, Italy looks so happy to tell him this.

"Oh, so there's nothing wrong?"

"Nope!" Italy's smile didn't falter a bit as he answered Ireland's question.

"Ah, well, that's good." I don't want to hear any of this. Ireland felt his heart sink at how overjoyed Italy seemed. He looked behind Italy to see Germany getting closer.

If you're not going to let me down easily, I'll just leave. You obviously seem happier being around him.

Ireland felt his phone vibrate and pulled it out. He didn't recognize the number but answered it.

"Hello?"

"Ireland..." The red-head widened his eyes in shock at the voice coming from the phone.

"Northern Ireland?"

"Yeah, it's me..." Ireland was still a bit shocked to hear his voice. After years of dispute between their countries following Ireland's independence, the two avoided each other. They didn't speak, it was an occasion when they encountered each other (except at meetings), and it was very rare to see them speaking to each other without being mad or bringing up the past. To have his north western neighbor call him was the first. He wasn't even sure how he got his number.

"Is everything okay?" Ireland asked cautiously. When it came to the two interacting, Northern Ireland would easily snap and yell at his brother for no reason. Around others, he would remain calm and try to refrain from causing any arguements or fights.

"Yeah, everything's fine..." There was a long pause after this. Ireland wasn't sure if his twin just didn't have anything to say or was calling for no exact reason. He was about to ask why he called when he heard the man clear his throat. "I wanted to know if you... wanted to... come over... or something like that..."

Now Ireland was really shocked. His brother never invited him over. Ever. Sure, he was asked to attend different celebrations and holidays like Christmas and Halloween, but those were always held at England's house. The Irishmen have never even been inside either of their houses.

"Northern Ireland? Are you okay?"

"Look, I know this sounds weird but can you just come over, please?" he said a little too quickly for Ireland to understand.

"O-Okay... I'm on my way..." Ireland hung up and saw Italy staring at him in concern.

"Is everything okay, Seamus?"

"Ummm, no. Not really." Ireland brainstormed for something to tell Italy that would convince him to let him leave. "Ugh, Northern Ireland is having some troubles at his house and he wants me to help out."

"I thought you and Northern Ireland weren't talking."

"Yes, well, he only contacts me for really important stuff."

"Oh... Do you have to go now?"

"Yes! I have to leave right now!"

"But, Seamus! What about the gondola ride?" Ireland's heart sank even more. How could Italy say such a senseless thing? Is he intending to do more than break his heart?

"I'm very sorry, Feliciano! Maybe the next time I visit?"

"Do you think you can come back later so we can do it?" Ireland put on one of the fakest smiles he could muster and cheerfully said, "I'll see what I can do. If I can't then I promise that my next visit will include a gondola ride."

"Ve... Okay."

With that, Ireland ran through Venice and crossed the border to France's land. He tried to keep the tears from falling but a few persisted down his cheek. He didn't want to believe that any of this was happening but Italy's happy looking face haunted his thoughts.

It wasn't long before Ireland showed up at his younger twin's front door, knocking on it harshly.

"I know you're here so stop pounding on the door!" Northern Ireland exclaimed as he swung the door open. Though they were twins, they hardly resembled each other. Northern Ireland's hair was a mixture between orange and red instead of being completely orange like his brother's, or completely red like Scotland's. His eyes were a pale green while Ireland's were much darker. Northern Ireland also lacked freckles and glasses and his eyebrows aren't as bad as Ireland's. Their clothing also differed, the Northern part preferring softer earth-toned colors over his older brother's liking to darker shades. Ireland also dressed very casually while Northern Ireland wore more dressy clothes like their older brothers.

"I'm sorry," Ireland said, his voice a little hushed, "I just have a lot on my mind right now." He wiped away at his face roughly before looking Northern Ireland in the eye.

"Why... Why are you crying...?" the younger asked, a little unsure about the situation.

"I'm not crying," Ireland lied, "A bug flew into my eye."

"Both of them?"

"Maybe..." Northern Ireland stared at him for a moment before pulling him into the house.

"Sit here," the darker red-head ordered, "I'll get you a drink."

"You don't have to do that," Ireland replied, sitting on the couch.

"If you don't drink something you'll be crying for hours." It's said that alcohol can be similar to an antidepressant. Even though both Irelands couldn't become drunk easily, alcoholic beverages relaxed them.

After a few minutes, Northern Ireland came back into the living with two glasses of whisky. He gave one to Ireland who gladly accepted it. They both sat there in silence, drinking their liquor in big sips. Eventually, Northern Ireland couldn't take it anymore and placed his glass on the coffee table.

"So, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"Bullshit. Did that Bad Friends Group, or whatever they call themselves, pick on you for wearing a kilt again?"

"No. Just forget it."

"Are your crops horrible?"

"My crops are fine now drop it."

"Did Belarus try to kill you because you asked Russia to go to the pub with you?"

"No. I've learned to ask him to go drinking when Belarus is somewhere else. I told you it was nothing so don't worry about it."

"Fine," Northern Ireland shrugged, taking another long sip of his whisky, "I won't question it anymore. Just remember that piece of advice you gave me when we were young."

"What advice?"

"Remember? It was when Big Brother Scotland ruined that crown we made out of clovers for Eldest Brother Wales. It was spring and we wanted to do something nice for our brothers, but Scotland had to be an ass and destroy our crown."

"Oh, I do recall this now."

"Yeah. You got mad at him and he made me cry. Then you turned to me and said..." Ireland chuckled a little at the memory.

"I said, 'It's okay to cry, North. It's good to let it all out every now and then.'"

"And that's what I'm trying to tell you. Whatever upset you today, just let it out, do your normal business, drink a lot of alcohol, and go to sleep."

"I don't know if this is something I can sleep off."

"Things always work out fine in the end." Ireland stared at his brother questioningly, sipping at his drink again.

"By the way, why did you tell me to come over?" Northern Ireland, who was in the middle of finishing his whisky, did a spit take at the question. He coughed slightly as he looked over at his brother.

"Wh-What?"

"You called me and told me to come over here. So, why did you do that? Also, how did you get my cell phone number?"

Northern Ireland fidgetted with his empty glass for a moment before stuttering out, "I-I, well, m-my boss to b-be more exact, wanted to s-s-see if we could, ummmmm, how do I put this...?" Ireland stared at him, waiting for his twin to finish answering. Northern Ireland wasn't very good with talking to people. He's very shy and only speaks when he needs to or when spoken to. "M-M-My boss thought it would be a good idea if... if... we started... speaking... again."

"You mean, he wants us to go back to the way things were before 'that stuff' happened?"

"Ummmm, yeah. Pretty much."

"Is that something you'd be willing to do?"

"I don't know," Northern Ireland admitted. Ireland could only guess what was going through his younger brother's head at the moment. Before he split away from the United Kingdom, Northern Ireland loved and depended on him. All that changed the night Ireland declared his independence. He drifted away from his older twin and began to resent him. Ireland would understand if his second youngest brother didn't want this.

Ireland stood up and put his glass down. He turned toward the door but stopped to look back at Northern Ireland.

"You know? I don't care what your decision is. Honestly, I'd be okay if we returned to those days. But, this is something you'll have decide on your own. Just make sure that you don't live to regret your decision." Ireland walked toward the door and was about to turn the knob when he heard his brother say, "Scotland." Ireland turned to look at him, a little confused.

"What?"

"Big Brother gave me your number so that I could call you. Although, I'm not very good at phone conversation."

"Oh, okay then. Have a nice afternoon."

"Try to do the same." Ireland walked out the door and exited the house. He felt a little better talking to his twin brother. Still, he couldn't stop from drinking four bottles of whisky that night as he cried himself to sleep.