Haha... hi, yeah i know long time no see, but Broken Berlin is OFFICIALLY BACK! [... yay...]
so yeah, hope this is okay. no clue when chapter 12 will be up, but will be before 2014
Enjoy guys, review please?

*England's POV*
"Russia" America growls at the child-like country through his teeth, "Get the hell out of here, this has nothing to do with your commie ass" I try to slowly shuffle away from the frustrated American, only to be grabbed, rather hard mind you, by the arm and pulled back to him. Letting out an exasperated sigh I start struggling again.
A childish smile spreads over the Russian nation's face, "I am the Soviet Union, Da?" Then, stepping towards us, he pulls America's arms from around me, as easy as opening cupboard doors, and gently takes me out of the Yank's reach, standing me behind him. I stare shocked at the tall beige haired man.
"Why don't you go back to the meeting, milaya Anglii, while America and I... have a little talk, da?" He looks at me, his eyes unusually soft similar to how he used to look before he became the Soviet Union – maybe there still a small part of the more or less sane Russian we all knew -, and then stares intently at America, who looks ready to beat the pulp out of my "savior". I give Russia a brief nod of thanks, then walk – okay... ran - away as quick as possible. As I reach the double doors leading to the meeting room, I faintly hear shouting from where I had come from. Shaking my head to clear it, I take a deep breath and walk back into the meeting, as if it had never happened.
*Ludwig's POV*
I keep anxiously looking at the door; it takes all my will to stop myself from chasing after the two blondes.
"Germany...? Germany? Germany?!" I jump out of my glaring at the door to look at Italy, gripping my shoulder tightly shaking it lightly
"Oh! Erm, sorry Italy... what did you say?" my eyes slowly get dragged back to the door
"I wanna know how you are Germany..."
"Oh... Ja, I'm fine Italy. Don't worry about me" I reassured the dopey Italian, who smiled back at me absentminded.
Just as I was about to ask Italy how he and his brother were being treated, China told us to take our seats. We do so, Italy happily skipping along, holding my arm in his familiar vice-like grip. Normally I would try to pull my arm away or scold him; neither would usually work, however today I decided to let his clingy and childish nature slide... only this once. I mean, who knows when we'd be allowed to see each other again, might as well savour every moment we can. As we approach the chairs, a sullen faced Romano stalks up to us, head low and shoulders hunched forward in defence. "Masters France and Spain say you have to join them now... or we'll be in t-trouble again" Italy's grasp becomes even tighter, making me wince as pain shoots up to my injured shoulder and to my banging head. Hugging me quickly, he whispered quietly into my ear, so quietly I only just heard him say the words "Arrivederci, Santo Roma... Doitsu" and they were gone in a flash, bowing to France quickly before sitting down between his brother, who now I realise is looking terrible, eyes sunken and skin pale and waxy, his curl hanging limply and lifeless almost blending into his usually shiny hair. My slight frown only deepens when I see a flustered and messier-than-usual haired England sneak through the door then, closing his eyes to compose himself he walks to the seat next to me, situated between Canada and myself.
"Aiya... where have America and Russia gone?" China asks as he sweeps his soy brown eyes to check if everyone was here. As if on que the two countries in question walk in and storm away to opposite ends of the table, Russia with his terrified and shaking Baltics Trio, and America with France, China and an ill looking Japan.
"... let's get started then, aru. Mr. Switzerland, care to start?" I pull out a notebook and fountain pen and ready to take notes.

Translations:

Russian:
milaya Anglii – sweet England

Italian:
Arrivederci, Santo Roma... – Goodbye, Holy Rome

Japanese:
Doitsu - Germany