Germany opened his eyes with a start. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, and his mind flew to his Italy in a heartbeat. He made to sit up, but a weight on his chest stopped him before he had even really started moving. Germany looked down to see Italy lying curled close to his side, the Italian's head resting on Germany's chest. He was positioned so that Germany could just see the face, the closed honey eyes, pale lips pulled up in a small smile as the Italian lay there looking quite content, looking so peaceful that for a moment Germany was frightened, until he realized that he could hear the redhead's breath rasping in the air. Somehow, Germany could tell just by the redhead's breathing that Italy was awake, just laying with his eyes closed and that small, peaceful smile on his face, that expression that still frightened Germany, for this was the face that you would expect to see on a corpse, not someone who was still very much alive, though he knew that Italy grew weaker and sicker by the day.

"Italy." Germany said, his voice a quiet rumble, and Italy's honey eyes flickered open, gazing up at Germany through long eyelashes. "Italy, what are you doing?" Germany asked, still keeping his voice low.

"I'm listening to Germany's heartbeat." Italy said in a quiet voice, his face never losing that serene little smile that sent chills down Germany's spine. "I like Germany's heartbeat. It's better than mine." With his last sentence, the smile finally fell from Italy's face as the redhead yawned.

"What do you mean?" Germany asked, confused. "Don't all heartbeats sound the same?"

Italy shook his head, shifting slightly so he was lying on his back, moving as though his body weighed a ton and he had no strength. One hand came to rest, feather light, on Germany's cheek, guiding him down to rest his head on Italy's chest. For a moment, Germany thought about resisting, for the redhead looked so delicate and fragile that he was sure that even doing this could break him. Then rationality kicked in, and Germany rested his head gently on the redhead's chest, obeying Italy's whispered order to close his eyes. It took a moment for Germany to adjust to the point where he could actually hear the redhead's heartbeat. The sound was not what he expected. Instead of the steady thumping of a normal heart, the redhead's heartbeat seemed to beat without any order, sometimes beating too fast, sometimes beating so faintly that it sent a shard of fear into Germany's stomach, and every now and again it skipped a beat or two in a frightening rhythm that lacked all the order and normalcy of a normal heart that Germany was sure was needed in a heart for it not to give out from exhaustion.

Germany pulled his head away quickly, his own healthy heart pounding in his chest, his eyes flying up to meet Italy's. The redhead's gaze was somber and sad, lips curved down in an expression that did not fit the redhead's normally happy-go-lucky expressions and smiles.

"Ve~ Are you okay, Germany?" Italy asked, a note of concern lacing through his soft voice.

"You're going to ask if I'm okay." Germany asked incredulously, and his voice trembled just a bit.

"Sì…" Italy said softly as Germany forced himself to settle back down next to his lover, and Italy rolled over to him, nestling his head back on Germany's chest, eyes flickering closed again. "Luddy? Why am I so tired?" Italy asked quietly, and then coughed quietly, his small body shaking from the pain that Germany knew was coursing through his body.

"You had a seizure yesterday, Liebe…" Germany said softly, wrapping his arms around Italy's small, pain-wracked frame. "That's not an easy thing for your body to get over. Just get some more rest. You'll start to feel better soon."

Italy let out a quiet sigh, snuggling closer to Germany, shivering even in his long sleeved pajamas, and biting his lip softly. Germany held Italy close to his warm body, watching the redhead's face relax, lower lip coming free of his teeth, as the Italian boy drifted off to sleep once again.

They stayed like this, Italy sleeping, Germany watching him with an almost tender expression on his face, for almost ten minutes, when the sound of the doorbell set the dogs barking. Germany pulled away from Italy, letting out a sigh of relief as the redhead stayed asleep, then made his way downstairs, sending the dogs a glare that shut them right up, and then the three dogs merely skipped around excitedly, tails wagging furiously as Germany answered the door.

"Oh, hello Hungary." Germany said in surprise as he opened the door to reveal the brunette woman standing on the porch with a warm smile on her face.

"Ludwig." Hungary said, reaching up and wrapping Germany in a warm hug. He tensed for a moment, then caved, sighing as he brought his hands up awkwardly hug the woman for a moment before pulling back, clearing his throat.

"What brings you here, Hungary?" he asked, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. He didn't do well with social things like this. Hungary was just too motherly.

The brunette nation smiled and lifted a small wicker basket that sat by her feet. "I made vegetable soup yesterday, and I figured I'd bring you two some. I doubt that Ita is up for cooking anything…" the Hungarian woman's voice trailed off and her eyes shone brightly with tears.

"Oh… um… D-Danke." Germany said, accepting the basket with a slight blush of embarrassment at his own awkwardness. Luckily, when he accepted the food, Hungary gave a rather watery smile. "Um… Would you like to come in?" he offered, opening the door a little wider.

"Thank you, Ludwig." Hungary said, following him inside and taking a seat on the couch as Germany settled in the armchair. "I can only stay for a moment, Roderich is waiting for me."

"Ah." Germany said, standing briefly to take the basket into the kitchen, then returned to the living room to sit in the armchair again. He had forgotten that Hungary preferred to call everyone by their other names, their human names.

"How is Feliciano doing, Ludwig?" Hungary asked, her brow crinkling in concern. "Yesterday, at the meeting…" she broke off, looking away.

Germany himself swallowed hard at the mention of the previous day's meeting. "He's been asleep, mostly." Germany said, intertwining his fingers. "And he's still sort of feverish, but his head seems clear and he says he isn't in pain except for when he coughs."

"Alright." Hungary said, nodding slightly and standing. "Thank you, Ludwig. I have to go before Roderich gets impatient, so I'll see you soon. Oh, and there is also some fresh bread in the basket."

"Danke, Elizaveta." Germany said, and Hungary gave him a smile as she slipped out of the door, closing it softly behind her.

Germany went into the kitchen and went to the basket, his stomach growling at the smells of food wafting from the basket. He pulled out the loaf of still warm bread, setting it aside and pulling out the container of soup, which was also hot, as though Hungary had actually only made it just before she came over. Which, knowing Hungary, she probably did. Below that was a small stack of papers, which Germany pulled out and viewed with confusion. Then his confusion faded to be replaced by a small smile. It was a copy of the notes from the second half of the meeting.

In the end, Germany took the notes from the meeting, a bowl of soup, and a slice of bread up to his room, setting them on his nightstand as he slid under the covers next to Italy, leaning his back against the headboard as he settled. Normally he would never eat in bed, but he didn't want to leave Italy alone for a moment longer then he absolutely had to. So he juggled the bread and soup, which tasted amazing, trying not to spill anything.

"Luddy?" Italy's tired voice reached him as the redhead propped himself up on his elbow, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the other hand. "What are you eating? It smells good."

"It's Hungary's vegetable soup." Germany explained, setting down his spoon and lowering the bowl so Italy could see. "Do you want a bite?" he asked.

To Germany's surprise, Italy nodded, sitting up shakily and sinking back into the pillows to maintain a vaguely upright position, his face pale. Germany considered handing Italy the bowl and spoon but thought better of it, seeing how shaky the redhead was. Instead, Germany filled the spoon with soup and guided it carefully into Italy's mouth.

"Yum~" Italy said with a smile, eyes closing briefly. "Ve~ Miss Hungary makes the best soups ever!" the redhead's smile was bright and happy, contrasting so sharply with his tired, beaten body that Germany sucked in a sharp breath. "Can I have another bite?"

"Of course." Germany said automatically, and Italy opened his mouth like a baby bird, and Germany couldn't help but to give a small smile at the expression.

This continued for awhile, Germany feeding Italy bites of soup and only taking the occasional bite for himself, knowing it was much more important to get some kind of food into Italy as long as the redhead was willing to eat. As the redhead's body took in the nutrients it needed so desperately, the color began to return to Italy's face, and his movements became more sure and steady.

"How do you feel, Italien?" Germany asked, setting the empty bowl aside. In the end, Italy had eaten a little more than half of the soup before proclaiming that he was full.

"Ve~ I don't feel too bad anymore, Doitsu." Italy said, leaning forward and smiling brightly. The redhead stretched cautiously and ran a hand through his red locks.

"Listen, Italy…" Germany said, his voice dropping slightly. "About yesterday… Did you feel ill before your seizure?"

Italy's eyes widened slightly, a panicked look in his eyes. "No!" he said loudly, startling Germany with the vehement response. "No, Luddy, I swear that that I felt fine before! Well, other then my head hurt and my fever, but you already knew that, so please please don't yell at me!"

"Italy!" Germany said, his voice rising so that Italy closed his mouth so quickly that his jaw snapped shut with an audible click. Germany softened his voice as he continued. "It's okay, I believe you. I saw you before; it came on so quickly that you barely had time to…" Germany broke off, looking away, seeing in his mind's eye the way Italy's eyes had filled with fear, unexplainable terror at simply not knowing what was wrong, not sure how to ask for help, but knowing if anyone could help him, it was Germany. And Germany had failed him, once again.

A gentle touch brought Germany back to the present. Italy was looking up at him, concern lighting his honey eyes. "Luddy, please don't think about it. I don't think that anyone could have stopped that from happening."

"Alright." Germany said, sighing softly, running a hand over his blond hair. Both he and Italy jumped as the redhead's cell phone began to ring very loudly.

"Ciao?" Italy pressed the phone to his ear, and Germany picked up the bowl and took it downstairs, moving quickly so that Italy could talk on the phone in peace.

He set the spoon in the sink and turned on the faucet, mind wandering as he rinsed out the bowl. Germany rolled his eyes as Aster gave one surprisingly loud bark; the excitable dog was always doing crazy things like that. He turned off the water and headed upstairs again after retrieving a glass of water for his redhead lover.

"So Italien, I was thinking tha—" Germany's voice died in his throat as he reentered the bedroom. Italy wasn't in bed, and it looked as though the covers had been thrown back in a hurry. And with Italy's condition, that was never a good thing. Germany sat the cup down and reached the bathroom door in a few wide strides.

"Italy, are you—" The bathroom was empty.

"Italy?!"

Within two minutes, Germany had been through every room in the house, his panic increasing with each room that came up empty, until he stopped point blank in the living room, blue eyes wide as he stared out the window. Italy's car was gone.

Germany snatched up his pone and dialed the Italian's number, waiting with bated breath as he paced the living room, one hand holding the phone to his ear and the other with fingers firmly threaded into his hair.

"C-Ciao?" Italy already knew it was him. The stutter in his voice told him that.

"Veneciano Italy! Where the hell are you?!" Germany's voice snapped out and he could almost see the Italian cringe in fear and let out a rush of Italian.

"Germania prega di non essere arrabbiato con me! Mi dispiace, mi dispiace tanto, ma Romano è in difficoltà e ha bisogno di me! Io ti amo e ti prometto che sarò al sicuro, ma per favore non urlare contro di me! Per favore, per favore! E 'nei guai!" Italy's whimpering voice came through the line.

"Italy, shut up a moment." Germany sighed, rubbing his forehead as his tired brain worked on translating the babble of terrified Italian.

"Germany please don't be angry with me! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry but Romano is in trouble and he needs me! I love you and I promise that I'll be safe, but please don't yell at me! Please, please! He's in trouble!" Is what he finally got.

"Listen, Italien, why didn't you just ask?" Germany snapped. "I would have helped you. I would have driven you wherever you needed to go! You know that you shouldn't be driving in your condition. Why won't you trust me?"

Silence from Italy's end. "Mi fido—"

"English, Italy!" Germany sighed. "Or German."

"I trust you, Germany..." Italy said, sounding so pathetic that Germany almost felt bad for him.

"How can I believe you?" Germany asked, hating the insecurity he could hear in his own voice. "Italy, you lie to me about your condition and you refuse to come to me for help whenever you actually need it. How the hell do you expect me to believe you when you say that you trust me?"

The line was silent again. Right when Germany decided that Italy must have hung up the phone, the redhead's voice floated over the line again, sounding hurt and small.

"I'm sorry Germany…" Italy said quietly. "But Romano… Something really bad happened between him and Spain, and he really needs my help… From what he told me, he may need to go to the doctor."

Germany's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Romano and Spain?!" he asked. Spain was the most easygoing nation in the world, and to think that he did something to Romano that the older Italian brother needed medical help was astounding.

"Sì." Italy murmured, and then coughs reached Germany's ears. "Luddy, I have to go."

"Italy." Germany said, fear clenching around his heart like a vice. "If you feel sick, pull over right away and don't take any more unnecessary risks. Please just take care of yourself, okay? I trust you for this."

"Thank you, Germany." Italy said. "I love you."

"I love you too." Germany murmured, only to be answered with empty air.

Italy had already hung up.

.~*~.

Germany sat on the edge of the armchair, eyes trained almost unblinkingly on the driveway. Italy had been gone for almost a full twenty four hours, his cell phone turned off and leaving Germany with no way to know if his little lover was alright and his nerves wound so tight that he was amazed that he was not actually bouncing off the walls. Then, in the early hours after a long, sleepless night, Germany had received a call from Spain. The usually cheerful nation had sounded stressed out of his mind, but had alleviated some of Germany's own concern. According to Spain, Romano and Italy had spent the night in a nearby hotel after taking Romano to the doctor to find out that the elder Italian had been diagnosed with a concussion. Romano had finally answered the phone when Spain had called, and told him where to come get them at. Spain said that he was driving Italy home and would make sure that the redhead's car was returned. That was over an hour ago, and Spain should be pulling in at any moment.

Headlights cut through the morning gloom, and Germany shot to his feet, crossing to the front door in a second and standing by the front door as Spain got out of the driver's seat and helping Italy out of the backseat, the Spaniard keeping a firm grip on Italy's thin arm as he led the redhead up to the porch. Germany could only slightly see Romano sitting in the passenger seat, looking determinedly away.

"Italy!" Germany said, pulling the redhead away from Spain. He caught a glimpse of Italy's expression (the poor redhead looked as though he expected to be yelled at) before he crushed the redhead to his chest in an enormous hug, sighing in relief. "You have no idea how worried I've been…" he sighed, and then looked at Spain. "Gracias, Spain."

"De nada, Germany." Spain smiled, sounding relatively cheerful smile despite the hell he and Germany had both been through the night before. "I'll see you around." The Spaniard dropped a kiss onto the top of Italy's head and left, Romano still glaring out the window.

"Germany, I'm so sorry…" Italy whimpered pitifully against Germany's chest, letting the blonde guide him back inside.

"Hush now, Italien… It's fine, I understand." Germany said, sitting back in the armchair and pulling Italy into his lap. He pressed the redhead close to his chest, feeling the tiny arms wrapped around him in response. Their chests were pressed together, and Germany winced slightly at the Italian's uneven heartbeat.

"I still like to listen to your heartbeat…" Italy murmured, coughing painfully.

"You know why?" Germany said softly, still feeling weak with the relief of having his beloved Italian back in his grasp. "Because my heart belongs to you."

Italy smiled. "My heart belongs to you too, if you'll take it. I know it isn't in good condition anymore. Please, don't break it…"

Germany nestled his head into Italy's red hair. "I won't."