WHERE IS MY BROTHER YOU POTATO BASTARD?!" I hear an Italian shout.

I turn around to see a fuming Romano.

"This is all your fault!" he spits.

I hold my hands up defensively. I had gotten Italy to the hospital and called both my brother and his. Prussia arrived a few minutes after I had and we both were waiting for Italy to come back out when Romano stormed in.

The smaller Italian stretches himself up to his full height, only coming up to my nose. "If he had just stayed at home with me, none of this would've happened." He shrieks.

I am about to say something in reply when the doctor taps my shoulder.

"Mr. Vargas will be fine. He has a broken arm and he might be a bit sore. I advise he get some rest and he'll be better in no time." The doctor informs us.

"Thank you, Doctor." I reply as Italy hobbles in.

"Ciao, fratello!" He smiles.

Romano huffs in greeting.

"So, Italy, how do you feel?" I ask.

"Good. My arm is as heavy as a rock," He says lifting up his cast. "But good."

"I parked the car out back. Come on, we should go." Romano says to his brother.

"Okay." Italy says. "Come on." He calls to Prussia and I.

I stare at Italy confused. "What?"

He shrugs. "Your house is in pieces, so I thought you could live with us until you get a new one."

Romano stares at his brother as if he had grown a second head. "Over my dead body."

"It's okay, Italy, Prussia and I can probably go stay with one of our leaders."

"I AM NOT STAYING AT ADOLF HITLER'S HOUSE!" Prussia says.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because," Prussia states. "He snores louder than you and won't let me take Gilbird in the house." He says stroking his beloved pet.

I roll my eyes. If you wanted my brother to like you, first you had to like Gilbird.

"Romano, where else are they supposed to go? They let me stay at their house for a while, it's only right to return the favor." Italy tries to convince his brother.

"I don't want their disgusting German-ness getting over our freshly cleaned house." He huffs.

"But you don't ever clean the house."

"I'LL HAVE TO IF THERE ARE GERMANS LIVING THERE!"

Italy looks at his brother then leans over to whisper something in his ear. Romano pales.

"Fine." He grumbles. "But you guys sleeping in the garage."

"Thank god we don't have to bunk with bird hater." Prussia says, relieved.

"What did you say to him?" I ask Italy as we walk out to our cars.

He gives me an innocent smile. "Nothing."

I eye him suspiciously. This was going to be an interesting experience.