He had been basically been counting the days ever since he had returned Italy home to be able to see him again. From what the nation specialist doctors examined, despite having half healed on its own, from being practically partially mummified under the sand, it was going to take longer than usual to heal. Course; with Japan's accidental discovery of morphine's effect on nations, it wasn't going to be that hard to get his physical form back to stable health.

Though that wasn't the part the doctor's worried the most about healing right away.

It had been almost a month since Germany had found Italy's body, and he had been anxious the moment he had been put on home care. He knew Romano was back home but was that really wise? After all, Romano had proved time and time again he was heavily unstable. Besides, how was he not undergoing some sort of punishment after the murders of both him and his brother? He wasn't going to try to mess around with Italy's head while he was in this condition was he? He was determined to find out.

With a deep breath, Germany knocked on the door, clenching his clean ungloved fists lightly in a slight flutter of nervousness. He waited a minute or two before raising his hand to knock again, though faltering as the door opened, being greeted by a tired glare of the older Italian brother.

"What do you want?"

"I came to see how Italy's doing."

"He doesn't want to see you or anyone, go away."

The door swung quickly to close, but banged as Germany hit his hand on it, forcing the door open again. He had waited too long for this; he wasn't going to be driven away so easily.

"I was the one who found him and who kept company with him this whole time. I think I have more than a right to see myself if he's okay." Germany practically growled down to the Italian before setting his hand down. Romano narrowed his eyes up at him before he just quietly sighed and stepped aside, letting the other come in.

"He's in his room. Speak softly."

Germany very softly smiled in relief before stepping in, though noticing ,when he tried to make sure not to step on Romano's feet, that there was a steel clasp around his ankle. So that's what his punishment was. Not much of one but he wasn't one to judge. He shook his head lightly to try to get that of his mind as he went down the hall for the first time in what seemed to be like an eternity and paused outside of the Italian's door. He swallowed a lump in his throat though, still trying to assure himself that it wouldn't just be an empty room when he opened it.

To his surprise, it was mostly dark in there; the curtains were actually replaced since he was last in there to block out all of the sun. He squinted his eyes a bit to try to see before reaching over to find the light switch.

"…Germany... please leave the lights off…"

Germany tensed up at hearing the clear as a bell, if not a little weak, voice of Italy coming from inside. So he was in there after all. He stepped inside and closed the door, leaving himself in the darkness of the room. He would have mistaken it as pitch black before his eyes adjusted enough to see small vases with candles in them, nothing them being high enough to hide the flames of the candles. In the candles soft lighting, he could finally see Italy laying in bed, a metal post with an IV bag connecting into his arm standing next to his bed, no doubt for keeping him still hydrated through that whole 'left in sand' debacle.

He was there. He was actually there in the flesh and blood.

The blonde glanced around to see a chair put next to the bed, figuring that's where Romano usually sat. Quietly he walked over and took a seat in it, his smile growing just a little more at being able to see Italy a lot better now, though it fell just a little at seeing the other's eyes closed and breathing slowly. Had he been sleeping?

He sat up straight however, seeing Italy open his golden eyes slowly and just seemed to stare at the ceiling for a moment or two before looking over to the German, giving a small smile of his own.

"Hi Germany."

Germany opened his mouth to say something but stopped, recalling Romano's warning about talking quietly to him. He took a moment to mentally adjust his volume before finally speaking.

"Good afternoon Italy." He was quiet for a moment before he paused, glancing back to the door before back to the nation. If he had his eyes closed, how'd he know he was trying to turn on the light? "How did you know I was coming in here?"

"I heard you come in," Italy stated quietly, his eyelids slowly wavering as if he was trying to fight off sleep again, "Romano had a habit to turn on the light when he came into the room so when I heard the door open, I thought I might as well say something."

Germany nodded a little that being understandable, he folded his hands together and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Are you not fond of the light?"

"Not right now." Italy said quietly, resting his head into his pillow more as he still tried to keep comfortable. "When there's bright light, knives, a lot of water, or fire, I… I don't know what happens. I freeze and get choked up. A doctor told me I might have posta tra… mama… something something order. Ah, the name is difficult to say. But basically because of what happened to my body last, it fears a lot of things right now, even if I'm okay with them."

He nodded once more, looking down to his hands in thought before back up.

"Post traumatic stress disorder, is that right?"

"Mm, that's it." The chestnut haired man laughed quietly in a small bit of joy that such a long name was finally recovered, though it slowly died down as he just transfixed his gaze up to the ceiling again. "…I scared Romano a lot when I got home before we figured out this arrangement. Sometimes I couldn't breathe, or just plain forgot how to, and I just thought I was back on the island and something was going to happen to me. I'd try to run away but my body was so weak I couldn't get far." He paused, giving a half hearted chuckle, "though, that's for the best, I guess. That thing on fratello's leg won't let him anywhere past the mailbox. It'd be a search for me all over again."

Germany very quietly laughed to join in the half hearted awkward laugh he gave before. Though it faded fast as the severity of the situation was very apparent. Italy was broken, left to rest in the dark for who knew how long as his mental state would hopefully piece itself back together. The both of them were silent for a good while, a slight awkward air becoming stagnant around them, making it just a little hard to breathe. However Germany sat up a bit more, hearing the other draw in a breath as if preparing to say something.

"… We are no longer in the same group."

"Huh?"

All of whatever happy emotion had been on Italy's face previously was on. A smile did remain, but it wasn't the least bit happy at all. "When I was gone and Romano left, our people... our people had their own kind of revolution. I only heard about it recently, but, we technically belong to the allied forces now."

Germany's breath stopped in his throat. It had been so long since he had thought about the war, not having even remembered their cause that got them shipwrecked and started their troubles in the first place. Granted he was still on leave; did they even want him back like this now that things have changed so dramatically? He swallowed a hard lump in his throat before giving a heavy sigh, slumping a little more down into himself. This meant they were enemies. No wonder Romano didn't want him in there.

"So, after today, we probably shouldn't see each other. Is that what you're trying to say?" Germany asked, looking to the bedridden Italian, frowning more as he saw him give a subtle nod. He combed a hand through his own hair, side glancing as he tried to think of what to even properly say to it. Though as he thought, something started to make sense to him. "Perhaps it's for the best. Let them do as they will, the remaining axis are in shambles anyway. We would not be proper to represent this war. Our bosses can do what they please, but I do not think we will win. It's best that you can rest easy in mind that you will technically be on the winning side."

Italy remained silent, deciding to just rest his eyes as the other talked. It was pretty obvious he wasn't too happy about the recent predicaments they were in. Germany rubbed his hands together in thought, just waiting for something, anything, to show that things were still going to be okay despite the changes. Didn't look like it was going to be that way so easily though.

"Who knows," Germany continued, wearily putting on a smile to perhaps persuade Italy to do the same, "if we kept out of the way and just did what we wanted and tried to work together, we could maybe even have world peace."

Suddenly, Italy's eyes snapped open at the last phrase, turning his head over to look at Germany in silence for a bit longer. Germany leaned back a bit as he was just being stared it, his eyebrows lowering slightly as he noticed something about the way he was looking at him seemed… off. Soon enough, Italy looked back up to the ceiling, for a moment clenching and unclenching his hands.

"We could get along... we could... be nice and have world peace. A world where everybody is kind to each other and helps one another when they need it..." Italy finally said, closing his eyes and resting his head back into his pillow. Germany eased back into his chair a little, feeling just a tad bit at ease at somewhat positive talk.

"Mhm, that would be-"

"At their consent.

Germany faltered at being interrupted, seeing Italy looking back up to him with that same odd look he was getting earlier, only this time seeing a bit of a fire burning in them. "Wha-"

"And not eat everybody!" Italy sharply inhaled as he tried to push himself up enough to properly get propped up on his elbows, looking down to himself while trying to concentrate on moving up, "I mean... I ... it could be nice! When everybody could be nice to each other and not eat each other! Everybody could have enough food…" He paused again, finally looking over to have eye contact with the Germany, "while you were still thinking I was technically dead."

The blonde could practically feel a ball of shame and guilt forming in the pit of his stomach, not having any doubt that color had drained out of his face at this sudden angry confrontation. Though when he thought about it, Italy never really had a chance to be angry at them about this. He was more than understanding why he would be, and while he knew he had forgiven him a long time ago, his body was hardwired to relive that moment constantly.

"Italy, I-"

"NO." Italy pushed himself up, punching his hands into the blankets next to him to force himself forward enough to full sit up, turning to Germany to motion himself further. "GERMANY, LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! THINGS HAPPEN ALL THE TIME BUT I..." He trailed off as his anger was slowly diminished, his chin trembling as he just flopped back down into the pillow below him, covering up his face with his hands as he tried to choke back obvious sobs. "Why... why can't we have a world like that…?"

"Because the world doesn't work like that!" Germany blurted out the harsh statement, blinking as he realized what actually left his lips. Instantly he was greeted by Italy's glistening angry eyes and a slightly louder voice,

"No, your world doesn't work like that! All you do is create war for your own benefit! And then you fall and you fall hard! Like when you had to make cuckoo clocks for France!"

"And who was the one who helped you through that, huh!?" Germany tensed up, the sensitive subject of the last war putting him instantly on the defensive.

"You paid me one million marks a day! That was nothing!"

"That was still helping out, I was poor as well!"

"People still went hungry!" Italy paused to take a few breaths, trying to breathe deep and calm himself down. Though instead it lead him back into quietly sobbing, subconsciously setting a hand on his stomach, "I wish I could feel hunger again. All I feel is an emptiness in me; I can't even call it hunger anymore because nothing satisfies me! Hunger is something that can be satisfied! I don't know what to call this!"

Germany dryly gulped once again in sadness of his poor best friend suffering in front of him. He had thought that once he had been rescued and taken care of for at least this long, things would have gone back almost to normal. But now it was obvious this was far from the case. With a shaky hand, he reached over to try to place a comforting hand on him. But with a quick swipe, Italy reached over and seized the others wrist, pulling him forward while simultaneously pushing himself up so then they were practically nose to nose with each other.

"LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME! GERMANY! LOOK AT ME! I can't live like this! I can no longer be in the rays of the sun in the fresh air outside, feel the warmth of the fireplace, be able to cook in the kitchen with my own brother, or even enjoy a pleasant bath without thinking that in any second I'm going to die! I'm trapped in darkness! Trapped!"

At such a harsh confrontation, Germany's jaw hung ajar, looking from side to side as if trying to locate an answer for him. He shook in Italy's grip, not being able to help to try to blink back the tears of regret that began to shine in his eyes. At last he finally shouted,

"I... I don't know what to tell you okay!? I... I made a mistake; it wasn't even fully my mistake either!"

"After all of that I..." Italy cut himself off, his head dropping and letting out a cry, covering his mouth with the hand that didn't hold Germany close. "Why…."

Germany bit his lip very lightly; unable to feel anything but helpless in the situation he had refound himself in after all this time. He had this coming, and he had to deal with it as best he could. Without too much more thought, he yanked back the hand that held him to pull Italy closer, simultaneously yanking his arm lose so he could wrap them both around Italy tightly, hugging him as best as he could. He breathed deep as he realized he silenced the Italian by doing this. He had to choose his words carefully.

"I'm trying the best I can, Italy, to try to make this right. What... what can I do?"

There was a pause, a tense silence between them as they stayed held in a one-sided embrace. However after a bit, Germany could feel a force against him, soon realizing Italy was trying to push him away. Getting the message, he backed off, frowning as he saw the first thing Italy do was just let his face drop into his hands, quietly crying once more. He leaned back further as Italy finally reached a hand up to point to the door.

"Just get out."

The German's eyes widened at the command, but he looked down, knowing if that's what Italy wanted, he had no choice but to follow it. Quietly, he got up from his chair and left the room, closing the door behind him. He paused though, leaning against the doorframe and just staring downwards, lifting his unstained hands to just think about the price was to get them back to their original condition.

Was this it? Was this really how it was going to end? After all that time and hardship he would still lose his best friend?

"Don't go yet."

Germany snapped up at hearing Romano in front of him, raising an eyebrow at the surprising request of his. The older Italian sighed quietly before gesturing for them to get out from the hallway. Hesitantly, the German followed his action, following the other into the kitchen and sat down with him at the table.

"When Veneziano gets emotional, he doesn't think clearly. We're quite similar in that aspect." Romano said quietly, putting his hands together as he looked to the blonde, "I know this will be the last you will see him for a while. Wait here until he's calm down, I know he would probably feel better too if his last memory of you was something remotely positive."

"Thank you." Germany decided on saying, offering a very small smile in gratitude before looking up to the clock hanging on the wall.

This was his last chance to set things right with Italy before they would be separated for who knew how long. He couldn't mess this up.