"In America?" Ludwig repeated incredulously, "vhat's he doing zhere?"

Italy wiped the blood from his lips, relieved as his brother's mind faded into unconsciousness. He immediately felt bad for thinking like that, but t wasn't as if he didn't have a good reason. It was easier on both Italies when he was unconscious, so they wouldn't hurt anymore. "He was going to take me for lunch after the world meeting and was kidnapped He's – he's unconscious now, thankfully, cause I hate it when he's in pain." Feliciano sighed.

Germany shifted, uncomfortable seeing anything other than a smile on his good friend's face. It didn't sit well, didn't suit him at all. He wanted nothing more than to make the small brunette smile again. Awkwardly, the blond male put his arm around Feliciano's shoulder, relaxing as the Italian predictably snuggled in. He had had no issue holding the male before, when it had been a matter of getting him onto the bed but, as a comforting device? Well, Germany wasn't exactly the most comforting nation in the world. "Hey, now, it vill be okay, ja? Ve'll find him, I svear it, Italy."

Feliciano smiled a watery smile and blinked tears out of his eyes, pressing his nose into the crook of Ludwig's neck illiciting an involuntary shiver from the German man. He had the resists the urge to take the Italian's hand and entwine their fingers together. His cheeks flushed – now was not the time for such thoughts. Never was there a time of such thoughts. "Ve..." Italy murmured, "Thank you, Germany."

"Anytime."

"I know it's not my-a fault..." Feliciano said quietly, "but I still feel as if... I mean, I felt that something was off yesterday but... I ignored it. I should have known better, but I didn't... I ignored it until he was in physical pain. It took torture for me to notice. Am I a horrible fratello?"

Germany looked at the top of Italy's head (as, in their current position, he was unable to see much more than that) in shock. "Vhere... vhere did zhat come from, Feliciano? Of course you are a guten bruder!Don't zhink like zhat, zhose kinds of zhoughts aren't going to get us anyvhere Don't zhink zhose zhoughts, please." He murmured, stroking the top of his head gently. His fingers brushed against the curl absently before he caught himself. He may not have known what, exactly, that curl did to the smaller brunette but instinctively, he knew it was neither the time nor the place to experiment with it. That could come at another time.

Feliciano, meanwhile had tensed up the moment his curl had been touched, swallowing hard as he pressed his flushed face farther int the German's neck. He was glad for the distraction, and couldn't help but hope he'd continue, distract him for a long while. Show him how he truly felt.

Italy immediately banished that thought. His brother was in danger and he was thinking about sex? How could he be so heartless?

"Oh!" Germany exclaimed, feeling something vibrate against his thigh. He gave Italy a quizzical look, who blushed in embarrassment.

"It's my-a phone." The brunette clarified, pulling it out of his pocket and answering it, "C-Ciao?'

"Hola Veneziano! Is Romano there with you? He's not answering his phone and I can't find him anywhere!" Spain's voice blared from the speakerphone, tone anxious and pitch rising.

Italy bit his lip, "ah, Antonio..."

"Well? Is he there? Oh, dios, I don't know what I'd do if–"

"Y-you see, Antonio," Feliciano interrupted awkwardly, twirling a lock of hair as anxiety and dread coiled in the pit of his stomach. Germany put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Italy smiled at him weakly in thanks, "Lovino, well... he's been-a... uh... kidnapped..."

There was a silence as Spain processed this information. A minute had passed before Feliciano could work up the nerve to speak again, "H-hello?"

On the other side of the line, Antonio growled in fury, his voice dropping an octave "I'm coming over."

Dial tone.

"Vell," Germany said in an attempt to fill the ensuing silence "zhat could have gone better."

Italy looked at the German in confusion. He must have felt very uncomfortable; he out of all the people Feliciano knew, he never felt the need to fill the silence. The moment Spain entered his homeland, the little brunette could feel it, and so he wasn't at all surprised when his doorbell rang a minute later. "Come in, Spain!" he called out, moving out of Germany's arms with a reluctant sigh. Germany frowned both from the lack of warmth and out of confusion.

"It has only been five minutes! He shouldn't be here yet."

"He did a trasferire." Feliciano shrugged as Spain stormed into the room.

"A vhat?"

Feliciano frowned "I... don't know what it's-a called in English. Because Spain was in the Roman Empire like-a I was when we were young, he still has ties to-a the former Empire. He can't feel the echoes of it or-a track someone through out it like Romano and I-a can, but he can trasferire himself, either instantly appearing at my-a borders and doing a trasferire run through the country or simply running through all-a the borders."

"Oh! So a verlegen!"

Spain, holding his battle axe over his shoulder, slightly breathless, blinked. "Are you talking about traspasar travel? It's called Transfer Travel or Transfering in English, by the way."

"Ciao signore Antonio."

"Guten tag herr Anton"

"Hola senor Feliciano, senor Ludwig." He said casually and, though there was a smile on his face, it wasn't a pleasant one. "Now, Feli, you said my little tomato was stolen?"

Italy nodded and sighed, walking out into the living room. "This... isn't something to talk about in a bedroom."

"Oh, yeah, what were you two doing in the bedroom together anyways? I know you share a bed but... not at siesta time" Germany blushed at the implication but Italy just waved it off.

"I'll explain that in a second." He said, grabbing himself some coffee. Both Spain and Germany blinked; since when does Veneziano drink coffee?

"Please excuse my lack of energy, signore Antonio," he said after a sip, trying to remove the taste of blood and bile from his lips, "you see, my fratello's captivity affects me, too, and it's taken a lot out of-a me... ve."

Spain noticed, for the first time, how unwell the younger Italy looked. He was pale, hair sticking to his face with sweat, and looked as if he'd fought an army. Or the British navy. He was shaking, leaning heavily on the counter, and every now and then he would take a very deep and wet sounding breathless

"Feli... are you okay?"

Another sip from his coffee and Feliciano cleared his throat, wincing in pain, "From what I can sense of him, my brother was kidnapped yesterday afternoon by three men, though I don't know who they are or what they look like. He was in New York and was going to-a surprise me after the meeting by taking me out to lunch. I think he was-a drugged overnight"

"Oh no... but... how could they have drugged him overnight? Unless there was a steady stream of high grade anesthesia and sedatives, it would just wear off, wouldn't it?

"I... don't know. All I know it, he woke up sometime during my siesta, and I didn't feel or notice any of it until he was shot. From there, he's been beat, kicked and knocked out again. I'm not sure it was even ten, fifteen minutes before he was awake again, and stabbed. Twice. Each time, the knife was twisted in to hurt more, until he passed out again."

Both Antonio and Ludwig paled. Antonio couldn't believe anyone would dare to hurt his little tomato like that; Ludwig couldn't believe the pasta-loving ditz he knew could handle that much pain, and handle it as well as he did.

Silently, both men agreed: those fuckers were dead.

"To make matters worse," Italy continued after a moment, "at some point, Romano decided to relinquish most of his nation status temporarily he kept just enough to keep him alive and able to re-heal himself, but he gave me the rest."

Now Spain was alarmed, "pourque?!"

"It was something we had agreed on years ago. If one of us were under attack and in-a torture, the other would receive all nation duties and status, giving the other the bare minimum. This way, the land wouldn't be affected by Romano's pain – physical pain can damage the land and people, but emotional and telepathic pain only mildly disturbs them – and that way I'd have all the strength and could take down the bastardos that dare touch my fratello... ve."

Spain blinked and Germany shrugged, "he's in a lot of pain, herr Spain, he's been svearing since he voke up."

"So, you're saing that my tomato is being tortured in America and you have the same strength as a full nation and we're just standing here?!"

"Ve have to tell America, Italy. He can help us und Romano is his friend."

Feliciano nodded and ran his fingers messily through his hair, taking a deep, shaky breath. Ludwig couldn't help but notice how weak he seemed and moved to his side. "Antonio, can you call America? Tell him to keep it-a quiet for now – no armies. It doesn't look good, but as of right-a now, we don't know if they know-a we're nations, and have to assume they-a don't."

Antonio nodded somberly, going off in search of a phone. The moment he did, Italy's legs gave out on him and Germany quickly lifted him up into his arms before he could hit the floor. "Vhoa zhere, Feli, you can't overexert yourself, dummkopf." He said softly, laying him down on the leather couch.

"B-but... Germany... I have to find fratello. I have to. He needs my help."

Ludwig sighed and smoothed back his hair, sitting on the arm of the couch. With the pads of his thumbs, he gently brushed away Feliciano's tears. "I know, und you vill find him, Feliciano, but you can't help him right now. You need to be feeling your best, need to be at your strongest. Und besides, you can't do anyzhing until ve speak to America."

"Ve... I guess you're right."

"Hey guys?" Antonio called out, walking into the room with the phone in his hand, "Okay, America, I'm putting you on speaker."

"Hey, Veneziano bud! I heard you weren't feeling the greatest. I'm sorry for your bro, I promise I'll help you find him. I know what it's like – Matty n' I maybe aren't as close as you n' Roma are, but I can still feel when he's hurt so I know the feels."

"Ve.. thank you, America."

"No problemo, you'd do the same for me, right? It's not gonna be easy – I have nations coming and going and there are a LOT of Italians in the US, especially in New York, but I'm trackin' him down. I'm gonna do everything in my power to help you. In the meantime, I'm coming over. I'm just gonna Transfer to England first, cause I have more ties to him as I'm his former colony so it's easier. From there it shouldn't take too long, an hour, hour n' a half, two hours at most, to do a Run to Italy, so you hold on little bud, the hero'll be there soon!"

"S-si."

"Oh! And Spain! Tell your fucking daughter to stop hopping the fucking border! I don't mind when she visits but it has to be fucking legal, dammit! I'm done with illegal aliens!"

From the other side of the line, it sounded like he was hit.

"S-sorry about that, eh. Al can be a bit of an ass. H-he'll be right over."

Spain chuckled, "alright, thank you senor Canada. Tell Mexico I say hi."

"Will do, eh! Au revoir, monsieur Espagne!"

"Matty, stop speaking frog and start speaking freedom!"

"Oh mon dieu, Alfred..."

"WHAT DOES THAT ME–" the phone clicked.

Germany was the first to break the silence, "vell, vezher ve like it or not, und I vote for not, America is now involved.

"I could go for a siesta..."

"Ve... me too..."

"Ja, I could nap, too" He said. Feliciano yelped as he was suddenly lifted into the arms of the blonde male.

"G-Germany! What are you-a doing?"

Spain giggled as he followed the couple to the bedroom.

"Vell," Ludwig reasoned, "I imagine ve von't be getting much sleep until Italy Romano is found, so ve might as vell nap vhile ve can, ja?"

"S-si..."

"I call the right side!" Spain announced, laying his battle axe on the floor and hopping into the bed. Germany deliberated for a moment, torn. Did he want Italy in the middle, where he couldn't fall off the bed should he lash out, or did he want him on the edge of his bed so Spain couldn't touch him?

Damn his protective instincts.

Eventually, he decided that his intimidating demeanor would (hopefully) be enough to hold Spain off for now and so he carefully placed him in the middle, taking his place on the left. It did not surprise the German when Italy immediately curled into his large chest, as he was used to such behaviour from the smaller (yet, older) male and it seemed he even enjoyed it. At least, that's what Antonio thought, as a peaceful (though understandably still troubled) smile settled over the blonde's face and his arms lazily rested on the Italian's hips. Internally, the Spaniard could feel two emotions: fangirl squee and longing, longing for his own tomato.

'Oh Lovino' he thought sadly as he closed his eyes, 'We're coming for you. Just hold on.'

Sorry this chapter took so long! I'm starting school again tomorrow, so updates may be less frequent! However, I started a fanfic chat group in the forums ( www . fanfiction myforums / ClairDeLaLuna / 2495605 / ) which will allow me to quickly reply to any comments/queries while also keeping you up to date on ALL my stories. This chapter is sort of a filler and mostly fluff, because the last chapter was kinda heavy. Also, yes, imagine that Spain ships GerIta because, why not. I figured I had to add Spain, since I mentioned Spamano, and since it's on america's turf, he's gotta get involved, too, but don't worry! Italy's still the star of the show!

Ciao per ora! Bis bald Adios por ahora! See ya later! (Enough... stop playing with google translate!)

Au revoir pour maintenant -shot-

Okay, I'm done! Ciao!