~•~•~Chapter 1~•~•~

"Romano... Roma, please wake up!" A familiar voice called. I opened my eyes, groggily looking up at the face of my younger brother.

"What is it Veneziano?" I asked sleepily.

I froze as I began to sit up; why were my wrists bound with... Shackles?!

I opened my eyes fully to examine the room we were in. It was lit by two candle stubs, slowly burning down. Veneziano also held one, pinching the solid end, careful not to let the wax drip onto his fingers. The only other thing in the small concrete room was a heavy iron-barred door.

"W-where are we Veni?" I asked, my heart racing.

Veneziano closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "I-I was hoping you could tell me..."

I ran a hair through my filthy brown hair, feeling the weight of the chains on my arm. "I don't have any idea where we are..."

The sound of footsteps jolted my brother and I's gazes towards the iron door.

"Romano..." I could feel Veneziano's grip on my arm growing desperately tighter. "I-I'm scared..."

I hugged my brother close, protectively pulling his head onto my chest. "Don't worry fratello, I'll beat this bastard senseless before he can get anywhere near you." Despite my words, I trembled. How could I even hope to fight with shackles restraining my movement?

The footsteps stopped abruptly, and I had almost thought that whoever it was had left, until a series of clicks and whirrs sounded from the other side of the door.

It swung open, and a hulking figure strode into the room.

"You have come to play, da?"

(Veneziano's P.O.V.)

"R-Russia...?" I squeaked.

"You are the Italies, da? You will play with Ivan now." Russia came closer, picking up Romano like he was weightless and throwing him over his shoulder.

"Eeh! Put me down you bastard!" He yelled, kicking Russia in the back. Russia ignored him, not even seeming to acknowledge that Romano was kicking him as hard as possible. He only reached over, and broke both shackles around Romano's wrists apart, Romano yelping in pain as cold metal dug into his flesh.

"Roma!" I gasped, shrinking into the wall.

He opened one eye, both now glistening with tears, and gave me a fleeting smile. "Don't worry about me Veneziano, I'll be fine."

And with that, Russia carried him out of the room, leaving me all alone.

Fratello...!" I sobbed into my hands, completely overwhelmed with the whole situation.

I eventually wiped my tears away, and began to work out a plan in my head. There was no possibility of escaping through the cold concrete floor, and the walls were just as solid, so the only way out would be through the door.

I wondered where Russia had taken Romano... What was he going to do with my big brother...? Tears ran down my face in steady streams. I couldn't help myself... I had never been a fighter; always a pushover. Even when Romano and I were younger, he was always the stronger one, and the obvious favourite of Grandpa Rome. Grandpa would never accept the weakling... The runt. He did a good job of faking it though.

I sniffed, berating myself for thinking about such trivial things at a moment like this. I clenched my fists, digging my fingernails into my palms so hard that it began to draw blood. I needed to stay strong.

I sat waiting for what seemed like days, willing myself not to cry. I would wait for my brother and that... That bastard to come back...

The door creaked open, and I could make out Romano's slim frame through the darkness. Russia followed, holding him up by the armpits. It took me a second to realize that Romano was unconscious. I almost called out for him, but stopped myself. Maybe if Russia thought I wasn't easily broken...

He dragged my poor brother over and dropped him roughly beside me, then left without another word.

I shuffled as close to him as I could with the chains restraining me, and tried to move him into a more comfortable position. I dragged him onto my lap, being careful not to wake him. Romano's bangs obscured most of his face, but on his cheek, I could see crimson splatters. From where they originated I was not sure.

Tugging his shirt up so that I could examine him a bit closer, I gasped as I saw the extent of the injuries on his tanned back. There seemed to be burns crisscrossing over his spine, easily the most sensitive area. "Oh Roma... What happened...?" Pulling his jacket and shirt off completely, I could see that his arms had deep slices in them in places, probably done with a very sharp dagger. The worst of all though, was the crude writing across his shoulder blades. Carved into his skin, presumably with the same weapon used on his arms, was the name "Ivan Braginski". It was bleeding badly, and looked incredibly painful. The surrounding skin was red, both from the blood, and irritation.

I could feel Romano's heartbeat on my forearm, as I held onto him. 'Don't leave me alone fratello. You have to escape with me.'

Something dripped onto my leg. At first, I thought it was blood, but when I looked closer, I could see that Romano was crying.

"I'm sorry fratello. I couldn't stop him." He whispered, his voice cracking despite his efforts to bottle up his emotions.

I was genuinely shocked. My brother rarely showed this kind of emotion. And when he did, he usually covered it up with anger.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Roma. If anyone should be sorry, it's me. I could have stopped him, but I was a coward..."

Romano placed a hand on the side of my face, smearing it with his blood. "Ah, don't worry yourself over my condition. I'm southern Italy after all... I'm practically made of badasses!" He allowed himself a weak laugh, before his eyes drooped shut, and he passed out again. His hand fell onto his chest, and his face muscles relaxed as he drifted off.

I brushed his bangs from his face, and whispered, "You rest, fratello. I promise that no harm will come to you while you sleep."

A/N: So how was that? Too angsty? Not violent enough? Need less description? More description? Let me know! :)