Dro: I wasn't expecting this chapter to be so long, but somehow I fit in a butt load stuff. Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter Summary: The Italy brothers take on Austria. Both Arthurs work on getting Germany back. And a very interesting person meets with Russia, spilling the secret about Germany.

Warnings: Language, Violence

Disclaimer: Still don't own APH and never will.

Roderich shoved the paper in his pocket as he sipped on his drink. Bucharest had become a very dangerous place in the last few years, and he was eager to get out of here. Waltzing into Soviet territory wasn't usually a smart move seeing as Russia had spies on every corner, but he hadn't really had a choice in the matter. If he wanted the information from the informant, he had to work on the man's terms.

They'd met up at a bar, pretending to be old friends, and the man had produced a sheet of paper listing everything they needed to know to take down the supply freighter. Last winter, they'd almost run out of supplies, their fields burned to the ground by bombers. They couldn't risk that same situation this year, not with Russia putting the pressure on them like he was. He'd been noticeably more aggressive in the last few months, as he if was finally tiring of the game they'd been playing for the last decade.

Roderich shook the man's hand as he stood up, noticing the nervousness on his face. Most of his informants looked similar, but there was something about this man that didn't feel right. He'd make sure to double check the information before giving it to Arthur as fact. He slipped his coat back on and buttoned it up. He started for the front door, stopping cold as he saw someone he hadn't been expecting. Estonia sat at a table near the door, sending an icy glare right at Roderich. Shit!

He backed up, making his way for the door that led to the alley out back. Why is Eduard here? He had no fear of the Estonian himself, as Eduard had made it very clear he wasn't truly on Russia's side. It was who might be with Eduard that worried him. The man often had an escort in Russia's inner circle; Russia's distrust of the silently rebellious Baltic states was obvious.

He wound around the gyrating crowd, pushing past the people hanging out around the back door. He forced the heavy metal door open and stepped out into the chilly alleyway, taking a deep breath. I've been compromised. I know it. There was always the risk he would be. He thought of his informant. The man could've easily been a plant designed to draw him out. He'd checked his references, who'd said the man was legit, but that meant nothing when it came to the craftiness of Russia's best spies.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to exit the alley. He had planned on leaving tomorrow, but he could push up his departure, and with Eduard's presence in mind, that was probably a good idea. He'd only taken three steps when a sound stopped him dead in his tracks. He looked up, a dark figure waiting at the end of the alley. The figure stepped toward him, illuminated by the dim light next to the bar door. Roderich's heart seized up at the sight of him.

Romano.

They found me. God damn it! He knew who would be behind him before he even turned around. Feliciano was on the opposite side of the alley. Roderich swallowed. Eduard's presence at the door had been a trap to lead him straight to the alley, a place he could be easily caught. How he could he be so stupid?

"Hello, Roderich." Feliciano spoke.

Roderich glared at him, trying to maintain his composure. It was hard. Knowing he was about to die made it difficult for him to even keep standing. He flicked his eyes back and forth between the brothers, remembering a time when they were just innocent children. But that time was long past. They'd turned from him when they were teenagers, somehow becoming involved with Russia. And somehow, that had led to this…to them becoming cold-blooded killers, little murderers that acted at Russia's command.

Anger sparked in his chest. He reached inside coat, bringing out his gun. It wouldn't do him much good, but if he could get a shot into one of the boys, then maybe he'd at least get some retribution for the pain they'd caused.

"Really now?" Romano raised an eyebrow, a knife slipping from his coat sleeve into his hand. "You know that's not going to do much good."

Feliciano mimicked his brother. He watched the brothers as they tensed up for a brief moment then took off, running at him full speed. With a second of hesitation, Roderich aimed the gun at Feliciano, shooting off three shots. None of them made contact. He whipped around just as Romano made it to him, sinking the knife blade into his chest.

Pain shot through him, and he let out a cry as second blade dug into his back. Feliciano's arm wrapped around his neck, holding him up.

"Sorry, Roderich. Nothing personal, but you're kind of in the way." Feliciano whispered in his ear.

Copper filled Roderich's mouth, blood dripping down his chin. His vision started fading. I failed you. All of you. He thought of Ludwig, who he'd left to Feliciano's mercy, of Gilbert, who was still suffering from his brother's death. He thought of Elizaveta, who he'd promised he'd remarry after all of this was over. He thought of Arthur and Francis and Antonio, who desperately needed the information he had. Then he looked down at Romano, who stared at him with indifference. The boys he'd known and loved as children had been destroyed by Russia. And he'd let it happen without batting an eyelash until it was far too late. You two…I failed you most of all.

Feliciano felt Roderich's body become dead weight. The brothers made eye contact, pulling out their knives simultaneously. Feliciano let the man's body go, watching as it hit the ground with a dull thud.

"Well, that was easy."

Romano nodded. "I expected him to put up more of a fight than that. I'm kind of disappointed."

Feliciano shrugged. "He knew he couldn't beat us no matter what, so I guess he just figured it was pointless to try."

"That's boring." Romano huffed. He turned to leave, stopping as he realized Feliciano wasn't following him. He watched as his brother dug around in Austria's coat. "What're you doing?" He understood immediately when his brother pulled out a carefully concealed piece of paper. "Ah, good idea."

Feliciano pulled out a lighter and flicked it on, watching as the piece of paper burned in his hands. He let the remains fall, the crumpled black fragment left being extinguished as it hit the damp alley ground. "Just in case." He mused.

Arthur tapped his fingers impatiently. He'd been working on this damn spell for six hours already. He'd spent the last two days recovering as much of his magic books as he could, and then there'd been an emergency in Spain involving Russian submarines, and he'd been forced to fly there and back again over the course of the day. Now here he was again, pouring all his energy into finding the right spell. He'd found a few that sounded promising, but they were fragments. Incomplete spells would be his last resort. He'd have to improvise and create an entirely new spell, which could prove unstable.

Unfortunately, that looked to be where this was heading. He hadn't found anything else so far that even indicated inter-dimensional travel. He sighed. He needed to get Germany back to his own world. Everything was compounding now. Russia's massive military was bearing down on them now on the Eastern Front, and cities were constantly being bombed. Had there been anything left of London, he had no doubt they'd be here too.

And now he had parallel worlds to worry about! He wondered every half hour or so why he was even bothering. It wasn't his fault Germany was here. So why should it be his responsibility to send him home? Then he would rationalize with himself. He was the only person with the skills and knowledge to send Germany home. On top of that, Germany was an anomaly in their world, and his presence had the possibility of causing some kind of paradox or something.

Third…there were other things that inter-dimensional travel might allow. He'd been toying with the idea for the last few days, ever since he'd heard the other Germany describe his world, a world where he was still alive. Arthur stopped flipping through the pages and glanced at the picture on his desk. A smiling blond looked back at him, glasses askew on his face after an incident with bumper cars at an amusement park.

Arthur sighed. Maybe…maybe just one more time I can…If he could get a steady portal of some kind working between Germany's world and his own, maybe they could bring in reinforcements to help take down Russia once and for all. Maybe they could get help in rebuilding their devastated world. Maybe they could finally put this terrible chapter of history behind them, and at the same time, usher in a new era of peace and new found friendship with an actual parallel universe. Maybe he could see Alfred's smiling face just one more time.

"Arthur?"

He looked up, meeting Francis' worried gaze. "What?"

"You've been working on that all day. How about you stop for dinner?"

"I need to keep working. It's important I get this done as soon as possible."

Francis frowned. "Please, Arthur?"

Arthur shook his head. "Eat without me. Tell everyone I'm busy."

"Mon cher, you really need a break. Don't forget you also have an army to help lead." Francis' frown deepened, his suspicions confirmed.

"I said no. I'll be around later. Just put some in the oven for me and keep it warm. I need to make at least some progress on this today."

"Very well then." He made his decision. "I'll be heading out a mission to Egypt tomorrow."

Arthur looked up, concerned. "Since when?"

"Since today. We received another message from an informant. They have information on Russian troop movements. I don't know when I'll be back." He turned to leave, not knowing if he was making the right choice. He shook the doubt from his mind. I will not be losing you again, Arthur.

Arthur bit his lip. "Be careful, Francis."

"I will, Angleterre."

Arthur pouted at the ashes of what used to be the apple. He'd accidentally blown it up in latest attempt to replicate the inter-dimensional travel spell. I'm such a failure. He had made some progress, however. He'd figured out what he'd done wrong in the first place, but now that he'd crossed out several sections of the previous spell, he had to fill them with something that worked correctly, and so far, he hadn't been able to.

Feliciano and Lovino had finally left for Italy, though they were expected to return for a progress update next week. Italy himself had been reluctant to leave, trying to convince his brother to attempt to run the country on his own. Romano had outright refused, convincing his brother (after several hours of trying) that it would better for everyone if he took his mind off "the potato bastard" for a while.

The house was much quieter now, though he could hear the sounds of Alfred and Francis downstairs. Francis was also about to depart for his homeland, some kind of recent financial problems beckoning him to come help his bosses. Arthur wasn't sure when Alfred was going to leave. He hadn't said anything about it yet.

He turned back to his spell book, creasing his eyebrows. The page was starting to get blurry. He squinted, bringing it back into focus. Maybe my eyes are starting to go. Perhaps I should get glasses? He shook his head. He was exhausted. He hadn't left his room all day, besides the necessary bathroom breaks and meals, of course. And his government office had been ringing him all day, asking when he'd be back at work.

Arthur let his head fall on his desk. Why must I always screw everything up so badly?

"You okay, Arthur?"

He sat up, startled. "Oh, Alfred. I'm fine."

Alfred's worried frown showed skepticism. "Maybe you should take a break for the day." He strode up to him, forcefully closing his spell book and snatching it from the desk.

"Hey! Give that back, you git!"

Alfred shook his head. "You need your rest, old man." He grinned. "You look like you're drunk and you haven't even touched alcohol today!"

Arthur grinded his teeth together. "I'm trying to work here!"

"Well, you're not going to get very much done if you work yourself into hallucinations. You need to rest. I'm sure the spell isn't going to 'magically' disappear by tomorrow. Come downstairs and rest a while. Francis is cooking dinner." Alfred walked over to Arthur's closet and placed the book on top. "That better stay there until tomorrow."

Arthur looked up at the book and then to Alfred. "And what if it doesn't?"

Alfred's eyes drained of all amusement. "I'm not kidding, Arthur. You look terrible, and you're hurting yourself." He grabbed Arthur's arms and squeezed gently. "You need to stop it."

Arthur found himself blushing. "Well…fine then." He scoffed.

A hint of mirth flickered in Alfred's blue eyes. Before Arthur could stop him, Alfred kissed him full on the lips. Pulling back to Arthur's stunned green eyes, he started laughing. "You're so cute when you're angry, old man!"

The next he knew, Alfred was bounding off down the stairs, cackling loudly. Arthur stood there in a stupor for several seconds. Then he exploded. "W—what the bloody hell was that?"

"And you expect me to believe everything you're telling me, da?" Ivan swirled the vodka in his glass, eying the man sitting across from him. When he'd heard this particular man desired a meeting with him, he'd been more than surprised. It wasn't often someone like him broke from his routine and went out of his way to give Ivan information. In fact, this particular man had never come back to him after he'd freed him on the condition of being a spy. And he hadn't expected him to come back either.

"I do. It is the truth." The man shifted uneasily in his chair.

"And how, pray tell, does something like this occur?"

"They believe magic might be to blame."

"Magic? Is England still going on about that?"

"It was the most likely cause, and they are already looking for a way to send the…other one back where he came from."

"So, somewhere, out there, is an entire other world just like this one but with a slightly different history?"

"In theory, yes. And according to the other one, yes."

"Tell me something." He leaned closer to the man. "Why is it you chose to tell me this?"

The man sipped his drink, obviously nervous. "I worry about the implications. I fear they may attempt to contact this...other world…to bring in help."

"Hmm, interesting idea." Ivan was no fool. He knew this man's vanity and desires were more to blame for his sudden appearance than worry for Ivan's empire. He chuckled to himself. This man had always been a lovesick fool. He just didn't want that man to come back. The only thing this man had ever done for Ivan was to help him bring down his biggest adversary. And Ivan supposed he did owe him something for that, despite the fact the man had helped him do it for personal reasons. "You say that England is currently working on this in London, da?"

"Yes."

"I'll send someone out there to…how would you say it, shake things up a bit, da?"

"That would be appreciated, Ivan."

Ivan chuckled. "You know I'm not a fool, da?"

The man stiffened. "I know."

"You're doing this only because you don't want England to find a replacement for his hero, da?"

The man drew his lips into a thin line. "I've seen the cogs turning in his head already. He may honestly want to sent the other Germany home, but that is not all he has in mind."

Ivan shook his head. "I am amused that your personal vendetta falls in line with my goals." He smiled. "Regardless, I suppose you have kept your word to me, so I will keep mine to you. You can expect a raid within the next two weeks. I don't suppose England will have completed his..."magic" within that time frame?"

"Doubtful. He's only made little progress so far."

"Than I shall make sure he makes no more, da?"

The man nodded, blond hair falling into his face.

"I suppose we're done here then. There's a helicopter waiting for you on the roof."

The man stood up, sliding his coat back onto his thin frame. Ivan downed the rest of his vodka, watching with amused eyes as the man headed toward the door.

"Oh, and one more thing."

The man tensed before turning to look back at him. "Yes?"

"Since you have finally graced me with your presence, I would like to request that you send information more often. I've been a little disappointed thus far with your lack of reports."

Blue eyes hardened. He knew he was caught. Ivan could easily throw him in a cell and get rid of him. He had plenty other spies that could take his place. "All right then. I'll pass along anything significant I find out." He opened the door, turning his back on Ivan.

Ivan grinned. "You do that, Francis."

Dro: The plot thickens! Ha ha! Remember, reviews are love!

Next Chapter: Russia's promised raid happens in London, scattering the nations and destroying Arthur's work. Meanwhile, the news of Austria's death finally arrives, and the resistance forces realize there's only way to stop the USSR: kill Russia himself.