Dro: Hey, guys! Ready for another chapter of parallel world awesomeness? Well, here you go! (By the way, I don't have a beta, so if you guys see a terrible error...like a really bad one...can you tell me in the review? Thanks!)

Chapter Summary: Russia's revelation about Germany has Italy reliving old nightmares. Meanwhile, America heads to the parallel world, but not before admitting his feelings to a certain someone. -hint hint-

Warnings: I forgot this was a T-rated fic for a minute, so watch out for Romano's terrible language. Other than that, there's actually not too much that's really bad in this chapter, unless you count some kissing and oblique references to violence.

Disclaimer: Dro will never own APH, guys. I know, it's sad, right?

Feliciano marched down the hallway, people evading him left and right as soon as they saw who he was. Ignoring them, he headed toward Ivan's main office. He'd gotten the memo just a few minutes ago to meet up with Ivan. Apparently, the man had something important to tell him. He wondered what Ivan could possibly have to tell him alone. Usually, meetings with Ivan included Lovino.

Reaching the door, he knocked three times and heard Ivan's curt reply of "Come in." He opened the door to see Ivan at his desk, his favorite chess set set up next to his computer. Ivan twirled around a black knight in his fingers.

"Good morning, Feliciano."

"Good morning, Ivan." Feliciano closed the door and walked up to Ivan's desk. "You wanted to see me, sir?" He straightened his back. He and Ivan both tended to act professional while at work.

"Mhmm. I have recently been enlightened to a most interesting fact." Ivan placed the knight back on the board, moving it to take out a white pawn.

Feliciano raised an eyebrow. "What might that be, sir?"

Ivan's playful eyes met his own. "Come here." He turned his chair to the left and patted his knee, indicating for Feliciano to sit on it.

Feliciano's other eyebrow went up. Maybe not so professional after all. Ivan did not often want to "play" during the day. Shrugging off the oddness of the situation, he slipped onto Ivan's lap, facing him, and let his arms rest on the man's shoulders. Ivan's hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Feliciano brought his hands to Ivan's face as he kissed back. This is really strange. Ivan broke the kiss, and Feliciano gave him a questioning gaze.

"Sorry. But I have a feeling you're about to be in a bad mood for the rest of the day, so I thought I'd get that out of my system now."

"Come again?" What is he talking about?

"How to explain this…I suppose I should just come out and say it." Ivan sighed. Feliciano was starting to get worried now. "Apparently, by way of some kind of magic, a Germany from a parallel world has ended up in ours. And he is currently with and helping the resistance forces."

Feliciano's mind blanked at the name Germany. "Um…I'm sorry…what did you say?" His heart pounded hard in his chest.

"I'm saying there's another Germany, Feliciano." Ivan's hand caressed his cheek gently, kind eyes hiding a malicious intent that would lash out the moment Feliciano made the wrong reaction to this news. Feliciano knew this well, so he did nothing, despite the fact he felt ready to breakdown and cry.

"How is that possible? Did you say magic?" He kept his voice steady. Somehow. Keep it together. Keep it together. A memory of a blood covered hand flashed in his mind. He pushed it back. Not yet. Not in front of Ivan. He will beat me senseless.

Ivan scrutinized him. Apparently satisfied, he replied. "Yes. One of my spies tells me that dear old Arthur believes magic is responsible. They are looking for a way to return him to his world. However, this may cause some problems for us. If they can somehow manage to tap resources from another world…well, obviously that would give them an advantage we don't want them to have."

"Of course. So, is there something you want me to do?" Please don't, Ivan. Please. It will kill me this time. The image of blood covered knife burn its way through his consciousness. He was starting to feel faint.

"Yes." Ivan smiled. He smiled with that damned fake innocent smile that Feliciano hated with a passion. "I would like you to kill this Germany."

Feliciano's heart skipped a beat. You bastard! He kept a steady face, putting on the expression he used when considering a kill.

"That shouldn't be too hard for you, right?" He reached over and moved the black knight again, putting it face to face with a white knight. "I mean, you've already done it once before."

"No, Ivan. It shouldn't be too difficult." Feliciano tugged his lips up into the usual docile smile he used when confronting Ivan. "Is there a time frame? You want this done soon?"

"As soon as possible."

"I will get to work on it. I am assuming this is a solo mission? Am I allowed to tell Lovino or is top secret?"

Ivan mulled it over. "If you want. He can help you locate the man. But remember, it's your kill."

Feliciano stiffened. He knows. Somehow…some way…he knows. He nodded. "Of course." He rose from Ivan's lap. "Is that all, sir?"

"It is. You may go."

Feliciano headed out the door, trying to stop his body from shaking. It was a futile fight. He gave Ivan one more smile before closing the office door behind him. He rushed down the hall, just short of a full run, toward his bedroom. Tears prickled his eyes. Another image slammed into him. A blond man's bloody body laying motionless on the floor. He wrenched his door open and slammed it behind him, releasing a strangled sob as he tried to lock it. Then he collapsed onto his knees, his chest constricting.

Tears poured down his cheeks as the memories assaulted him. A bright, sunny day, birds chirping. Food on the stove, smelling wonderful. A man standing there, gorgeous and happy. And so was he. So was he. So happy. And then he turned around and saw his brother give the signal. And he froze.

A beautiful kitchen with food still on the stove, food now starting to burn. Sunlight still streamed through the windows, highlighting the beauty of the day. And he stood there motionless with a blood covered hand and a blood covered knife, staring down a blood covered floor. And the person on it…God!

He started hyperventilating. He collapsed into a ball, rocking back and forth, gripping his hair hard with his hands. He suppressed a scream of agony. Make it stop! Make it stop! Please! He couldn't do it again. He couldn't watch Ludwig die again. No. No. No. No!

The memories were drowning him. He struggled to get in a breath. In the distance, he heard a dull thud against the door followed by a loud shout. He curled up tighter, ignoring everything. The door slammed the wall as someone threw it open.

"What is…fratello?!" Lovino closed the door again, relocking it, and shoved the key into pocket. He bent down next to Feliciano, shaking him gently. "What's wrong, Feliciano? Are you okay?"

Feliciano's reply was another strangled sob. Lovino sighed. He'd thought his fratello had passed this stage months ago. Something must have happened. He pulled his crying brother into his arms and deposited him on the bed. Shuffling through the nightstand's drawer, he produced a bottle of sleeping pills. He popped the cap and poured two into his hand, grabbing the bottle of water from his desk.

"Fratello, take these. They'll help you calm down, okay?"

"Don't want to sleep!"

"Don't fight me on this! You can barely breathe like you are now! Just take them!"

Feliciano relented, releasing himself from his fetal position and allowing himself to swallow the pills. He collapsed back onto the bed, waiting for the inevitable sleep, and pressed his face into the pillow. Lovino sat next to him, running a hand through Feliciano's hair. What could've happened?

"Can't do it again."

"You can't do what, Feliciano?"

"I can't kill him again."

Lovino froze. What is he talking about? He knew damn well what Feliciano was referring to, but he couldn't figure out what his brother meant by "again." A sudden knock on the door broke him from his disturbing pattern of thought. He slipped off the bed and unlocked the door, opening it a crack.

"Yao?" The Chinese man looked up, apparently not amused.

"Ivan told me he needs to see you, aru. Something about Feliciano and a mission." He huffed. Yao was renown for hating being used as a messenger, mostly because Ivan tended to use him exclusively as one whenever he was staying in Russia.

"All right. Thanks for passing the message."

Yao snorted. "Whatever. I have work to do."

"Kiku still giving you trouble?"

"When has he not, aru? And now he has those damned Nordic bastards working with him, along with the damn Netherlands! It wouldn't be so bad without him, but he's a master strategist."

"As are you. I'm sure you can manage them."

Yao sighed. "I hope so, aru. Ivan is beginning to get impatient. He really wants Japan."

Lovino shrugged. "Ivan wants everything."

Yao smiled ruefully. "That he does, aru."

Alfred watched diligently, silent for one of those rare times in his life. Arthur, equally silent, went about his work, setting up the ingredients he needed to perform the spell. Alfred blew a hair out of his face, tapping his fingers on the chair he was sitting in with nervous anticipation. He was really going to another world, wasn't he? He didn't know why he was surprised. It was his idea, after all. But the idea just sounded so absurd.

Arthur had spent all day trying to talk him out of it, but Alfred wouldn't have it. He was the hero, and he would act like it in this situation. If the only way to get Germany back was to send someone else to the parallel world, then Alfred would go there, hands down. His eyes tracked Arthur's every move, the man looking tired and unraveled. Arthur had worked his ass off to fix his spell, missing out on important international relations meeting, blowing off his bosses and his queen…Alfred was worried about him.

He knew Arthur wouldn't relax until both he and Germany were back, safe and sound. Which meant he needed to do this fast. Arthur was spiraling downward quickly. The guilt from his accidental spell was crushing him. And Alfred couldn't stand to see him that way. He cared about Arthur so much, though he wasn't sure how to tell him. He imagined a relationship between his former guardian and himself would be rather awkward and most of the time, long distance. They were nations. They had work to do. Every day. All the time.

It was amazing any of them could keep up relationships. He wondered how Germany and Italy managed to do it. True, they weren't officially dating, but it was pretty obvious what happened between them behind closed doors. And they'd been together for so long now. How did they manage it? Alfred promised himself he'd ask Germany when he located him in this parallel world.

"All right. I think that's it." Arthur swallowed. He didn't want to do this. How could he justify sending Alfred to the other world like this? But the man was so persistent!

Alfred stood up and walked over to Arthur, standing inside the magic circle the man had created. Their eyes met, Arthur's green ones pleading with him. Something struck Alfred. What if he was gone for months? Or years even? What if it took him a hell of a long time to find Germany? Would Arthur slowly waste away here, cracking emotionally thinking he'd sent Alfred to his death? He saw the impending future swirling in Arthur's worried eyes.

A wall of firm decision pushed him forward. He stepped out the circle just as Arthur held up his notes, and the man jumped, confused. "Alfred, what're you…?"

Alfred plucked the papers from Arthur's hand and slammed them on the desk, causing Arthur to jump again. "What—?" Alfred grabbed him by the arms and pulled him into a searing kiss. He'd teased Arthur too long with chaste hints. He wanted to Arthur to know. Arthur tensed in his grip for several seconds, green eyes wide in disbelief. The look melted down after a few seconds, his lips loosening up and starting to kiss back. His eyes slipped completely closed as Alfred's hands slid from his arms and settled around his waist. Arthur's arms shot up around Alfred's neck, pulling him further in to the kiss.

Arthur's heart pounded in his chest. Their kiss broke for a brief moment before they were together again. Is this really happening? I'm dreaming, aren't I? There was no way Alfred really felt this way about him. He certainly didn't feel this way about Alfred…or…did he? He pushed himself up against Alfred, mesmerized by the other man's lips. Oh God, he did have feelings for Alfred! Why the hell didn't I notice this before? He jumped as he felt Alfred's tongue run along lips, coaxing them open. Oh God…I'm really going to…

"Wah!"

"What the fuck?"

The broke apart, Arthur reeling backwards into his desk, Alfred tripping over a chair and flipping backward onto the floor. Arthur looked at the doorway, where a very disturbed pair of Italy brothers were staring at them in utter disbelief. Oh…ha ha…I forgot they were coming over today.

"Hey…you two…how're you?" He smiled, his face twitching as it heated up in embarrassment.

"Well, I was fine until I walked in on you two sucking each other's faces off!" Romano snapped. "What the fuck was that? Since when were you two together?"

"Ve, Romano, calm down! I think it's cute. That was just…surprising." Italy laughed, a blush on his face.

Alfred rolled himself over and stood up, rubbing his sore head. "Hey, guys! I guess we should've locked the door, huh?"

"Yeah…" Romano didn't look amused. He eyes landed on the magic circle. "What's going on here?"

"Ah…well…about that…" Arthur stumbled over his words. He spent the next fifteen minutes explaining everything to the Italy brothers, Alfred hovering behind him the entire time. I'm never going to live this down when those two still everything to everyone.

"Ve, so you're leaving right now, Alfred?" Italy looked up at him in wonder. He wished he could go too. He wanted to see Ludwig again. His house just felt so empty without Ludwig's presence, even with his fratello there all the time. He'd gotten so used to Ludwig's presence. Everything just felt wrong without him there.

Alfred nodded. "Yeah, Germany's already been gone for a while now. If I don't leave soon, it might be really hard to find him."

Arthur shook his head as Alfred looked at him. "Let's just get this over with."

"Unless you two want to fuck first. We can always leave so you can have your goodbye sex."

"Fratello!"

Alfred coughed, ignoring Romano. He turned to Arthur, whose face was on fire. He chuckled, leaning in and kissing Arthur softly on the lips one last time. Romano sputtered behind him. He leaned close to Arthur's ear. "I will be back, and don't you forget that."

Arthur sighed, a small smile gracing his lips. "I won't."

Alfred stepped back into the circle, taking a deep breath. Arthur picked up his papers, his hand shaking. He started to read, slowly at first, the picked up the pace. The circle lit up, and Alfred closed his eyes as a strange feeling swept through him. Italy and Romano looked on in awe from the sideline. Arthur hit the last line of the spell, his anxiety building up. Please, Alfred…Please come back. The last word passed his lips.

A bright burst of light filled the room, and he snapped his eyes closed. It died out, and he stood there, blinking wildly and seeing spots. He looked at the circle.

Alfred was gone.

Alfred opened his eyes to a bright blue sky. Shaking off the odd feeling of falling, he sat up, looking around. He was on a slab broken off a wall of a collapsed building. Realizing the carnage around him, he moved to stand, his hand brushing something. He glanced down, spotting a green apple. He wrapped his fingers around it, knowing what it meant.

He stood up, his eyes surveying the immense destruction. The lining of his trademark jacket rustled in the wind, and he pulled it closer to him, a chill running down his spine. He inhaled a cold breath, disbelief starting to spike in his stomach.

"This place…" In the distance, he spotted something that shook him to the core. The London Eye. "London…I'm in…London?"

A sound caught his ears, a sound he recognized. Jets? He glanced up at the sky, spotting three fighter jets flying over head. Three fighter jets that seemed to have spotted him and were heading his way.

Three fighter jets bearing the mark of the Soviet Union.

His body screamed a single command at him.

Run.

Dro: Ah...things don't start out so well for America there...

Next Chapter: America runs for his life, managing to take out a jet in the process by using his super strength. Pressed for information, he attacks the downed pilot, only to stop when he realizes who it is. Meanwhile, the resistance puts together a crack team to take out Russia. But will France ruin the plan before it's ever set into motion?