Disclaimer: Do not own.

"Can I ask you a question?" Italy ventured.

Holy Rome stopped walking and turned to look back at him.

"What is it, Italy?" he asked.

"What about Spain and Romano?" he wondered. "Are they okay? We don't know when we need to save them. Shouldn't we try to find them?"

"What are you talking about?" Holy Rome asked. "Spain and Romano? They never came here. We just need to go find Prussia and save him. Then we can get out of here."

Italy tried to think about this. His head was so… jumbled up. He wasn't sure what was real anymore. He thought Spain and Romano had come, but maybe that was just a mistake. Maybe they had come some other time. Or had Italy himself even come here before? He must have. He remembered going through this before. He knew when he had to save Prussia, but something seemed off about his memories. Like there was something missing.

"Italy, just focus on finding Prussia, okay?"

Holy Rome seemed to know what was happening, so Italy decided to listen to him. He could try to remember what he was missing later. Right now, he had to save Prussia. If he didn't save Prussia, it wouldn't matter anyways.

Right?

Determined to succeed this time, Italy began walking faster.

A few minutes later, he and Holy Rome found Prussia stumbling down the stairs from the top floor, blood already coating his uniform from multiple wounds. He smiled as he saw them approaching.

"I was… looking for… you," he gasped out.

He began to fall, and Italy rushed forward to catch him. He was still too weak to hold all of Prussia's weight, but he managed to break his fall.

"What happened?" Italy sobbed. "We were coming to save you! Why didn't we make it in time?"

Prussia offered him a pained grin.

"I got something… you might… want," he remarked.

He took one of Italy's hands in his own and pressed a small, metal object into it. Italy didn't have to look to know that it was the key to the mansion's front door.

"I just want you to live!" Italy insisted. "I don't care about escaping! Not when I've lost everyone!"

"I just need some rest," Prussia told him. "I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

Italy shook his head.

"No. No!" he screamed. "You're lying! You're going to die here! And I'm going to be left all alone!"

"You're not alone," Holy Rome reminded him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Come along. We have to go."

Too drained to protest, Italy let Holy Rome help him to his feet. But once standing, the only thing he could do was collapse sobbing in his friend's chest. Holy Rome held him tightly and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"Don't cry, Italy," he murmured. "I don't want to see you crying."

Italy wanted to reply; to apologize for being so weak. But his throat was constricted by sobs, and he couldn't form the words.

Holy Rome seemed to understand, though. He lifted Italy into his arms and began to carry him away. As they moved away from Prussia's body and things began slipping, Italy caught one last glimpse over Holy Rome's shoulder of a distant blur of red, white, and blue.

Red. White. Blue.

Those three colors stirred a memory, even as he found it hard to remember what had sparked this train of thought. He let it go, a tiny part of him wondering if it was the reason he was crying, and focused solely on the colors.

Red. White. Blue.

"Red, white, and blue," he whispered under his breath.

"What was that?" Holy Rome asked.

But Italy ignored him. He could feel his memories trying to escape. If he focused on anything else, he would lose it.

Red. White. Blue.

"Okay, everyone! Let's all gather under the red, white, and blue to protect the world! I'll be the hero!"

The voice was achingly familiar, but somehow Italy couldn't place it. However, he refused to give up. He tried to think of things connected to that voice. He didn't even know why this was so important, but he knew he had to remember. Something began to stir in his subconscious. He thought he could smell… tea?

"I'm getting through."

The words that came into his head weren't a memory. The voice was familiar, though he couldn't place it.

"Who are you?" he asked.

He wasn't sure if he said the words aloud or not. It didn't matter. He had to focus. If he stopped focusing, he'd forget.

"Italy, listen. You said this to me, now I'll say it to you: Open your eyes."

Open his eyes?

"Italy! Pull yourself together." Holy Rome ordered.

Italy looked up at him, trying to piece together the event of the past few minutes. He and Holy Rome had been going… somewhere, but something had happened. What had happened? Why was he sad?

"Holy Rome, why am I crying?" he asked. "Why are you carrying me? I'm not hurt."

Holy Rome didn't answer, but simply set him on his feet.

An unfamiliar weight in his hand. He looked down at it and saw a welcome sight through a veil of tears.

"Holy Rome! Look! It's the key!"

Holy Rome nodded.

"That's right."

"Did we find it? Why is it covered in blood?"

"It's not your blood, or mine," Holy Rome assured him.

Somehow, Italy still felt uneasy.

"But I've never seen the monster bleed before," he remarked.

"What are you talking about?" Holy Rome asked.

Italy held up the key.

Wait. There were no bloodstains on it.

Of course there weren't. There never had been. Why was he imagining things?

"The front door is close, right?" Italy recalled.

He began running, so happy that he could finally get out. This mansion was frightening. He'd been so afraid of those grey monsters. But he and Holy Rome were both fine. They'd found the key, and everything was going to be okay. It was better than he'd dreamed.

So why was he still crying?

He paused as he reached the front door at last, waiting for Holy Rome to catch up.

He kept waiting.

"Holy Rome?" he called.

There was no reply.

"Holy Rome?"

Still nothing. Italy was starting to get scared.

As the silence continued, Italy finally worked up the courage to search for his friend. He slowly began to retrace his steps, climbing the stairs back to the second floor.

"Holy Rome?" he called again.

Finally, an answer.

"I'm in here, Italy."

Holy Rome's voice sounded so… sad. Italy was instantly on edge. He opened the door and entered the room. It was small and had the same surgical ordinariness that characterized the rest of the house.

Holy Rome stood in the far corner, facing away from him and examining the door to what was presumably a closet.

"Holy Rome?" Italy ventured.

The Holy Roman Empire stiffened slightly.

"Hello, Italy."

Author's Note: CLIFFHANGER! I'm evil, aren't I? I originally planned to have all this stuff with Italy be one chapter, but it started getting long, so it'll be at least two. But, on the plus side, I'm already well into the next chapter so you won't have to wait too long.

Thanks for reading :)

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