An all too familiar scent wafted throughout the first floor of Germany's house and reached the man it was looking for. A soft thump sounded as Germany lightly tossed a book onto the coffee table. Sighing, he stood up from the couch and started to head towards the kitchen. He, however, hesitated before fully leaving the room and glanced toward another door adjacent from his current location.

He would be lying if he said he hadn't hoped that Prussia would have already bounded up from the basement by now, finally getting over what had upset him, like a child would after being yelled at by his parents earlier in the day. It seemed that not even the enticing smell of Italy's cooking was enough to draw him out of his mood.

Two bowls lying on the kitchen table next to some silverware greeted Germany as well as a humming Italy, who was turned away from Germany as he searched through the fridge for something or other.

After a few moments he turned around to head back towards the table but stopped short at the sight of Germany; a bottle of beer and a can of San Pellegrino were in Italy's hands. "Oh Germany, it's just you." A bit of confusion lacing into his last few words after realizing it really was just Germany, almost as if Italy too expected Prussia to have come up from the stairs as he usually would when he smelled dinner.

Germany only nodded before pulling out one of the chairs causing Italy to do the same to the chair across from him, both drinks in his hands were placed in front of each other. The silence between the two would usually come as a relief as well as a blessing for Germany but the strangeness of the situation only dimmed his mood.

Few thoughts crossed his mind as he picked at the long noodles in the bowl with a fork. Before Italy, he didn't really keep things in his house to make food like pasta or pizza with, and when they first started an alliance he had refused to let Italy bring or leave any type of food to cook with in his house.

At the time, Germany was against the idea of letting Italy do anything in his house that he thought may lead Italy to stay longer or even make it so he never wanted to leave. It wasn't long before he eventually gave up on the rule and even started buying food for Italy to cook with.

He had realized that Italy was like a wife or a persistent telemarketer who barely spoke your language, it didn't matter what you did, somehow they would almost always get their way in the end.

"Germany are you upset with-a me?" Italy's voice brought his drifting thoughts to a stop.

However, despite this he kept his eyes on the food. "Nein . . . I'm just thinking, that's all." It came off plainer and a bit weaker then Germany had wanted it to sound.

"About what?" He didn't respond back. "Hm, are you-a thinking about Prussia?"

"About you, actually." The sullen look in Germany's eyes had Italy more concerned than flattered.

The Italians lips dropped to an even lower frown than before. "So you are upset with-a me." A faint ache jabbed at Germany's heart, the distraught childlike features had wormed its way into Germany's conscience. This was a quality of Italy's that actually advanced at someone rather than retreated back.

"Nein, I was at first but not anymore. I'm just not in the best of moods at the moment."

Italy thought about it for a moment before his usual smile reappeared on his face. "Okay, I didn't really think you-a had many good moods and you looked troubled after talking with Prussia so I-a thought that he said something about me that made you upset."

Germany shook his head, few emotions showed on his face even in his turmoil. "It's just between me and mein brother; don't worry."

"Ah, sometimes my brothers makes me-a upset too. Like how he only seems to hug me during Christmas, but only because Finland told him that-a Santa wouldn't bring him any presents that year after if he didn't or when he-a threatens to hide pineapple chunks under the cheese on my pizza since I-a don't like pineapple on my pizza it makes the pizza taste weird and I don't like it that way and he says he threatens to do that because he thinks I-a let Spain come over to our house without-a asking if it's okay; but I never invited him to begin with, something tells me that he has key but Romano doesn't believe me. It also makes me upset when France does things like-a that too, but Spain usually just sits in the living room watching football or Escenas de matrimonio, France likes to sneak in when I'm-a sleeping and sometimes I think it's Romano because its dark and I can't tell who it is, so I don't figure out it's him till I-a wake up and that makes me upset because I don't like-a sleeping with France because he doesn't wear clothes to bed and that's just weird. Another thing that makes me up-"

What Italy didn't notice as he ranted was that Germany had already tuned him out awhile back like a man does with his girlfriend or a history student who's internal monologue has only the drone of the teacher to contend with. Besides, if the German hadn't been ignoring him, Italy wouldn't have made it past the word 'Christmas'.

A couple minutes went by and Germany had become aware of the silence that once again filled the room. Finally he looked back up to see that Italy's mouth was closed, his lips forming a straight line. He was staring at him with an intensity to his air.

"Huh, what's wrong?" Italy's face didn't change.

"I'm-a thinking."

"What about?"

To Germany's surprise, a large grin spread across Italy's face making any odd feelings disappear before him. "You." He stated.

Germany blinked, not quite sure if he should smile or be disturbed. "And why are you thinking about me?"

If he hadn't thought the smile could grow any larger, the German would have been proven wrong. "I'm thinking about you because I lov-" Both of them jumped at the sudden ringing and vibrations coming from both of their pockets.

The two swiftly pulled out their phones, Italy's caller I.D said that it was Japan while Germany's said it was Austria. Almost simultaneously they stood up while clicking the accept button. Slowly the two walked away in different directions while listening to their phones.

It wasn't long before both of them clicked the end button, strangely enough both conversation were rushed and concern having filled Japan and Austria's voices, neither of them gave an explanation why they wanted them to go to Switzerland's capital for a meeting, all they knew was that they didn't have time for a sit down dinner anymore.

"Germany?" Said man glanced back toward the Italian as he stood motionless in the doorway of the house, Germany on the other hand was already several feet out the door with a bag in hand.

"What's wrong?" Italy clasped the bag he had brought harder, not really sure if he should ask Germany the question he was thinking.

"I was-a thinking. . . Shouldn't you bring Prussia?"

". . . I didn't really bring him with me a lot before."

"I know but it seems important and don't you-a want him to come with us just in case. I mean he does represent part of you."

A slight growling emitted from the back of his throat causing Italy to take a few steps back. "He doesn't think he represents anything anymore."

Italy wanted to question him even more then-maybe even try to reassure him that it wasn't true. But unfortunately, there was a more important matter awaiting them. Maybe he would he talk to him about it on the way there.

So without much more thought, the two of them were off; leaving Prussia behind them. In the back of their minds they knew that they would eventually come back and Prussia would be waiting there for them.

. . .

Italy opened his mouth but no words came forth, Germany however didn't seem to notice. It had been a rather stressful journey up until now, Italy had driven for thirty minutes while Germany reserved train tickets to the closest area to the meeting, seeing as they were going to Switzerland rather than somewhere farther it would be slower to go by plane.

Currently, Germany was watching the world outside of the train pass by as he sent multiple mass texts to every nation on his contact list and so was Italy, though, he was rather slow and often stopped as he became lost in thought. It got worse with every second he spent with no reply back or a call that kept on ringing till the monotone voice told him to leave a message, only a few picked up there phones, but they were completely unaware of a meeting. Both of them were becoming deterred by this.

Germany sighed before pushing the call button and pressing it against his ear. After three rings he was about to press the end knowing that it would be the same as the last. "H-Hello . . .?"

It took him a moment for him to respond back. "Uh, guten tag its Germany."

There was a pause. "Oh . . . you don't usually call me." His voice was rather quiet almost whisper like.

"Yes, there seems to be something important I need to talk to you about."

"I-I'm a bit busy."

"What are you doing?"

The person on the other line sounded as if he groaned in frustration. "Leaving to visit my brother before-" He stopped his sentence suddenly.

"Before the meeting, are you going to it?" Seven seconds went by without an answer. "Huh, America, America are you still there?" It wasn't until the silence on the other end went totally quiet when Germany looked at the screen only to find the illuminated letters of 'Call ended' blinking on the screen.

"Huh what-a happened?" He glanced over towards Italy, for a little while it felt as if he wasn't even there.

"Call America, see if he picks up." Nodding, he clicked through the lists for the number. When he did dial it though, unlike the last time it only took a second before the forwarding was activated. Seeing this the German rubbed at the back of his head. "Strange, he answered before why not now?"

'He knows something, something the others who answered didn't.' Thought Germany.

"Maybe the reason no one's picking up is because they're busy trying to get to the meeting." His cheery tone didn't sound all that convincing to Germany's ears, but temporally, he decided to go with Italy's notion even if he knew that wasn't the case-or at least for America it wasn't.

"Maybe . . ."

Another silence passed between the two of them. It wasn't that neither of them had anything to say, but that Italy didn't know how to ask it and Germany didn't want to give Italy a truthful answer (as he was wont to do with the other). All the Italian could do was watch his friend stare out the window again as he fidgeted in his seat. "Germany?"

"Yes?"

". . . I'm-a Hungry, we didn't get to eat any of the pasta before we-a left."

He didn't break his gaze to look back at Italy, any interest in the conversation had evaporated into thin air moments ago. Now he believed that the rest of the ride there was going to be filled with the persistent nagging of the Italian. "Oh well, I guess."

Frowning, Italy tried to move the topic along to what he was really trying to say. "Prussia doesn't know we left . . . with the food siting on the table he might think that something bad happened to us." His voice had gotten slower and softer as he saw Germany's face contort to a rather mixed and unexplainable emotion.

"Either he goes up there and doesn't care about us or he does care what happened. Either way I don't care."

The look on Italy's face only fell further, maybe if Germany turned his head he would have reassured him things were going to be fine or to stop talking the way he was altogether. "Sometime during the seventies I once got lost in South America for two weeks and when I got back Romano hit me with a brick."

Italy had been looking down at his hands when he said this and when he looked back up he saw Germany narrowing his eyes and raising an eyebrow, somewhat confused with a small amount of hidden concerned. "I think someone needs to babysit the both of you."

'No way in hell would it be me though.' He thought.

With a faint smile he replied. "I just don't want Prussia to hit you with a brick when you come back."

. . .

Italy trailed behind Germany as the two walked through a narrow corridor. Neither of them had spoken a word since they had gotten off the train which was strange seeing as there was never a time in which Italy would shut up for more the five minutes during a trip. Given what they knew there wasn't much left to talk about and it didn't look like Germany wanted to restart the topic of Prussia anytime soon.

Italy was so busy in his thoughts that when Germany abruptly stopped he bumped right into him. "There haven't been many times that they've called for an unplanned meeting before . . ." Italy trailed off into mumble and his eyes looked down towards the ground. "Huh?" He looked back up at the small amount of pressure being put upon his shoulder.

"Maybe it's just Poland or France being over-dramatic about something again." Germany knew how unlikely that was and that the faint smile Italy gave in response would disappear as soon as they stepped past the threshold of the door, but at the moment he'd rather not be the one who made it go away.

Germany was correct in his assumption, because the second they opened the door they were greeted by complete madness.