Germany's mind raced from stressful topic to stressful topic. We're losing this war. He almost a didn't notice the Italian bearing a worried expression.

"What's wrong?" Italy asked, bearing a cheeky smile.

Why is he smiling? What is there to smile about right now?

"Nothing, Italy. Go away." Germany replied as kindly as he could, biting back an angry response.

He noted a brief flash of distress across Italy's face as he turned away, but didn't think much of it. Maybe he finally realized the gravity of our situation.

There was a clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen, Was is he cooking this time? If it's pasta again I swear to Gott I'm going to- "AH!" His thought's were cut short by a crash and a scream.

"Was are you doing?" He yelled, getting more and more irritated by the second.

Italy hollered from the kitchen, "Er, nothing. I'm okay! Don't worry, I'll put these back...eventually."

Put was back? Germany leaned over on the couch, peering into the kitchen. Italy had his foot up on the table and there was a pile of cookware on the counter and one large pot on the floor. He felt his face get red with pure irritation.

"Feet off the table! And put those away now, unless you plan on cooking with them!" He yelled, near his limit.

Italy's face scrunched a little, holding back revealing a frown. He sighed and slowly moved his foot from the table top, "Scusa...I'm putting them up now." His whole demeanor screamed kicked puppy, causing Germany to feel a little bad. It's not like Italy went out of his way to make messes, though it did seem like it sometimes.

"Danke." He said, trying to soften his tone. It only came out flat and slightly less irritated, and then repositioned himself on the couch, no longer looking into the kitchen, rather staring at the floor, thinking desperately of ways to win. His thoughts were once again disturbed by obnoxious noises from the kitchen. This time it was loud thuds, as if someone was bouncing something heavy, or walking with two feet tied together.

"Italy? Was in Gott's name are you doing?" He snapped, having given up on softening his tone.

The noise stopped and Italy hastily relied, "Nothing, nothing!" Making more noise now with all the movement of cookware.

It was taking every ounce of restraint Germany had not to explode then and there. He needed to go somewhere away from Italy before he snapped and feelings got hurt. "I'm just going to go up to my room." He said through gritted teeth, "When I come back down this better be cleaned up."

Germany started up the stairs hearing Italy call obediently, "Yes sir!"

Once in his bedroom he slammed the door behind him and sat on his bed. All was quiet downstairs for awhile, until the stirring of pots and pans was heard again, this time muffled through the door. Germany threw himself back on his bed and pressed two pillows to his ears, trying to block out the noise.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Italy cried. Germany looked away, disgusted.

"I can't believe you did this...I can't believe you. You've betrayed me."

Italy's face twisted in pain and he sobbed loudly, "No! No, I never meant to! I was trying to do what was best!"

"What was best for who? The Allies?" Germany yelled into Italy's face, grabbing him by the collar.

"No...no." Italy muttered, looking into Germany's eyes, "For everyone."

Germany couldn't stand to look into those sad, amber eyes anymore. All it did was make him angry, angry enough to hit him. He turned away and let go of Italy, balling his hands into tight fist to restrain himself from violence.

"Germany?"

"Go away." He said in a terrifyingly soft tone.

"Germany it's okay, just because we lost it doesn't mean-"

"GO!" Germany screamed into Italy's face, causing him to fall backwards into a mud puddle, startled.

SLAM! Germany awoke to a loud bang, startled. He had fallen asleep. It was just a dream...Gott sei Dank, it was just a dream.

He got out of bed, stiff from the awkward position he'd fallen asleep in. He went to go inspect where the loud slam had come from. Probably just Italy, again.

No matter where he searched around the house there was no Italian to be found. He did find that the cookware had been sloppily stuffed into a cabinet, though. Germany came to the conclusion that he'd left, thankfully. Now he'd have some peace and quiet to think about that strange dream.

Italy betrayed me somehow. That's stupid, he's as loyal as a dog. Lazy as a dog, too. What a ridiculous dream. He thought to himself, but some strange nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that this dream was at least of some significance. Ger many impatiantly drummed his fingers on a table, It was just a dream.