In the moments he was trying to figure out where to go and how to get there Italy's thoughts suddenly shifted. Can I really do this? Should I really do this? What if it is just a dream? Doubt filled every crevice of his mind and an inner war was waged, If I do this I'll definitely lose Germany. He'd hate me, he'd never speak to me again, he might even kill me. That was a terrifying though...being killed at the hands of someone he loved. Yes, he did love Germany, he loved Germany with every inch of his heart, and he didn't want to lose him in any way. If it was just a dream I can still have him. We could still be happy and everything could be okay...but can I take that chance? Is it worth the risk? I...I don't think I can do this anymore...his head started hurting from all the contemplation and worry.

Wait...Italy looked straight ahead at the street he had found himself upon, eyes falling upon broken windows and boarded up buildings. The destroyed community wiped his mind of every thought for a brief moment, and all he could feel was sadness. Tears began to well in his eyes. It was now that one very important thing dawned upon him.

This...this is what war does. His lower lip quivered, recalling scenes smiler to the one before him at his home. This is why I need to do this...it's not just about Germany now.

And it was true...Italy was being invaded and brutally attacked. He assume whatever battle Germany was going to set out on today would be to counter those exact invasions, but no. Italy couldn't take the chance and let Germany out there, not after those dreams; but Italy...Italy would surely die if he went out alone, or maybe even with just his brother. No way. They wouldn't make it.

This is about me, too. They can kill me...they will kill me. I have to surrender. If I don't I'll...A tear slid out from his eye and plopped drearily on the pavement sprinkled with melancholy bits of broken glass and brick. "...I'll die."

There was one more thing Italy had to remember, he was only one part of the country. He'd forgotten that to surrender he needed Romano there, too. Not that that would be much of a problem at all...Romano would definitely agree. Italy could be sure of that. With all the trouble that war was putting the both of them through, it would be nice to just be done with it; but that wasn't even the biggest reason. An armistice would create a colossal rift between Italy and Germany. His brother would absolutely love it, since his hate of Germany was second to none. It would be the easiest decision Romano would ever have to make. Killing two birds with one stone. No more war, no more Germany.

No more Germany...Italy began to feel sick to his stomach as he thought of everything Germany had ever done for him, all the things he loved about the tall blond, everything he'd be giving up. He knew he had to do this, but it would be the most painful thing he'd ever have to do. By far.

"No...no more Germany!" Italy said aloud, firmly. The words were angry with himself for even contemplating non-surrender. His fists clenched and more tears began to roll down his cheeks, it hurt to think of anything.

"Just go...go tell Romano." He commanded himself through mouthfuls of salty water. "Tell him what we're going to do, think of how happy he'll be." He tried, but it just made things worse.

He took a shaky step forward, having no idea where he was going to go. He took another wobbly step, holding himself back from running in the opposite direction and surrendering to his own doubts rather than surrendering to the allies.

"You've made up your mind!" He scolded through sobs, continuing to walk unsteadily down the cracked sidewalk. His eyes trained on no particular spot in the distance. Finding his way home would be a battle unlike any he'd ever fought. It would be a battle against himself. I battle to stay strong and never forget why he was giving up. A battle to find his way on his own. A battle to protect everyone he loved, even himself, but at the high price payed in the love of the one he cherished most.

He could not lose. He could not surrender to himself. He must stay strong for once in his life. Stay strong to stay weak.

By some odd twist of fate, just as twilight licked the forsaken ground of earth Italy found himself on his front steps, looking into his own door, caught between the three options of running away, passing out on the front steps due to physical and mental exhaustion, or turning the knob and doing what he should. Telling his brother what they must do.

How come it was never this hard? He thought, It seemed so simple at first, run and surrender so Germany doesn't die...and I thought I was ready. I thought I could do it. His hand reached tentatively for the knob and shuddered before quickly retracting, Now I don't know anymore! Now I don't know what I know!

He swallowed hard and shook his head, his whole body shaking, I know...I know a few things... He spoke to himself in a shaky whisper, "Germany might die, Romano might die, I will die." He choked on a soft sob, "And I need to do this." But a small part of his mind screamed, would it be so bad if I died? What if I could save them both and just die alone? What if I could just die and Germany would never hate me? He'd remember me as his best friend who messed up and ran away once, but if Germany really cared he could forgive me for that. He doesn't know what I ran away to do, he could have just assumed I went to get pasta...I could just die and he'd think of me as I used to be before these stupid dreams...before this stupid war. I could die a hero and a friend and everything would be okay. He'd move on, they'd all move on. I wouldn't be missed much. What am I good for? If I just died for them I would have done something useful for once. I could do it, can't I? Why not?

He stood still for a second, thinking about what it would feel like to die, would it hurt? What would happen afterward? His Catholicism declares that he'd go to Heaven or Hell, depending on who he was. Where would he end up if he purposely let himself die on the battlefield, Heaven or Hell? It was a kind of suicide, which was a ticket to Hell in his religion; but couldn't he go to Heaven if he did it for the sake of his friends?

His hands trembled and his head hurt with thoughts. His heart grew heavy and sad with all the contemplation of his own demise and how much better it would be for everyone if he died. Italy bit his lip and thought hard.

Don't do it. Do it. Open the door and tell your brother that you're both going to surrender. Just wait 'til tomorrow and go on a suicide mission. Do what's right. Do what's easy. Just open the door. Just open the door. Tell Romano about an armistice. Go to bed. Surrender in the morning. Go to battle. Run and hide before Germany finds out. Get shot. Try and forget about this whole mess. Die.

This was a new battle, and it was a scarier battle. A battle concerning his will to live. A battle between two of his biggest fears. Being hated and dying. Live with the label of traitor or die with the title of hero? The worst part was, by betraying Germany and surrendering he'd be a hero and no one would know how. He would have saved a life or two or maybe even three and no one would know of it. He be a traitor and he'd be hated for it; but he could die. Just die in battle and people would call him a hero for that; and in a way he would be. He might have saved Germany and Romano, though not for sure. He wouldn't be a very good hero though, he would have died selfishly. He would have let himself die just so that he could never live in a world where he was hated.

Italy whimpered and winced at his own thoughts. He'd never thought he would think this hard and this seriously about letting himself die. Finally, though, he came to a decision. He swallowed hard and turned the knob surely, now knowing what had to be done. This was the only thing he could do for everything to work out right. This was the only thing he could do for the sake of everyone else. This was the only thing he could do for himself, but in the most painful way possible.

He pushed on the door and it swung slowly open, revealing the dark interior of his house and a worried looking brother planted upon his couch. I've made up my mind.