Romano locked eyes with his little brother. The younger Italy had definitely been crying, judging by the puffy red eyes and tear tracks down his cheeks. His hair was disheveled and his face hollow and tired. Something had obviously happened to him, or was going to happen to him.

Shit...how am I supposed to break the news to him? He's obviously already fucked up. I'll just make things worse...maybe it could wait 'til morning? Romano thought to himself.

"What's wrong? You've been gone all day." There were a few things he was refraining from saying at that moment: 'Are you okay?' 'I was worried sick.' 'Sorry about freaking out and locking myself in my room last night.' And the final thing was some big news he hadn't quite decided on revealing yet.

Italy sniffled and hesitated before answering, as if he had a lot on his mind. His mouth opened and a small noise came from his throat, as if he was going to say something but thought better of it.

"Nothing's wrong...I was just..." His voice trailed off. Romano could see that he was hiding something.

"Why don't you ever tell me what's wrong? Stop lying to me and tell me what happened!" Romano was getting mad at his little brother, He really needs to start telling me things, dammit. Does he tell that damn potato bastard about this kind of crap? His face began to flush red with jealousy and anger at the thought.

The northern half of the country shook his head and spoke quickly, "No, nothing's wrong! I'm fine, nothing happened!"

He's such a liar..."Tell me now, Veneziano!"

Italy bit his lip, as if trying to decide if he should say or not, finally he spoke. "I'm just a little worried about a battle tomorrow..."

That's not all of it, he's hiding something big from me, I can tell. "And?"

"N-nothing, that's all."

Romano drummed his fingers frustratedly on the side table next to the couch. When he spoke it was soft, trying to maybe take a nice approach. Maybe his brother would tell him what happened if he was nicer..."Please tell me the truth. I just want to help you out, here."

Another long silence. Finally the little brother spoke, "I just...I don't want to talk about it...or anything. I want to go to bed."

Romano looked up at the weary amber eyes and sighed, what was he supposed to do? I'll just ask him in the morning, let him sleep it off. Then I'll be able to tell him the big news...not like telling him tonight would have much effect anyway.

"Okay...just go to bed." He said, looking down at the ground in thought, "But...don't worry of that battle tomorrow...I've got it taken care of."

Italy looked at him questioningly, "Wait, what? How?"

"Just...don't worry about it right now, okay? Get some rest." Get some sleep and feel better. It only gets worse from here...

"But no, I need to go to that battle. You have no idea...it's really important." Words flowed from the smaller nation's mouth like waterfalls of confused pleads.

That's out of character...what's wrong with him? "Wait, why? I thought you'd be happy about that!"

"No, I really need to go...okay?"

Romano shook his head, "What happened to you?"

Italy's face went from all out worry to confusion, "What do you mean?"

"You're...different. You're so..." His voice trailed off trying to find the right word, only one came to mind, "Sad."

"I'm the same as I always am."

"No you're not..."

"I'm fine, really. Same old Veneziano I always was!"

Romano shook his head, "Lately...you've been changing."

Italy's face fell further, "I'm sorry, I didn't know I was being so...different."

"No, don't be sorry. Just tell me why you're becoming less...you."

Italy shrugged, "I'm not...I don't...know."

"Okay, just...just go to bed." Let it go, just let it go for now. He urged himself.

"But what about the battle?" Italy asked, still hoping to go.

Romano shook his head dismissively, "We'll talk about it in the morning, okay? We have a lot to talk about then..."

Italy looked worried, but didn't question his older brother. He walked out of the living room, leaving Romano alone in the dim, silent room.

What the Hell is wrong with him? Is someone hurting him? He was covered in scratches...but he could have just tripped on something and cut up his face. I could easily see it. Dammit...he's just so...off lately. Wrong. Not happy. Depressed. Beat up. As if he was a walking lost cause. Actually, at this point he probably is. We both are.