Romano looked at the hollow shell of a man that once was his little brother sitting bleakly at the table, his eyes fixated on the wood grain. Veneziano looked even worse off than the night before. His hair had gotten even wilder, his eyes even duller, and large black bags had now appeared below them, as if he'd had the worst sleep of his life. The kind where it just made you more tired to have a taste of rest. He knew the younger Italy had had a rough night, Romano had been kept up for all of it by his younger brother's crying, even though it stopped at around midnight. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to say what he was going to tell his brother last night, now wishing he'd done it then, for Italy was obviously in an even worse state, now.

"So...I've been thinking." Romano started, worried when his brother didn't so much as blink in response, far to broken at this point to care, "I've been thinking about...surrendering..."

His brother, again, didn't respond, only worrying Romano more.

He continued to speak, "You know, this war is going pretty bad for us right now...if we don't do something soon...well, I think you know what's going to happen."

"Yeah." Italy said weakly.

"So...you're okay with this?"

No response.

"Veneziano, please answer me. Are you okay with this or not?"

Still no answer, Romano didn't notice to pool of tears forming on the table.

"COME ON, DAMMIT! WE'RE GOING TO FUCKING DIE, HERE!" Romano shouted, fed up with being ignored. He quickly regretted it after a long silence fell over the kitchen.

Suddenly his brother stood, screaming his head off, "I KNOW WE'RE GOING TO DIE! DO YOU THINK I'M THAT DUMB? I KNOW I'M STUPID, YOU TELL ME EVERY FUCKING DAY THAT I'M STUPID, BUT YOU SHOULD KNOW BY NOW THAT SOMETIMES I'M JUST IGNORING THINGS SO STUFF LIKE THIS DOESN'T HAPPEN! SO I DON'T GO CRAZY! BUT IT'S TOO FUCKING LATE NOW, I'M DONE WITH THIS! I'M FUCKING DONE! YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, YOU CAN'T TELL ME ANYTHING! I'M GOING TO FIGHT, DAMMIT, AND I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO ME OUT THERE!" His hands clenched around a salt shaker and he flung it at the wall directly behind Romano. If the older Italian didn't know his brother any better he would have thought that Veneziano was aiming for him. "GOOD LUCK SURRENDERING BY YOURSELF, AND GOOD LUCK TAKING OVER MY HALF OF THE COUNTRY WHEN I'M DEAD!" And with that, he stormed out of the room, leaving a stunned older brother in his wake.

What the Hell? He's totally snapped! He finally fucking lost it! Shit, I need to go after him before he does something stupid. Shit shit shit shit shit! Romano bolted out of the kitchen, and to his dismay, saw that the front door was wide open. Romano ran out and looked wildly around, not sure which way the northern half of the country would have gone, Fuck, he's going to get himself killed!

Romano saw the faint imprint of a bare foot in the overgrown grass to his right. He started with that direction, hoping for anymore signs of his runaway brother.

Fucking idiot! What the hell is wrong with him, does he love that goddamned potato bastard that fucking much? I swear to God if my brother dies over this I'm going to plug that mother fucking German with so much lead I'll be able to use him as a big ass pencil. I will, too. Fuck if I was kidding about killing the bastard before, but now? Now I'm gonna do it. I'm going to kill that mother fucking, potato eating, brother killing—His thoughts were interrupted as he tripped over something laying directly in his path. It had auburn hair and was sobbing loudly into a clump of grass, "Oh shit, Veneziano?"

His brother didn't look up at he spoke through tears, grass, and mud. "...I can't d-do it...I c-can't do anything!"

"What can't you do?" Romano asked, letting the concern he had for his brother leak into his tone.

"I-I can't l-let myself d-d-die...but I c-can't surrender e-either...I c-can't do anything! I don't know...w-what...or h-how...I-I don't know..."

The older Italian pulled his brother's face gently out of the grass and brought his into a hug, rubbing his back in a way that he hoped was soothing. Hell if Romano knew, last time he tried comforting anyone was...well, it had never happened before.

"I'm s-sorry." His younger brother continued, "I'm sorry...I'm so so sorry."

"Stop apologizing, dammit!" Romano said, maybe a little too harshly, judging by how quickly it caused his little brother to shut up.

"...Sorry." Italy whispered weakly, one more time.

"Listen." Romano said, roughly pulling his brother's head off his shoulder and looking him in the bleary, blood shot eyes, "Everything's going to be alright, okay? We're going to go surrender, and that potato-" He caught himself, " I mean...Germany will understand." No he won't, he's just a bastard that does shit like this to my little brother, "Okay? For God's sake, we're dying! We need to do this or we'll die." Italy didn't speak, rather he looked down at his hands, fidgeting idly between blades of grass. "Veneziano?" Romano asked, now knowing that whenever his brother was silent, it was a very, very bad thing.

"...What if..." He stopped himself, considering what he was about to say, "What if I want to die?"

Romano looked at him, eyes wide in shock. "No...Veneziano don't say shit like that!"

The younger Italian looked up, tears shimmering in his eyes, "But it's true! What am I good for? What do I have to live for if Germany hates me?"

"...Me?" The southern half of the country tried to hide the hurt in his voice, probably failing.

Italy looked down avoiding eye contact, "You're my brother...and I love you...but I...I think I love Germany in a different way..."

"Oh God." Romano said, burying his face in his hands, trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes, "Veneziano...oh God. What the Hell? Oh God, what the Hell can I say?"

"Are you crying?"

Romano shook his head, still hiding his face with his hands, "No, no. Just...oh fuck, Veneziano. You can't kill yourself over this...don't you even think about killing yourself over that bastard. Fuck...fucking fuck."

"...I'm sorry."

"STOP SAYING THAT! STOP BEING SORRY!" He pulled his head out of his hands to reveal a face stained with tears and rage, "YOU NEED TO FUCKING MAN UP AND STOP APOLOGIZING ALL THE GOD DAMN TIME! DO SOMETHING FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, DAMMIT! STOP APOLOGIZING, STOP WORRYING ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK OF YOU, AND FOR FUCK'S SAKE STOP PUTTING EVERYONE ELSE BEFORE YOU!" He jabbed a finger into his brother's chest to get the point across. Italy just looked at him with an expression half apologetic, half in agreement.

"Okay." He said in a small voice, stifling more tears.

Romano nodded, "Good. Now come on, we're going to sign that armistice."

"You mean...you already have it ready? The Allies already know and everything?"

"Yeah, all there is to do now is sign it. Then this will all be over." He gave a bitter smile at the thought. His brother, on the other hand, just bore a deepened frown.