He ran out of ammo and dropped the machine gun. He ducked behind a wall as soldiers rushed in upon him, he whipped out his hand gun, a little Colt 45, him and this gun had been through a lot together, and gotten out of more trouble than England had ever gotten into. The thought made America smile, he whipped around the corner and fired on the soldiers while pushing farther into German territory. A bullet whizzed past his ear as another caught his arm.

"Ah! Damn it." He turned the corner around a building, black from the war; leaning against its smudged exterior. He checked his wound; Through-and-through. Well, that's relieving. Even though a thousand human bullets couldn't kill him, when a bullet got stuck it was a huge pain in the ass. America raked his sky-blue eyes over the war-torn square he'd ran into. A little girl sat in the middle of the blackened grass of the center of the square near a huge oak tree, crying. He thought for a moment, looked around, and then ran to her.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. Sprechen Sie English?" He said as he tried to comfort her. What was a little girl doing in the middle of a battlefield?

"Ja…Yes, I do. My papa…" she swallowed roughly, "He taught me before…this…" She started to cy again.

"Hey, it's gonna be fine. What's your papa's name?"

"It does not matter now, does it? He is dead." She said, staring at America flatly. America was taken aback. It was hard to think of the Germans as having little girls at home; little girls who would run into the middle of a war zone to come after them. America saw why the girl had been crying; the body of a German soldier lay at the foot of the blackened oak that must've been the major nature attraction for this city square.

"C'mon, you can't stay here." America tried to help her up but she snatched her hand away.

"No!" America knew he could just pick her up and go, but for some strange reason, he wanted her trust.

"It's dangerous for you here."

"What do you care? It is dangerous for you, too. Is it not?" That struck America, why did he care? She was German, after all. Why shouldn't he just leave her here; The Germans wouldn't kill one of their own, would they?

"Because this fight isn't yours."

"Your kind killed my father! How is it not my fight?!" America shook his head.

"You're a kid, I'm sorry your dad died, but this war isn't my fault or your fault. I know its not fair, but there's nothing you accomplish dead, okay?" She sniffed, America looked around, it had to be like 30 degrees outside and this little girl was still in her school clothes, a skirt and dress shirt with no coat. America unbuttoned his jacket and draped it over her.

"Vhat? Vhy would yo—?" America cut her off.

"You'll freeze out here, let me take you home. C'mon." She sniffed and nodded at his words, pulling the bomber jacket around herself.

"Okay." She replied quietly. America picked her up, she laid her head on his shoulder with her knees up against her chest, pressed into his so that the jacket covered everything except from her nose up. He looked around for a safe way out and took the alleyway nearest to him. He knew instinctively where Germany was and ran towards his location

"Alfred! Wot the 'ell are you doing?!" Arthur's voice crackled over the radio.

"Something I need to do." He replied. "Over and out." The girl fell asleep, obviously tired from crying.

England put down his radio and looked at France.

"What did 'e say, Mon cher?"

"He said he had something he had to do. And he's heading towards Ludwig." France looked concerned; he didn't want England to get out of bed. England was in the medic's tent because of the bombings that were happening; Huge gashes covered most of England's body, and he was in no shape to run out after America.

"Wot do we do?"

"Notzing." England looked at him disbelievingly.

"Wot?!" England tried to sit up but France pushed him back down; England struggling, of course.

" 'E is a big boy now, if 'e needs 'elp, 'e will ask for it, Cherie. You need to rest." England stopped trying to fight and sighed.

"I guess you're right." France opened England's shirt and started to change his wound dressings. France was concerned with what he saw; the wounds weren't healing well. With daily bombings, England was only getting worse; he'd fought out with his troops, hiding the wounds until he'd literally dropped. France had been furious, but there was no way to move him until next week, and the rough military medic's tent wasn't enough.

"Oh, mon cher, please be okay."

America was wary as he entered the calm battlefield Germany had taken earlier. The little dark-haired girl was sleeping peacefully on his chest as every muscle in America's body was taut, tense at the thought of being caught unaware. America realized he hadn't thought this far into getting the girl into a safe environment i.e. with Germany; He didn't actually think he'd get this far, sneaking into a courtyard Germany had control over and was currently occupying. America wished he'd honed his skill to pinpoint the exact location of other countries.

"Hallo, America." The cold voice of Germany sounded in front of America.

"I'm not here to fight." Germany was obscured from view by a stack of boxes, he leisurely walked around it and then leaned on it, smoking nonchalantly.

"Really, Vhat's under jour jacket?" He said, pointing to it and extinguishing his cigarette.

"That's why I'm here." He pulled the jacket down to reveal the little girl's head.

"Vhat?! Jou brought a chilt into a var zone?!"

"No! I found her in the war zone, grieving the loss of her father. A German soldier." Germany's eyes, for the first time since the beginning of the war, lightened from the dark blue they'd turned when he heard this.

"She ran into a var zone to mourn her father…"

"All I'm doing here is bringing her to you, so she can be safe. I swear, no tricks." America gently woke the little girl up.

"Was? Oh, it is you. Where are we?" She caught sight of Germany. "Who is he?" She whispered, clutching America's shirt.

"This is…His name is Ludwig, He's Germany. You'll be safe with him." Germany felt a sense of inadequacy as the child turned her bright-eyed stare on him. The young eyes were filled with loss and grief and hope that this was finally the end of her suffering. He held out shaking arms to receive the girl; America gently placed her in Germany's waiting arms.

"So jour name is Ludwig?" Germany smiled at the question.

"Ja, it is. Vhat's jour name?"

"Ravënjuay; My papa calls…Called me songbird for short." That reminded Germany of his brother, Prussia.

"Jou vill be safe here, Ravënjuay, I promise." She rested her head on Germany's chest.

"I'm going to go…" America said, she popped her head up.

"Do jou have to?" America nodded and as he opened his mouth to speak, a gunshot rang across the courtyard; Ravënjuay didn't even have time to scream. Germany fell to his knees as she slumped over in his arms. America sank down in front of him, clutching her limp shoulders. A drop of blood ran down her temple and down the side of her face, again and again, there was something wrong; she had a hole in her head. Her beautiful golden-brown eyes dulled and closed for the last time. America shook her slightly, she didn't respond in his jacket, his jacket now covered in her blood. Italy walked over, smoking gun in his hands.

"Italy…why would you—?!" America was cut off by Italy.

"Jew. We started this war this way, I can't have you getting soft, Germany." He said coldly, his brown eyes icy. Germany pushed away from America and beautiful, lifeless Ravënjuay and confronted Italy.

"Her father vas a German soldier, nod a Jew!" He screamed.

"She is just another human, don't forget our mission. You, Ally, get out of here before I shoot you, too." America picked up his bomber jacket with a dark rage boiling in his eyes.

"No matter where you go, no matter where you are, no matter how far you run, You will pay for this Italy. I swear, You. Will. Pay." America was gone after that, Germany buried little Ravënjuay and her father with the highest honors and wouldn't speak to Italy at all. He's always great faith and strength behind their Cause, but today? He'd never felt more in doubt.

Author's note: Okay so...REALLY sad chapter..sorry for being gone so long and there will be more soon!

Language notes:

Sprechen Sie English?- Do you speak English?

Mon cher/ Cherie - My dear/ Lover

Ja- Yes

Hallo- Hello

Was?- What?