Hello all. I am terribly, terribly sorry about how long this took to put up. Let's just say college is a time-consuming adventure. That and my creativity decided to take an extended vacation without alerting me beforehand. That being said, I hope this chapter is up to snuff with those of you still bothering to read this massive pile of fail.

Also, some historical notes: During the time of the Italian Wars, northern Italy was a collection of small states with Milan and Venice (and to some extent Florence) acting as the "leaders". Southern Italy, however, was a unified kingdom: the Kingdom of Naples. (Since much of Romano's canon history covers that area, he will be referred to as "Naples" for the duration of this chapter-even by Spain. Another important player existing on the Italian peninsula was the Papal States, which controlled a solid unified strip of land in central Italy, encompassing a micro nation known as San Marino.

*For the purpose of this fic, I have decided to change Gratiano from being Seborga to being San Marino. My original plans did not include San Marino, but as I did more research, I realized it would make more sense for San Marino to be in the fic instead of Seborga. HOWEVER. I will add Seborga in later on.

Throughout the Italian Wars, France was causing considerable trouble for Spain in the Italian Peninsula. At one time France even captured much of southern Italy. However, Spain kicked France's ass out of the Italian peninsula and resumed control of southern Italy.

Disclaimer: ...Christmas is coming up soon. If I owned Hetalia, it wouldn't be on my wish list.

Wars were evil in its truest form.

"Damnit," Naples growled, searching for a place to hide. The enemy troops were coming way too fucking fast!

"Ah! Lovino, there!" the Papal States pointed to a small alley.

Wasting no time, Naples took a firm hold of her hand and dragged her into the alley. The Papal States used the momentum to make sure they both landed in a hidden spot. The redheaded girl watched the shadows of the soldiers parade by, trying desperately to quiet her breathing. It felt like she had been running for hours; they must have criss-crossed the entire city! The clothes they were wearing were ripped and covered in mud and splatters of blood, and their cloaks hadn't fared any better.

"They're gone, Maria. Now, we have to go back!"

"Go back? But why? That half of the city is full of French troops!"

"Because I saw my brothers, damnit! I saw them, and then those fucking soldiers got in the way."

The Papal States' face showed no visible reaction to the Kingdom of Naples' words. He had told her all about his younger brothers, the ones who represented the lands of the north, from his earliest memories of their mother to the fire that ruined everything. So, finding herself with little choice but to help him reunite with his family, Maria stood up and smiled.

"Well, then, if we're going to get to them before the soldiers double back, we need to get going!"

They found Veneziano and Gratiano clinging to each other in the ruins of a building. Veneziano had a small dagger that was already almost completely covered in blood, and he held it in front of him, his hands shaking badly. The boy's eyes were wide open in terror, pure fear radiating from their golden depths. Veneziano didn't put the knife down until he was certain they weren't enemies.

"Who…who are you?"

Naples felt his heart drop into his stomach at the question. His brothers really didn't remember him; he had been kept from them for so long… Maria took his hand and squeezed it encouragingly.

"I'm your older brother; I'm the Kingdom of Naples."

"R…really?" Veneziano brightened considerably at the concept. "You're really our big brother?"

Naples nodded, a soft smile on his face. Finally, after so fucking long, he was finally with his brothers again. It was like some sort of wonderful, beautiful dream. Veneziano gave him a big smile and tackled him to the ground, Gratiano jumping on them as well. Maria leaned against the wall and smiled. She wasn't part of their family; she was an ally at the moment, and that could very easily change given the nature of their world. Tears burned faintly at the back of Maria's eyes, but she blinked them away. It was wonderful to see Naples smile again; he'd already been through so much…

"We're going to get you two out of here, and take you someplace safe. That way those invaders can't capture you."

"Ve…but where would we be safe? They're everywhere…" Veneziano deflated at his own comment, tightening his grip on Naples' shirt.

"Let Naples and I worry about that," Maria said as she walked over to the brothers. They had started to pick themselves up off the ground after their joyful reunion. "You two worry about keeping quiet and staying out of sight, okay?"

It didn't escape her notice that, despite being younger than him, she looked older than Veneziano. While Veneziano had the appearance of a five-year-old, she looked almost as old as Naples, appearing to be about six or seven. Was that because his lands were so divided while she and Naples had unified territories?

"Ah, there you are! Come to Big Brother France."

Veneziano and Gratiano screamed, hiding behind Naples for protection from the fair-haired man who had just discovered their hiding place. Naples took a battle-ready stance and Maria gripped the handle of her sword. There was no way in hell they were going to let the Frenchman anywhere near the younger boys.

"Oi, bastardo! Stay the hell away from my little brothers!"

France smiled, predatory and cunning. It made Maria's blood chill in her veins. Naples gritted his teeth and tightened his hold on his sword. He remembered his (thankfully brief) time with the French bastard, and wasn't about to let his brothers be put through whatever it was that rapist had in mind.

"Ah, little Naples! It certainly has been awhile, non? Do you want to come back to Big Brother?"

"Hell no! As much as I hate that tomato sucking bastard, Spain, I hate you even more!"

"Why haven't you given up," Maria asked. "You've been thrown out of here several times already, and you're obviously no match for Spain. Why do you insist on causing more problems?"

"The child has a point, mi amigo. Why do you keep causing problems for me?"

France froze, feeling the tip of the axe pointed at his back. The Italian children crowded even closer together, Naples and Maria trying to shield the younger boys from Spain's sight.

"For shame, France. Attacking the Italies is one thing, but to corner the Papal States? He is worth more than you are."

Maria bit her lip to keep from commenting. She knew that it would be a good thing in the long-run if the nations accepted her as a boy now. Knowing Spain, he would think she had merely disguised herself as a little girl in an effort to hide from France.

"Ah! Cette petite fille is the Papal States?"

France gave her a smile, almost predatory than kind, and executed and over-exaggerated bow. "Forgive me. I am afraid Big Brother did not recognize you."

"France," Spain chirped, tense warning lacing the otherwise cheerful voice. "I'm not in a very good mood right now, mi amigo. You should probably leave before I decide to kill you."

"In front of the papacy?" France displayed mock shock. "And here I was thinking you were a good Catholic."

Spain narrowed his eyes, the dark green glinting far more dangerously than Naples had ever managed. Maria suppressed a shudder; looks like that had been on the faces of the nations who fought the Crusades. She hated murder and violence, even if it was in the name of the Lord. Though…the Lord had made it a commandment that one should never murder… A small hand took hold of hers and squeezed. Maria looked down to see Veneziano's golden eyes staring at her. Maria gave him a smile, wishing she could shield the two children from the two older nations battling to dominate him.

"Maria, look out!"

When Naples woke up, it was to a room he was growing far too familiar with.

"Buenos dias," an all-too-familiar voice chirped. "How are you feeling, Lovinito?"

The surly Italian boy shot the sunny nation the darkest glare he could muster. His entire body ached, and he didn't need to look to confirm the presence of carefully wrapped bandages around his torso and right shoulder. Naples tried to remember what had happened before he blacked out, but nothing came to mind save for a sharp scream and the stabbing phantom pains.

"What happened, bastard? Are my brothers and Maria okay?"

Spain paused, the freshly wrung washcloth in his hands.

"They're fine. Well, I'm assuming they're fine. After you got between the Papal States and France's sword, I…dealt with France—" Naples involuntarily shuddered when the true meaning of Spain's version of 'dealt with' clicked in his mind. "—and Austria showed up. Opportunistic artistocrat…"

"What? What did that bastard do?"

"He took Veneziano with him, but the Papal States and that other little boy got away. You really scared me with the amount of blood you lost, Lovi. There were times when I thought you'd end up bleeding to death."

By now, Naples had buried his face in his pillow. It probably would have been kinder to have bled to death. He had failed to protect his little brothers, and it was only a small comfort that Maria had managed to escape with Gratiano. He trusted her, as much as one could trust another of their kind. Maria wasn't her Pope, wanting to cling to the more peaceful aspects of her religion than the war-mongering her current Pope seemed so fond of. She would look after Gratiano, but who would look after Veneziano?

"Lovi, you're really quiet. Is something bothering you?"

"Just go away bastard. I don't want to fucking deal with you."

"Lovi—"

"I fucking said leave!" Naples shouted, hurling his pillow at Spain. A dark wish that the pillow was a knife crossed his mind, and Naples forced himself to pretend he wasn't horrified by it.

"Lovino, your wounds are—"

Whatever his wounds were doing, Naples didn't quite know. He never heard the end of Spain's sentence, as a sharp, searing pain ripped through him and he succumbed to numbing darkness.

"God has certainly blessed us with your safe return, my son."

Maria nodded, feeling numb to the world around her. A small breeze played with her bare neck, as she had already cut her hair to a more masculine length. Gratiano clung to her side, faint whimpers still escaping from his throat in the aftermath of a rather impressive lecture Maria had received from one of the cardinals upon her return. Now her boss was welcoming her back, thanking God that she was unharmed.

"Now, tell me of all you have been through," the Pope prompted. "Who is this little boy who clings to you? Speak, young Luke. I am interested in your tale."

Maria took a deep breath and nodded. She couldn't be Maria anymore, because the Pope didn't want Maria. He wanted Luke, the personification of the Papal States. So Maria would give him Luke, and as she gently petted Gratiano's hair, she replaced Maria with Luke.

After all, that was what her Boss wanted, and wasn't a nation's job to please his boss and people?

...I apologize for the fail. I hope that I didn't make France and Spain too OOC, but this was my first time actually writing them. To be honest, it's...odd writing two canon idiots as the badasses they were during this time period. Seriously, these two had some pretty awesome forces going on during the Italian Wars.