Alright! I managed to finish this chapter! 8D

Okay, celebration aside, I hope this is still up to standard. I did quite a bit of research to pull this together, and it only covers the first two wars the Italies fought to gain independence, but still! Thanks once again to the lovely people who take the time to review this; it really makes me happy! And it keeps me motivated!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I'm just playing with the characters because playing Sims got boring.

"I want us to unite."

Naples nearly choked on his tomato. He stared at his younger brother with a mix of shock and disbelief. Venetia looked rather indignant, the look on his face reminding the older boy way too much of Austria. Naples suppressed a shiver at the implications. Was Spain's influence as prevalent in him as Austria's had become in Venetia?

"What?"

"Unite," Venetia said, using a tone of voice not too dissimilar from one a person would use when addressing a young child. "You know, become one country. The two of us, free from our oppressors and able to do things our own way. Can't you just imagine it, fratello? One Italy, the both of us representing it side by side."

"Do you have any idea what you're suggesting? Do you think Austria is just going to let you waltz out of his house without a fight? Or that Spain will be so willing to let me go?"

"Silly fratello, of course I know what I'm suggesting. And I'm not stupid; I know Austria will fight me every step of the way. I'd be surprised if he didn't, with how much money I make him. But I'm tired of being a servant, fratello. I'm tired of being looked down on by everyone else. Don't you feel the same way about Spain?"

That was the thing. No one at Spain's house (of their kind, anyway) really seemed to look down on him. Belgium adored him and treated him like a little brother, which usually meant that the Netherlands did as well. Spain…well, things had finally started to smooth out between them after that horrific night. He didn't flinch when the older man touched him anymore, he could stand to be in the same room as him and not feel uncomfortable about it, and during daylight hours, Spain had returned to being the first person he ran to for comfort.

"Fratello? Am I wrong? You don't feel the same way about Spain?"

"It's…it's difficult to explain, fratellino," Naples muttered, hugging his knees close to his chest.

"Spain's hurt you, hasn't he? I don't know what he did or how he hurt you or anything like that, but I know he hurt you in some way. Why would you want to stay with someone who hurt you?"

It's been nearly two hundred years since he last hurt me, Naples wanted to shout. What he did hurt him almost as much as it hurt me. He couldn't bear to look at me for years. Besides, he really has changed…

An angry pout settled on Venetia's face at Naples's silence. Naples tried to ignore the dark look on his younger brother's normally sweet face. When had the boy become so…twisted? Was it simply a case of Austria's influence over him showing? And why would Venetia want to leave Austria's, anyway? Didn't he have a massive crush on that Holy Rome kid?

"Doesn't Holy Rome live with Austria? You used to write in your letters about how much you wanted to be at Holy Rome's side forever. What changed?"

The anger melted into sorrow, and Venetia slumped. It was like someone had flipped some sort of lever in his brother's personality, sucking all of the life and energy from his petite frame. Concern filled the older boy; it wasn't natural to see his brother displaying such emotions. Venetia had always occupied his memories as a cheerful child with a smile ready for anyone.

"Holy Rome is dead. France and Austria killed him. Prussia and Brandenburg told me."

"Fratellino…"

There was really nothing he could say in response. Naples hadn't been alerted to Holy Rome's passing, and he sent a quick prayer up for the young empire.

"They killed him, and they didn't even have the guts to tell me. Even Miss Hungary wanted to keep the truth from me. I would still be waiting for him if I hadn't run into Prussia and Brandenburg," Venetia explained, gripping his arms. "They thought I knew, that I had been told…it wasn't until after Brandenburg mentioned it that they realized that…that I didn't know…"

The basket dropped to the ground, the vegetables and fruits spilling out onto the cobblestone streets. Brandenburg's expression was a mix of shock and horror as the reality of the situation dawned on her. Prussia didn't look any better, and he frowned.

"They…didn't tell you?"

"T…tell me what?" Venetia could think, couldn't feel. The Holy Roman Empire couldn't be dead. Prussia and Brandenburg were liars, just like Mr. Austria always said!

"Oh, Venetia," Brandenburg's voice was soft and gentle, and it was wrong. So very wrong. Brandenburg was as harsh as her land, barren and bitter and devoid of kindness. "Venetia, I'm so sorry, but Holy Rome died a few weeks ago…France and Austria had him dissolved."

"No! You're…you're lying! You're both lying!"

"Listen, kid, we aren't lying!" Prussia's actions were more familiar, but they still seemed completely alien. "We wouldn't lie about this, especially not to you. You meant more to that kid than anyone."

"He's not dead! He's not! He's alive, and he's coming back! He promised me! He promised!"

Before he knew it, he was in Brandenburg's arms, soaking her shawl with his tears. He clung to her, desperately wishing that everything they had said was a lie. Something, some traitorous part of him, told him that she was right. The Holy Roman Empire was never coming home, and he had broken his promise to Venetia.

Prussia snarled and punched the wall, making sure to temper his strength enough that he wouldn't break anything. If it had hurt him to hear his wife crying over the little boy she had helped raise, it tore him to shreds to hear little Venetia sob into Brandenburg's shoulder. Kids should have no reason to cry; they should be able to smile and laugh and not have to worry about politics and war and dissolution.

"Venetia," Brandenburg said softly, gently running her fingers through the child's auburn hair, "he wouldn't want you to be so upset over him. He'd want you to smile and laugh, because those are his best memories of you. He would want you to keep living, because you can. You're alive, and you shouldn't ever forget that."

"I…I don't know where to go from here," Venetia muttered, sniffling into the soaked fabric of the handmade shawl. "I don't know how to keep living!"

"I can't give you that answer," the woman said with a sad smile. "All I can tell you is that you can't sit still and drown in your sorrow. He wouldn't want that for you.

"And I know you don't want that for yourself."

"That's why we have to become independent. I can't bear to stay in that house anymore! I can't bear to be separated from you anymore!"

Venetia got up from the ground, and Naples couldn't ignore the look in his brother's eyes. There was something almost insane in that look, some spark of something that had his mind screaming at him to run away and stay as far away as possible from the Venetian.

"I don't care when you join me, fratello, but I want you to be on board with this. You can stay with Spain for a little bit longer, but when I come to get you, you are going to leave with me, got it?"

"No need, fratellino," Naples said, getting up. "I'm with you. I just hope you don't end up getting us killed…"

Venetia cried out when his battered body hit the hard ground. He was bleeding and sore, pain dully throbbing from every last inch of his body. His uniform was ripped and dirty, stained beyond salvation from his struggles for freedom. Austria glared at him from the doorway.

"You ungrateful little brat. How dare you try to declare your independence? Haven't I given you food and shelter and protection from your enemies?"

"I'm not a child anymore, Austria," Venetia snapped back. Before he could say anything more, a vicious coughing fit ripped through him. He was weak and hungry, and the cholera was turning his life into a living hell.

"You're sick, and starving. Consider yourself lucky that your leaders had the good sense to surrender before you died. Honestly, Venetia, you're smarter than this. You're a pathetic, cowardly weakling. Forget those silly ideas of being independent; you'll be your own nation when I damn well say so."

With that, Austria slammed the door shut. Venetia curled up into a call in the corner of his cell. Austria wasn't wrong. He was sick and he was starving, and maybe he wasn't the strongest nation in the world. Another coughing fit exploded from his throat, violently shaking his weakened body. Screams of pain filled the spaces between the jagged coughs, until Venetia barely had the strength to breathe. He had been locked up before, punishment for stealing food or not doing his chores, but back then he had had Holy Rome on his side. Even if the food was disgusting, at least it had been food.

He needed an ally, someone he could get relatively close to without arousing Austria's suspicions. That pretty much eliminated Prussia from the list. As strong as the Germanic nation was, and as much as he hated Austria, Venetia had no prayer of contacting him to ask for an alliance. It'd be nothing short of a miracle if he would even be allowed to see his brother again.

I…I messed up…didn't think things through well enough…

Part of Venetia boiled in anger. How hard could a revolution really be? America managed it, didn't he? And he was fighting against the British Empire, not Austria! Even if America had help from Prussia and…France…

France…that's it.

He really didn't want to ally himself with one of the nations responsible for Holy Rome's death, but what choice did he really have? It was decided then; Venetia would have to secure an alliance with France against Austria, and then he could take another whack at revolution.

I have to be careful, though; I can't just rush into this again. I need to bide my time, and I can't directly ally with France…I need someone to go through…maybe I could convince Sardinia to get the wheels moving again?

Sardinia hated her life as a nation; Venetia couldn't remember how many times he had caught her watching families pass by with a gleam of envy in her eyes. More than once she had told him about how much she wanted to be an ordinary human again, how much she wanted to meet a nice man, settle down, and raise a family of her own. Sardinia couldn't do any of that so long as her nation status existed. She had been more than delighted to start the revolution last time, practically giddy with the thought of handing her land over to him and living the life she had always dreamed of.

Yes…Sardinia will do it, Venetia confirmed, she can get away long enough to ally with France and get this started again. Oh, and I'll have to find some way to talk to the other states. It's going to take time, but we can do it. I know we can!

"Are you really so desperate to leave me?"

Naples froze, hardly daring to look over his shoulder, knowing Spain was standing there. He was being sneaky and underhanded, he knew, leaving the Spaniard's home in the middle of the night, but it had to be done. Sardinia had already spoken to him about what was going to happen, and he couldn't say he didn't want it. The idea of a unified Italy, free from outside influence, had grown on him. An entire kingdom with his brothers, all of them together again under one flag and one leader.

"You don't have to sneak away, Lovino, and you don't have to fight me. I won't try to stop you."

Something in Naples's heart stopped at that. It sounded bad, but Naples actually wanted Spain to challenge his leaving. He wanted the older nation to fight to keep him, to move heaven and hell to keep the southern Italian as his lackey. Even if it was only to prove, in some way, that Naples was worth the effort. After all, if even Spain didn't want him anymore, then who's to say his brother still would?

"I don't have the right to force you to stay here."

"Idiot," Naples snapped, feeling his anger swell in response to the ugly feelings of self-loathing rising within him. "You have every right to grab me and lock me in my room. I'm your lackey, aren't I?"

"I can't hurt you, Roma," Spain said, and Naples whirled around at the nickname. Spain had always had something of a hard time calling him Naples, and had started calling him Romano instead.

The young man's heart clenched at the look on the Spaniard's face. Spain had a sad sort of smile on his face as he leaned against the door frame. There was a flicker of something he didn't quite recognize in Spain's eyes, something he couldn't remember seeing before. It seemed familiar in the older man's dark green eyes, and for a moment, Naples flashed back to centuries ago, when he was still a small child and his mother and father were still alive. He had seen that look before; he had seen it in the green depths of his mother's eyes.

…He…he's proud…of me…?

"So you and your brother are going to become one united country, huh?"

Naples pulled himself out of his memories and nodded. "Yeah."

"What are you going to call yourselves? You changed your name for Sicily; will you change it again for Venetia?"

He had changed his name for Sicily. The fiery, hot-tempered girl he had harbored the strongest crush on for years, the one who pretty much beat down his door and demanded he unite with her. So they had pretty much eloped without informing anyone, and had returned to Spain's house with Sicily wearing a smug grin and Naples flustered and embarrassed beyond all words. (Belgium had teased them relentlessly about it; "At least Prussia and Brandenburg gave us all fair warning before they got married. And I wanted to plan your wedding since they wouldn't let me touch theirs!")

"Lovino, what's taking you so long," Sicily hissed, coming out of the shadows, her own bag slung over her shoulder. "Say your goodbyes and let's go! We promised to meet Sardinia at dawn!"

"You aren't even going to say good bye to Belgium," Spain asked, genuinely surprised. Sicily, for her foul temper and complete disdain for anything feminine, had been quite fond of Belgium.

Sicily glared and straightened. "How I conduct my affairs is no longer any of your concern. The only one who has any right to worry about that is my husband, thank you very much."

Naples blushed at the word. Sure, they both were more than old enough to get married, even by the terms of their kind, but still…the idea of being a husband still hadn't quite sunken in. And what would their marriage mean in the new, unified country they were creating? Would it still be recognized? …Would they want it to be?

Spain laughed a bit at her response and nodded.

"Yes, yes, I suppose you're right. Now get going, both of you. I'm sure Sardinia is waiting for you."

Sicily rolled her eyes at the mental image of her sister waiting in the harbor, impatiently pacing the deck of her ship and directing dark curses in the direction of her elder sister. The redhead took Naples hand, both blushing a bit at the contact, and the two head off into the night.

Venetia cried as he collapsed into Naples's arms, all tears and smiles and "finally, finally, finally." Sicily set their bags down and set to work making food, remarking on how thin the northern Italian looked as Naples carried his brother back into the house. It was alarming how ill the younger man looked; how sickly and pale his complexion had become, how cold he felt in comparison. Naples tried to convince himself that it was just because of the rain that Venetia's skin seemed so cold and clammy.

"Veneziano," Sardinia scolded, hurrying over to the brothers. "What in God's name possessed you to go outside in such weather? You're already ill; let's not go trying your luck! His room's back this way; follow me."

Things have changed, her dark brown eyes said. We need to talk.

Naples couldn't do anything but comply, following Sardinia down the hallway with Venetia cradled in his arms like a child. The younger brother clung to him, weakly grasping the rough cloth of his uniform. A series of coughs suddenly ravaged the boy's weakened body, and Naples was struck by the sudden fear that his little brother would die in his arms.

"Set him down on the bed," Sardinia instructed as they entered a room containing only a bed and night table, "and help me get him into some dry clothes."

"How long has he been like this?"

"The illness became obvious after you and Sicily voted for annexation, but I imagine he's been staving off the fever ever since he started this entire campaign. Lift his arms, will you?"

Naples did as she asked, allowing Sardinia to pull the soaked linen over the young man's head and pat him down with a towel. She casted the cloth to the side and slipped a dry, clean shirt onto the other's shivering frame. Sardinia motioned for Naples to ease him down.

"Don't worry, though," Sardinia continued as she worked. "He'll be fine once I transfer my lands to him."

"What?"

"You and Sicily voted to join me, not him. This illness of his is simply a result of that technicality. If we can keep him going for a few more days, all that I am will be under his name and he should begin to recover."

"And if your wager is wrong," Sicily asked, making her presence known as she leaned against the doorframe.

Sardinia sighed and ran a hand through her thick reddish brown hair.

"If I'm wrong, then I offer both my sincerest apologies and my most heartfelt condolences in advance."

"We need Rome. Vatican and San Marino," Venetia said, staring at the map spread out before him. "Then it will all be over. We'll be a country together, fratello."

Naples eyed his younger brother. The young man hadn't improved since Sardinia's attempt to give him her lands. Like Rome, Venetia was not part of the new Kingdom of Italy. A great bit of irony, but Naples found himself a bit relieved that Venetia was still his own entity. It meant he had a bit longer to figure out how to make sure his brother survived the unification.

"You realize we'll also need to bring you into this, right?"

The young redhead straightened and looked up at his older brother. Jade green met golden amber for the briefest of moments before Venetia had to close his eyes, winching faintly in pain. As soon as it disappeared, the look of pain vanished was replaced by a smile.

"I know," he replied. "You and Sicily and the others will have to invade, and beat back Austria."

"We can't do it alone, fratellino," Naples reminded him, frowning a bit. "You have far too much faith in us if you think we can handle Austria without help."

"Ve, I know that. I've already thought of someone who could help us."

"Who?"

"Promise you won't get mad, fratello?"

Naples gave him a strange look. "Why would I get mad?"

"I want you to get help from Prussia."

...Okay, so there was less Prussia in here than I had wanted. HOWEVER. Next chapter is dealing with the Third Italian War for Independence, and that's the one Prussia got really involved in. Which means there's going to be some awkward Prussia and Romano interaction. 8D

Well, I hope this chapter was good. I apologize for the long wait. Happy St. Patrick's Day, and happy Italian Unification Day!

Please read and review!