Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Don't worry, though. As soon as I complete my evil diabolical plan to take over the world I will.

None of the other countries knew it, but America and Italy were actually very close friends. Not romantically involved; America had Russia stalking him and England, well…Italy had Germany, too. So no romantic involvement.

It was purely friendship, even camaraderie, which even held out during the world wars when they were pitted against each other.

The friendship had sprung up one day by accident.

America had been in the library in Italy, looking through some old texts, when Italy himself had bounded through the doors and began checking through the same section.

He'd awkwardly cleared his throat; he honestly didn't know Italy that well, but always thought that the kid was a bit off his rocker. Like Russia, only less…well, Russia-ish.

"Oh, veh! Hello America!" Italy chirped in his light voice, skimming a scroll with his delicate olive fingers. "What brings you here?"

America tapped his chin, staring at the almost indecipherable Italian jargon spattered all over the scroll he was currently reading, and sighed. Sure, he was fluent in Italian (He'd done a bit of spying in Italy and had been forced to learn the language) but it wasn't his first language; therefore, the older style that they wrote in might as well have been in Georgian (which was utter gibberish to him). "Well, I'm looking up something that England told me about, but so far I'm not getting much success…"

Italy nodded, brow furrowing in frustration. To be honest, Italy didn't really know America that well; in fact, in the world wars he'd avoided America like he had the black plague. From what he heard, he understood that America was loud and annoying, immature, and there was talk of America even being a slut. However Italy had been taught not to judge on rumors, so he kept his mind open and clear and tried to be as friendly as he could. Which wasn't so hard, actually. "What are you looking for?"

America scratched his golden locks and sighed again. "He mentioned 'Reading the Atmosphere' or something." He turned his hopeful blue eyes on Italy. "Would you know anything?"

Italy's mouth opened wide in surprise. "Wah…That's what I'm looking for too!"

America looked shocked for a second, before he grinned widely and leaned back slightly. "Wow! That's great! How about you help me look?"

Italy smiled back, and nodded his head, his brown-colored curl bouncing with his movement.

"Hey, dude, what's with the curl?"

Italy looked up absently from the book he was reading (an old Celtic text) and blinked. "Ve?"

America, having been around Italy for a few years, easily recognized the grunt as a, "What?" and plunged on. "The brown curl, right there." America leaned in a little and nearly poked the curl, making Italy lean back and blush, muttering something about, "Just friends".

"It's, um…" Italy blushed a little deeper red, gesturing America closer to listen. "It'smyerogenouszone."

America leaned back and blushed a little (though not as much as Italy himself). "Ah, don't be embarrassed." He said softly. "My hair is one two, see?" He flicked the cowlick on his forehead. "This here."

Italy smiled a wide smile, and tilted his head cutely. They had found another thing in common, besides looking for the strange book, "Reading the Atmosphere!"

When Italy showed up in the library that day, America he knew immediately that something was wrong.

The Italian had red eyes, and occasionally he sniffed loudly, sometimes having to turn away so he wouldn't get his streaming nose on the old book. His eyes had deep black rings around them, and he looked much paler than normal.

America eyed him out of the corner of his eye, while Italy turned another page with his hand trembling wildly. Another sniffle, another blink, the page turned again, and finally America could take it no longer. He gently closed the book he was looking at, and slowly got up from his chair, closing the distance between the two of them and stopping in front of the upset Italian. It only took a moment for Italy to notice that America was standing there, and he looked up with teary amber eyes.

"What's wrong, Italy?"

That was all it took for Italy to burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry, it's all my fault, they attacked him, and it's all my fault, they're trying to get at me, I swear, and—"

But America was already out the door.

Months later, troops were sent to Germany to help with the army they were currently losing against. Strangely enough, the action only seemed to make relations with Italy stronger, not Germany himself.

"America?" Italy asked, staring at the American who was currently watching him through glazed, fevered blue eyes.

The eyes slowly traveled to the book in his lap (the page hadn't turned for about an hour) and then back up to Italy, before going to the floor. "'M fine, Italy. Don't worry 'bout me. Keep reading."

The words came out slurred and foggy, which only made Italy worry more.

"America, you're sick! You should be resting!"

For a moment it looked like he was going to argue, but then he closed his mouth as though he were too tired and sighed. "'Lright." America muttered, staggering up from the chair and following Italy (weaving all the while) out the door.

America stayed in bed for the next few months, and Italy insisted on taking care of him. For months Italy would stay by his bedside, force-feeding him delicious soups and taking care of his every need.

"Anything, Ita?" America asked, only to receive a disappointed sigh.

"No, it seems we'll find nothing here."

"Ah, well. I found this lead in Greece, actually, so…"

After a while, it stopped being just 'reading the atmosphere'. After a while, it became something more, like…they were just doing for the sake of the search, for the sake of going everywhere with each other, finding other leads. Eventually, it wasn't about what they were going to find; it was what happened along the way. They people they met, the things they did, the sights they say, all of it. So far, they haven't found 'Reading the Atmosphere'. Actually, they aren't even close.

But they could care less. As long as they have each other.

If they didn't have each other, they would've given up years ago.

I got this idea from Hetaquest, where America and Italy are looking for 'Reading the Atmosphere'. I just think this relationship would be sooooo cute!

Anyway, I'm writing this at 11 o'clock at night, which was probably why I'm acting all fan-girly. Also why I probably have a billion mistakes in here right now. Ignore them, or tell me about them, please.

IceEckos12