Morning

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"Doitsu," Italy muttered. Germany's eyes snapped open. He looked to the window surprised for it to be past dawn if not the rain steadily coming down. The soft patter against the glass confirmed that it was the common light rain after a storm.

"Doitsu," Italy muttered again. Germany turned his attention to his companion and found that at some point during the night Italy changed his grip from the blanket to Germany's shirt. Annoyed with himself for comforting Italy Germany cursed the storm, getting out of bed. He didn't care if it woke Italy or not.

"Germany," Italy asked rubbing his eyes "Is it time for pasta."

"No," Germany picked Italy up by the collar and started towards the front door. "You don't like rain, too bad. You'll learn to run in the rain." Italy whined and protested all the way up to when Germany opened the door. In the rain, hand raised to knock, was a boy who looked a lot like Italy. Germany looked between the two noting that the stranger's hair was darker and he held, in his right hand, a knife.

"Fratello!" Italy cried happily. He kicked his feet in the air and reached for his brother.

"You're Romano?" Germany asked dubious.

"Give me my brother!" Romano demanded grasping for Italy's collar. Germany moved Italy out of Romano's reach and dropped him behind him. Italy not prepared to be let go slipped and landed on his butt, yelping at the rough treatment.

"You," Romano accused lashing out with his right hand. Germany not expecting the sudden attack and forgetting the knife was rewarded with a slash across his abdomen. Germany stepped back and readied himself for another attack; ignoring the blood staining his shirt. Romano lased out again. Germany dodged the blade wary of a trick. Behind him Italy whimpered putting both him and Romano off balance. Germany used this opportunity to pull Italy to his feet and push him further inside.

"Go get Japan." Germany ordered. Italy stumbled away looking back, eyes wide, at Germany and Romano squaring off.

"Japan said Italy was here," Romano stated as he took a swipe "but who are you?"

"Does it matter?" Germany countered gripping Romano's wrist with one hand taking the knife with the other. He didn't like knives, but the hilt would add a nice weight to his punch.

"I think so." Romano, deprived of his weapon, fought with fists. Germany engaged him, less wary, with his own set of blows.

"Germany."

"You're Germany." Romano said dubious. They fought on, constantly searching for an opening. "Italy's written about you."

"Odd, He's said nothing much about you." Germany replied curtly. Romano was beginning to seem as tedious as Italy.

"Does it matter?" Romano asked mimicking Germany. Germany smirked his respect for the older brother increasing.

"Germany, Germany, I got Japan!" Italy cried running up the hall, Japan behind him. "Are you alright?"

"We know he's not fine," Romano snapped at Italy. He abandoned the fight in order to face his brother. "So, why ask the stupid question? It would have been smarter to ask if I was alright."

"Are you?" Japan asked calmly as Italy hid behind Germany. Germany ignored Italy as he held onto the back of his jacket.

"Of course I am." Romano retorted insulted by Japan's concern. "Spain said I could go visit Italy. If Italy's here than I'll stay here." Romano stated turning to Germany who crossed his arms not sure where this was going.

"It's Germany's place." Japan informed Romano still retaining his calm composure.

"May I share Italy's room with him?" Romano asked Germany. Through polite, he said it through his teeth with clear disdain at seeking permission.

"You can use Italy's room, but he hasn't been." Germany permitted. Romano scowled curiously at Italy who shrunk behind Germany before stepping out in front to him. Germany itched to hold Italy back. He looked at the floor instead, hating that Italy's fear was affecting him.

"Fratello," Italy said with a smile. Romano didn't return the smile. He reached out taking Italy's wrist. He roughly turned Italy around looking him over. Italy whimpered and began to protest.

"You're still a wimp!" Romano stated sounding exasperated. "You somehow got an alliance with a soldier like Germany, but you're still a wimp!"

"Sorry Fratello." Italy muttered softly, staring down at his shoes. Romano chose to ignore Italy for the time being. Romano struck up a conversation with Japan as they left to Italy's room.

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Italy followed Germany to the cupboard with the medical supplies, then to the yard. Germany ignored the pouting boy. Though it was near noon the rain continued to drizzle turning the yard into a muddy mess. Germany sat on the half wall separating the hall from the dirt. Italy sat to his right. He watched Germany with big eyes. Germany slipped his jacket off and tossed it over Italy's head. Italy pulled the jacket off and got a face full of shirt. He whimpered and began to complain stopping when he heard Germany hiss. Tears threatening to fall Italy slid the shirt off his head and watched Germany. Germany winced as he spread the ointment on the shallow knife wound.

"Germany," Italy said softly. Germany turned to see what Italy wanted. Italy's lower lip quivered seeing that the new wound was only one of many and that there were small scars that he hadn't seen before also on Germany's arms and back.

"Doitsu," Italy cried softly. He reached out to trace one of Germany's scars, but couldn't. His hand trembled and a sob caught in his throat. Germany done bandaging the cut set the supplies to the side. He put an arm around Italy letting him lean his head on his shoulder.

"It's okay." Germany reassured Italy.

"Grand-grandpa Rome also had-had scars." Italy said between sobs. "He was-wasn't sad, but they looked like they – like they hurt. Sometimes it was like he wasn't there at-at all." Italy stopped trying to talk and just cried.

"They don't hurt, not anymore." Germany told Italy bending his head and whispering it gently.

"Doitsu, you won't go anywhere, will you?" Italy asked still sobbing. Germany didn't reply. He didn't know what to say about that. Before he was constantly trying to get rid of Italy; now he just didn't want to promise him something that he may not be able to keep.