Italy woke up wrapped in Germany's arms. He was facing the window while his other half held him from behind. He smiled. Everything was perfect, the outside world was perfect, sunny and breezy. Being in Germany's arms was perfect, warm and safe. He closed his eyes and snuggled closer.

"You're awake, si?"

"Ja, I'm awake. I was just waiting for you."

"I'm glad you did wait. It's nice waking up with you with me for once. And it's nice that you're not yelling at me and bugging me to do something."

"Italy, it's important that you do those things. I'd only ask you to wake up if it really means-" Italy turned his head to silence the other man with a kiss. Germany was used to this and just let it happen.

"Hey Germany."

"Hm?"

"I feel kind of sticky and gross from last night."

"Well then, perhaps you should take a shower."

"Can we both take a shower?" Germany smiled, kissing Italy's neck and getting out of the bed.

"I don't see a problem with that." Italy cheered as he rolled from the bed and put his feet on the hardwood floor. As he stood, a pain shot through his backside and he fell to his knees.

"Ow!" He cried. Germany spun around, quickly moving over to retrieve the man from the ground. He felt a pang of guilt shoot through him.

"Oh Gott. Italy, I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you."

"It's okay Germany. It's just kind of hurts to stand. You were very gentle last night. I think it's just because I was a virgin. Can you carry me to the shower?"

"Sure." He swept Italy into his arms and carried him into the bathroom. He was about to start a shower, but ran a warm bath instead. It would be better that Italy didn't have to stand in the shower.

He stripped off his own clothes and tossed them into the hamper, picking up Italy's that were unceremoniously thrown to the ground and tossed them in too.

He swooped Italy into his arms, climbing into the bathtub with his partner. Italy sighed happily as the warm water soothed his skin.

"How does it feel?"

"It feels really good."

"Good, the last thing I want is for you to be hurt." Italy laid his head to rest on the Germans broad chest while he squirted some soap on a luffa. He lifted the Italian arms, washing away all the sweat and stickiness from last night. Italy purred contently as he did.

"Mmm, that feels really nice." Germany was trying hard not to get aroused, but managed to keep it together by focusing on washing him. Italy was sore, and he wasn't going to take him like that.

"I know you won't have a problem with this, but I think you should spend the day in bed. Or at least limit your movements throughout the house." Italy looked up at him.

"Really?"

"Ja, really. I want you to heal. Now, lift your head so that I may wash your hair." Italy did so, allowing Germany to gently massage the shampoo into the messy auburn hair. Italy loved how gentle Germany was to him. Sure, there were times when he was harsh and made him do things, like training, but for the most part Germany was always careful with him. It made him feel special.

When they were both done cleaning, Germany picked Italy up and out of the bathtub, drying the two of them with fluffy towels. He carried Italy to the bed, giving him a pair of boxers to put on while he put on his own clothes. Italy watched Germany grabb their discarded clothes from last night, putting them into the hamper and then going to wash them. Before he left the room he announced,

"I'm going to have to wash the sheets too. I'll be up in a little bit to change them." Italy tilted his head, calling out after him before he left the room.

"Germany, I'm kind of hungry." The man smiled.

"I'll make you some breakfast then."

They were both so happy. Everything seemed to be falling together perfectly. When Germany arrived upstairs with the food Italy practically jumped out of the bed before Germany scolded him on lying still. He laid down besides him, eating breakfast in bed. He put his arm around the man, watching him quickly eat his food. Normally, Germany would never allow breakfast in bed, but he figured the sheets were going to be washed anyway.

"Hey Germany?"

"Hmm?"

"Where did you learn to do all of that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You were really good and really gentle. Honestly, my behind is only a little bit sore. In a couple of hours I should feel a bit better. Where did you learn?" Germany blushed, looking away from the questioning Italian and fiddling around with his fingers.

"I . . . um . . . did some research."

"Well, that would be the first time it worked." Germany thought back to the incident on Valentines day, blushing even more. Italy merely laughed and leaned into the embrace Germany had on him.

Later on that day Italy did begin to feel better. When he did walk he still had a slight limp to him, but it wasn't much he couldn't handle. He figured by dinner time he would feel good enough to walk normally. Germany still wanted him to lay in bed, but Italy moved downstairs to the couch earning a small lecture from his boyfriend.

Italy sat on the couch eating gelato, watching Italian game shows, and even playing with Pookie for a little while. Whilst he was sitting on the couch his phone vibrated in the pants he had put on before climbing downstairs. He looked at the I.D., seeing Romano's name and his heart dropping.

Oh no, he said he would be angry if Germany and I made love. Does he know? How does he know? It's okay, just play it cool.

"Ciao, this it Italy. But I guess you would already know that if you were the one calling me. Hehe."

"Veneziano, shut up a minute." Romano's voice sounded strained, and his tone didn't have the usual demeanor to it that it normally had.

"Romano? What's wrong?" He asked sitting up carefully.

"I'm, I'm coming to see you in Berlin." Italy was shocked. He never thought he'd see the day where Romano willingly came to Berlin,

"Why? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not. I just . . . I-I need to be with someone." He choked out the words, grimacing as he said them. Romano didn't like to look to people for help, especially his more likable brother. He and Italy didn't have the best relationship as far as siblings goes, but he knew that Veneziano cared about him. He also knew that he wouldn't mock Romano for wanting comfort, despite the amount of time he's tried to convince others that he didn't need it.

"Alright. When will you be coming?"

"I've been driving for a while. I'll be there in ten hours."

"What? But Romano-"

"Veneziano please!" He sighed, sounding frustrated.

"Alright. I'll tell Germany." Romano made a disgusted sound.

"Fine. I'll see you then."

"I'll see you. Ciao."

"Ciao." Italy hung up. He felt concerned for his brother. He felt kind of sad for him. Romano never came for a visit. He never willingly admitted that he needed others for anything. "Germany!" Italy called. The man came walking in, looking at the smaller man in concern.

"What's wrong? What is it?"

"Um . . . it's Romano." He looked up at him. "He's coming for a visit." Germany could feel his face flush. It wasn't that he was scared of the elder Italian, not even in the slightest. But he did want to be at least somewhat friendly with him. And he most certainly did not want the threats from him either.

"Why is he coming here? When is he coming?"

"He'll be here in a couple of hours."

"Did you tell him? About us, I mean?"

"No! I think he's just a little more heartbroken over Spain."

"Alright then. Right. I'm just going to clean up a little more and . . . um . . . hide some stuff." Italy smiled, loving how flustered Germany got.

After a couple of hours and much later on in the evening Italy got another call from Romano. This time worst than the last.

"Veneziano?" Romano sounded worse than last time. It sounded like he hadn't had anything to drink in over a day. He sounded disoriented and more strained than ever.

"Romano? Where are you? What's wrong?"

"I . . . I n-need you to . . . to come a-and get me." It sounded like he was crying.

"Romano? What happened?!" Italy was panicked now. Germany, who was sitting next to him, put his hand on his shoulder. Italy grabbed it.

"I've . . . gotten myself into a little . . . accident."

"Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine. Can you just come get me? I'm in Frankfurt surrounded by a bunch of Germans."

"We'll be there soon. Just wait there and we'll call you when we get in Frankfurt. Alright. Ciao." Germany looked at him as he got up, walking slowly towards the door.

"We're going to Frankfurt?"

"Si, Romano's gotten himself in an accident."

"Is he okay?" Germany asked, also getting up and grabbing the car keys hurriedly.

"He says he is, but I'm worried. We have to get to him."

"We will. I'll drive as fast as I can." They rushed out the door and into Germany's car. It was about a four hour drive to Frankfurt. Hopefully they would be able to get there soon. Germany grabbed Italy's trembling hands in the car, kissing it and holding it as they sped down the highway.

"He's going to be okay."

They found Romano's car on the side of the road. There wasn't too much damage, but they could certainly see why he called. Romano looked like hell. His eyes were red, his hair messed, and he had this dead look on his face. All of the liveliness and spunk Romano had was gone. He didn't even make any snarky remarks at Germany. Nor did he shy away from him when he helped him out of the car.

They walked him over to Germany's car, but as he neared it he dug his feet into the ground, fighting against the movements towards the vehicle.

"Wait, my guitar. I want my guitar." Italy rushed back to Romano's car, opening it and grabbing the guitar that laid in the front seat. He put it besides Romano in the backseat. He laid his hand over it.

As they drove back, Romano didn't do anything, he didn't say anything, he just looked out the window.

And when they did arrive at Germany's house Romano still said nothing. He didn't ridicule the house, or Berlin, or even Germany. He didn't look around much, either. They led him to one of the guest rooms upstairs. Italy gave him a fresh pair of his own clothes, which fit Romano perfectly.

"Alright, I'm gonna go. If you want anything just ask and I'll make you some pasta." Italy said rather seriously. Romano didn't look at him, but still responded.

"T-thank you."

"Che?" Romano gritted his teeth, whispering,

"I'm not fucking repeating it, just take the damn compliment."

"Okay. Bouna notte."

"Yeah." Italy walked out of the room, closing the door in front of him. Germany was behind him, whom he hugged tightly.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

"Yeah, I'm tired." Germany kissed him on the forehead and put his arm around Italy's shoulders. Italy wrapped his around Germany's waist and they walked to their shared room.

"How are you feeling?"

"A lot better." Italy said with a suggestive smile. Germany smiled back.

"Tomorrow. I'm tired and I know you are too."

"Yeah. Tomorrow."