Hello again, everyone. This is around my 4th fic in a month. That's like... a bunch for me. XD

This story is based off of when Italy left the Axis Powers and joined in the Allies. I've read many stories where Italy was sneaking out on Germany and Germany found him but let him go. I decided this time to have Germany make Italy leave instead of the other way around. This has been an awful plot bunny nipping at my brain recently.

In the last 2 years (I think) of World War II, Italy switched sides from the Axis Powers to the Allied Powers. In current times the two countries are apparently on good terms, but yeah. This is of when Italy had to switch sides. I actually did some research for this fic and I got really depressed looking at all this war info. If it was sad before, it's definitely sad now.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Thanks ahead for reading, and like I always say, making it part of your 'favorite story list' does make me feel better, but I never know what you guys really think unless you tell me. Thanks! It's a bit sad, but Germany and Italy are buddies again now, so it makes everyone happy, right? :D

Italy was lying on his side, gazing out the window to the cool night. The trees were bare due to the cold season. Just looking at the scene outside made Italy shiver as though he could feel the cold.

Even in the warmth of his comforter, Italy was having difficulty falling asleep. All of his nation's problems were causing his body to ache, and he had pains in his head every day. His people no longer wanted to participate in this War anymore; they didn't want Italy to ally with Germany and Japan. When his leader had brought up the notion of leaving Germany and Japan's sides, he had angrily opposed and refused to hear anything more. His leader had stepped down for once. Even though, Italy knew the Axis were losing the war. It was inevitable.

Italy knew it wasn't Germany's fault. His leader was forcing him through everything. The battles, decisions, everything happening in his country- his leader was pushing Germany through it all. Either way, even though it wasn't Germany's choice, the outcome was the same. Italy wanted to just scream for everyone to stop fighting. He was at his wit's end.

Breaking through his thoughts and nearly shocking Italy into screaming, Germany burst into his room with a slam of his door. "G-Germany?" Italy questioned. He received no answer as the man turned to Italy's dresser, pulled open the drawers, and pulled out Italy's clothes. Italy's blood ran cold. Was Germany kicking him out of his house? The man opened Italy's second drawer, taking out his war uniforms. "What are you doing?" Germany got onto his knees to where Italy couldn't see him on the floor. When Italy propped himself up on his elbows, he saw Germany hastily shoving Italy's clothes into a suitcase. "You… you're kicking me out?" He could feel his heart beat in his ears, even when Germany shook his head no.

"Italy, pack the rest of your things and head to the airport. There are already some people there to help you get to where you need to go. My boss is in Russia for business right now, so he won't know you've left until it's too late."

"W-wait, I'm leaving?"

"I've already contacted the Allies. The plane will take you to America where he and England will most likely be waiting for you."

"Germany, slow down!"

"It's cold outside, but if you wear your jacket and hurry you'll make it to the airport in around half an hour. I would drive you there but I need to stay here in case something happens or my boss gets here or he calls or anything. I can't afford to take you there. You'll have to walk on your own."

"Germany, stop!" The man stood up.

"Get out of bed, Italy! We don't have much time!"

"Stop!" Italy was standing, two hands firmly holding Germany in space. "Explain to me what's going on!" He ordered. Germany hesitated, but stood and took a deep breath.

"Italy, we can't stay allies any more. We're losing this war. My boss won't allow me to pull out of it, but if you leave now, you'll be able to avoid it. You can join sides with the Allies. After that you can do what you want- leave them, come back to us, or don't. Anything you want. Just go with them for now, because otherwise things will be much worse."

"I'm not leaving." Germany gave a surprised look to Italy.

"You have to! Or else you-"

"Why isn't Japan leaving?"

"Japan's leader won't let him leave, either. Plus, Japan's much older than the both of us, and wiser. He knows what he can and can't do." Germany explained. "Italy, I know your boss told you to leave. He's right. You have to go. You might… Things won't end well. Please, just go."

"I can't," Italy said.

"Italy, please!" Germany said, turning from Italy with his hands on his head. "You have to go! America and England are already waiting for you. Just please, don't make so much trouble!" Italy came forward and rested his hands on Germany's shoulders again. It was almost as though he could feel Germany's stress just through his action. Everything was wrong. Germany wasn't being his serious, organized, strong self. Instead Italy was the calm one, and Germany looked like he wanted to scream. Italy leaned forward and hugged Germany, wrapping his arms around the man's neck from behind him. He couldn't see the man's expression. Instead he pressed his face between the back of the nation's neck and his shoulder.

"Calm down," He said. "I'm not leaving."

"Italy…" He pleaded. Italy pressed a kiss to Germany's neck. "Why do you insist on staying?" Italy turned Germany's head to the side, meeting the man's gaze. Without hesitation, he leaned forward and kissed the man, gently pressing his lips against Germany's. The man barely responded at first, but ended up turning around and wrapping his arms around Italy's waist. Italy deepened the kiss further before he pulled away. As soon as he did, he felt Germany's face get bright red and his cheeks grow warm. Italy knew he had a hint of blush on his own cheeks, as well. Italy looked up to Germany's eyes as if to say, that's why. Germany pulled back, letting go of Italy, and rubbed his forehead with his hands. "Italy, you… we can't…"

Italy silenced him with another kiss, this one much shorter and as though it was longing for more. When they broke apart again, somehow it was known that Italy was going to leave that night. The kisses they shared seemed to tell each other that they already knew it was time to say goodbye. Germany stood, leaving Italy on the ground as the latter reluctantly folded the rest of his clothes into the suitcase.

When everything was ready, Italy stood at the closed front door. Germany gently held Italy's coat as the man put his arms through the sleeves. He opened the door and Italy, as though more by habit, said, "I love you." Germany didn't answer.

Italy left. He, dragging his suitcase, walked down Germany's driveway and turned to walk down the street towards the airport. As soon Italy stepped upon his driveway, however, Germany closed the door. He didn't want to have to watch the man disappear from his sight.

It was for the best. He constantly told himself. He had to go. He could have been killed if he stayed on our side longer. While everything was true, nothing made the man feel better. His mind kept going back to Italy kissing him, the man telling him he loved him. Germany felt regret for not answering the man; if he did, however, he might have just grabbed Italy and begged him not to leave, even though he had just told Italy he had to. He knew that if he told Italy to stay, the smaller man would. So Germany had to convince the both of them.

But as he stood in his now empty hallway, he couldn't help but wish the smaller man were there with him.

When he turned to look out the window, the cold street was empty.