Two little boys huddled in an ally way. They had no whre to go. Grandpa Rome just disappeared. Now they were lost without a friend in the world. All they had was each other.

A man walked up to the boys, "Your a descendant from Rome. You must have good genes." He reached over to take the smaller boy when suddenly he felt a pain in his leg. He looked down to that the other boy had picked up a discarded pipe and was now mercilessly beating him with it.

"Let fratello go! He's not yours!"

The young boy had a look of determination on his face but he still was smaller than the man. easily he was kicked away.

Seeing his brother being kicked away, the younger boy bit the man. He jumped out of the firm grasp he was in and helped his brother overthrow the man.

Laying on the floor gasping, the man said, "You really are Rome's kids." With a smile on his face he walked away with a noticeable limp to tell the world of two strong territory's up for grabs. who wouldn't want an addition like that?

The younger boy looked completely satisfied. People now knew who they were and that they were strong. The older child looked terrified.

"Don't you get it Italy?"

"Yes. People know that we are strong and they won't mess with us. right Romano?"

with that being said, Romano hit his brother. "No. Nations are looking for strong provinces to capture. More people will come to take us away!"

"How do we stop it?" Italy realized the problem.

Romano had a thoughtful look on his face. "Well, if people are looking for strong territory's, we just have to become weak."

Italy nodded his head in agreement. If they were weak, no one would want them and then they could be together.

That was a terrible idea. The two definitions of weak were completely different. For Italy, he decided that he would surrender all the time and do anything anyone asked him. Romano decided that he was going to be lazy and not do anything. Because of there decisions, they were never together like they intended. They were always separated and captured by different nations. If only they had learned to never give up without a fight.

I had a dream like this once. Don't hate me or throw rotten tomatoes. Just ripe ones.

I felt I needed to write an explanation. I guess my one shot turned out to be something else. No matter what, this is the end! Feel free to read my other stories. :D) For some reason all my faces are fat.