OMIGOD! I can't believe I did this! You'll note a change in cast. I was so stupid! I confused Switzerland and Sweden! I can't believe I did that! My brain totally just screwed up on me. So here's the edited version enjoy!

The room was dark. The sun had yet to begun rising, but it was the early morning. The clock read 3:32 AM. A body laid in the bed, shrouded by the sheets. He slept. Not soundly, but he slept. His steady breathing signaled that he was at least asleep now. A curl could be seen standing off from the rest of his hair.

The sound of fingers against keys could be heard from the room next door. The blue eyes and pale face were lit up by the light of the monitor. His blonde hair was a mess around his head from his fingers running through it out of frustration. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed beside his Italian lover, hold him close and sleep until his arm went off.

He could not.

First, he could not sleep. His mind would not let him. He was too worried about what was to come later that morning. Second, there were preparations that still needed to be made. He sighed, running his fingers through his blonde hair again.

The floor boards creaking drew him back to reality. He turned around to see Italy, standing in his red boxers, rubbing his eyes and yawing. "Doitsu, will you come to bed? It's lonely in there." He asked, sounding sad and neglected. It clawed at Germany's heart to see his lover look sad.

"In a minute, Italy." He said firmly, his expression softening.

Italy sighed, his eyes burning. "That's what you said an hour ago." He turned away and went back into the bedroom, sniffling. Germany was leaving at ten that morning. Italy wanted to sleep close to him before he left, but the other country had failed to come to bed with him at all. Italy wiped his eyes as tears broke through.

Germany sighed and ruffled his hair angrily. He hated war. His boss was making him fight and he had no choice but to go along with it. He wished with all his heart his boss was more like Italy's: Make love not war.

He wished he had gotten the chance to make love with Italy one last time before he left. He wondered if he would be able to. He had most of the preparations done. He just had to pack. He groaned. He still hadn't packed. He was far behind. He had been too worried about making Italy safe while he stayed home to worry about getting ready for war. Now Italy was sad and he was far behind.

He stood up and dug through the office closet for his duffle bag. A thud made him jump and reach for his holster. His heart pounded as he looked down at the push broom that fell. He sighed, realized his gun wasn't even on him, and picked up the broom. He felt the handle and shook his head. He never understood why he kept it. It looked worn and only collected dust, but for some reason he never had the heart to throw it out. He put it back and found his duffle bag. He grabbed it and went into their bedroom, seeing Italy sitting up, hugging his knees, trembling.

"Italy?" Germany called, amazed to see the other man still sitting up.

Italy froze, but sat up, wiping his eyes. His nose was rosy, as were his eyes; he had been crying. "Oh, Doitsu! A-Are you coming to bed?" He asked, looking hopeful.

Germany swallowed. He didn't have the heart, but he couldn't lie to his lover. "Sorry, I still have to pack." He said, his heart breaking as he watched Italy's face fall. "I will right after, I promise."

Italy didn't seem to believe him. He just shrugged and stood up, going into the bathroom. Germany stared at the door and sighed sadly. He wished he had to nothing more to do than hold Italy and kiss him, but he knew he could not. The toilet flushed and water ran on the other side. Italy opened the door and crawled back into bed, not looking at Germany as he packed his clothes into the bag.

Italy laid still listening to his lover. He finally sat up, staring at him. "Will you ever come back? Will I ever get to see you again?" He asked, trying to hold back his tears. They trickled, escaping his resistance. He hated the idea of losing Germany. He hated the idea of Germany leaving him. He had lost love once; he didn't want to again.

Germany stood up straight and looked at him. He saw the sadness in his lover's eyes. Italy's normally smiling face was contorted with agony and fear. Germany's usually hardened expression weakened and he moved over to the bed, sitting down and holding his arms out for Italy. The country smiled weakly yet threw his arms around the blonde man's neck, hugging tightly. Germany rubbed his back, kissing his ear. "Of course, I will Italy. I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise."

"Y-You better." Italy sniffled, beginning to unravel. He sobbed and hugged his lover as tightly as he could, clawing into his black tank top. "You better."

Austria peered into the open door, hugging onto the worn leather bound journal. The sun had come up a couple hours prior. He caught his target; Germany's bag.

Austria crept into the bedroom and toward the bag. He slipped the old journal into it and zipped it up as quietly as possible. He glanced at the bed and smiled to himself, sadly, but he smiled. Germany had his arms slipped around Italy, holding him close. Italy was curled up into Germany's body, hiding his face in the fabric of Germany's tank top.

The country shook his head. Italy's going to have a rough few weeks.

Austria crept out of the room and shut the door behind him. He silently made his way down the hall. He hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen where his lover sat, waiting for him with tea. "Did you do it?" Switzerland asked, looking up at Austria skeptically.

The dark haired country smiled and nodded. "I did." He said sliding in to sit beside his boyfriend.

Switzerland eyed him, amazement behind his eyes. He sipped his tea with a muttered, "You're still weak." He drank his tea, Austria rolling his eyes. "You're a hopeless romantic." He explained, setting his cup down.

"So are you. I still remember our anniversary." Austria said, sitting up straighter. Switzerland flushed and looked away. Austria glanced at the ring on his left hand as it caught the light. "I love you, Vash." He said quietly, setting his cup down as well.

"Love you, too, Roderich." Switzerland mumbled, still unable to look at the other country with a blush on his face.

Italy felt tears trail down his cheeks. He always thought Germany looked good in his uniform, but now he didn't want to see him wearing it. It meant Germany had to leave. It meant it was time to say goodbye. He sniffled and wiped his eyes as Germany set his duffle bag down before the front door.

Germany stood straight and turned at hearing his lover crying. He pulled Italy into his arms and held him close; an arm wrapped tightly around Italy's waist, his other hand tangling its fingers into Italy's hair. "I'll be home soon. I promise. Wait for me?" He asked in a soft whisper, his lips against Italy's ear.

The smaller nation sniffled, hugging onto Germany tightly. "Yes Germany, I'll wait. I'll wait for forever." Italy's voice cracked as he spoke. He held onto Germany tightly, refusing to let him go. I won't give up hope this time. Like with Holy Roma. I'll wait until the day you return. No matter what. "Please, come back."

Germany cupped Italy's face, a tear straying from his blue eyes as he kissed his lover passionately. He tried to push as much love as he could into the one kiss. "I will, Italy. I love you."

Italy smiled weakly, wiping his eyes. "I love you, too, Doitsu."

Germany held Italy and gave him a lingering kiss. They pulled apart reluctantly and Italy smiled weakly. Germany held his breath, but he knew the time had come. He held his breath. He didn't want to say it, but the time had come. The grandfather clock chimed ten times somewhere in the house. He took a deep breath and kissed Italy one final time. "G-Goodbye, Italy."

Italy sniffled and hugged Germany one final time. "G-Goodbye Doitsu."

Chapter 1- End

Sorry Sorry! UGH I FEEL SO STUPID! The SW tripped me up! ALWAYS DOES!

And I'm supposed to have an IQ 0f 168.

Disclaimer: Do not own Hetalia