This fic contains mentions of ww2 and Hitler. Also a poor writing of good hurt/comfort. DON'T ASK ABOUT THE CATS!

I'm sorry Ludwig for being so cruel OTL

A Stray Cat

It was raining heavily in Rome. It hit hard and fast like gunfire on the large wide window of a rather large house. It was a bedroom window, with silk curtains pulled back to reveal a deep window seat. On it sat Feliciano Vargas, also known as Italy, staring dreamily out at the darkening overcast skies. It was rare to see this sort of a downpour in his capital. I'd feel sorry for any poor soul left out in this, he thought.

"What was that, Feli?" While he had been day dreaming, his elder brother, Lovino, had stomped moodily into his room. He turned to his brother, realising with a flush that he had spoken out loud.

"Oh nothing important, Lovi!" He said with a cheerful smile. Turning back to the window, however, his face fell. He murmured so quiet, his breath barely steamed the window,

"I hope Germany is nice and warm..."

With a painful and loud thump, Ludwig Beilschmich, otherwise known as Germany, fell back against the wall of one of Rome's snake-like alleys. Coughing on the blood the fall brought to his lips, he leaned back until his head touched solid brick. The torrential rain had pushed almost all back inside their comfortable houses. It was past the shopping hours anyway, and only the occasional driver went past. The large droplets were almost as painful as frozen bullets as they struck his bruised face. Concealed as he was between two large crates, he couldn't be seen. Germany touched his flank lightly. It was like being stabbed with a burning dagger. Broken. Of course it is. They wouldn't hit you so hard if they hadn't been trying to break your ribs. The single old fashioned lantern at the end of the alley was already lit, although the German was shaded by the crates he was wedged between. I guess I won't make it home tonight, he thought. A humourless smile tugged his lips. Not that there's anyone there to care.

It was annoying sometimes being a nation. Sometimes it was sad. And sometimes it was stupidly dangerous. Not like a human could do any real damage to a nation, but it still hurt when your rib cage was crushed by a hard boot. It still stung when your face was slashed by a broken bottle, traces of alcohol burning the damaged flesh. The ropes used to bind his hands still chafed badly. They didn't know that Germany could kill the four of them with a single blow each. He just couldn't do it. He couldn't hurt another human after what he did all those sixty plus years ago. A fist connected with his cheek, sending him to the ground with a crash. It was getting hard to ignore the names thrown at him. Brute, Monster, Demon.

…Nazi.

Italy was still watching the rain fall heavily at his window. Lovino had stomped out again, grumbling that he was going to Spain's house. Not so very long ago, by a nations standards, he would have dragged his old friend out just to play in the puddles covering their muddy training ground. He would snap about the mess it would make, but slowly, his etched in frown would disappear, and he would begin to smile. Italy loved Germany's smile. It was so rare and sweet, and so very, very beautiful. Again, Italy felt the over powering urge to go for a walk in the rain. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a small movement. Turning towards it he saw, of all things, an umbrella sitting on the table beside him. His eyes opened wide, then he smiled. Why not? Swinging himself off the wooden window seat he sat on, he stretched as high as he could. On the back of his door hung his large raincoat, and after pulling on a warm jumper, he flung it on and grabbed the umbrella. As he practically ran downstairs, calling out to his brother that he was going for a little walk, he failed to notice the grey cat plodding down the stairs behind him.

Did they think he enjoyed that madman's rule? Did he enjoy listening to the crying, the screams and the groans? Did he enjoy being stripped to his waist and restrained while his back was marred by countless deaths, burned, slashed, beaten into his skin? No. Never. Then why did I listen to him? I was foolish. Caught up in his prophecies of greatness along with my people. I let him do those atrocities. And he began to effect me. I guess Italy saw it was driving me insane… So he left…

Germany could feel his head nodding. If I fall asleep now, it may be a while before I wake up again… The taunts of his attackers still rang in his ears. Nazi. I guess part of the reason I didn't fight back's because I know they're right. I am still a monster. Germany pulled his knees close to his chest. It hurt a lot, but it was nothing to some of his war injuries. He was scared of me. That's why he left. The rain falling down was chilling him through. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Me~ow~." Ludwig turned to his side. He blinked once, twice, before staring at the largish brown cat sitting beside him. It waved it's tail slightly, before rubbing it's head against his arm. I should have known I'd meet a cat in Italy. He loved them… Slowly Germany raised his hand and rubbed the wet brown head. A sad smile tugged at his lips.

"You're a pretty brave cat. Humans won't come near me sometimes." Almost as a response the cat purred happily. It had two strange tufts of hair, one on the top of it's head, the other off to the left. His hand lingered over the left. It's like Italy's. September the 3rd. I guess… I guess it's true what they say, that you only realise how much something means to you when you no longer have it. Resting his arms on his knees, and his forehead on his arms, Ludwig tried to hold back the strange feeling in his eyes. I only took this damn trip to try and see him. Just to try and apologize again. It had been so long since he'd heard Italy laughing, so long since someone had just hugged him because he felt like it. I just want to see him smile again… There was a sensation of warm water on his cheeks. Am I..? I'm… crying. The cat was padding his shoulder, almost like a hand. Slowly Germany lifted the small body up into his lap. Grateful for the warmth, the cat buried it's soft head in his shoulder, purring loudly. The cat's fur smelt like wine, he noticed as he buried his face in it's side. Italy's hair had smelt like wine…

Italy yelped as a car passing splashed a large quantity of water from the rapidly growing puddles upon him. The umbrella he held in his hands was large, and one of those clear ones. It was large enough for two people really. Looking up, Italy saw the raindrops on it's surface was refracting the light from the street lamps. It was pretty to look at really. I wish he could see it. Maybe he'd smile then. He looked back at his feet. The last time they'd been close enough to touch, they'd both been so hurt and ill and tired, he doubted Germany remembered what he'd whispered in his delirium.

"Ich… Ich… Ich liebe dich, Italien."

"Ti amo anche… Germania."

"Meow." That strangely flat and almost human sound came suddenly from not far behind him. A wet, grumpy looking grey cat trotted under his umbrella and stared straight at him, before giving it's flat mew. It's eyes were a deep blue-green colour.

"What are you doing out in the rain, kitty?" he asked, bending down to pick up the cat. As he did so, a large gust of wind swept along the street, as though it was attempting to strip the dirt from the walls. It seized Feliciano's umbrella and wrenched it from his grip.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, as the rain began to hammer on his back. The cat meowed again and chased off after the umbrella.

"Hey wait!"

The cat in Germany's arms wriggled to get out of the powerful grip. Its captor appeared to have fallen into some sort of stupor, his eyes closed loosely, and his breathing was shallow and slow. Tears were still trickling down from underneath his eyelids. Germany trembled as the soggy animal sat down beside him again. The for a brief moment he thought someone had embraced him. What felt strangely like a hand ghosted through his blood-matted hair. Then the comforting feeling was gone, and he opened his eyes slowly. The cat was trotting towards the end of the alley.

"Buongornio, Germany! Hug me, hug me!"

"Waa~h, please don't forget meee~!"

"YAAH! It's England! Save me Germany!"

"Thank goodness you're awake! You had me worried..."

"We'll always be friends right?"

"I really, really like you Germany..."

"I'm so sorry..."

"I have to go..."

"Please forgive me..."

"It's the only way..."

"Goodbye..."

No… wait… don't go! I don't want to be alone again! In a reckless fit of desperation, Germany rose to his feet and toppled out from behind the crates. One step more and the world was thrown on a round-a-bout. Lights exploded and with a painful crunch he lay in a puddle, one arm still outstretched. Raising his head a little, he could just see the light of the lantern at the mouth of the alley. The cat had paused and he swore he saw it wink at him. And it vanished. It may have just been blood running into his eye, but he could have sworn he saw a swish of red like a cloak. Germany stared at where it had been. Then slowly he dropped his hand into the murky water surrounding him. His Iron Cross, once one of his most prized possessions, lay beside his face. The metal had become chipped, with one large crack running from corner to corner. Now the metal had broken into two halves.

"Gotcha!" A pair of trainers had jumped into the pool of light. There was a spin, a flash of many colours, before Germany could see their owner. He struggled and raised his head a little higher. The rain had soaked his soft brown hair but that ridiculous hair still bobbed cheerfully as the young man pulled his catch, a large clear umbrella in, his pale blue raincoat swirling around a slender form. He was smiling slightly, and as he bathed in the cold artificial light, he seemed to reflect it back real and warm.

"Ita.. Italien?" Italy turned sharply to him. Those eyes were for once open wide.

"Germania!" There was one step towards slowly, two, three a little faster, four faster still, and then he was running. Germany half expected the Italian to panic, or smother him with questions like "what happened?" "How did you get hurt?" "why are you here?", but instead he said nothing. One of his hands cupped Ludwig's chin and turned his face up. Then it's digit's moved up to the slashes over his cheek and eye, wiping the clear tears away. His bottom lip trembled childishly. His big dark eyes began to shine more with tears. Ludwig gasped when Italy pulled him into a full embrace.

"I'm so sorry Germany… You're so cold… And so badly hurt… Please don't cry… You always said only weak people cry!" Even as the blood began to trickle into his mouth again, Ludwig smiled into the shorter man's jumper.

On waking up in a bed he most certainly hadn't fallen asleep in, Ludwig assumed that he had, in fact, bent the rules and died. He did not recall cold, wet concrete feeling like he was cocooned in warm clouds of vanilla-smelling silk. He was still too tired to even want to find out where he was, and the throbbing pain beginning to blossom across his body was the sort that warned him if he even sat up he would be extremely sorry for it. So… Not heaven? Not hell unless they've really changed their style… Vaguely, he recalled an angel bathed in bright light calling to him. And the face… so familiar. A petite, heart shaped face, lightly tanned, with large, brown doe eyes framed by auburn hair with a bizarre curl sticking out despite the rain. That sound like… Then the rest of the night returned to him, being beaten, cuddling a cat for warmth in the rain, and being found. After a moment he concluded he couldn't open his right eye, as a pad, held in place by perhaps a bit more then sufficient bandaging, was over it. Half opening one eye, Germany found himself staring at the canopy of a rich four poster bed. It was like some cliché romance novel, he thought with a smirk. Of course Italy wouldn't think to call an ambulance before whisking Germany home and into, presumably, his bed. A tremble rolled over Germany's body. Even though he was warm, he felt distinctly shivery. And tired… so very tired.

However, the squeak of an old door being opened temporarily frightened his desire to sleep away. Germany turned his head towards the sound. A slender figure laden with a large tray nudged the white door shut with his hip. He was humming softly, some Italian melody, until he turned to the bed. For a moment they stared at each other, before a gentle smile worked it's way onto the brunette's face.

He chirped shyly, "Buongiorno, Germania! I'm sorry if I woke you." Italy set the tray on a stout bedside table, revealing it's contents of three or four rolls of bandages, several bottles of medicine, cotton pads, a thermometer, water and a bowl of what smelt to Germany like heaven.

"Nein… I was already awake," he said, ruefully aware of how frail his voice was. Italy laid one hand on his forehead, brushing aside his loose blonde bangs. Germany leaned into his palm with a sigh of pleasure. It feels… so good, he thought. And it felt natural. Italy was watching him with a strangely loving look in his eyes. In fact, his whole face looked a little different. He seamed to have lost the eternal childishness that outwardly annoyed Germany, but inwardly he found endearing. The moment was broken by Germany's stomach rumbling just loud enough for Italy to hear. The childishness returned with a blink of wide brown eyes.

"Ve~! I made you something to eat!" Italy began to babble on as usual. "I'm not sure if it'll taste okay, but the doctor said you needed something easy to keep down. He was really nice though! He said you'll be able to walk in a few days aswell…"

On the tray now sat an empty bowel, formally filled with arguably the best chicken broth Germany had ever tasted, open bottles and several bloodstained bandages. Italy was dabbing a cut on his left cheek with antiseptic. He was continuing to chatter on.

"I was just thinking about you before I came out… and then there was this cat, he was so cute, and he looked sorta like you!" Germany vaguely considered feeling insulted at being called "cute" "I was so surprised when I found you like this…" Italy's babble trailed off and his smile faded a bit. "You were crying… The last time I saw you cry was after the war ended…" Germany flinched a little.

"Germany…" Italy lowered his hands to take Ludwig's. The larger of the two perked his ears up at the tone of Italy's voice. "You know… I never wanted to leave you then." The comfort between them was broken. This… was a conversation they needed to have.

Germany mumbled in a strained voice, "Then why did you?" Italy rubbed his eyes with his sleeves.

"To save you from that man making you into another Roman Empire." Germany blinked. That sounded… familiar.

"You were so strong, but you kept getting into battles. And you didn't sleep well… He was hurting you! The only way to free you was for you to lose… You thanked America didn't you?" Germany nodded remembering the blood drenched earth meeting his back as he fell. His presence lifting from his mind. Finally… free. Not having to fight. One of Italy's hands still rested on his.

"What did he do to you, that made you hurt so bad? I know you're not so cruel by nature… he did something really terrible to you, I know he did!" Ludwig looked up to meet his eyes. I can't tell him… it would make him too sad…

And suddenly he was back in that cold, dark room. Damp air caressed his skin, stripped to his black underwear, with false comfort. His arms and legs were strapped to a metal table, and a rag filled with weak chloroform stuffed in his mouth. Wires were clasped to his nerves all over. And over him stood that one man. The one he'd once worshipped. The one who smiled while his country writhed and moaned weakly as thousands of volts were unleashed across his body.

"This will hurt. But it's for your own good," the fatherly comforting words, malicious with the greed and megalomania behind them. Each bout could last for up to half an hour, after which he was left in spasms and drenched in sweat and tears.

"Those feelings will only come to hurt you. Your feelings for him are disgusting. He cannot and will not love you back." And Prussia, kneeling with clenched fists in the corner, after struggling against guards holding him back and screaming to leave his little brother alone, was beaten to the ground and dragged into a basement. So he squeezed back the tears yet to fall, closing his eyes as pain coursed through his body to the sounds of thousands of screams.

When Ludwig opened his eyes again, he found himself wrapped in a warm embrace, Italy's fingers threading through his mussed hair. Then he realised he was crying again. His cheeks were wet and warm. A gentle rocking motion was calming him steadily.

"I'm sorry I brought up something so painful. But you have to let these tears out eventually," Italy said softly, brushing butterfly kisses into Germany's hair.

"Nothing seemed worth it really, after you left. It was just pain. Pain and dust and screams and his empty promises…" His voice broke into quiet sobs. Italy squeezed the larger gently.

"I'm sorry. You suffered most in the end."

"It stopped raining while you were sleeping!" Italy said as he skipped over to a large window. Ludwig blinked sleepily at the smaller man, humming while he pulled back the pale silk curtains. Brilliant sun filtered in through the wide glass. It hurt Germany's eyes a little, but opening them again was rewarded with the sight of Italy's calm, gentle smile. For a moment he thought back to the angelic apparition from the previous night. The way his skin glowed golden, the way his eyes were deep enough to drown in, the way his hair smelt like rich wine, his loud, happy, beautiful laugh. Freedom. Italy leaned out at opened the window wide, allowing in a fresh gust of morning breeze. Between the sounds of children playing in puddles and merchants cheerfully calling out to potential customers, flitted the peaceful sound of the breeze rustling the leaves of a tree. And beneath the smell of tomato sauce and paint, the earthy smell of post rain air. Germany struggled with his exhaustion and pulled himself into a sitting position. The white curtains billowed back over Italy's shoulders. He leaned forwards and shut his eyes, still smiling.

"The morning after a rainstorm is magical isn't it, Germany?"

"Yeah, it is." Sorta like you. But it's not nearly as lovely.

"I wish we could go for a walk or- Germany what are you doing?" Germany had pulled himself painfully upright and stumbled over to the Italian. From behind, he wrapped his arms around his waist and buried his face in his shoulder.

"Danke… Feliciano."

Feliciano jumped a little. Germany had never used his actual name before. Not all countries knew each other by their human names. And using them was almost prohibited. To use them meant a presence of human feelings for each other, not just political ties. Dangerous feelings, their bosses warned them. Feelings Germany's old boss had tried in vain to torture out, as he discovered while he wept in his arms. Germany was leaning quite heavily on him, he could feel his hoarse breathing, his fever flushed skin against his neck. Gently, Italy raised a hand and stroked the German's cheek.

"Anytime, Ludwig." For a moment they stood still, staring at the scene in front of Italy's house. It really was beautiful. A happy, sunny day in Rome, as though those wars had never happened.

"Feliciano…Ti amo." Ludwig's voice was almost too quiet to hear.

"What was that?" Feliciano asked with a smile. Ludwig blushed more vibrantly.

"N-never mind…" He turned round slowly in the larger man's arms, wrapping his tight around his waist.

"Ludwig?" He responded with a weak grunt. Adorable.

Feliciano whispered in a voice almost as quiet as Ludwigs, "Ich liebe dich."

Outside in the tree, two cats sat side by side, one grey and fluffy, the other brownish with curls sticking up randomly. With sea green and coffee eyes respectively, they watched the two young looking nations press their foreheads together, before the smaller guided the larger back to the bed, where he helped him slip under the covers and tucked him in. After a single soft kiss on the forehead, the larger drifted off peacefully. The smaller got up from the bed and came to the window.

"Oh hello again kitty! I guess I should thank you for yesterday, you did help me find Ludwig…" Feliciano reached out to pet the grey cat. However he miscalculated the distance and almost tipped forwards, if two pairs of strong hands had not caught him. Looking up, he almost lost his skin.

"Nonno?" One mischievous brown eye winked at him as he pushed him back inside. The second man looked very much like an older version of Ludwig, with long blonde hair, and the same annoyed expression.

"No. I thank you for saving my grandson… not just last night. He has… needed saving for a long time," he said. Similar gruff voice too.

"I guess he has…" Italy said with a smile. "He'll be fine with me though! You won't have to worry about him at all, sir!" He saluted with his left hand.

"It is not Ludwig I am worried about…" Germania growled. Rome grinned cheerily at Feliciano.

"You two take care of each other now! Now shoo, it's time for your siesta!" Feliciano had just stifled a yawn. He laughed quietly.

"Yeah, I guess so! Thank you Nonno Roma.. And…"

"This old sod's Germania. Remember, Holy Rome's grandfather?" Rome said, earning a punch in the gut from his friend.

"Holy Rome…" Feliciano turned to look back at the bed, where Ludwig was sleeping peacefully. He smiled. You did come back.

"Yeah… You'll have to ask Gilbert about that. And Roderick." At Feliciano's confused face Germania added impatiently, "Prussia and Austria." Feliciano nodded. It doesn't really matter I guess. I love Ludwig, no matter where he represents.

"Now get to bed Feli, he'll need you next to him." Feli waved once more at the two fully armoured men sitting in his garden tree before skipping back to the bed stripping as he went, to snuggle in next to Ludwig, who . Germania sighed.

"Can we get out of this tree now?" Rome slung his arm over his shoulders and made a kissy face in the direction of the window.

"Aww, but Feli is so kyu~te when he's sleeping! And your's isn't so bad either, he has your-" Germania elbowed him out of the tree, blushing.

"Shut up! Moron…" He jumped down himself landing more gracefully then his companion, on all fours, while Rome landed on his ass. After a little yowling, the two cats slipped out of the garden gate and ran silently down the street, becoming fainter…

and fainter…

and fainter…

until there was only the rustling of leaves on the siesta emptied street.

END

I apologise for the rambliness of my writing OTL.

I guess I just love fluff to much, and Rome and Germania crack me up XD You can tell where Germany get's his Tsundereness from :3