Prometto

Ludwig limped around the bodies that were piled on the ground. His heart was slowly building up to a fast-paced symphony. If he didn't find Feliciano...that meant he was... Germany shook the thoughts from his head. He couldn't bring himself to think about it. He looked around at the shattered ruins of the once peaceful Italian village. The air still smelled like the pasta sauce that an Italian woman had probably been cooking for her family for supper that evening. It had been a His heart nearly stopped when he saw a pair of twin boys that reminded him of Feliciano and Romano. He had to keep looking...!
"Italien!" he cried again. "Bitte, Italien!"
"Nnngh!" came a small cry, "Germania!"
"Italien!" Germany turned in the direction that the plea came from. The wide open, dead eyes of the corpses seemed to follow him as he made his way towards the cries for help.
"Germania, aiutatemi!!" Feliciano begged. He sounded so close, yet his voice seemed small... weak. Scared.
Ludwig fell to his knees and started pulling corpses out of the way. One, a small girl, wasn't dead yet. She was about seven years old, with
dark curly brown hair and brown eyes. She was covered in mud and blood and muttering small, broken phrases in Italian
Germany hung his head. He couldn't help her. There was a large dagger potruding from her stomach. She shuddered in his hands and wrapped her own small ones around the handle of the blade and tried in vain to pull it out. She never made it. He wanted to hold her in his arms until her body cooled, but he had to keep looking for Italy. He carefully her aside and then pulled another body out of the way.
Wiping the tears away, he continued his search for Feliciano, calling out his name repeatedly, always being answered with a small, pathetic moan from the smaller country.
"Germania!" Italy cried, "Aiutatemi!!"
Finally, Germany grabbed something warm --- Italy's small hands. He pulled him out from underneath a young Russian soldier.
"Germania!" Italy sobbed, clinging to Germany's uniform. "Graize, Germaina..."
"Italien, bitte leben."
A sharp noise behind them made Germany turn sharply and pull his gun from its holster. "Halt!" he cried, pointing the gun at the approaching figure.
Ivan Braginski stepped from the darkness, a dark smirk on his face. "Well, well, well..." he mocked. "I see that Germany can still find the useless freak even after I destroyed him when he refused to become one with me." His accent was very thick. Even if he hadn't been able to see his face, Germany knew that this was his enemy.
Germany cocked his gun. "Stay back!"
Russia took an impending step forward. "Oh, you have a weapon. How cute."
The blonde fired a warning shot between Ivan's legs. "Don't. Come. A. Step. Further." he warned.
Braginski backed up. "Very well." he turned away. "You AND Italy WILL become one with me one day!" With that vow, he walked away, not looking back.
Ludwig could have sworn he heard "Kol kol kol..." being chanted as Braginski fled into the twilight.
The blonde stood, placed his gun back in its holster and gently lifted a now unconcious Feliciano onto his back.
"Don't worry, " Ludwig reasurred the sleeping young man, "I won't let him take you..."
"Nnnn..." Italy moaned, scrunching up on the German's back.
"I won't...ever." he promised, walking towards the nearest hospital for help.