This chapter is kind of sad. Aw, now I'm sad! God dammit, we'll all be sad! Together!

Even though he knew that this was for her own good, it pained Austria considerably to watch his wife fuss over Italy's coat and hair as she prepared their daughter for travel. Screwing his eyes tight, he reminded himself again that it was all for the best. She would be safer with Spain. She would be happier with Spain.

"Now, you must remember your manners when you are at Mr. Spain's home, Italy." Hungary said, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes as she helped the young girl into her coat. "You must also mind the fact that you have to be resting. You shouldn't lift heavy things, or run about, or do anything strenuous. Promise me you won't!"

"Sí, I promise." Italy replied, her voice blank as well as her expression. Hungary made a small noise and then pulled her close to her heart, burying her nose in the carmine locks for a moment and simply breathing in the nation's scent.

"That's...that's a good girl." Hungary mumbled thickly, quickly moving to button Italy's coat for what would most likely be the last time. "Oh, you're going to need bigger clothes soon. Your jacket doesn't fit very well anymore, now does it?"

"No." again, her voice was emotionless. She glanced down at her straining buttons and sighed, placing a hand lightly over the bump responsible.

"Mr. and Mrs. Edelstein?" a young guard with brown curls poked his head through the front gate with an anxious expression. "The carriage is here for Ms. Vargas."

"Yes, of course. Thank you." Austria replied, nodding once and approaching Italy, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Well then, I suppose it would be best for us to move along." he was not going to cry. He wasn't her father, he shouldn't be attached to her like this! But...if he wasn't supposed to be, then why did his heart ache so much?

"Sí." she reached down for her trunk and took hold of one of the handles, giving it a tug. Austria started forwards and pulled her hand away from the leather loop, shaking his head.

"No, no. You shouldn't be carrying things that heavy. I'll have a guard bring it for you." she nodded and then turned slowly to the door, allowing Austria to lead her towards it.

Italy felt rather like a ghost. She drifted along the stone bricks without a sound, without a single emotion displayed across her face. Her cheek muscles were slack, pulling her rosy lips into a frown, and her eyes looked lifeless. But no one could blame her for looking so gloomy; after all, she was leaving on the premise that her child's father did not want him.

Outside the little family went, the guard from before carrying Italy's trunk a few feet behind them. Indeed, sitting jauntily in the long driveway was Spain's carriage, a thing of beauty. Decorated with gold and various other precious materials, it certainly was breathtaking, despite the obvious wear-and-tear from wars and numerous road trips. Beside the carriage stood a tall man of no more than, at the most, twenty-eight years, a small smile on his lips and a jovial twinkle in his eyes. His olive skin and dark hair gave off the impression he was Mediterranean, but his green eyes stood out like a sore thumb.

This man was, of course, Spain. As his gaze fell upon the girl walking towards him, he spread his arms wide and beamed, the twinkle in his eyes positively glimmering.

"Ah! Italy!" for the first time that morning, Italy actually managed a small, genuine smile. "There you are! My, look at how you've grown! You're a young lady now! Why, the last time I saw you, you were only up to my knee! How time flies, eh?"

"Sí, it certainly goes by quickly." she said politely, curtsying just like Ms. Hungary had taught her. Spain's smile grew even larger.

"What a lady you are, indeed! Where did you learn such manners?" he asked, patting her head and smiling at her guardians. Hungary gave a watery smile.

"She's a good girl." she said, her voice shaky. "She's very well-mannered and polite."

"Ah, I know that! I'm just teasing her a little, that's all." and then, as if he forgot why he was here, he snapped his fingers and gave a curt nod. "Oh! There's someone who wants to see you, Italy!" he opened the carriage door with a flourish and stepped aside, waiting as another young Italian clambered down the stairs that led to the ground.

Italy's breath hitched in her throat as she caught sight of him; there he was. Her brother, Romano. He was taller than her, but much taller than she had remembered. His wavy hair fell in his eyes, a darker shade of brown than her own, and with a wayward curl much like her own. His eyes were darker than hers as well, and she could see the muscle he had gained from working days in the field with Spain.

"Romano?" she asked hesitantly, spreading her arms wide and smiling weakly. He stared at her for a moment before glancing at her growing waistline and then back to her eyes, moving towards her with a frown.

"Hey." he muttered, leaning into her hug awkwardly. Spain smiled obliviously and then clapped his hands together.

"Well! Isn't this nice?" Romano inched away from his sister as soon as possible, as if he were uncomfortable with touching her. "Why don't we take your trunk out, Roma, and then we'll put Ita's into it, huh? How does that sound?"

"Whatever." Romano muttered, remembering how Spain had told him not to cuss in front of his new guardians. "If it'll get me away from you faster." Spain just chuckled good-naturedly and ruffled Romano's hair before turning to the guard and taking Italy's chest from him.

Soon the proper luggage had been unloaded and loaded, and final goodbyes were upon them much too soon for anyone's liking.

"I guess this...is goodbye." Italy said, turning to her guardians, both of whom were standing hand in hand, sorrowful expressions on both of their faces.

"No, no. This isn't goodbye..." Hungary whimpered, sniffling and pulling Italy to her chest. Italy would've asked what it was, but she feared that if she opened her mouth, vomit would come up instead of a question. For a moment, the two girls stood in each other's arms, savoring this last embrace. "Be a good girl..." Hungary said again, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and then turning her head so as to not let Italy see her tears.

"Papa..." Austria took a deep breath and forced a smile, opening his arms and allowing her to crash into him. "Papa!" he wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to cry.

This was for her own good. It's for her own good.

This was the right thing to do. It's the right thing to do.

He had to protect this child and his own daughter. I have to protect this child and my daughter.

But...but...but...

"Italy..." he murmured, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. She buried her face into his chest, biting back a loud sob. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't...going to cry. He...h-he wasn't...

"Papa..." a single, lonely tear managed to weave its way down his face, plopping to the ground with a forlorn plop.

"I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry, Italy..." but it was too late.

OMG, all of my feels! This is the first time I cried while writing something! 。・゜・(ノД`)・゜・。

Anyways, I would appreciate a review, a follow, maybe even a favorite! That would be awesome! Thanks~

Hasta la Pasta,

SausageMahoney98