Shotguns in Their Roses (Hetalia)

Radios Ramble in Washington D.C.

America used to like hanging out with the Italian dudes.

They were cool, funny, and though they where kind of cowardly when in war they sure weren't shy in peace, but best of all, even though they were much, MUCH older then he was, they never held it above him.

And now that he thought about it, they were actually around the same ago as England, probably way older. Holy shit.

And now that he realizes that South Italy is probably one of the oldest countries he knows, he was born around 272 B.C. if his historians are right. He's pretty much only younger then Japan and China, and now that America realized that is immensely freaked out about his fate.

Is he doomed to either be a shut-in otaku or a feminine old guy?

Anyways, back to the memories.

It all began with a pair of boots.......

*

The blonde country sighed, wondering why his boss sent him, the United States of America, to pick up a pair of leather boots that his boss had ordered a few days before for God knows what reason. And guess where he had to go to pick them up?

I-freaking-taly.

Why they couldn't have just been shipped to Washington was beyond him.

America looked down at the box in his hand with a small glare. "You're giving me more trouble then your worth, just be glad I heroically decided to do it." He stated, sighing slightly. All the sudden a faint crack that sounded like bones breaking, followed a loud cry rang through the quite evening.

"Misericordia, per favore abbi pietà di me!" A voice cried out, only for a gunshot to sound and another loud scream to disrupt the calm.

"Huh?" America wondered aloud, not having fully realized what was going on quite yet.

Then, it sunk in that there was some guy probably being beaten up just a few feet away from the him, and the hero was just standing there.

He immediately straightened up like someone had just pulled Nantuket, and switched into stealth mode. Keeping close to the ground, he started to make his way towards the screams.

After all, what kind of a hero would he be if he let this go?!

Mentally humming the Mission: Impossible theme song, he found the source of the screams quickly; a small alleyway just off the road he had been walking on.

Of course, he thought, how didn't I see it before! The bad guys are always in the alleys!

But when he found an appropriate hiding place (a well hidden spot on a rooftop) and stuck out his head a little bit to get a glimpse of what he was up against, he was absolutely shocked with what he saw.

Italy was standing near the end of the alleyway (which he silently noted was a dead end) the northern half holding several bloody knives while the south held a smoking gun. The source of the blood was between them sprawled out on the ground, resembling one of the hamburgers the country loved so dearly instead of a breathing human being. The man didn't seem to be breathing.

In disbelief, America watched the scene in silence.

"Eh, questo è quello che ottiene di essere un traditore della famiglia." South Italy (America found that using North and South seemed much more respectful than simply calling one of them Italy and ignoring the other half.) said snidely, kicking the now clearly deceased man in the side.

The blondes brain numbly translated it to "Eh, that's what he gets for being a traitor to the family."

"Ve! Fratello, possiamo andare a vedere se ci sono delle gelaterie aperte?" North asked innocently, starting to walk down the street. "Perché no! Il lavoro è andato bene, così abbiamo meritano una ricopensa." His brother replied, following him.

As they walked away, North threw more knives into the limp body a few more times without even turning around. When his brother looked at him curiously, he just shrugged. "Meglio andare sul sicuro allora mi dispiace, Boss."

And with a whack on the head and a "don't call me that" from South, the two of them faded into the night.

America sat on that rooftop for the longest time in a stunned state. Suddenly, he remembered something.

"Dammit, I forgot the shoebox! And I didn't even get to be a hero!"

*
Misericordia, per favore abbi pietà di me! - Mercy, please have mercy on me!

Ve! Fratello, possiamo andare a vedere se ci sono delle gelaterie aperte? - Ve! Brother, can we go see it any gelato shops are open?

Perché no! Il lavoro è andato bene, così abbiamo meritano una ricopensa. - Why not! The job went well, so we deserve a reward.

Meglio andare sul sicuro allora mi dispiace, Boss. - Better safe then sorry, Boss.