† Duo; Video; Backdated to the afternoon, after hers and England's fight.

[fettuttittes]

[The communicator flicks on as Romana tosses it onto her bed, somehow landing on her pillow in a way that you get just enough of a look of the room to tell what's going on. It jostles slight as Romana sits down on the bed, groaning softly as she reaches down to unlace her boots, wriggling her toes once they're free. There's worse aches in her body

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/NOT LATE also both bro and sis feel free to reply ;3;

[crotchroses]

[It was a brother's duty to take care of his family. They were not on the best of terms, no, but he couldn't consider Romana or Romano his enemies. With all that has been going on, France can't bring himself not to do something for them whether they want the assistance or not.

In any case, if anyone knew something about old wounds that bring up unpleasant memories, it was him, right?

He brings what supplies he can spare as well as a closed container packed full of food he's cooked himself from what Italian recipes he recalls. Stacked atop it is a package with bandages and other first-aid items, and on top of that is a folded garment--a slightly patchwork but carefully-sewn dress. It's difficult to manage something more practical given the lack of material, but this is the least he could offer. She was much too young to wear something like this in those days, and it would be sturdy and keep her warm when the colder months came--if winter was a thing that happened here. Worse case, he would alter the measurements for someone else if

[crotchroses]

[sob Romana. w;A;w

France relinquishes the dress without a fuss, but he still looks very concerned.] Ma cherie, at least sit. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tell me what you would like me to do, I will do it. No strings attached; you shouldn't have to-- [pause. Now who sounds human? Ah whatever, he will go into brother!french host!mode.]--

I don't care if you do not trust me. You're not my enemy and I can't stand to see someone [injured] feeling unwell.

[/f-fuss. :( ]

[fettuttittes]

[She holds it, carefully folding it over her bad arm to try and make it seem like it's not so bad

After a weak attempt to roll her eyes, she shakes her head] No. I'm not hungry, or thirsty... I don't need anything. [Except she totally does. Food, liquid, and just someone to be there.

Her eyes drop to the floor, Romana swallowing as she tries to crush her emotions into a small box and bury it] I-I am. I am your enemy. I'm her enemy. I stood... stood by, and let that fucking cagna just inv-invade and I... Everything... everything is just so fucked.

[Her voice cracks and Romana drops the dress, both hands rising to cover her mouth even as her shoulders shake.]

[crotchroses]

[France steps to her automatically and he has a clean handkerchief out. It's being unfolded delicately and softly placed into her hands.]

Non, non, cherie, hush. Each of us have regrets about the war still, but we-- we did what we could at the time. [His attempt at comfort is an honest one. France certainly means what he says, although there is far more to it than that on an indescribable scale (though it goes without saying that she knows this).] I stayed behind in 1940 for a reason, Romana. I was not giving up. How I hated it, letting that filthy bastard poison across my borders, take hold-- [He realizes his teeth are grinding, and France forcibly relaxes again. There was a time and a place. Now wasn't it.] ... It spared myself and my citizens from annihilation and offered secret passage for those fleeing and returning to Europe to fight.

... We all did what we could. [He'll leave it there for now.]It will be alright. I promise that. The Allies stamp out the evils that poison Europe. You have a future, you and your sister both. It

[fettuttittes]

[Body shaking, she slowly takes the handkerchief, fingers curling tightly around it before her hand returns to her mouth. She feels so ashamed, embarrassed to be showing how weak she is, how much she really hurts. How much everything's gotten to her.]

I... I do like her always, and she's an idiot, and she's far too touchy feely but... Nonna... she... it's so complicated. And I try not to, but sometimes I feel so guilty. Of... of all people. I can't even help her. I can barely help Venezia and we're both sinking.

I don't want to rely on them. I don't want to be the bad guys, I don't want to be stamped out. I don't want the big brave Allies to rescuse stupid little Italy and why did anyone let them become an actual nation? Haha, so foolish, so stupid. [She swallows, slowly making her way to the couch and curling up, dark bruising clear on her legs from her fight before] I'm scared of this future. My people, they're tired, I know it. I can't give them what they need, I can't industrialize fast enough, I can't get rid of the crime, I

[crotchroses]

[Possibly against his better judgment, France slowly, very quietly joins Romana on the couch.] It won't last forever, and when it is over, you and your sister and your citizens will have the chance to flourish and be happy.

[France wishes he could find the proper words to say more, but there aren't any there. That bothers him, quite a lot, but he understands the pain she carries and there is little he can do to communicate it all properly.

A hand rested very gently on her shoulder would have to do as a start.]

[fettuttittes]

[She doesn't look up, or move as he sits next to her, her arms wrapped tight around her legs. Shuddering, she stares at the floor to try and quell her tears, tendrils of self hate creeping through her.

She's being weak. She can't be weak.

A shudder running through her she move away from his hand, roughly swiping her own over her eyes] Ha. You've said that, and he's said that so I guess I should just believe, huh? Believe and hope everything really will come out okay and we'll all be happy?

It seems impossible Francia. And foolish.

[crotchroses]

[Not intending to be callous, France shrugs; but his expression is a little sad. He withdraws his hand and folds them both in his lap.] Would you have believed people could communicate instantly across oceans when you were young? I would not have.

A lot of things seem impossible. Of course you may believe what you like, but I would not lie to you about this, and neither would he. [voice still soft and kind. Romana. ;; ]

[fettuttittes]

[She moves around the apartment, picking up things, anything to keep from being still, properly focusing on him] I... guess so. I probably would have thought it was witchcraft...

[Sighs] I don't know what to think, or believe. Not to mention, that's your world. Who knows if mine will go the same...

[crotchroses]

There is no reason it would not. Sakura, she is from 2011 also. She would tell you. [He watches her quietly, and for once he does so discreetly.

Don't look at her legs don't look at her legs don't look at her legs.]

[fettuttittes]

I... I'm not sure if I want to. I know how she feels about surrender and... [Sighs, shaking her head, her voice dropping to a whisper.]

I think I need their help...

[crotchroses]

... You don't have to decide this very moment. Please come sit.

[fettuttittes]

When. When do I decide? When my country is in a complete ruin, and everyon- thing important is gone? When Naples is nothing but a memory, and the stones of Rome are being torn from the ground? When Francia.

...I can't. [As soon as she does she knows she'll struggle to get back up]

[crotchroses]

[For several seconds, France struggles with himself. She did raise a good point indirectly. She would be forced to live with the circumstances of the world as it was from the last moment she was there. She was stuck, almost, settled into one circumstance and forced to live in that state until time could resume again.

His eyes cast around the room, looking at anything but Romana. He puts a hand to his mouth in thought, running his fingers over his face as he tries to process this.

The conclusion he reaches is that this is monstrous, and it puts the state in which all the nations are living in perspective. He closes his eyes and feels tears spring up unwillingly.

Stubbornly, France wipes them from his eyes and shakes his head. God, he feels like such a failure. There is no reason he should, of course, but the memories of that war flicker across his mind very, very vividly. There is only so much one nation can do.

Why are they forced to live this way? It's disgusting. Foul.]That day has not happened yet. Please believe Romano, if

[fettuttittes]

[Her fingers press into the thing in her hands, held more for something to do that awareness of what it is. She's not even sure, even when her fingernails press against the rubbery surface, finding some give before resistence. Then she realises it's a child's ball, dirty and forgotten.

She can feel the heat of tears pricking at her eyes even as she tries to force them down. Even as her nails press in harder, shoulders shaking with the slight effort.

She feels hot, she feels cold. Like screaming, crying, throwing the ball, demanding that someone fix it, because like hell she knows how to. She wants Spain to be here, to curl up in the other woman's arms like when she was younger.

She wants to stop feeling]

I... why is he so different to me. I... I wish I could be that scared, show how scared I can be. But I can't, they'd walk all over me if I did, even for just a second.

[The ball trembles in her hand and she lets it go, watching it roll away. Slowly she looks to France, and her eyes slowly narrow. Apologies mean something, at

[crotchroses]

I-- What?

[He realizes what his apology sounded like and he immediately shakes his head.] Non, I am apologizing because--[His eyes meet hers. He does nothing about her grip or her proximity. He would let her punch him if she wanted, though only if it helped at least.]

... [Why did he apologize? It's not as if--

He can't--

. . . ]

We should have stopped Allemagne's boss and his armies when we had the chance.

[As close as he will ever be to admitting that he is, or has been, a very shitty brother--the last two centuries, anyone?

France looks away and stiffens, then looks into Romana's eyes again. It's a struggle to do so, and a visible one, but he's faced worse before and for less noble reasons.]