Definitely Memory Loss [4/?]
anonymous
February 23 2010, 03:23:08 UTC
“So he doesn’t remember anything? Anything at all?” Spain and Veneziano had finally been pried apart and once that monumental task had been accomplished, the doctors had informed Spain of Romano’s condition.
“You people really think you’re countries, don’t you?” It was the first time Romano had spoken all day (minus a couple of expletives from before he hit his head).
Spain looked like he was going to join Veneziano in tears. Over the din of “Ve, but you’re a country too, brother!” and “You were my cute little henchman for centuries” Germany decided to be practical. It wasn’t a hard decision for him to make.
“Yes. We, including yourself, are the personifications of different nations. You are the personification of the southern half of Italy…”
Germany’s speech took an hour. By the end, Spain had stopped crying, Veneziano had stopped crying about his brother and had started crying tears of boredom, and Romano still hadn’t cursed at anyone yet. “…Do you have any questions?” Germany was starting to like this amnesiac version of Romano; it listened to him and didn’t throw heavy medical equipment at him.
“Sounds like a bunch of shit.” So much for not swearing.
“But I guess at least some of it has to be true, since Weepy over there looks like a carbon copy of me. But dumber.” Memories or no, Romano was still Romano. Germany took back the thought about liking him better this way. At least when the other had memories he didn’t keep Germany cooped up in some random Italian hospital while work piled up on his desk back in Berlin.
Spain took Germany’s resulting sigh as an indication to intervene. “Don’t be mean to your brother, Romano, it’s not very cute.”
Romano turned towards him. “So?”
That was the tamest reply Spain had ever gotten from using the c-word with Romano. He felt himself mentally boarding the train to the Twilight Zone that Germany had gotten on hours ago. “Uh, you shouldn’t do things that aren’t cute. Because you have such a big capacity for cuteness.”
Romano didn’t look convinced.
“Just listen to Boss, alright? That’ll be the fastest way to get better!”
Boss. The word sounded familiar to, well, he’d take their word for it that his name was Romano, although he wasn’t so sure about the whole country thing. “If we’re both supposed to be countries, then how are you my boss?”
“Weeell…”
Germany could smell the makings of an international crisis like a shark could smell a bloody fish carcass (From both far away and when he was underwater).
So I’m not either of the aboves, but the more the merrier, right? Here’s something quick and silly for you while you wait for the good stuff, OP. It’s about halfish done, and the rest of it should be up within the week, if it’s your cup of tea.
OP is happyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.
anonymous
February 23 2010, 05:59:26 UTC
ALSAKDASKJASHDKAlAS.
AUTHOR!ANON.
TAKE ME NOW.
Oh, wow. This is. This is my cup of tea, coffee, fruit-flavored beverage, soda. This is amazing, thank you! Ahh, and you did a good job of putting in humor while still being serious in parts. I wanna know, what will Spain doooo? Oh ho ho. I'm excited, anon, good work!
Author is glad
anonymous
February 23 2010, 20:46:47 UTC
TAKE YOU WHERE, OP?
I'm glad you like it so far! I was worried, because it felt like I was making it really silly, when the prompt has such an ability to inspire a story that's all long and involved and angsty romantic.
Spain will do silly things, and stupid things, and Spanish things, and other things that start with s (like South Italy, hm?).
Now that the fangirling is done with: thanks for telling this from Germany's POW (so hilarious and repressed, the poor thing), thanks for the whole Spanish population being ready for their country's hijinks (seriously, Antonio, your shoes?) and thanks for Veneziano being Veneziano (I have to admit, I'd be really jealous of him if I was Romano too).
Re: Definitely Memory Loss [4/?]
anonymous
February 23 2010, 13:08:21 UTC
Jesus Christ, this is one of the best fills I've ever seen on this entire kink meme. I mean, the way it's written it's just so absolutely funny. Not just funny one- liners. The whole thing is just funny, and yet you're so true to the characters -truer than 99% of fiction- that makes it even funnier. No I won't stop saying the word "funny" because that's what it is.
That and a pure brilliant read. Bravo, anon. Bra~vo.
Definitely Memory Loss [5/?]
anonymous
February 26 2010, 01:01:30 UTC
After the Excitable One and the Repressed One had gone home for the evening, Romano was left alone with the hum of the machines nestled around his bed, his thoughts, and Spain. As much as he would have liked to ignore all three of these things and just get some sleep, he couldn’t. The buzzing noise was annoying, his thoughts were way too jumbled, and the other country just wouldn’t shut up.
“Romano! Are you sure you don’t remember?”
“Yes.”
“…are you sure now?”
“Yes.”
This cycle had been on repeat for the past two hours, stopping only when Romano’s three visitors had left to get some sleep. At least, that was what he had thought they were going to do… until the one who said he was “The Kingdom of Spain! Don’t you remember?” had come back at midnight, towing a large suspicious sack behind him.
Maybe it was full of the bodies of other amnesiac countries he had annoyed to death. Romano couldn’t be sure, because as soon as Spain had re-entered the room, he had sat down on one corner of Romano’s bed and hadn’t stopped talking since.
“…and that’s why you should remember who you are, Romano. Doesn’t that make sense? Did it help you remember?”
“It’s one in the morning.”
Spain turned to the clock on the wall. Indeed, it was one-oh-two. And thirty-seven seconds. Thirty-eight. Thirty nine…
“Stop counting the seconds, you idiot.”
“…you called me an idiot. Does this mean you remember Boss, Romano?” Spain looked so hopeful.
“No, it means you’re a stupid fucking moron who counts out loud and won’t let me sleep!”
Now Spain just looked embarrassed. “Oh. I’ll be quiet then.”
“Good.” Romano pulled the covers over his head and resolved not to let anything bother him anymore. He was just going to ignore it all and go to sleep. Hopefully when he woke up, he would get to find out that this whole debacle had just been a ridiculous dream, which he could laugh about with his normal human friends and normal human neighbors and normal, really hot human girlfriend.
Definitely Memory Loss [6/?]
anonymous
February 26 2010, 01:05:25 UTC
His wakefulness was dreamless too, and it began much earlier than he would have liked. At the stroke of six A.M., Romano’s consciousness barely registered the shuffling sound of a heavy sack being dragged across the linoleum flooring. He even slept through a mysterious someone turning on the lights. The country that jumped on top of him a few seconds later… as much as he would have liked to sleep through that too, he didn’t.
“Holy shit, what do you think you’re doing?!” It was Spain. Of course it was Spain. Had he even left during the night?
“Good morning to you too, Romano.”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“What?” Romano wasn’t sure anymore whether Spain’s default mode was ‘hopeful’ or ‘confused’.
“Romano.”
“No, no. I’m Spain. Sppppppaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiinnnnnn. You’re Romano, Romano.” That’s it, he had decided. Spain’s default mode wasn’t ‘hopeful’ and it wasn’t ‘confused’ either: it was just plain stupid.
“…I’ll speak slowly for you, so you can understand. Why do you keep ending every sentence with the word ‘Romano’?”
Spain looked a little bashful at that. “Oh, you noticed. I guess… I guess it’s because you don’t really look like you believe that that’s your name. I thought that if I said it often enough, it’d start sounding more familiar, and then maybe you’d remember yourself faster, Romano!”
Romano didn’t know what to say to that, so he ended up not saying anything. Instead, he tried to go back to sleep, because really, six in the morning? He hoped to God that he wasn’t the sort of person who got up this early on a regular basis. It didn’t feel like it, but it’d be less weird than being the personification of a country was. Half a country. Whatever.
But he had forgotten that Spain was a bastard. Romano made the mental note, if he ever got his memories back, to never forget the ones that reminded him that Spain was a bastard.
“Romano, you can’t go back to sleep now. I had to make sure these were the right books, so I was reading for the past five hours. It wouldn’t have taken me so long, but you know how rusty my Italian is.” Spain withdrew several thick books from the curious sack that had spent the night sitting at the foot of Romano’s bed. They had interesting titles; some were in Spanish, some in English. Most were in Italian. All of them were history books, and most of them were about Italy. Him.
Spain placed each one on Romano’s bed, within easy reach. He smiled when he pulled out the last two books. Romano could clearly see The History of Spain and Spain: A History in the other’s hands and had the remote thought that maybe he should be embarrassed.
“I got these at your house last evening, before I came back here. You own a lot more books than I was expecting, Romano. It took a little while to find the right ones… and I never expected you would have any about me!” It wasn’t even a remote thought anymore: Romano was officially embarrassed.
“Who gave you the right to go rooting through my things?”
Definitely Memory Loss [7/?]
anonymous
February 26 2010, 01:09:59 UTC
“I’m sorry, Romano.” The funny thing was that Spain really did look sorry. Romano wished he would stop. It was difficult to be angry with someone so sincere. “But here, see? They’re all books about you and me and even a bit about your brother!”
“…and?”
At noon, he was really regretting asking that question. It was like a twisted version of story time, only Romano felt too old to have someone else read to him and the books had way too much text and lots of illustrations of people getting shot or stabbed. Sure, Spain hadn't been reading the whole time. He'd stopped once, when the doctors had come in to give Romano breakfast and check on his head wound.
That part had been great, actually, because Spain had spent those fifteen minutes hiding under the unoccupied bed on the other side of the room (“Sssh, Romano…I’m not exactly supposed to be here right now…”). Romano wasn’t sure why he hadn’t ratted Spain out to the doctors. After five and a half hours of lessons on his ‘past,’ Romano was starting to think that Spain’s insanity was contagious. Good thing he was already in a hospital, just in case it was fatal, too.
Spain closed the book he was holding and placed it on the table next to Romano’s bed. Two down…ten to go. “Well, Romano, any questions about the Habsburgs? Is any of this ringing any bells?”
The silence that descended as Spain waited for Romano’s reply was beautiful. Too bad Romano had to break it by tearing the idiot down a couple of notches.
“Why are you doing this?”
“We’ve both had really long histories. Sometimes I forget things too, and I don’t even have amnesia like you do, Romano. But now that you’ve heard about the things that happened to you again, maybe you’ll start getting your memories back. I really hope so…”
“Yeah, maybe that’ll work.” Spain looked surprised. Romano guessed that he didn’t agree with the other country all that often. “But why are you the one here telling me all of this stuff? Shouldn’t that be the other half of Italy’s job? Or couldn’t someone have just given me the books and let me read them myself? Later in the day?”
“…I guess that makes more sense. But you’re really important to me, so I wanted to do everything I could to help you remember.”
“What, you wanted me to remember the three hundred years when you were my overlord? Really? Are you hoping I’ll remember how much I dislike being ruled by somebody else?”
Now Spain looked sad… and was it Romano or did the hospital lights just get dimmer? “They weren’t all bad times. Sometimes you had fun at my house, Romano, I know you did! You never wanted to say it, but there had to be times when you liked being there. I would have been able to tell if you didn’t.”
Romano scoffed. “Sure. You know what you can do with your house-” he was cut off by the sound of the meal cart rolling down the hallway. “Never mind. Just get back under your bed, stupid. The doctors are coming back.”
The other country looked at Romano for a long moment. It was actually kind of creepy how serious he was being, but before Romano could think about it further, Spain wordlessly dived underneath the spare bed.
This got longer and less humorous than it was supposed to be. Ah well. Some more will come later tonight, and then it’ll probably finish early this weekend.
Definitely Memory Loss [8/?]
anonymous
February 26 2010, 06:33:52 UTC
The doctors had left twenty minutes ago… Romano was starting to worry about Spain. Surely he couldn’t have hurt himself so badly jumping under the bed that he’d lost consciousness. He was aggravating, yes, and stupid. But not that stupid.
Wait.
Where was that rustling coming from?
Romano would later swear that the noise he made was a manly grunt of surprise, and not the high pitched squeal of terror produced only by awkward teenage boys whose little sisters have saved over every ‘Call of Duty’ slot in the Wii, in order to make room for ‘My Ballet Studio.’ Spain didn’t notice the noise, so there was no one to challenge Romano’s claim, except for every other person with functional hearing within a two kilometer radius of the hospital.
“Did you know how hard it is to get pants off and tights on when you’re trapped underneath a bed?”
“Never. Do that. Again.”
“What was that, Romano?”
By this point, the slight shock Romano had felt when Spain had jumped up beside him had faded enough so that Romano could process the other country’s appearance.
“What the fuck are you wearing?”
Spain pointed to himself. “Me? This is my plan part two! These are the clothes I used to wear back when you lived with me. Do you remem-” Romano knew the drill by now.
“No. But why are there so many tears and… and is that blood?”
“Well, yeah… but the 1500s were a really messy time, you know that. This outfit went all over the world with me… I’m really glad I gave it to Veneziano to patch up a few years ago. Otherwise plan two would have been a total failure.”
Romano stopped himself from saying it was already a failure, much like Spain’s tights and floofy little pants and oh God, were those ruffles? “That…thing is from the 1500s? You mean, you had something commissioned to look like the clothes you used to wear?”
“Of course not. Why would I do that when the originals still fit?”
“You idiot. That should be in a museum then, or something. Not being worn in a hospital.” Romano peered at the bloodstains. “And who knows what sort of diseases it’s got all over it. Probably from you.”
“You can be really strange sometimes, Romano. Boss’s uniform really didn’t work? Well…” Spain rummaged around in the bag at his feet. “Then how about this!”
Something small, soft and green was shoved into Romano’s face. Luckily Spain missed his forehead, which was still quite tender. Romano wasn’t just in the hospital because he’d forgotten a bunch a freaks. Sheesh.
Definitely Memory Loss [9/?]
anonymous
February 26 2010, 06:41:46 UTC
Romano held the small little dress made of pale green fabric. It was spotless, unlike Spain’s roughed up attire, and even had tiny little embroidered detailing around the hem. Only those little flowers made of thread showed any aging at all. It was a pretty little thing, but Romano couldn’t help but dislike it. He didn’t know why; maybe it was something to do with his memories.
Spain pressed something else into Romano’s hands. “Here, Romano. This goes with it. There’s supposed to be a headscarf, too, but Veneziano couldn’t find it. It must have been misplaced over the years.” Spain stepped back, and proudly surveyed the half-country on the bed. He really looked like something was supposed to happen now.
“A little girl’s dress and apron? How are these supposed to be important to me? Do I have a sister you didn’t tell me about? A daughter?”
A flash of something crossed Spain’s face. “No, you don’t have a sister. And no children that I’m aware of, although after you left me, you didn’t visit for a really long time. So I suppose it’s possible. But…no. You don’t have a daughter.”
“Then who does this belong to?”
Spain brightened. So did the room (really, what was up with those lights?). “It’s yours!”
What.
“Only… I think this one actually belonged to your brother, because it’s got all that cute extra embroidery. And now that I think about it, I think I remember you setting fire to your dress back when you had your first growth spurt and didn’t have to wear it anymore. But it was basically the same. Isn’t it cute?”
“I used to wear dresses?”
“All the time, at my house.”
“So you made me wear dresses, when I was a kid.”
“…yes?”
“And I liked wearing them?”
“I wouldn’t use a word like ‘like’, exactly, but you wore them all the time, Romano. It was really, really cute to watch. And your brother wore one too, the one that you’re holding right now!”
Maybe he had hit himself on the head on purpose. Just to get amnesia and forget these morons. “What’s wrong with you? We’re not the same person. I don't remember anything, and even I can figure that out. God, I bet I have a shitload of complexes, all from you. How good do you think the shrinks are around here?”
“…Romano?”
“Take the costumes away and get out.”
“But-“
“Out.”
“But my clothes are-“
“Out”
Looking like a kicked puppy, or like a really dejected country who had just had one of his better ideas shot down and ridiculed by his most special friend, Spain slunk out of the room. Romano could tell the other country had really left by following the progression of dimmed, flickering hallway lights with his eyes. Weird.
After Spain had left, Romano threw the dress away from his bed. Stupid. These were probably supposed to be in a museum too, just like Spain’s outfit.
Which he had left the room still wearing.
...Were those jeans under the spare bed?
I think the other fill I’m doing is corrupting the tone of this story. But it has to get a little bit angsty before it can get a lot bit fuzzy. So. I promise more laughs will come!
Anon, you have no idea how excited I am every time I see this fic updated. D: I AM REALLY EXCITED RIGHT NOW. The dark tone doesn't ruin it at all for me. AT ALL.
Spain. SO. ADORABLE. I swear to god, Spain is the cutest character EVER. I hope he goes through a bit more hell for the sake of returning Romano's memories so that when he DOES remember, he'll have to make it up to Spaaaain <3
ROCK ON ANON. BECAUSE SHITTTT I love this fic to bits I could eat it and swallow it whole and kiss it and tuck it into bed and tell it nursery rhymes D:
Re: Definitely Memory Loss [9/?]
anonymous
February 26 2010, 10:55:05 UTC
Spain brightened. So did the room (really, what was up with those lights?).
Oh, Spain. You might just be the cutest thing in existence.
Romano is being a bit mean in this part, isn't it? But then again, I'd probably be a bit angry at his place too - the people around him haven't been exactly helpful.
Re: Definitely Memory Loss [9/?]
anonymous
February 26 2010, 17:34:17 UTC
Maybe he had hit himself on the head on purpose. Just to get amnesia and forget these morons. “What’s wrong with you? We’re not the same person. I don't remember anything, and even I can figure that out. God, I bet I have a shitload of complexes, all from you. How good do you think the shrinks are around here?” God, I'm loving Romano's inner monologue. And this dialogue is kind of brilliant; it's typically rude and blunt, but strangely ... honest, I guess? Romano is just so very .. the word "素直" comes to mind, but I don't know how to translate it. In this case, I mean "honest with AND about himself". Shocking!
Hm, care to share what that other fill is, though? I'm curious now! :D?
Author here
anonymous
February 27 2010, 01:38:44 UTC
Thanks! I've been trying to make sure that I write amnesiac!Romano and not just plain!Romano. A big difference between the two, I think, is a lack of some mind-to-mouth filters in the former. Whereas the latter would subconsciously feel the need to be defensive/cruel, amnesiac!Romano just reponds with his real emotions. For the most part. And Google Translate tells me that "素直" translates to 'straightforward', which sounds about right. Very shocking.
Weeeeeellll, I'll give you some clues: It's got all the characters and pairings that have appeared in this fill (plus 10 or so) and it's a really freaking long AU.
Re: Author here
anonymous
February 27 2010, 13:19:46 UTC
Weeeeeellll, I'll give you some clues: It's got all the characters and pairings that have appeared in this fill (plus 10 or so) and it's a really freaking long AU.
It's like a porn scavenger hunt! ♥ Actually, I think it's in my bookmarks! Perhaps! XD
“You people really think you’re countries, don’t you?” It was the first time Romano had spoken all day (minus a couple of expletives from before he hit his head).
Spain looked like he was going to join Veneziano in tears. Over the din of “Ve, but you’re a country too, brother!” and “You were my cute little henchman for centuries” Germany decided to be practical. It wasn’t a hard decision for him to make.
“Yes. We, including yourself, are the personifications of different nations. You are the personification of the southern half of Italy…”
Germany’s speech took an hour. By the end, Spain had stopped crying, Veneziano had stopped crying about his brother and had started crying tears of boredom, and Romano still hadn’t cursed at anyone yet. “…Do you have any questions?” Germany was starting to like this amnesiac version of Romano; it listened to him and didn’t throw heavy medical equipment at him.
“Sounds like a bunch of shit.” So much for not swearing.
“But I guess at least some of it has to be true, since Weepy over there looks like a carbon copy of me. But dumber.” Memories or no, Romano was still Romano. Germany took back the thought about liking him better this way. At least when the other had memories he didn’t keep Germany cooped up in some random Italian hospital while work piled up on his desk back in Berlin.
Spain took Germany’s resulting sigh as an indication to intervene. “Don’t be mean to your brother, Romano, it’s not very cute.”
Romano turned towards him. “So?”
That was the tamest reply Spain had ever gotten from using the c-word with Romano. He felt himself mentally boarding the train to the Twilight Zone that Germany had gotten on hours ago. “Uh, you shouldn’t do things that aren’t cute. Because you have such a big capacity for cuteness.”
Romano didn’t look convinced.
“Just listen to Boss, alright? That’ll be the fastest way to get better!”
Boss. The word sounded familiar to, well, he’d take their word for it that his name was Romano, although he wasn’t so sure about the whole country thing. “If we’re both supposed to be countries, then how are you my boss?”
“Weeell…”
Germany could smell the makings of an international crisis like a shark could smell a bloody fish carcass (From both far away and when he was underwater).
So I’m not either of the aboves, but the more the merrier, right? Here’s something quick and silly for you while you wait for the good stuff, OP. It’s about halfish done, and the rest of it should be up within the week, if it’s your cup of tea.
Reply
Reply
AUTHOR!ANON.
TAKE ME NOW.
Oh, wow. This is. This is my cup of tea, coffee, fruit-flavored beverage, soda. This is amazing, thank you! Ahh, and you did a good job of putting in humor while still being serious in parts. I wanna know, what will Spain doooo? Oh ho ho. I'm excited, anon, good work!
And, yes. The more, the happier. <33
Reply
I'm glad you like it so far! I was worried, because it felt like I was making it really silly, when the prompt has such an ability to inspire a story that's all long and involved and angsty romantic.
Spain will do silly things, and stupid things, and Spanish things, and other things that start with s (like South Italy, hm?).
Reply
Now that the fangirling is done with: thanks for telling this from Germany's POW (so hilarious and repressed, the poor thing), thanks for the whole Spanish population being ready for their country's hijinks (seriously, Antonio, your shoes?) and thanks for Veneziano being Veneziano (I have to admit, I'd be really jealous of him if I was Romano too).
And thanks for Romano too. Write more, please?
Reply
I mean, the way it's written it's just so absolutely funny. Not just funny one- liners. The whole thing is just funny, and yet you're so true to the characters -truer than 99% of fiction- that makes it even funnier.
No I won't stop saying the word "funny" because that's what it is.
That and a pure brilliant read.
Bravo, anon. Bra~vo.
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“Romano! Are you sure you don’t remember?”
“Yes.”
“…are you sure now?”
“Yes.”
This cycle had been on repeat for the past two hours, stopping only when Romano’s three visitors had left to get some sleep. At least, that was what he had thought they were going to do… until the one who said he was “The Kingdom of Spain! Don’t you remember?” had come back at midnight, towing a large suspicious sack behind him.
Maybe it was full of the bodies of other amnesiac countries he had annoyed to death. Romano couldn’t be sure, because as soon as Spain had re-entered the room, he had sat down on one corner of Romano’s bed and hadn’t stopped talking since.
“…and that’s why you should remember who you are, Romano. Doesn’t that make sense? Did it help you remember?”
“It’s one in the morning.”
Spain turned to the clock on the wall. Indeed, it was one-oh-two. And thirty-seven seconds. Thirty-eight. Thirty nine…
“Stop counting the seconds, you idiot.”
“…you called me an idiot. Does this mean you remember Boss, Romano?” Spain looked so hopeful.
“No, it means you’re a stupid fucking moron who counts out loud and won’t let me sleep!”
Now Spain just looked embarrassed. “Oh. I’ll be quiet then.”
“Good.” Romano pulled the covers over his head and resolved not to let anything bother him anymore. He was just going to ignore it all and go to sleep. Hopefully when he woke up, he would get to find out that this whole debacle had just been a ridiculous dream, which he could laugh about with his normal human friends and normal human neighbors and normal, really hot human girlfriend.
Romano’s sleep was dreamless.
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“Holy shit, what do you think you’re doing?!” It was Spain. Of course it was Spain. Had he even left during the night?
“Good morning to you too, Romano.”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“What?” Romano wasn’t sure anymore whether Spain’s default mode was ‘hopeful’ or ‘confused’.
“Romano.”
“No, no. I’m Spain. Sppppppaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiinnnnnn. You’re Romano, Romano.” That’s it, he had decided. Spain’s default mode wasn’t ‘hopeful’ and it wasn’t ‘confused’ either: it was just plain stupid.
“…I’ll speak slowly for you, so you can understand. Why do you keep ending every sentence with the word ‘Romano’?”
Spain looked a little bashful at that. “Oh, you noticed. I guess… I guess it’s because you don’t really look like you believe that that’s your name. I thought that if I said it often enough, it’d start sounding more familiar, and then maybe you’d remember yourself faster, Romano!”
Romano didn’t know what to say to that, so he ended up not saying anything. Instead, he tried to go back to sleep, because really, six in the morning? He hoped to God that he wasn’t the sort of person who got up this early on a regular basis. It didn’t feel like it, but it’d be less weird than being the personification of a country was. Half a country. Whatever.
But he had forgotten that Spain was a bastard. Romano made the mental note, if he ever got his memories back, to never forget the ones that reminded him that Spain was a bastard.
“Romano, you can’t go back to sleep now. I had to make sure these were the right books, so I was reading for the past five hours. It wouldn’t have taken me so long, but you know how rusty my Italian is.” Spain withdrew several thick books from the curious sack that had spent the night sitting at the foot of Romano’s bed. They had interesting titles; some were in Spanish, some in English. Most were in Italian. All of them were history books, and most of them were about Italy. Him.
Spain placed each one on Romano’s bed, within easy reach. He smiled when he pulled out the last two books. Romano could clearly see The History of Spain and Spain: A History in the other’s hands and had the remote thought that maybe he should be embarrassed.
“I got these at your house last evening, before I came back here. You own a lot more books than I was expecting, Romano. It took a little while to find the right ones… and I never expected you would have any about me!” It wasn’t even a remote thought anymore: Romano was officially embarrassed.
“Who gave you the right to go rooting through my things?”
“Your brother.”
“That doesn’t count!”
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“…and?”
At noon, he was really regretting asking that question. It was like a twisted version of story time, only Romano felt too old to have someone else read to him and the books had way too much text and lots of illustrations of people getting shot or stabbed. Sure, Spain hadn't been reading the whole time. He'd stopped once, when the doctors had come in to give Romano breakfast and check on his head wound.
That part had been great, actually, because Spain had spent those fifteen minutes hiding under the unoccupied bed on the other side of the room (“Sssh, Romano…I’m not exactly supposed to be here right now…”). Romano wasn’t sure why he hadn’t ratted Spain out to the doctors. After five and a half hours of lessons on his ‘past,’ Romano was starting to think that Spain’s insanity was contagious. Good thing he was already in a hospital, just in case it was fatal, too.
Spain closed the book he was holding and placed it on the table next to Romano’s bed. Two down…ten to go. “Well, Romano, any questions about the Habsburgs? Is any of this ringing any bells?”
The silence that descended as Spain waited for Romano’s reply was beautiful. Too bad Romano had to break it by tearing the idiot down a couple of notches.
“Why are you doing this?”
“We’ve both had really long histories. Sometimes I forget things too, and I don’t even have amnesia like you do, Romano. But now that you’ve heard about the things that happened to you again, maybe you’ll start getting your memories back. I really hope so…”
“Yeah, maybe that’ll work.” Spain looked surprised. Romano guessed that he didn’t agree with the other country all that often. “But why are you the one here telling me all of this stuff? Shouldn’t that be the other half of Italy’s job? Or couldn’t someone have just given me the books and let me read them myself? Later in the day?”
“…I guess that makes more sense. But you’re really important to me, so I wanted to do everything I could to help you remember.”
“What, you wanted me to remember the three hundred years when you were my overlord? Really? Are you hoping I’ll remember how much I dislike being ruled by somebody else?”
Now Spain looked sad… and was it Romano or did the hospital lights just get dimmer? “They weren’t all bad times. Sometimes you had fun at my house, Romano, I know you did! You never wanted to say it, but there had to be times when you liked being there. I would have been able to tell if you didn’t.”
Romano scoffed. “Sure. You know what you can do with your house-” he was cut off by the sound of the meal cart rolling down the hallway. “Never mind. Just get back under your bed, stupid. The doctors are coming back.”
The other country looked at Romano for a long moment. It was actually kind of creepy how serious he was being, but before Romano could think about it further, Spain wordlessly dived underneath the spare bed.
This got longer and less humorous than it was supposed to be. Ah well. Some more will come later tonight, and then it’ll probably finish early this weekend.
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Wait.
Where was that rustling coming from?
Romano would later swear that the noise he made was a manly grunt of surprise, and not the high pitched squeal of terror produced only by awkward teenage boys whose little sisters have saved over every ‘Call of Duty’ slot in the Wii, in order to make room for ‘My Ballet Studio.’ Spain didn’t notice the noise, so there was no one to challenge Romano’s claim, except for every other person with functional hearing within a two kilometer radius of the hospital.
“Did you know how hard it is to get pants off and tights on when you’re trapped underneath a bed?”
“Never. Do that. Again.”
“What was that, Romano?”
By this point, the slight shock Romano had felt when Spain had jumped up beside him had faded enough so that Romano could process the other country’s appearance.
“What the fuck are you wearing?”
Spain pointed to himself. “Me? This is my plan part two! These are the clothes I used to wear back when you lived with me. Do you remem-” Romano knew the drill by now.
“No. But why are there so many tears and… and is that blood?”
“Well, yeah… but the 1500s were a really messy time, you know that. This outfit went all over the world with me… I’m really glad I gave it to Veneziano to patch up a few years ago. Otherwise plan two would have been a total failure.”
Romano stopped himself from saying it was already a failure, much like Spain’s tights and floofy little pants and oh God, were those ruffles? “That…thing is from the 1500s? You mean, you had something commissioned to look like the clothes you used to wear?”
“Of course not. Why would I do that when the originals still fit?”
“You idiot. That should be in a museum then, or something. Not being worn in a hospital.” Romano peered at the bloodstains. “And who knows what sort of diseases it’s got all over it. Probably from you.”
“You can be really strange sometimes, Romano. Boss’s uniform really didn’t work? Well…” Spain rummaged around in the bag at his feet. “Then how about this!”
Something small, soft and green was shoved into Romano’s face. Luckily Spain missed his forehead, which was still quite tender. Romano wasn’t just in the hospital because he’d forgotten a bunch a freaks. Sheesh.
“Is that a dress?”
It was.
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Spain pressed something else into Romano’s hands. “Here, Romano. This goes with it. There’s supposed to be a headscarf, too, but Veneziano couldn’t find it. It must have been misplaced over the years.” Spain stepped back, and proudly surveyed the half-country on the bed. He really looked like something was supposed to happen now.
“A little girl’s dress and apron? How are these supposed to be important to me? Do I have a sister you didn’t tell me about? A daughter?”
A flash of something crossed Spain’s face. “No, you don’t have a sister. And no children that I’m aware of, although after you left me, you didn’t visit for a really long time. So I suppose it’s possible. But…no. You don’t have a daughter.”
“Then who does this belong to?”
Spain brightened. So did the room (really, what was up with those lights?). “It’s yours!”
What.
“Only… I think this one actually belonged to your brother, because it’s got all that cute extra embroidery. And now that I think about it, I think I remember you setting fire to your dress back when you had your first growth spurt and didn’t have to wear it anymore. But it was basically the same. Isn’t it cute?”
“I used to wear dresses?”
“All the time, at my house.”
“So you made me wear dresses, when I was a kid.”
“…yes?”
“And I liked wearing them?”
“I wouldn’t use a word like ‘like’, exactly, but you wore them all the time, Romano. It was really, really cute to watch. And your brother wore one too, the one that you’re holding right now!”
Maybe he had hit himself on the head on purpose. Just to get amnesia and forget these morons. “What’s wrong with you? We’re not the same person. I don't remember anything, and even I can figure that out. God, I bet I have a shitload of complexes, all from you. How good do you think the shrinks are around here?”
“…Romano?”
“Take the costumes away and get out.”
“But-“
“Out.”
“But my clothes are-“
“Out”
Looking like a kicked puppy, or like a really dejected country who had just had one of his better ideas shot down and ridiculed by his most special friend, Spain slunk out of the room. Romano could tell the other country had really left by following the progression of dimmed, flickering hallway lights with his eyes. Weird.
After Spain had left, Romano threw the dress away from his bed. Stupid. These were probably supposed to be in a museum too, just like Spain’s outfit.
Which he had left the room still wearing.
...Were those jeans under the spare bed?
I think the other fill I’m doing is corrupting the tone of this story. But it has to get a little bit angsty before it can get a lot bit fuzzy. So. I promise more laughs will come!
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Spain. SO. ADORABLE. I swear to god, Spain is the cutest character EVER. I hope he goes through a bit more hell for the sake of returning Romano's memories so that when he DOES remember, he'll have to make it up to Spaaaain <3
ROCK ON ANON. BECAUSE SHITTTT I love this fic to bits I could eat it and swallow it whole and kiss it and tuck it into bed and tell it nursery rhymes D:
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Oh, Spain. You might just be the cutest thing in existence.
Romano is being a bit mean in this part, isn't it? But then again, I'd probably be a bit angry at his place too - the people around him haven't been exactly helpful.
Can't wait for the fluff!
Captcha sez: 'but smart'. Uhmm.
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Hm, care to share what that other fill is, though? I'm curious now! :D?
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Weeeeeellll, I'll give you some clues: It's got all the characters and pairings that have appeared in this fill (plus 10 or so) and it's a really freaking long AU.
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It's like a porn scavenger hunt! ♥ Actually, I think it's in my bookmarks! Perhaps! XD
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