A/N: I made this story thinking that Romano would be in a prepubescent stage. Also, since the evil trio of Spain, Prussia, and France are a good team, they will on occasions either stay at each others houses, or fight as a team in this story.

Also, Romano is wearing that pinkish dress and apron that he wore when he was chibi-Romano

Romano sat in the bay view window seat and anxiously glanced back and forth at the clock. It was now 9:34 pm. Where is he? he thought biting his lip, He promised that he would be here by now.

Romano was at Spain's house and, as per usual, was left at home to tend to things when another issue came up or whenever Spain wanted to travel overseas for a decent trade. Romano was a terrible house sitter and often times only made a mess worse but it never seemed to bother Spain. He would always just smile happily and help Romano put things back into place. This time though, it had seemed like a battle. Romano remembered that just a week ago with Spain in his usual pirate clothing and battle axe, as he walked out the door said "I promise I won't take long Romano, I should be back in a week, then we should be able to relax for a nice long while, maybe even harvest a few tomatoes." Behind him, Prussia and France were gathering the rest of their supplies for the journey ahead.

"Why can't I come with you though?" he had protested. Spain didn't bother to respond to this. Instead he ruffled his hair and ran off down the dirt path to the house. Romano stood in the doorway with a mixed expression of worry and sadness but before Spain was out of sight he turned around and yelled back, "It'll a only a week. I promise!"

Romano glanced at the clock again. 11:16 pm. He had been thinking so much that he lost track of time but he was tired. Too tired to keep his eyes open anymore. But I have...to see him... was the last thing that flowed through Romano's head as he leaned against the glass of the window and fell asleep as the first drops of rain began to fall in the night.

Romano was awoken 3 hours later by the sound of a door slamming shut. It took him a second to get his thoughts together but when he did he immediately came to a conclusion. Spain's home! He jumped out of the window seat and ran towards the front door, his dress trailing behind him. When Romano saw him though, his heart sank in an ocean of despair. Spain was looking breathless and was leaning on his battle axe for support. His clothes were slashed and worn out and beneath each cut was a bleeding scar. He was drenched from head to toe and his shoes were muddy from walking home in the rain last night.

Romano felt like crying but he couldn't. He had to take care of Spain. He slowly walked over to Spain. It seemed that Spain still had consciousness because he then looked up at Romano. Romano stopped in his tracks, a bit startled. At first Spain's face looked sad, and quite lonely, but then he smiled. This made Romano sick.

Why do you always have to fight? Romano thought but rather than saying what was on his mind, he said fighting back tears "Your hurt. Why can't you fight any better you idiot?"

Spain just smiled. "Good to see you too, Romano" but his voice was no more than a whisper. He reached up to caress Romano's cheek, but instead he dropped his battle axe leaving A smear of his blood on Romano's face and crumpling on the floor in a heap.

"Spain." Romano whispered and he felt cold tears begin to fall down his cheeks. As he went to wipe the tears from his face, he wiped off some blood. His vision blurred and his eyes bulged as he began to hallucinate about pools of blood everywhere. He knelt down slowly and cradled his legs in his arms tucked his head away. he rocked himself back and forth and slowly whispered "Everything's going to be okay." just like Spain would do when Romano got too worried about something.

Pull yourself together! his conscience yelled. That's right. Romano thought, picking his head up. Spain is still hurt.

He lifted himself up off the floor and shuffled closer to Spain. He knelt down beside him and shook his shoulder. "Spain, wake up."

Spain didn't respond. He just lay there, motionless except for his breathing which sounded like a struggle between his lungs and his throat to get air in.

"Spain. Please. Wake up." there was still no response and another tear fell down Romano's cheek. He didnt bother to to wipe it away. He took one of Spain's hands in his and put it to his face. It was cold. More blood smeared a handprint onto Romano's face, but he didn't take notice. Instead he lifted one of Spain's arms and proceeded to try and lift the man. He was only able to stand up to a crouching position but it would have to do. He dragged Spain over to the couch, the stench from Spain's clothes sickening him, and lifted his torso onto it. Then he pulled each of his legs up until Spain was fully sprawled on the couch.

Romano wiped a drop of sweat from his brow and looked at Spain. His clothes were splattered with his own blood. Romano took a couple of deep breaths. He couldn't stand seeing his loved ones hurt. In the end he concluded that take off Spain's wet clothes before he caught a cold and treat his wounds.

Romano went into Spain's room and got some bandage cloths and rags. When he returned he began to strip the pirate's clothes until he was just a scratched up man in his breeches. Romano blushed a little. This is so embarrassing. he thought.

He began by bandaging some scars and bruises on Spain's arms and legs. He also put a sling around Spain's right arm which he was pretty sure was either badly bruised or broken. Then he gently propped him up with pillows so that he could get the long slice on his chest and abdomen and wrapped his head in case of any damage.

He lay Spain back onto the couch and stepped back to make sure that he didn't miss anything. It looked like he was all patched up and fine but then suddenly he noticed something. Spain's forehead was covered in sweat and it looked like he was wincing. Oh no. he thought. He must have a fever.

He walked closer to Spain and leaned his head down to touch foreheads. At first it was wet, but then Romano felt the intense heat of Spain's fever. So warm. he thought. He closed his eyes as to try and ease Spain's pain or comfort him. He slowly backed away and picked up one of the rags. He walked into the kitchen and dipped the rag into some cool water from the well, then rung it out so it didn't drip too much on the floor. Romano folded the rag while walking back into the living room and placing it on Spain's forehead. Spain stopped wincing and smiled a little.

"Spain?" Romano called hopefully but it seemed that he was still unconscious. Romano smiled anyway, but only a little. Then he grabbed the afghan from the ledge of the couch and spread it over Spain.

Romano was exhausted. He plopped himself down in the armchair next to the couch. It was early in the morning and he was dizzy from all the crying. He looked to the unconscious Spaniard on the couch and then to the pile of soggy and torn clothing on a pile next to him. He sighed.

The clothes would still be there. Plus, I'm only going to close my eyes for a little while. He glanced up at the clock. 3:47 am. He curled up into a ball in the couch and closed his eyes. I'll only be asleep for about 10 minutes. Then I'll deal with the clothes. With that thought, he drifted off into a deep sleep leaving a somewhat peaceful air of silence in the house.

A/N: hoped you liked it! Spamano is my favorite couple so this was really fun. Please review. Next chapter should be out next week!