HELLO! Ok, now if you've seen the last chapter of my other story, Broken Wings of the Fallen, you would know about my little idea of writing you all a one-shot in celebration of getting 200 views of the story. Welp, this is NOT the one-shot I am promising, this is just a one-shot I HAD TO WRITE NOW because I got the idea and it wouldn't get out of my head and I couldn't wait to get started on it. So don't you fret, I have another one-shot ready for when I get 200 views on BWF(and hopefully feedback!).

In the meantime, enjoy this little Spamano one-shot that will be most likely a killing for the feels. ;-;

Warning: Do not own Hetalia or the characters Spain and Romano. (I WISH!) Do not own the classic lullaby "Hush-a-Bye". Yandere-Romano is present, and there are character deaths so if you don't like that stuff I suggest to not read it.

...

"Romano, I aired your covers out for you!~" Spain cried to young little Romano, who huffed to his bed and jumped in it, not even thanking the older man for being so caring and generous. But Spain did not mind it so much anymore; he knew his little Roma was actually good at heart. He just had a funny way of showing it.

"Whatever, I'm going to sleep now! And buonanotte, you jerk-bastard." Romano mumbled the last part as he closed his eyes and turned away from Spain, who was standing by the door.

"Buenas noches!~" Spain gently closed the door, but not before taking one last peek in the room to see his cute little henchman fast asleep. Smiling warmly, he finally closed the door all the way and trudged back to his own room for the night.

However, it was only an hour later when a shriek could be heard from Romano's room. Fast as lightening, Spain bolted from his bed into his henchman's room with his battle axe, fearing of Romano's safety. He slammed the door open and wildly glanced around, but started to calm himself when he realized there was no one who was going to hurt his little Roma. But when Romano started screaming from his bed once more (most likely at the sight of the large battle axe), Spain got worried again. The older man dropped the axe and rushed to the boy's bed, rubbing small circles on his back and using words of comfort until Romano was calm enough to explain what happened.

"Are you ok, Romanito? What happened?" Spain asked gently, but concern was very visible in his eyes.

Romano, who was still hiccupping and crying, simply shook his head and buried his face into his hands. The boy didn't want to tell Spain about his terrible nightmare, in which Spain had abandoned Romano for someone better, for fear of the older man thinking he was weak, and possibly make fun of him. So the two just sat there for a while, until Romano had completely calmed down yet still had his hands covering his face.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it, Roma?" Spain asked once more, taking Romano's hands and putting them away from his face. Romano just looked at the bedspread, his usual scowl softened to a sad, lost expression, and shook his head again. It broke the old country's heart to see his little boy so upset, then an idea came to him.

"How about I sing you a lullaby, mi pequeno tomate?" Spain chirped. Romano's face turned bright red, and looked as if he was about to protest, when suddenly his expression of anger was replaced with an expression of fear, then of longing, then it just disappeared back to his usual scowl.

"Fine..." Romano grumbled, although it was so faint and so unlike his character that Spain was wondering if he had imagined it.

"W-What did you say?" Spain stuttered, slightly gaping at his henchman now.

"I said FINE, you jerk." Romano growled, huffing and covering his crimson face with his conveniently tomato-shaped pillow.

'Oh how cute!~' Spain cooed in thought, just wanting to reach over and hug his little henchman but knew better. Smiling, Spain scooted closer to Romano and hesitantly started to smooth his hair. When the boy miraculously didn't pull away, Spain continued to play with his hair (careful not to touch the dreaded hair curl) and began to softly sing:

"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry...

Go to sleep, my little Roma...

When you wake, you shall have cake...

And all the pretty little horses..."

As Spain continued to sing the soothing lullaby, Romano became sleepier and sleepier until his eyes finally closed. When Spain noticed this, he smiled once more and leaned over to kiss his boy on the head. Then he got up and made his way back to the door.

"Goodnight, mi tomate." He whispered softly, closing the door behind him and heading back to his own bedroom.

And as Romano rested in his bed, a single tear trickled through his closed eyes and down his cheek. "Don't you leave me again, you bastard." He cried softly in the night.

...

Romano sat alone in the darkness of his room, huddled in the corner with his head buried in his hands in the same manner as on that awful, yet beautiful night that happened so long ago. Except that this time, there was no warm-hearted Spaniard to sing to him. Also like that night, Romano had that same, terrible nightmare. Except that this time as well, it was haunting him when he was wide awake, too. Every single time that someone else would even speak to Spain, sometimes even flirt with him, Romano had wished that he could've killed them right then and there. And the fact that he was even thinking that scared him. But it didn't scare him nearly as much as the fear of his nightmare coming true. Although, the fear really shouldn't even be there anymore.

Spain was already technically his; they've been dating for four months now. And Romano definitely didn't doubt Spain's obvious loyalty to him. So what exactly was that feeling that Romano got whenever someone else even glanced his lover's way? Fear? Sure, but there was something else that overpowered it. Anger? No, it wasn't the Spaniard's fault for being so oblivious to all of the attention he received. Maybe a little irritated, sure, but not angry.

Frustrated. He was so... unbelievably frustrated. He wished, more than anything, that the two of them could simply fly away, on the backs of angel's wings, to another world, one where only the two of them existed. If only the other ones... his brother, whom he always felt inferior to, the one who even Spain already almost left him for... Spain's idiot friends, France and Prussia, whom he always hated because they were way too close, too touchy-feely towards Spain... Belgium, the nation he had sworn for the longest time was in love with Spain, the one whom he feared the most would take his true love away next to Feliciano... if only they could all just disappear; burn out and vanish from this world like dying embers. Dying... yes, that was it... he wished them dead.

Anyone who dared to try and take away his love, his life source from him should just die. They were all terrible, disgusting people. Every. Single. Fucking. One of them. Except for his beloved. The one man who's smile could bring his quivering knees to the ground with its power. The one man who's sinfully beautiful eyes of emerald could burn up his insides from the fiery soul that danced inside of them. The one man, the one person that gave two-shits about him; the only person who loved him unconditionally. If anyone dared to try and take his treasure away from him... well...

Romano was terrified. He knew he couldn't go on much longer holding in these frazzled, chaotic thoughts and feelings that were so powerful now that it seemed that they were about to swallow him whole, devour his soul and spirit, and replacing it with someone, some monster, that was screaming, clawing, and tearing at his beaten up and bloodied mind. 'Let me out!' It would cry. 'Hurry, before it's too late! Before he leaves you... and you'll be all alone.' It would sneer. But nowadays, the voice would become aggressive, screaming at him, tormenting him until it got to the point where it would overwhelm him, and he would break down screaming and crying out broken sobs that would echo throughout the lonely night. 'No one would ever be there to sing you a lullaby again.'

And now, at that moment, Romano had locked himself in his room, turned off all of the lights, and just sat there screaming and wailing in the darkness. Alone. Like he deserved to be. He knew how selfish he was, he knew how crazy he was, yet the monster kept getting stronger and stronger every day... and he didn't want anyone to be around him when he finally let it take over. He deserved to be caged in like an animal. Romano knew that he was always seen as quick to surrender... but this was a battle that he would fight for until the very end.

"Lovino?" A shaky, nervous voice spoke on the other side of the door. Romano recognized this voice as his brother's, and began to panic again. His brother should not be here right now. Shit, the monster was surfacing again. He could feel it slowly beginning to awaken once more, sneaking up towards him like a predator ready to attack its prey. He imagined the monster had the voice of his own beloved Antonio, and he could feel its cold, dead hands crawling all over him as his brother's faint voice tried to speak with him.

"Lovino, I don't know what's going with you, but if you don't open the door right now, I'm getting help." The tone of Feliciano's voice was so different that it temporarily shocked Romano back to reality. However, the monster began to toy with him once more.

"Fratello, please open the door now." 'He just wants an excuse to call Antonio. He doesn't give a shit about you.'

"Lovino, please, I love you, you're my brother and I'm scared for you." 'LIES. All lies. You're alone in this world. No one to help you and no one to heal you. Except for your beloved.'

"ROMANO LOVINO VARGAS! O-OPEN THE DOOR NOW BEFORE I CALL ANTONIO." 'Hush-a-bye...'

Romano opened the door.

'Don't you cry...'

Romano grinned a madman's grin, before holding up the shiny silver knife he had in his right hand.

'Go to sleep, my little angel.'

The killing was quick, but not painless. Romano took out the knife from his brother's chest and walked out into the cold night air, the monster in his head telling him that he didn't even feel a thing... and he began to believe it. Each time that night that his silver little friend was driven into the hearts of those who have betrayed him, he believed it more and more. They were the monsters. No one would ever take his guardian angel away from him. Ever.

...

"Romano, mi amor, what are you DOING?!" ...

Then there was silence... for the first time in a long time.

Except for a faint, cold, broken voice that sang the same song over and over again. Like an abandoned record player.

'Hush-a-bye..." He softly sang, stroking his love's blood-stained hair.

'Don't you cry...' Tears trickled down his cheeks as he closed those eyes that once held the passion of the sun itself.

'Go to sleep, mi amore.'

No one would ever take his love away from him now. But he wasn't his just yet.

Romano wished, more than anything, that the two of them could simply fly away, on the backs of angel's wings, to another world, one where only the two of them existed. As the silver blade was being driven into his chest, his blood intermingling with his now-dead love, he knew that his wish could finally be fulfilled.