AN: hey guys! so, I was writing, finishing the Valentine's Day one-shot (maybe more) when I started to look through my old binder, and I sound this. It's really short, probably a poem, and of course, Spamano, but I thought hey why not post it on here? So, it's also really old, and may not be that great, but it's really depressing too. So, just going to say, if self-harm triggers you, LEAVE! It's not very graphic like my other one-shot "You're Perfect Lovi" but still. I edited it a bit, so that way it made sense, and made it longer so it could be a one-shot, but besides that, everything is the same. So, here it is.

Pain was all Romano felt. He was kicked, punched with everyone's words, and he never felt like he was good enough. All of the countries told to be someone else, to be like his brother, Italy. He cursed at the world, and fought back, but slowly started to believe everyone's words. How his grandfather Rome said that he should be nicer? Probably the truth, when his trainer said that he was a weakling? Yeah, that was true too. What everyone said about him needing to be more like his brother? To be cuter, kinder, smarter, to stop cussing, cook better, stop bothering everyone? Now NONE of those were lies.

So, he thought he would do the rest of the world a favor. He started out small, being the coward he thought he was. Romano made small, individual cuts on his arms, nothing too deep, and no more than four. He cleaned them, and felt relief unlike anything he had ever felt before, and eventually fell into a deep, restless sleep. As the months passed by, and Romano grew deeper into depression, as did the cuts that he made on his arms. Then, he started exploring, making cuts on his thighs, shoulders, anything with a patch of skin that wasn't damaged. He actually took great pride in his scars, looking at them with admiration when he was done. He simply did not care about life anymore, it was all pointless anyway to Southern Italy.

So, he stopped talking to the one friend he had, Canada. They were great friends, since they both knew the pain of being shadowed by their own brothers, and had a lot in common. Romano stopped talking to his brother, and his old caretaker, Spain. Pretty sad when you look at this logically, they were the only countries who cared about him, and actually gave a shit. At least, in Southern Italy's opinion anyway. Now, Romano knew that it wasn't his brother's fault for stealing the spot light, that was just simply how he was. Italy was a social butterfly, and made friends easily, he had a huge heart that no one could turn down. Romano knew that it was his own fault for being this way, he chose to be a dick, and shoved everyone away, choosing to be alone. The way he liked it.

Italy however, tried to get his brother to talk to him, figuring that he could help in some way. But, Romano shut everyone out, including Canada and Spain. He would rather live in his misery by himself, then let his family help him. So, he continued to cut everywhere possible, but always had a special connection with his arm, cutting there the deepest. One day, he went to deep, but he this didn't even shock him, quite the contrary actually. Instead, he felt a sense of relieve, knowing that he wouldn't have to worry anymore. Italy would be fine without him, he could run the country on his own, and even if he couldn't, all of the other nations would help and support him. Canada would find a new friend, and besides, he knew that Prussia liked his friend, so he would do anything to help him through this. Spain...would move on, he knew that the country loved him, and to be honest, he loved him back. But they were both to shy, and embarrassed to do anything about it.

Besides, Spain had France and Prussia to help him get over this, and Belgium seemed like a nice girl, and Romano knew that they hung out sometimes, so maybe they could fall in love. Everyone else, would just forget about him as soon as the funeral was over, who would remember half a nation anyway? So, as he was about to drift into the sweet arms of death, Romano welcoming it with a slight smile, someone pulled him back. This someone had brown, curly hair, with emerald eyes that shined with tears, and a hear-breaking expression on his face. Spain, Southern Italy's confused mind registered. Before he could think, or say anything, he passed out due to blood loss.

Spain cried, and held Romano's body in his arms, while he called for an ambulance. Five minutes later, The country heard blaring sirens outside of the house, and could see red and blue lights. So, the doctors ran inside, picked up Romano's almost lifeless body onto a gurney, and asked if Spain wanted to ride along in the vehicle. Spain quickly nodded, and hopped next to the love of his life. One of the doctors asked Spain for his name and the name of the person beside him, and he replied, saying that his name was Antonio Cardieo, and that the other was named Lovnio Vargas. The doctor nodded, and asked if Antonio would be willing to donate some blood, seeing as Lovnio was barley hanging on. He nodded again, since his blood type was O, and the doctor injected a needle into his left arm, drawing the blood into a bag. This process went one for a couple more minutes, until they finally got to the hospital, and took the bags of blood, and Romano into the hospital.

A nearby nurse helped Spain into a seat, and gave him a sandwich, and drink to bring his blood sugar back up, while he waited. He called his two best friends first, telling them about everything that happened with tears falling down his face. They both quickly called all of the other nations, and also let Italy know, and everyone hopped the quickest planes to get to the hospital Spain was at. The first to show up, were Italy, France, and Prussia, who ran to Spain as soon as they saw him. Italy started crying when Spain told him personally what happened, when everyone showed up, demanding to be told exactly what happened. So, he re-told the story, Canada crying on Prussia's shoulder, afraid that his best friend wouldn't make it, everyone looking guilty at not paying attention to Romano's habits. So, together they waited, all of the countries telling funny and happy stories about Romano, until the doctor showed up.

Everyone at once asked if Romano as okay, and if they could visit him. The doctor waited for everyone to quiet down, and said that yes, he was okay, but needed his rest. However, one person at a time could visit him, but if he awoke, to alert him or one of the nurses. So, they allowed Italy, to go into the room they were holding his brother in. He didn't come out for a while, and even though the nations understood that he wanted to spend time with his brother, they wanted to see Romano too damn it. So, Italy finally came out with a smile, looked at Spain, and told him that he could go in next. So with his nerves flying, and his hands twisting against each other, he walked into his love's room. Romano was found sleeping peacefully, his arm bandaged up, an IV in the other. Spain walked up to his bed side, and took his hand, sighing sadly. After a couple of minutes, Romano's eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Spain, a wave of confusion crossing his face. From the bright lights, he swore that he was in heaven, but when he looked at Spain, he knew that he had survived.

Before he could even speak, a pair of lips found his. Surprised, but secretly pleased, Romano's eyes fluttered shut again, and enjoyed the kiss while it lasted. Due to lack of breath, Southern Italy broke off of Spain's lips, shocked at the tears that were now drifting down his face. He asked why the bastard was crying, that he should be happy that he almost died, and throwing a party with everyone else to celebrate. Spain's silent crying turned into balling in pain at the harsh words Romano was using. He looked at his love, and told him that he almost died while he was unconscious. That everyone was worried sick, and had flown all they here to make sure that he was okay. He begged Romano to believe that all of the nations care for him, and love him. But that if he simply couldn't, than to believe that he did. Romano looked down at his arm with the cuts and sighed. He replied, saying that he knew now, and not to cry anymore. But, with those word out of his mouth, he started to cry as well. Out of happiness because people did care, and that Spain loved him. For his brother, for making him worry, and finally, for himself. For all of the pain he had gone through, the doubts that had plagued his mind for years. Even though today was the most horrible day for everyone, most of all Spain, they were both happy. Because they finally got to hold each other, and love each other, and know that the love was returned. They got to be with each other, even if only for a moment.

AN: so, what did you guys think? Great thing to post before Valentine's Day right?! So, I have depression, and when it hits, it's really bad. So I just sing or write to get it all out before I do something I'll regret. But, the one-shot will be posted tomorrow at some point, because I have a concert tomorrow too :) Also, I'm almost done writing the first chapter to a multi-chapter fanfiction! so yeah, expect more fanfiction soon! Remember, if anyone needs someone to talk to, message me, and i'll help. So, until the next story, peace!

HetaliaAndSpamanoFangirl