Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia
I'm trying to keep this whole story historically accurate, but I'm only human so it might not all be perfect!
This story will contain the following pairings (but they're really not going to be a very big part of the story) : GerIta, AusHun, sort of PruFra, and possibly POSSIBLY Spamano.
This story will also contain cross dressing! (Just a warning...)
Flashback in italics. Anyways, on with the story (in Lovino's POV):
"What were you doing in town, anyway?" Bella asks. She caught me sneaking around the market, so now she's taking me back to that giant, stupid, empty house. We're sitting in the coach of her fancy-ass carriage, and she keeps talking. "You know, Lovino, if the policía see you, they won't let you stay with Antonio."
"With…" I echo. Stay with Antonio. How can I be staying with him if he's not here? If he hasn't been here in four years? I'm not staying with Antonio. I'm staying with a memory. Now, you see, there are a few reasons why I'm staying 'with' Antonio; and why I can't stay with him if the policía see me.
Here's why I'm staying with him: my parents are dead. My mother died after giving birth to me and my twin fratello, Feliciano. Only days after that, my father dropped dead of an unknown cause. Nonno decided to take me and my fratello in, and he took care of us for three years. We were doing alright, really. I mean, Nonno liked Feli more than me, that was obvious. But we were still okay. It was actually starting to look like me and Feliciano might have a stable home, but then Nonno just disappeared. And when I say 'disappeared' I mean, like disappeared into thin air. No one knows what happened to him. Naturally, Feliciano and I were put up for adoption. But apparently the idiota who put us up for adoption forgot to mention we were twins. Basically, instead of one going with the other like twins should be, instead of us being the package of Lovino and Feliciano Vargas, we were set up to be adopted separately. And, of course, Feliciano got adopted before me. I haven't seen him since then. Haven't seen my twin-my 'other half'-in eleven years.
Anyway, reason why I can't be seen by the policia: I was adopted by a young, smiley Spaniard with the name of Mr. Aarón Garcia. Bright eyed, energetic, and enthusiastic; Mr. Garcia was a perfect person to adopt a child. However, the Mr. Garcia who had adopted me was actually Antonio Fernandez Carriedo; a pirate using a fake name. Okay, I know that sounds bad: a pirate adopting a little boy. It definitely sounded bad to the policia when they figured out what happened (that's why they can't see me: they'll take me away from Antonio if they do.) But it's really not bad. Antonio dropped the entire pirate thing before he adopted me. And if Antonio hadn't adopted me, I would probably still be in that fucking adoption center thingy. Let's just say I'm not always the most pleasant person, so the fact that someone as caring as the tomato bastard came along was a really, really good thing (even though I absolutely hate admitting it.)
"Uhm…" Bella waves her hand to get my attention, and I blink a couple times. Wake myself up from that trip down memory lane. "Lovi, I-" Bella begins talking again, and I clench my teeth. No one calls me Lovi. Only Antonio, and that was when he was still here.
"Don't fucking call me that, Bella," I snap. Honestly, I didn't mean for it to sound so harsh. Didn't mean to curse at her. I never mean to. Not at Bella. But I always do, because she refuses to leave Antonio out of any of our conversations. She knows I don't do well when I think about him; a mix of emotions all come at once and I can't ever control what I say or do. He did just up and leave me here all alone. It's not like I choose to hate him and miss him at the same time. But Bella is always stuck with it. Poor Bella who I treat like shit even though she's been my saving grace since Antonio left. I don't deserve her kindness. She shouldn't have to deal with me. But for whatever reason, she does.
I've known Bella for…probably as long as I've known Antonio. So that's eleven years. Bella and Antonio became friends after Antonio decided to end the pirate life. The two of them were always so damn cheery before he left. I swear, those two could've outshone the fucking sun if they wanted to.
You know, it was probably Antonio. He probably made her promise to look out for me while he was gone. I'm a burden. But Bella always keeps a promise. I suppose that's why he picked her in particular to look out for me. Of course, she wouldn't have to look out for me if the stupid tomato bastard hadn't left. For some reason, Antonio makes the dumbest decisions-like leaving-but then he turns around and makes the smartest ones-like picking Bella to check up on me.
Speaking of Bella, she's looking right at me. Staring, really. Her green eyes are full of worry and sadness. I turn my head and stare out the window so I don't have to see that sad look on her face. I can never stand it anymore. It reminds me of the day Antonio told us he was going out to sea…
"B-but…Antonio, I thought you said you were done with that life!" Bella says. I'm sitting in her lap, looking up at her. Sadness fills her emerald eyes, but she keeps her facial expression calm. Strong. "You said you were done being a," she hushes her voice, "pirate!"
"I know, I know," Antonio says and rubs his tired eyes. He hasn't slept in days. I would know, I've always slept in the same bed as him. For the past few nights he just lies there, staring up at the ceiling. Every time I would look over at him I could see the moonlight reflect in his wide-open eyes.
"But Arthur needs another ship…" he continues slowly. I look over at him, tears brimming my eyes. "And I made a promise I intend on keeping." I blink and the trears spill down onto my cheeks. Does this mean he's going to leave me here? He's going to leave me all alone?
One of the carriage wheels hits a bump and jolts me out of my memory. I blink and look into the wide tomato fields outside. From the little window in the carriage it looks like they go on forever, but I know they don't. I've been out in those fields enough times to know that they don't. But there's still a lot of them. Enough for a million pasta dishes, I bet.
Pasta. Feliciano loved pasta when we were little. That's one of the few things I remember about him: his ability to repeatedly say the word 'pasta' without ever getting sick of it. I would get sick of hearing it before he would ever sick of saying it. I remember once in the adoption place, he said it one too many times and the supervisor lady threatened to smack him. He had started to cry even though she hadn't smacked him yet. I had to hug him and kiss him on the fucking cheek just to get him to stop.
When the tomato bastard adopted me, the adoption place had given him a file about my brother. Because, you know, that totally makes up for the fact that we got separated. Not. Anyways, the file had the names of the people who had adopted him. What were their names again? Che palle, I can't remember. Whatever. I can find the file when I get back to the house.
"You used to love being called that…" Bella says quietly. I whip my head around; what the hell is she talking about? I look at her quizzically, trying to remember. We hit another bump. What, is the coachman trying to throw us off the road? Really, I've half the mind to tell him how to—
My thought's cut off by yet another bump, but this one somehow makes me I remember what Bella had said: "You used to love being called that." She's talking about my nickname: Lovi. And, yeah. I did love being called that. Along with mi tomate, and Roma. But I only loved it when Antonio said it. It's not like I smiled every time he said it, though. Usually I responded with a glare or a phrase such as, "shut up." Hell, I'd still respond like that if he were here now.
"That was before the damn tomato bastard left," I hiss. My eyes narrow into a glare as I speak. "If he ever decides to drag his ass back home…" I trail off, not really knowing where I was going with that sentence. I look back out the window at the sea of tomatoes. Who even needs that many tomatoes, anyway?
"He'll come home, Lovino. He promised." I don't believe her. After four years of waiting, I've learned not to listen to her. Learned not to get my hopes up when she says he'll come back soon. Learned not to listen when she talked about new ships coming in the bay. I learned to block out anything and everything to do with Antonio. All because I know I can't handle him being gone much longer. I've almost given up any hope of him coming back. The only thing keeping me going is the thought that someone might come prove me wrong. Someone might give me a reason to wait a little longer.
The carriage stops where it always does: in front of the apple tree. It's where Bella always drops me off, and it's where she always leaves her carriage if she comes to visit. It's not by choice, believe me. There's a big stone wall up ahead with a cast-iron gate that takes a lot more muscle than we possess to open. Luckily, however, when I was about six I found a hole in the wall hidden by some type of weirdo vines. That's how Bella and I get in and out the wall now that Antonio's not here to open the gate for us.
"Do you want me to walk you up to the house?" Bella asks. I look up at her and shake my head. She looks at me for a long moment before speaking, like she had to carefully decide how to say it. "A-are you…okay, Lovino? You seem a bit…spacey."
"I'm fine," I say flatly. It wasn't very convincing, but it's not like I tried. She gives me a faint, half-smile before I step out and onto the dirt road. "Goodbye, Lovino," she calls from the window as the horse guiding the carriage begins to trot away. I wave my hand a little before turning around and walking down the road.
I drag my feet, stirring clouds of dust up around my legs. They swirl around and around until they finally settle back onto the ground. Then I kick them up again. It takes about ten minutes to get to the house from the apple tree if you lollygag the way I do. The road cuts through one last field of crimson tomatoes before it comes to the wall with the big gate. The brick walls are half-way hidden behind this really tall grass. And when I say tall, I mean it! It's so flippin' tall, it almost goes over my head! But then again, I'm really not that tall. I'm pretty sure I'm short compared to the rest of the boys my age, but I hardly ever leave the house so I don't know for sure.
I kick up one more dust cloud before looking up from my feet. There it all is: the tall grass and the brick walls and the gate. Only… It's open. The gate is open. What the fuck?! Who opened it? That thing hasn't been opened for years! Whatever; it's open now, so I'll just go in this way. Maybe I'll find out who opened it… Wait… I freeze in place and my eyes snap open. Someone came. Oh, please don't let it be the policia…
I begin to run down the dirt path that leads to the house. It takes a turn to the left, and I follow it. From here you can see the giant clearing that's in front of Antonio's mansion of a house. Usually the clearing's empty. But today, the big clearing in front of the house isn't empty. There's a carriage sitting right in the middle. It's a fancy one, too. Pulled by two white horses, and the carriage itself is painted black with golden swirls up and down the sides. It doesn't belong to the policia; theirs look different. Thank fucking god. It's rather nice looking, actually. The carriage. Bet someone paid a load for that. But, expensive or not, it's not what I want to see. It means someone's come here. Someone knows I'm here.
I dodge behind a tree and hold my breath. I don't know what to do. This is insane. Someone is here. No one has been here other than me and Bella in four years. Why did they decide to come now? I peak around the tree and see two figures walk up to the huge front door. They seem to be arguing, but their voices are muffled so I can't tell what they're actually saying. Not that I really care. I just want them to go away, whoever the fuck they are. Since they're not looking my way, I run to the side of the house, then alongside the wall to the back door. I pull my key from my pocket, stick it in the lock, twist the key, and push the door open as quickly as I can. As I slip through the back door, I hear the two people knocking on the front door. I have to go right past that stupid door to get up to Antonio's room. I always go there; for some reason it's more comfortable than my room. Bigger, too. Not that my room isn't big. All the rooms in this house are huge.
I enter the main hall-another big room-and notice that there's a clear view into the house from the windows that are next to the front door. Great. Now how am I gonna get past here? I guess I could get on my hands and knees and crawl to the stairs so they couldn't see me…
"Maybe he's not here, mon ami," I hear a French-accented voice say. It makes me jump a little. Wasn't expecting to be able to hear what the people where saying through the door.
"Of course he's here," a German voice responds, "who would miss the awesome me at their doorstep?" More knocks. "Open up, Antonio!" I suppose the German voice could actually be Prussian, but I don't really-whoa, whoa, wait. Antonio? Everyone within a hundred miles knows he went to sea with Arthur four years ago. Why's someone calling his name?
"Antooooooniooooo!" the French guy calls.
"Open this un-awesome door!" the German/Prussian demands. They obviously have no clue that Antonio's not here. Maybe they're not from around here. Maybe they're not dangerous…
"I'm telling you, Gilbert, he's not here!" Oh, so the German/Prussian has a name! That's helpful; now I can stop referring to him in my head as the German/Prussian guy. Now I just need to find out the Frenchie's name. Speaking of Frenchie, he's almost whining now. It's actually a little amazing how clear I can hear them.
"If he's not here, then who am I going to screw tonight?" Gilbert asks. I wrinkle up my nose in disgust. What the hell is wrong with this guy? He and the Frenchie obviously know the tomato bastard, but I don't remember ever meeting these people.
"I'm always here, mon cher… And that's not even why we came here!"
"But Francis, I haven't done Antonio in years!"
"Che palle," I mutter, and shake my head. I can't take it anymore. This conversation is too weird. Gilbert and Francis are official perverts, and I don't want to know what else might be said. Let's see how much we can spare my poor mind… Before the other man can respond, I run to the door and throw it open. At this point, I don't give a damn if they know who I am. I just want them to shut the fuck up. "What do you-" I start, not looking up at them because the sun's shining in my eyes. They cut me off before I can finish.
"Feliciano?!" the two men ask in unison. What the…? So, they know my fratello, too? And they think I'm him? What's going on?!
"Huh?!" I ask, feeling more confused than ever. I look up at them and almost fall over backwards. Towering over me is a man with bright red eyes and grayish-white hair. Behind him is a blond with blue eyes. Really, they don't look freaky-I only freaked out because they're fucking tall. Or maybe I'm just short… As I said earlier, I honestly have no idea because I hardly ever leave this damn house. "Y-you know mia fratello?" I ask the men after I recover from my semi-panic attack
"Fratel-what?" the guy with red eyes asks. He's got the German accent. He must be Gilbert. He raises an eyebrow at me quizzically, then turns to the blond standing next to him. "What's he talking about?"
The other shrugs. "I'm French, not Italian."
"Feliciano is mia fratello," I tell them. They look back at me blankly and I roll my eyes. Even Antonio's friends are dumb. "My brother! We're twins!"
"Feliciano has a twin?" they ask in unison again. Why do they keep doing that? It's starting to freak me out...
"Never mind that," I say, pushing past them and onto the front steps. I'm hit with another wave of Spanish sun and I shield my eyes. "You've gotta get that," I point to the carriage, "outta here."
"Don't tell the awesome me what to do!" Gilbert all-but-shouts, voice full of self-confidence and pride.. I look back at him, my usual glare plastered across my face. Friggin' potato-sucking bastard. German or Prussian-it doesn't matter. I can still call him a potato bastard. So I will.
"I'll tell you what to do," I lower my hand, "and you'll do it, damn it. When the tomato bastard isn't here," I step towards him and stare up into his red eyes. I'm so much shorter than he is, but I don't care. "I'm the one in charge. Got it?"
He looks down at me for a moment. "Who are you?" he finally asks.
"Lovino Vargas," I reply simply, and fold my arms across my chest.
"And how do you know monsieur Antonio?" the one called Francis asks.
"He adopted me, raised me, and then left." I turn around to hide my sad frown. "Now," I continue, not turning around to face them, "are you going to move your goddamn carriage or do I need to do it for you?"
I honestly have no idea what kind of people I'm dealing with here; Antonio has been known to befriend questionable people. I don't know if these are people he knows through the pirate life (although, with the way these two are acting it'd be hard to picture them being pirates.) They could be people he's known his whole life, or just a few years, etc. etc. They could be pedophiles, for all I know! It really wouldn't surprise me, though. Or scare me. They can try to pull all the shit they want. I won't care. With Antonio's coming back almost being a hopeless dream, what've I got to lose?
"Where do you even want us to move it to?" Gilbert asks. Finally I turn and face him again.
"Back to wherever the hell you two came from," I hiss, glare deepening. I hear Francis mutter an "ouch" like I hit him or something. It's funny, really, that these two fully-grown men would let the short little fourteen-year-old me boss them around. I'd never get away with this if that smiley Spaniard were here. "Why did you come here, anyway?" I ask them.
"To see Antonio!" Francis says, a weird smile coming across his face. Devious, I guess you could call it.
"Well, you're too late. Like I said, he left." I look down at my shoes and blow some of my fringe out of my face. "You shoulda come four years ago."
"Where'd he even go?" Gilbert asks, the quizzical expression back.
"Hold on, you've asked enough questions. Let me ask one," I look up at him and he nods for me to continue. "You said you know Feliciano."
"Yes, that's true. Both me and Francis know him. And West, but he's not here right now. And then of course Roderich and Elizaveta know him."
Roderich and Elizaveta… Those names ring a bell. They are the people who adopted Feliciano. "What're they like?" I ask. "Elizaveta and Roderich. The people who raised my twin. What're they like?" I pause before adding, "What's Feliciano like?" Gilbert glances over at Francis and they exchange an expression that I hardly notice.
"Story time!" Francis exclaims like a child, and practically prances into the house.
"Hey!" I call after him. "Get back here, Francey Pants!" I follow him into the house, but I can still hear Gilbert outside the door, laughing his ass off. He repeats 'francey pants' a couple times before coming inside the house with us. Fuck. Now they're in Antonio's house. They'll get it dirty, and then I'll I have to clean. Not to mention the fact that I'll have to somehow drag their asses out of here... They've already made themselves comfortable on one of the couches in the sitting room!
Why, Antonio? Why'd you have to make friends with these people? Why'd you have to make me deal with them while you're gone? Why do you even have to be gone in the first place?
A/N Well, there's the first chapter! I'll be trying to update like, once every week or two (or three)? Hopefully I can do that (with any luck, stupid school won't get in the way) Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think so far if you want to!
(Oh, and if you didn't know, Bella is Belgium ^-^)