"Eh Spain! My idiot brother is having a sleepover with that potatoe bastard at my place, so I'm staying here." Romano said, bursting into the Spaniard's house like he owned the place.

"Oh, hola Romano! I'm in the library!" Spain called from down the hallway. Romano had bad experience with that particular room, as bookcases had a habit of falling on him when he was a kid. It had scarred him, and as such he rarely read.

"Why are you in here?" He said from the doorway, careful to be out of squishing range.

"I found an old chest, and I'm going through it. Come look."The cheerful man chirped. He warily looked at all of the monsters everyone assumed to be innocent, but decided to carefuly travel down the asles anyway.

"This better be good, tomatoe bastard." He responded, and Spain pulled out an old looking sword.

"This is the sword of your grandpa's you gave to me. I had it restored and then put it in this chest so I wouldn't lose it, but then I forgot I put it in the chest!"

"That's becasue you're a complete retard."

"I am not. I just forget things sometimes. Hold on, let me go get some polish for it. Don't go anywhere." He said with his usual goofy smile. He practicaly skipped off to wherever it was one keeps sword polish in the twentyeth century. He really was a dumb bastard, but not a bad man. He was actually pretty kind, and strong when he needed to be. If it weren't for him, Romano would be dead or Turkish right now, so he couldn't hate him.

Romano sighed and was about to look at what else was in the chest when the closest bookcase began leanging toward him. He saw it but was it a crouching position and couldn't fully jump out of thhe way. He screamed as the heavy wood fell onto his right leg.

"Tomatoe bastard!" Romano called. " Spain!" He couldn't take his eyes off of the blood leaking from underneath the shelf, and nearly fainted.

"Romano what-Dios Mio!" He ran to the younger nation, green eyes wide in distress and suprise.

"I told you thhe damn bookcases were out to get me, bastard!" He yelled, but he had lost too much blood for it to have any venom. The spainiard lifted the bookcase off, and saw the wound. Romano's leg was shattered in the middle, with one of the bones stabbing out like a backeards knife.

"Holy shit!" The Italian said before passing out. Spain rushed to call a doctor and get something to stop some of the bleeding.

When Romano woke up, he was in a room he didn't recognize.

"Espagna?" He called out, his voice hoarse. "Veniziano?"

"I'm the only one here, Romano, but Italy will be back soon." He heard the last voice he wanted to ere, exept maybe England. Germany's.

"Why the hell are you here, Potatoe bastard?"

"Because Italy thoughth you''d be hungry when you woke up and he didn't want to leave you alone, so he asked me to keep watch on you. And no, I don't know why I couldn't get you food and him stay here."

"So then Veniziano is here, though?"

"Of course. He's your bruder. Spain is bringing you some things from his house, and will be bakc in an hour or so."

"Why doesn't my leg hurt? It should hurt, right."

"You'd probably like the answer from someone else, but they had to amputate the leg. It was too smashed up to ever heal, nad would most likely kill you. Spain pretended to be your lover to give them permission." Germany said, and if Romano had any extra blood, it would have rushed to his cheeks in a blush.

"Che, Tomatoe bastard. Always saying outrageous things. All of this over one of Grandpa's swords."

"Ve~! You're awake big brother!" Italy said, running into the room with a plate of pasta.

"Why did you let thhem cut off my damn leg, Stupid brother?" He immidiatly raged, throwing his anger at whoever he thought would take it.

"I didn't. They already did it when I got here! Please don't hit me." Italy cowered, and Germany sighed.

"I had to seem like an ass, but he couldn't get up to hit you if he tried. He probably won't be doing much of anything anytime soon." Germany said, comforting Italy, though it earned him a glare from his enraged and crippled brother.

"Well, we just have to wait for Spain to come withh your things. They said you'd be in here for a while, Big Brother." Romano just sighed.

It took nearly a year of rehabilitation before Romano could walk with his fake leg, and even then it was extremly akward and he had to use a cane. They ended up deciding he should stay with Spain, as that's who seemed the most capible and eager to take care of him. Italy would gladly have helped him out, but was too weak, and Germany would have done so if Italy had asked, he'd do pretty mcuh anything Italy asked, such was love, but he was gruff and not one to be gentle.

So at Spain's place, he learned to walk again, and the Romano was amazed at how Spain never seemed to get angry or impatient, even when he did. Until then, he'd never really noticed how much he actually depended on the Spaniard. Even to assume that he would be okay with him staying at his house that day was selfish of him.

"So, are you feeling up to a walk, my little tomatoe?" Spain asked, expecting a beration, but still keeping a happy smile on his face. The doctor had told him that stress was bad for Romano, and so if yelling at him reduced stress, the older male was happy to take it.

"Si. Thank you for asking." Romano said softly, and Spain was shocked. He watched Romano struggle up, knowing that he didn't like help when he could avoid it, and they headed into the cool, fall air.

"So you seem to be in a good mood today, Lovi."Spain said, and Romano looked up at him, before looking away and biting his lip.

"I wanted to talk to you, Spain." He said, gesturing toward a fountain shaped like a turtle. Spain did love turtles.

"Si, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"I wanted to apologize. Not just for recently, but even when I was a little kid. I've always been a jerkola when all you ever did was help me out. I never realized it because you just took it and kept smiling, but I always blame my problems on you, so I'm sorry." The younger looked into the fountain, as if it were telling him what to say.

" Oh, mio tomatoe, I don't mind." Spain said, pulling him into a hug. "I know that deep down you don't really hate me, so it's okay."

"No, it isn't. Because I don't just not hate you. I think... I think that I... may love you. As more than a friend. Like Veniziano loves the potatoe bastard." He said, wanting Spain to understand exactly what he meant.

"You mean it?" Spain said, happy tears forming in his green eyes.

"Yes. I do. And while I know I act like an ass, I'll probably still do it, but as Germany said to my brother, somone has to take it." He looked at his caretaker, and both of them smiled.

"I know I love you, Romano." He whispered, causing the younger to blush, although he hugged back.

?Then he really is one dumb bastard. But who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?

YAY! Spamano onshot. I usualy don't ship this couple, because in my head they are father and son( Spain being Rome's son, thus making him the Italys grandfather) but I got World series dubbed, and saw how bookshelfs always attacked Romano and though "Well what if one of them actually got him?" And this was born. I hope you enjoyed and please review.