EDITED 8/4/12 - This has been getting a little bit of attention lately and I ended up re-reading it and finding some appalling mistakes that I needed to fix right away. The story is the same, just hopefully I caught where my Microsoft word changed some words around, and deleted others OTL. So if this appears in the stories list again, or you get an update alert for some weird reason, nothing new has been added!

Warnings and Disclaimer: I have never written Boss!Spain and Chibi!Romano, so apologizes, there's mentions of some OC characters, but they're only servants who really can be forgotten about, and Romano actually doesn't swear too much in this. Country names used only.

I do not own Hetalia, but I wish I did.

Beta done by SimplySalted.

With the sunlight shining brightly over his closed eyelids, Spain woke up. He gave a lazy stretch and then, the half-asleep nation yawned loudly, - softly running his hand through bed tossed, brown locks... He loved waking up like this every morn-

Wait.

Suddenly, Spain froze in realization and opened his eyes. This wasn't right... He never woke up this way...not anymore at least.

This had to be a hallucination. For the past few years, being able to wake up peacefully in his bed had only been a daydream, something he had known once upon a time. But...

Ever since Romano, the small, yet fierce, representation of South Italy, had come under his rule and roof, his mornings had always been the same. The little Italian nation would come flying into his room, scamper onto the bed, and proceed to jump on his poor stomach, all while chanting "Breakfast! Wake up! Breakfast!" …For Romano not to be here meant that something must have happened.

Worried for his little lackey, the now suddenly awake nation flung himself out of his bed. When he threw the door open, he came face to face with a startled maid -who dropped all the fresh linens she was carrying right on the spot.

"Ah! Sorry!" Spain immediately set to helping the house worker pick up her lost cargo, all while she kept repeating over and over that it was quite alright and he had just startled her. And only when everything was back in order, he had decided to ask her if she had seen Romano yet.

"Hmm..." The small housemaid scratched her rumpled hair for a moment before snapping her fingers. "Ah! I haven't, but I believe Isabella said he refused to let her into his room to change the sheets. She was surprised he hadn't gotten up yet..." A small, sad smile was on her face as she said this (everyone knew exactly what happened every daybreak to the poor Spaniard).

A soft chuckle was heard. "Gracias..." And after a quick bow, he was left alone, standing in the large hallway. Contemplating on what he would do, the Spaniard decided to go see what was wrong with his little henchman.

In his determined stroll down the long hallway, Spain chirped a hello at each servant he passed by, all of them returning his happy "Buenos días!" with a polite smile and wave.

Once finally reaching Romano's room (the one right next to the bathroom- one too many accidents in the middle night had eventually led to a room change), Spain softly rapped his knuckle against the door.

"Romanito, are you awake?" There was no response, so he chose to knock again, "Romano?"

"G-go away." A weak, almost desperate voice carried itself to Spain's ears. Worry set in simultaneously and, without Romano's permission, he carelessly defied a crucial law of the Italian's by hurrying into the smaller's room.

All he could see was a meager lump on the bed, buried under a heap of blankets. A noticeable tremor shook through the pint-sized bundle and Spain wanted nothing more than to stand at the bedside and further inspect his condition. So he did.

Grabbing the edge of the blanket, Spain peeled them back to reveal a curled up Romano. And soon after this, the feisty child tried to bury his face into his pillow in an attempt to block out the sudden burst of light, a low groan escaping his lips.

Spain gaped slightly in utter shock at the sight of the little Italian. Light panting came from the Italian that carried an unhealthy red hue on his sweat slicked face. His eyes were closed tight, dark brown hair (which normally seemed to always be neat and proper in its own messy way) was now plastered down and sticking to his forehead in a very frightening display.

"Roma..."

…A hardly audible groan was his single reply.

"Romano, look at me."

Afterwards, a glazed over, hazel eye cracked open, meeting the Spaniard's prodding, annoying, green gaze.

"S-spain..." Romano finally acknowledged the other with quiet words. "...W-where's my b-breakfast?" His voice was broken, obviously filled with pain he tried hard to conceal, but couldn't. Spain found himself repressing a smile, for his concern for Romano had instantly killed all the bubbling amusement he found when seeing the young one's miserable attempts to be tough.

"Silly... Why didn't you come tell me you weren't feeling well?"

Romano still managed to pout slightly and look away...Yet his stubbornness was quickly crushed when another violent shiver and cough rattled his entire being without mercy.

And directly after this outburst, Spain was helping the coughing Italian into a sitting position, cooing soft words of comfort into his ear as he tried to suppress harsh fit by rubbing soothing circles on his back.

Once the outburst subsided, Romano let out a soft sigh that quickly morphed into a pained moan. To Spain's surprise, the little nation suddenly gripped onto the front of his night shirt- his face within the fabric of the startled man's clothing.

Spain could feel the heat simply radiating on his chest from the face pressed into the folds of his nightshirt, the quivers as they ran through the other's body as well.

Sighing softly, Spain scooped the boy up into his arms. Leaving Romano to grumble lightly yet again, because it was his habit despite continuing to cling to his caretaker's shirt. Smiling softly down on the sick boy (Why couldn't he always be this sweet, nestling into his chest?), Spain gathered some new clothes out of Romano's closet and headed towards the bathroom.

Once Romano got cleaned up- the poor boy had been too weak to fight the fact that it was Spain who was taking care of him- and put into new clothes, Spain took the poor child, who had even dozed off while Spain was dressing him- against his will, of course-, off to his own bedroom.

The Spanish nation placed his dearest child onto the bed, that happened to be adorned in smooth sheets as the chambermaid earlier must have changed them after he ran into her. Spain wrapped the boy up in the large comforter, making exhaustion even easier for Romano to surrender to at this point. Despite the new warmth, spasms continued to ripple under the covers with the slumbering Italian.

Quickly, Spain dashed out of the room to the hallway storeroom, where all the linens were kept in order to grab an extra blanket. But no matter how quick he was in returning to Romano's side…he found Romano thrashing wildly, his eyes wide open and filled with fear.

Dropping the blanket and racing over to the bed, his sun-kissed hands took that distressed, over-heating face without a moment's hesitation. Romano was even warmer than before, and Spain was left unsure of what to do other than gasp, finding it hard to form a coherent thought through all of his concern. But he had to calm the panicking boy first.

"Romanito, calm down! Shh, calm down..." Romano stilled eventually from his frightening state…the sound of the Spaniard's voice seemed to do the trick... His eyes, still wide and brimming in tears, met Spain's worried gaze. "I'm right here Romanito. It's okay..."

Very solid tears fell in a stream from Romano's eyes and, before Spain could even react, Romano was latched again to his shirt and sobbing.

"D-don't leave me alone" was all Spain could hear through the wheezy, raspy breaths.

Smiling with fondness he only held for Romano, Spain stroked the crying boy's hair and whispered "I would never."

And he meant what he had said with his whole heart, mind, and soul.

Hours later, the two were still in the same position: curled under multiple blankets, with Romano clutching to Spain as if he was his only lifeline.

Absent in his thoughts, Spain took to running his comforting fingers through Romano's hair, happy to see that, since his fever had gone down, he was now able to rest peacefully. Soon, he found himself thinking about his little henchman.

Romano had never been open to showing affection to him. Head-butts, angrily shouted words, and all sorts of other types of disrespectful actions were thrown at Spain instead. Sometimes, it had gotten so bad that the older nation was pretty much convinced the little Italian hated his guts. But now...

As if he knew what the Spaniard was thinking about, the sleeping nation sighed softly and pulled himself in closer to Spain's warmth. Spain grinned and laughed quietly but he stopped when he heard something mumbled into his chest.

"G-grazie Spanga..."

His brain took a few moments to translate the quietly muttered Italian phrase...and grinned widely as he realized what Romano had said.

Pulling the boy closer to him, Spain voiced a fond reply, "You're welcome, mi Romanito."

They spent the rest of the day in Spain's room, only moving from the bed for bathroom breaks. Occasionally, a random maid would come in and check on them, but never stayed longer than it took to drop off something to eat. Spain never did leave Romano, however, who continued to cuddle and cling to the older nation.

Before Spain had dozed off to sleep, the last thing he thought was that, maybe, just maybe, Romano really didn't hate him as much as it seemed.

He mind had almost changed the next morning as he was startled awake by the small boy jumping up and down on his stomach, demanding that he wake up and feed him, just like before…Although it seemed he wasn't jumping as hard. Perhaps it was his imagination.

Groaning in pain as he knocked Romano, who appeared to be in perfect health now, off of his belly, the only thing that Spain could think was 'some things never change.'

And he perfectly happy with that.

This was my fill for the SpaRo gift exchange, for shibbyone on LJ. / o /. Prompt was: Romano, as a little boy, gets very very sick and has to stay in bed all day. Spain sees him, picks him up, and brings little Roma to his big warm bed and cuddles with him to keep him warm and watch over him. Just adorable little Romano semi-consciously adoring Spain and Spain noticing that, hey, Romano may not hate his everlasting guts.

Check my profile for information on my other stories and when they should be updated, because I'm working really hard to get them out to you guys soon.

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