A/N: This is based in 1931, the start of the Second Spanish Republic. Take into thought that I do not know anything of Spain's history, and from what little I know, I googled it. Yes. Kill me.

Spain ran to the bathroom in disgust. He hasn't been feeling well for a while now, and today wasn't an exception. He was scheduled for a meeting with his queen today, but he might have to reschedule...again.

He pushed the bathroom door open and rushed to the toilet. "It must be my economy," he wiped his mouth and tried to calm down.

"Are you so sure?" a voice chirped up, gleaming with excitement. Spain closed his eyes and replied slowly, "Yes, I'm sure, now f- off."

"But, you know very well that I can't," the voice teased.

Spain pushed himself off the ground and walked over to the sink, keeping his eyes on the ground. He turned the sink on and began to wash his face.

"I feel like you're avoiding something," the voice mocked. "Or maybe someone."

Spain slowly lifted his head and glared. His normally emerald green eyes were now a dark, muck green, full of despair. His cheerful aurora had vanished as if he had never been happy in his life. He spat at the mirror then continued to wash his face.

"Oh harsh," the voice cried in false pain. "How much ruder can you be?"

Spain quickly turned off the water, and slammed his hands against the sink. "What do you want!" His sun kissed skin was now a pale color, almost lighter than a friend of his. The dark rings around his eyes were evidence of sleepless nights.

"You know what I want," Spain watched as his reflection's lips curled into a smirk. "I want control. Total control."

"In Hell you will, hijo de puta," he spat. His reflection laughed. A much, much healthier version of him was laughing at himself. His reflection's eyes shined brighter than his used to, and his hair lighter than the Spain watching him. His skin was a perfect tan, as if he spent all his time outside, and his face showed a full night sleep, and not a minute less.

"Is that anyway to talk to about our mother," his beautiful smile showed his true grimly self.

"She's not your mother" Spain spat into the sink, and Showed no emotion as the blood from his mouth rolled down the drain.

"You are in no health to control land, dear brother," the reflection narrowed his eyes.

"We are not brothers," Spain mumbled, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, but we are," the reflection leaned in and grinned from ear to ear. "We are the same."

"Go to hell," Spain leaned over, pressing his head against the cold sink.

"I'll drag you with me and let our country rot."

"Joderte," Spain mumbled.

"Is that anyway to talk to yourself?" There was no way to end this. Spain was arguing with himself. He'd seen this before, countries get sick, a bit on the jumpy side, and arguing with themselves. It was the first sign of a Civil War, and Spain has all the symptoms.

"I will fight you," Spain mumbled, removing his head from the cool sink, glaring at the reflection.

"Wh-what?" the reflection replied shocked.

"Second Spanish Republic," Spain pushed himself up, using his forearm on the edge of the sink. He narrowed his eyes, locking them onto the emerald green ones he once knew as his own. "If you attempt to over power El Bando Nacional, you will be starting a civil war. Understand?"

Spain's reflection smirked, "Is that a promise?"

Spain pulled though his aching body and smirked, "You can bet your life on it."