After a quick bath and some intestinal parasites medicines, Romano took cat Spain back to his car and sat him down at the passenger's seat while he called to Spain's cell phone once more. No one picked up.
"Stupid bastard," he muttered, starting his car. He looked down at the sad and barely dry Spain. "You need a name…and a collar," he said.
Spain gave a tired purr, unwilling to even lift his head from the car seat. He was trying to think back to what happened the previous night, but his memories were even blurrier than before.
"What is it now? Are you sad?" asked Romano, scratching at the base of Spain's ears. He sighed, and placed a soft kiss to Spain's nose. "I'm sad too. But you know what makes me feel better? Going shopping."
Romano drove downtown. "Fuck that jerk. Let's go have fun. If he won't answer his damn phone, well, there's better things to do than looking for his drunk ass all over town. I hate it. I hate it so much when he goes out with Prussia and France, because nothing good ever happens then. It's like he becomes somebody else. Someone completely different," said Romano. He parked the car and picked up cat Spain. "Or maybe…maybe he doesn't become someone different. He just goes back to the way he was, hundreds of years ago. Always fighting for ridiculous things."
Still holding Spain in his arms, Romano entered the pet store. A parrot cried out at him and he gasped.
"It's ok, he doesn't bite," said an employee at the cashier. "Oh, your cat is so cute!"
Romano beamed. "I know," he said, caressing Spain's head. "I just got him, so he needs a collar. Which ones do you have?"
The girl beamed and brought some simple leather ones, along with some fabric ones. "We can make his plaque too if you have already thought of a name," she said.
Romano held up the collars against Spain's fur, while Spain sat on the table, mulling over Romano's words. He never thought of the way he behaved when he drank, or even thought that the way he partied would upset Romano so much.
"You don't like any of these?" asked Romano, looking at Spain's sad little cat face and lowered ears. "Maybe he's hungry? That's right, we haven't eaten anything today. Do you have any cat food? What else will I need for him?"
Romano soon found that cats needed beds, and toys, and plates. But most importantly, he found that they didn't need ridiculous hats and costumes, but they looked adorable in them.
He walked out of the store with a bunch of bags, while Spain walked alongside him, wearing a little costume made to look like a white shirt and black jacket (tie included), and a simple brown leather collar.
"I don't like it either," said Romano, looking at the windows of the stores at the mall. "It looks too casual. And it doesn't look good with any of your outfits"
Spain followed along with his ears low. He hadn't gone shopping with Romano in a long while, even though he knew it was something Romano enjoyed. It had been at least fifty or seventy years since the last time they did it, in fact. He hadn't realized how long it had been. They usually hung out at each other's houses, had dinner and watched a movie, or chat about things going on. They had drifted apart even as they were closer, and he hadn't even realized it.
He was then reminded of all those times when Romano had arrived at his house demanding that he dressed like a decent person.
Spain ran up ahead of him, jumping around him excitedly. As a cat, he couldn't even make a cheer up charm for his precious little underling, so he stood up, moving his little paws at him.
"You're happy again?" asked Romano, smiling down at him. "Sadness doesn't cling to you, does it? You're just like that idiot. You get sad and then forget about it five minutes later. Ah~ I'm so jealous of that. How do you just don't think about painful things? They always seem to float in my mind."
He stopped at the entrance of Cartier. "Here, come on. I'll show you something."
A seller gasped when she saw him enter with cat Spain behind him. "Excuse me sir! Pets are not allowed, so-" she said, but a man in a perfectly tailored suit put a hand to her shoulder to stop her.
"Mr. Vargas, what a joy to see you," he said "I see you have a new friend." He walked up to them and took the bags off Romano's hands. "Let me help you with that."
"Thank you. I just got him today and he needs a collar. A good one," said Romano. He bent down and picked Spain up. "I got him this one, but…"
"It doesn't look very good with his little suit," said the man, giving Spain a cold smile. "We have some nice ones that you might like."
The seller showed them some golden and silver collars, with black and dark brown leather. Spain stood straight and silent as Romano put the little collars on him. It felt good to have Romano's long fingers over his fur, and he wished he could hold his hands and entwine their fingers together. He gave a purring sigh.
"He's so well behaved. Was he trained before you got him? What's his name?" asked the lady who had tried to stop him from entering the store.
Romano scratched under Spain's head. "He ran up to me this morning. I think I'll name him…Cuore*" (*Cuore=Heart)
Spain felt himself beaming. Romano found him adorable! Romano was smiling at him and proud of him. He could deal with being a cat if it meant having so much attention from his henchman.
The man with the sharp suit came back holding a small box in his hands. "Mr. Vargas, your watch arrived this morning. We were about to call you," he said.
Romano's eyes sparkled. "Really?! That's so great. Ugh, but that idiot doesn't even answer his phone. He doesn't deserve it," said Romano, opening the tiny box. Inside was a beautiful sleek black watch with silver roman numerals, and a bright blue cristal to the side.
Spain was hypnotized by the beauty of the watch. Had Romano really bought that as a present for him? Why? Spain didn't even wear a watch. His tail and ears rose in excitement at the idea that Romano had chosen something so thoughtfully for him.
"You like it?" asked Romano, pulling the watch out of the box to show it to him, so Spain could see the small window that showed the inner mechanism of the watch.
Spain meowed in happiness, and rubbed his furry head against Romano's hand.
"He likes it," said the female seller, giggling at him.
"I just hope Antonio likes it. He can be so airheaded sometimes," said Romano, looking at the watch with sad eyes. "He will probably look at it and ask why did you get it for me when I don't even wear watches. I can hear him already."
Spain lost his breath when he realized just how well Romano knew him.
The man from the store took the watch from Romano's hands. "Well, if he doesn't like it, I think it would look much better on your wrist," he said, putting the watch on Romano's thin wrist with a warm smile.
Romano gave a shy smile, blushing a little. Spain blinked, saw the way the man's fingers touched the skin of Romano's hands, and went ballistic.
He yowled, jumping to scratch at the man's face, but the lady caught him in mid jump. "Oh dear, I think he doesn't like you," she said, struggling to keep cat Spain away from her manager.
Romano gasped. "What are you doing?!" he asked, taking him away from the lady. Then he turned towards the manager. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe he did that."
"It's alright Mr. Vargas," said the manager, with a tense smile.
Romano kept apologizing as he paid for everything and left.
He didn't let him out of his hands until they reached the car. "What were you thinking?" he asked Spain, setting him on the ground. "Can I trust you to behave now?"
Spain lowered his head and rubbed himself against Romano's leg, purring softly. He wasn't really sorry to be honest. In fact, he would have done the same if he had been in human form. Ok, maybe not the same. If he was in human form he would have most likely just punched the guy in the face. But he was still sad that Romano was upset.
Romano took a deep breath and petted him on the head. "You're just like him. You make a mess, and then put up that sad face until I can't be angry at you," he said.
Spain's heart fluttered. He knew that Romano didn't stay angry at him for long, but he had never heard him be so honest about it. Being a cat was almost a blessing.
After putting all the bags in the trunk, Romano climbed into his car and set Spain on the copilot seat while he put the collar on him. He had chosen the one in dark brown leather.
"Oh, you look so fancy now," said Romano, picking him up and lifting him to press their noses together. "Who's a pretty kitten? You are a pretty kitten," he said with a bright smile.
Spain felt like he was in paradise. He had never seen Romano smile so much in a single day, and being in his arms all the time was an absolute joy.
Romano nuzzled his fur and giggled. "Oh, I hate you so much. You're adorable, and so, so cute," he said, and sighed. "I hate you. How long will you live? Ten? Twelve years, until you're too old and living is too painful for you?" Romano gave him a sad smile. "I hate things that die."
Spain's ears lowered. 'Romano, things that die aren't –things-,' he wanted to say.
Romano's cell phone went off, playing a cheery tune. Across the screen flashed a photo of a smiling Feliciano.
"What does he want now?" wondered aloud Romano as he sat Spain back on the copilot seat and answered his phone
"Fratello where are you?" asked Feliciano right away.
"Uh…near Spain. I-I mean, I went shopping. It's not like I was looking for Spain or anything. I just had to pick something up," said Romano, blushing.
If Spain could have snickered, he would have. Instead, his tail swayed from side to side in amused interest.
"Oh, good. He called a while ago. He said that he didn't want you to look for him, and to not call. He sounded upset about something. Have you been calling him?"
"He…he said w-what?" mumbled Romano, shocked. "F-fine! Whatever! I don't care!" he yelled, and hung up on his brother.
Spain froze.
What? He had called? How was that possible when he was right there with Romano? Granted, he was a cat which was something he hadn't been able to fully explain to himself, but still. He was Spain! He was the embodiment of the Kingdom of Spain, physical form non withstanding.
Or was he?
What if he was instead a cat who thought he was Spain? Like the butterfly who dreamed she was a human in that Chinese saying? No, but that was completely ridiculous. He had memories . He had knowledge. Knowledge that went back hundreds of years. Thousands of years, in fact. His memory went all the way back to when he was called Hispania, so of course he wasn't just some cat with delusions of grandeur.
A sound coming from Romano jolted Spain out of his inner ramblings, and he noticed that Romano's body shook even as he was hunched over the steering wheel.
"He…he…," mumbled Romano, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. "He called Feliciano… to tell him that he didn't want to see me. He was ignoring me on purpose." His voice broke and he started sobbing. "God I'm so stupid!" he cried, hiding his face in his hands. "He hates me! He's sick of me!"
Spain moved left and right on the seat, pacing with his tiny paws.
'No! Romano I love you!' He shouted, but it came out like a pained yowl. ' I love you! I really do!'
As he yowled out words of love, Spain realized he had never really said that aloud. It was always You're so cute. Ah~ Roma is so adorable. Will you go to the party with me Roma? I want Roma to stay with me. Romano you're so great.
And while they were all expressions of love in their own way, Romano, who lived in the clutches of fear and paranoia, needed to hear the actual words.
And Spain had never realized that.
What kind of boss was he if he could not see that? Hell, what kind of lover could he be if he hadn't seen that in all these years? Did he really have the right to say that he loved Romano, now that he saw how much Romano was hurting without him knowing?
Romano sniffled as he looked down at cat Spain. "I hate him! I hate him so much!" he said.
Someone knocked on the window of the car, making Romano and Spain jump.
A blonde head looked inside, and Romano screeched, quickly reaching into the gloves drawer for his dark glasses to hide his crying eyes, before he lowered the window.
"America? What the hell are you doing here?" asked Romano.
"Hi Roma. I've been looking everywhere for England all day. Have you seen him? Geez, it's so cold here," said America, pulling his jersey closer to himself. "Let me inside please!"
"Ugh, fine. Get in," said Romano with a grumble.
America jogged around the car, and opened the door to find cat Spain hissing at him.
"No! Sit at the back. Only I can sit next to my precious Roma!" he meowed.
"And who is this little gentleman?" said America, lifting Spain up as he sat down on the car and closed the door behind him. "Hahaha! Look at his tiny costume. That's so cool!"
Romano's face turned red. "B-be careful. He doesn't like strange people."
"Aw his little paws are so cute," said America, and noticed the tiny tag on the collar. "Cuore? That's his name? When did you get him?"
Romano started the car. "You're so annoying," he complained, reaching for the drive stick, when America stopped him by putting his hand over his.
"Wait. You should calm down before driving," he said in a soft voice.
Romano turned his face away. "If you knew I was upset why did you get in?" mumbled Romano.
Spain growled and clawed at America's face. He managed to grace his nose with his claws.
"Ouch! What the hell? He really doesn't like strange people," said America.
"You just won't behave, will you?" said Romano with a tired voice. He picked Spain up and twisted around to put him on the carrier in the backseat.
Spain wiggled and whined, but Romano closed the door of the carrier on his face.
"I got him today," said Romano as way of explanation.
"Buying a cat is a new one for you. When you're upset you usually just buy clothes," said America, with a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth.
Spain felt his jealousy burning a hole through his stomach.
Romano growled. "I didn't buy a cat. I found him on the street and he wouldn't leave, so I figured why not take him in? He was so pathetic anyway. And I don't buy stuff when I'm upset. Geez, I go live with you for a while and you think you know everything about me? I'm way older than you, kid. Have some respect."
"Oh, that's rich coming from you. Now, tell me why you were crying," said America.
"It's nothing," said Romano a bit too fast. "Just…I'll drop you at your hotel."
"Nothing? You do tend to be super dramatic about everything, but come on," said America, rubbing a tear away from Romano's cheek with his thumb. "I don't think nothing made you feel like this."
Romano scoffed. "I'm not dramatic!" he said, but took his glasses off anyway. "And it's just something stupid. Spain's being a jerk. An even worse jerk than usual…that bastard…"
"Going out drinking with Prussia and France again? I've told you, you should just up and talk to him. Sulking about it is too subtle for him."
"It's not about that!" cried Romano, hitting the steering wheel. "I mean it pisses me off, yeah, but…but…" his eyes started filling with tears again. "But I wish he would appreciate me. I wish that if he didn't want to see me, he could at least call me instead of calling my brother. I know he likes him better, but would it be so hard to not be so obvious about it?"
Spain rolled on the floor of the carrier. 'Why? Why do you keep thinking that I like Feliciano better?! I keep pouring all my attentions on you, but I look at Feliciano's way for a second and you crumble. Roma, I wish you would love yourself as much as I love you'
"What are you talking about?" asked America.
"He called Feliciano, saying that he didn't want me to call him," said Romano in a low voice "I can't believe I was so stupid I didn't see this coming. The oblivious one was me. The one who didn't get hints was me."
"I…Really? I mean, I don't even know what to say. You two have been together one way or another for as long as I can remember. Hell, back when you were with me, you still spent hours on the phone with him."
That only made Romano cry louder. Spain scratched at the floor of the carrier, wanting to rush out of there and take Romano in his arms.
"Come on here," said America, pulling Romano's head to lay on his shoulder. "I don't know what to say, but you can cry on my shoulder. Like I used to do on yours."
"Idiot," mumbled Romano, leaning into America.
They stayed like that for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company and the feel and warmth of the other's body.
"Why did we end?" wondered Romano, with a small voice.
Spain felt his blood run cold.
"Because you went cattivo" said America with a laugh.
"Jerk," complained Romano, giving him a soft punch in the chest.
"I had a moral obligation to stop you."
"I have a moral obligation to kick your ass out of my car if you keep that up."
America laughed. "You could never love me anyway."
"I could have."
"You wouldn't. We were both looking for someone else in each other."
Romano fell silent for a moment. "I guess you're right…Thank you."
America smiled. "You've calmed down. My job here is done," he said, and patted Romano's head. "Now, I have to keep looking for England."
"Of course you do. You always do," said Romano, with some resentment in his voice.
America opened the door, but looked back before getting out. "You go home and cry some more. Spain will go look for you soon. He always does."
"I don't care if he does!"
"Drama queen!" yelled America, and closed the door on Romano's face.
Romano screeched in rage. "Idiota!" he yelled, but America was already gone. "Go home and cry some more. What does he know about me? How dare he call me a drama queen and then go run to England. Fucking England of all people!"
Romano fumed as he started the car. "And what kind of bullshit is wait until Spain goes looking for you? If he's a hero, we're all fucked."
As he drove away from the mall, he realized there was a strange silence in the car. A little kitty face came to mind.
"You're awfully silent back there," he called.
No response.
"Are you angry because I put you there? You can't go around attacking people like that."
Nothing.
They arrived at Romano's beachside house, and there was still no sound from the little carrier. Romano peered inside, and saw the dark shape of cat Spain at the very back.
"Do you feel bad, or are you just angry?" he asked, as he brought the carrier and all the bags inside. He didn't want to accept it, but America's words had calmed him a bit. And in a way (not that he would ever accept it. Not in a million years.) he was in fact a bit overdramatic. Especially when it came to anything related to Spain.
"I can't believe crying on him helped," he said as he took off his black coat. He rubbed at his eyes. He could feel the crying headache coming. "I need to lay down now." He looked down at the carrier that had the door open, but still his little Cuore refused to come out. He knelt down next to it.
"Come on. Are you scared? This will be your home now. Come on, come out," he said, but the cat made no move to get out. Romano sighed and reached inside to pull him out.
Spain let himself be pulled out, but didn't move. He didn't even look at Romano.
"Are you hungry?" asked Romano, suddenly very concerned. He poured out milk for him, along with some food, but as soon as he set the cat down next to the bowls, he just laid on the floor without moving.
Romano grit his teeth. "Are you sick? The vet said you were alright. I won't forgive you if you die now!" he said, feeling his eyes starting to fill wit tears again. "Ten years are like the blink of an eye for me, but now you arrive just to die right away? This shit always happens. I love people and they leave."
Spain blinked, and looked up at the tears falling silently down Romano's eyes. After a tiny cat sigh, he pushed himself up on his tiny paws and went to rub his face against Romano's leg.
"Fuck you," said Romano with a sigh of relief at seeing him finally moving.
Spain sat down next to him, trying to understand how he really felt. Romano scratched his ears, but Spain stepped a little away from him.
"If you're trying to make me feel bad for putting you in the carrier it's working, so stop," said Romano.
Spain still didn't get closer.
"Ok, I won't put you in it anymore, I promise," said Romano, and pulled Spain up against his chest. Spain whined, trying to get away from him, but without much intention. Being so close to Romano, being showered with so much affection, it was all too good to really fight him.
Romano rubbed his face against Spain's fur. "You're too much like him. Even in the way you sulk. Once he got angry at me for flirting with some bella," he said.
Spain growled, the incident coming back to his mind.
"As if some human girl was someone he should worry about." He tapped Spain's nose. "And he just stayed home and wouldn't talk to me or even talk to anyone until France brought me to his house to drag him out. Not like I was going on my own, I mean, France practically kidnapped me and forced me to go see what the hell was wrong with him. Turns out the dumbass was asleep in the couch. He had been there for days! I wanted to slap him. Tell him how worried I was and how much I'd cried. But…I couldn't. Of course I couldn't. He would think I'm nothing but the child I was. Like the child he's always thought I am. So I just kissed his forehead, waited until he woke up, and said I was sorry."
Spain licked at Romano's cheek. He never noticed the kiss. Like always, Romano was too good at hiding his emotions, and Spain was too airheaded to notice.
Someone knocked on the door so hard, Romano screamed, and Spain jumped out of his hands.
"W-who is it?!" cried Romano, getting up from the floor.
"Romano, open the door!" yelled America from outside.
Spain hissed at the door. No, he wasn't over the revelation that the two of them had dated around a hundred years ago.
"What the hell do you want?" asked Romano, walking up to the door.
America kicked the door open, and Romano yelped, jumping back a few paces.
"My door! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" shouted Romano.
America walked into the house, pulling England behind him. He saw Spain yowling at him and pushed England forward.
"There he is. Fix him," he ordered.
England stumbled forward, almost stepping over Spain. Romano rushed to pull Spain up in his arms.
"Be careful! Geez, what are you doing?!" he complained.
England passed a hand through his hair. He looked like he'd gotten run over in hell. All red eyed and dirty, with a gash down his left sleeve. "Do you seriously think that's an actual cat?" he asked, pulling his wand out of his pocket.
"Of course he thinks that's a cat. I thought so too," said America, glaring at England.
"What are you talking about? I don't understand anything!" cried Romano.
England pointed at the cat in his hands. "Romano, that is not a cat. That's Spain."
Romano gave a hysterical laugh. "Are you joking?!"
Spain jumped out of Romano's hands, and stepped in front of England, meowing with as much anger as he could.
"Yeah, yeah, you're pissed. Shouldn't have broken my fucking nose in the first place," said England, waving his wand over Spain.
It felt like having thousands of needles all over his skin. Just a second, and then he blinked, and noticed he was much taller.
"I'm gonna break your face again, you fucker!" was the first thing Spain shouted.
England lifted his fists at him, but America grabbed him by the throat, pulling him back.
"We will be leaving now," said America, with a somber expression.
England tried to complain, but America covered his mouth and pulled him away, forcing him out of the house. Before he left, he looked back at Spain.
"That was once…a long time ago," he said.
"Don't make me break your nose too," lashed back Spain.
America and England left, leaving behind an eerie silence. Spain turned around to look at Romano, who had paled at the shock.
"Romano…I tried to communicate, but-" started Spain.
Romano gave a horrified scream and ran upstairs to his room, slamming and locking the door.
