Man, it's been a while. I'm so very sorry D:

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! There are so many, and it makes me a happy, happy person :D Okay, so this chapter is a bit weird, but considering what has happened in previous chapters I don't think anyone will mind much.

Prepare yo'selves. For the yandere!Spain :D

...

Lovino opened his eyes slowly to find that he was not in fact sitting at a table in a meeting. Nor was he even in the hotel. In fact, he was lying in the back of a car, staring up at the roof with a bewildered look on his face. He blinked a few times before straightening up, eyes still wide. He stared out the windshield for a moment, not caring how his hair was sticking up or how his shirt was bunched around his waist. In fact, all he really cared about was how the car was careening down a back alleyway at breakneck speed, and there were gunshots.

Oh, and Spain was driving.

As soon as the situation clicked in Lovino's brain, he went into full freak-out mode. He felt adrenaline start to course through his body, and he started shaking. He slammed his hand onto Spain's shoulder, shaking it violently.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" he screeched, pitching forward as the car hit a pothole and bounced up into the air.

"Lie back down, Lovi," Spain said, not taking his eyes off of the road.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?"

Spain looked briefly to Lovino, his eyes hard. "Get down!"

Lovino dropped back to the seat as a bullet shattered the back window. Spain cursed in Spanish, swerving the car violently as more gunshots peppered the air. Lovino fell sharply against the door of the car, smacking his head against the handle. He cried out, hands coming up to clutch what was probably already forming bruise.

"Are you okay?" Spain asked, turning almost all the way around in his seat.

"Dammit...get your eyes back on the fucking road!" Lovino yelled as the car almost smashed into a wall. He watched in horror as one of the side mirrors scraped against a brick wall and snapped off with a loud crack. Spain reached up to adjust his rearview mirror, and from his place in the back Lovino clearly saw the huge black car following them.

"What's going on?" he screamed over the roar of the air against the absent back window.

"I'll tell you later!"

Another bullet hit the car, embedding itself in the back door. Lovino screamed (but who wouldn't scream?) and dropped to the floor, hiding himself at the foot of the backseat. After a moment, he decided to sit up a little more, looking over Spain's armrest and out the windshield.

It was at that moment that Spain decided that the street they were taking was unsatisfactory, and he suddenly jerked to the left. Lovino fell over again, catching himself on the passenger seat. His heart was pounding nearly out of his chest, and he still had absolutely no idea what the fuck was going on. He stayed that way for a moment, clutching the passenger seat to stabilize himself, concentrating on how he was breathing and trying to calm the hell down.

"Okay."

Lovino jumped as Spain spoke. The older man had remained quiet for a few minutes now, and his voice piercing the dull roar of the back window was unexpected. Lovino took a deep breath.

"I'm going to count to three," Spain started calmly, "And on three you jump out of the left door, got it?"

Lovino blinked. "What?"

"Just trust me."

"I'm not fucking jumping—"

"One…"

Lovino kept protesting, but when Spain didn't respond he moved over to the left side of the car. He put his hand on the handle and squeezed it, waiting. Well, there went the calm, he realized as his heart sped up again.

"Two…"

"Fuck…fuck…fuck…" Lovino muttered under his breath, eyes wide. He prepared his legs for the jump, making sure the door would open.

The moment the word 'three' left Spain's lips, Lovino flung the door open, leaping out of the moving car. He ducked into a roll as he hit the ground, landing without too much pain on his part (you learned things while kidnapped by the mafia.) He heard a thud as Spain slammed into the grass in front of him. Since when had there been grass? He didn't question it, though, as he watched Antonio's car fly off of a cliff, the large, shiny pursuit car following it.

Lovino gave himself a moment to catch his breath. Then, calmly, collectedly, he attacked Spain, shaking his shoulders. "What the fuck was all that?"

Spain stared at Lovino for a second before a grin cracked his face, and he burst into laughter. For almost a minute he sat there, laughing like an idiot as Lovino shook him back and forth. Then he wrapped the Italian man into a bone-crushing hug, still cackling.

"We're alive!" he exclaimed, laughing harder. Lovino took a second to process this.

"You weren't sure we were going to be?"

Spain didn't respond, keeping Lovino in the hug. Then he held the younger man away at arm's length, examining him. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No. No thanks to you."

"Ay, dios MIO that was fun!"

This earned him a well-deserved smack. He kept grinning, even as he held his cheek in pain. Lovino crossed his arms.

"Answer me."

Spain grinned. "I don't really remember. Mostly there was some shooting and we all ran for our cars. I carried you all the way, you know," added proudly, giving Lovino a smug smile.

"I think I would have been okay."

"I'm sure, but for some reason they started following us, and so I had to get you away somehow."

"Who? And why me?"

"I don't know. They just started shooting so I ran. And because, mi Lovi, you're special."

He said the last part with a smirk, leaning in closer. Lovino watched as he crept up his body, until he was almost completely on top of the younger man. It happened in just a second, and he didn't really have time to process. The next thing he knew, Spain's lips were connected with his, and he really couldn't complain anymore.

He leaned back so he was lying down on the grass, Spain on top of him. Their kiss was deeper now, and he sighed into it. Spain smiled, breaking the kiss for just a moment. Lovino found himself, for the first time, not caring where they were or who was watching. Especially as Spain's knee came between his legs, brushing his crotch lightly.

He made a small noise, obviously unsatisfied with the brief touch. He adjusted his hips to regain the pressure, moaning almost silently as Spain got the message and moved his knee slightly. Then his lips were recaptured, and a hand snuck up his untucked shirt. He felt Spain's fingers ghosting over his stomach, then up to his chest, and he sighed contentedly as the older man's fingers brushed over one of his nipples.

"Ah, Lovi…" Spain whispered in his ear, hot breath making him shudder. Spain's hand crept out from under his shirt, drifting lower and lower until it reached the front of Lovino's pants. He made a small noise, his hands coming up to clutch at Spain's back. His breath came out, hot and labored, as Spain's lips left his and started down his neck, licking and kissing until they reached his collarbone. Then, Spain's free hand came up to unbutton his shirt, undoing each button slowly and carefully. Lovino closed his eyes tightly as Spain's hand started to work the front of his dress pants, and just as Spain finished with the last button…

Lovino's head slammed forward, hitting something hard. "Dammit!" he yelled, straightening up. He looked around to see an empty meeting room, and a pile of drool-coated papers in front of him. At first he didn't comprehend exactly what had just happened, and then he realized. It had been a fucking dream. Why hadn't he realized it earlier, that it had been entirely ridiculous? So he gets kidnapped by Spain to avoid some gang or something, and as they are escaping they suddenly start having sex on someone's lawn? What the fuck was wrong with him?

He sighed sharply, standing up. Then he looked up at the clock. So it was lunch already. Well, that had certainly been a productive morning. He realized with a bit of relief that his earlier mood was gone, and he felt like himself again. No more observing everything, no more indifference toward Spain…more like pissed off at Spain…how had he ever forgiven him? Jesus. Asshole.

The memory of the large bruise on France's cheek made the entire thing a bit more bearable, though, so he couldn't be entirely mad. What he could be pissed about, however, was how everyone had just ditched him in the meeting and gone to lunch. They could all go fuck themselves while they were at it. Oh well, he thought, another meal at Starbucks.

"Oh fuck off!"

Lovino whipped around as the voice came echoing down the hallway. He blinked a few times, entirely bewildered. Usually when you heard profanities that loud they were coming from his mouth. There was a thud, and someone cried out. Then there was a quieter voice, the one belonging to the hotel manager. What the hell was going on? He crept out of the meeting room, walking down the hallway as silently as possible.

"Leave me alone, you hijo de puta, before I fucking knock you into hell myself!"

Lovino stopped, just as he was about to peer around the corner into the lobby. The voice…the Spanish…it was all making sense now. That was Spain yelling, and it was something that had never crossed Lovino's ears before. His heart started to beat a bit faster as he realized that, like before, he'd never heard Spain this angry.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave…"

"As if I'd want to fucking stay!"

"Looks like someone's decided to go all Inquisition on us again…"

There was a thud, and Lovino realized with a bit of nausea that it was flesh hitting flesh. There was a silent moment, and all he could hear was the pulse of his heartbeat in his chest. He scrunched his eyes closed, working up the courage to enter before taking a step into the room. At first he went unnoticed, but as his staring became more pronounced all eyes shot to him.

What he saw made his stomach drop.

There stood Spain, a deathly glare directed at the man lying on the floor. It was France, and he appeared to be unconscious. Lovino's eyes could do nothing but get wider and wider as each person in the room turned to look at him. Finally, Spain's gaze fluttered up, and the older man froze. He remained, completely motionless, as panic and confusion flicked across his face. Then, he did something that made Lovino's breath catch in his throat.

A warm smile, one that even reached his eyes, found its way into Spain's features. "Mi Lovi…" he said quietly, and his eyes started to look a bit sad. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"I…" Lovino tried speaking, but nothing would come out. "Ah…"

Spain stepped over France's motionless body, walking toward Lovino. The younger man took an unconscious step backward, and he saw Spain's face fall as he did it. A sad smile still held its place, however, and it was confusing.

"Please don't be afraid of me," Spain said, and the emotion in his voice was starting to gnaw at Lovino's defenses. He swallowed thickly, finally managing to force out a few words.

"What did…what did you do?"

The horror in his mind must have read in his words, because Spain sighed. "I'm sorry."

"What did you DO?" The reality of the situation seemed to crash over Lovino. He knew he shouldn't be as disturbed as he was by this…he knew that these things happened…hell, he knew about Spain's history but for some reason he hadn't really understood. Spain was a violent person. Spain hurt people. Spain hurt France…and even through the hatred that Lovino felt for the Frenchman he still felt a bit sick when he looked at the unconscious man on the floor.

"He deserved it," Spain reasoned, realizing that trying to pretend like the incident hadn't occurred was proving fruitless.

"How?"

Spain examined Lovino's face for a moment before answering. "He made you cry."

Before he realized what was happening Lovino was already halfway down the street. He had run, and when he started to run he didn't stop until he was as far away from whatever threat there was as possible. He stumbled to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk, about two blocks away from the hotel. He caught himself on the side of a building, ignoring everyone who passed by. His breath came out ragged and choppy, and he sank down to the ground.

If it had been anyone else, anyone else at all, he would have stayed. He wouldn't have freaked out like that. But because it was Spain, of all people, was why he had left. Oh God. Spain did that. Spain did all that. He'd never seen the older man do anything like that before. It was…it was absolutely terrifying.

His hand came up to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. Jesus. He sighed, sitting on the ground until he caught his breath. Then he stood slowly, taking his hand away and blinking. People walked around him, barely noticing he was there. That is, until…

"Romano!"

He whipped around to see Germany looking at him curiously. Feliciano was clutching his arm, eyes wide. Lovino blinked again, and only as his little brother came rushing forward did he realize that his eyes were wet.

"What's wrong?" Feliciano asked, his voice thick with worry. Lovino shook his head, rubbing at his eyes furiously. When he felt sure that they were dry he looked at his brother, his face in its usual scowl. Feliciano put his hand on Lovino's shoulder.

"I'm okay."

"Then why were you crying?"

"I wasn't crying!"

"Lovi…"

"I'm good. It's all good."

Feliciano didn't look convinced. "Who made you cry?"

"No one."

"Who?"

"Nessuno."

"Did you stub your toe?"

Lovino shoved Feliciano's hand away. "Fuck you."

"We were going to lunch, do you want to come?"

Lovino's eyes flicked to Germany, who looked like he was seconds away from protest. Feliciano looked too, and as he saw the potato bastard's expression his turned into one of exasperation.

"Sure," Lovino said, sending a small smile Germany's way. He knew that its effect would be muddled by the red rings he was positive surrounded his eyes, but he didn't really care. There was a pause, and then Germany shook his head.

"Fine."

"Ve~!" Italy squealed. Lovino had never really known what that meant, but he didn't care. The next second he found himself being dragged down the street, nearly tripping over his feet. In a moment they were inside a restaurant, with Germany in close pursuit. Lovino couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard the blond nation grumbling to himself, and it wasn't in English.

"Lovi! Let's sit over there!" Feliciano pointed excitedly at the only empty table in the entire restaurant. Lovino sighed. Trust his little brother to find the most crowded restaurant in the city for the two most introverted countries. He sat down on one side, letting Feliciano and potato bastard get the bench.

Almost immediately they were attacked by a waitress. Literally. She pounced on them, a vibrant grin plastered on her face.

"Hey! I'm Kelly and I'll be your server today! We have a bunch of new specials today in case you guys are feeling extra-hungry! I hope you are, because we have some of the best food in town!" she nearly screamed as she handed them all menus. So not only would the restaurant be crowded, but they'd have to wait for food, too. Couldn't Feliciano pick 'em.

"Anyone want a drink? We have lemonade and coke and tea and coffee and water and wine but you'll have to show me your ID first if you want that! You're all over legal age, right?" she said brightly, the grin still maintaining its place on her face. Lovino marveled at how she got all that out on one breath. Feliciano and his bitch ordered whatever. Lovino swallowed.

"Water."

"Okey dokey! I'll be back in just a few minutes to take your orders! Like I said, we have a lot of specials today and—oh, excuse me!" Someone flagged her down from another table, and the Kelly was gone.

There was a long pause. "I feel like I was just hit by a bus," Germany said quietly.

"Or Feliciano."

"Hey!"

Lovino sighed, looking around. There were about a million people inside, but he could still see the street through the large windows. He watched a few people walk by. There was always such a variety, when you looked at big cities. Tall people, short people, skinny, fat, male, female, beautiful, ugly, this language, that language. That was one of the reasons why Lovino hated cities. He hated people. All of them. There were a few exceptions, maybe. But not many. They all had problems and emotions and they were so exhausting. He had enough to do with his own life, let alone those of others.

"Can you tell me now?"

"Huh?" Lovino's head snapped to Feliciano, who was looking at him expectantly.

"Why were you crying?"

"I wasn't crying."

"Why?"

Lovino sighed sharply. "It doesn't matter. It's not important anymore."

"You were crying. In the street. Was it Spain?"

Lovino froze. "Don't say that."

Feliciano looked confused. "What?"

"…him."

"What about him?"

"Don't say his name."

"So he was why!" Feliciano's face brightened at having figured it out. "Did he say something to you?"

"No."

"What did he do then?"

"Why do you care?"

Feliciano looked hurt. "I'm your brother."

"I don't want to tell you, okay?"

There was a pause, and then Feliciano nodded. Germany was scowling straight ahead, but he jumped when the young Italian man grabbed his hand. Then his expression softened, and he gave Feliciano a small smile. Man. Lovino chucked to himself. Feli had the guy whipped.

A few moments later Kelly returned, a plate of drinks in her hand. She passed them out to the wrong people, still grinning wildly. It was a wonder she didn't have these big badass cheeks from all the muscle she used smiling. That was a creepy thought, and Lovino dismissed it.

It took him a moment to realize that everyone was staring at him. He blinked a few times, looking at them curiously. Kelly's eyes were bright, and it was kind of scary.

"What would you like?"

Oh. He looked down at the menu closed in front of him. He hadn't even bothered to look at anything, so he just pointed at Feliciano. "What he's having."

"Okey dokey! So, it's one ham-and-potato breakfast tray…" figures "…and two spaghettis?" Also figures. "Alright! I'll be out in just a few minutes, so you guys hang tight!"

There was no conversation for a few minutes, so Lovino took to staring out the window again. It was okay to watch other people as long as he wasn't obligated to mingle with them. As person by person walked by, Lovino started to relax. Feliciano and Germany were talking, so hopefully they wouldn't engage him in any kind of conversation soon.

As the figures went by the window, one caught Lovino's eye. He froze, his breath catching in his throat.

Green eyes met his own, standing out brightly on the tanned face. Dark, curly hair…oh God. Lovino sank down into the seat as Spain opened the restaurant door and stepped inside. His eyes never left Lovino's, but there was something different about them. Instead of becoming immediately soft and light as they fell upon the Italian man, they remained hard and restrained.

Ignoring the waitresses' attempts to gain his attention, Spain immediately strode over to Lovino's table. Germany and Feliciano were completely oblivious to the situation, but Lovino remained motionless as he stared at the approaching figure. Oh goddamn it. He swallowed thickly, wondering briefly why he was even this nervous.

It was the look on Spain's face. It wasn't scary, it wasn't dark, it wasn't anything at all. Blank, that's what it was. Lovino had never, never seen anything but a light smile…or a grin…or some kind of positive expression on Spain's face. Now, completely blank, it scared him. It honestly scared him to death.

"Ve…Spain, what are you doing here?" Feliciano asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Spain didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed Lovino's arm, yanking him out of the seat. The chair was knocked backwards, and Lovino nearly fell over at the surprising force of the pull. He stumbled, and someone else in the restaurant swore. Lovino's eyes widened as he struggled to keep his balance.

One of the waitresses came up and asked Spain to leave, and when Spain didn't answer she said she would call the police.

"We're going," he said sharply, pulling Lovino to the door. Once again the Italian man stumbled, but he didn't say anything. He wasn't sure he could. Feliciano jumped up from his seat, and Germany followed.

"Where are you going?" Germany asked, straightening up and using his full authority. Spain whirled around, the blank look still in place on his face.

"Leave me alone. We need to talk."

Feliciano protested, but by that time Lovino could see the waitress with a phone pressed tight to her ear. A second later Spain had pulled him out onto the street, nearly dragging him out of the building.

The street was considerably less crowded than before, so nobody saw as Spain pulled the young man, who still hadn't gained enough of his bearings to protest, down the sidewalk. Lovino was still in complete shock. The entire event had happened in just a few seconds, and he still couldn't get over the look on Spain's face. The look was still there, but it seemed sharper. Like irritation…or…or grief.

The next thing he knew, Lovino's back was being pressed into a wall, in the alley just next to the restaurant. Spain was staring at him, eyebrows pulled down angrily. He was holding the younger man to the wall by his shoulders, and Lovino barely registered pain as the rough bricks dug into his shoulder blades.

Lovino's mouth opened as if to say something, but he couldn't. Spain's eyes flicked over him, over his entire face, and then…just as suddenly as the blank look had appeared it was gone, replaced by one of regret.

"I'm sorry, Lovi."

"You better be, you bastard."

Lovino was surprised as the words came from his mouth. The malice they held was very thinly veiled, and Spain sighed.

"There are no excuses for my behavior."

"Let go of me."

Lovino's protests went unnoticed, and Spain continued. "France has been taken care of. Nothing he said was true. Okay?"

Lovino paused, trying to figure out what Spain had just said. Did he…he thought… "You really think I fucking care about fucking France?" he asked, completely incredulous.

Spain looked momentarily confused. "Last night he made you upset."

"Everyone makes me upset," Lovino said, eyes widening as he realized that Spain had done all this because…because he'd been crying? That was it?

"No. Not anymore."

There was a pause. "What do you mean?"

Spain's lips curled into a smile. He must have been bipolar or something. Manic-depressive. And here came the manic. He shifted closer to Lovino, keeping him pinned against the wall.

"Te amo, Lovi. Te quiero."

Lovino was about to protest again when Spain leaned in to his side. He froze as hot breath curled into the shell of his ear.

"And I know you want me."

...

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Evil Spain is so much fun to write. I promise that a plot will get going soon, too. It's a lovely plot as well, trust me. ;)

Sorry if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes, I don't edit. Anything. orz

Review, favorite, love, hate...sans the last one :D