This chapter was a pain. Tugged at my heart strings and hopefully it'll have the same effect on you. I can't say though XD Well, school's been as unrelenting as ever so I'm quite proud at how this chapter turned out considering the fact that I have a project that was assigned Thursday and is due Monday. I hate my history teacher. Anywho, It's 12:30 AM my time, it's been raining all day and I'm hungry. So I'm going to engorge myself in foods that I don't need to eat but will be eaten anyway.

Thank you so much to those following and reviewing this story! It means so much! You guys are the very reason why I push myself to write on some days! Please don't give up on me!

Happy reading~

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

Warnings: None.

Chapter Four

Antonio sat there at the end of the dock, kicking his legs back and forth over the freezing water. He had been crying for what seemed like hours and he no longer had any tears. They were swimming in this large body of water before him, melting with the sky's tears and possibly the tears of others who came here to mourn. Staring at his reflection, he imagined his father was sitting there beside him, smiling gently at him. Cheeks flushed with cold, a small one played at the boy's lips but it quickly vanished.

His dad had left him…

His daddy… didn't want him anymore.

He no longer mattered.

He was no longer loved.

Staring at his reflection rippling on the surface of the lake, Antonio studied his features with a dull stare.

Chestnut curly hair.

Lightly tanned skin.

Bright emerald eyes.

Thinking back to his father, he immediately spotted the differences.

Dark brown hair.

Olive complexion.

Forest green eyes.

They were so different from one another. Could they really be father and son with such differences wedging between them? He could've gotten such characteristics from his mother, sure. But he had never met or seen his mother before. There weren't any pictures of her anywhere in his house. Did he even have a mom? His dad had never mentioned her, to tell the truth. Every time Antonio asked, his daddy would just change the subject to something completely irrelevant and turn Antonio's train of thought onto a different track.

However, Antonio did notice there was such a sad look in his father's eyes when it happened to be brought up. Never had he seen such a sorrowful gaze in the forest eyes that were specked with amber.

Something terrible must've happened to her, Antonio reasoned. That's why he doesn't want to tell me. He doesn't want me to be sad, too.

The boy suddenly had another thought: who was that man with his dad? He sure didn't look too happy to see Antonio at all. In fact, the guy seemed rather annoyed with him. Antonio had never even got the chance to know him! Why did he already hate him?

"You'll see in due time, whether you like it or not."

What did that guy mean? What was he supposed to see?

"He's not Marcello," Antonio said aloud, shuddering at the mention of that murderer's name. "And I've never seen him before—only in my dream… at least I don't think I have. Maybe he's a friend of Daddy's…"

Wait—that's it! He is one of his dad's friends! Antonio had seen him in a picture before!

What was his name again? It started with an A…

"Antonio!" the boy beamed, getting to his feet. "His name is Antonio just like me! Daddy said I was named after his friend that died! But wait… if his friend died then how is he here?"

"Papa might know!" Antonio brightened at the thought of his dad. He then grew somber. "What if he doesn't want to see me? He said he didn't know who I was…"

Antonio felt his eyes brim with tears and streams of distress pooled over his cheeks.

"D-Daddy…"

Lovino was silent the entire way home, staring at nothing but the sidewalk they walked on. The Spaniard holding his hand stole glances over his shoulder, concern shining through his eyes. Antonio sighed. Maybe he had come off too harsh when talking to that kid back there. It was just a kid after all…

"Lovi?"

"What?" Lovino's tone cut through the conversation with a razor's edge.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine."

"I'm fucking cold, okay? It's snowing out here. I'm freezing!" Lovino grumbled.

"We're almost home, Lovinito. I'm sorry," Antonio smiled sympathetically. "We shouldn't have walked."

"Just… whatever."

Antonio stopped in his tracks and Lovino sent him a questioning stare.

"There's something else that troubling you, querido. Why won't you tell me? Please?"

The Italian sighed, "It's that little boy. He seemed… so upset. He was so convinced that I was his dad. And then… I thought about the kid in my dream and everything fit for just a split second. But it slipped. I couldn't remember anymore. He was so sad…"

"You're upset," Antonio said.

"What?"

Antonio wiped away the unknown tears with lightly calloused thumbs. "You're crying."

Lovino's fingers ghosted across his tear dampened cheek. He was crying? Why? Why was he crying? He had nothing to be upset over, right?

…right?

Lovino couldn't help his mind travelling back to the little boy from before. He looked so distraught, so desperate. He pled to Lovino. He clung to his leg, begging him to remember something that never happened. Those bright emerald eyes so full of tears… he had seen those somewhere before. But where? Where would he have seen such eyes?

"Please don't leave me!"

His heart became heavy with grief as the child's voice echoed in his muddled mind.

"Daddy, it's me. Remember? I-I'm your son!"

Son…

Such a foreign word…

Such a foreign… beautiful word.

A sharp pain shot through Lovino's head, leaving him staggering and falling into Antonio's waiting embrace. The stab intensified, digging deeper into his mind, killing everything about the boy he had just met. The area around him began to spin as his agony worsened, centering at his memory and splintering outward in a breathtaking migraine.

Everything hurt.

His head.

His soul.

His heart…

"Lovi? Are you all right? What's wrong?" Antonio questioned.

Why? Why was he hurting? He didn't understand so the Italian remained silent. It felt as if something was drilling deep into his heart, into the very regret he had for leaving the child behind in such weather. That poor, poor boy… who were his parents? Why would they leave him behind?

Don't forget, someone whispered in his head. You mustn't forget!

What am I supposed to remember? Lovino asked it.

Your son! You can't forget your son!

A son? Lovino repeated it. I have a son?

No. You don't have a son. It's just been you and Antonio all this time. No one else.

Lovino clutched at his head. Who was right? Who was wrong? Did he have a son or not? How was he supposed to tell? Who was he supposed to believe? Should he believe either of them?

"Lovi? Querido, what's wrong?" Antonio wondered. He wished for nothing more than his tomato to be okay. The pained expression on the Italian's face was too much for him to bear. He had been told the process was a painful one—to tear one's memory apart was no easy feat. But he never expected it to be of this magnitude. Antonio watched Lovino's internal battle commence, unable to do or say anything that would take away this agony.

Stop lying to him!

What reason do I have to lie? I am telling the truth. He doesn't have a son—not anymore.

Give him back to me, you bastard! Where is he! Lovino demanded.

Like I said: you don't have a son. He caused you nothing but pain and I took that pain away. Besides, he didn't want you as your dad anymore, remember? Remember how much it hurt when he said it? Do you want to go through that again? I brought you happiness, Lovino. Here, you are safe. Here, you have everything you could ever want: your parents, an outstanding career, the perfect little brother and most importantly, Antonio. What more could you ask for? What more could you want? Aren't you happy here?

Happy… the word echoed in Lovino's cluttered, broken mind. I… am happy.

That's right. Sever all bonds with that ungrateful boy and stay here where you will be happy for all eternity. Give me your soul and you will know peace.

Like the snow on the ground and glistening from the barren trees, Lovino felt his heart grow cold and the distress he had for the upset child dissolved into nothing. He slipped into unconsciousness and fell limp in Antonio's arms, overcome by such an emotional casualty. A few lamenting tears strayed from Lovino's now closed eyes and Antonio quickly eliminated them.

He now hoped that the boy had been done away with. His querido didn't need to be in anymore pain. He had endured too much and it was high time for some light trickle into Lovino's murky world. He had to make sure that boy stayed away from Lovino at all costs until the Italian was back on his feet again. Antonio loved Lovino too much to cause the latter more grief. And it was all because of some kid who didn't cherish the love his father had given him. Well, Antonio wasn't going to let Lovino's heart continue being dragged through the dirt.

It was time that kid experienced just as much pain as his lover had tenfold.

Antonio carried the Italian tenderly in his arms, leaving a feathery kiss on his head to will the pain away.

"Don't worry, Lovi. He won't hurt you anymore. I promise. When you wake up, there will be no pain. You won't be sick anymore."

He was answered by Lovino's reassuring silence and replenishing slumber.

The wind began picking up speed in the dead of night, carrying snow with pebbles of hail and Antonio shivered violently. It pounded against his thin frame, this snow and hail, and the boy hurried to seek shelter. His first thought was to return home but he pushed that from his mind. He couldn't go back there. That man would just throw him out and keep his dad away.

And his dad may tell him to go, too. His father didn't even recognize him.

Trudging through the unrelenting winds, Antonio knew he had to find shelter otherwise he'd freeze to death overnight. The flimsy sweater wasn't doing much for him. On top of that, he was getting hungry. He had to find food somewhere and every store in town was closed. Digging through trashcans wasn't exactly a first choice.

With the streetlamps guiding him, he ran up to the first house he saw, ignoring the familiar air about it. He shuddered at the front door, knocking but soon realized that no one was home. Compelled to find another way in and not caring about being thought a thief, Antonio went around the back, scanning for any way to get inside. The boy tried the first window he saw within reach and the next, growling in frustration when it was locked.

Antonio tried one final window before he would move on. He pushed up against it and to the greatest relief, it easily slid open to and warmth welcomed him in its embrace. The child climbed through the window and landed clumsily inside the house, shutting it noiselessly to hush the howling wind.

He swiftly turned on his heel, expecting to see the owners of the house glaring him down. He was only met with an empty living room illuminated by a single lamp. The room sang familiarity to him. He felt as if he'd been in this house before. It was so odd.

Antonio removed his soaked shoes and placed them by the front door. Since he invaded this home, the least he could do is not leave a mess. The four year old set himself on the couch and reveled in its warmth, immediately falling into a deep slumber.

Emilio and Adelita Carriedo returned home after a day out in the town, ready to call it a night. Emilio allowed his wife to step inside first, following suit shortly after. Adelita slipped out of her coat, preparing to hang it up in the closet but froze completely at the sight before her.

"What is it?" Emilio wondered, coming to stand beside his wife.

"It's a little boy…" she trailed off, unable to say anything more while watching the child sleep peacefully.

"A little boy?" Emilio raised an eyebrow at the boy.

Adelita knelt beside Antonio, brushing back the Spanish child's damp curls of hair. Antonio stirred, revealing bleary emerald eyes full of exhaustion. Adelita smiled kindly to disarm the boy and Antonio immediately sat up, his eyes darting between the man and woman.

"I-I'm sorry for coming in. It was just so cold outside and—and a window was open and—"

"Shh, it's okay," Adelita stroked the Antonio's cheek gently. "No need to explain. You are more than welcome to stay the night. Are you hungry?"

Antonio nodded furiously.

The woman kept her gentle smile, "Let's first get you out of these clothes and give you a bath. You're soaking wet. Emilio, would you be a dear and get the bath started for him while I find some suitable clothes for him to wear?"

"Sure," Emilio held his hand out to the child.

Antonio hesitantly took it and allowed the man to lead him up the stairs to the bathroom. Upon arriving, Emilio immediately turned on the tap and while the tub filled, he grabbed towels for Antonio. The four year old sat beside the porcelain tub, watching the bubbles gather on the surface of the water.

"Call us if you need anything," Emilio smiled and left the bathroom.

Antonio undressed himself and stepped into the warm water, grinning as it sent a pleasant feeling throughout his freezing body. The bubbles tickled his nose and he giggled. These people were so nice. They didn't even mind he had entered their home without their permission. He struck lucky. Other people wouldn't have been so nice and caring.

Antonio was soon bathed and dressed and downstairs in the kitchen, feeling much better than he had before. Adelita was kind enough to wash his clothes that were covered in mud. His shoulder was picking through the collar of the shirt that draped over him like a gown and he immediately fixed it while Adelita made him some tomato soup.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Carriedo," Antonio smiled, remembering his manners.

"You're very welcome, Antonio," Adelita poured the steaming soup into a bowl and placed it on the table in front of the child. "Sorry it's not anything luxurious."

"Lu-lux-luxurious?" Antonio prattled over the complicated word. "What does that mean?"

"It basically means really fancy or nice," Adelita laughed lightly.

"Oh okay," Antonio nodded in understanding and began wolfing down the soup, almost burning his throat in the process.

"Whoa, slow down there, kid. You'll get a stomachache," Emilio mussed Antonio's head of thick curls with a grin.

Antonio matched it and finished his soup, handing his bowl to Adelita who offered to give him some more.

"So Antonio," Emilio began, watching the boy eat to his heart's content. "Why were you outside all by yourself? Where are your parents?"

Antonio's shoulders slumped and his expression grew somber.

"Are you an orphan…?" Adelita treaded carefully over her words.

"N-No…" Antonio shook his head, feeling his eyes well with tears. "M-My daddy and I had a fight and…"

"And…?"

Antonio sniffled and hiccupped in his broken tone, "He doesn't want me a-anymore. He doesn't want as h-his son…"

Adelita pulled the boy into her lap and stroked his head gently, rocking back and forth to soothe him. Antonio clung to her, strangely feeling safe with this woman. Only one word came to mind at this point: mother. She was holding and comforting him as if he was her own child. And if he didn't know any better, he would say they were related. They shared more of a resemblance than he and his father did.

He soon heard her singing a lullaby in a voice that rang like the bells of heaven above.

"Come little child,

I'll take thee away,

Into a land of enchantment."

Antonio's eyes grew heavy as he listened to the song of her beating heart and the words of the gentle lullaby rocking him to sleep.

"Come little child,

The time's come to play,

Here in my garden

Of shadows."

The boy felt light and his eyes grew heavier by the second. The tune hummed inside his head and sleep almost had him in its clutches.

"Follow sweet child;

I'll show thee the way;

Through all the pain and

The sorrows;

Weep not poor child,

For life is this way,

Murdering beauty and

Passions."

Antonio's jade orbs slipped closed and in that moment, he was back at home and his father was holding him lovingly in his strong arms, protecting from anything and everything. Here, he knew he was safe. Here, everything was perfect for the boy of only four.

Emerald and sapphire met in a gaze that darkened upon hearing the boy snoring softly. Smirks soon replaced the tender smiles that graced their faces. With a guileless boy such as Antonio, getting rid of him would be a challenge worth laughing at.

But for now, it was time to play with the kid's heart strings.

And cut them entirely.

The early morning sunlight illuminated the hidden flecks of amber within olive eyes that flittered open with the birds' merry tune for those still lying in bed. The owner of such eyes sat up and slid out of bed with ease, moving out of the room and down the stairs with a lighter step in his stride. He combed a hand through his matted brunette hair and poured himself a glass of orange juice upon arriving in the kitchen.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist, fitting perfectly and pulling him close.

"Good morning, Lovi," the Spaniard whispered in his ear affectionately. "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine," Lovino calmly took a small sip of his juice. "Sorry about that little episode yesterday. I wasn't myself, if you didn't notice."

"Yeah, you gave us quite the scare. You kept rambling on about the little boy the entire way home. Do you know who I'm talking about?" Antonio said.

Lovino turned to face Antonio entirely and raised eyebrow in question, "What little boy?"

"The one who claimed to be your son."

"What're you talking about, Antonio? I don't have a son. Are you feeling okay?

Antonio smiled, "I'm feeling much better, Lovi."