#11: Memory
Pairing: Spamano
Words: 826
Being alone in his fields tending the tomato plants seemed to be his only purpose now. Romano had declared independence and left him. Of all of his colonies this break away hurt the most because they had grown closer than any of the other colonies he had ever had. Something about the fiery Italian drew him in and made him want to learn more.
Ever since that day he had felt pride, sadness and a strange sense of closure. He would never have to look after Romano again, the Italian had managed to make his independence possible, but he had left a broken Spaniard in the process. Romano was the last colony to leave him, and now he was all alone. His Italian had been gone for what seemed like years, but was probably only months. As he had every single day alone watering his precious plants he replayed in his head what had happened on that fateful day.
"I-I'm going to be my own country tomato bastard. I can't keep wasting my time with you anymore! I don't need your help!" The bad tempered nation's voice was quivering, and it was obvious that he was scared of his former "boss" and how he would react.
"Good luck Roma," he whispered, already breaking down inside. With a smooth face he left through his back door to prowl in the dense forest that surrounded his vast tomato fields. He had figured at that time that it wasn't right to inflict his temper on the Italian, nor show how heartbroken he truly was. After he was sure that his source of pain had packed up and moved out he returned to his house. And drank himself senseless.
Thanks to that his memory of that night was a bit hazy, and he had a terrible hangover the next morning. For hours he was hunched over the toilet, crying, screaming and throwing up what felt like everything he had ever eaten. And it didn't get better after his stomach was empty, dry heaving for any long period of time was terrible. Much to his relief no one ever found out about that morning, though there were some rather odd questions from France about why he had missed their drinking party that was scheduled for that morning. He was still really confused about what the Frenchman had said, something about if he had "other special arrangements, if you know what I mean."
Day after day, with no reprieve he relived that moment over and over again where Romano was saying goodbye. The pain never lessened, it was still as gut wrenching as the first time it had been directed at him. The only thing that might have soothed him was that this would never really happen again in reality, since the Italian was already gone. Every time he had that thought it made him feel terrible and he would try in vain to distract himself from things like that.
"But things have to change today. I can't stay here moping about the things I've lost. What is this compared to the wars that I've faced, the battles I've partaken in? The brutal knowledge that luck and skill are the only things that keep you alive in a serious fight. Now that I think about it, it's liberating. How can I have allowed myself to live this way? There's no reason for me to hold back now that I have no one worth protecting as my charge." A wild grin appeared on his face. No longer would he sit idle when there were wars to be waged and new countries to be conquered. He could revert back to his original character; there was no reason to be happy and cheery now that Romano had spurned his company. The first thing on his list was to enact revenge on England for a certain sea battle that he was sure that the Englishman had somehow rigged to make him loose his main forces.
His eyes darkening the Spaniard returned to his house and pulled out his favorite axe, the hilt still stained with dried drips of blood. There was no need to modernize things, the older forms of warfare were obviously preferred in the present, and if not why would they be in so many video games? Besides, he wanted to feel like he had vanquished the enemy all those years ago, not today. Another twisted smile appeared and Spain left his home for the first time in two months.
Literally five minutes after he departed Romano's car pulled into the driveway. "I'm only coming because Feliciano convinced me that tomato bastard was having a hard time, not because I wanted to!" The house was empty, and things were arranged differently than he remembered. Older weapons were prominent in the new décor, as were world maps. The only really familiar thing he saw was a newly baked plate of churros on the kitchen counter.
I really enjoyed writing Dark!Spain! This turned out so much different than I originally planned it... My literature teacher decided to assign a huge portfolio, and it's been taking up a lot of my time. I've been writing fanfiction in disguise, even though she said absolutely no fanfiction. What she doesn't know won't hurt her. In fact before a class mate and I told her she had no idea what it was. Really? It should be pretty self explanatory.
