A/N:

End of the world and all that, so I decided to update and celebrate or something like that. Still not convinced.

Anyhow, thank you to all my lovely readers and a big thanks to my reviewers: scarletnight72, SpainsCherry, WhereAreAllTheRabbits, BlueStar1937, Teh Awesome Anon, Mighty Agamemnon, brattyteenagewerewolf, Invader Riyo, Night13, LadyOfHeart, Bre Lolli, Bookslover21, thatshyanon, I-am-the-Wolf, stahp-it, The Puzzler of Riddles, black-misty-sky, Allers3, BAYBAY841, MZS6 Animarine, SaviieDinofish6411, PassionSmile, MoriandMeForever, MiriamTodd321, MelancholyMadness, KitsuneMagic48,lunynha,SinyaLAnweledig, Sesi Braginskaya, SaraBarns, Katarzyna Krimson, AshMeowsYaoi, and Remember Dreaming of Tomarrow. Hope I didn't forget anyone.

Sorry the update took so long, finals took up a lot more of my time than I thought they would, but now that is over and I have nothing better to do with my winter break than write this story. I hope you will enjoy this chapter.

Convincing the three tomato-bastards to go back to Barcelona had been ridiculously difficult. Antonio had not wanted to leave his Ibiza behind, but there was absolutely, no way in hell, I was driving back in that thing. He also kept asking why we had to leave if France and Prussia already knew, to which I would reply: "Because, dammit!" I didn't want to be around those bastards any more than I had to and I knew,I fucking knew, they would just fuck everything up like they always did.

I'd had to bribe España to even get him on the plane since he was convinced it was witchcraft and if man were meant to fly, God would have given him wings. He had grumbled the whole plane ride, and kept shooting me glares as if it were my fault that he had participated in this sorcery. He was still convinced that magic was somehow involved after the plane landed, and probably always would be.

Spain, however, was the first one on the plane and he had jabbered excitedly to anyone who would listen about his first ride on a "plane of air" or some shit like that. The other passengers probably thought he was crazy or that he was just really stupid; which was true on both accounts. I'm sure if Spain knew I'd had to bribe España with a kiss he'd have pretended he didn't want to go.

Now, did España ever get that kiss?

No. As soon as the plane had landed I booked it out of the airport and sat as far away from him during the taxi ride to Antonio's house as I could. Of course that hadn't stopped him from pushing me against the door as soon as we got back to the house and taking one right in front of Spain, who had then demanded that he too should get a kiss. I promptly kicked them both in the shins and stomped away to find Antonio.

As soon as we got back, even before España could kiss me, Antonio had run around to the back of the house, muttering something about his 'pobrecito tomates'.

"Antonio?" I called out once I reached the back of the house. First thing I noticed was that the tomato plants had held up surprisingly well. It must have rained while we were gone. Second thing I noticed was Antonio. He wasn't there.

"Hey, tomato-bastard, where are you?" I called out, half expecting him to pop out from one of the many rows of tomatoes, a couple leaf stuck in his hair and a stupid grin on his face.

"Over here, Lovi!" Antonio emerged from a red shed that stood at the far side of the garden. I used to hide in that shed as a child after I'd broken something or sometimes after the squirrels had broken into my room (Yes, dammit, I am sticking to that story!). The original Antonio would always find me sooner or later, after he'd cleaned up whatever mess I (or the squirrels) had caused, and he would always pick me up and tell me everything was okay and he wasn't angry.

Whenever I broke something his first reaction wasn't to yell at me as it had been with Austria, but to force me to let him see my hands as he checked for any shards or cuts and asked me if I was hurt. I'd never understand how he could be so patient with me. He'd been a teenager in those days, barely a man, but he'd acted much nicer to me than Austria, who was already an adult and didn't have an excuse for having such a short temper with a child. I guess I can't blame Antonio for wanting to trade me for Feli. One can only be patient for so long.

"Lovi?" I flinched, coming out of my dark thoughts to find Antonio standing in front of me. He had a pair of gloves on his hands, a sunhat on his head, and an empty basket in his grip. "What's wrong, mi tomate? You look so sad." He let the basket drop to the ground. I peered up at him; he looked so concerned, the happy smile which was almost always glued to his face was gone. I was not prepared for the warm embrace he pulled me into so I might have hugged back before I realized what I was doing,

"Nothing, bastard." I nudged him away even as I kept my head nestled under his chin and my fingers curled into the soft fabric of his shirt sleeves. He let go and backed up, missing out on the only opportunity of receiving a willing hug from yours truly. Spain would have jumped on that chance like Feliciano on the last bowl of pasta. "What were you doing in the shed? I didn't think you used that old thing anymore."

"Just getting some gloves, Lovi. The tomatoes look okay, but they could probably use a lot of work. Do you want to help?" He asked cheerfully, giving me that stupid, adorable grin of his…did I say adorable? I meant…uh-fuck, know what? I'm not even going to make an excuse, but just know that he is not adorable or anything ridiculous like that.

"I suppose, bastard," I grumbled, stepping past him and going into the shed to find myself a pair of gloves. The inside of the shed was the same as it had always been. A few empty barrels that may have held supplies at one time or another, back when the original Antonio was out conquering the New World. Then again, knowing Spain, it's also possible that they once held wine. There were a few coils of rope, a hose, a few more baskets, a rake, another pair of gloves, some pruning shears, and folded up in of the corners was an old flag.

The flag had been there ever since Spain came home to stay after losing his armada to England. I'd never asked about it, it was tattered and even ripped in places, I'd always just assumed it was from the flagship, the one he had sailed on. I kneeled next to it and carefully opened it, disturbing decades' worth of dust into the air. I had to hold my breath to keep from sneezing as I stared at the faded images of a square of chains, a castle, some red and yellow stripes and a lion wearing a crown. Underneath that was another flag, a white flag with a jagged red X. I'd seen it many times. España's empire. I quickly hide it beneath the other sail, not wanting to remember the times that España would come home covered in blood, not all of it his, and barely breathing. Not that staring at the flag Spain had sailed under was much better.

I know Spain is still angry about the loss of his armada, but that was the only time I had ever been grateful to England for anything. Because of England, Spain had come home and I hadn't been alone anymore – not that I'd missed Spain. I'd just missed having someone around to cook and clean for me and sing lullabies to me on stormy nights as he held me close, make me feel like for once someone gave a damn about me…Alright, I'd always missed him more than anything, even more than Feliciano or Nonno. I know they care, but it's nice to be someone's favorite person in the world. At least, I think I am – was – the original Antonio's favorite person that is.

I should probably have told the tomato-bastard that he was too.

"Lovi?" Antonio walked back to the shed. What could be taking his cute little tomate so long? He didn't get lost did he? No, Lovi was very smart, much smarter than he was, he'd never get lost in a shed. He didn't even get lost in Antonio's house anymore…not often at least. "Lov –"

Lovino was kneeling on the floor in front of the Bandera de Proa o de Tajamar from his – Spain's flagship. He was smiling, but his eyes look sad. Antonio wanted to drop next to Lovino and gather him into his arms and hold him until that sad look was gone and only the smile remained. Or until he hit him and cursed until Antonio would let go.

France and Gilbert had to be wrong. He just wanted to comfort Lovino, he didn't want to sit beside Lovino, tangle fingers in his hair, and turn his head until he could kiss that beautiful smile. No, he didn't want that at all…maybe.

What if his friends had been right?

SMACK!

"As I was saying. Toni, everyone can see it, so what exactly is stopping you?" Prussia ignored Francis's pained grumblings and kept his attention on Antonio.

"What do you mean? I don't understand –"

"You love Romano, right?"

"Of course! I love my Lovi more than anything. Even more than tomatoes." Why would Gilbert ask him this? He knew how he felt about Lovi. He used to chase Francis away didn't he? He never wanted anything to hurt his cute little Lovino, and even though they were best friends, Francis could not be trusted with Lovi.

"Then why aren't you interested in him?" Gilbert snorted, crossing his arms and giving Antonio a smug grin.

"Not interested? I think Lovi is a very interesting person." Antonio blinked at him, his head cocked to one side; Gilbert wasn't making any sense again. Perhaps there was something wrong with him. He hadn't proclaimed his awesomeness in a while, so maybe that was what was wrong with his albino friend.

"That's not what he meant, Antoine. He meant, why can you not accept that you are in love with Romano?" Antonio's heart froze as he stared wide eyed at Francis. What could possibly make him think he was in love with Lovi? Maybe they meant something else. That had to be it!

"You mean like Spain? Or España?" They were in love with Lovi. At least he thought so, they acted like it. His friends were most certainly confused. He didn't act like that towards Lovino, so he obviously wasn't in love with Lovino.

"Exactly like that." The said in unison, both crossing their arms as they smirked at him.

"I raised Lovi! I could never – I see him as a friend, a brother even. Not as – "

"Friends don't cuddle and share beds. Well, not unless they're Francis. And brothers don't get jealous when someone else shows interest." That couldn't be true. Feliciano like to cuddle and share a bed with Lovino.

"I – we're just really good friends!" The shared a look of disbelief. What was wrong with them?! Why were they trying to convince him of these things?

"Tonio, we've been telling you this ever since Romano grew up. Ever since he became independent. Maybe you two were like brothers once, but it's not been like that between you two for a very long time."

"That's just because Lovi moved out, I don't feel any differently about him, I swear!"

"Haven't you ever wanted to kiss him?" The question was genuine even if Francis did look a little too excited by that prospect.

"No!" He blushed at the lie. "Well – uh – there was this one time, but I was just wondering what it would be like to kiss Lovi and I stopped before I actually kissed him. It's not like Lovi wants to kiss me. He only ever kisses Spain. España kisses him sometimes." He frowned at the thought, why did they get to kiss Lovi? Why was Lovi so nice to them? He looked down at his shoes, his brow furrowing. Did Lovi like them better than he liked him? "Can we not talk about this?"

"Toni, why would you be sad about that unless you were jealous?" Gilbert prodded.

"I don't know," Antonio whispered, looking up at his friends for help. Did they know the answer? Every time Romano would kiss Spain, there was a sharp pain in his chest, like someone had stabbed him and kept twisting the knife. Did all friends feel this way? Or was he just afraid of losing Lovi? Maybe Lovino would forget about him if he had Spain. His chest started to ache again so he rubbed at the pain hoping to stop it before it got too bad.

"You're in love with him, Antoine. Trust me. I'm the country of love after all; I'm an expert when it comes to matters of the heart." France rested a hand on his shoulder, effectively stopping Antonio from clutching at the pain.

"You're full of shit, Franny, but for once you're not wrong." Gilbert exclaimed, grabbing onto Antonio's other shoulder. "The sooner you get over this hold up, the happier you and Romano will be. And then it'll be you he kisses." His friends laughed and started telling him a bunch they'd created that would help me get Lovino to love me. Antonio hadn't said a single word, he just stood there in their grasp as his mind shut down.

Antonio had blushed then and he was blushing now just thinking about that conversation with his friends. Okay, so maybe he did like Lovi as more than a friend. Thinking about it, he knew he never felt the same way about Lovi as he did France or Gilbert, certainly not the same way he felt about any of his brothers. What he felt for Lovino was different than friendship, warmer somehow. Looking at Lovino and his rare little smile made his heart flutter, but that didn't mean he was in love with him as Frances and Gilbert seemed to believe. Did it?

"What are you doing, Lovi?" His little tomate jumped, dropping the flag and scrambling to his feet. Antonio grinned as Lovino sputtered out curses and threats of what he would do should he sneak up on him like that again, some of those threats involved creative uses for spoons. "Sorry, Lovi, I was just wondering why you were in here for so long."

"No reason, bas…Antonio." His heart raced, just like it did whenever Lovino would use his human name. Lovino's face was tomato red and all Antonio wanted to do was coo and tell Lovi how cute he was, but that might get him punched in the face. "H-hey, Antonio?"

He looked up at the curly haired Spaniard, the sad look gone from his eyes and replaced with a nervous glance, his eyes not quite meeting Antonio's. He was biting his lower lip and once again Antonio had to tell himself that he did not want to put a hand on either side of Lovino's face and pull him close until their lips met. Antonio cleared his throat and shook his head to vanish such thoughts. "W-what is it, Lovi?"

"I just – uh…you know I don't mean it when I call you a bastard. Don't you?" Antonio's smile softened and he could not stop himself from pulling a blushing Lovino into his arms.

"I know that, Lovi. Why do you ask?"

"I…I was just thinking about the past and how patient you were with me. I was a brat, but you took care of me anyways. I-I never said thank you."

Antonio froze as memories of his days as Lovino's caretaker flooded his mind. He had raised Lovino, he should not be thinking these things. "You don't have to thank me, Lovi," He whispered, hugging the for-once-not-grumbling Italian closer. Francis and Gilbert were wrong. It was his job to protect Lovino just like he used to, that was all.

He let go of Lovino and quickly backed up to the other side of the shed, only stopping once he bumped into the doors. "Well, we better get to work, Lovi," He stuttered, shaking his head again. Do not think about kissing Lovino. It is so very wrong.

Lovino gave him a confused glared. Ah, Lovi. Only he could communicate any and every emotion through glares. So cute.

"Whatever, bastard." He stomped past him, shoving open the door, causing Antonio to fall out and land on his butt in the dirt. "You've been acting weird lately."

"I'm sorry, Lovi." He bowed his head, shame overtaking his face. Lovi probably knew how he felt and was sickened by him. Lovi wouldn't return his feelings. He'd want nothing to do with Antonio if he ever tried to kiss him. Lovino would hate him.

"Come on, Antonio." Lovino held out his hand to help Antonio to his feet. "And stop thinking too much, you'll hurt yourself."

"How'd you know–?"

"You always get really quiet when you're thinking and you frown a lot." He grabbed Antonio's hand and pulled him toward the garden. Antonio stared at their clasped hands. Maybe Lovi wouldn't hate him. He did kiss Spain back, no matter how much he verbally denied it, and Antonio was pretty sure he'd seen Lovi kiss España back too. Maybe if he–!

NO

He was not going to risk his friendship with Lovino. Besides, he wasn't even entirely sure how he felt about the stubborn Italian. This wanting to kiss him could just be a temporary thing; it's not like he wanted what Spain or España wanted from Lovi. He loved Lovino, but not in that way. Definitely not in that way. No matter how tempting the way Lovi was sticking his lower lip out in a pout was.

That bastard was staring at me weird. His eyes kept flicking between my face, somewhere off in the distance, the ground and my lips. If he thought he was going to start acting weird like the others, he could just forget that shit right now. There was no way.

"Stop staring at me, perverted bastard," I growled, wrenching my hand from his and lengthening my stride to put some distance between us. I glanced back to find Antonio standing, rooted to the spot where I'd let go. He looked hurt, not his fake pouting and whining kind of hurt, but genuinely upset.

Dammit, what'd I say now to set him off? "What is it, bastard?" I grumbled, stomping back to him. "Look, I didn't mean it when I called you a pervert, alright?" He looked up at me, the beginning of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You're the only normal one around here." Just as fast that smile disappeared. His face paled and he instead gave me a forced grin and an awkward chuckle.

"Ah, right, Lovi…normal." Shit, Antonio was in one of his depressed, thinking-too-much moods and there was only ever one thing to do that was a sure fire way to get him out of one of his moods. I'm going to fucking hate myself. I know I said this would only happen once but…

"Cheer up, bastard" I grumbled, stepping close enough for me to wrap my arms around him. "You're acting like all the tomatoes in the world have died." I buried my rapidly heating face in his chest as I hugged him, waiting for him to reciprocate.

Antonio's back stiffened and he stopped breathing. "L-lovi, why are you hugging –"

"Don't make a big deal out of it, bastard" I snarled. "Now hug me back or I'm going inside and you can work on the garden by yourself."

Antonio gave me a real laugh this time and let his arms encircle me. "You're so cute, Lovi. You know you can always just ask if you want a hug."

"I didn't want a hug!" I yanked away from him. "You're the one who looked like you needed one! Now stop moping and help me fix up your damn garden." He stared at me blankly for a few uncomfortable seconds before bursting into laughter.

His laugh shouldn't have made me want to smile as much as it did, it shouldn't have made me so happy. It was just his retarded laugh, nothing extraordinary. That didn't stop me from blushing up to my ears and shoving him away before he could notice.

"Come give boss another hug, Lovi!"

"Fuck you!" I yelled, as I snatched one of the baskets up from the ground and headed into the garden. "I don't want a hug from you, bastard."

"Ah, so mean, Lovi." He gave me a fake pout and followed me into the garden. "Don't worry, boss will always be here to protect you."

"The fuck are you talking about?" Protect me from what? France? As if. That's what España was for.

He laughed again. "Nothing, Lovi. Oh! Look at this tomato, Lovi! It's so pretty, just like you. I'm happy they didn't die while I was gone. That would be horrible, wouldn't it, Lovi –" Needless to say, he continued to rant until I wanted to pull my hair out, but for some reason, it was nice to listen to him acting like his old self. I'd have to find out what was wrong with him soon, because I didn't think I could deal with a depressed Antonio much longer.

A/N: Sorry this chapter was so short, it's kind of a filler. Next chapter will be better. Concerning the remaining chapter, I think I have all the ideas I need, but if you have anything else, feel free to tell me, I could always use good suggestions. I think that is all, I have more work than I thought I would over winter break, but that shouldn't stop me from writing. I'll see you in the next chapter, I'm looking forward to this one, so I hope you will like it. Until next time.