2010
"I...didn't know you were interested in...you know."
Emirates took his eyes off Reccared's cross for a second to chuckle.
"My museums are thirsty for art from all around the world. And Christian too, yes. This" he said, pointing at the crucifix, "is a fine example of Visigoth goldsmithing. The amount you asked for it is fair. I will make you a check right now."
And so he did, right in front of Spain. The Iberian nation saw a generous amount of zeros in the paper.
"I'm just wondering..." Emirates said, giving it to him. "Isn't it a pity for you, having to get rid of it, after so long?"
Spain smiled, caressing the paper with the tip of his fingers.
"Not that I'll forget Reccared without it. These things...they are just objects, after all."
"Debatable. But I respect your decision. I am very pleased about our deal. I hope it helped you improve your situation..."
Spain wasn't sure if Emirates said that mockingly. Everybody knew he was not in his best moment, and he, one of the richest guys in the world, one of the few who had not been affected by that worldwide crisis...No. Probably he was imagining things.
"Yeah, it was a pleasure" Spain smiled, shaking his hand.
So he returned home, in the cheapest fly he was able to find to Emirates' house, with a good amount of money in his pockets, and the first thing he did after cashing it was making a few visits.
First, a priest who fed the hungry in Vigo. Then, a free school for hairdressers in Granada. Later, an association for the unemployed in Madrid. And after that, a daycare center for families with no resources in Cáceres. The last stop was in Tarragona, where a neighborhood association was gathering food for those who needed it.
"But Mr. Spain!" the president exclaimed when Spain showed up with all those shopping trolleys filled with non-perishable and varied food and hygiene products.
"Antonio, please. No mister" Spain smiled.
"A-Antonio, this is too much, why..."
"It's the least I can do...I have failed you too many times, I'm afraid, and I hope this can make up for it."
Yes, with actions like those he was honoring God too, there was no need for a golden cross...
Those were being tough months, being penniless, but at least he had little moments of peace and fun. Like the World Cup.
"..."
The man sat by his side in the plane was staring at him for so, so long Spain turned his head to him and smiled.
"Hola."
"...Aren't you the nation?" the man asked, removing his reading glasses.
"Yep."
"I always wanted to tell you something."
"Oh, yeah? What is it?"
"Why did you let faggots get married? Franco would be ashamed."
And with that, and after shaking his head with disappointment, he kept reading his newspaper. Spain kept smiling, nevertheless.
"...Huh" he muttered. Yep, one met the best people in tourist class.
It was the final match against Holland. His team had made it. He was so proud no one and nothing could spoil it.
"Wow! Your boys are good!" he said to his little brother, sat by his side.
"I know" he said as he lit a cigarette.
"I think it's forbidden to smoke here, you know?"
"Says who?" Holland replied. Yeah, the game was being really close. Spain felt so nervous he was squeezing one of his paper tissues.
"It isn't tobacco, right?"
"Mmm."
It was then when Holland's player, De Jong, kicked Spain's Xabi Alonso in the chest so hard Spain flinched.
"Owww!"
But the referee only saw something worth a yellow card.
"Yellow?! Are you kidding me?! Yellow?! That was an attempted murder!" Spain was so outraged he stood up.
"He didn't mean it" Holland calmly said.
"Sure you defend him!" Spain complained, frowning at him.
Holland didn't take it into account. Spain was very passionate, and the game was being really exciting. When the time ended, they were in a 0-0 tie. They had to wait for the overtime for a result.
"¡Vamos, Iniesta! ¡Vamos, Iniesta! ¡Vamos, Iniesta!" Spain yelled, getting up unconsciously with every Iniesta he pronounced, as the player ran to the rival goal. Holland also leaned forward, his hand squeezing the seat.
And then...
"¡GOOOOOOOOOOOOL!" Spain shouted even more than the announcer. He jumped out of his seat and forgetting about Holland, who just took a long drag with a frown, ran to the field to hug the one who gave him the victory and kiss his bald head.
"Iniesta of my life!" he filled his face with kisses.
Just for a moment, he forgot about his financial straits. It seemed so small in comparison...
2015
«You and I have unfinished business, you can't keep ignoring me like-»
Spain stopped the video and left it aside, opening the video recording app. Mexico's and Venezuela's words about him, about what he did to their lands, to their mothers, to them, was still in his head—ah, Venezuela! he hoped she was eating well!—, and wondered if this would change things. He wondered if those people would forget what he did to their ancestors, if the hate had passed on from generation to generation and he would always be the ogre, the Big Bad Spanish Empire.
He shook his head and pressed the record button.
"I know I have made mistakes in the past and I want to compensate them. Things have changed in five hundred years...I have changed. That is why all Sephardic Jews descendants of the millions that were expelled from our home are welcome back and will be able to acquire citizenship. I know this will not repair the damage I caused, but I want you to know...I am very sorry."
Spain stopped recording and sent the video to his press bureau, which would make sure this reached the right people.
After that, he checked the time ad saw it was time to get moving. He didn't want to be late for his meeting with the producers.
Oh, a new text from Catalonia.
«Spain, I saw you've opened the text, you desvirgagallines de los coll-»
Spain again ignored it to write one for Juan Carlos.
«So, where are you, bribón, hunting in Africa or in the bed of some blondie?» He allowed himself to be this direct because he had met many kings in his life and knew all of them had had their little affairs. He was not judging, though. He supposed they couldn't help themselves. «Asking you in case you're free to have a beer with me or something.»
Then another one for Philip.
«Happy first year of reign! Rate your experience. 5=I love Antonio / 4=He's a good guy / 3=I would rather be Holland's king / 2=Oh, God, why / 1=One of these days I'll jump out a window.»
He answered almost immediately. He surely caught him in one of this moments of inactivity.
«5/5. Would repeat. :-P»
Spain chuckled. After that, he put music on to make his way to the studios more lively.
I used to roll the dice / Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes / Listened as the crowd would sing, /"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!" / One minute I held the key / Next the walls were closed on me / And I discovered that my castles stand / Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand
"It is an immense honor to have you" the lady who greeted him, a young lady who introduced herself as Alicia, said to him with a great smile. "We couldn't have found a better consultant."
"I am so honored to help! I really like the idea. And it brings back so many memories..." Spain smiled.
"So, about the script..."
"I gave my correction to your partner. There were mostly mistakes about the language which was used those days. But it was mostly excellent! Well done!"
"We are carrying out some characterization tests on Philip II. Since you lived with him, would you mind if..."
"It'll be a pleasure."
He was taken to the make-up room, where he faced a ghost.
"Do I look like him?" the actor asked.
Spain smiled after a short pause.
"May I hug you?" he asked, and his eyes were a bit watery when he made that question.
2018
«ETA releases statement announcing its complete dissolution. Historic declaration puts an end to the organization 59 years after it first launched its violent campaign for Basque independence.»
Clink!
Spain and France clinked their glasses and took a sip.
"We did it, man...We did it..." Spain sighed.
"Aren't we the best? Not going to lie, we are the best" France smiled.
"Mmmh!" Spain licked his lips. "I don't want to admit it, but your champagne might be slightly better than mine."
"I mean, isn't it obvious?"
France caressed the lip of the cup with a finger.
"That reminds me...I did not ask you sooner because I supposed you'd still be recovering from what happened in Barcelona and Cambrils, but...how are things with your sister Catalonia?"
"She's...been acting like a brat lately. She's declared herself independent and doesn't want to hear any word I say to her. She's like 'I am an adult and a real nation and you treat me like a maid!'. As if I didn't have enough with my little siblings in Latin America attacking me for something I did five centuries ago...Did Canada do these things to you?"
"Canada? Oh, no. Absolutely. Mon petit didn't go through that phase, luckily..."
"She's been sneaking into our meetings, trying to be recognized by you guys, right? Someone told me the other day."
"Okay, it's been a mistake bringing up the topic and giving you alcohol. This was supposed to be a celebration, and if I know you well, which I do, you will soon start with the 'buaaah, my children don't love me' and all of that, and I don't want you to spoil my Vuitton shirt with your tears and snot..."
"Yes, that's what I'm saying, why did you bring it up, you asshole? You're always putting your finger on the sore spot and twisting it..."
"I'm not going to lie, I kind of miss it, fighting you. It became as natural as breathing. Now that we have nothing to face together, what are we going to do?"
France left his cup on the table and joined his fingers.
"This is the way I see it: we either make war or we make love. There is no in-between."
Spain stirred his glass in thought. Then, he placed his glass on the table too and looked at France, opening his arms.
"...I've been married to guys but actually have no idea of how to make love to them: you'll have to break the ice, nation de l'amour."
France chuckled and broke the distance between them. Spain laughed as he welcomed him in his arms.
Oh. Sweden was staring at him in one of the photos. Spain extended his arm to turn the frame around.
"Damn, what a man..." he muttered, not able to escape from those intense blue eyes.
"Thank you" France groaned, so, so close to him.
And the first decade of this millenium was still horrible to Spain. In 2008 the global economic crisis starting in the United States, joining the situation in the country due to the real state bubble, tax evasion, low productivity, etc. made the situation so bad the European Union had to rescue the country. Many people lost their job, the purchasing level dropped, many people were evicted from their houses—to this day we haven't fully recovered from it, and there are people who are still suffering the consequences. This caused the 15-M massive protest, a camping in Puerta del Sol in which people protested against the system and bipartidism, which favored the creation of new political parties like Podemos. Also, it was a time when charity brought the best out of people.
The last decade was a bit more generous, however. In 2010 winning the World Cup in Africa made the country vibrate and it was one of the few things which cheered us up and joined us during those dark times. It is true that during these years the whole world suffered frequent terrorist attacks, and Barcelona was also a target, when a van ran over people in Las Ramblas, killing 13 people, and in the nearby city of Cambrils one woman was stabbed to death. The homages were a bit eclipsed by the complicated situation due to Catalan independence movement growing strong this year, with a one-sided declaration of independence. Since the Spanish constitution explicitly forbids regions from becoming independent, the Catalan government was treated as traitors. Some of its members fled to several places of Europe; Belgium becoming the place former president Carles Puigdemont chose to spread his message to Europe. Those who stayed are now in prison for sedition. Just a few months ago there were very violent riots in Barcelona due to the sentence.
But there is more to celebrate these last years: in 2018 the terrorist band E.T.A. announced its dissolution, something France and Spain celebrated together.
It is referenced that Juan Carlos I abdicated in 2016, maybe forced by the scandals which had been giving the crown a bad name, and a very popular Spanish TV series, The Ministry of Time, which is about time travels, concerning a secret ministry which makes sure that the history of our country does not suffer any alterations.
Also, I had into account bunoro's design in DeviantArt for United Arab Emirates.
