1937

There was the sound of a knock at the door as Spain sat at dinner with Mexico, and it surprised him. As far as he knew, no one was going to pay him a visit in the middle of his Civil war. Everyone he had reached out to had paid him no mind, or had chosen to insert their own interests in his war.

He did not expect any of them to come to see him, since it seemed that none of his European neighbors wanted to give him any aid for any unselfish reason. It seemed incredibly unfair to him that they would all turn their back on him in this moment. They spoke about promoting peace, and then ignored him.

Mexico's presence was the most soothing part of the situation. Spain felt like there was no way that Mexico would have come back to him if there wasn't some affectionate feelings between them.

He found himself thinking about each lingering touch. He knew there was something sentimental below the surface, even if Mexico was insisting that he was just at his house to provide aid to suffering civilians.

Though Mexico would not say that he felt affection, Spain felt like he could see it in the meal in front of him. Mexico had taken the time to cook for him, and he could tell that it was made with care. He felt a slight annoyance at whoever was knocking at the door. There was no one in Europe that would visit him to provide aid, so he felt like this must be some attempt to interrupt the only solace he was allowed at the moment.

Mexico looked across the table at him and asked, "Are you expecting someone?"

He must have already known the answer. He had been there long enough to know that no one came to visit, except for Portugal, and he would have sent warning beforehand.

Spain shook his head slowly. He felt the muscles in his back twinge slightly at the movement. It was an unwelcome reminder of the physical toll that the war was taking on his body. He was distinctly aware of how reliant he was on Mexico. He said shortly, "No, I'm not."

The other raised an eyebrow and said, "Well, that's surprising. I'll get the door."

He stood up, and left to open the door. As he did, Spain took the opportunity to look at his body. He was so incredibly handsome, even more so now that he was so muscular. His butt looked particularly good, and Spain's mind slipped to all the times he had been free to touch Mexico - then New Spain - as much as he pleased.

He remembered all those spots that had made the boy squirm and moan. If he had his strength and the opportunity, he would take Mexico to bed again. But, he knew his own weakness would not allow it. He told himself that he could wait for a few weeks, when he would be stronger.

The sound of the door broke through his thoughts of bygone days when he could have what he wanted. He listened intently to try to figure out who was at the door.

Mexico spoke first, "Oh, it's you!"

He sounded pleasantly surprised by whoever it was. Perhaps it was Portugal, and he had just forgotten to give warning. Mexico always seemed quite happy to see Portugal, and Spain had figured out the reason. He knew his brother had aided Mexico's independence, and it seemed to have formed a bond between them.

But, then a voice answered, "It's been too long since we saw each other. Can I come in?"

That was not Portugal's voice. It wasn't a voice he knew either. It was heavily accented Spanish, but he couldn't place the accent.

He wanted to yell from where he was sitting, and tell whoever it was to go away. But, before he could say anything, Mexico made the invitation, "Of course. Come in."

Spain sighed to himself, frustrated that this stranger was about to rob him of a perfectly good night with Mexico.

Then Mexico appeared again, followed by a man with flaming red curls, and a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He was wearing a jacket with a green, white, and orange ribbon pinned in his lapel.

It took Spain a moment to realize that he did know who this was, though he had not seen him in a very long time. Mexico spoke, "Tony, I assume you know Ireland."

The redhead helped himself to a place at the table, with an audacity that Spain did not like. But, he replied anyway, "Yes, I know him." Ireland chuckled and said, "I should hope so. You funded more than one of my risings."

Spain remembered that he had supported Ireland several times against England. His reason had always been to weaken his greatest enemy. He had never really had many conversations with the man. He had always been a means to an end, an enemy to exploit within England's own family.

Spain tried to be pleasant when he said, "I'm always willing to support those who keep the true faith."

He saw Mexico raise an eyebrow at the canned response, but it did not seem like Ireland minded much. Mexico instead turned to the newcomer and said, "Have you eaten yet? Would you like some dinner?"

Spain thought he sounded a bit too anxious to extend hospitality. Ireland replied, "I got off of the ship and came straight here. I haven't eaten since this morning." Mexico said immediately, "Then you must eat with us. I insist. I will get you a plate."

He then vanished to the other room for a moment. Spain watched him leave with mounting confusion. He knew that Mexico was capable of hospitality and caring, but he seemed far too keen to take care of Ireland.

The other man in the room, for his part, was just looking at Spain. Then he opened his mouth and said, "You look like shit, if I may say so." Spain tried not to glare back as he replied, "Civil wars are painful, and this one is tearing me up."

Ireland responded with a good-natured smile and said, "Then it is fortunate that you aren't alone."

Before Spain had to try to muster a response, Mexico returned with another plate in his hand. He served a generous helping of food to the Irishman. Ireland replied with a smile, "How kind of you."

He got a matching smile in return, a smile that Spain had not seen on Mexico's face for a while. Spain watched with a growing sense of annoyance. He didn't like these looks at all

Mexico asked, "Do you want wine? There is already an open bottle." The redhead gave him a smile and said, "Have you ever known me to say no to alcohol?"

Mexico chuckled and poured him a glass. Spain made a note of the familiarity in the answer. They knew each other. He would guess that they knew each other quite well from Mexico's apparently friendly demeanor.

Mexico's eyes did seem to linger for a moment too long on Ireland's face before he returned to his seat.

Spain felt himself getting angry at the intruder. He hadn't asked for there to be someone else present to draw more of Mexico's attention. The food even felt less special now that he had to share.

Mexico made the feeling worse by immediately turning to Ireland and saying, "So, what are you doing here, Aedan? This is a pleasant surprise." He didn't look at all unhappy about Ireland's presence. Spain added, "I would like to know that as well."

He heard his own bitterness in the cutting tone of the comment. But, Ireland seemed to ignore it as he answered, "Officially I am not supposed to be here. My government does not want the involvement, and I'm supposed to be playing nice with my brother for a while."

He took a moment to pause and take a drink of wine. The answer didn't seem to make sense to Spain. That was a reason for neutrality.

But, he continued, "But, I wanted to offer help informally if I can. I can't resist the cause of freedom and right."

Mexico was smiling at him as he said it, and then he responded, "More help is certainly welcome."

Ireland turned his eyes to Mexico and said, "I heard from Arthur that Phillip told him that you were here. Not the news I was expecting, as you can imagine." Mexico scoffed, "Can no one on this continent keep a secret?" Ireland replied, "I'm afraid not."

Spain felt like he only tangentially a part of the conversation, even though it was happening at his own table. He took a drink of his own wine, which the interloper was also partaking in.

Apparently oblivious to Spain's prickly demeanor, Mexico said, "So, did you come to see me?" The corner of his mouth twitched up like he enjoyed the idea.

Ireland gave him a knowing smirk and said, "Aye, I had to check to see if that damned bleeding heart of yours had gotten you into trouble."

Spain immediately resented the idea that anything about helping him might get Mexico in trouble. It was a good deed done out of love. It was not hard to understand. Mexico replied, "I can't resist doing the right thing either."

Ireland looked at him tenderly and said, "I know you can't."

Spain cleared his throat pointedly to remind them of his presence. Mexico turned with his usual grace and said, "After all, Tony is glad to have me here. Aren't you?"

The dinner continued in much the same fashion. Spain was sure that he was not imagining the looks between Mexico and Ireland.

If he was an empire, this would have been easy to deal with. He would have dragged Mexico to a private room and remind him who he belonged to. But those days were gone and he could not do anything.

He hated the way that Mexico laughed whenever Ireland made a joke. They weren't even amusing enough to warrant that reaction. It was grating on Spain's nerves.

As they neared the bottom of the bottle of wine, Spain began to feel tired and weak. He hated the fatigue that this civil war had brought him.

He yawned, and the sound was enough for Mexico to glance over at him. Spain immediately wished that he had done something to draw his attention earlier.

He said, genuinely concerned, "Are you tired, Tony?" He checked his watch and added, "It is getting late. You should sleep." Spain nodded, and said, "Help me to bed, Ale."

He extended his hand like it was not already clear what he waned. Mexico poured the rest of the wine into Ireland's glass, and said, "I'll be right back."

Then he took Spain's hand and pulled him gently to his feet. Spain leaned against him heavily, only slightly exaggerating how hard he had to work to stay upright. He enjoyed the way that Mexico slipped an arm around his waist to support him.

It soothed his sense of frustration at how inattentive the man had been to him. Spain liked being able to touch him. It reminded him that Mexico was still his in a way.

Mexico took him to the nearest bedroom, which he had been using for the convenience, and helped him gently into bed. Mexico said, "Call for me If you need me."

Spain enjoyed hearing it. His former colony was willing to be there for him, as long as he was in need of aid. He drifted off thinking about how nice it would be when their uninvited guest left and it was just him and Mexico again.

Spain stirred uncomfortably in bed. He could fall asleep comfortably in one position, but when he moved, his muscles all hurt again. He let out a pained groan and opened his eyes.

It would take some effort to roll himself back into a comfortable position, and he didn't want to do it just yet. As he laid in bed, he could swear that he could hear music.

It was strange; he wouldn't expect anyone to be playing music at this hour. It was curious, and he tried to think of whether there was even an instrument in the house.

After a moment, he remembered.

Mexico's old guitar was still in his room, and the music did sound like someone playing a guitar and singing. He could not make out the words, but he heard the voice. But, he had not seen Mexico touch a guitar in a very long time.

Curious, he decided to get up and find the music. It took effort to get himself out of bed, and to stand. But, he managed it.

It seemed that the music was coming from the veranda outside of his window. He made it to the widow, and pushed the curtain aside.

He hoped to catch a glimpse of Mexico playing when he thought no one was listening. But, what he saw was that Ireland had the guitar in his lap, and seemed to be finishing a song.

The man said after he finished, "That's my new song for my brother. What do you think?"

Spain could hear them surprisingly well through the window, but he opened the window slightly so he could hear even better. Mexico replied, "I like it. It's cutting." Then, Ireland smiled and put the guitar aside, "I don't think Artie will find it as funny as you do." Mexico replied, "Do empires ever have a sense of humor?"

Spain felt distinctly like he was being talked about, and it made him bristle. Ireland patted his empty lap like an invitation. He added, "I already know you want to. You are allowed as long as you don't fall asleep."

For a second, Spain had absolutely no idea what he could be offering, and his mind started conjuring possibilities that made his blood boil. But, the question was answered when Mexico laid down with his head in Ireland's lap.

The Irishman immediately started to stroke Mexico's hair. Mexico said, with a smirk, "It's a compliment if I do. I sleep on all of my friends." Ireland responded with a laugh, "I know, but I won't get my arm back until morning if you do. I remember how you are."

Spain did not like the implication that they had slept together before at all. It put Mexico's sudden affability in a new light.

Ireland paused for a minute and looked at Mexico's face with an expression of tenderness that Spain could easily see, even with the low light. Then, Ireland asked more seriously, "Are you tired from taking care of him?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Mexico said, "I am. But I don't sleep much anyway. I would rather not have the nightmares."

Ireland twined his fingers in Mexico's dark hair lovingly. He then said, "Do you still have nightmares about Alfred? About that war?"

Mexico seemed to nod, though it was hard to see from Spain's vantage point. But he confirmed it when he said, "They're rare, but I do." Ireland replied, "I wish I could have done more. I wish my men had been enough."

His voice sounded strained by emotion. Mexico closed his eyes and said, "Are you worried about me?"

Ireland responded, "I have been worried about you since 1911. You were gone, and not even Philip could tell me if you were alive and well. Where did you go?"

There was a very long silence. Spain held his breath. He had the same question, but had not dared push his luck by asking. He had been worried too when he heard that Mexico had disappeared into a civil war. If Ireland could get the answer that he could not, then he would take it as a very damning sign of the difference in their relationships.

Mexico finally said, "I was running from my demons and trying to find a better republic along the way."

It was a cryptic answer, but Spain expected nothing else. He knew that Mexico had not told anyone about the years he had been gone.

Ireland replied with seriousness, "And did you outrun them? You're here helping a man who hurt you."

Spain felt an angry flush in his cheeks. Was that all someone saw from the outside? Could they not see that Mexico felt affection for him? He hoped that Mexico would say exactly that when he responded.

But, Mexico said, "I think I did. I'm not forgiving Antonio by being here. I'm just helping civilians who are stuck in this war. You would not believe the horrors I saw during the Revolution. I don't believe God helps the helpless, so someone must."

It was a strangely noble sentiment, and not at all what Spain expected to hear. Ireland replied, "I know the pain of war too. But please do not hurt yourself to be a saint. You're one of the best men I have ever known already." Mexico said in response, "I promise I won't."

There was another long pause and then Ireland said, "I know you do not see eye to eye with the church, but would you go to mass with me in the morning?"

Spain knew the answer to that one. He had asked once already, and Mexico had said bluntly that he would not set foot in a Spanish church again. The institution sickened him, so he had said.

He waited for the inevitable response. Mexico said, "For you, I can do it. Just don't ask me to go to confession. I have nothing I will be sorry to the church for."

Spain felt genuine anger at that. Why would Mexico do that for another man but not him?

Ireland replied, "That's a deal." Mexico added, "You know, I still have the rosary you gave me. The one with the medallion of Saint Jude." Ireland nodded and said, "Patron saint of lost causes. May he bless me one day with Independence."

Spain was certain that this was the most he had ever heard Mexico speak about faith. The man usually treated his faith as a very private matter. He felt a twinge of jealousy at the idea that Mexico would not share any of it with him.

Mexico said, suddenly, "I should check on Antonio one more time before I fall asleep."

Spain realized that if he was found by the window, Mexico would know that he was listening.

He pulled the window closed quickly, and closed the curtain. Then he made his way back into bed, and pulled the blankets over himself only a minute before Mexico opened the door.

Spain feigned waking up, and groaned like he was in pain. He was sure that would bring Mexico to his bedside.

Mexico said, "Tony, do you need anything?"

Too bitter to mask his own feelings, Spain said, "Now you have time for me. Is there somewhere else you'd rather be?"

Mexico looked at him for a moment, and then said, "What do you mean by that?" Spain bit his lower lip, trying to decide what to say. Then it seemed to dawn on Mexico and he said, "You're jealous of Aedan. It's been a while since I had to deal with you being jealous."

Spain let his feelings show on his face as he replied, "You like him. It's obvious."

He didn't get the response he wanted, since Mexico immediately laughed, "You caught me. I have a friend. How dare I?"

Spain clenched his jaw firmly and said, "You want to be more than friends."

He wanted to see Mexico react with some shame, like he would have when he was a colony. But, instead Mexico sat on the edge of the bed and fixed his eyes on him.

Then, speaking very clearly, he said, "Maybe I do. But I don't see how that's any concern of yours, Tony."

Spain swallowed back his retort. He couldn't admit that he was already thinking about Mexico as his again.

Mexico continued, "What do you think this is? Do you think that I am here because I want you back?"

Spain refused to confirm that it was true. But he had a feeling that he betrayed the thought on his face, because Mexico said, "I'm not. I'm here because I pity you and your people. That is all."

Spain finally managed to speak, "I don't believe that is all this is. You say that, but I don't believe it."

Mexico shook his head and said, "Of course you do. Let me be perfectly clear: I like men. I like a lot of different men. But it has not been your business which men I like since 1810. I'm not going to ignore someone who has been good to me because you have some delusion that I am going to take you back."

Spain wanted to say something, but he knew Mexico would not listen. He never wanted to hear anything about Spain's love for him. Instead, Spain bit his lip and sank into the pillows.

Mexico said pointedly, "Good night. I will be in the other room with Aedan if you need anything."