Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1a: Apparently, I've hurt, or I could have hurt, certain readers, a few chapters ago. I made Lovino say that he is a man and that he therefore can't reproduce, and somebody told me that I could (have) hurt people with that. Transgender people, I mean.
If that's the case, I'm sorry. I didn't know I was unintentionally hurting people while writing. I apologize.

A/n1b: I understand that people rather not want me to write things that make them feel uncomfortable. Of course I understand, and of course you're free to give me feedback whenever you feel like you should. I'm a very open person, and you can talk to me about whatever topic that comes back in this fic that made you feel uneasy. Go on, I won't get mad! ^^
However, I hope you all keep in mind that this is just a story. Just a fictional story, with characters that aren't even mine (well, with a few exceptions). Please remember that my words aren't written to attack, hurt or insult anybody, they're just… there, hoping to be read, understood and liked. Most stories are, really. Read them – don't be afraid of them. You are scarier to them than the other way around!
Also, I never intend(ed) to hurt anybody with my stories. Ever. Since I'm a nice person. With a misunderstood love for lovely ~*cliffhangers*~.
That's all I wanted to say.

A/n2: I have read "Don Quixote" – in Dutch, even! There was this special, ultra-huge-doorstopper edition at the library at my place last year, and so, since I'm weird and love to brag about my love for books, I took it with me and always read it when there were other people around me, just to prove how much of a badass reader I am. Well, and because I really wanted to read it, of course, since this book has been regarded as the world's first modern novel (I mean, it's from 1605. 1605! Wow!).
I liked it, it was a very witty, cleverly written book, but I have to be honest – I lost my interest when I reached chapter 22. Every chapter seemed to be an adventure on its own, so I kind of failed to see the plot. I do regret bringing it back now, though. I even went back to the library last Tuesday to give it another shot, because now that Lovi's going to tell about the brave Don Quixote… yep, it has piqued my interest once again, and I should do some research!

A/n3: To the many anonymous reviewers that have graced me with wonderfully kind, but sadly unreplyable (look look, I made up a word) reviews: thank you very much, I'm glad my story/stories amuse you as well, and I'm happy you're happy to read/have read my fic(s).^^ Thanks so much!

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 46:

Your children will smash your understanding, knowledge and reality.
Tibor Kalman
(Hungarian-born American graphic designer)

So!

The kids seemed to really like the fact I was going to tell a story about an old, foolish "knight" that picked fights with lots of ignorant people (I could understand why, it did sound pretty funny and cool), and even Antonio appeared more interested in my not-yet told story than usual.

The reason? Well, Antonio had always claimed to have been a very good friend of Mr. Cervantes – the in Spain extremely famous author of Don Quixote – in his younger years. It was cute to see just how very pleased he was to hear I was going to re-tell his friend's epic novel.

I-I should really do my best on this one, then!

'La Mancha was a very special region,' I suddenly started, just when we all got on the road, 'a huge, plain region, located south of Madrid. It was a very dry area, but the ground was very fertile, and so, perfect for farming. Things like olives, wine grapes and wheat were harvested each and every year and although the region wasn't exactly boring, it still seemed like time stood still in this dusty place.

That was, until he, the wacky man who was born there,decided to bring fame and weirdness to La Mancha!'

'Who's he?' Luisa asked.

'A strange old man that liked to read crap and brainwashed his mind with it. It was crap called… chivalry novels.'

'Dan dan daaaaaaaaaan,' Antonio said, giggling when I shot him an annoyed glare.

'Cool!' Alejo shouted excitedly. 'Brainwashing – awesome!'

'I dun't get it,' Matteo complained.

I frowned at him – and barely avoided getting hit by a car. The cycling road we followed was pretty thin, after all.

'Okay, let me explain. You know those stupid television shows, soaps and series that make no sense? Like there's one guy killing another guy, and then in the next episode, the guy's wandering around again and has apparently made his nephew pregnant or disturbing bullshit like that?'

'Sounds like a standard soap, yes,' Antonio nodded.

'Well, back then, reading chivalry novels was just as stupid and embarrassing as watching those kind of shows,' I explained. 'Also, they were VERY dangerous for one's sanity.'

Luisa was amazed. 'So the old man read himself crazy?'

'Well, the man, who was a man of some sort of nobility – meaning that he actually was a pretty important person – had apparently been very bored with being almost-older-than-middle-aged and all, and therefore, he had decided to sit in his room and read shitty books about how fucking wonderful it was to be a heroic knight. He read one chivalry book. He read two chivalry books. He read three chivalry books. He fucking read entire goddamn libraries of chivalry books – and then, obsessed with the idea of being a fearsome but righteous knight, he turned batshit insane and decided he was one as well.

"WELL!" he roared in all his caps-locked glory, tossing the last book he had read out of the window and effectively killing a sparrow before standing on his lazy chair. "It looks like I am out of crappy books to read. Oh, woo is me! What am I to do now?"

His housekeeper and niece heard all the ruckus and came to check on the old man. Especially his niece, a kind, but easily-frightened, slightly paranoid girl that had pleaded her uncle to stop reading such poisonous books of shit, feared the worst.

"Uncle! Uncle, what are you doing! Don't swing that completely harmless invisible sword around so recklessly – you might hurt yourself and get send to the medieval hospital and then they'll discover a scary disease in your stomach and then you'll DIE!"

"Ha – oof – HA!" the uncle laughed as he fell off his chair and bumped his boney knees against a very stupidly placed cabin. "Fear not, my lovely niece, for I am utterly and completely fine as a medieval fiddle! Be gone now, for I am going to do some knightly deeds – all for my charming and most enchanting bride-to-be, Dulcinea del Toboso!"

"You mean Aldonza Lorenzo, that sturdy farm girl that lives next door?" the housekeeper asked. "Man, I knew you had the hots for her."

"Gasp! Do not speak so nonchalantly nor lightly about her, for Dulcinea is the most beautiful of women, with golden hairs, rainbow eyebrows, coral lips, pearly teeth, ivory skin, marble bosom, wooly, fluffy sheep beasts and what not – OH! THE WORDS! THEY ARE JUST NO GOOD! I should PUNISH myself for not being able to name all of my fair princess' obvious selling points! I DO THEM NO JUSTICE"

And the old man threw himself off the stairs. Which was very painful, for his Chivalry Crap Reading Room has been upstairs, in a very high and steep tower.'

The kids liked the story already – well, they always enjoyed stories in which people got physically hurt one way or the other – and grinned, all leaning to one side of the box. I couldn't really tell if Antonio liked the story that much yet, until I decided to stop throwing sneaky glances his way and just outright looked at him.

Antonio was sweating, I noticed, and he was doing his best to keep the freight bicycle from tilting over. 'Whooooo-! H-hey, watch it, kiddo's! We might fall over if you all lean to one side like that! Don't rock the box!'

I blinked. Rock the box – don't rock the box, baby – rock the box, don't tilt the box…

And then I said 'ugh' and sighed, because I had a song stuck in my head now. Yay.

'Nice beginning, Lovi,' Antonio then all of a sudden said, which made me look up instantly. Antonio looked at me – not too long, he had to keep his eyes on the road – and flashed a smile. 'I like it.'

'You do?' I stammered. Now I know what you think – why the hell are you stammering, you never care much about what Antonio has to say concerning your epic storytelling-skills – but… well, this was a story that was actually really dear to Antonio.

I wanted him to like it. I really, really wanted him to like it.

'I like it,' Antonio repeated. 'I do wonder what you're going to do about the ending of Don Quixote… but I like it.'

I felt like somebody just gave me a harsh push.

Shit – the old coot dies. That's right. Don Quixote, the main character, eventually perishes from despair (in the second book, or so Antonio once told me). Not exactly a nice ending to a bedtime story: 'and then the old man felt so horrible and bad about himself and the world, that he died. The end! Sweet dreams, my lovely children!~'

Crap.

How was I going to fix this? Damn, I should have thought this through a bit more…

'Hey hey, papa, hey hey, papa,' Alejo all of a sudden started chanting, which sounded… awfully familiar to me for some reason, I mean, for a moment I even feared he was going to ask me for wine or something, 'what happened then? Huh? Huuuuuh?'

'Oh – right, what happened then,' I quickly recollected myself, putting a teasing smile on my face. 'Well, what do you think that happened after the old man fell off the stairs?'

'Hmm, I think he bumped his tiny toe,' Luisa mused.

'He bwoke all his bwones!' Matteo blabbered.

'HE DIED,' Alejo – of course Alejo – viciously hollered.

'Yes,' I said while pointing to Luisa, 'almost,' I continued, my finger now pointing at Matteo, 'and no, GOD no,' I finished, frowning and pointing at Alejo.

Antonio nodded. 'Yeah, it would be a pretty short story if the man died this early in the story already.'

I agreed. 'That would be horrible, yes, because he has a lot of adventures to go on to. So when he had fallen down the stairs and had woken up a few hours after being passed out, he jumped up, out of his cozy bed, and started looking for knight clothes.'

'NIGHT CLOOSE,' Matteo parroted. 'Do ya mean he put on his PJ's? Haha! Funney grandpa!'

'No no,' I shook my head, 'I mean he went to look for a suit of armour and a helmet to wear! Because all true knight wear those kind of clothes, right? It makes them look fucking awesome and sturdy and shit.'

'But what's his name? I wanna know his name,' Luisa huffed, not even flinching when Antonio shrieked and managed to avoid hobbling over a big rock.

I smiled and gave a very douchey driver that was honking his horn to us a firm middle finger (which all three the kids instantly copied, naturally).

'His real name's a secret for now – what are you honking for, you piece of sh – but the old man gave himself a new name, a name that was way cooler than his dull original name. He named himself… Don Quixote.'

'Ohhhhhhh,' Matteo said, knowing that this was his cue.

'He laughed and put on some old, dusty suit of armor he had still lying around somewhere, and he placed a thin, flimsy helmet on top of his head. Then Don Quixote felt like he could take on the world and rid it of all its faults, and so, he ran down the stairs, off to the stables to fetch his noble steed.

"Come! Come forthwith, Rocinante, my powerful SUPER-HORSE, and let us take off and fight crime!"

"Whinny," Rocinante whinnied laboriously – for he actually was a very old horse.

"Sir!" the housekeeper panted as she followed the brave knight. "Sir, what are you planning to do with that skinny old horse? I thought you said I should make soup out of him."

"SHOCK and TERROR!" Don Quixote gasped, covering Rocinante's ears. "Foolish simpleton! I never said such a thing! How could I – I need Rocinante! He will accompany me on my quest to do heroic deeds for the devastatingly beautiful Dulcinea! Oh, my Queen! My heart's tender dictator! My—"

"Um – excuse me, Sir?"

"What?"

"Then what should I put in the soup?"

"Do I look like I care, woman?!"

"Sir, I really…"

"I AM TOO IMPORTANT TO THINK ABOUT SUCH TRIVAL MATTERS! Now! I should leave and do all the things the fictional people in my chivalry books have done, only a lot more foolishly and therefore more awesomely! Medieval style!"

"But Sir…"

"Can I get an OH YEAH?"

"…um… oh yeah?"

"Put more feeling in it, you oaf!"

"Oh yeah!"

"That's more like it! Thank you, my dear friend. I shall not forget your support. Farewell, for I MUST BE OFF!"

And with that, Don Quixote and Rocinante awkwardly waddled off the knight's property, following the path that would lead them to the glorious glory of glory, never having answered the poor housekeeper's burning question (who by the way now decided to just chuck some turnips in the soup instead). But Rocinante hadn't even taken five old, horsey steps yet, or the knight was challenged with his first problem!'

'Wha's that?' Matteo asked, while Antonio couldn't stop laughing and/or flailing the bicycle.

'Well – he needed to be knighted,' I explained. 'A knight can only be a knight if he's… knighted.'

'Wha's that?' Matteo asked again.

'Oh, oh!' Luisa yelped, raising a hand. 'I know! He needs to get hit by a sword!'

Alejo gasped. 'He has to get sliced first before he can be a knight? AWESOME!'

'No no.' Antonio chuckled. 'When a person is knighted, he gets a light pat on both of his shoulders with a sword, wielded by an important person – like a King, or a Lord. And with that, the person is a full-fledged knight and can go off to do good deeds for whoever he wants to do good deeds for.'

'So Don Quic… Quicho… Quixotte went to see some King or Lard?' Luisa wanted to know.

'Lord. Yes,' I said. 'And no.'

'Huh?'

'Don't forget that Don Quixote was a little bit… strange. Reading so many crappy books had poisoned his mind, remember? He saw things differently now, so when he thought he was approaching a mighty castle where important nobility-people lived, he actually was just approaching a simple inn – that's a place where you can stay over for the night and have some drinks and food.'

'A hotel thingie?' Alejo wondered.

I nodded. 'Sure, why not. Something like that, yes. Anyway, so there the castle that wasn't a castle at all was, and Don Quixote was thrilled. The time was near! He could almost go do good deeds, as his lonely heart so much longed for!

When the worried and slightly scared innkeeper and two giggly, skanky girls – that seemed to be two beautiful ladies in Don Quixote's eyes – watched him approach, they didn't know what to say or do. But that was okay, for Don Quixote knew exactly what to do.

"Greetings, fair Lord of this Slightly Odd, Inn Representing Castle – my name is Don Quixote of La Mancha, and I have arrived in the hopes of becoming a person that's worthy to be called knight, fighting for my Great Dulcinea the Greatest and Very Best-est."

"Uhh, yeah, hi," the innkeeper slowly said. "So… how can I be of any service to you?"

"Good man! The only thing I ask of you is to humbly knight me tomorrow morning – after I have bravely guarded over my armor the entire night, to prove to you I am worthy of this title!"

"So… you're going to guard that… that weird stuff that your horse's carrying. The whole night long."

"Indeed!"

"Why."

"Because it has to be done," Don Quixote said as he slapped a hand on his chest. "So please! Let me!"

The innkeeper, who had enough troubles in his life already that certainly couldn't use an insane old knight and actually wouldn't mind a bit of weird entertainment, finally decided to play along.

"Alright, brave Sir Knight, it's okay. You go guard your silly armor. However, I don't have a chapel in which knights normally… um, hold vigil over their armor. I do have a stable, though."

"That's right, you can hold vigil over your armor in the stable, brave Sir Knight," one of the skanky ladies cackled. "And then the innkeeper… I mean, our Lord, will be more than happy to knight you! Right?~"

"Whatever." The innkeeper made a tiresome gesture with his hand. "Just put his horse, or what's left of it, in the stable and lead that old coot to the inn. We should at least make sure he eats something so I won't have to explain the medieval cops what that dead body's doing there in the stable tomorrow morning."

The ingenious Don Quixote was very pleased with the kind way he was treated by the innkeepers and the ladies, so he could help himself – he just had to recite a couple of incredibly long, cheesy, corny and incomprehensible poems he had remembered from his crappy novels.

I could tell you these poems, I could, but they are way too long and stupid – so I won't. You can thank me later.

Anyway, as Don Quixote spoke, the innkeeper and the girls just stared at him in awe, feeling very special because they had gotten the opportunity to meet a madman, a real, realistic madman, and did their best to stay awake during Don Quixote's exhaustingly boring verses.

"Now that I have praised this Castle, the Lord who lives within it and the Beautiful Maidens that dwell around the place" – the skanky girls snickered – "I should CONTINUE thinking of rhymes and poems to praise even MORE people, buildings and/or things around here!"

"What!" the innkeeper responded, shocked, for he didn't know he could stand yet another sermon-like verse.

"YES!" Don Quixote loudly exclaimed. "THAT WINDOW UP THERE ON THE VERY RIGHT! I HAVEN'T PRAISED THAT WINDOW UP ON THE VERY RIGHT THERE YET WITH MY KNIGHTLY POEMS OF LOVE AND HEROICNESS! The agony! I must stop lollygagging and start WORSHIPPING IT!"

"Oh god," one of the so-called maidens muttered, while the other face-palmed herself.

"No no," the innkeeper quickly intervened, "you have praised and blessed enough for today, you crazy old… I mean, brave Sir Knight. Please, I… I have a lot to do tomorrow – can we please all go to bed?"

Don Quixote hesitated – he really, really wanted to worship that one window – but in the end, he reluctantly agreed. After all, he needed to be knighted tomorrow morning and he shouldn't make the difficult night he was going to get any easier by chatting with these honest people for much longer. This was his first challenge, after all!

"Very well!" Don Quixote said, raising from his chair. "In that case, I'll retreat myself in your noble stable. I shall keep guard over my armor the entire night, like I promised to do, and therefore I shall sleepily see you all in the morning!"

The innkeeper was a bit worried about Rocinante and frowned. "Sir, about your horse—"

But Don Quixote didn't hear him. "Good night to all of you," he yelled one last time over his shoulder, and stepped into the dark outside world of the night.'

I paused and got off my bicycle for a sec – we were about to cross a very busy road, so I had to – and looked at the four faces next to me, to check if they were enjoying themselves.

'And? Like the story?'

'Yea.' Luisa chuckled. 'What a weirdo. He's pretty nice, but he's so weird!'

'Hm, I wish he'd start fighting already,' Alejo disappointedly said, poking Matteo's face with his finger. 'You said there would be fighting in it, Papa Lovi.'

'There will be,' I nodded. 'Just wait and see. And stop poking your brother, dammit, you'll give him a headache.'

'I wanna have a horsey too,' Matteo said, not bothered by his twin brother's annoying finger at all, 'then I can name him and put funney heads on his hat.'

…

'And don't we all want to do just that,' I said, rolling my eyes at Antonio, who laughed. He laughed a lot today, or so I had noticed. I liked that – I liked that very much. It was a good sign. Also, he looked murderously handsome whenever he laughed. But then again, he always did.

'Let's see…' Antonio then said, looking up to the traffic sign he was holding for support, '…according to this sign here, we're almost there. I'd say we'll have to cycle for at least another half hour before we'll reach it, so let's get off the bicycles and take a small break before we'll carry on. Is that okay? We could sit right there, next to that gas station – that's a nice park!'

I looked into the direction Antonio was pointing. "Nice" was a big word for that park – I mean, the neglected little park with the several barely used litter bins and dusty picnic tables was surrounded by HUGE TRUCKS, NOISY ones on top of that, and I felt like Antonio and I had to tie the kids to the benches or something like that to avoid that one of them was going to get flattened by one of them.

However, I saw that Antonio was pretty tired and the kids were longing to stretch their legs, so alright, we could sit down for a few minutes, eat some of the sandwiches I had made this morning and take a nice break.

…

I just hoped there wouldn't be all kinds of suspicious stuff lying around if you know what I mean.

\0o0/

Always thinking the worst of things may be pretty pessimistic, but as a result, the outcome of certain situations most of the time is a lot better than one could have suspected.

It's like the Law of Murphy, only backwards or something. Like, when you're absolutely sure things will go horribly wrong, they won't. It's almost anti-climatic, but in a good way – and it happens more often than you think.

This time as well, as the neglected little park turned out to be kid-proof and safe – yes, I may have inspected it on my hands and knees before I unleashed our kids, so what – and Antonio and I could get a moment of rest as we sat on a park bench and watched the kids play.

'Lovino,' Antonio said as he finished slurping his apple juice box, 'I like the way you're telling Don Quixote, but I can't stop wondering what you'll do about the rest of the book. And the ending, of course.'

I raised an eyebrow. 'Ohhhh? Think I might screw up?'

Antonio looked at me motionlessly, before he smiled. 'The story and actual plot of Don Quixote is divided in many smaller stories – you know that, don't you?'

'Yep – that's why I still have some time left to figure out what to do about Don Quixote's death. I mean, have you SEEN that book? You can kill fucking planets with it, for fuck's sake!' I pointed out.

'So you're telling them one adventure of Don Quixote at a time?'

'That's the best thing I could do, right?' I yawned and made the joints in my fingers pop, like knack knerrk and shit. 'That way, I may never have to tell them that the old geezer dies at the end.'

'They really seem to like it, though,' Antonio said, nodding to the kids. Luisa was "fighting" Alejo and the both of them wielded long, thin twigs as they kept on yelling terms like arghhh and yahhhhh and gramdgafsbdjfdhga. Meanwhile, Matteo sat on the ground and studied the ants, using his specs as a magnifying glass.

…

…

'…now why did you make me look at the kids,' I slowly said, 'because I don't know what the fuck they're playing, but it doesn't really have a Don Quixote-vibe to me.'

Antonio chuckled uncomfortably and shrugged. 'Oh well, I'm still sure they really like the story. Which is pretty amazing, since Sancho Panza hasn't even made an appearance yet, while he definitely was one of the funniest characters.'

'I just have a very good way with words,' I arrogantly smirked, dragging one of our bags on my lap, 'now enough chit-chatting. Go fetch the twerps – we need to eat a bit and then get a move on.'

Because all was good and well and everything, but I'd like to get in Madrid before lunchtime, dammit.

\0o0/

Everything went surprisingly well, I have to admit. The kids weren't acting up or stalling time by annoying/crying/shouting, so before I knew it, we had eaten, drunk and were back on the road. I think we probably had sat in that park for 30 minutes or so, which was a pretty cool accomplishment, if you ask me.

'It's just a sign that we're doing good,' Antonio told me as we continued our increasingly-getting-better-path. 'Teo, Allie and Lulu really seem to enjoy to spend time with us like this – and I can understand. When I was a kid, I didn't even know children could have a pleasant time with their family. This is all new to me.'

I faintly remembered some lonely days from my own sucky childhood and sighed. 'You can say that again.'

'But I like it.' Antonio managed to flash a honest, bright smile at me. 'Doing these things with my… with our kids… it's like I'm making up to my past self.'

I smiled back at him and nodded, agreeing with him from the bottom of my heart.

'Papa Lovi!' Luisa's enthusiastic voice rang, louder than the cars around us. 'Go on with the story!'

I grinned, and I did. I took the kids back into the medieval world of Don Quixote with me and told them about how Don Quixote caused a lot of trouble for the innkeeper and the skanky ladies: Don Quixote had comically fallen asleep while guarding his armor and had brutally woken up again some hours later, when they were trying to take care of Rocinante and the mules.

'The innkeeper and some muleteers had to move Don Quixote's armor from the trough to get to the water for the animals, you see? They thought the coast was clear when they noticed he had fallen asleep – in a very knightly position, of course. But keen Don Quixote wasn't pleased with that! He huffed and puffed and attacked the crap out of them!'

'Whoa,' Alejo gasped, very impressed. 'Did he kill them?'

'Naaaah,' I snickered, 'Don Quixote fought like a sissy and didn't dare to leave his armor, so he couldn't really hit anybody. Besides, the innkeeper had warned the muleteers that even if Don Quixote could kill them, he wouldn't go to jail anyway, since he was a loony. The muleteers stopped throwing rocks at the shouting and cursing knight, said "fuck this freaky shit" and left.

"Victory is mine," Don Quixote wheezed, and wanted to take in his original position again – but the innkeeper had enough of it and wanted to knight the madman already, before the poor fool would ruin his entire stable. So he called for the skanky girls and had some things arranged, before he could humbly and hastily knight the fair Sir Knight.

"There you go," the innkeeper said as he almost cut off Don Quixote's head in his hurry to get this over with, "I hereby knight you, Sir Knight, and I hope you will do good deeds and leave good people the hell alone."

"Huzzah," Don Quixote emotionally said, tears sparkling in his old eyes, and promised the girls that came to bring his sword – all to speed up the leaving process – that he would fight in their names as well.

They hesitantly thanked Don Quixote and Don Quixote passionately praised the two of them and the innkeeper for a little while again, until nobody could understand what the fuck he was rambling on about was anymore, and then he left – ready to fight crime and punish the unpunished!'

'The end?' Matteo asked.

I shook my head. 'Don Quixote has had a lot of adventures – this was just his first! I'll tell you another adventure of this silly knight when we go back home. Okay?'

'Okaaaaaay,' the three of them brother- and sisterly answered, and Antonio suddenly grabbed my lower arm.

'Lovi!'

'Wow – watch it, you're making me lose my balance!' I instinctively nagged. 'What is it, dammit?'

'We've reached our destination!' Antonio's smile only seemed to expand as he made a grotesque arm-movement. 'The city of Madrid – thar she blows!'

I wanted to scoff at him and tell him that theoretically, we had already been in Madrid before we had even left the garden – but then I looked in front of me, saw the beginnings of the beautiful, bustling and bubbly city, taking form in the many colorful buildings, speedy cars, cramped-up busses and busy people residing there, and ohhhh. Ohhhhhh – so majestic.

I…

I just…

…

Madrid. Let me tell you something about Madrid.