Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: I felt like making Antonio do the narrating again, so this chapter, he's back in charge! ^^

A/n2: On the fourth of May, we have Remembrance of the Dead (Dodenherdenking) in the Netherlands. In other words, we think about all the people that have died during World War II, but we also think about other painful incidents that need to be remembered and thought about, like the many victims that were made during the time Indonesia was still a Dutch colony, or the soldiers that died in wars in Bosnia and Lebanon.
The King and a few other important persons take part in a national ceremony and lay flowers to remember the dead. Flags need to be hung half-staff and everybody is shushed: there will be two minutes of silence, out of respect for the dead, and so you won't be hearing anything between 06:00 PM and 06:02 PM. No radio broadcastings, no television, no public transportation, no word.
It's a very solemn and respectable moment.
And you know what?
My parents are celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary on the fourth of May.
'Yes,' my mom explained to me, 'I wanted to have an original wedding date! Well, you can't get any more original than getting married at Remembrance of the Dead!~'
'Also, it was on a Monday and therefore less expensive,' my dad helpfully added.
…
It's no wonder my brothers and I turned out the way we are now.

A/n3: The Eurovision Songfestival is going to happen in about a few more days! I'm already very excited for all the blatant gayness to be smeared all over my screen, not to mention all of the Hetalia-fanart. Whenever Spain gives Italy 12 points or the other way around, my inner moron—I mean, fangirl, just starts celebrating. I can't help it. I'm dumb. Durrrrrrr.
Also, Estonia – yes, the country – apparently liked the Dutch song for the Eurovision so much that it became a huge hit in that country for a few days! Oh my god, imagine that: Netherlands singing a song with a stoic shit-face and Estonia swooning all over him.
SUCH A DISTRUBING IMAGE. *flukes it out of twisted mind*
I don't really like the Dutch song, though. It's kind of boring. So we'll probably won't make it to the finals. Oh, well. At least we finally made it to the finals last year!

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 48:

Children are hard to understand, especially when careful training has accustomed them to obedience,
and experience has made them cautious in their conversations with their teachers.
Catherine the Great
(Russian tsarina)

'Mister Tour Guide, what is that building?'

'Mister Tour Guide, can we have a bathroom break – I really need to go.'

'Mister Tour Guide, where are we now?'

'Mister Tour Guide! A wasp stung me!'

'Mister Tour Guide, can we go visit that adorable chapel over there?'

'Mister Tour Guide, which way to the Plaza Major?'

'Mister Tour Guide, my thumb's starting to swell up… is that normal?'

'Mister Tour Guide – make a picture of us and this statue, please!~'

'Mister Tour Guide… I think I'm allergic to wasps…'

'I'm thirsty, mister Tour Guide! Are we going to sit down or what?'

Lovino groaned and rubbed his face with his hands, at the end of his wits as the big group of tourists kept asking him all kinds of questions about every single thing they saw. At one moment, a fat kid even came running along with a twig and demanded Lovino would tell him from what kind of tree it was.

It was a good thing the boy was from a different country, because Lovi snapped – and the Italian words he started to sputter and spout at the kid weren't very… um, nice. I didn't really know what they meant (although I did have a faint idea), but I knew Lovino wasn't exactly praising the boy when there was that scary vein popping up on the side of his forehead.

'You hear that, Heinrich? Now the nice Tour Guide is taking Spanish! What a nice Tour Guide, isn't he?' a friendly, short lady told the brat – who just snorted, already bored – and she gave Lovino five euro's.

'There,' she said, patting him on his shoulders as Lovi stared at the tip, completely speechless, 'you deserve it, dear!'

Lovino looked at the friendly lady, then at Heinrich – who had put the twig up his nose – and then he finally looked at me.

'Antonio, what the fuck is going on!'

I grinned stupidly and shrugged, which wasn't easy to do when you're carrying both of your twin sons. 'I don't know, Lovi – but humor them a little longer, will you? And rake in some solid cash while you're at it! Then we can have a huge dinner tonight!'

I was just joking around of course, but Lovino glared at me and made this threatening "I'm so going to kick your awful ass later" –face. Then another tourist – a teenage girl that had been drooling over him ever since he had opened his shirt a bit more – grabbed his hand and tagged him along to yet another monument.

As for me, the kids and America, we just… followed Lovino and the group.

…

Well, what else could I possibly do? There were twenty tourists fighting over Lovino's attention right now and I didn't want me or my children getting hurt just because I needed Lovino to spend some time with us.

I sighed and shot a nasty look in America's direction, who was currently trying to convince Luisa to hold his hand.

'Aw, come on – I won't hurt you, I just want to hold your hand, so you won't get lost! Your bad-mouthed daddy's busy and your extremely-annoyed-and-secretly-plotting-my-untimely-death other daddy's already carrying both of your brothers, so you should—'

'NO,' Luisa just nagged, grabbing the fabric of my pants and boring her little nails painfully hard into my flesh. 'You're WEIRD. Go away!'

America made a sad face and looked at me. 'Spain, your kid doesn't like me.'

'I can feel that,' I said, wincing.

'But that's strange. Most kids like me. Now why doesn't your kid like me? That's just wrong and unsettling!'

I was getting more than a little annoyed now.

'Oh, I don't know – maybe it's because you popped up out of nowhere and disturbed our nice little family trip, or maybe it's because you're loud and irritating, or maybe it's because you brought a caravan of tourists with you, or maybe it's because you needed to call Lovino a damn tour guide, causing all of your annoying "friends" to drag him off to all these stupid touristic sites and force him to tell them everything about it!'

'Or maybe, she's just shy,' America cheerfully suggested as he winked at a grumpy Luisa. 'Aww, that's okay, doll. The presence of America does that with people, you know?'

…

…

I… I could only grumble and keep myself from cursing – not now I was taking care of the kids. I should think positive. I mean, at least the tourists had stopped shouting praising words whenever America's name fell, so maybe things were going to get better now. Somehow.

After I had calmed myself down a bit, I tried to tell America that it was a pretty huge dick move – pardon my French – of him to make Lovi act like a tour guide. This was our family trip, after all! He should apologize!

'Sure, whatever you say, but can you blame me for calling him a tour guide?' America said as he slurped from a little fruit juice box he had swiped out of one of our backpacks. 'The guy's a walking Wiki! I'm sure he can even tell about the life and times of that little rock over there! Heck, I bet he can also make it sound interesting, too!'

'Lovino,' I started, gritting my teeth but trying to hide it behind a dazzling smile, 'didn't come here to tour-guide people around, America. He came here with me and our kids. We were going to tell and teach them about Spain and Madrid, so that they could perhaps use all that information later – when they're replacing us.'

America stopped slurping and gave me a puzzled look. 'Wait, so you're thinking the kids are going to replace us?'

I nodded and groaned softly – the boys were getting a bit heavy, especially when they wiggled around so much.

'We think we're going to become mortal and we'll eventually be replaced by our offspring. We won't be living on account of the leaders of our countries and goverments anymore – we'll have to make our own living – but that's okay, if we prepare ourselves properly. That's what we think. Lovino convinced me, though. Before he explained this theory to me, I didn't really know why the kids were here and everything. I didn't want to think about it too much, either, because I was scared the truth would depress me. Lovi's theory kind of saddened me as well, but Lovi made it sound like a good thing, a healthy thing, and so I've accepted that my sons and daughter are probably going to take our places in. If that's our fate, well, so let it be.'

America didn't react – he just gazed at me, like I was an object he tried to identify.

'What?' I asked, frowning. 'You think it's a stupid theory?'

He finally blinked and shook his head. 'No – I think it's a good theory. A kind, merciful theory.'

'…merciful?'

'Yes, merciful.' America drank the last bit out of the little carton box. 'There are many more theories going around about the kids' existence, you know? Agonizingly terrible ones. Some countries are starting to think we're going to be killed – then replaced. Others think the kids are a failed experiment and ponder about hiding them at a secret place, before they come to take their kid away from them. Some nations don't even dare to leave their Houses anymore, scared that there are people lurking around, looking for an opportunity to kidnap the kids. Man, you wouldn't believe what kind of crazy things I've seen and heard so far already.'

'I…' I felt weird and licked my lips. 'I had no idea… is it… is the ambiance in Europe that awful?'

'Yeah.'

'I had no idea.'

'Yeah – you just told me.'

'But why? How?'

'One word: the PPSS.' America sounded suspiciously serious now. 'this wacky, mysterious organization is slowly but surely starting to pollute everybody's sanity. They're keeping an eye on us, they know what we're doing, and guess what – they've always known.'

My heart started to pound in my chest like it had gone mad and I swallowed.

'How… how do you know?'

'Because I've been spying on them – you know how much I like to spy around, and yes, indeed, I never lose at hide and seek games, either. People have died trying to find my hiding spot.'

'…uhm.'

'But let's not wander off the topic here, Spain – the PPSS-organization always watches us. The reason why? It'll surprise you. They don't watch us for criminal or other bad purposes, but because they want to protect us.'

'Protect us?'

He nodded. 'PPSS – Personification Protection Security Services. That's what the (kind of cheesy) name stands for. It's a very old organization, consisting of humans that have always secretly watched over the personifications. For as long as personifications and humans have been around, they have been around, protecting us from out of the shadows, one way or another. They always kept their organization's existence a secret, but when something strange happened – the sudden appearance of the kids – they for some reason needed to make their presence in this world known to us. Even though they've never done that before. It's reason enough to worry, if you ask me.'

I smiled nervously. 'Wh-why are you telling this? To me, I mean? Why aren't you, I don't know, arranging a meeting for all the countries with kids?'

'Because they are watching us, Spain, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing, in this context.' He grinned and gave me a thumbs-up. 'But hey, it is a good thing they don't think my love for enthusiastic Europe-trotting tourists is very interesting. It gives me more freedom to do as I please. Hooray for being a sly, unpredictable prick!'

I was confused and wanted to ask more, but then I suddenly understood why America had come along with a group of tourists again, and why he was using them.

America was sneakily informing us about all that was going on in Europe, one or two countries at a time, and he did so by traveling along with tourists that were going to visit all European countries anyway. He didn't want to speed up unknown processes that could be going on right now, so he took his sweet time to warn the rest about what he had found out so far.

' "Something big is going on, and it's unavoidable. It is going to happen. We can't stop it, it's gone too far already." That's what Arthur said.' America kicked against a pebble. 'I think he's in it.'

'In what?'

'In some sort of conspiracy.'

'With… the PPSS, you mean?'

He shrugged. 'Yeah, that's what I think. He keeps shrinking like a little scared kitten whenever I mention the name and it doesn't matter what he's holding in his hands whenever I say the organization's name – he drops it right on the floor. It's actually kind of funny: last week, I constantly said "PPSS PPSS PPSS" when he was trying to wash his windows. Man, he was soaked by the time I stopped bugging him! And angry! Oh! I laughed my ass off when he started chasing me with a mop!'

'That doesn't prove anything,' I said. 'Most countries that know at least a bit about that PPSS thing, act just as allergic to the name.'

America didn't like my skeptical tone and smirked. 'Oh, then what about this: Arthur gets calls from the leader of the PPSS on a daily basis. He always talks very quickly and tries to buy more time from them for some sort of reason, but that's all I know. I don't know why he's trying to buy more time, or for what, but you bet he's not getting prettier because of it. The bags under his eyes are reaching his chin these days!'

I decided to ignore the bit about England's baggy eyes and repeated America's words – in my head. So England was scheming something, and he was working together with the PPSS? Well sure, thanks to his meddling we suddenly were blessed with kids, yes, I knew that, but… I never thought he and the PPSS were actually keeping close contact…

And there was another thing bugging me.

'By the way,' I therefore commented, as we now followed Lovino and the tourists into a nice-looking restaurant, 'I didn't know you and England were on speaking terms again. Hadn't the two of you broken up?'

'Oh yes, we had!' America nodded. 'But you know us – we can't seem to be apart from each other too long. Also, I don't think it's very good for little Johnny's development if his two parents, that actually love each other very much, keep denying what they really want to say to each other. So shortly after I had started my research, I told myself that I'd stay away from that adorable English moron for a little while… but then Johnny told me he missed him, and I admitted that I missed him as well, so we went to London and asked Arthur if we could stay in his House in London during my research. He didn't even have to think about it. Aww. He looked so endearing, all happy and blushy…'

'So England still denies all kinds of wants, doesn't he. Nagging that he doesn't want something that he actually wants more than anything, things like that…' I sighed and smiled as I looked at Lovi, who was now helping some elderly ladies to their seats. 'He's somewhat like Lovino was.'

'Was?'

'Lovino isn't as grumpy and difficult as he used to be. I think – no, I honestly believe, that he's happy right now.'

'I know.' America smiled as well. 'And I can't stand it.'

'Why not?'

'Why is your darling Lovino allowed to actually grow as a person, while Arthur doesn't seem to move on at all?' America still smiled, but for the first time, I felt as if I was looking right through that smile. It wasn't that same careless, everything-will-be-alright –smile I was used of him. It looked like one, but I don't know – I felt like he actually wanted to grind his molars together, fist his hands and harshly slam them into a brick wall.

'I'm a very optimistic person – hell, my entire country is optimistic. No matter what happens, we all believe things will be alright in the end anyway, just because we have faith in ourselves and in the things we can do to turn the tables. Because of that, I just don't get Arthur. Always musing about the past, always cranky, always avoiding having to answer questions that might reveal more of his personality… It's so damn annoying. Why can't he just trust me, for God's sake. He's my lover. He's my everything. Fuck.'

As he sat down and I put the kids on the seats around our table, I studied the burst façade of his face and couldn't help but chuckle.

'No offense, but you're just a brat, America.'

America frowned at me, but didn't protest.

'England has a lot more history than you have. Like me, he has seen and experienced downright horrifying things. Sure, you have had your share of awfulness as well – but not as much as England has.' I sat myself down as well. 'And I know you like to compare Lovi with England, but don't forget they're more different than you imagine. For example, England was just as dominant and possessive as I was – he probably was worse, even – while Lovino never wanted to conquer lands and rule over others. I'm not so sure about Feliciano, but Lovino… well, he was nothing more than a small, ignorant child in an evil world, wanting to be loved and hold. He was fully aware of that – but I, the grown-up, bossy Spanish Empire, didn't know that that was what I actually wanted the most as well. I thought I just wanted more colonies, more power – just like many countries, like France, the Netherlands and England. But I was wrong.'

'So…' America leaned over the table, '…so Arthur actually was longing for love and attention? Is that was you're trying to tell me?'

I gave him an apologetic look. 'I'm sorry, America, but I don't think it's that easy to explain. England is, was and always has been, way more powerful and influential that I am, was and have been. I've had my moment of gruesome power as well, I won't deny that, but when my empire fell, England's empire was stronger than ever. It took him many more years to come back to his senses. I believe he's still, well… trying to recover from all those years. And let me tell you – it's not easy. Not at all. So I don't know if it's love and attention he's looking for right now. I think he just wants some peace. In his head.'

I even tapped my head to stress my point – could have been a bit unnecessary, but I really wanted to make my point clear here. You shouldn't cover somebody who's seen such stomach-turning, blood-chilling disasters with your smothering love, not before you've given that person the change to mentally recover. It's difficult to love somebody when there's such a war going on in your brain.

'Once you have peace in your head, you can decently move on with your heart,' I tried to explain America, who was looking kind of sad right now. 'I have no doubt that England loves you – but he probably still has a lot of difficulties and problems in his head and life he needs to overcome first, before he can freely show you he cares so much about you.'

'But you moved on,' America pointed out.

'I just told you my downfall had started earlier than England's – so one could say I therefore had gotten more time to feel a lot better nowadays, yes. Partly thanks to Lovino, who's always been very supportive of me – first as something like a kid brother, later as a friend, then as my lover and ultimately as my husband – but mostly thanks to myself, really. I needed to overcome my demons by myself, nobody else could do that. No matter how many people respect and love you, it all means nothing if you don't respect and love yourself.'

'Whoa.' America looked at me in awe. 'You remind me of something.'

I blinked. 'You meant to say someone – right?'

'No – something. Now what was it… Oh, I got it!' America flashed me a big, excited, pearly-white smile. 'You're like one of those motivational posters I see online every once in a while! Cool – you know more of those? I always feel better after reading those, they're like invisible internet-hugs.'

…

…

I seriously didn't know what to say, especially not when he was gawking and grinning at me like that, so I decided to bluntly ignore America and his further nonsensical blabbering and ask the kids what they wanted to have for lunch.

/0o0\

A little while later, all the people sitting at our humble little table – me, Lovino, the kids and America – were in the middle of eating our lunch, when Lovino all of a sudden chucked his knife over his half-eaten feta-salad and grunted.

'This sucks, this place sucks, the people suck, the food sucks, this day sucks and the entire world sucks. It sucks massive balls.'

I chuckled uncomfortably. 'U-um, Lovi—'

'BALLS, Antonio!' Lovino repeated – loudly. 'Balls of SHIT!'

'Yes yes, it sucks poop balls,' I muttered, while Alejo, Luisa and Matteo started to giggle ('Papa said poop, ohhhhhhhhh…!'), '…but come on, sweetie, we'll have our nice and private weekend trip soon enough, since America promised to buzz the hell off after we've had our lunch.'

'Really?' Lovino asked.

'Yes, really?' America asked as well.

'REALLY, yes,' I said, glaring at America and brutally pulverizing the large sesame-bread I had in my hand at the same time.

'Squeezing bread 'till it breaks, huh?' America, who was eating soup, nodded wisely – wisely, I tell you. 'Wow, Spain! That's almost impressive. Really intense aura, though!'

'Papa, don't waste your food,' Luisa scolded me, before I could answer America, and she gave my thigh a light smack. 'There. That'll teach ya, bad boy.'

I looked at America and then at Luisa confusedly while Lovino snorted with laughter and almost had the ice tea coming out of his nose.

'Alright, you can stop thunderously eye-beaming me, Spain.' America sighed and dropped his spoon, in the middle of his bowl (kind of douchey, now the waitress or kitchen helpers had to fish it out of it later) 'And I'll admit it, I guess it's probably better when I leave after lunch. I still need to visit a lot of countries, after all. I've only had… um… England, the Netherlands, Belgium, Germany, Luxembourg, France and Spain so far.'

Lovino wiped his face clean and frowned at the blonde American. 'The hell, you're on another European trip? I thought you had done that already a few weeks ago! Besides, weren't you investigating something?'

'Vacation, investigation… potato, potatoe.' America handwaved Lovi's comment away. 'It's the same, really. But if you must ask, personally, I call it a crusade.'

'You call it a crusade,' Lovino repeated, shaking his already dangling head in disbelieve.

'A brave and very heroic crusade, yes.' America put a hand on his chest and breathed in dramatically. 'It is my very DUTY to visit all the cool European places, complain about my chocolate-fudge-covered homeland being so very far way from me, pollute famous capital cities with my fellow tourists and photograph the living daylights out of all the countries. Afterwards, I'll go leave critical reviews about Europe on the internet that make no sense whatsoever, just to annoy everybody living on the continent, as usual. And then my job's done and I can go watch Team America with huge hamburgers and enormous drinks. You know, American stuff!'

While an extremely bewildered Lovino got angry and started to throw a mild tantrum, I caught America winking at me, as if he was asking me a silent question.

…

Oh. Oh, okay.

Seemed like it was up to me to explain America's actual goal to Lovino later.

Alright then…

/0o0\

Like he had more or less promised, America and his strange posse left, right after lunch. He said to his gang that they had to carry on their trip without Lovino now, and nobody objected. So yeah, they paid the food they had eaten, tearfully said goodbye to Lovino and, well, left. Just like that.

I guess that's just America for you: when he suggest something is way more awesome than you think it is, you can't help yourself – you just have to start liking that one something America likes. It must be pretty cool to have a quality like that. It draws people closer to you, I suppose. I mean, all of the tourists seemed to be really fond of America as well.

He probably was a natural at making human friends – no, scratch that, he was a natural at making friends, regardless of race, sex, position, age or whatever else the other person was, did or had.

'Just like you,' Lovino calmly commented when I told him this.

I felt flattered and chuckled as we walked out of the restaurant, both of us holding the hands of our kids (like this: Lovino – Luisa – Matteo – Alejo – me, it looked super-cute).

'No, America really likes people, Lovino. He enjoys their company and doesn't mind befriending them, even though he knows he'll live longer than any of them. He's got so much love to give…'

'That's what I said – just like you.'

My cheeks were starting to redden. 'You… you really believe my heart's just as big as his?'

'No.'

Lovino raised his face and looked at me with such a tender, loving and slightly embarrassed expression that I thought my heart would snap in two.

'I don't think your heart's just as big as America's.'

He didn't say anything more and began talking with Luisa about a butterfly she had seen this afternoon.

And I, I just couldn't stop smiling.

I couldn't stop, and it was a good thing Alejo worriedly asked me at a certain moment if I felt okay because I swear I'd burst into happy-tears.

Ah, I was getting old, wasn't I…

/0o0\

Much, much later that day, after we had retreated our little family into the bed-and-breakfast hotel in which we had reserved one big family-of-five room, and after Lovino had told the kids another Don Quixote-story to help them fall asleep, I told him all about what I needed to tell him.

About America, about what he was doing, about what he had discovered so far and about this crazy act of his.

Lovi's face was kind of pale after I had told him all of this, but he didn't panic or stress – he just breathed in deeply and rolled on his back, folding his arms behind his head.

'Well, it's good to know he's not acting like a complete lunatic for no good reason.'

'That's all you have to say?' I asked when he didn't say anything else, and scratched my arm thoughtlessly as I gazed to the ceiling above us. Lovino and I had also gone off to bed shortly after the kids – today had been a pretty busy day after all, and we needed our rest for tomorrow. Especially since we were going back to our own place tomorrow evening. We needed the energy to peddle back home.

'What else can I say, dammit.' Lovino groaned softly. 'I don't feel like changing my theory about what's going to happen, if that's what you want to know. I really don't care about what shit other nations are thinking – as long as I believe my theory is realistic, logical and none too drastic, I'm not planning to think anything else. Especially not when the other options are so very depressing. I mean, shit, hiding themselves because they're scared their kids will be taken away? What the fuck are the others thinking? They need to stop watching scary police series and realize that this is the real life – not some dramatic sob-story.'

'Yes,' I said.

'That's all you have to say?' Lovino grinned amusedly and turned to his side. 'I kind of expected a sermon about how we should keep all the options in mind or crap like that.'

I smiled. 'As if that would convince you.'

'It wouldn't.'

'That's fine. I like your theory the most, too, so I won't allow my mind to think otherwise.'

'I won't allow that, either.'

'Alright.' I patted the mattress, searching for his hand, and felt a shot of happiness and relief shooting over my spine when I found it – already waiting for me to grab and hold on to it.

'Alright then, Lovi…' I muttered, '…alright.'

Lovino mumbled a quiet 'I love you' after a rather long silence and waited, and I guess he was waiting for me to pull him close and hug/kiss/love him, but while I was lying there, saying 'I love you too' and thinking god, how cute and lovable you are, I felt I was slowly falling asleep already.

Ah… sorry Lovi, my love.

I suppose I'll make it up to you tomorrow morning.