Title: Scars
Pairing: Spamano, Romano and Canada friendship, PruCan
Rating: T
Warnings: Talk of self-injury, thoughts of suicide, and physical abuse. Abusive!Spain
Disclaimer: I, Prussia, swear that by now you should klnow I DO NOT own Hetalia!
Romano lifted a hand to knock on the door, still shaking with restrained emotions. As if the owner of the home knew he was coming, and by now he probably expected it, the door opened before the Italian could even knock. Canada stood there, dressed in just an oversized red shirt, wearing a tired yet worried expression.
"Come in, Romano, you'll catch your death out here."
"It would probably be welcomed right now if I did." The brunette sighed, trembling as he stepped over the threshold.
Canada sighed as well, leading his friend to the living room. "Welcomed by you, or him?"
"Both." Romano mumbled, hiding his face in his hands as he sat on the couch. Matthew sat next to him and placed an arm around the shaking shoulders. Romano just cried, letting all the tears spill out of him, taking some of the pain with them.
It was Spain again. He had come home from the bar, drunk and angry at everything. And of course, Romano was there for him to take his frustrations out on. He could practically hear the Spaniard sneering in his ear, "You worthless piece of shit, why do I keep you anyway? Oh yeah, you're a good screw every now and then." The worst part of it wasn't the beatings. It wasn't the insulting torment Romano would have to endure. The worst part was that he couldn't even hate that bastard for this, because Antonio would only forget the next day. Spain had a nasty habit of beating the snot out of his 'lover' and then not remembering once he woke up again.
How many times had Romano covered bruises, or scars? How many times had he made up lies for him? Told him he had fallen, or tripped, or run into something? Why did he still stay with him despite the pain?
Canada just let him cry himself out. He needed this more than anything else right now. When the tears had finally stopped, Canada lifted Romano's face to reveal swollen red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. "It's okay, Romano. You're safe here."
"Thank you," he creaked in a voice hoarse from crying.
"It's the least I could do." Canada murmured, hugging his Italian friend. "We're friends. And I know a thing or two about scars…"
He was referring to the times when no one had noticed him. When no one knew who he was, and ignored him. When Matthew wore long sleeves to hide ladders of cuts up and down his arms. When he had wanted nothing more than to die and fade away for real. No one noticed him then, would they even notice if he was gone? The times before Gilbert.
But then Prussia had confronted Matthew. He had confessed his love for the younger nation, and they had been together happily ever since. Now Canada only wanted the same for his friend…
They sat there on the couch through the night, long into the early morning, with Matthew just holding Romano, offering his silent comfort.