Hiya! It's been a while since I updated this, hasn't it? Sorry, my updating skills are horrible, so horrible that my last update was last year. ^_^" ... *slinks away in shame*

Me no own Hetaliano! ;D

If one asks Romano what he hates the most, that person might expect an array of answers just by taking a glance at Romano's daily life. He hates that damn potato eater, he hates that dumbass Spaniard's naïve optimism in even the most dire situations, he hates those smelly turtles that can't seem to die or go away, he hates that perverted French whore and his constant advances, and he hates how he's always pushed to the fucking shadows while his younger, more cheery brother steals the limelight. All of those things are what Romano hates, but none of them are what he hated the most. In fact, the one thing that Romano hates the most would shock almost everyone that knows him because it seemed that his life and daily routine depended on it.

Romano hates swearing.

Romano hates everything about the filthy vocabulary he acquired over the centuries, from the way it slithered into his everyday conversation to the way it embarrassed him whenever he was discussing serious topics with important dignitaries like his boss or the other nations' bosses, to the way it made strangers misjudge him before they even get to know him; he couldn't even go to the grocery store without being forcibly removed for public misconduct towards other customers. Romano mentally kicks himself every time he swears; it absolutely frustrated him to the point of depression how he could so easily let his tongue slip like that.

No, saying that isn't correct. Saying that he "let" the curses spout from his lips would lessen the severity of this problem. It contradicted the point of all those speech therapy sessions he voluntarily (and begrudgingly) took to control the Tourette's Syndrome that's eating away at his. It made light of the consequences his swearing problem had brought upon him, like the staining of his image and the lost opportunities to socialize; not once was he able to strike up a conversation with a nice stranger or establish his identity as the southern half of Italy without suddenly yelling like an angry sailor and scaring people away. Allowing himself to say that he "let" the outbursts come would confirm what those unknowing jerks say: that all of that was happening by will and that it's his fault that he wasn't able to make friends.

Romano wanted to laugh so much at that failed attempt at logic. No, he doesn't swear at random because he felt "cool"; no, he doesn't like swearing because it made him feel and look like a tough Mafia boss who can't be messed; no, he doesn't swear to freak people out and get their attention, and no, Tourette's Syndrome isn't a ridiculous excuse for people who don't know how or want to use their "filters." Who in their right mind would want to swear constantly and suffer the consequences that follows? Who would want to be overlooked for amazing opportunities like going to oversea business travels because the outbursts would turn away international travelers? Who in their right mind would want to beaten up by street thugs for involuntarily offending them (proving the whole "being like a Mafia boss" theory wrong)? Who would be insane enough to want to be isolated by strangers who were too afraid or too offended to give a second or third chance and learn about who the person truly is? Why would anyone want to be overshadowed by their younger brother because he's so damn jovial and easy to get along with and he doesn't scare people with his swearing and doesn't threaten to hurt them or rape them, even though his older brother wouldn't even dream of doing the same things.

Tourette's Syndrome has ruined Romano's life and still is, taking whatever bits of happiness and peace he scavenged like a vulture picking at animal cadavers. Worse of it all, no one seemed to bother to learn; if only they stopped judging Romano so damn quickly and let him explain his disorder, they could know who he truly is. If only they were willing to learn and try to understand...

Romano barged through the front doors of his home, his face set in a tired glare. Shrugging jerkily out of his jacket and tossing it onto the sofa, Romano stormed through the living room and headed straight for the kitchen, the aroma of sweet tomato simmering on the stovetop alerting the nation to his older brother Spain's presence. He walked to the kitchen's island-groaning inwardly at the sight of his brother's back as Spain busied himself at the stove- pulled out a stool, and plopped on it. He crossed his arms on the island's cool-tiled top and buried his face in the gape, sighing in both stress and relief.

"So, I take it this week's therapy session was just as stressful and dull as last week?" Spain questioned cheekily as he stirred the soup and added spices to it. He started to hum a pleasant tune to himself.

Please, God, I don't want to deal with this idiot's cheerful mood right now... Romano prayed he grumbled "fucking hell" to the island's top.

Spain turned around and smiled at him. "Was that you talking or the tic?" He chuckled. Romano snapped his head up as he glared at Spain, who put his palms up and shook his head. "Okay, okay, that was a bit offensive; I shouldn't have joked about something this serious; I'm sorry..."

Romano let his head fall back into his arms. Just when he felt his mind drift off into unconsciousness, to erase that day's burdensome load of silent glares, judgmental whispers, and even a couple of insults from a woman who was actually brave enough to rebuke Romano for a sin he couldn't stop from happening, Spain's voice broke through the muddied darkness and pulled Romano back out.

"So, if today wasn't too much of a draining experience for you, then do you still want to go?"

"W-what?" Romano asked groggily as he lifted his head from his arms again.

"Go to that farm to pick apples while their fresh and free, remember?" Spain said. He tilted his head and pouted. "Don't tell me you forgot that you promised to come apple-picking with me, hermano menor?"

Romano sighed tiredly. "Agh, Spain, I really-" He then felt his jaw clench, his eye twitch, and his shoulders tense, the things he were able to recognize as signs of a tic attack. In that split second that he detected the signs, Romano clamped his hands over his mouth and let the stream of obscenities pour out of his mouth, thankfully muffled by his palms and only lasting thirty seconds. When the tic was over, Romano cleared his throat and willed the redness from his cheeks to disappear. "S-Spain, I really don't feel like...going today..."

"But Roma! You promised!" Spain whined. "Why?"

Romano felt his eyebrows burrowed at the nation's whiny tone. "Because people will- fucking rape your ugly face!" Romano winced and banged his fist on the kitchen island in sheer frustration.

Spain's eyes widened as he smiled in amusement. "Heh heh, wow, they're only apples...I didn't know people will get so angry over picked apples."

"Dammit, Spain, this is not fucking funny! FUCK!" Romano roared at the top of his lungs before pushing away from the kitchen island and stomping off.

"Ah, wait! Romano, come on!" Spain sprint around the kitchen island and grabbed Romano's wrist, turning him around so he could look into Romano's eyes. "Okay, Romano, I'm sorry. I was just trying to make you feel better with my awesome comedic skills and I'm obviously failing. So tell me: why don't you want to go?"

"Because," Romano began, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, "b-because people will-"

"Now stop right there, Roma." Spain put his hand up. "If you're going to go on the whole 'people will judge me' bit, then let me tell you right now that is the most ridiculous excuse you've ever pulled out of your ass. You shouldn't let others bring you down so much that you're afraid to go out in public and enjoy yourself."

"Says the man who's not labeled as psychotic or suffering from a mental disease," Romano grumbled as he averted his glare.

"That's right, hermano, I'm not able to understand what you're going through because I'm not suffering it, so that's why I'm telling you this as a big brother who's looking out for you and your best interest, and not as a man with Tourette's Syndrome."

Romano's eyes widened. Although Spain was always acting like his protective and doting big brother, this time Romano felt like Spain was actually serious.

"Besides," Spain added as he threw an arm over Romano's shoulders, "I can already tell that your condition is improving fantastically!"

"...Davvero?"

"Si! Before the sessions, you were swearing and giving off threats-"

"Shitty sons of bitches!"

"...Like a crazed murderer for, like, every two minutes, and you'd punch a wall or flap your arms around like a cute frantic birdy. But now, the time length between each swear has stretched, and your arm-flapping-thingy stopped. I knew that Tourette's Syndrome would eventually improve in adulthood, but to see it ending in a quick pace is fascinating!"

Romano lifted a questioning eyebrow. "How do you know that Tourette's gets better in adults?"

Spain beamed sheepishly. "Eh, I looked up the disorder a couple of times during my off days; I have to learn how to help you, and what better way than to know what we're tackling here, right?" Spain turned away to go back to the stove. He stirred the soup and gave it a taste. "Mmm, Roma, the soup's ready. Grab a bowl so we can eat and go- Romano? Are you okay?"

Romano stood on the other side of the kitchen island, body tensed and fists shaking at his sides. His face was scrunched up, and to Spain it looked like he was trying to avoid another tic attack.

Spain tried to learn about Tourette's Syndrome...for me? Romano thought as he tried to avoid tearing up in joy. That stupid, kind-hearted bastard...

Wow, this chapter actually ended up on a good note! :O I'd like to see how often that will happen. So, I guess I'd like to say that I really haven't done people with Tourette's Syndrome any justice considering the fact that most of Romano's tics (a lot) were pretty much stereotypical. My apologies.

Well, now that I have spent my precious sleeping hours on this chapter, I guess I can drift off into dreamland knowing that I finally pulled an update out of my butt. Zzzzz...