A/N: So . . . . -scratches head- . . . . how'd you like Antonio? :3

Warning: At the way end will be some flashbacks of quotes and stuff, so just bare with it, okay? Alright! Enjoy reading! ^.^d

Roderich tossed and turned in his sleep as he kicked at his sheets. As cold as the thermometer in his room said it was, he felt beads of sweat making down their way to the nape of his neck. He brushed his hand on his forehead to clear some of the sweat.

He finally swung his legs to the side of his bed, not being able to stand it any longer. Pushing his glasses up he slipped on his slippers and tied on his dark blue robe and proceeded to walk out of his room and into the hall.

He hunched over a little as it felt awkward to walk. He finally made it down the end of the hallway and into his office he kept at Ludwig's home. There he switched on his desks' lamp and quietly stared at his wooden desk and the mess of papers on it.

" . . . that idiot," he mumbled as he eyed a particular drawer. He tapped his fingers on the wooden desk as he bit his lip, indecisive of what to do.

"Ugh," he finally breathed as he opened the drawer reaching in with a shaking hand at the envelopes. He randomly opened one of the letters and re-read a note.

Dear Specs,

Today Toris and I were sent by Ivan to a supermarket in the scorching heat. I was [finally] glad about my clothes having been thin. My arm is still sore from yesterday's beating though. I like the picture you sent me; thanks. I keep it with the others in the rip inside my mattress. I'm glad to know my brother's health is improving. Tell him he's awesome! I love him a lot. As always I have you on my mind. I miss you a lot too, I can't even begin to describe.

Gilbert B.

Roderich put it away as he pulled out other old letters. Reading Gilbert's letters from so long ago didn't help in calming the erection that kept him up. He then shoved his letters away as he heard a faint knock on the door.

"R-Roderich?" yawned Ludwig in a white shirt and black shorts, "what are you doing up? It's 2 AM," he said as he rubbed his sore eyes.

"I . . . I couldn't sleep," he mumbled, not looking up. He grabbed at his groin as he forced a smile. He gulped hard as he ogled at the man before him with messy blond hair and a very tired expression. He felt his erection stiffen as the German crossed his arms, Roderich unable to ignore the man's physique that bulged from beyond the man's clothes.

"I'm very sorry about the party and Gilbert. I can't say the same about my brother. I know how close you two were and how worried you must be for him. I'm worried too. I would have thought he would have already tried sneaking back inside, but none of my dogs outside barked for any signs of an intruder. If you'd like I could-"

"N-no thank. I just feel a little less . . . woozy sitting at a desk is all. Go back to bed," grinned the Austrian nervously.

"Alright. Well, sleep soon please," wished Ludwig as he turned and closed the door behind himself. Roderich's smile turned to a quivering frown.

"Oh God," he whispered as he began to sob, "h-how could I . . . . . . and eyeing him like that . . . ?"

He cried quietly as he pulled his face over the edge of the desk.

"Gilbert . . . ," he whispered as he inhaled air rapidly, trying to speak past his faint sobs. He slid his face to its right side.

"You don't know how much this all hurts," he whispered as he held on his hardened erection with both hands now.

"Hey, wake up sleepy head."

"Uhn, n-no."

"Come on, I have tamales and tea waiting for us downstairs. Want me to make you a fresh pizza? With extra sauce?" said the voice over his body in an eager tone. Romano couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Sure, why not?"

"Que vale! Alright!" cried the male voice as it hoped right off Romano's bed. As the bed shaked from the loss of weight, Romano's eyes fluttered right open as he stared at his ceiling, all the color of his voice seeping away.

"A-Antonio?" he muttered.

"Si? You called? I'm in my room dressing! Man, does my head hurt!" laughed the Spaniard as Romano could hear hopping, probably Antonio putting on his pants.

"Ouch!" the man squeaked as he fell back on his bed with a laugh. Romano slowly sat up on his elbows as he stared at the direction of his open door with an open mouth.

"Hey Romano, c'mon and get dressed, we have to get down there and eat! Desayuno isn't gonna eat itself!" laughed Antonio as he ran past his door and down the flight of stairs. Romano threw the sheets over his naked body and put on some clothes he could find.

What the hell what the hell, what the hell! He repeated in his head in a panic as he shoved the kitchen door open.

"AAAGH!" cried the boy as he came face to face with a bloody knife and a pleasant smile on Antonio's bloody face.

"What's the matter Romano? Oh are you upset too? Yeah, I cut the tomatoes a little weird so now the taste in the pizza might be a little weird. You know how I love to cut my tomatoes!" cried Antonio a she hugged Romano in his messy state. Romano nervously pushed the man back as he looked at him horrified.

"Who are you?" asked Romano bluntly as he pointed at the man.

"It's me, Romano! You must be hungrier than I thought!" smiled the man as he put the knife down and took out some dishes from a cupboard.

"Are you . . . feeling alright?" asked Romano as he raised a brow at him.

"Yup! Never better! What is it with you and all these silly questions?"

"It's just that . . . ," Romano then glanced at Antonio's forehead that had no bruise whatsoever. He reached his hands on the man's face to take a closer look.

"R-Romano?" asked Antonio as his face flushed pink.

No bruises?

Romano let go as he slowly sat back down in a chair.

This doesn't make any sense.

"Here, I'll go pop the pizza in the oven!" grinned Antonio as he placed plates of food before the Italian lad. He returned to join Romano at the breakfast table. As he peeled off the outside skin of his tamale, he noticed Romano hadn't touched his food and just staring blankly at it.

"What's wrong? Does it smell bad or something?" asked the man concerned.

"N-no . . . I just feel a little weird is all," he muttered as he grabbed a fork and picked at the tamale still in its skin.

"Weird huh? Well hear this! I had a dream about trying to slash Gilbert with an axe!"

Romano dropped his fork on the plate. He slowly stared up at Antonio with a paled expression.

"Oh yes, pretty weird! I tried attacking him with bubbling rage! I couldn't think straight! One look at him and I just wanted to cut him in half! I even aw you naked!"

Romano's face turned to a red shade.

"You were awful cute. Then I tried tearing a door down! Can you imagine! Just this morning I woke up with my face hurting. Also, I thought I punched Gilbert too. It was pretty rough, but man am I glad that was all a dream!" smiled Antonio.

"But still, seeing you like that was- OUCH!"

"Antonio?"

Antonio flinched as his face slammed on the table.

"What's wrong?" mumbled Romano as he got up from his seat.

"I . . . um . . . . my groin hurts," he muttered as he blushed embarrassed.

"Tch, why would it hurt?" asked Romano. He then recalled how Gilbert had kicked Antonio there last night.

"Gee, I wonder why," he said looking away bashfully.

"Well stop doing whatever it is that is making it hurt! You sitting weird or something?" Romano bent over under the table to see Antonio grabbing his groin in pain.

"Um, uh," Antonio tried avoiding eye contact, "no."

"Then? Get the hell up then!" yelled Romano as he went over to Antonio's side. As he grabbed the man's shoulder, Antonio bit at his lip in pain.

"OWW!" he yelped as Romano forced him up.

"Why the hell are you in-?" Romano looked hard at Antonio's vital regions once more till it finally hit him.

"Um, Romano . . .?" uttered the Spaniard embarrassed beyond anything.

"I'll come back when you calmed down," the Italian uttered as he walked out of the room, his blush already crept up to the tips of his ears.

The brunette quietly sat himself in the living room, staring at the doorway he just came from.

What's going on? No bruises, weird memory, he doesn't even know last night was not a dream . . .

"I'm so sorry Romano, I don't know what came over me," mumbled Antonio in a defeated tone as he walked into the living room, slouching with his arms dropped in front of him. He dropped his weight full force as he sat tiredly on the couch opposite of Romano's. The man blushed a little as he nervously scratched the back of his head.

"I'm sorry, it'll never happen again! I don't know why it hurts so much there," he explained.

"Please," mumbled Romano annoyed as he raised his hand to stop him from speaking, "no more."

"Alright. Well I put the dishes to wash. What do you wanna do now? I can't run or anything though, my head hurts a little. So does my face, right here," he said as he pointed at one of his cheek, "like I got punched or something."

Romano gulped and looked away.

"But it was all a dream, none of it was real. So hey, wanna go visit your brother?" he asked in a cheery tone, "we can make a picnic and I'll even make that salsa you like so much and-!"

"N-no, I don't want to see him right now," mumbled Romano shaking his head as he avoided eye contact.

Do I tell him it was real? Or is this for the best?

"Oh. Did you two have a fight? I'll go call and apologize," said Antonio reaching for a phone that sat on a table besides him. Romano literally flung himself across the room and grabbed the phone.

"NOO!"

"Ugh!" he grunted as he landed hard on the floor. Antonio looked at him uneasy.

"Um, what's the . . ?"

"Don't call him, or anyone. I just want it to be us right now. So I can get something straight," mumbled Romano as he got to his knees and put the phone back. He rubbed his butt feeling a little sore.

"Straight? What's there to get straight?" the Spaniard asked raising a brow.

"Um, I wanted to get straight . . . my clothes! Yes, my clothes! That World Meeting we're hosting remember! I don't know what I want to wear!" yelled Romano as he poked his arms up with nervous enthusiasm.

"Clothes?" repeated Antonio.

"Yes! Why don't you help me pick out an outfit! I'll help you too if you want. Let's go; I'll go get everything out of my closet," mumbled Romano as he ran up the steps.

"Um, alright! Coming!" cried Antonio as he ran after the Italian.

Romano and Antonio now were in the Spaniard's room contemplating on what Antonio should wear. Though Romano had first suggested helping him pick out an outfit for himself, he pushed the Spaniard into his room, wanting to help him instead. Currently, the Italian man sat at the end of Antonio's bed with crossed arms as he stared into space blankly.

"Alright so you think these two are the best for me?" asked Antonio as he pulled a black tuxedo with a red undershirt up.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Those two," he mumbled as he took a glance at Antonio. The Spaniard frowned as he put his clothes over a chair and sat next to Romano.

"Alright, something is clearly wrong. Primero no quieres hablar a Feliciano (First you don't want to talk with Feliciano), now you're staring into space? What's wrong?" he asked as he tried making contact with Romano's face.

The boy sighed deeply as he turned his body to face the man. He clutched at his khaki uniform.

"C-can I ask you something? It's been . . . bothering my friend," mumbled Romano turning red as he began to stare at his lap.

"Sure, for your friend," he smiled.

"Well, something embarrassing happened to him. He was humiliated by everyone then he tried hurting his friends. I don't know what came over him. He didn't know what he was doing. He drank a lot and was . . . drugged . . . but he was still pretty mean."

"Has he been having bad days?" asked Antonio. Romano nodded his head.

"Yes! A-and he's been awfully stressed too!"

"Sounds like he just didn't hurt his friends because he was drunk or anything. There's always a reason behind a man's violence!" spoke Antonio in as a-matter-of-fact way as he tapped his head, "something must be bothering this friend. Is he bothering you?"

Romano looked up at Antonio's eyes and stared, a little speechless.

"N-no."

"Is he just bothering your friends?"

Romano shook his head slowly.

"Not exactly; he's been a real jerk to one friend and-"

The Italian then covered his mouth as an image of Gilbert flashed into mind.

"We can never be together in peace. You'll be happier without me."

He felt a small sob trying to make its way out of his mouth.

"R-Romano? Is something wrong?" asked Antonio as he tried patting Romano's back. The Italian then glanced up at the Spaniard's soft and confused chestnut brown eyes.

"He'll never leave me!"

The almost monster like image of Antonio swinging his axe around crept into mind.

"I have something in my eyes," cried the boy in a low hush as he ran from Antonio's closeness and into a bathroom down the hall.

Antonio covered half of his face with a hand.

"Did I do something wrong? Was I too close? Shoot!" he cursed to himself almost in a comical way as he swung a fist.

"Maybe next time I'll scoot closer and closer instead of sitting way too close to him to begin with. Yes! I wonder who his friend is? Poor fellow. Wonder what's wrong."

He then looked up from speaking to himself as he heard the phone downstairs ring. He looked around for ten seconds as it rang.

"Um, I'll get it Romano!" he yelled as he pushed the clothes away and ran down the stairs in haste. As he grabbed onto the receiver, he slips and falls on his butt. He grunts as he automatically reaches at his pants.

"H-hello?" he finally asked as he slowly got up.

"Antonio? Is that you?" asked Ludwig from the other end. Antonio immediately let go of his throbbing groin as he stood up straight and placed his hand on his forehead.

"I-I'm sorry sir! You see I fell down so it hurt and I just had to-!"

"Woah woah woah. Hold on a sec'. Your fine?"

"Um, yeah, w-why wouldn't I be?" asked Antonio a little confused.

Was I supposed to be hurt before? What's wrong with everyone?

"That's nice to hear. I wanted to check up on you. We were all real worried yesterday."

"About what?" asked Antonio putting a hand to his hip, "did I do something to hurt myself yesterday?"

On the other end Ludwig sat in his office with a puzzled expression. Feliciano slept quietly on a chair and rested his head on the desk. He looked straight up, baffled.

Did he think it was all a dream?

"Hello? Ludwig? Alemania?" asked Antonio on the other end.

Maybe it's for the best he never remembers trying to kill us. Thought Ludwig to himself as his stern look deepened.

"Oh no. I 'm just curious. Anyway, I wanted to apologize about my brother yesterday," said Ludwig as he leaned back in his seat, taking a small break from his paperwork.

Wha?

"I'm afraid I might be arriving a little late at the World Meeting your holding. I can't seem to get a hold of my brother. He ran off and I haven't been able to find him. I'm a little worried."

"Oh, really? I'm sorry; is there anything I can do?" asked Antonio.

His brother? Run away?

"LUDWIG!" cried Roderich as he barged in the man's office. Startled, Ludwig jumped and dropped the phone.

"Roderich! Please knock before you enter!" cried the German a little annoyed as he pushed himself back in the seat and tried looking for his phone. At the loud noise, Feliciano twitched a little in his seat. Roderich smacked the boy in the back.

"AAH!" yelped Feliciano at the pain as he shot up.

"I'm sorry for sleeping on the job! I'll never do it again!" he begged as he stood up straight, quivering in fear with saliva coming down his mouth.

"Sorry isn't going to bring that damn man back in here! We have to look for him! He could be dead in a ditch someplace!" yelled Roderich as he shoved Feliciano to the side and glared at Ludwig. Ludwig sighed as he kept crawling on his floor thru the mess of papers.

"Please Roderich you're scaring me and I'm trying to speak to Antonio here," said Ludwig, "where is that phone? !"

"Look, I know you two are still very tired from that ordeal last night but-!"

"Antonio? He's awake? Is he alright? !"cried the Italian as he reached over the desk and hit the German's head with his chin. Feliciano went unaffected by any pain he would have felt as Ludwig growled in pain.

"Back off! You can't speak to him!" yelled Ludwig as he finally grabbed on the phone's receiver. He shoved Feliciano away as the lad tried reaching for the phone.

"HEY ANTONIO! IT'S ME FELICIANO! I HOPE YOU'RE FINE AND NOT SOME SCARY MAN ANYMORE! THAT GILBERT IS A TOTAL JERK! HE IS SO MEAN TO ROMANO TRYING TO-!"

"SHUT UP!" hissed Ludwig as he shoved the Italian down. The boy began kicking as Ludwig stepped on him with one foot.

"Ludwig! Listen to me! We have to go find Gilbert! What if-!"

"I'm scared for him too Roderich!" growled Ludwig. The Austrian and Italian boy piped down at this new side of anger of their friend. Feliciano retreated behind Roderich in fear as Roderich shook a little.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm tired' that's no excuse. We'll go looking for him, I promise. He's probably out in the forest still asleep or something. He couldn't have gone far in one day. Gilbert is safe; we'll deal with him when he gets back. Keep quiet about it; we mustn't tell anyone. Especially Antonio," he mumbled. Roderich and Feliciano both nodded as they got calm.

"I'm sorry Ludwig," apologized Roderich as he clutched on his blue coat, "I have to . . . go . . . do something," he uttered in a low voice as he slowly stepped out of the room.

"Why's he so worried about Gilbert? He did that mean stuff to Antonio!" said Feliciano frowning angrily. Ludwig just glanced at his friend, almost wanting to laugh as he's never seen the boy so . . . well it wasn't anger it was more like a childish sulk.

"Shh, calm down. Excuse me Antonio, where were we? I was interrupted," sighed the man as he sat back down in his seat.

Silence.

"Antonio? Hey, are you there? Antonio?"

On the other end, Ludwig's voice could be heard calling from the phone's receiver that lied on the floor. Antonio had long dropped it' well' more like abandon.

"Gilbert?"

"[I thought you wanted to fight!] [Get away before anyone gets hurt.] [I don't want to make you cry.]" (Gilbert speaking)

"He . . . "

"[He's just my friend!][Have you never seen a rash before?][Leave him alone!][I have this friend . . .]" (Romano speaking)

"Romano?"

"[He loves me! Me! Me! ME!][He'll never abandon me!][I love him!]" (himself speaking)

He grabbed at his head; where were these voices coming from?

"Gilbert . . . ."

"-did all that mean stuff to Antonio! (Feliciano speaking)

-I'm worried about my brother too. (Ludwig speaking)

-Mustn't tell anyone. Especially Antonio. (Ludwig speaking)

-Are you alright? (Ludwig speaking)

The axe.

-Trying to slash Gilbert with an axe! (himself speaking)

Romano naked on the floor.

Gilbert defending him."

"Gilbert . . . . ," mumbled Antonio in a low voice as his arms fell to his sides.

"Are you in love with someone?" (himself speaking)

" . . . yes." (Romano speaking)

"I have a friend . . . he hurt my other friends. He didn't know what he was doing." (Romano speaking)

"I don't know what I'm doing?" asked Antonio aloud as he tilted his head slowly to the right. He narrowed his eyes angrily as he stared.

"Gilbert is safe . . . . He's only been gone for one day." (Ludwig speaking)

"I'll show you," he whispered as he walked up the stairs slowly. His auburn bangs covered over his eyes, giving his face a dark appearance. His small frown turned to a sharp smile.

"I'll show you never to mess with me . . . . . Gilbert," he giggled as he headed for his room and looked at the wall, eyeing his axe.

A/N: What in what's name possessed me to write a borderline mentally unstable Antonio? -Shrugs- I HAD to write it! Out of all the Prussia/Romano fanfiction I've attempted to read, none had a very . . . emotional wrecked . . . Antonio! So I just had to go for it! ^.^U

Alright you guys, clearly we know that isn't how our normal Antonio. We come to realize at this point of the story he has a personality-dysfunction of sorts. His normal self and his mad(?) jealous self which is triggered by, well, Gilbert of course! Some violence to come I guess. I am still musing on the idea!

To answer a question yes Antonio overheard Ludwig and company's conversation. Alas I will also add more off Romano's sadness over Gilbert! I couldn't really get to it as I was focusing on the other cast!

Where did the axe come from? Well in one of the first ever pictures of Spain drawn he was given the weapon choice of an axe.

Hopefully next chapter in one week from now if I'm motivated enough!

Review please! :3