(Note: This is unedited, so there will be spelling mistakes I'm sure, and not all the details have been added yet, so it's sort of sketchy right now. But... Yeah. Enjoy if you can, though I warn you it is mpreg, like I have said before. If you don't like you don't have to read it, I don't care *shrugs*)
Roses Are Red, Some Diamonds Are Blue
Prolouge: Till' Death Do Us Part
The darkened light of the moon filtered through the open windows curtains, the silver light reflecting across the wood floor in many different shattered shades of blue, like a solemn stained glass Cathedral window. Bathed in this light laid two figures on the bed, recently united, both attempting sleep. Silence enveloped the room in an eerie calm, one could probably hear a pin drop on the wodden floors in the black silence. The halls clock striked the time, interupting the silence, shattering what was so ahrd to achieve, past midnight, three in the morning. The grandfather’s clocks chime may have waken one who wasn’t used to its call, but now it didn’t matter, for one of the figures in bed was already awake, listening to its empty chiming.
“… Damn, why can’t I sleep?” The voice questioned aloud, but quietly, as to not wake the sleeping partner next to him. Insomnia pounded at his head, making every tick of the large hall clock so much louder in his mind, ending any chance he would have at the sweet bliss of sleep. Sweet, blessed unconsciousness that he wished for so badly now, wanting, waiting for it to take him over. But it wouldn’t. No, it just wouldn’t, he was never that lucky. His mind still reeled yesterday’s earlier actions. What he did.
He got married.
He never thought that he would be the kind of person to ever be tied down in a marriage. Even though he was a Nation (or at least half of one), and would live a thousand lifetimes unless his Italian country perished, or he was wounded beyond repair (in which case his brother would rule the whole of Italy, though that would be a disaster) he never thought he’d love anyone. Why would he? When no one bothered to love him? He was only the Southern half of Italy, or Romano, while his younger brother being the Northern half. And despite being younger, he was the better Italy twin. His brother, Feliciano, may be a cry baby but he was talented in art and trade, and he was kind, and sweet. While he… was about as sweet as bitter wormwood dipped in acid. Everyone loved Feliciano. He was a perfect gemstone, while what was he but a gray rock in comparison?
Despite being the younger, Feliciano was already married, long before he himself had. Though he hated who he had married. His younger brother married, who he liked to call, ‘that potato-bastard, kraut’. His real name was Ludwig, and he was the personified embodiment of the country of Germany. Romano hated Ludwig with every fiber of his living, yet admittedly small being. He was always afraid that he would hurt his poor little brother… Ah yes, Ludwig was a boy as well. Yes, his brother married another male. But what was to be expected? They were nations, something like that was so easily over looked in their times. Alliances often led to forced marriages to form empires, so it happened often. But, much less often, were there willed marriages. Not for power, or to form an empire, but just for their interests, for love. It didn’t happen often, but that was why Feliciano had married Ludwig, because they were in ‘love’. The thought sickened Romano.
But anyhow, the point being that Romano never thought he’d find love for himself like his brother had. No one really liked him. That was understandable though, with his attitude and all. But, there were a couple of people who cared about him. His brother, for one, since they were family, though they never seemed to talk, or hang out so often anymore. And the other was the embodiment of Spain. His name was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Or as Romano liked to call him ‘that bastard’. Spain had been his boss when he was a child, and raised him, despite all of Romano’s insults, and physical abuse to his so-called ‘boss’. Spain seemed to realize that Romano insulted everyone, it was just the way he was and he should expect no different. Though he did once try to trade him for his brother, Feliciano, a thought that annoyed, yet secretly saddened Romano. He didn’t want Spain to get rid of him, of course.
Austria had refused to trade with Spain, of course, so he was stuck with Romano in the end. But as time dwelled on Spain seemed to realize that he liked having Romano around, or at least, that was what he told Romano when he asked. He said that when they first met he knew that Romano wasn’t the brightest, strongest, or best (Romano hit him for saying such) but he also said that he wouldn’t trade him for anything. Most people hated Romano because they didn’t bother to get to know him at all. But Spain did… and he said that in the end he loved it. Of course it took Romano a long time to start to believe that statement, of course. Why should he believe what he said? His own grandfather loved Feliciano over him, so why would a stupid Spaniard love him? And no matter how hard Spain tried to convince him of his love, Romano still ignored him, didn’t believe him. Though Romano hated the fact that he did care that Spain cared, and he well knew that if Spain left him he would cry, and he hated that he knew he would be upset, hated that there was nothing he could do to change it. And he secretly loved all of Spain’s secret sneak attacks, when Antonio would jump out of nowhere and tackle him in a hug, or kiss him. And Romano loved the screaming, and fighting, and kissing in the rain. A roller coaster kind of love, it was. Spain was so in love that he was acting sick, and Romano loved it. Because it meant that someone loved him enough to try so hard to make him love him.
And in the end, Spain did succeed, and did show Romano how much he loved him. He finally broke through the stubborn shell the Italian held, to get him to understand his love. To get Romano to finally feel something. He never knew he could feel so much, actually. He knew that he had loved Spain all his life; he was just too stubborn to admit it aloud. He didn’t want to, because he wasn’t positive that Spain truly loved him for him, not just as second best to his brother, or just because he looked like his brother. That there was actually someone who loved him because of who he was. He didn’t know how to feel about it, but he didn’t want Spain saying something out loud that he didn’t mean. But Antonio did mean it, he said. And soon Romano believed it… and then… Antonio proposed.
He said: ‘Te amo, Lovi. Por favor, be mine. So I can make you believe that I love you, and I have all my life.’ Of course Romano’s first reaction was to yell at him for being an idiot. But the blush on his face said it all, and Antonio joked how he looked like the tomatos he loved so much. But the laughter didn’t last long, for Romano was quick to then break into tears, which worried Antonio greatly. ‘What’s wrong, Lovi?’ He had asked, ‘Oh Dios, please tell me I didn’t just ruin everything,’ And Romano had replied with a violent punch in the stomach, an insult, then wrapped his arms around the older man and stubbornly refused to let go. He was so good at being stubborn.
‘L-lovi?’ Spain had continued with that nickname of his he had given Romano, shortening his name ‘Lovino’, the nickname that Romano constantly told him not to use. ‘Are you ok? Does this mean you love me too? Si?’ Spain questioned, not receiving much of a response. Romano had sat back, letting Spain go, who folded his hands in a sort of prayer-like manner and looked at the younger, almost begging. Romano’s bangs hid his face at the time, but Spain knew he was still crying, no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind his bangs. ‘Lovino…’ He pressed, using his first name for the first time in so long. Then Romano chose to look up, his hazel eyes locking onto Antonio’s emerald green ones. His pale hands raised, ready to clasp around Antonio’s folded ones. But then they were quick to take a detour, cupping around Spain’s face instead and pulling him into a quick kiss. But however quick, he was sure to pull all of his current emotions into it. Inferiority, loneliness, pain, abandonment, and a deep hurt Spain could only partially understand. But there was also love, and a happiness Antonio knew to pick out of the tangled mess of emotions that formed a brick wall, or maybe a bridge, between them. The contact was short, and Romano was quick to pull back, leaving Antonio also blushing red like the tomatos they both loved so much. And Romano said, ‘You idiot… yes. Yes, damnitt.’
The wedding had been small, just how Romano said, or demanded, that it be. And he claimed he was not wearing a dress, and that he had to approve of all the guests who were allowed to come. Antonio had easily complied of course, he was too happy to refuse. Besides, it should be the wife’s choice, yes? (Romano promptly hit him for calling him the ‘wife’) Though Antonio did press that Romano let him invite his friends, France and Prussia, both of which he was well aware Romano hated (and was afraid of, in France’s case). But, Romano reluctantly agreed to it, and the guest list was set. Antonio’s two best friends would come, France being his best man (Antonio couldn’t decide who, so they flipped a coin to pick who would do the job) Romano’s brother Feliciano and his husband Ludwig would come as well, though Romano wasn’t too happy about the later. Japan as well, because Feliciano begged for him to: ‘let Nihon-san come, ve~’ for a long while till he broke down. Romano also allowed Austria, and his ex-wife Hungary to come, another pair his brother begged him to allow to come. Romano didn’t quite like Austria, but he let it slide, and let the two come. The only rule being that Hungary had to stay away from him and not try to put him in a dress like she ever so constantly does. Her and her creepy habits. Anyway, and with that the small guest list had been set, and was all planned for a small cathedral in the heart of Italy, another preference of Romano’s that Spain happily went along with. The other details seemed so small, because in this case the wedding details weren’t important, all that mattered was the vows, the act of being married was all they both wanted. So the date was set, and the wedding was to happen so soon. Though it was the day of the wedding that Romano realized how big of a deal it all really was.
‘Your vows?’ Romano muttered quickly to Antonio, who seemed to have zoned out with that grin on his face in the middle of the wedding. All in the church was quiet, waiting for the vows to be exchanged between the two soon-to-be-wed-couple. Romano felt so nervous now, he didn’t know if he could take it. At first it seemed so distant, like it didn’t matter, yet now, he didn’t know if he could take it. His heart beat hard and loud, so he was sure that it must have been heard throughout the church, and he feared it may just fail on him. Though it only got worse as Spain spoke, and said: ‘Ah. Well… I tried to write something to say to you Lovi, about our lives together. Sure, we had bad and good times, Dios knows that, but still I loved you all along, even when you refused to believe it. I can’t express this in words, at least, not words that someone like you deserves. So, I guess what I’m trying to say here is… Te amo, Lovi.’ The small crowed had quietly ‘aww…’ed at this, which made Romano want to rip out their vocal cords and stomp on them. Antonio had of course noticed how he was hanging his head, and leaned down to get a good look at his face. ‘Lovi? Why are you crying?’ He had said. Romano cursed his stupidity and looked up, the tears pouring to the smile he so rarely ever showed. ‘You bastard!’ He had yelled, before jumping forward and pulling the other in a deep kiss, which Antonio of course didn’t refuse. The pastor, on the other hand, had been a bit confused, since they hadn’t even said their I-do’s yet. But when he pointed this out, the only response he got was a cold ‘screw you’ from Romano before he kissed Antonio once more. Luckily for them, France stepped in and explained to the Pastor for them, who nodded, and pronounced them ‘husband and…. Legally bonded’. Antonio then proceeded to lift Romano off his feet bridal style, despite much screaming and protest from Romano who demanded to be let down immediately Though Antonio’s only response was ‘Never, Lovi, never.’
And… then there was the honeymoon. But that’s all you need to know about that.
All this replayed in Romano’s mind, like a record stuck on reply, or a slide show at super speed. The golden band around his left ring finger felt warm and heavy on his hand at the thoughts. But did he regret this? No, he didn’t. To have someone love him… Love? Yes, love. He had never heard anyone, even his grandfather say ‘I love you’ to him before. Spain was the first. He cared first, he admitted it first, and he kissed first. How could he regret it? He loved him. He didn’t think Spain knew how much he really loved him.
Romano turned over to his side to look at the sleeping figure next to him at this thought. Antonio’s naturally messy, dark chocolate brown hair dusted into his face, shading his suntanned skin as he slept. Even when he slept he seemed to have a happy air about him. He was always happy, Romano thought. His eyes were closed, and Romano wished he could see the green hues that lied behind them. He wished Antonio was awake to say ‘I love you’ again, so Romano knew that this wasn’t all a dream, that they really were married. That Spain loved him. Romano’s eyes glanced over to the gold band that was also around Antonio’s left ring finger, which signified their bond. It had to be real….
Romano laid his head back on his pillow, feeling that hot sting in his eyes that signified tears. He didn’t want to cry, he really didn’t. Holding back the tears was the one thing he was actually really good at. But right now, he felt like crying. He didn’t know why, but it was just so surreal. And he was… happy.
“Lovi?” He didn’t expect to hear the honey thick, yet sleepy tone next to him. Romano opened his eyes once again to look at the owner of the voice, seeing those emerald green eyes that Spain held looking back at him. Spain at first seemed tired, then smiled habitually at seeing Romano, then looked worried at the sight of his lover crying, all this happening in record time. “Lovi? Is something wrong?”
“No, damnit.” Romano replied stubbornly, furiously wiping the tears away from his eyes. “Bastard, why are you awake?” He demanded, looking back at him once he was sure he dried most of the tears away, though one still spilled over his eyes, sliding down his cheek.
“I was going to ask you that.” Antonio replied, reaching up and wiping away the single tear with a warm thumb, receiving a habitual blush from Romano’s part. “Why are you awake?”
“Can’t sleep.” Romano grumbled, though he regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. This was because it did no good to help make Antonio’s worried gaze go away. Romano hated seeing that look, because he partially didn’t want to believe Antonio was worried. But also, though selfish, he liked that Antonio worried about him. “Didn’t help that you kept me up till midnight with… well, you know…” He trailed, usually vigor influenced tone drowned in the current embarrassment, and his face tinged red by the thought. Antonio chuckled deeply,
“You liked it, Lovi.” He replied smoothly, teasingly. “But then again, so did I~”
“Sh-shut up!” Romano sputtered, and he could feel the heat on his face now physically, and he knew he was blushing quiet deeply at the time. Antonio laughed, obviously loving to see Romano embarrassed. He always loved to see Romano sputtering and red like a tomato in embarrassment.
“You’re so cute, Lovi.” Antonio mused quietly, leaning his cheek on his palm and smiling at his lover, who scowled, red in the face, in return. Antonio sat up a bit and leaned forward, capturing the younger’s lips in a brief kiss to keep him from a sharp insult in response to being cute. If only for a moment that was. Besides, how could he resist his little Lovi when he was blushing and being so cute like he was now? But, unfortunately it only was a moment of silence, for when Antonio sat back away from the now deeply blushing Italian; he got a quiet response of,
“I’m not cute, damnit…,” as Romano adverted his gaze to the sheets below him. That prompted a soft smile from the Spaniard as he watched his melancholy lover stare at the sheets. He was well aware that Romano got like this often. He never did believe just how much Spain loved him, or that anyone cared about him for that matter. And that left it up to Spain to make sure he understood that Antonio thought he was the best thing this world had to offer to him.
“You’re very cute, Lovi. Te amo.” He said, that familiar smile never leaving his face. Romano glanced warily up at him for a moment before he muttered in defeat,
“…I love you too… bastard.” Saying bastard just seemed to be his line of defense against what he really felt, and Antonio knew this, so he knew not to be offended by the phrase. Romano usually meant the opposite of all his insults when it came to Antonio.
“Muchos gracias, Lovi, I’m glad.” Spain smiled at his lover for a long moment before he placed a gentle hand on the Italian’s small shoulder and said, “Lay back down, facing away from me.”
“Wha-? What the hell-“
“Just do it.” Spain interrupted him with another reassuring smile, “Trust me Lovi.” Though Romano obviously looked like he wanted to protest more about the situation, being tired as he was, he reluctantly did as he was told, settling back into the sheets, back facing Antonio. Spain scooted a bit closer to Lovino, settling himself into position next to him. He then raised a hand and began to caress the others back, rubbing his hand up and down his spine and shoulder blades gently, in what he hoped to be a calming fashion. He did this a lot when Romano was younger, he thought, a smile ghosting his face at the pleasant memories of such. At the touch Lovino shuddered a bit, a light, yet betraying gasp escaping his pale lips. Antonio noticed this, and teasingly proceeded to slide his hand under Romano’s night shirt, up his bare skin. His skin was soft, and smooth to the touch, bringing pleasant memories to the Spaniard. Lovino was enjoying the touch, loving how Spain was able to calm him so easily with something so simple as massaging his back. But it did calm him, and help him let go of his usually bent up tension. It never really occurred to anyone that Romano was a tense person like he was. Antonio though, probably knew this better than anyone else.
“…Go to sleep, mi tomio.” Antonio cooed quietly, with another one of those nicknames he liked to call Lovino. Romano would usually yell at Antonio for such a nickname, but at the moment was so tired, and relaxed, he couldn’t find the easy will to do it… His hazel eyes dropped with weariness, and soon slid closed, finally allowing sleep to take over his body, with the aid of his Antonio. Yes, his Antonio, he was all his now…
Chapter One: Unexpected Fate
(Three months later)
“Damnitt Antonio!”
That was a phrase Spain was well used to hearing around the household, an angry Italian calling of his name. Usually when his little charge was upset, for some small reason or another. And lately, the yelling just became more and more frequent, like Lovino had an even shorter fuse than usual. Though Antonio was quiet used to it really, and actually came to love hearing the sound. Sure, Romano seemed to yell and hit often, unlike his brother who was sweet as honey, but Antonio wouldn’t want Romano to act like Feliciano for the world. Antonio liked his insulting Romano, angry Romano, and beautifully stubborn Romano. And all of his cute little ways of showing he really did care. Ah yes, Antonio did love his little lovers way of thinking, however violent, and loud, it could be. Yes, he was used to hearing this violent tone. But, today it was different. It was less violent and more… scared. It was desperate.
This, naturally, worried Spain beyond all belief and was quick to drop what he was doing (thank god he didn’t really drop it, considering he was holding a knife and chopping tomatoes) before running up the stairs, following his Romano’s voice to one of the bathrooms they had in the upstairs of the home. He was partially expecting to see Romano sprawled out on the tile floor, a sight he would never want to see. But rather, he saw the pale Italian leaning over the toilet, looking paler than normal, and throwing up everything he had in him.
“L-Lovi?” Antonio stuttered in surprise at the sight of the younger being sick. The sound seemed to only cause Romano to shudder as chills sneaked down his spine and he choked out past a cough,
“A-Antonio! It hurts! Make it stop!” He begged, shuddering from the pain and leaning over to empty his stomach again, though there was nothing left to empty, so it ended in dry heaves. Antonio knew it had to be bad, for Romano never, ever begged unless absolutely necessary of him. Spain quickly sunk to the floor next to the Italian, rubbing circles in his back like it would help the pain, or get him over it sooner. Lovino hacked again, this time emptying the last, which turned to be sour, yellow bile. The moment the pain was gone Romano fell back into the waiting arms of Spain, Romano curling against his chest with a shudder. Antonio stifled a pained sob at the sight, which only got a confused grunt from the Italian. Romano grabbed a fistful of Antonio’s shirt to look up at his tearful face, saying,
“Why the fuck are you crying? You weren’t the one throwing his guts up two seconds ago.” He pointed out bitterly.
“…Oh Lovi, it’s just…” Spain trailed, as if unable to finish his statement, though he was sure he had to, “You were in so much pain, and you asked me to stop it, but… I couldn’t help you… and… oh Dios…” Spain whispered, shaking his head slightly. Lovino watched in vague interest as Antonio wallowed in his melancholy sadness. He sighed and leaned his head against Spain’s chest, resting in the warmth for a brief second, the only place he really felt safe. Eventually though, he spoke,
“Hn, it’s been happening for a while now, actually…” He admitted, earning a soft gasp from the Spaniard.
“Lovi! Why didn’t you tell me? You could be really sick!” Antonio cried, blowing it much out of proportion like he was so good at doing. Romano ignored him and continued,
“To make it worse I’m fucking getting fat.” He said bitterly, this time earning a confused look from Antonio, and another annoyed scowl from Lovino. “Don’t play dumb! You’ve noticed, you bastard!” He spat bitterly. And as if to prove his point, he raised his free hand to flatten the loose white dress shirt he wore tight against his body, the cotton forming against his skin. And it showed around his mid-section. A bump. Spain chuckled,
“Lovi-“
“Shut the hell up, damnit!” Romano cut him off, obviously getting more and more self annoyed. Despite his earlier vomiting, he forced himself to his feet and turned to the door. “I’m going to bed.” And with that, he left, stomping out the door, his footsteps fading and soon disappearing into their bedroom with the slam of a door.
Antonio stared after him for a moment, thinking about all that just happened. Really, the only thing he was concerned about was how his Lovi had been getting so horribly sick for so long and he just now knew about it! It worried him greatly that his little Lovi may be so horribly sick… And though he really didn't think his Romano was getting fat, he had to admit it was odd of the health consious boy to gain weight like that. What if it was tumor? Maybe he should call the doctor, just in case. The thought of professional help calmed his nerves a little as he walked into the hall and grabbed the house phone, dialing up the doctor’s number. He waiting through the ringing patiently as he could manage while worrying about his Romano, before he eventually got a ‘hello’ and ‘how may I help you?’ from the other end of the phone.
“Ah, buenos tardes.” He returned their greeting in a less than his normally cheerful manner, “My wedded is sick, and I was worried, so I was wondering if…” He trailed, hoping they could fill in the blanks. He wasn’t used to this; he could only remember Romano being sick one time before, when he had cholera as a kid. But Spain had known what it was and could treat it himself at home. While now… he was clueless.
“Ah, of course, sure. Symptoms, please?” She woman’s voice questioned back. Spain swallowed the lump in his throat and replied,
“Well… there’s vomiting for one, until the point where they throw up bile. Oh, and a bit of weight gain around the abdomen… Oh, and sleeping more than usual, and eating more as well, though it all seems a bit impulsive.” Antonio read off, trying to remember just every odd thing Romano has been doing lately. There was a pause on the other end, and Antonio waited, thinking to himself that they’ll figure it out, and then everything will be right with his little Lovi. Si, si, that was it. The thought comforted him greatly.
“Ah… well, I believe I know what it is, but maybe you should come in to be sure.” The woman said which gave Antonio a sinking feeling in his stomach. Come in? That meant something had to be wrong!
“Oh, what is it?” Spain asked, worry evident in his tone.
“Well… congratulations.” She said, though her only response was confused silence, so she continued, “Well… your patient, I assume, is a few months pregnant. Congratulations, sir, you’re a father.”
“… Padre…” Spain repeated. And the phone fell from his hand as his grip went slack.
===
“What the hell are we doing here? I told you, I’m not fucking sick!” Romano snapped bitterly from his high seat on the cot in the doctors room.The sterile paper under him crickled loudly as he shifted his position once again, though weither he did this from annoyance or nervousness Antonio wasn’t sure. Though he was positive of this: Romano wasn’t nearly as nervous as he was right now. What if that woman was right and Romano was pregnant? Oh, he’d actually love that! He’d love to have a child, but… Poor, unsuspecting Romano, he had no idea of his fate. What if he didn’t want the child? What if he wanted to.. .be rid of it? The thought bothered the Catholic nation, as he shifted again in his lower seat in the corner of the doctors office. But… if Lovino didn’t want to be a parent, how could Antonio force him to do it?
The doctor had left a while ago after his testing, and it was a good thing to, for Lovino had gotten so annoyed with his probing, testing, and questions Spain thought he might kill him on the spot. Ecpecialy when it came to the question about his sex habits. Luckily that didn’t happen, and now the two sat waiting for the man to come back and tell them what was wrong with the Italian. The man was Spain’s favorite doctor, and he was well aware that Romano and Antonio were nations, and thus their body seemed to work a bit diffrently then most. Which was why when Spain told him what the nurse said might be wrong with his Lovi, about the pregnancy thing, that the man didn’t call him crazy, or want to take Lovino into somesort of freak testing. Because he knew how different Nations were to normal people. For nations… maybe the boy could have a child? Though Antonio had to wonder this: He and Lovino have had sex before their honeymoon, so why did he get pregnant then? Why now? He could only dwell on this as he waited for the doctors return, listening to Romano curse and complain about being here the entire time.
“Excuse me?” Antonio and Romano turned at the same time to the voice, seeing the doctor, all clad in his white standing in the room once again. He held his clipboard at his hip as he looked between the two, keeping a professional air about him, from his black shoes to his beginning to gray hair. Spain spoke first:
“Is he?” He asked, earnnig another protest from Romano. The entire time Lovino had felt so left out, because they were talknig about something he wasn’t aware of, something about him. The doctor nodded briefly to Spain, who’s face grew into thought at the aproval. This only worried Romano more, this time past anger and annoyance, nearing panick.
“Wh-what? Antonio, am I going to die?” He asked, his hands tightening into fists. Surely fate would be that cruel to him, it always was… Antonio looked over at Romano and half smiled, watching him for a moment. There was really no point in hiding it, or trying to cover it up… He miswell just come out and say it, right? Antonio stood up and placed both hands at the frame of the door, liek a block, in case Romano tried to run. And, with this thought, Antonio cleared his throat and said,
“…Romano, you’re pregnant.”
Spain truly expected Romano to hit him. Or at the very least, yell at him for saying such a thing. But instead, he got no response. Maybe he didn’t believe him? Well, at least since there was no yelling that was a good thing, right? Well, maybe not, maybe he just didn’t wrap his mind around it yet. Spain really wasn’t sure, but the silence was starting to bother him, making him nervous. But eventually there was a pathetic whimper from Romano’s position,
“…I can’t be.” He said quietly, though Antonio was still glad for the lack of yelling, “I just can’t.” He seemed so beaten down about it, Antonio thought sadly. He cleared his throat again, a habit of his when nervous, and said,
“Lovi, if you don’t want it I-“ Can kill an innocent child, “-can take you to a clinic, and-“ Spain cut off as a leather shoe smacked him right in the nose, though it wasn’t done with much true force or intent behind it. The black shoe clattered to the ground and Antonio looked in mock surprise to Romano, who was now convinietly missing one shoe, and noticed the tears shining in the artificial light.
“No! It’s my child…” He replied in a mix of a stubborn air, and disbelief that Spain would even offer such a thing. Antonio, on the other hand, was just surprised. His Lovi was pregnant, believed him about it, and he wanted to keep the child?
“Lovi? Are you sure?” He asked again. He wanted to be positive of this, so Romano didn’t get second thoughts of it. Lovino glared and nodded,
“It’s my child.” He repeated firmly. He laid back and ran a hand over the small little bumb in his abdomen, now apperaring unsure of himself, but still firm about the decision. Antonio’s gaze quickly changed to one of a full blown happiness, grin included, before he tackled the unsuspecting Italian in a tight hug around the chest, pinning his arms to his sides. He lifted himself up onto the cot next to Romano, all the while holding the hug.
“Oh Lovi! I’m going to be a padre!” He said happily, not desiring to let Romano go from his tight grip. Romano, of course, protested to be let go at first, but soon his protests dulled to less and less, and soon died off completely and allowed himself to be held. Antonio traced the palm of his hand across the small bump in his lovers stomach, thinking how interesting it was, that their child was right there. A miracle it was, to him at least. “… And you’l be a madre.” He whispered quietly as he cudled against the Italian. If he had it this way he would stay like this forever, just holding his Romano tightly against him. But, nothing can be forever.
“…Excuse me?” Spain looked back as the doctor interupted again, this time a new expression on his face, a little more grim, and heavy hearted. This worried Antonio to the point where he released Romano to turn and face the man, though he still sat up on the cot next to Romano. With their attention gained, the man continued, “Well… being a Nation it is all well possible that Lovino get pregnant, yes, for a male Nations body we have discovered carries both of the sex cells. Just that the males have very few eggs and rather more sperm, so this is still a rare happening.” He began to explain, Antonio nodding in understanding. “We don’t know why this is, why male nations are like this, but we suppose it is just part of creating new bodies to represent nations from old and so on.” The man must have realized he was rambling at this point, for he soon cleared his throat and cotninued to the chase, “…But, he is still male. Which means his hips aren’t made for giving birth, no, they’re just a bit too narrow.” Antonio felt his stomach sink to his knees at that statement, but managed to keep his mouth shut while the man explained. “He’ll have to have a c-section to have the child. And, with all surgery, there are many… complications that could happen.” If it was possible, Antonio’s gut just twisted farther. He wrapped an arm around Romano’s waist and pulled the Italian a bit closer, who for once, didn’t protest.
“…Like what, sir?” Spain spoke, tone quiet, nervous. He was worried about his poor Lovi’s fate because of this.
“Well…” The doctor sighed, “After the surgery he won’t be aloud to lift much of any weight for a few weeks, or the stiching may rip and cause bleeding that will be hard to fix, and will require more major surgery.” He started, “There’s also the possibilty that he could be allergic to the anestesia we use. And of course risk of infection, as with any surgery wound. Then there could be complications with the child itself.” The doctor didn’t look away from the two the whole time, being truthfull about it all. He wasn’t going to sugar coat it, they knew that much. “Then, in the worst case senerio, there’s a possibility that… only one of the two will be kept alive.” He said, leaving a grim hanging in the air. “It’s possible that either the mother or the child may have to die, lest they both die.”
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