[FIC] Truth Be Told, Chapter Seven

[karuka-ikashi.livejournal.com]

Title: Truth Be Told
Chapter: Seven
Pairing: Spain/Romano
Also appearing in this chapter: England, America, France, Veneziano, and Germany
Rated: T
Genre: Comedy/Romance with a bit of Angst...yum
Summary: The Well of Uncomfortable Truths is discovered and deals Spain a hard fact: “Whenever you said you loved him, you didn’t really mean it. You were thinking of his brother. They were empty words.” But who was it talking about? And will Romano be convinced?

Done for this request:
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/17337.html?thread=50721465#t50721465
 

England sat in his seat at the World Summit miserably, watching the other nations around him chat with each other as they all awaited the start of the meeting. He had been there the earliest of them all and not a single person had spoken with him so far. Everyone was occupied with someone else, someone who was not him. Normally it wouldn't have bothered the Briton. There really was only one person he cared to talk to, but that person had been babbling away to Japan nonstop since the moment he had arrived.

"-but you have to admit, even if Godzilla is big enough to match King Kong, and he's got some killer claws and everything, but he's still a lizard, and lizards are cold-blooded so there's no way he'd win a fight if they took it to the arctic or someplace with a lot of snow…"

England just sighed and shook his head. Why did he care so much? It's not like the boy had given him a lot of attention lately. He seemed pretty determined to ignore England at times or at least act superior to him. It certainly got on the other man's nerves when his former colony showed him so much disrespect. America, you can be so arrogant sometimes…

What had happened to the days when the younger blonde had admired him? When he had been the big strong one? Was England just not "cool" enough to hang around anymore? America seemed content to spend lots of time with Japan, who was also a much older nation, and England felt as if he had somehow lost touch with the boy ever since those two had become friends. Well, I may not be as interested in robots or video games…but I am still important to you, aren't I?

He was so distracted by the American that he didn't notice someone come creeping up behind him. The assailant took advantage of the Briton's guard being down and grabbed him by the shoulders, startling England so much that he nearly jumped out of his seat.

"Wh-what the-? What the bloody hell did you do that for, you lout? "

"Haha, relax, Angleterre," France laughed. "I was only testing your awareness."

"Like hell you were! You just love getting a rise out of me every chance you get!"

"Someone seems crabbier than usual. Something bothering you, mon ami?"

"That's none of your business, frog! Now leave me alone!"

England crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. France appeared to back off, but casually walked over to the other man's side and sat down next to him instead. He followed the Englishman's gaze and found its target, much to England's embarrassment.

"Ah, so it's petite Amérique that has your attention right now. Or rather…you don't have his."

"S-shut your mouth!" England cried, a little too loudly. Some of the other nations turned to look at him for a moment before returning to their own conversations. The blonde man flushed red. "Why do you always have to stick your nose in everything?" he muttered.

"I'd be more than willing to help, if you would tell me what's troubling you about him."

"N-nothing is! Stop trying to read me, bastard! It's…it's not fair!"

France raised an eyebrow at him, and England turned away from him sulkily. The Frenchman smiled at him and returned a hand to his shoulder as the other man flinched.

"It's difficult not to see what's bothering you when you make such a display out of it," he grinned. "I really am the best person to come to when one is having…relationship trouble."

The Briton bristled.

"You haven't a bloody clue what you're talking about! You're the last person I'd seek advice from for absolutely anything, so just piss off and LEAVE ME ALONE."

France frowned at him in distaste.

"Not much of a gentleman when you're lovesick, are you? Very well…but just remember- when all else fails, I can still be the last person you turn to."

With that, he winked and departed, leaving the other man to grit his teeth and shoot deathly glares at his back.

On the other side of the room, Romano was sitting next to his brother, who was chatting happily away with Germany, much to the older Italian's dismay. He ignored their conversation for the most part, eyes traveling around the conference room and finally settling on a miserable-looking country not too far from him. Romano gritted his teeth as Spain crossed the room and came up to him.

"Romano! Mi amor, please listen to me!" he begged. "I know you're still upset about before, but please don't shut me out!"

Germany and Veneziano stopped talking to stare at the Spaniard. Romano could feel his face going red with embarrassment and anger at the other man. He wouldn`t give in, though. He wasn`t about to let his ex-lover humiliate him by causing a scene. As much as he wanted to yell at Spain and take out some of his frustration on him, he wouldn`t do it. He glared at the other man, rose steadily to his feet, and did what Italians did best- retreated.

"Romanooo! " Spain cried as the man he was trying to talk to fled out of the room at lightening speed.

Immediately, Spain prepared to give chase, but he was suddenly jerked back as France caught a hold of his good arm.

"Wait, Espagne, " his friend told him."You must be patient. Romano will listen to you when he is ready. "

Spain whimpered pathetically and pulled his arm away as he looked at the blonde. "I know, it`s just…I miss him so much."

France gave the man a sympathetic frown, and Veneziano went even more water-eyed than Spain himself was getting.

"Wah! Spain-niichan! I hate to see you so sad! "

Germany just shook his head. "It can`t be helped when you consider who he`s

dealing with. I`ve never met anyone more stubborn than your brother….except maybe mine. "

France looked at the German, his interest peeked. "Have you seen any sign of Prusse? " he asked eagerly.

Germany shook his head tiredly. "Nothing. I was up all night looking for him, but there`s absolutely no sign of him anywhere. I haven`t the faintest clue where he could have gone that I haven`t checked already."

France frowned at him. "Then he really is untraceable. Oh, Prusse, where could you have gone? My birthday celebration is tomorrow...Espagne, we have to find him!"

But Spain was too distracted to pay much attention. He kept gazing longingly at the door that Romano had run out of. France`s expression turned to annoyance as he tried to get his friend to share at least a shred of his concern.

"Espana! " he called, hoping that Spain`s native language would snap him back to what was going on around him. The Spaniard jumped slightly and glanced at him sheepishly.

"Oh, I`m sorry, Francia. What were you saying? "

"Our friend is missing," the blonde said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "A member of our trio may be in trouble, and we need to find him soon."

Spain sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"I know, Francia, and I really wish there was something we could do but- where else are we supposed to look? We were out for a long time searching too."

"You shouldn't worry about him too much," Germany put in. "Bruder may be reckless…but he can take care of himself. I have faith that he`ll come back soon."

Spain nodded with a slightly relieved expression on his face. France also looked a bit calmer but not completely convinced. Prussia was, after all, not a true nation anymore. Was it possible that he could fade out of existence? The Frenchman refused to believe he was worrying too much, and it bothered him that he was the only one who seemed to really care.

"Ne, Spain-niichan…maybe I can try talking to Romano-niichan for you," Italy said. "I know he may not show it, but I think something about him's changed since the bullfight."

Spain perked up at that, his interest moved completely to the Italian.

"R-really? Do you think he may forgive me soon?"

"I hope so," Veneziano replied. "He's been sulking a bit less…but he still won't talk about you. I don't know what I can do."

France grunted jealously and tried to regain his friend's attention.

"I told you, Espagne, you need to be patient! Have some faith in my plan, will you…"

Spain turned to the Frenchman apologetically.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but you can't blame me for being impatient, right? If Romano forgives me sooner, I won't have to-"

"SHUSH!" France hissed. "You must keep it a secret, mon ami. Don't tell anyone!"

"Oh…okay," Spain responded, a little taken aback.

"Which reminds me. Italie," France said, turning to Veneziano, "I do have a way you can help Espagne."

"Yes?" the other responded eagerly. "What is it?"

"Convince your brother to join us at my birthday celebration, of course. I extended the invitation to him earlier but was quite rudely rejected."

Veneziano frowned.

"Niichan won't go to France-niichan's house? Well, I don' know how, but…I'll do my best to change his mind!"

"Excellent," France said with a smile, though he seemed to be keeping something to himself.

Veneziano beamed at him and excused himself quickly, running off in the direction Romano had gone. Spain watched him and turned his gaze back on France anxiously.

"Do you really think Romano will come? You two haven't exactly gotten along well in the past."

France put an arm around his friend's shoulders, a dismissive and amused look on his face.

"Do not worry about it, Espagne. I'm certain it will be a night of revel and…excitement. He's sure not to miss it."

Spain smiled, slightly reassured by this friend's confidence. He knew the Italian well, though, and it was no mystery to him of how stubborn he could be. Hopefully, his brother would be able to convince him to go somehow. Spain turned back to glance at the other nations dispersed throughout the conference room. His eyes landed on England, sitting dejectedly in a chair near the table. France followed his gaze and grinned. The Briton was shifting in his seat and looking generally uncomfortable, as if he was struggling with himself. He noticed France staring at him out of the corner of his eye and shot him a glare before turning away again. France looked amused, but Spain cocked his head, curiously.

"Is something wrong with England?"

France laughed.

"He and you are in very similar situations, mon ami."

"Oh really?" the Spaniard asked. "That's too bad. Do you think maybe we could use the same solution?"

France raised his eyebrows at that. Sometimes in his dense mind, Spain had a stroke of brilliance. He liked this idea very much.

"I will recommend it to him," he promised, "but only if he approaches me for help."

England didn't look like he had any intention of doing so, but Well, Spain thought, desperate times call for desperate measures. Their rough history prevented him and England from getting along well, but he still sympathized with and wished the man the best.

Veneziano rushed down the hall and caught up to his brother in the lobby where the older Italian was sitting on one of the armchairs in the lounge. He had his arms crossed and was glowering at the floor until he spotted Veneziano and turned his angry look in his direction instead.

"Niichan!"

"Ugh, what do you fucking want?" Romano groaned. "If this is about that tomato bastard, I'm not listening, dammit!"

"It's not, Niichan! I promise! This is about France-niichan!"

Romano gave him a disbelieving look that lasted for about five seconds before rising to his feet and walking towards the door.

"Niichan, waaait!" Veneziano cried, leaping at his brother and throwing his arms around him before he had the chance to escape.

"Gah! Let me go, idiot!" Romano growled, struggling in the younger Italian's grip.

"But you have to listen to me!" he whined. "Please go to France-niichan's party with me!"

"No...way…in…hell!" the other grunted, still trying to free himself.

Veneziano was stubborn, though. He held on unwaveringly and even used his weight to keep his brother from moving forward. Romano gritted his teeth in frustration and swung his head back in an attempt to hit Veneziano in the face, but his younger brother had learned from past experiences and expertly ducked behind Romano's shoulder on instinct.

"Please!" Veneziano begged. "It won't be the same without you, Niichan!"

Romano stopped struggling to glare back at him out of the corner of his eye.

"No one will care if I don't come, dammit. I don't want to go to that wine bastard's house!"

He was surprised when Veneziano loosened his grip suddenly and swung around in front of him so that the two were face to face and he was forced to look into those pathetic pleading eyes. What really threw him off, though, was that his younger brother's voice was strangely serious as he spoke- not whiny or loud, just quiet and…kinda sad, dammit.

"Don't say that, Niichan. I'll care. I want you there because…you're important to me. Please come!"

Romano gaped at him, dumbstruck. Why was he hesitating? He wasn't going to give into that puppy face! No fucking way! And yet…he still wasn't pushing him aside. The older Italian broke his gaze from Veneziano's expectant eyes and turned his head away, frowning.

"I'll…I'll think about it, dammit," he said finally.

"YAY!" Veneziano cheered and hugged him tightly again, much to his brother's protest.

Damn his weakness…Romano felt like he had been tricked. Well, at least he had made no promises. Just as long as he lets go of me, dammit.

Back in the conference room, America had finally stopped talking to Japan and had come over to where England was brooding. Spain was not far from him, slumped down in his seat, but he was too busy pretending to listen to France go on about how fabulous his party would be to pay attention to the younger blonde. America leaned over his former colonizer curiously as England glared at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey, Iggy! What's shakin'?"

The other man jumped a bit in surprise but looked back at America with a small frown.

"Nothing is 'shakin',' I assure you, except maybe for Latvia over there," England replied, pointing to the trembling nation across the room that was being towered over by Russia.

"You sure seem crabby today, old man," America smirked, unknowingly the second person to have made that comment about the Briton today. "I mean, more than usual."

England glared back at him.

"Who are you calling old? Just because you have less than half the experience I do as a nation doesn't mean you can go around pestering people about their age. I've better things to do than listen to your insults."

"Well, geez. If you wanted me to leave you alone, you should've just said so! You're no fun, Iggy!"

"Don't call me that, you brat! And I am plenty of fun, it's just…"

He stopped, as if suddenly unsure of what he was saying. America stared at him expectantly, but England just flushed red and turned away from him, irritated.

"Nevermind! I'm not having this conversation with you."

He crossed his arms, leaving America with a frown.

"What's wrong, Mr. UK?" the younger man asked, still teasing but with some concern in his voice too.

"Nothing, for goodness sake! Now leave me alone!"

"Heh. You gotta learn to lighten up, Iggy! No one's going to want to hang around you if you stay grumpy and boring!"

With that, he gave England a slap on the shoulder and went on his way. England scowled at him and was about to retort, but America was already back on the other side of the room, chatting it up with Japan again. Instead, the British man gritted his teeth and leaned forward over the table, resting his chin on his knuckles as he stared down sulkily.

"I'm…boring?" he murmured too quietly for anyone to hear.

He and Spain let out a sigh at the same time. France had left his friend's side and now watched the two from a distance, smiling to himself. The stage was set. This would surely be a party everyone would remember. He chuckled quietly to himself. Stop your worrying, mes amis. There is always help waiting for you if you look in the right places. Sooner or later you will realize…I am the solution to your woes.





_{A/N:*creeps out of the hiding place* Okay, so I owe you all a big apology. -_-; I didn't mean to slack off on this fic! I'm just easily distracted and a lot of stuff's been going on and I suddenly got sick and...yeah. Ask me for a list of excuses if that's really what you want. I have to admit, this chapter was less exciting for me to write since not a lot happens actionwise BUT...now we're all set up for the big scene. I'm looking forward to it; I know this has been long and coming, but hopefully the wait won't be much longer! Your comments really keep me going (even the nagging ones are great motivation), so please let me know what you think. Hmm, now do you think Romano's really going to go to that party? XD;}

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