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Once again, the heavens had been opened up, and the former Roman Empire was allowed to return to Earth for a short period of time. He worked hard for the rare times he got the chance to pay these little visits, and Rome wasted no time in making his way to his adorable grandson's house. Last time, he had been with that friend of his ("Such a saint," Rome thought with great admiration), but Rome knew he would be able to find him in his own abode that evening.
Rome was filled with nothing but excitement as he made his way from Heaven to his grandson's home in Venice, his descent occurring as quickly as he could will it. He wanted nothing more than to check up on the sweet, angelic like boy he loved more than anything.
Once he arrived outside Italy's home, he swiftly pushed open the front door and looked around for the boy, letting out a cry of, "Italy!" and diving toward Italy in a hug when he finally spotted him.
"G-Grandpa Rome?!" The boy struggled against his grip, flushing furiously. That wasn't the Italy he knew...
"Romano?" It finally clicked that this was the entirely wrong Italy, but that didn't stop Grandpa Rome from hugging the life out of him anyway. "Oooh, how much you've grown!" He hugged Romano again, patting him on the back.
"Veneziano is in the kitchen," Romano mumbled, still attempting to pull himself away from his grandfather. His words, rather than his actions, seemed to do the trick, and a deep knot of hurt settled into Romano's chest. As soon as Rome heard of Veneziano's whereabouts, he discarded Romano (at least it felt as if that was what he was doing) and ran off to find his favoured grandson.
"Ooh~ Italy~!" Rome called out, running into the kitchen and leaving Romano further behind.
"Grandpa Rome!" came the surprised, gleeful reply shortly after Rome made his appearance. "Grandpa Rome, Grandpa Rome~! I've missed you!"
"I missed you too, my sweet little Italy!" Romano walked into the kitchen and awkwardly stood in the doorway, watching as the two hugged and clung to one another, as kisses were planted on Veneziano's cheeks, as Veneziano was cooed over and cuddled. The affectionate embrace did not cease, even when Rome noticed Romano standing nearby. He just waved at the older brother and continued his coddling of Veneziano.
"Romano didn't tell me how cute you've gotten~," Rome said, ruffling Veneziano's hair.
"Oh, should I have?" Romano grumbled. A deep seated loneliness he thought was long gone returned to him as he looked at his younger brother and their grandfather. It had always been like that, back when they were children, when Rome was still around. Even though Romano and Veneziano were brothers, both grandchildren of the Roman Empire, Rome had always favoured Veneziano over Romano. When he'd gone away from their house, he'd taken the younger boy with him, leaving Romano behind. Romano's own family didn't even love him, and his eyes stung just thinking about it. "That's all I'm good for, is it? To tell you how Veneziano is doing?"
Rome chuckled, not bothering to look over at Romano, completely oblivious to the tears welling up in the older boy's eyes. "Of course not--"
"It's true!" Romano's voice was starting to take on a nearly hysterical tone. "You never cared about me, and you still don't! You just love Veneziano, everyone loves Veneziano. Even you can't remember that there are two of us!"
"Now Romano--"
"Brother--"
"No!" Romano stomped his foot, causing a small tremor to go through the floor below. "Whatever, I don't care, fuck you, I'm leaving. Have fun catching up, asshole."
With that, Romano stormed off in tears, ignoring his younger brother's cry of, "Ah, Brother--!" in favour of slamming the front door behind him as he left.
Grandpa Rome looked off in the direction of the doorway, where Romano had stood only moments before, a confused look on his face. "I wonder what that was about?" He shrugged and furrowed his brow ever so slightly, hugging Veneziano again. "He always was so much grumpier than you."
"Ah, Grandpa Rome." Veneziano frowned slightly, pulling away from his beloved grandfather. "You should go after Brother, you've hurt his feelings again."
Before Rome had a chance to ask for clarification (and he didn't really need it anyway, he knew what he had done, why Romano was so upset, but even the Great Roman Empire fucked up and he knew that all to well from experience after painful experience), Veneziano was pushing him out of the kitchen. "Ve ~, you should listen to him. Romano needs to be loved too." He paused for a moment, an oddly thoughtful expression on his cheerful face. "Romano needs love especially, Grandpa Rome."
Rome nodded and smiled at his beloved grandson (one of them, anyway, and he really needed to show Romano that before he had to go back). "I'll set it right, don't you worry." And so he set out to track down Romano, all his pride and fighting spirit stepping aside to give the much needed apologies a chance to shine for once.
---
Spain was absolutely furious. It had been many a year since he'd been at the height of his violent glory, since the endless years of wars he seemed to be a part of, and Spain was now typically seen with a sunshiny smile and a carefree attitude, but one look at him at that moment would have brought back quite a few memories of darker years.
The scowl softened when another sob from the young country in his arms drifted into his ears. "Shh, Lovi, it's okay."
"No, it's not!" Romano yelled, clinging to Spain in a way he never had before, and oh how it both broke Spain's heart and fuelled the ever growing anger inside of him.
Romano had shown up at his home earlier, out of breath from running, tears streaking down his cheeks, muttering curse after incomprehensible curse. It had taken Spain far longer than he would have liked to calm Romano down enough to get the story of what had happened out of him, and that had only ended in Romano breaking down into a fresh onslaught of tears.
He didn't care if the ancient country was already dead, Spain was going to wring Rome's neck. Romano didn't deserve this at all, especially from his own family.
"Just calm down." He rubbed Romano's back, as he had been doing since the two of them had moved to Spain's couch, whispering comforting words in his native tongue. "Vale, esta bien."
After a few more minutes, Romano let out a shuddering breath and disentangled himself from Spain's embrace, moving to sit further away from him on the couch. Spain leaned over, kissing Romano's forehead, before standing up and stretching out his legs. "I'll make you some pasta, okay?"
Romano wiped at his eyes, refusing to meet Spain's worried gaze. "Don't screw it up this time, bastard," he responded in a half-hearted manner. "And you better use fresh tomatoes."
Spain grinned slightly. At least Romano wasn't crying anymore. "Of course, what else would I use?" A knock on the door interrupted Spain on his way to the kitchen, and he frowned, glancing over at Romano before going to answer his door.
"Now is not really a good..." He trailed off when he saw who was standing in his doorway and the pent up fury he'd been feeling since Romano had shown up on that very spot could no longer be contained. A thunderous crack resounded through the air as his fist connected with Rome's face.
"Whoa, kid, calm down."
"Fuck off."
They stood there for what seemed like an eternity. Rome's shocked look soon faded into a stern, authoritative scowl as he looked down at Spain, and Spain glared right back with a fiery, passionate anger few things could bring about in him.
"Spain," Rome said, breaking the silence. "I'm safe in assuming you know who I am."
"Then you should also be safe in assuming I'm not letting you through this door."
The stand off continued, Spain splaying his arms across the doorway, further blocking Rome's entrance, Rome pompously thinking the other would back down from fear of his wrath eventually.
It didn't happen, of course. Spain was willing to do more than just glare to protect his Romano.
Before it could get to that point (and Spain was fairly certain it would, though Rome never actually intended to harm the man so stubbornly defending his grandson), Romano appeared behind Spain.
"Spain, you bastard, just let him in."
Both Spain and Rome's eyes immediately shot over to Romano, standing just behind Spain's shoulder, arms crossed defensively over his chest. When Spain made no move to let Rome pass, Romano rolled his eyes.
"Yes, you're very heroic, I'll thank you later."
"But, Lovi--"
"I'll handle it."
Rome let out a sigh of relief when Spain finally relented ("Those two are so xxx and xxxxxx when nobody else is around," he thought, before deciding it was best not to voice his thoughts aloud for once.)
Spain gave Rome one last disdainful look before he stalked off into the kitchen, where he would no doubt listen for anymore signs of distress from Romano.
Rome stood before Romano, feeling not at all like the representation of the greatest empire to ever exist, but entirely like a loved one in the wrong-- extremely small, despite how he towered over his grandson.
"I'm so--"
"Whatever," Romano mumbled, looking anywhere but at Rome. "Everybody likes Veneziano more. I'm used to it by now."
"That's not true." Rome stepped forward and placed a hand on Romano's shoulder. "I've done things I can never make up for, Romano. I haven't treated you fairly, and for that I am honestly sorry." Smiling, Rome pulled Romano into a hug. "I do love you, Romano, and I'm sorry I thought you didn't need me to show that." It was no excuse, but Rome had always assumed because of Romano's outwardly "tough guy" appearance that he wouldn't be as open to the affection he so willingly bestowed upon Veneziano. Obviously, he'd been wrong.
Romano fidgeted where he stood. How long had he wanted his grandfather to say that? How long had he been in Veneziano's shadow, desperately wanting everyone to like him just as much, and yet, "...You didn't even intend to visit me this time."
Rome shook his head, he deserved Romano's mistrust. "I'm glad I got to see you, though. I really am. You've grown into a fine young man." The embrace tightened. "You really have, I'm so proud of you."
Romano sniffled, hiding his face in Rome's chest for a brief moment before pushing him away. "Whatever, bastard, no need to get all sappy."
Of course, Rome was more than used to Romano's abrasive behaviour, and he just ruffled the boy's hair. "Just don't you forget it, alright? Who knows when God will let me come visit you boys again."
"Yeah, whatever, I know," Romano replied huffily, though his tone was noticeably less despondent than it had been before Rome arrived.
"Besides, you don't need me around to remind you that others actually care about you." Rome found himself locked in a staring contest with Spain once again, but this time for an entirely different reason. His smiling eyes were a stark contrast to the defensive green ones looking back at him, but he'd never been so glad to be glared at. He knew his grandson was in good hands.
(Even if he highly suspected some xx and xxxxxxx, with a side of xxxx was going to go down the minute he left. Ah, the joys of youth.)
His less than chaste thoughts aside, Rome kissed Romano on both cheeks, then did the same to Spain. "Goodbye, you two, it was a pleasure seeing you."
With that, Rome once again disappeared, his heart a bit lighter knowing he'd done his best to make up with Romano, and Romano for once honestly knowing his grandfather cared about him.
"Are you okay no--" Spain's well-meaning, yet entirely moment ruining, question was cut off when Romano grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him into a surprising kiss. "Wha--"
"Just shut up, I said I'd thank you, didn't I?"
Spain grinned widely and let out an undignified joyful noise akin to a squeal, and Romano sent a, "Why me?" look up at the sky before pulling the idiot off to his bedroom.