Epilogue

Spain had fallen asleep with his head on a pillow on Romano's lap. Romano caressed his curls and lowered the volume on the tv.

"I'm not asleep," said Spain and turned to look up at Romano.

"Good. It's not even halfway through the movie, and America said there was a robot fight near the end," said Romano.

"Heh, America's movies are weird."

"I thought you would like it."

"I like the ones Roma likes," said Spain wrapping his arms around Romano.

"Liar. You always fall asleep with my movies."

"Hmmm, yes, but I like that too. And when I wake up at the end I had a siesta next to you and you're always smiling."

Romano poked his cheek. "Idiot~," he said.

Spain laughed and rubbed his face against Romano's stomach. Romano laughed and stood up to throw him off his lap.

"No! Don't tickle me bastard!" He yelled, his face completely red. Spain writhed on the floor, still smiling like a fool. A fool in love.

"I wanna see my Roma smile!" He whined.

Romano huffed and turned off the tv. "Shut up. Let's have dinner. I didn't like the movie either," he said and went to the kitchen.

He was starting to understand that there were a bunch of things Spain didn't like, but he liked doing them anyway. Like drinking Romano's coffee and complaining that it was too strong. If Romano didn't make coffee, he simply shifted the conversation to complain about how Romano hadn't made coffee that morning.

Spain opened a bottle of wine France had sent them. Apology wine, he called them, and said that they were worth the trip to the hospital and his cracked ribs.

"Yay, this is gonna be delicious~," he said, pouring a glass for both of them while Romano served the lasagna.

"I can't believe you just fight like that. And then send each other wine or whatever an it's alright with you," he said, and sat across from Spain. There were many things he didn't know about Spain. Many things he kept hidden, mostly humiliating defeats.

Spain shrugged. "That's what we used to do in the old days. I guess the habit stuck."

"Some stupid fucking habits you two have," said Romano.

His phone rang, and he answered when he saw it was a message from Feliciano. He had sent Romano a photo of Germany and him at the beach with the note "You can use the house while we're gone."

"Ugh, what a way of ruining my dinner," said Romano and passed the phone to Spain.

"Aww, they're so cute together," he said. "Tell hm to take lots of pictures for us."

"I don't want to see any of their disgusting photos. I want that potato bastard to keep his hands off Feliciano."

"They're happy together."

Romano pursed his lips. "Spain, I want you to tell me something."

"Uh? What?"

"What did you do to resurrect him?"

"Eeh? What are you talking about?" Asked Spain, but he had paled, and refused to look Romano in the eyes.

"Don't lie. I saw you and Prussia the night he brought Holy Rome's body to the house with him."

"I locked you in your room," said Spain, his expression suddenly tired.

"I climbed the vines outside the window and sneaked in to the kitchen. Now I wish I hadn't, but it doesn't help to regret it now, does it?"

"No. It doesn't. Roma I don't want to talk about it now," he said, and drank the rest of his wine.

Romano didn't press the matter.

That night, long after they had turned off the lights, and laid in bed together, Spain moved to lay on his side and stare at Romano's closed eyes.

"I know you're not asleep," he said.

Romano opened his eyes. "Bastard," he whispered, and turned to glare at Spain in the darkness.

"If I never told you what we did, would you be ok with that?" asked Spain.

Romano thought about it. "No. I would start nagging you in a decade or so, now that I don't have to pretend like I didn't see anything."

Spain laughed and placed soft kisses down the side of Romano's face. "You're such a brat. But…I'm happy you never told anything to your brother."

"He fucking loved Holy Rome. I'll never forgive that bastard for dying," said Romano, and couldn't bring himself to tell Spain that he would never forgive him for dying either.

"That was why I decided to help Prussia that night. Prussia loved him, Italy loved him, even France who had dealt the last blow –He stole away the body before anyone could stop him. They loved him for who he was, not because he was the embodiment of the Holy Roman Empire. I thought that, even if the empire was over, he could still live somehow. I knew that if it had been you Roma, I would also have tried anything to bring you back."

"Don't say that," said Romano, pulling him closer, wanting to feel Spain's skin with his own hands and forget the sight of that cold dead body on Prussia's arms.

"I had never seen one of us dead. As far as I knew when we died we just well, die…France used to say that he had a tomb carefully dug into the ground for him to walk into when he felt the end approaching. I knew we had to bury him, but…," Spain seemed lost in his memories. "We used blood. Of course we did. We couldn't think of anything better. Prussia's blood at first, and when that didn't work, Prussia went off to get some of his other brothers. Who knows what they told him? I stayed with the body for two days and the feeling of death coming off it nearly drove me insane. Some nights I still have nightmares about it."

"So the blood worked."

"Probably. Prussia also tried holy water, and prayed incessantly in all the languages he knew. He apologized everything that he had done in the holy land, for all the people he killed, vowed to fulfill any duties that king or god demanded of him. I can't even remember right now. It all just…blurs in my mind to a mess of blood, and praying, and the feeling of death always whispering to me, trying to drag me away from the world. That is all I can tell you. That we tried everything we could come up with, and somehow it worked. That, and that I would do it all over again, if-"

"No, don't say that," said Romano, and kissed him into silence.

In the tiny, blissful eternity of kisses, death couldn't reach you.

A/N: Thank you for reading, and if you liked this fic, please consider leaving kudos or a comment. That would totally make my day.

To be honest, I just wrote this because I wanted a fic where Spain and Prussia traveled in a volkswagen van with a goat.