A/N: I honestly don't know where this came from. Seriously, no idea. I think I was in the shower.

This fic includes fem!Romano. I thought it would fit better. Her name in this fic is Chiara, because I quite like it and that's one of the names on the wiki. Also, Davide is a variation of David, which means beloved. I thought it would suit him.

Disclaimer: I don't own these two cuties. I do, however, own Davide.

Chiara stared at the letter. Her hands began to shake. Her legs gave way and she slid to the floor with a thump.

No. No no no no no. This could not be happening. There must have been a mistake. Those bastards must have sent her the wrong letter. Yup, someone else was meant to get this letter. Someone else's life must be in shatters.

But no. There was her name in typed letters at the top of the page.

This couldn't be right. There was no way. That bastard promised they'd be together forever. Until the very end. They'd grow old and die together. It wasn't meant to end like this. The letter... The letter must be wrong!

'Dear Miss Chiara Vargas.

We are very sorry to inform you that your fiancé, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, is missing in action. His patrol was out when they were ambushed. We have so far found four bodies, all of whom had several gunshot wounds. It is unlikely that Second Lieutenant Fernandez Carriedo survived.

We are sorry for your loss.'

And that was it. All it took were a few words. A few words for a life to be ruined.

Tears ran down the Italians face. They dripped onto the paper, smudging the ink and ruining the paper.

How was she going to cope? Antonio was her rock, the person who always supported her, through thick and thin. He loved Chiara, and Chiara loved him back. Although she didn't show it much, Chiara truly cared for her fiancé.

Ex-fiancé now.

No. Antonio was alive. He had to be! Right? He would never leave Chiara alone! He promised!

"He promised..."

Chiara's hand moved to her stomach. She was going to tell him too. The day Antonio had left, Chiara was going to tell him the news that would change their lives. Antonio would be a father, and they would live as a happy family. Then the phone rang, and Chiara never got a chance to tell him.

She remembered it like it was yesterday.

"Antonio?"

"Si amore?" The Spaniard looked up from his newspaper. His green eyes twinkled in a way that only his fiancé ever saw.

Chiara gestured to the seat next to her, which Antonio took. The Lieutenant brought the smaller woman into his arms. She fit so perfectly, he never wanted to her let go.

The Italian looked into those green eyes.

"I have something to tell you."

"What is it Chia?"

Chiara opened her mouth. The words were going to come out, the words that would change both their lives for the better.

"I'm..."

They were interrupted by the telephone ringing. Antonio gently lowered his lover onto a pillow and went to answer it.

"Hello? Oh, good day Lieutenant Colonel Hughes. What do you want to talk to me about?... What? Can you repeat that?... When?... Tomorrow?! Alright... I'll be there. See you, goodbye." The Spanish man turned to face his Italian fiancé. His face was sombre; his mouth was turned down in a frown. Worst of all his eyes had stopped twinkling with happiness.

"What did Mr Hughes want Tonio?" She asked.

"Amore... I'm being shipped out tomorrow."

"To war?"

"Where else? I'll be on the front lines. Fighting for my people."

"But... You can't go!" She begged.

"I have to." He smiled at her, and her worries melted away. "For the greater good. I'll be back amore.

"I promise."

Chiara never did get round to telling Antonio.

And now, months later, she was getting a letter. Antonio was missing, presumed dead. She would never see her lover's green eyes again.

Some promise.

"It's just you and me now." Chiara sobbed, rubbing her slightly bloated stomach. "Just you and me."

The tear stained letter fluttered to the ground. Salty drops fell onto the linoleum. The broken Italian cried on the kitchen floor.

~oOo~

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was a happy man. Today, he would see his little Chiara again after five years!

The last few years had been tough. First, his patrol was ambushed. He had watched from under a bush as his comrades died in front of his eyes. One, Alfred, who had a husband and an adopted two year old son back home, stayed loyal to the very end. His death was the worst, for the two had bonded over their feisty lovers. The sight of this caring man with a family being murdered right in front of him made Antonio sick.

They had then found him and taken him hostage. They (he never did find out who they were. He and the others assumed they were terrorists) had fed him barely any meals and given him hardly any water. He was tortured.

Then, he had escaped. It had taken four years to perfect his plan. He, along with another captive, a Turkish man named Sadiq, had managed to escape with their lives. The rest, Elisabeta, Mathias and Jett, had not been so lucky.

The two had wandered around for months, desperately looking for a way to contact home, and the military. They finally found a military base and collapsed, only telling them their names before fainting.

After a whirlwind of events that left the Spaniard dizzy, he was finally back home.

Where he belonged.

He limped the familiar steps up to the front door. It looked exactly the same as it did five years ago, when he left. There a few subtle changes, however. Like the doorbell, that had once read 'Chiara and Antonio' now said 'the Vargas family'. But Antonio was so happy to be home, he didn't notice this. Instead he pressed the doorbell excitedly, not wanting to wait another second to see his little Chiara again.

Shouts came from inside the house. After a few minutes, the door was opened. Antonio looked straight ahead, knowing that Chiara would be there. It came as a bit of a shock to not see his Italian lover there.

"Hola! What do you want mister?" A cute little voice came from the doorway. Antonio looked down to see a small boy, only about four, that had curly chocolate brown hair, green eyes and a curl not unlike the one that Chiara used to have. Antonio stood, bewildered, until a familiar voice shouted from inside the house.

"DAVIDE ANTONIO VARGAS, I TOLD YOU NOT TO ANSWER THE DOOR!"

Footsteps could be heard stomping down a corridor. A new person came into view, one that Antonio had been wishing, waiting, wanting for five years.

"Chiara."

"Antonio?"

Chiara was shocked. Here he was, the man she had been waiting for, the man she saw in her dreams, the man she never thought she'd see again, here in the flesh.

The two stared at each other. Green eyes met hazel. Both pairs didn't believe that what they were seeing was real.

"Hey!" Davide piped up from Chiara's leg. "I know you! You're in those pictures mummy hides from me!" Chiara looked shocked.

"Davide! What have I told you about snooping through my drawers! If you do that again, Santa won't give you any presents this year!" The Italian woman chided. The boy looked distraught at the idea of such an awful thing.

"I won't do it again, I promise mummy!"

"Now, how about you run along and play? Peter will be here soon."

"Yay!" The little boy ran off as fast as his chubby legs could carry him.

"Amore... Is it really you?"

"That's the question I should be asking!" She exclaimed. "Bastard..."

Antonio chuckled.

"You haven't changed a bit I see."

"Shut up!"

"So... Can I come in?" he asked.

"Oh, erm... Sure."

Chiara led Antonio down the corridor, stepping over children's toys on the way. It hadn't changed much, except instead of pictures of him and Chiara on the walls, it was Chiara and Davide.

They made it to the kitchen. It too hadn't changed, except the walls were now decorated in child's drawings. One of them was a picture of what was obviously Chiara and Davide, hand in hand. There was a man too, one that looked like a bit like Antonio.

"I told him his father looked like him." Chiara had caught him staring. "He didn't quite get you right, but he was pretty close."

"He's going to be quite the artist."

"Got that from Feli." She stated.

"Nonsense amore, your drawings are much better than Feliciano's."

The Italian blushed. "Just sit down, bastard."

Antonio sat in the chair furthest away from the door, the one that he always used to sit in.

"Do you want a drink?"

"No Chia, I'm fine." He insisted.

Eventually, Chiara took the chair opposite Antonio, the chair that was always hers.

"So, Chia-"

"Davide's yours."

"What?" Antonio nearly fell off his chair.

"I know. I was going to tell you, the day before you left. We were sat down and I was ready to spill the beans then stupid Lieutenant Colonel Hughes had to call-"

"Hughes is dead, as is the rest of the patrol. You shouldn't disrespect the dead."

"I didn't know he was dead!" Chiara shouted. "I didn't care if he was dead or not! All I cared about was if you were dead! You were missing in action, presumed dead. I thought you had died! I went through Davide's birth, post natal depression, raising Davide all on my own! How do you think I felt? And I got no news of your return from that stupid bastard Colonel Mustang either! Then you turn up on my doorstep-"

"Our doorstep, Chia." Antonio interrupted.

"It hasn't been our doorstep for five years, Antonio!"

There was a slight pause.

"Can I at least tell my side of the story?"

"Quickly, bastard, before Arthur arrives with Peter."

"Arthur?"

"Just a friend. Now, on with your stupid story if you really have to tell it."

"Everyone was killed in front of me. I was taken hostage, and it took us four years to think of an escape plan."

"Us?"

"Me, Sadiq, Elisabeta, Mathias and Jett. Anyway, only Sadiq and I got out alive. Then we had to roam about the desert, looking for help. We eventually stumbled into a military base, gave our names then passed out. I was nursed back to health and shipped back home. Colonel Mustang knew nothing of it. It was General Armstrong that supervised my return."

"So... you wanted to come back?" Chiara whispered.

"Every day. I love you Chiara." He assured. "Always have, always will."

"Erm..." She blushed slightly. "I never got over you, bastard."

"You look like a little tomato when you blush!"

"Shut up!"

The doorbell rang, and little footsteps could be heard running to the door.

"DAVIDE! DON'T YOU DARE ANSWER THAT!" Chiara got up and dashed to the door. Antonio chuckled. His fiancé hadn't changed a bit.

He could hear the conversation from the kitchen.

"Hey Arthur, hello Peter. Do you want to come in?" Arthur and Peter. Now why did those names seem so familiar to him?

There were children's shouts that slowly got quieter and quieter. A man and a woman appeared at the entrance to the kitchen. The woman of course was Chiara, but Antonio didn't know the man. He had messy blond hair, green eyes and incredibly large eyebrows. He had the feeling that he had seen this man somewhere before.

"Antonio," Chiara started, "this is Arthur Kirkland-Jones, a good friend of mine. Arthur, this is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, my fiancé." Antonio nearly squealed in delight when Chiara referred to him as her fiancé.

"Fiancé?" Arthur had a distinctly British accent. "I thought you said your fiancé was dead."

"I thought he was. He had been kidnapped, but managed to escape. He only got back half an hour ago. The bastard didn't even tell me be was coming."

"So you were in Alfred's platoon?" Ah, so that's where he knew the names Arthur and Peter. Captain Kirkland-Jones had told him all about his family. "Did he also..." He trailed off, voice hopeful.

"No. I'm so sorry. He was shot right in front of my eyes." Antonio hated dashing someone's hope like that, but Arthur couldn't go on not knowing the truth.

Arthur's eyes lost that hopeful look.

"Ah. I suppose I should have known. I saw the body, and it has been four years or so."

"If it's any condolence, we were very good friends. I've heard a lot about you and Peter." Arthur blushed slightly.

"The bloody git probably said I was a tea drinking spoil sport that couldn't cook and swore a lot."

"He did say that, but he also said a lot of good things too." Arthur waved his hand in dismissal.

"I don't want to know." Antonio saw the man's green eyes glistening with tears, and immediately felt guilty. "But I'm happy for you Chiara. Don't let him go again."

"It's not like I could leave anyway." This statement was met by confused looks from the others. "I've been honourably discharged." He confessed. Chiara looked shocked.

"You didn't tell me this!"

"I've only been back half an hour, amore, and only had ten of those minutes to explain myself. There's a lot I haven't told you." He lifted up his left trouser leg to reveal an obvious prosthetic. There was scarring round the top, but the rest was cold, shiny plastic.

"You must have gone through a lot." Arthur said, settling into another chair.

"I have, but I'm finally home."

"I've missed you Tonio." Chiara hugged the ex-soldier, who hugged her back.

"I've missed you too amore. Every day." Antonio looked at Arthur, who was focusing pointedly on a picture on the wall. "Arthur? Do you want some tea?"

"Yes please, although I'll make some. Someone should go check on the boys."

"I'll go." Antonio announced, slowly pushing himself up from the chair. He saw Chiara's confused look. "I need to meet them soon, if I'm going to be marrying one of their mothers. We are still on for a wedding, right?"

"Of course, bastard. What made you think otherwise?"

Antonio just shrugged.

The Spaniard limped out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He could hear noises coming from one of the rooms, the one with the words 'Davide's room' painted lovingly on in blue.

Before he went in, Antonio decided to do a little exploring. It wouldn't hurt to see his house again, right?

There were three other doors in the corridor. One, Antonio remembered as the guest room, and another the bathroom. He left those two be.

The final door was familiar to him. It was the bedroom that he last shared with Chiara, over five years ago. The Spaniard looked round the door.

It hadn't changed a bit. The walls were still the same, the same bed sheets, and the same chair in the corner. There was a picture of him and Chiara on the bedside table. They had been at the fun fair, both of them smiling happily into the camera. Antonio couldn't remember the last time he had been so happy.

There was an untitled book on the table, slightly hidden behind the picture. He picked it up. The cover was leather, but otherwise blank.

He opened it up and flicked to a random page. The Spaniard's green eyes scanned the page, reading the words written in elegant writing.

Dear Journal.

Yes, I know I haven't written in this since I was a teenager, but I need to write it all down. Get all my stupid feelings out in this stupid journal.

It's been two years since Antonio left me. The bastard, I know he didn't mean to but... Fuck, my hands are shaking. Nothing hurts more than knowing that I'll never see his face again, never see his stupid smile or those gorgeous eyes of his.

No one understands what I went through. Except maybe Arthur, but I'll come to him later.

Anyway, a few months after... The letter... Davide was born. When I found out about him, I was shocked to say the least. I mean me, pregnant? I would make a crap mother. I nearly slapped myself for not telling Antonio to use a condom. Then I warmed up to the idea, and had gathered up the courage to tell him, when stupid Lieutenant Colonel Hughes had to call. Davide's nearly two now, and reminds me of him every day. They look the same; they have the same personality... The only thing I see of me in him is that stupid curl.

Every time I look at Davide, I see Antonio. I miss him, and it takes all my willpower not to cry when I hold Davide.

When he was first born, I didn't connect with him. I just looked and held him. He didn't feel like mine. He felt like someone else's baby. I was so fucking depressed, and I almost killed myself a few times. I felt so alone, even though there was a baby in the house. But then I realised I had to be there for Davide. I haven't seen Feli in years, ever since my family disowned me for running off with Antonio. I know he cared for me, but no one else did. I did hear that he was married to a German girl, and they were expecting a child. I just wish I could see him again. Hell, I probably wouldn't care that he married a fucking potato.

I took Davide to the park today, the two year anniversary of the letter. I saw this guy with freakish eyebrows sitting on a bench. He was staring into the distance, eyes filled with tears. I told Davide to go play and sat down next to this guy. I don't know what made me do it, but I guess one thing really stood out. He had the same expression that I wore every day for a year.

Turned out this guy was called Arthur, and today was the two year anniversary of his husband's death. Said husband was killed in the same war Antonio was, and they were even in the same patrol. He had an adopted son called Peter. I laughed and said it was a small world after all.

So now Davide and Peter are fast friends and Davide is going over to play tomorrow.

Arthur and I understand each other. We were both affected by the same thing; our lives were both shattered by a letter.

If I could talk to Antonio now... I'd probably say I love him. Then I'd slap him for leaving me. How could he do this? He said that he'd return!

I've got to go. Davide wants his tea. It's been a hard few years, but I've got to move on. I can't linger over Antonio forever.

But that doesn't mean I'll never stop waiting.

Chiara Vargas.

Antonio hastily put the book back where he found it. He went out the door and closed it as quietly as possible.

Chiara was right. He didn't know how she'd felt, he probably never would either. Those last five years had been tough for him, but imagine what they'd been like for her. She thought he was dead, whereas Antonio knew she was alive. Having no family, no friends to comfort her. Trying to stay strong when all you had was lost? Even he couldn't do that.

He made his way back to Davide's room. The shouts were still coming from it. Cautiously, Antonio opened the door. He was met with a mess of bed sheets and toys. In the middle two children were playing, although they stopped when he entered.

One was Davide, obviously. The little child looked exactly like Antonio did when he was younger, except he had a small curl coming out of the right side of his head. When he saw the Spaniard, he smiled cheerfully.

The other child was a little boy who looked about six. He had sandy blond hair, nearing on mousy brown, blue eyes and eyebrows reminiscent of Arthur's.

"Hello again mister!" Davide said, pointing a chubby finger at Antonio. "See Peter, I told you mummy had a man around today!"

"I didn't say you were lying Davi!" The boy, Peter, retorted.

"Mister, what's your name?"

"I'm Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, ex-Second Lieutenant in the army!" He wouldn't have normally added his old rank, but from the toy guns scattered about, he knew the boys had been playing soldier.

"Really? You were in the army? My daddy says that my other daddy was in the army, but then he died. I can't remember much because I was only little, but I think he was nice."

"He was very nice Peter. I knew him."

"Really?" The boy repeated, staring at him in awe.

"Yes really! Now, what were you playing?"

"We were playing soldier! My daddy was in the army too, so we like to play that!"

"Yeah!" Peter exclaimed. "We were protecting our country from evil!"

"Would you mind if I join? I could help you!"

"Yeah! You can be a litenent, and Peter can be a conel and I'll be a genwel!"

"Yeah!" The six year old repeated.

Half an hour later and Antonio still hasn't returned. Although Chiara knew he would be fine, she still worried. She had just found Antonio again, and she never wanted to lose him.

Arthur noticed her inner turmoil.

"Look, how about I put the oven on and you go get your fiancé and the boys."

It was a statement, not a question. Chiara made her way up the stairs. She could hear cries and shouts coming from Davide's room.

She pushed open the door. What she found was not what she had expected.

Antonio was currently being sat on by two boys, both of whom had blankets tied around their necks like capes and toy guns in their hands.

"Davide! What are you doing?" She asked, voice stern.

The boy had the good grace to look sheepish, and was going to answer before Antonio got here first.

"It's alright amore, I let them."

The Italian woman just sighed.

"Of course you did Tonio. Now get downstairs before you become an ex-fiancé. You too boys."

The kids groaned but did as Chiara said, not questioning what a fiancé was or why Antonio was one. The two were left alone in the room.

"You wouldn't do that now, would you amore?" Antonio pleaded.

"Of course I wouldn't, Tonio." She replied, rolling her eyes. God, her fiancé could be gullible sometimes.

Antonio took the Italian into his arms. They gazed into each other's eyes. The Spaniard slowly leant down and tentatively pressed his lips to Chiara's.

It was the first time they had kissed in five years. It wasn't hard and sloppy, but slow and passionate, each wanting nothing more than to stay that way forever.

Chiara was the one to pull away.

"We better get downstairs before Arthur sets the house on fire."

Antonio pondered the statement for a second before coming to a realisation.

"Alfred told me about that! Quickly, downstairs!"

He grabbed his fiancé's hand and pulled her out the door. Before they made their way down the stairs, Antonio spun Chiara and held her at arm's length, savouring the sight of the Italian he loved.

"I love you." He told the Italian, pulling her into his chest.

"I love you too." Chiara replied. "And I never stopped waiting."

A/N: That is the longest thing I have ever written. For anything, ever. Like chapter wise. I have written multi chapter fics longer than this.

(I might do another chapter on them telling Davide about Antonio. Maybe, if I have time. No promises though.)

I hope you all enjoyed that! Please feel free to drop a review!