[This is my first fanfiction so bear with me and my author's note:

Alright, to introduce myself, I am MoJo—TsuneniToEien (Google translate told me that meant "always and forever" in Japanese) and I've been a member of Fanfiction's website for about a year now as a part-time editor for two users (Dubstepzio and Japanese Butterfly) and writer. I just didn't have anything to post... UNTIL TODAY! Yay!

This is an old fanfiction I've been keeping in my Doc Manager for almost as long as I've been a member here that I was inspired to write for a very dear friend who left my school last year... It's kind of late for a present, but I've re-written it enough to say it's good. Now, this is a chapter fic and I'm thinking of posting the second chapter 2-3 days from now (it's already completed, but I need some time to write the last chapter) and the third a couple more days from then.

There's a flashback-ey element to my story, so hopefully using this will help avoid confusion:

Key: OXO is my marker for the present time in Romano's POV. ~X~ is my marker for something that happened in the past. XOX is my maker for something in Spain's POV, not necessarily present time, though. *Note that when two or more present time markers follow after the other time is moving forward. (OXO [Text] OXO [Text])

There won't be another author's note until the end as to not mess up the flow of the story between chapters. Enjoy~!]

I Don't Want You to Go

Chapter 1

I was in the middle of freaking nowhere on some path I'd never seen before (...at least not at night) lost. What else was I to do, though, except continue to run away from all the pain Spain caused me. I didn't understand; 8 days ago Antonio had been saying he might have had to leave to go someplace for just a while... maybe.

And today it all came tumbling down, the wall I'd built around my heart. What I called "home" and "family" just collapsed, and I only had a week—just one—to build back as much of it as I could. To prepare for the possible YEARS ahead of me without Antonio.

One. Week. And Antonio would leave me broken and on my own again with the sad pile of bricks and crumbled stone... Today would make it the sixth day of the week. Tensions where high—I called him a liar and a traitor—he didn't want me anymore, I thought, so I ran as fast as I could as far as I could to anyplace that wasn't Spain and where there was no Antonio.

...I thought you were different, Antonio... I thought you loved me...

I was starting to cry again, and got angry. I punched and whacked at the tree that was the closest. I let out everything I was keeping inside screaming and grunting, hitting it tree till my hands were red and hurt too badly for me to go on. At that point I just dropped to the ground and wept.

It was over. Everything was fucking over.

There was a quiet rustling (freaking squirrels f- following me everywhere, I bet) and I turned to look behind me and... it was like someone opened a window and lit up my heart. If I hadn't pinched myself so hard to contain all that I was feeling my face probably would've turned as red as a beet and I would have smiled a smile goofier than Spain's.

When I ran he went after me, even though he had no idea where I went, he eventually found me.

And he was standing right over there.

OXO

Spain whispered goodnight, but I haven't heard the door to my room close yet.

"W- What do you want, bastard?" I mumbled into my already tear-soaked pillow.

The older man stroked my back letting out soothing shushes. "Roma... why are you trembling—"

"Why do you THINK?!" I spat harshly jerking away from his hand.

...

"... The sien-"

"Shut up."

I shot Spain a weary glare. My face was still blotchy and red from crying just a few moments ago, and having remembered this I turned my back on the Spainard, once again.

He tried again, weakly, "...Roma..."

"Dammit!" I cried, "I told you to SHUT. UP."

~X~

"Romano..." Antonio whispered, unbelieving it was really me standing before him.

"Spain..." I replied in the same manner. I wanted to run to him and I wanted him to hold me and say he would never leave me and that he wouldn't go out in the middle of the ocean, so far away from me. But I was paralyzed by the fear that if I let him take me back home I'd wake up the next morning to find him gone.

That was the scariest possible thing I could've imagined and it was what held me to my spot, not getting any closer.

"Hey, Romano..." he started, cautiously walking towards me. I visibly tensed. "...look, I- I... don't make these decisions, niño..."

"But you could stay if you wanted," I shouted, "God gave us free-will knowing there would be sinning barbarians living on His earth! There are other ways to gain wealth and power, so you don't have to leave Spain, Antonio..."

The Spainard smiled weakly, and was going to say something when the sound of a branch cracking took his attention. A figure leapt from the woods and swung at Spain.

Spain blocked the attack, and the weapons clashed—the blade of a sword, and the hilt of Spain's war axe. The man smirked, but by no means was amused.

"Bonjour, 'Tonio, fancy meeting you here... Gah!"

Spain countered: Kicking the Frenchman right in the ribs, Antonio gave himself the space to swing his axe and strike! The freak Spain was up against, however, reacted just in time and their weapons clashed again.

Something about the pedo-bastard's demeanor had changed, though, and the he glanced quickly—the smallest flicker of fear in his eyes—for the woods where he came.

He should've retreated right then and there; it would have saved him a lot of pain.

"You still don't think, after all this time, you're going to beat me finally, do you, Francis?!" Antonio spat.

France turned back to Antonio, and gave him a devious grin. "You're supposed to be in the middle of the ocean, by now, aren't you? It's not fair of you to keep hogging little Roma~"

Antonio growled and aggressively pushed more force against the Frenchman, getting dangerously close to his face. "You shouldn't have come here, France." He lowered his voice intensely, "And this time I'll make sure you never come back."

"Oui, mon ami..." France chuckled darkly, "...there won't be any need to, after tonight..."

That was when I realized what the French bastard had actually been looking for, all too late...

Or, to be more specific, who the Franch bastard had been signaling.

OXO

The bastard won't leave so I give him what he wants, without holding back anymore:

"I'm crying, alright?" the words were shaking out of my throat, "I'm crying now because YOU made me! And you fucking know it! That's why you keep apologizing like, 'Lo siento, lo siento...'"

I shot-up fiercely locking my 'Boss's' eyes with my own, the burning storm of emotions in my glare...

"If you're so sorry, WHY CAN'T YOU JUST FUCKING STAY!" I screamed, no longer able to keep the pain and despair from flooding into my voice. I almost collapsed into the mattress.

~X~

The masked man appeared behind Antonio and didn't hesitate as he plunged his sword into the Spainard's back.

"We meet again, Spain..."

The Ottomon Empire yanked the blade right back out, and Spain horribly screamed and dropped to the ground.

I was so fucking scared I couldn't even feel the tears pouring out of me.

He was smirking at me now. I tried backing away, but for every step I took back Turkey took two forward till he was almost completely over me. I began shaking. To make matters even worse I had backed into... him.

"Don't worry, Roma~" he sang, "I won't let that mean man take you away..." I could hear the movement of France's cloak behind me and he breathed into my ear, "I'll be sharing you too, of course~"

That was when he touched me, firmly grabbing hold of my shoulders. His words... roused an image so damn disturbing... that molester didn't even have time to look surprised when I twisted around and slammed my fist into his nose. HARD.

I was about to run over to Spain's aid (even though I didn't know anything about dealing with battle wounds) but the Ottoman snatched me up, leaving me helpless...

I struggled against Turkey's strong grasp, flailing to break free from his hold as he took me further and further from Spain. I couldn't take any more, and I desperately sobbed, "SPAIN, HELP ME! AYUDA ME!"

A blur of Antonio raced past me and he jabbed the end of his axe into the middle of Turkey's back. That ended it; Turkey was too shaken to recover from that blow and I fell to the ground, watching Spain assail him senselessly until he became to weak to make any more sound. He left Turkey alive, and France had escaped right when he saw Antonio move...

The night passed all too slowly...

OXO

The Spainard turned away in shame, his dark brown hair sweeping across over his face.

"...I'm doing this... to keep you safe..." It was so hard to watch Antonio biting his lip, trying to hold back tears already dripping down his cheek. "I have to do what they tell me, sweet tomate... that's how it works. But I do it for you, Lovino..."

He reached for my face, hesitating a little, then caressed my own tears away. He breathed in shakily, finding strength to face me in such a low moment, holding my chin so it was impossible to look away. His eyes screamed that they were tired, yet they sparkled, guileless and bright.

"Don't you understand?" barely a whisper; it's all he could conjure without breaking, himself.

OXO

I woke up late the next morning, confused about what had been a dream and what had not... until I wiped enough sleep from my eyes to notice the tanned, sleeping man sprawled on the floor next to my bed. Holding an axe to his chest.

My heart pounded as I re-played the events from last night right up to the point when Antonio began ruthlessly wailing on Turkey. After that... after that... Antonio picked me up in his arms and carried me back home. I think he woke Belgium up and she asked what happened and wrapped bandages around his wounds, but we were tired (I was drifting off at this time, which is why I can't remember everything) and suddenly we were in my room, and... and...

...I guess we both passed out.

I was glad to have recalled my memories, but there was a sick, heavy feeling in my chest. A feeling of impending doom and anxiety... that's when I suddenly also remembered Spain would be gone in 4 hours.

My heart was pounding again and I clenched my chest (Why won't that pain go away?) stumbling around my room. It hurt... it hurt so bad... I mentally and emotionally couldn't take it...

I nearly stepped on Spain's face, but the sound of my footstep was so close to him it woke him up.

"...Romano?" he recognized his surroundings immediately, "what time is it...?"

"...12p.m." I responded solemnly.

"...I have to leave today." A knot formed in my throat.

"...I know."

...

"...Do you still remember what I said to you?"

What?

Wait... what?!

I looked at him like he was crazy. Like we both had the same dream last night, or something, or maybe I was still asleep! I pinched myself just to make sure, but that didn't work. S- so all that crying and yelling and fighting shit... actually happened?

I felt an odd relief of pain.

"Yes," I mumbled.

He kissed me on my forehead.

"Good," Spain replied.

Maybe for him, but not for me...

He was leaving.

He was actually leaving.