A Deadly Illness
~Chapter One: An Infection~
Summary: Romano could here the Spaniard's breath grow more shallow as he slept. Tears of frustration in his eyes, the Italian burst out of Antonio's bedroom and jumped for the phone in the living room. But it wasn't there.
(AN1:/SO. Considering how crappy my other stories are, give it a shot okay? This took a lot of effort and I hope you enjoy, my lovelies~)
~July the twenty-second, 1488
Madrid, 14:46pm
Antonio ignored the icky feeling he felt on his arm when the man he was helping sneezed on it. Being the careless one, he didn't pay any mind to it and only smiled stupidly at the man. "Bless you," he says. The shorter man looked up at him and bowed his head.
"Gracias, compadre," says the shorter one, wiping his wet nose with a sleeve. "But this isn't really as necessary, you've done enough for me,"
"Nonsense, I could never let a sick man carry all this weight back and forth," says the Spaniard with a laugh. "It's really nothing," he replies with a grin. He follows the man to his small home. Antonio looked around in awe. "Que bien! It looks really nice here, haha, where can I put your stuff?"
The man sneezed again and got in a coughing fit. Antonio smiled patiently. The smaller man pointed to the floor and Tonio puts the heavy crate where the location was pointed at. "I guess I'll be on my way now," he chuckles, only to get the door rudely shut in his face before he left.
"You have been so kind to me," whispers the man, coughing violently, "For all of the work you have helped me with, I will grant you one wish. Just one wish, before I pass away," he rasps as a look of confusion passes over the Spaniard's expression.
Three wishes? Antonio paid no attention whatsoever whether the old man was telling the truth or not. So many things to wish for! His empire was currently on its way to falling so he could wish for a stronger army. Or he could wish for better food and homes for his people. But he could wish for better weapons and armory.
"Being selfish can destroy all," The old man says in a firm tone, which turned sly. "Perhaps, someone dear or close to you needs something?"
Protection~
Quick as a flash, Antonio had the man against the wall, a knife he kept on his belt already in hand, and a deathly glare on the Spaniard's expression. "Who are you? How do you know about Romano?" he exclaims, mercilessly inching the knife at the shorter man's neck.
"Fabio," the other responds, and a suddenly force knocked the conquistador off his feet. "Your human techniques can not match up to my abilities. Surely you don't have a wish in mind."
"Romano, I want him to be protected if I am not there for him," Antonio says firmly, and Fabio stares at him.
"That is you final wish?"
"Si," he nods, and suddenly he found himself outside Fabio's home, and stared at it with a startled expression as it disappeared in a flash of wind.
=things changed=
A GUST OF WIND…
~~*He will be protected ONLY if the Spaniard isn't there.*~~
…WILL VANISH WHATEVER IS LEFT.
==Many years pass and things changed.==
~July the twentieth, present time *2011-
Madrid 14:46pm
The following nations turned all their attention to the Spaniard three seats away from Hungary; when he sneezed. And it was no small sneeze; it was a series of large sneezes, going on for quite some time.
Romano. Now an adult, glared with embarrassment at the Spaniard sitting next to him. Antonio, not wanting anyone to get sick from him, hadn't removed his hands from his nose and mouth area since he first started sneezing.
"A tissue, Tonio?" the small woman from Belgium asked, smiling kindly. Anotion rejected the offer, smiling behind his hand to imply that he was fine.
"You can go on with the meeting," he smiles, his voice slightly muffled as the British man looked at him with a scowl.
"This is your country, so therefore it is /your/ meeting," Arthur scolds, crossing his arm and fixing his collar. "But you are the host, so you can decide whether to end the meeting or not, and since your condition isn't exactly the best, I recommend that."
Antonio looks around, "Si? What do you guys think?" he questions, only to get nods of agreement and a scowl from Romano. With that, the meeting was over.
"Ow," whines Romano, shaking his hand and a small droplet of blood landed on the table as the other nations cleared out.
"What happened?" asked Antonio, looking over the other's shoulder as he sanitized his hands.
"A fucking papercut," the other snaps back.
"Does it hurt?"
"Yes! Of, course it does, idiota!"
Antonio only smiles innocently at the Italian as he left with a scowl.
Finding himself alone, the Spaniard props himself onto the table and stares blankly at the walls, not noticing his mind fading back to what happened centuries ago…
... "And you promise it will work?"
Fabio nods. "Not always though,"
That caught the Spaniard's attention. "…?"
"He will only be protected as long as there is no way you can, or unless you're not in any condition. It will not work, though, if you are able to prevent the harm."
"Ah.." Antonio grinned, "That will be easy!"
"But if you die, the magic on Romano will wear off."
The Spaniard looks up at Fabio. "Wait…!"
The small house started to tremble. Antonio found himself outside of Fabio's home and stared at it with a startled expression as it disappeared in a flash of w-
"Bastardo!"
Antonio jumped, surprised at the voice that interrupted his small flashback. He smiles at Lovino. "Hola,"
"Why the hell are you taking so long, you have to drive me home, you idiot!" the Italian snarls, crossing his arms.
"Ah… si…" Tonio smiles, before turning around quickly to sneeze violently into his own arm.
~July the twenty-first~
Madrid 18:34pm
Dr. Cruzero frowned slightly as he stared at the note pad in front of him. His patient, Antonio Carriedo, seemed to have more than a mere cold. But that's not what the papers and data said. It said it was just the time of year. He must probably have allergies.
Tonio accepted this with a smile and started walking off with the prescription to the nearest pharmacy. That's when it started.
He dropped the papers and suddenly started having an apoplectic coughing fit. He went pale and could barley breathe from all the coughing.
He needed help. And fast.
He started to vomit, already on the ground on all fours. Antonio looked up and around frantically for help, but his sight was already blurred. Gritting his teeth, he used all his strength and sanity to stand up and lean against the nearest building before vomiting once again. He looked around frantically in case there was anyone that could help him. There wasn't. He holds his stomach tightly, as if to avoid the vomit pushing its way up his throat. He grew pale and his lips were a slight green with nausea. "A-ayuda me," he pleads to the air needingly, eyes fluttering shut as he lets go of the wall and hits the ground with a soft thud.
Antonio (without thinking) runs up to the shorter man, who seemed to have pointy ears, and was on all fours, vomiting.
"Oye! Estas bien? Are you okay? You don't look too good," Tonio said, holding a hankercheif to the man. "Do you need help with all these things? A man as sickly as you shouldn't be able to carry around all these crate,"
The shorter man looks up at Tonio. "I'm fine, I just have a small illness, that's all."
The Spaniard wasn't going to take that. He picks up the crates the shorter one was holding, smiling widely. "I can help you take this to wherever you are going!"
The shorter man let's out an irritated sigh and nods to Antonio, already seeming to know that speaking to him wouldn't work.
A day had past during the travel to the shorter man's home, yet, it felt like years with the Spaniard's constant talking, which suddenly got interrupted when the shorter man sneezed violently onto Antonio's arm. Tonio smiled stupidly at the man.
"Bless you,"
Antonio sits up with a rush, waking up from his long slumber, looked around nervously when he found himself in his own bedroom. 'A dream?' he thinks, scratching the back of his head. He stands up, rubbing his eye, and sluggishly trails his feet on the ground as he walked, heading for the kitchen, when something caught his eye. Walking over to the note on his front door, he reads it.
"I gave you the wrong prescription, but once one of the nurses caught up, you were found unconscious.." Antonio reads, "We got some transportation for you to take you to your own home, since, unfortunately, there was no space left in the hospit-…"
"Bullshit," says an angry voice behind him.
Antonio turns around startled, but smiles upon seeing Romano. "Lovino! Hola! What are you doing here?"
"My fucking ride broke down a couple of miles away, so it's not like I'm here to visit you because you're sick!"
Antonio smiles, "I will look for some gas if you really need it, haha, you look really tired."
Romano grimaced. "Hurry up! Merda, you're so fucking slow, you tomato bastard!"
"You can go wait in the living room, I'll be right out!" The Spaniard laughs, the Italian's word unfazing him whatsoever.
Stubbornly, Romano huffs and flops himself on one of the couches. In fact he was very tired, and there was no hesitation when he passed out tiredly on the couch.
"No! I'm not going to miss you," Little Romano huffs, puffing out his cheeks childishly.
The conquistador smiled down at him. "Sure you won't! It's only for a few days," Antonio said, ruffling the smaller one's head as he stood and left, waving when he seemed to be far enough.
Romano, not noticing he did so, waved back slowly before stepping back and going back inside the Spaniard's residence. He actually did not like Antonio leaving him by himself for such a long time. But it is NOT that he missed him. It's just that it's too quiet for the smaller Italian, that's all. He was almost a teen for sakes; he didn't need babying.
He waits a good while before getting a knife and pointing the tip with his finger hard, which fir anyone, could have chopped the finger right off, but strangely, thought Romano, it didn't happen to him. It did no harm to him whatsoever. In fact, the only time it did really harm him was when Antonio was home. He lready knew the routine. For some reason, when Antonio left for one of his trips, Romano had the ability of not getting hurt. It had been like that for a couple of weeks. But also, since then, Antonio would had this annoying sneezing fit.
Lovino frowns. Not that he didn't enjoy the silence, just the thought of being lone for the next couple of weeks bothered him greatly.
Romano wakes up slowly, looking around the strange room he was in. Then he remembered.
He was at Tonio's home.
And he also remembered why he was here.
He stands up quickly, already the frown on his face, ready to let the Spaniard have it, yet he suddenly froze. "Antonio…?"
After a moment, he rushes over at the collapsed Spaniard's side, shaking his shoulder harshly. "What the hell? Wake up, damn bastard, this isn't fucking funny!"
He looks at one of the phones in the kitchen, outside from its charger base, and kneels next to Antonio again, looking through to see who to call.
But..
He put down the phone, deciding he could be able to help the Spaniard. "Hey! Get up! I won't talk to you gain if you don't respond goddamnit!"
Silence.
The silence was what he had always hated when he used to live at the Carriedo household. Romano ignored the burning tears in his eyes and did all he could do to try lifting Antonio. But he was never one with the greatest strength.
"D-damnit! Wake up! WAKE UP, ANTONIO!"
~July the twenty-second~
Madrid 09:13
Antonio had been growing paler everytime Romano looked at him. The Spaniard's temperature was high and he was sweating like a pig.
"Idiota," Romano muttered, replacing the warm, wet rag on Tonio's forehead again.
"Gracias," Antonio says in a raspy and low voice, smiling at the Italian. He turns his head away from Romano and coughs harshly into the blanket, eyes half-lidded when he turned back to Romano.
Lovino frowns and his elbow touches one of the candle's fire by accidently.
By reaction he yelps and it took him a moment to realize he wasn't hurt. This confused him. The Spaniard was right here… why didn't get hurt?
Romano fumbled mentally over the question when he suddenly got the attention of Antonio's breathing.
Romano could hear the Spaniard's breath grow more shallow as he slept. Tears of frustration in his eyes, the Italian burst out of Antonio's bedroom and jumped for the phone in the living room. But it wasn't there. "Che palle, che palle, CHE PALLE!" he growled at the ceiling, wondering where he had dropped the phone from earlier. He then straightened up and headed for the kitchen, eyes wide.
He must have dropped it where he first found Antonio collapsed! And as he predicted, it was there.
Romano dives for the phone and just as he was dialing, the battery died. "Merda!" he snaps and jumps up as he looks around for the second phone. Every beat in his chest felt like a clock tricking backwards for his Spanish friend and Romano hurdled himself into the wall as he reach forward for the phone on the desk.
He scrolls up and down the recent calls and didn't know who to pick out of everyone. But he ignored that and clicked on the first name highlighted he saw. The tone rang nearly six time until someone had picked up.
"Hallo?" answered the rough Dutch accent.
Romano glared at the wall. Of course… he had to dial the man from Holland. "Ciao," he answers before taking in a deep breath.
=it takes effort and heart.=
THE SOUND OF RAIN…
~~*Sometimes the only ones you can trust are your enemies.*~~
…IS VERY EASY TO SLEEP WITH.
==People can change. But sometimes it takes effort and heart.=
~July the twenty-third
Madrid 11:23am
Tim knocks harshly on the door, scowling. Romano answers, scowling as well. "Can you help me or not?"
"How can I help you?" snaps the man from the famous Netherlands.
"Help me out with Antonio."
"And why should I?"
"Why the hell not?"
And they stare at each other. Like a contest. The loser was at the mercy of the other.
Tim walks inside, grumbling curses under his breath. "What is in it for me? We aren't in good fucking terms."
"Euros? Plenty of them," Romano replies coldly. Though… he had to get some money first. Since he was completely broke.
And before either of them could say a word, a crash was heard somewhere in the back. Romano peeks at the hallway and see's the Spaniard still asleep in his bed. Before a shadow passed by and slammed the door.
"Who else is in here? Why can't they help you?"Time spats, getting quiet at the look on the Italian's man face.
"There is no one else here."
Running, Romano reaches Antonio's bedroom and grip the handle, finding it locked. "Merde! This is fucking serious, help!"
Tim paces over quickly, gripping the handle and throwing himself against the door. Once. Twice. The third time it opened and they freeze. A human form was standing over the Spaniard, who was starting to squirm and jerk around in his sleep.
"Who the hell are you? How did you get in?"
The human form turned around and faced Romano, who refroze in shock.
It had no face. It was just a shadow, yet it was solid. Its eyes though, which suddenly appeared, were a deep crimson. It disappears with a mist and Antonio stops spazzing.
Lovino runs over to him and breathes from relief when the Spaniard was breathing again, paler than usual.
"I have to help him some way," Romano mumbles.
"You can."
Romano straightens up, turning to look at Tim. "Che cosa?"
"What?" Tim blinks blandly.
"You didn't hear that?"
"No,"
"Only you can hear me, Romano. Only you believe."
"What the fuck.." The Italian mumbles, and started to think he was sick.
"I can help you help him. But you need to trust me."
"Tim. Can you watch the bastard for a moment? I'm going to get another rag for him," without waiting for a reply, Romano leaves the room and goes to the kitchen. "Alright, how the /fuck/ can you help us?"
"I know a cure for his sickness. But do you trust me, Romano? I need your complete trust."
"…" Romano scowls. "You can't really expect me to ju-!"
"His life is at your hands. Don't you know the magic you have? The power he gave you? It's because of him, that power of safety, of protection, is in you. Have you ever wondered why you never have gotten hurt when he is away. Because of him, you are where you are now. So aren't you going to return the favor by helping him back?"
"H-how the hell do you know all this?"
"Will you trust me or not? We don't have a lot of time. We HAVE to do this NOW Romano."
Hesitating, Romano makes a slow nod. "What the hell is your name anyway?"
"Call me Fabio."
=to trust others.=
THE ABILITY TO KNOW…
~~*The journey to save someone you care about is the greatest thing of all.*~~
…IS NOT THE BEST THING THERE IS.
=To follow the solution of heart, you sometimes have to trust others=
I
I
(AN2:/ HOLY CRAP! Sorry this took so flipping long. I have nothing planned out for this except for some emotional scenes and the end. Which could be two or three chapters away. ANYYYWAAAAY. I AM AVAILABLE FOR IDEAS. Just post them and I'll pick my favorites~ and, of course, give you credit. If you want to add another character that's fine.
I guess some of this story I got ideas from Insidious. If you haven't seen the movie, watch it. Right now, foo. Umm… sorry for my nontickle fics! I know I promised ;^; but I've just been so… BUUUSSSYYY AAAAGH! I'll write more when I get back home from this crap ass vacation. Heck, I was so dedicated to finish this one chapter I bought a friggen USB for fifteen bucks. So it can carry a lot of crap in it xP . Hope you enjoyed! R&R PLEEEEASE! Look forward for some more chizz.
PLEASE. LOVE. HETALIAAAAA~)