Apartment of Four: Chapter 12: No More Running

   "Wake up please... C'mon Roma..."
He rested his forehead against the boy's... how utterly cold it was. It was an unexplainable coldness, a lifeless cold? Those words didn't quite cover it either.
    "M...mmmh.."
Spain's head rose as he felt fingers pull at the cloth that made up his shirt.
   "H-he's breathing! He's breathing!"
Seeing Romano's chest collapse and revive again was the most amazing sight in the world, at least to Antonio, whom returned to holding Romano close.
   "We're okay now... he's going to be alright..."

   "Germany?"
"Hmmmh.. what is it?"
   "My brother isn't all bad..."
      Germany turned his vision away from the plane's window, staring at Venenziano, who at this point was fiddling with a children's coloring book, they had the plane ride home to themselves.
   "He's a lot stronger than me and even though no one sees it, he's really talented, and he cares... and... and I..."
   Germany's look of confusion to one of worry.
"... H-Hey! What are chu tearing up for!?"
"I don't want my brother to die... he should be in charge of the country! Not me! It wasn't fair!.."
    "Italy! C-come on, he'll be fine, and it wasn't your fault! Stop it now!"
  The tears continued to fall down Italy's cheeks as little pouts and gasps emerged from him now and again.
  "... fine.. come here.."
Italy practically glomped Germany against the plane's wall, crying into his arm for some time until they both finally fell asleep resting against one another.

   Awakening from a long period of sleep was always difficult, especially when one was injured, it was like being pulled out of a thick ocean of tar, it was a aching process that only left you feeling even more tired than you had before. Romano peered around his surroundings, finding, they were all but normal. It was as though he was in some sort of.. cavern.. with a metal door, in a plain bed, a bed? He shot up now, causing a pain to seer through his stomach to his back, removing the blanket, he found bandages, what good would they do on his type of wound? He shook himself. Where was he!? The metal door's handle creaked and the door rushed open, causing Romano to jump a little and turn his attention on the intruders.
     "Oh! Well would you look at that! You gonna run!?"
        It took a moment or two for the vision before him to process in Romano's mind, who was this cloaked being? He couldn't quite place it, but he'd heard this man's voice before.. whoever he was.
   "You know... like in that one anime where the boy with the arrow on his head!? He wakes up in this fire nation army ship and he runs for it because its unnatural.. er whatever... Japan knows what I'm talkin' bout! Don't-cha Japan!?"
     "That was your country's doing America..."
"Oh.. right..."
   A second man had now stepped into the room, both he and the first man removing their hoods to reveal their faces. The first man, had a young-man's type of profile, gleaming a bright smile of complete and utter confidence, meanwhile, the second man, one standing next to the first, was an exact opposite, his deep-set brown, nearly black, eyes were filled with a type of odd worry, and his black hair was much more presentable than the blonde's, though this man's worry, was just as equally annoying as the other man's ignorance in confidence.
      "Wow kid, you sure take beatings pretty easily, seeing you sit up is really amazing within itself..."
   "W-who are you?"
"Weren't you listening whoever you are!? I'm America, or, Alfred F. Jones and this is Japan, or Kiku Honda..."
   "Please, call me Japan..."
Wait.. wasn't Japan the owner of the building Romano was living in? He questioned this to himself, then decided to further it by asking aloud;
   "Wait.. you were the owner of the building I live in... and... where am I?"
"I was the owner, and still am, this is an underground of that same building... Spain thought it'd be safer if you couldn't be found..."
       The name Spain immediately awoke Romano's mind to its full running capacity, where was the man? Then he thought of the judgement... or whatever it had been that Grandpa Rome had called it, was the thing that allowed him to stay on this earth and live a renewed life really... Antonio? He didn't even know that man's last name! He didn't know hardly anything about him and yet... he was still the thing that allowed Romano to stay on this planet! Suddenly Romano made a face and held a hand to his mouth.
   "Oh! Are you alright Italian dude!?"
        As America ran to aid, Romano shook his head and held out a hand, signaling that he didn't need help. Never the less the American decided otherwise and jumped onto Romano's bed, pounding his chest and yelling; "BREATHE" repeatedly, causing Japan to freak, but not to a huge extent, for he was a very collected person. Romano began to suffocate under this man's many pounds to his chest, breathing was becoming all the more impossible with every hit.
    "M-mister.. mister Am-"
        Suddenly, America was pulled off of Romano's chest screaming shrieks and pleas of many sorts.
   "Honestly! What the bloody hell is your issue you dumb bug!"
"He.. he was suffocating!"
     "I think he suffered worse when YOU started to suffocate him.. I am truly sorry about that, are you alright young man?"
    Romano was coughing now, sitting up yet again and trying to let the fluid in his chest clear and dissolve, never the less, he nodded to the man, the familiar man.. where were they from?
   "Engrand, thank goodness you came..."
"Ah.. Japan.. you know you could have just spoke up and told him to get off right?"
   The Japanese man merely stood there now in feelings of muffled words he was unsure how to throw across properly. England, as it seemed, turned his attention to Romano, whom became a little startled by this man's stare, why was it... so awfully familiar?
   "Oh yes.. now I remember.. you were the boy that asked about the apartments, its quite a surprise that you are like us, what a grand coincidence don't you think?"
    So that's where he was from! It all became clear now, like wiping one's sleeve against fogged glass. That is why the two golden-haired men were familiar, the two of them had been in that restaurant together. A fourth person entered the doorway, someone who seemed in a rush, the place was becoming quite crowded.
    "England... Spain nee-... oh!"
"Yeah, the boy's awake.. and seems to be doing so much better..."
    Romano stared at France, somewhat happy to see a recurring familiarity in this twisted muddle of all these new faces.
   "Well.. zat's good.. but Spain iz 'aving a bad dream again..."
"Oh.. right then.. off we go.."
    With no more words to Romano, the two left the room, leaving him with America and Japan, which wasn't something he really wanted.
  "Wait.. what's wrong with Antonio?"
"Oh.. that.. they say his economy has been getting really bad.. but you know.. I think that's for everyone... Greece is pretty bad off too.."
   "Is he sick?"
"Well, wouldn't you be if you had to stay up for more than three weeks worrying about someone you really really lo-"
   "That's enough..."
Out of no where, Japan hit America with a newspaper, dragging him off and out of the room, requesting that he keep quiet from now on or else he may give people bad ideas.
    "Rest well..."
    That was the last sentiment that was given to Romano, before he was left all alone. He had been the reason that Spain had stayed up for so long, but what could he have done? He couldn't have not rested, he couldn't have pretended everything was okay, he had been in way too much pain for that... but... if he had a cold now, he'd had to have had one then.. so.. now he wished he'd never met the Spaniard, if he was only causing him more aches than he'd probably already had. Then he made the decision, he would leave. He would run from his problems, it was what he was best at after all. Thus, he packed some things in a rucksack he found when sneaking around the underground, he got dressed in some clothes he'd found there as well, and lastly he grabbed a green jacket hanging on a nearby hook, leaving the facility completely, but his problems had just begun.
   "So.. this is where you've been hiding..."
Frozen, that is what he was, completely frozen, even though his blood... was burning with fear. Turning, he came face to face with what he'd been dreading, it was the boss of the Mafia, aided by three men, damn it.
    "Surprised to see us? Well.. it didn't take long for us to.. persuade a certain little birdy to lead us to where you were.."
   The man held out his hand, in it he held a familiar fluff, a small yellow bird, unmoving, eyes closed.. was he.. alive?
   "Let it go!"
"Gladly.."
   The man released his grip and the bird fell limp to the ground bellow. Then, something truly terrible, the man rose a leg, ready to pound it down on the small bird, ready to finish it. Yet, in place of his foot, was a hand to stop it, it's owner giving out a wince and throwing his head back in utter pain. Romano grabbed the bird, it was breathing, he was breathing!
   "Pfft.. pathetic.. its just a little bird, and it isn't even yours, for some reason, I remember your boss saying you were a lot more selfish..."
    The boss bent down and whispered into Romano's ear;
"Run... like you always do..."
   With that, Romano stumbled to his feet, still holding the bird, running for what life he had left to hold onto.
   "C'mon boys! We have a little game to play!!"
They were off in a flash, after a minuet of letting the boy run, one measly minuet, that to Romano, felt as though it were an eternity. Meanwhile, in a window, emerald eyes watched on, widened, scared, then suddenly... furrious.
    "Please.. please stop..."
  He just wanted the pain to go away. He wanted them to quit playing with him, why didn't they just end it already instead of playing with him!? They'd caught him in no time at all, throwing him to the ground with punches, then kicking him repeatedly, bringing him back to his feet, only to punch at him and throw him back down, the taste of blood forever lasting on his lips. Pain no longer an option, replaced by.. nothingness... Maybe it would have been better to feel something, because then at least, he would know he was still alive, he would know there was a reason for him to try to get away.. but.. was that a good enough reason? Living? Would he be content living when there were many that were constantly after him? Was there anything really worth living for if it was always going to be li-
   "Ey!"
     All of the men paused, turning their heads, Romano looking forward, his heart pounding swiftly at the sight of the Spaniard standing there, holding out a thin sword.
   "Get away from mi amor!"
"Really? Really now? We have nothing on you, just leave little man..."
     Spain continued to stand his ground.
Romano wanted to yell endlessly at him, he wanted the man to get out of here, he didn't want pain inflicted on him.
        "Its okay Lovi... even if I die.. at least.. I'll come back.."
He winked at the boy laying there in a small puddle of his own blood. The sun wasn't shining, and rain slightly began to sprinkle softly. Then, the man charged, holding his sword high, ready to strike, his sword was quickly taken out and his fists were the only things he used. Romano didn't even think these men had brought any guns, they planned to do this job completely naturally, with their own bare hands. Seeing Spain taking them all on was quite a sight, and he wasn't holding up too awfully.
   "Lovi! Run! Now!"
       Right he had to get out of here. With that thought, he got to his feet, the bird he'd had earlier lying quietly in his jacket pocket. He began to run, he ran til he got to the end of the alleyway, then, he heard it, a loud yell and the distinct sound of rustling clothes, a rustle that was much to swift to be normal fighting movement, the boy turned, seeing Spain upon the ground now, upon his knees. Then it came to him.. he was always running off... he ran off whenever he was in trouble. Ever since he was young he ran... not this time.. not this time! This time he would run toward what scared him, because the man that was sacrificing himself, was worth it.
    "Hey!! Keep your fucking hands off!"
The Boss's fist came down, but.. it was stopped!?
   Rather surprised, he looked forward, standing there, was a boy, a boy that was completely unfamiliar, even though it was well known who he was; Lovino Romano Vargas. He was standing here, a new light burning within his pupils, the reflection of fear hiding in them, the fear the man holding out his fists now possessed.
    "Well.. I guess we can finish now! Can't we!?"
"No! I am fucking tired of running, and you bastards aren't going to kill me! Because for once, for once in such a long time... I finally have something to live for!"
    He meant business, this changed boy, that was for sure, and Spain, from where he sat, was just as baffled as the men around them, the men ready to charge again.