Loving a Stranger

Epilogue: 5 Months Later~

"This is so stupid," João hisses, regardless of the fact that he is supposed to be at attention. "He was on the field for less than a month and he's getting a Distinguished Service Cross. Retarded, don't you think?" Aside from the side-glares that are shot at him from the other uniformed men and women, no one answers. Unfortunately, it doesn't stop the Portuguese as he turns to me and the others, who until now have been sitting quietly off to the side watching the ceremony. "It's like the stupider you are, the greater your reward is," he whispers. "The idiot was in training longer than he was actually out there, and yet he's getting recognized for his irrational stupidity."

We have all heard the arguments and complaints before, for João had decided to grace us with his views the second he had found out that Antonio would get an award. I roll my eyes in annoyance, ready to tell him to shut the fuck up, but Gilbert beats me to it. "Damn you're pissy," he comments. "It's almost like you're jealous of your Bruder."

João's eyes flash angrily, his lips curling into a sneer. "Like hell I'm jealous! I've gone back to the army and I've been there for half a year. Some of these people have been there for several years. Do you see anyone else getting metals? No." The tall burly guy next to him suddenly nudges him a warning, nearly sending the smaller man onto his face. "Sorry," he whispers, sounding decidedly unapologetic as he looks to us again.

A few seats down, Arthur groans and mutters something under his breath, while Francis scoots to the edge of his seat and haughtily returns João's look. "Mon ami, there are two others receiving awards as well," he informs. "And do I recall hearing of any exceptional displays of bravery on your part? No I think not."

The Frenchman and his British counterpart are all packed to move to Paris tomorrow, and as much as I hate to say it, things won't be the same without his perverted, somewhat helpful advice and his deep outlook on life. Antonio and Gilbert had been inconsolable for weeks after they had learned of their friend's plan to finish his schooling in his home country, for shame, I guess that means their crazy fucking drink dates and drunken rampages through the nightlife are over. "Bloody hell," Arthur had grumbled. "It's not like the man is dying. He'll be back." He is secretly looking forward to the change of scenery, and I hear he's hoping on getting inspiration for a novel he plans on writing, something about frogs I think is what he had said.

Just this morning while Antonio was- for the last damn time- buttoning up his uniform, Francis had offered his last dramatic farewell to his two childhood friends. "Mes amis, you have been the greatest companions a single mortal man could have asked for. We have been together through thick and thin, we have laughed in the face of authority, we have loved well, we have cried together when I was being moody, or when Antonio was getting dumped, or when Elizabeta started dated Roderich."

"I am too awesome for tears Franny! I sure as hell did not cry!"

"We have fought together went the world seemed to be against us. We have sometimes fought each other over some stupid things like broken guitars and a glass too many. My dear, dear friends, it is time to write another chapter in the book of our lives, what it will contain is your choice. But I shall give you some wisdom- and I suggest you take it because I am rarely ever wrong. Gilbert, I have a feeling that your woman is getting anxious for you to 'pop the question.' I fear that if you don't do it soon, she'll end up buying a nice ruby ring for your finger! You know Elizabeta is a take charge woman."

"Scheiße! You don't really think she would do that!"

"Do you think she will not? Now Antonio, my advise to you is to take good care of that little Italian of yours. Never forget to let him know how much you love him."

"What the fuck, bastard! I'm right here you know!"

"Sí, Francis. Gracias."

What a sappy bastard. João is now glaring at said bastard as if he wishes Francis is already on that plane to Paris. "We seem to disagree on the definition of bravery," he murmurs, ignoring the guy who is discreetly elbowing him again. "I say that nearly getting blown up is stupid and risky."

Behind me, I can hear Alfred munch on a smuggled burger. "I don't know dude, but sometimes the heroic thing to do is what others would call stupid and risky."

I hum in approval. "Hamburger bastard has a point."

It is enough to shut João up, as he rolls his eyes at our refusal to agree with him and finally brings his eyes back to the front, a proud smile growing on his face in spite of it all. He is an interesting bastard all right, but he still cares about Antonio as much as Gilbert and I care about our little brothers.

I glance down the row a bit until my eyes reach the smiling Lisboa couple. Yeah, you hear me right, Mammá Josefa married that Francisco guy a couple months ago, and can anyone complain when the woman is practically the human embodiment of a sunbeam? The two of them are just so happy and young-looking that even João doesn't voice a single sarcastic remark about being Antonio's actual stepbrother.

Beside them sits an attentive little girl of ten years old, kicking her feet in interest and leaning over to Mammá Josefa to whisper to her every so often. Ana. The apple never falls far from the tree, and I guess it's fair to say that Antonio gets his love of all things adorable from his mother. The second she had met Ana she was practically begging her new husband to adopt her, and Francisco, being the lovesick pushover he is and unable to fight giant puppy eyes that also run in the family, had agreed in a heartbeat. The long adoption process still isn't over, but it's going to work out. Antonio's already prancing around happily chanting, "I'm going to have una hermana" as if he's the one adopting.

My thoughts are interrupted when my brother reaches over for my hand, squeezing it slightly as a soft "ve" escapes his lips. I'm not sure what he's thinking about, but I squeeze back anyway, glancing down at our hands, and more specifically, the band of gold encasing Feli's ring finger on his left hand. I still can't believe my brother is actually engaged to that Potato Bastard, but I'm even more surprised that I never really flipped out about the whole thing, not even when Ludwig had talked to me to get my permission.

"Why the fuck would you even ask me?" I had demanded. "You know I hate you."

Ludwig isn't the kind of asshole who tells the girl's father, "You know, it doesn't even matter what you say. The decision isn't really yours to make. See you at the wedding." Instead, he had glanced at me calmly. "I've already gotten permission from your grandfather, but I felt as though I should talk to you too. You and Feliciano are extremely close, and it would be disrespectful on my part if I proposed without consulting you first. If I had done that, then it would have justified everything you've said about me."

I still don't like the bastard: he's way too macho, he's a wurst-sucking asshole, and looking at him pisses me off. But he makes Feli happy. So, what the hell could I have done but agreed to let him cherish my little brother in those giant, potato loving hands of his?

"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo," the man with the microphone suddenly speaks up, while the uniformed guy beside him stepped foreword to pin the metal to my Spaniard's shirt. "November 2016 to December of that same year. The Distinguished Service Medal, for though he was only in service for a month, during that time he displayed extraordinary heroism to the risk of his own life." Both men salute, and Antonio returns the action with a bit of a smile sneaking onto his face.

"Lovi!" The Spaniard is disentangling himself from the others and is quickly striding toward me. "Do you want to take a walk with me before dinner?"

I shrug carelessly. "Sure. Whatever."

Antonio cheers and announces our plan before gently taking my hand and leading me outside. I think I hear the other two members of their trio calling out a "good luck" but I am distracted when Antonio leans over and pecks my cheek as we leave the room. "Te amo," he reminds me.

Just what have we been doing with our lives for the last five months, you wonder. Eh, the usual: we've been on countless dates, we took a three-week trip to Spain, we survived one or two dramatic arguments with even more dramatic makeups.

I guess the most prominent day we went through was about three months ago. Feli had been pushing me to tell Antonio about my depression and all that shit, but I had kept putting it off because quite frankly, I had had no fucking idea how I was supposed to bring it up. Nor had I wanted to. But then the idiot had ended up bringing up the subject on his own.

"Hey Lovi?" He had asked me as we cuddled on his couch.

"Hm?"

"Do you remember a few months ago, back when I was having my memory problems?"

"Fucking get on with it."

"Well...you told me that you have scars, mi tomate...I never knew that..."

I had frozen on the spot. Dammit! Why had he always paid attention to those things? If I had asked him to buy me something from the store it would had completely slipped by his thick skull, but when it had come to things I hadn't wanted to talk about his memory had suddenly grown as sharp as a fucking elephant.

"Lovi?" He had asked carefully, biting his lip with nervousness. "Did you...give them to yourself?"

Like I'd said before, I had thought facing things sucked balls. But what the hell could I had said at that point except for the fucking truth? I had seemed to curl into myself instinctively, and nodded a tad bit. "It was a long time ago," I had muttered.

Antonio had sucked in a deep breath, but had said nothing for a few seconds, he had just held me close and ran his fingers through my hair.

"Yeah I know I'm fucked up. Just say something bastard!" I had suddenly shouted, unable to handle his silence.

"May I see them?"

Fuck. I should had known he'd ask. Then again, it'd be better if he had seen them when he asked, instead of finding out while we had been making out or some shit like that. Cursing softly in defeat I had slowly stood up and unceremoniously removed my pants, sitting back down and burying my face in my hands. "There you fucking go." I hadn't wanted to see the same disappointed, hurt look that had passed over my brother's face when he had found out. What if he hadn't wanted to deal with some fucked up depressed freak? What if he hadn't wanted me? What if he had gotten up and walked out? What if he had hated me for hating myself?

"Lovi?"

I had barely heard him over my uncontrollable sobbing. I had been a fucking mess. Why would he had wanted me?

"Lovi, mi amor, look at me." I had shaken my head. Gentle hands had pushed my arms away and cupped my chin, tilting it toward him so that I had been forced to look into his pained green eyes. "I'm fucking sorry, alright?" I had spat out.

Antonio had wiped the tears away and kissed me softly. "Lovi, I'm the one who should be sorry for pushing you. We don't have to talk about this now."

"N-no. Let's just get it over with," I had sighed, guiding his hand to the numerous scars littering my thighs. I had ended up telling him everything, and much to my surprise he hadn't left or yelled or anything like that. All he had done was tear up a little. "Oh Lovi! I'm so sorry!"

"Why? You didn't even know me back then."

"But I could have! I could have met you before and I would have kept you happy and would have stopped you from hating yourself."

"You're the stupidest bastard I've ever met. I know you now, and..."

"What?"

"I said you fucking make me happy you little shit!"

"Awww! Lovi I love you too!"

"What are you thinking about?" Antonio asks me now, glancing at me curiously.

"Us." I clear my throat. "I mean, don't that I give a damn."

He blinks in surprise, then smiles and kisses my forehead. Stupid bastard can never keep his lips to himself. "Really? I've been thinking about us too!"

I roll my eyes. "You think?"

"Ouch...that's not nice mi tomate." He pouts like a five year old until I am forced- yes forced- to feel bad for him and peck his lips softly.

"Happy now?"

He smiles again and kisses me once more for good measure. "Sí! Lovi, you know how everyone's moving on with their lives? Francis and Arthur are moving, Feli and Ludwig are getting married, Gilbert's finally giving up on becoming a band leader."

"He's singing fucking sucked anyway."

"What about us, mi amor. What are our plans?" Antonio asks wistfully. "Well...after you graduate from FCAS that is."

I cross my arms over my chest. "I'm not going."

"WHAT?!" Antonio suddenly gasps and stares at me with wide green eyes. "Is this about my injuries? Lovi, I've recovered. You can barely even see my scars anymore and those headaches aren't so bad. Your dream was to go to Italy, remember?"

I shake my head stubbornly and grab his hands, squeezing them in encouragement. "Shit happens when we're away from each other," I mumble, feeling that familiar heat on my face. "I can go to a culinary school closer. I...I just don't want to fucking risk it again, dammit."

"Aww! You're so cute!" He coos stupidly and traps me in a tight embrace. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

I snake my arms around him and grab a fistful of his clothes, nodding into his shoulder. Hesitantly, I pull out of the hug and shoot him a questioning look. "Why did you bring up the whole plans for the future shit?"

He smiles nervously. "Oh. Um..." He is suddenly at a loss for words and shoves his hands into his pockets, making the cutest- I mean weirdest little facial expressions.

I literally force myself not to laugh at his antics as I raise an eyebrow. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Lovi, I know I'm not the smartest man around," he begins in a rush. "I know that oftentimes I miss the entire point or I'm oblivious to things that are right in front of my face. But I really love you with every single fiber of my body Lovi. You're so perfect and you're way too good for me, no matter how many times you deny it. You're beautiful, muy hermoso, you're so much smarter than me, you have so much talent and yet you're so insecure. I want you to know how much I love you, how I will always love you, and...and how I want to show you that I love you."

I want to ask him why the fuck he's being such an emotional creep, in fact he's even tearing up! What is going on with the bastard? Even as these thoughts are racing through my mind, Antonio is pulling a small black box out of his pocket. Wait...oh my fucking...

He smiles hopefully as he gracefully sinks to one knee, opening the box to reveal a damn ring. "Lovino Vargas, mi pequeño tomate, the love of my life-"

"J-just ask the fucking question, you bastard," I interrupt, my voice wavering as tears slip down my cheeks.

"My precious Lovi, will you marry me?"

There is so much love shining in those dancing green eyes, I know I sound like a hopeless little sap, but I think my heart is about to burst or something. Happiness doesn't happen to me, I'm never really happy. But then again, I was never supposed to love again, but this stupid little asshole somehow- "Lovi?" Antonio's voice sounds unsure now, worried. Ah shit. I wipe the stupid, pathetic tears off my face and smile.

"Of course I'll marry you...bastard."

A/N: *Wiping tears away* Well my faithful, amazing readers, it has come to an end. Believe it or not, this is a huge accomplishment for me. I rarely ever finish stories without getting sidetracked, or without my plot suddenly becoming something very different from what I first planned. But I've actually completed this! And wow, I never thought it would end up so well-received. Thank you all so much for putting up with me and this emotional rollercoaster of a story for...like six months. I love you all!

As for my future plans...hmmm… Well, this may have been my first Hetalia story, but it will not be my last, I promise. I am currently working on brainstorming for another story involving everyone's favorite BTT, and Spamano, and FrUk, and PruCan, and all those goodies! I was also asked to write a Dennor fic too, and I am so super excited about hunting down a plot for that, because I ship them almost as hard as I ship my kind of obvious OTP, which is Spamano of course. I have actually written a Spamano oneshot, which you are welcomed to check out if you desire.

So long! I do hope I shall hear from you lovelies again at some point in my writing career!

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