Romano's Turtle Travesty

*Read the description below, there is a picture/drawing from a fellow deviantART member that goes along with the short story.*

Little Spain was playing in his room. He had acquired some brand new pet turtles that his father allowed him to have, but they needed to stay in their tank, otherwise the boy would have them taken away. Antonio watched as the little green creatures would swim around the tank, and eat little bits of food. He giggled, and smiled, waving at his new little friends. There were four turtles in all, and the boy would need to work on the names. This needed some serious thought, and he thought the one person that was smart enough, and he looked up to so much was his father. His eyes lit up, and bidding goodbye to his friends for the moment.

He walked out of his bedroom, and ran down the hallway, and down the steps. His father, Romano was in the drawing room, sitting on the couch. He was on the phone speaking with some other nation, and was deep in talk. Running full force, the boy's little feet padded down the hall, past several rooms, and looking into each of them. Once he heard the nation talking, he got excited, and approached the room.

"Si, Si…I'a understand. Well what'a do you want'a from me? I have a' crap load of work'a to get done. Si', the little one'a is in his room, playing with'a his turtles.  Si', I know, I caved.  So'a anyway, what'a do you suggest we do about…" The nation was interrupted by a loud eruption of squeals of laughter.

"Papi, Papi! You have to come…please help me. I have to name my…" The boy was silenced by his father glaring back at him, putting a finger to his mouth.

Spain knew the importance of a phone call, but he would sometimes forget. He always seemed to get excited and need to tell his father something when the nation was on the phone. This moment of silence only lasted a little while, as the five year old boy had a short attention span.

"Well'a the thing is, I still need'a to see about the transaction. So'a  meeting in couple of'a days is most anticipated. Do you'a suppose you'a can come here, or should I travel…"

"PAPI…Papi? I need help naming my turtles…can you come to my room?" The boy stood looking cute and innocent, as he always did. Romano stopped talking and looked over to the child and gave him a glare.

"Antonio…you need'a to be patient, and'a be quiet while I am'a on the phone. I will'a be right with you. Okay Piccolo?"

"But…but Papi?" The child did not want his father on the phone anymore, he just wanted the nation to help him. It didn't matter what was going on in Romano's life, as long as the boy was right there, Spain believed it was his right to be top priority.

Shaking his head, the elder nation knew he was not going to be rid of the child. He ended the phone call, and sighed, getting up from the couch. Holding out a hand, he looked down to the boy with a tired smile.

"Alright'a you…I suppose'a I will have'a to finish the phone business later. So'a I will'a see what you need you little scamp." He reached down, and put the little boy over his shoulder, hauling him out of the room.

Spain giggled, and kicked his little legs. Italy reached his hand, and tickled at the boy, making him even more hysterical.

"Ahhhh….ahhh…stop it, stop it. Hahahaha! You are going to make me fall Papi!" He was laughing so hard now.

Romano climbed the steps, and they arrived in the boy's bedroom. Setting the child down, Spain ran over to the tank, and peered inside. All the turtles were pretty much doing the same thing as before when he left them. Italy walked over and looked to the little green critters swimming around, and doing turtle things. He slightly laughed, and looked down at his son.

"Okay'a then. So'a what did you'a want me to help'a you with my little boy?"

Antonio watched the turtles a little more, and then looked up at his father. He was eager because he had so much to say, but as soon as he opened his mouth, nothing came out. He had to think for a moment, but then looked up.

"Um…Papi? I need help naming my turtles. Can you help me?" His little arms reached out, and he tried to jump up, getting to the tank. Romano leaned down and slightly smirked.

"Naming your'a turtles. Oh little one…I do have'a  lot of work to do. And'a just don't have'a the time. Is there'a anything else you want? I am'a sorry little one." He pat the child on the head, and Spain looked up at his father, heart broken.

"Um…well…" The little one's eyes started to water slightly, and he knew his father was busy, he just assumed so. Biting back his lip, he looked up. "Can we make beds for the turtles? Look at them, sleeping on rocks, they need something comfortable Papa! You know…like your bed, or my bed?"

Romano stood up, and walked towards the door, and looking back and shaking his head.

"Your'a turtles don't need beds. Not'a mine, nor yours. They are'a perfectly happy in their aquarium tank. Now, Papi has'a to go and get'a some work done. Play'a in your room, and then you and I will have a little lunch. I will'a make sure to prepare something delicious." He smiled to the boy, and Antonio looked over to his father with wide eyes.

"Papi? You are going to make something? Wow! I am so excited!" He jumped up and down. The turtles felt the bouncing, and looked to the boy. Romano saw this, and chuckled.

"Si' Si' little one. I will'a make'a something very good. Now'a behave yourself and play nice. I will'a come and get you when I am ready, okay?"

Spain nodded his head, and watched his father walk out of the room. Once the elder nation was gone, the little one pressed his little face against the tank, and his breath fogged the glass. He just stared at all of them, and sighed.

"My little friends…I will make sure you have a comfortable place to sleep. Papi says you can't have a bed, but I will find something." He tapped on the glass, and then walked away waving to them.

The child was great about passing the time, and he walked over to his toy chest, and heaved it open. He grabbed at some puzzles, and played for a little while with creating a small masterpiece. Once that was boring to him, he walked over to some wooden blocks and started building some structures. He was getting hungry and wondered when his father was going to be done making something to eat for the two of them.

Spain had walked down from the stairwell, and walked towards the kitchen. It was the weekend, so he had the kitchen staff take the afternoon off, as he sometimes like to create his own cuisines. Though his staff were wonderful cooks, little Spain liked what his father would cook, being that the Italian meals were always delicious. He arrived to the kitchen, and decided on some pesto with some linguini. He walked over to the refrigerator and took out some pine nuts, and basil. Taking his prized bottle of olive oil his brother Feliciano purchased for him, he added the ingredients together mixing them well so it formed into a green paste like substance. Setting that aside, he took to making the pasta, which of course was always by hand. This would take a little while, but it was alright since he was making it for his precious little one. Little Spain however had gotten bored, and wandered out of his room, and strolled down the steps and found himself into the kitchen where his father was cooking. The elder nation did not see the boy and continued kneading the pasta dough. He had set a large pot on the stove filled with water set to boil. Turning around to set a flame under it, he turned back around, only to gasp seeing little Spain standing at the counter, poking at the dough. Romano quickly grabbed the boy, and planting a little swat to his backside, he gave him a little stern telling off.

"Antonio! Always a' getting under foot. Go, please. Go back'a to your room. Play'a with your toys, or turtles, Papa is a little too a' busy, and you are going to pester me."

Little Spain yelped a little at the swat, and as he was moved, he pouted, because he only wanted to be with his father, and it just so happened that the nation was busy, but the little one was always wanting to help.

"But…but Papi, I wanna stay, please Papi, please?"

"No, go'a upstairs, and I will'a call you when I…" The elder nation was cut off, as this answer was not what little Spain wanted, and the child suddenly got down on the floor crumpling up into a little fit.

"Buuuuuuuuuuut Papi! I want to stay here!!!" He made his little hands into fists, and was now doing what most youngsters did when they didn't get their way, and started fake crying. "Aghhhhhhhhh Papi is mean…and, and aghhhh haaaaaa haaaaa!" The little one was ruining his clothing. Wiping his flour stained hands to his side, Romano then crossed his arms over his chest, and cleared his throat.

"Antonio Fernández Carriedo! You'a get up from that'a floor right now, or I'ma going smack'a your little bottom!"

The little nation continued crying and having an awful fit. Romano then started to roll back his sleeves, in preparation of handing out a spanking. Upon seeing this, little Spain looked up, and his eyes widened, and he quickly got up, covering his little backside, and biting back his lip.

"No! No Papi…I don't wanna 'pankin!" His eyes then started to well up with real tears, and Romano saw this.

"Alright then…but if you'a cause a scene like'a that again, I'ma going to be a' very upset."

Nodding his head, the little child walked over to the table hoisting himself up, and just stared at the nation with pouty eyes. Lovino could not take that little sad face, and he just smiled and shook his head.

"Alright, little one, I'ma sorry I scolded you. You can'a keep me company, though lunch will not be ready for a little while. In the meantime, why don't you tell me more about your turtles. Did you feed them yet?" His eyes wavered to the pasta that he was forming from the dough, and then he looked back to the boy.

"Um, well no Papi I…" He did not keep eye contact with the elder nation, and Romano sighed.

"Go back'a to your bedroom, and'a give your turtles something to eat. You wanted them, and'a it is your responsibility young man. You don't'a see me forgetting to feed you now…"

"Papi? Do I hafta now? You are going to be done with the pasta, and I want…"

Spain just looked to the boy, and raised an eyebrow. The little one needed to understand that if he was going to have a pet, he needed to take care of them properly.

"Now Antonio, because'a if you don't'a feed them, then I am'a going to take them away, and give them to some other Bambino who will'a love them." Romano just looked to the child who's eyes grew very wide, and he got up from the table.

"Aghhh…no, no Papi, you can't take my friends away!" The little one quickly ran down the hall, and up the stairs towards his bedroom.

Romano just laughed, and shook his head, now running the finished dough through the pasta maker, making thin sheets which he would then cut into strips. Antonio ran up to his bedroom, and looked over to the tank in which his green friends were. They hadn't done much, just floating, and sitting on the rocks. He grabbed the food that Romano had purchased in the town, and sprinkled some in the tank. He watched eagerly as the little creatures inched their way, and ate the food. Spain was always so excited to watch, and this was a past time that was never tiring. He continued to watch, and some time watched, and he heard Romano calling him from the bottom of the stairwell.

"Antonio? Antonio…little one, lunch'a is ready, so you'a wash'a your hands after feeding your friends. Then'a come downstairs to eat!" The nation walked back, and prepared the plates, setting them on the table.

Hearing his father's voice, little Antonio ran to the washroom, and hurried with the washing of his hands, running them through water, and getting very little soap on them. Once he was done, he wiped his hands on his little red tunic, and seeing as his turtle friends were fine, he ran down the stairs, getting down quickly to the dining room. However upon his arrival, he tripped on the last stair, and wound up falling to the ground, landed on his knees, and slapping his palms on the ground. He couldn't even understand what had really happened until he opened his mouth, and let out a mind numbing scream.

"PAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPIIIIIIII!!!!" The little one cried out, while slapping his hands down, and crying his little eyes out.

Romano who had only really just called the boy down, panicked as he heard the screams come from the other room, and he ran to where it was calling out. He arrived in the foyer where the little one was laying, and got down on his knees, holding his arms out to the boy, pulling him up, all the while trying to hush the wee little nation.

"Che? Seriously little one. Are'a you trying to give'a me a heart attack?" The elder nation lifted the boy up on his feet, and while Spain stood there crying, Romano expected an answer. "Little one…didn't'a I tell you that you'a would hurt yourself by running down'a the stairs?" He shook his head, but reached out a finger, wiping some of the tears away.

Spain wiped his nose and nodded. He looked down, and noticed that while he thought it was pretty serious that he fell, his knees were clean, and he had not cut anything.

"I'm okay Papi, I am okay…"  He sniffed again, and looked up to Romano holding out his hand. The elder nation took his child's hand, and nodded.

"Alright'a then…come'a inside, and we will eat'a some lunch. After'a lunch little one, I need'a to have a meeting, and I will'a be on the phone with your'a uncle Feliciano. You'a need to find 'a something else to do alright?"

The boy nodded, and the two walked into the dining room. The plates were set, and the pasta with steaming with the delicious smell of the pesto sauce that slathered the noodles. Spain was put into his chair, and a napkin was put on his lap, because the child always got something on his outfit. Romano then walked to his own seat, and sat down. He smiled at the boy who's eyes were popping out of his head.

"Well don't'a just look at it Piccolo, go'a ahead and eat." He picked up his own fork, and twirled the pasta, dripping with the green sauce. Putting it to his lips, he made little sounds of his enjoyment. Spain looked over at him, getting excited, and picked up his own fork.

"Yay Papi!" The child scooped up his noodles, and put some to his mouth. He got as much as he can into his mouth, stuffing his cheek. Munching, he made little noises just like the elder nation, and he smiled. Swallowing some, he looked over and nodded his head. "Yummy, this is sooooo yummy!"

Romano was glad for this. Spain was not a picky eater, so he continued to eat. He was sure that the little boy might be tired after a full stomach. As the last remaining bits of the pasta disappeared from both plates, the elder nation saw that his little one was getting slightly drowsy. He stood up and grabbed the plates, and walked towards the kitchen setting them in the basin. Walking back to the dining room, he saw that the little nation was slumped over in the chair. He grabbed up the boy into his arms, and with Antonio laying his head on his father's shoulders he closed his eyes, but every now and then he would open them, but then close them again.

The two nations arrived upstairs, and instead of walking to the boy's room, Romano walked past the room, and headed down towards the Master suite. He knew the boy loved being in his father's large bed, and walking over to it he gently laid the child down. Antonio being set down, opened his eyes, and yawned, holding out his little hand, and Romano took it.

"Mmmmm…Papi…can you stay here with me…and…*yawn* wait till I sleep and…mmmm…" The child's eyes shut fully, and he laid his head to the side, snoring fully.

Italy looked down, and while sitting on the bed, leaned in and kissed the boy's forehead. He then pulled a blanket over the little nation, and laid next to him, making himself comfortable. He would only stay for a moment while the child was deep in sleep. The bed though was very comfortable, and sometimes Romano did not want to get up, but he had some work to take care of. He waited until he heard the heavy breathing from the boy, and quickly got up, walking out of the room, and closing the door. Romano walked down to his office, and closed the door. He arrived at his desk, and dialed his brother's line, getting right into a slight quarrel as the two started ripping into each other in rapid Italian, getting one's point across to one another. It would be a long after noon.

Little Spain slept, and had the most wonderful sleep, since he was in his father's bed. He rolled around, while he snored, and after a few hours, he was refreshed and leaned over on the side, looking around the bed. Squishing the mattress with his hand, he got a little idea in his head. The elder nation's bed was so large, and very comfortable.  Perhaps maybe since the bed was so large, his father wouldn't mind sharing the bed with his little friends. He wouldn't even know they were there. He pulled aside the blanket, and got down from the large bed. Leaving his father's room, he ran down the hall and arrived at his own. Whenever the little one would leave his room, he was always happy to be back. His turtles were doing pretty much the same thing they had been doing, and he ran to the tank, tapping it slightly.

"Hi friends! I was sleeping in Papi's bed. Oh it is so comfortable, and I think it would be perfect for you to sleep in. Papi doesn't take up the whole bed, so you guys can have one side, and he will have the other!!!" The little boy was so excited.

The turtle tank was set on a wooden table, so he could not reach it by himself. He looked over to the corner of the room where his time out stool was sitting, and he ran over to get it. Being in time out was the worst, well besides getting spanked. His father had made sure to put a time out stool in his bedroom, and one in the kitchen, and several in other rooms. The little boy knew his place when he acted up. He grabbed the little stool, and took it over to where the tank was. Steeping onto it, he then hoisted himself up, and leaned into the tank. He would not be able to get all the turtles out together, so he would have to do it one, by one. He grabbed the first one, who by the looks of the creature did not want to be taken from its home, and it wiggled, but Spain hushed it, and ran out of his bedroom, running down the hall towards his father's. Arriving, he walked over to the bed, and placed the little green turtle on the mattress. It walked around, not really sensing difference, but there was no water. Seeing that that was done, the little nation ran back to his bedroom to get the others.

Meanwhile down in his study, Romano was still having the conversation on the phone. He was getting frustrated and annoyed. The two were literally night and day, but sometimes they did the same silly things. Too many times was Italy getting involved with Germany, and Romano did not like that nation at all. He swore at the nation, and wanted his brother to have a better life, but in all reality, Germany was very good to Feliciano. The conversation still carried on. With his little one taking a nap, he did not have anything really to worry about.

Setting the last turtle into the bed, Spain smiled, and then looked over to the blanket, and put it over the turtles. He fluffed up a couple of pillows and made the bed as comfortable as could be. He was now happy that his little friends were going to be just fine. He watched them for a moment, and then walked back to his bedroom, and started to play with his toys.

"Si', Si', Feliciano! Bene! I want'a see you happy. But, Si'…no, you cant'a say such things. Ugh…no, no…he'sa upstairs, sleeping in'a my bed. Pasta…Si' of course. I gotta go…Si', come'a over next'a week. Mmm hmmm…Si' Addio!"

Sighing Romano hung up the phone, and stood up from his seat. He walked around the desk, and walked over to a decanter of some delicious red wine, and poured himself a glass. This was such a tiring argument he had with his brother. He sipped from the glass, and then wondered if his little one was awake yet. Perhaps they would cook some dessert together, or did some other fun activity. It would be a wasted day to sit around doing nothing, and the elder nation needed to get his mind off a few things. He walked out of the study, after finishing his wine, and walked up the stairs towards his own bedroom. Upon walking in, he looked over to the bed, and had he looked more closely, he would have noticed that the pile was not even close enough to resemble the looks of a small boy. There was something small there, but clearly not a child. Smiling, Romano did not want to want the little one, and he sat down on the bed, and laid down, setting a hand down.

"How is Papi's little tyke? Are you'a done sleeping my child?" He rubbed the pile that was supposedly the child, and had any other adult nation been there, they would have had some sense.

As he did this, the pile of blankets were moving, and Romano's hand rubbed over a certain spot, and he felt a little clamp down on his hand through the fabric. His eyes widened and he shouted out loud.

"AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH OWWWW…OWWWWWW! Madre di Dio!" The elder nation pulled away, wincing and with tears in his eyes, he put his hand into a fist, and moaned.

Down in his bedroom, little Spain heard the shouting from where his father's suite was, and his eyes popped open, and he stood up smiling.

"I wonder if Papi noticed my pet turtle farm in his bed?" The child was so excited to see his father, and to tell him that the ran down the hall, and stood by the doorway that lead into the Master bedroom. He looked to see the older nation, but the man was not happy. "Papi?"

Italy still looking at his hand, he then threw aside the blanket, and looked down to see all the little turtles, the little friends of his son. The very little friends that the elder nation told his little one that they did not need a bed to sleep in. He turned over to see the little one standing in the doorway, and giving his attention to the boy, he completely ignored the little creatures in the bed. Leaning forward while still on the bed, he gave the boy a come hither motion.

"Antonio…come'a over here this'a instant!"

This was not a happy motion for the little one to come over. Spain's eyes became pouty and he pulled at the bottom of his tunic and fidgeted with it. He slowly shuffled his feet, and walked over, breathing fast, and hiccupping.

"Papi?" His large green eyes looked to the amber eyes of his father. They were angry. Romano stood up, and had not noticed that the little turtle friends of his son had clamped down on his jacket, and sleeve. Spain saw this and had to hide a smile.

"Papi told you'a that your turtle friends were'a not to sleep in'a the bed. I told'a you, and you'a did not listen…" He walked forward, but felt something hanging off him, and turned to look at his jacket, and then scoffed, looking back to the boy. "Damn creatures!"

Spain giggled, and looked to see that his pets were not happy with the way the elder nation was scolding their master, so they needed to do something.

"Papi…they needed a bed, and they needed to sleep! And look! They don't like you scolding me!" The little nation said this last bit with a foot stomp, and this set Romano off.

"You don't'a talk to your'a Papa like that Bambino!" And with that, the elder nation grabbed up Spain, and held him under his arm, unleashing some very hard smacks to the little nation's rear end.

Spain couldn't say he didn't see this coming, and flailed his arms, and burst into tears when the second smack fell upon his little bottom. His father continued, and the turtles stayed where they were trying to stop Italy.

"When'a I tell you something *smack*, you'a listen to what'a I say…now'a you will get a' spanking for disobeying you'a Papa! *smack."

As each swat landed down, Spain kicked his feet back and forth and his howls got louder and louder. He was so unhappy, and so upset that he was being punished. Lovino gave the boy several more slaps, and then set the crying little boy down. He then grabbed the turtles into his hand, and leaving the sobbing boy there, he walked back to the child's bedroom and put all the green animals back in their tank. Walking back to his own bedroom, he grabbed Antonio's hand, and walked him down towards the kitchen. He took the boy over to his little corner stool, and sat him down. The boy grimaced a little, as the hard wood made it painful on his back end.

"Now'a you will sit there for'a five minutes. If'a you move, you'a will go to'a bed!" He wavered a finger, and sniffing back many of his tears, Spain nodded and just rubbed at his eyes.

"O-Okay Papi…" His lower lip pouted out, and he was now very unhappy. He watched his father walk over to the sink and clean the dishes that were from lunch.

Once he was done, he then walked over to the counter, and stood by it, crossing his arms over his chest, giving the child a stern gaze. he would wait the full five minutes, and watched. The child just sat there, sniffling, and keeping his head down, as he did not want to see the angry stern face of his father. Now feeling slightly compassionate and cleared his throat.

"Antonio…come'a over here to me please…" He knelt down, and held out his arms. He knew that a loving embrace always made the child feel better after a spanking. Little Spain got up and ran over to his father. Romano wrapped his arms around the child, lifting him up, and embracing his little backside. Holding him while swaying back and forth, and kissing the top of his head. "You'a know better than'a to do naughty things, and a' yes, that'a was naughty. Is my little one alright now?" He wiped a tear away, and Spain nodded his head.

"Yes Papi…I am sorry…and…and I won't do it again." He snuggled into Romano's neck, and cried, still feeling the sting of the punishment. With a few more cuddles and kisses, Romano set the little one down, and nodded to him.

"Alright little one. Come…Papa will make you'a some Churros. Is'a that what you want?"

Spain's eyes grew large, and he nodded his head. Though it was not a typical food of his father, the elder nation still liked to prepare it. Setting the child down, Romano walked over to the counter and prepared the ingredients. He would occasionally look over to his little one while he cooked, and in a little while longer the treats were done, and he walked over to the table, and sat down on a chair. Antonio pouted a little, and got down from his chair, and walked over to his father. He held out his arms, and seeing this, the nation pulled the boy into his lap, and the two ate the dessert happily, and as messy as could be.

"Thank you Papi!"

"Anything'a for my little 'Tonio…" Romano kissed the top of the boy's head, and the two continued eating an unhealthy amount of the sweets.