The smell of the sea and blood filled the air. The boat rocked but he couldn't feel it.
He could however feel the long, thin blade in his hand its cold dead weight at his side blood dripped from it.

The man in front of him was a poor farmer from the nearby town. Apparently when Spain and his crew last visited the man was stuoid enough to tell the English navy. Now England was close on his damn tail.

Luckily for Spain his crew found the man and brought him aboard by the time they were leaving the colony. Now Spain was making the man pay slowly.

"You know I can't see why your wife doesn't like you." Spain said as he knelt down close to the young farmer.

"You're pretty strong to survive this long."

The man only glared at Spain.
The country had to admit the man was not bad looking. A sharp faced male with high cheekbones, dark skin, not to big of a nose, and dark brown eyes. He had a full head of long hair too.

"She was really sweet to my men. She told then that you turned us in. Then she went the extra mile and treated of my men to a nice 'shag' as yoh English say."

The man growled at Spain and the tried to lunge at the pirate man but when he found he couldn't he spat in the mans face.

Spain let out a dark chuckle.
"Now that wasn't very nice for me only telling you that your wife is a whore."

Spain kicked the man in the gut and then grabbed his dark hair to pull his head up so he could look at his eyes.
"Looks like I'll have to teach you manners."

Spain jolted up out of bed sweat rolled down his body as the rest of the memory came to his mind.
The man survived, his crew member came in to tell him that they needed to fight a fleet coming towards them.
Death would have been merciful though, the man lost his sight and use of his right arm.

Spain felt a shiver run down his spine. He knew a part of him might want to do those things again but another part felt sick with who he use to be.

He began to cry, not noticing the movement beside him until it was to late.

"What the hell Bastard" A grouchy voice said.

Spain looked over to see South Italy, his boyfriend awake looking up at him from where he was laying.

The Southern Italian got up once he heard his boyfriend crying. He sat up in the bed and brought his hand up to the older males face. Spain leaned into the touch as his Lovi wiped away his tears.

The younger male brouvht his hand up to the other cheek of the male cupping his boyfriends face in his hands.

"Nightmare?" Lovino questioned.
"A memory." Spain croaked out "From my pirate days."

The man withe the curl felt hus eyes widden and he then hugged his partner.
Spain hugged him back crying harder as Lovino began to rock him.

"It's okay now." Lovino began to say "You're okay now, it's the past. You're not that guy anymore."

"No." Spain sobbed into his partners shlulder, his hands turning into fists.
"I'm still him. I'm still a monster."

Lovino pulled back from the hug and took both of his lovers hands.
"No." The Southern Italian said with defiance
"You aren't. You are still my Spain. Even back then you were him, you're my sun in the sky. You are not a monster, you are a good man who has bad parts to him but you're so good Spain, you're a good country and a good man. That part of you may still be there but you don't act on it. If you honestly believe that you're still the man who did crazy shit then you're an insanely dumb bastard."
Spain smiled a bit from that.
"I promise you that I won't let you slip into that part no matter what happens."

Spain nodded feeling slightly comforted.
"Are you okay?" Lovino asked "Do you need water?"

Spain didn't even answer before Lovino was out of the rokm and back before a minute passed with a plastic red cup of water with ice.

He gave it to his boyfriend who took a sip, placed it in the nightstand beside his bed and then laid back down.

Lovino curled uo next to him, making sure the Spaniard's head was on his heart, hoping the beats would calm him.

Lovino began to softly sing an old spanish lullaby and slowly the two drifted to sleep. Spain forgetting about the nightmare and the trauma as he dreamed of a day that he spent with his Italian.