The Spaniard's mind was full of past memories as he metaphorically dragged himself to the roof. The past few days have been. . . hectic to say the least.

"Irmão," a pair of tired olive eyes turned to face the elder but much more lively pair: "I just want you to know I'm always going to be here for you, even if we are on opposite sides, Ok?"

This panicked Spain. Had Portugal figured out his façade? He better not have. However, if the Portuguese man had, Spain was in a shitload of trouble.

--
"Hey! Wanna go out for a drink later? It's on me!" Prussia declared, waving frantically. Sighing inwardly, Spain replied: "Si, I'd love to go"

Of course, he didn't really want to go. It was honestly to much work and effort, but, he had agreed. It'd be shame if he let everyone down again.

--
A killer hangover was one the only things that greeted Spain warmly that morning. His vision blurred everytime he moved his head. Not everything from last night's event was clear.

His hand covered the ugly scars that littered his lower arm instinctively. An all too familiar pressure built up behind his eyes, and tears started to fall.

--
So, fortunately for Spain, no one mentioned anything alluding to his hidden addiction. The Spaniard almost sighed out loud in relief when he arrived back in his hotel room. His unusually dull brown hair fell into the lethargic olive eyes that had now found residence.

He stumbled over to the ved and sat. He really didn't want to turn back to his vice to help him cope. Especially with only one day left on this Earth no less.

Now he was standing at the fence that seperated him from freedom. Gripping the cool metal, he swung his body over the fence. Well. . . not really swung, more like stepped over.

The wind lightly wipped at his hair, showing off the acceptance of this fate in eyes that once could hold life. It was oddly serene, even if Spain stuck his final goodbye onto the metal fence.

Due to the odd silence that surrounded the scene, Spain could hear each and every footstep that made contact with the stairs he just climbed.

"Irmão. . . what are you doing?"

"Please, step away. I wouldn't be able to live if you killed yourself too!"

Oh, it was those two. Portugal, his elder brother and Prussia, someone who was able to stay happy.

Spain let out a low chuckle, and the two newcomers dashed forwards towards the fence.

Spain then jumped.

---
So, after this the Reunited Arc will start next time I update.

So, what do you guys think happened to Spain? Do you think he's dead or do you think Portugal and Prussia managed to save him?

Also, can I quickly thank all of you for 200+ reads? I never expected so many people to read it if I'm being honest. I know 200+ reads isn't that many but it's a massive amount to me! Thank you all again!