Locked Away (GerIta)

Chapter 45

Ludwig laid in his bed late one night, squeezing the cold metal tags in his hand. He paced the room, breathing a little constricted.

The German remembered his first day at a camp. 20 years old, fresh-faced, believed in whatever brainwash they'd flooded him with. He was a rookie.

Ludwig leaned against the wall, images and memories branding his eyelids, burning through his veins, choking his heart. He grit his teeth.

The small boy he shot at the fence. The pregnant mother he'd shoved into the chamber. The little girl who'd clung to his leg when she arrived.

Feliciano's scream as he watched a child's brain blown. At that stupid fence.

Ludwig gasped. It was all blood, grey matter, red, wide eyes, screams, pleads.

He screamed into gritted teeth. Blood-stained teeth, gashes slashed across necks, bullets ringing out.

Everything was so loud, Ludwig reached out and touched the cold fence, it was supposed to be electric. He got down as a bullet whizzed by his head. The dirt on the ground was kicked up into his teeth.

Hands on his face, shouting.

"Get off! No!" Ludwig thrashed on the bathroom floor, screaming, fist flying out and connecting.

He opened his eyes and sat up with a start. "Feli," he swallowed hard, looking at his split lip, blood dripping.

Feliciano winced and pressed his mouth to his sleeve. "You were screaming." He mumbled into his arm. "I thought someone broke in."

Ludwig took shaky breaths, he couldn't feel his fingers, flexing them to get the blood flowing back into them. "Sorry." He whispered.

Feliciano stood up and looked in the mirror, his lip swollen. He grimaced and took a step back when Ludwig stood up.

The German cautiously placed a hand on his neck, tilting his head up towards him. He leaned down and hesitated, looking into Feliciano's eyes.

The Italian nodded and closed his eyes, "Last time." He whispered.

Ludwig kissed him gently, feeling him flinch at the pain, he tasted blood. He lingered for a few seconds and then pulled back, gently wiping his thumb across Feliciano's bottom lip.

They'd kissed for the last time too many times to count by now.

~

Ludwig sat at the table and sighed, bottle neck frosting up at his breath and slowly disappearing. He looked at the caramel coloured liquor and rubbed his tired eyes.

Feliciano was working the late shift and Ludwig sat alone in the dimly lit kitchen as the burn of whiskey flooded his throat and quelled the ice in his veins.

The floorboards creaked when he stood and stumbled out of the chair, steadying himself with a hand on the kitchen counter. He left the half empty bottle on the table and groaned as he slowly made his way to his room.

Ludwig took the cloth out of his drawer and laid it atop his bed, turning to reach in the drawer and taking out the pistol. He sat on the edge of his bed and stripped the gun, wiping down every nook and cleaning out the barrel, meticulously scrubbing.

He did it over and over until he was satisfied that it would perform with military efficiency and accuracy.

And then he placed under the pillow opposite his own. Just in case.

~

Feliciano came home late and yawned as he walked in the door. He frowned when he saw the kitchen light on and went in to see if Ludwig was still up. He walked up to the empty table and pushed in the chair, sighing as he screwed the cap back on the bottle.