Grandpa grounded them both along with Antonio and Ludwig who had gone inside to explain. How they were under Roma's authority, Lovino didn't understand. As far as Grandpa was concerned, all children needed to be grounded after pulling such stupid stunts.
The two Vargas brothers were stuck inside for the last few days of their winter break. Feli seemed entirely bummed, but Lovino was worse off. He was miserable without that damned bastard around. The first day back to school came as a relief to him.
At least it did at first.
People were watching him as he walked down the halls. He didn't understand why. He was so used to blending it, remaining unnoticed. The stares from all of his peers left him wary and unnerved. Had someone seen him at the party? Had they seen Antonio carrying him out? Speaking of the bastard, he was nowhere to be found. Lovino had stopped at his locked before the first bell, and he had yet to see the curly haired soccer player. He had remained throughly out of sight while Lovino looked for him. There was no sign of the Spaniard.
Until Lovino turned to put his things away. He felt two muscular, strong arms surround him from behind. He shrieked quietly, cursing at Antonio. He was being far too bold in school. Lovino was sure he was getting stares from other students. Especially when he felt a pair lips touch his cheek. He blushed, pushing Antonio.
"Bastard, people are staring," he barked, his face red.
"I don't care what people think. If I want to hug my boyfriend, I can," Antonio mused, loud enough for people across the hall to hear.
Lovino could feel their stares. He didn't like it at all. He wanted them to go away. He wanted to fade back into existence, unnoticed. He knew it wouldn't happen. People were too concerned with their relationship.
The warning bell rang. Lovino took that as his chance. He pried himself away from the Spaniard, and darted down the hall, waving as he went.
The day went by at an agonizing rate. His classes were starting back on their normal routines of work. Math was the worst so far. Having a geometry teacher that didn't understand near death experience was difficult. The fact that he was in the hospital for a good hunk of break didn't phase the man. Not at all. He still expected his packet to be finished.
"You should have had it done before that," he chastised to a very embarrassed Lovino. "Or after. I'm sure you had time afterwards."
Lovino accepted the low grade for the few problems he had done. Grandpa could deal with that later, he supposed. After New Years, however, he wasn't sure how his grandfather would react.
His English teacher, however, showed him much sympathy. She was completely capable of understanding his predicament. She only asked that he finish reading the book by the following Monday. He could do that. Of Mice and Men was a small book. A week was plenty of time to finish it.
He had even gotten a pass to see the school Guidance Counselor. All the woman wanted to talk about was if he was okay after nearly drowning. She told him that if he ever needed anyone to speak to about it, he could come to her. He didn't plan on it.
The weirdest occurence he had had during his third hour science class was a few religious kids asking if he had seen heaven and what God was like. Lovino told them the truth; he hardly remembered. Still, while he sat in his seat, he got stares, even after the questions about him had ceased. Those stares bore into him.
Lunch wouldn't come fast enough. It was nearly the end of his fourth class of the day. Art, a class Feliciano always showed him up in. It seemed like he would never get to see Antonio, to rid himself of the stares, of the conversations of his near death experience.
Lovino didn't realize that's not only what the stares he was getting were for.
The Italian finally made I to the lunchroom after being berated with questions from a few of his afternoon teachers. He assured them he was fine. He just needed to sit down and eat. The attention he was being given by all of these damned people was strange. They never gave him a second glance before. Now he was all they seemed to talk about.
Lovino sank down into his seat at his usual table. Matt, Alfread, and Arthur were already there. Alfred was his usual loud self, and the other two sat quietly, reading. Lovino joined the silence party, relieved for that moment of quiet before Francis and Gilbert arrived. They'd just wreak havoc.
Lovino closed his eyes briefly, dreading their arrival. When he opened them again, he saw a tanned hand holding a tomato, only inches from his face. Lovino glanced a bit upward to see a smiling Spaniard in front of him. The smile was contagious. It quickly spread onto Lovino's lips as he took the tomato. Such a bastard, but he sure did remember things well.
"Do you want to sit outside today?" Antonio asked, his head cocked to the side. Lovino very hastily agreed, rising to his feet. He fled the cafeteria as quickly as he could without running, Antonio hot on his heels. The weather was cold, but sitting in the courtyard with someone he cared about left Lovino feeling warm. He locked his fingers with Antonio's and sat down on a dry bench. It was simple, but it was relaxing.
"Coach realized nearly his entire soccer team was gay today during athletic conditioning today," Antonio mused. "Ludwig, Francis, Gilbert, Alfred, Kiku, Berwald, Sadik, Herakles, and I make up nine out of the eleven players."*
Lovino raised a brow at Antonio. "He didn't realize Francis...?"
"No one could meet Francis and not realize he was gay, the French bastard."
Lovino snorted, shaking his head. That was only too true.
"How has your day been, Lovi?"
"Eh.. kinda shitty. Teachers ask if I'm okay... then I get stared at like I'm some magical phenomenon. I just want to go back to being unnoticed," Lovino muttered, his grip on Antonio's hand tightening. "Yours?"
"Halfway decent. I had a lot of boring start up work..." he mumbled, splitting his tomato with his thumbs. He gave half of it to Lovino and bit into the other.
Lovino sighed gently. These moments alone, together. They were what Lovino craved. The silent minutes when they could both enjoy they other's presence. They set Lovino at ease and made him feel a moment of relief in his whirlwind world. These moments held him together like the skin of a tomato held in the flesh, seeds, and juices. He didn't mention this to the boy beside him. He kept this analogy to himself. He safeguarded his thoughts. It might not have been best, but it was what he felt comfortable with. Telling Antonio could make things confusing or better. Lovino wasn't ready to risk it just yet.
The Italian bit into his half of the tomato. It was warm and sweet, as if it had been sitting in the pocket of Antonio's hoodie, collecting his body heat.
"Thank you," he said softly, a small smile finally creeping onto his lips.
~
It was finally the last class of the day. Finally. Lovino craved the day to be over, he craved his soft, warm bed. The first day of torture would soon be over... but he wasn't excited for this particular class. PE. Physical Education. Lovino was not athletic. He wasn't in shape. Sure, he was slender, but he couldn't run a mile to save his life. He could hardly lift more than fifty pounds total on the bench press. It was pathetic.
The first day back from vacation marked the part of PE that Lovino seemed to be dreading the most.
The swimming unit.
The Italian stepped onto the pool deck, towel folded against his chest. A few girls and boys sat around, their feet in the water; the class was co-ed. The only person he managed to recognize was a very out-of-place musician with glass. Roderich. He sat alone, his towel wrapped around him like a blanket. He seemed more confused and awkward that Lovino felt. He slowly crossed over to the Austrian and sighed.
"You seem out of it, too..." Lovino mumbled, standing next to him.
"I enjoy swimming. Just not with a load of barbaric boys and half nude girls. Look at them!" he said softly, his eyes wide with horror.
Lovino had very nearly the same thoughts. Hell, he didn't want anyone seeing him in a pair of swim trunks that hugged his rear end way too tightly. He sighed gently and sat on a bench lining one of the walls. Roderich sat down besides him just as their PE teacher walked into the room, Coach Flannigan. She was an older woman, but she wasn't a force to be reckoned with. Neither was her class assistant, the stunning beautiful yet ferocious, Charlotte... Lovino had never spoken to her or said a word to her. She had only shouted her demands at him. He didn't expect any difference today on her part.
"Listen up, everyone!" Coach yelled, gesturing for the students to sit on the benches beside Lovino and Roderich. "Today we're just going to test how well you perform in the water. If you think you can handle the deep end, then be my guest and go wait by the edge. I'll attend to you first. If you can't swim, well, I'll be teaching you how over the course of the next three weeks. Let's get to it!"
Lovino could swim. He knew how. He had learned as a small child with Feliciano and Grandpa. He easily sauntered over to the deep end. When he looked to see if Roderich had followed, he noticed the Austrian towards the shallows, his towel still wrapped tightly around his shoulder. He figured the Austrian couldn't swim then. Lovino shrugged lightly and waited for Coach to come back over to them. She started in alphabetical order. Lovino, sadly, was at the very end of that list. He wanted to get this over and done with. He sat along the edge, watching the other students swim across the pool with ease. He could tell some of these were on the swimming team the way they flaunted and showed off. Lovino, on the other hand, was average.
It finally came to his time in the water.
"Lovino Var-" she called, stopping mid-name. She looked up at him, her brows raised. "You sure you want to start at this end?"
Lovino could only assume she was referring to what had... Happened. He hesitated for a moment. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to get back in the water. Sure he could handle showers and his bathtub, but he had never gone swimming since then. He took a look at the people around him. They were staring. He could only assume it was because they, too, were curious about his decision. He furrowed his brow and turned back to Coach Flannigan. There was no way in hell that he was going to back out of this. He felt himself being challenged by their stares and their questions. He gritted his teeth before making his decision.
"I'll be fine. Just tell me when to go," he said, climbing onto the diving platform.
This was a time swimming challenge. He had to get from the deep end to the shallows. This was an ordinary, high school sized pool. It wasn't such a bad distance. He pulled his goggles on, snapping the elastic strap back against his school. He brought his hands to the edge and when the whistle was blown, he dove.
When the Italian first hit the water, he felt panic rushing at him from all sides. He was crazy, he was nuts. He shouldn't have been doing this, diving into the water like a complete idiot. No. This reminded him too much of drowning. He had drowned... The memories were shooting up everywhere. The dark, churning water. The tossing, forceful waves. Sinking, sinking, sinking down onto the depths of the ocean floor. God, no he couldn't handle it. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and he forced them open so he could swim back to the top.
There was a difference in this pool. It was light, calm, and warm. There wasn't cold water that clawed at his lungs, forcing away the deep breath he had taken only milliseconds before. This wasn't the ocean, forcing him under. Here he had so much control. He could make it, he was sure. He swam forward, ignoring the world above and the slight nagging in his lungs. He swam forward, waiting until he reached the line that divided the shallows from the deep end to surface. He then made a beeline for the end of the pool.
Lovino knew he was moving quickly. Even though this water wasn't going to kill him just by being in it, he still had that rising fear of drowning. The memories were strong enough to make him scared of being in it for much longer. He was so close. He made one last stroke with his arms and slammed his palm against the edge of the pool. He was done. He didn't need to swim anymore. He heaved himself out of the water, breathing heavily.
Coach stalked over to him and crouched beside him. He felt as though she'd berate him for some unknown reason. But she did the exact opposite. She slapped her palm against his soaked skin, giving him an encouraging smile.
"It takes guts to get back in the water after what you've experienced... I thought for sure I'd have to fish you out," she said softly, loud enough for only him to hear. "Good job kid..."
That was all she said. She left Lovino feeling elated and embarrassed. His elation was the pride she felt in him. The embarrassment was for her former lack of confidence. It didn't matter though. Lovino was safe on the edge of the pool where the water couldn't drown him. That was bad... He'd have a hell of a lot worse time when they began treading water... Or when the other students decided they wanted to play rough. Oh god, this was going to be a long course.
~
Lovino stood under the shower head in the locker room, letting the hot water pour down over his skin. The scent of chlorine had long since left him, but he still felt the drying grime of it. He lathered himself in soap for what seemed like the umpteenth time.
He was almost positive he was the last one in the locker room. The bell had rung nearly ten minutes ago. He finally felt safe to strip down out of his trunks. He let them slide down his wet thighs and hit the floor. His towel was nearby just in case anyone came in. He stood there for a few minutes longer, allowing the hot water to work its magic. This time to himself gave him time to think about more things than just the last hour of his life.
The class hadn't gone bad. Coach finished testing the rest of the kids while Lovino sat with Roderich who was absolutely petrified. The Austrian shouldn't have been worrying, though. He could swim. Well. He may have been thin, but there was a certain beauty about him that made the girls in the class stare. Lovino was sure Gilbert would have been jealous.
The Austrian swam the width of the pool with an ease and grace that made Coach test him from the deep end. Once again, Roderich swam with that beauty and grace. The girls swooned and the guys wretched. Roderich, on the other hand, let the water in a flourish, his face thoroughly flushed. At least he didn't get any inquiries on fear after his test.
Lovino had been asked by most every girl in the class whether or not he was scared getting back into the water. Whether or not he was going to drop the class. He murmured a few embarrassed replies, assuring them he was fine and that he was staying. He had one ulterior motive for keeping the class. He wanted to get into just a bit of shape before he found himself nearly naked in front of Antonio again.
Twice now Antonio had seen Lovino while he was out of shape. Twice he had seen his pitifully thin and muscleless body. Lovino was going to change that even if it meant he had to hit the school gym after school.
Lovino sighed. He had been standing under the water making his skin prune long enough. He turned off the water, rung out his semi-long hair, and wrapped his towel around his waist before venturing back to the cubicle where his gym locker was. No one was in the locker room, much to his happiness. He put in his combination on his locked and opened it. After letting his towel drop to the floor, Lovino pulled on his boxers.
That's when he heard it.
The laughter. It stilled Lovino and left him petrified. He didn't recognize the laughter, but the words that followed it were only too clear.
"Did you see that faggot Antonio was rubbing up on this morning?" one of the voices asked.
"Those damn gays need to learn that their place isn't in the middle of a school hallway. If they want to make out, they need to go crawl back home..." the other growled.
"I don't get how they can screw each other like that! Who wants to have a dick shoved up their ass?" the first asked.
Lovino tried not to listen as he scrambled to pull on his t-shirt. Oh, fuck. He could hear them coming closer, their raucous laughter coming nearer. He didn't want to be caught by them. Oh, God, he wanted to hide. They were just outside his little cubicle when they stopped talking abruptly. Oh God, they had seen him.
"Speak of the devil, it's the little fag that's distracting Antonio... Probably stayed back hoping to see some of the swimming team while they're changing, I bet," the second boy said.
"Such a little faggot..." the first grumbled, taking a menacing step towards Lovino.
The Italian back against the lockers. He was cornered. He couldn't get away. There was nowhere to run. He was cornered like a man in a lion's den.
"You think we should put him in his place?" the first boy asked.
"I think a bit of a beating could knock the gay out of him... Hell, if it doesn't, it'll show him not to try and screw around with any of the guys here..."
Lovino was in a panic, but they came at him so quickly. He got a punch to the stomach and then a knee to his nether regions. He sank to the floor, the urge to vomit rising instantly. He curled himself into a ball on the floor, protecting his head while the kicked him over and over. Ribs, back, legs, stomach. Ribs, back, legs, stomach. Their abuse seemed to last so long. Lovino could feel the bruised and cuts forming on his skin, but he didn't cry out for help. He knew no one was in the locker room to hear him. Someone would have heard the taunts and stopped this before it began if there had. He felt as though he was going to die. He was out of breath from the constant kicks to his ribs. The pain was everywhere. He was sure at least one or two of his bones has snapped. He was in pure agony.
And then it stopped. The boys left, leaving him with their spit on his face and bruises all over his body. When he heard the locker room door open and then close with their fading laughter, then and only then did Lovino allow himself to let out a breathless sob. The pain was excruciating and he felt as though he could hardly move. He didn't want to. He couldn't even bring it in himself to finish getting dressed. He just lied there in a fetile position, tear pooling down his cheeks. Taking a breath hurt. The sobs that wracked his chest hurt. Dashing the tears from his eyes hurt. Everything hurt.
When the door of the locker room opened, and Lovino feared that they were back for more. He silenced himself, hoping they didn't come back to check, praying they hadn't brought friends. Lovino wasn't prepared for the soft, worried tone that came from not too far away.
"Lovino?" called a lilting Spanish voice. Oh, God, Antonio. Lovino let loose another sob, this one audible enough for the other male to hear. The next time Antonio spoke, his voice was full of alarm and apprehension. "Lovi?"
The Italian heard fast footsteps coming towards him. He cracked his swollen eyes open to see Antonio right at the entrance of the small cubicle. His green eyes were wide with alarm. He dropped down next to Lovino, stammering things rapidly.
"Oh, dios mio! Oh, dios mio!" Antonio rambled, his hands shaking.
He wiped Lovino's tears from his eyes, kissing his cheeks gently. He then looked over the small, bruised Italian. Lovino saw Antonio's green eyes physically darken. Lovino felt an ounce of fear rising in his gut. He had never seen the Spaniard look so angry.
"Lovino, when I find out who did this to you..." he whispered before fishing his cell phone from his pocket. He dialed a number in his phone and waited while it rang. When the person he called answer, Antonio was clipped and cold. "Gilbert? No. I don't want to go drink with you. Gilbert- Oh, holy hell, Gilbert! Will you let me speak? Gilbert! Get the damned Principal, a Dean, security. Bring them to the boy's locker room. Tell them it's an emergency! Don't ask me why! God, dammit Gilbert! Just do it!"
Antonio hung up the phone, but Lovino was too delirious from pain to care. His tears had stopped, but his breathing was still too labored. He had not asked for this. This was not something he had brought upon himself. He just wanted the pain to go away. He didn't want to see that worried look on Antonio's face anymore. He didn't want to see his hidden anger...
Lovino felt a sense of relief when Antonio draped his shirt over his waist just as the school administration stampeded into the room. Antonio left Lovino's side for only a moment to call them over. Lovino looked up at the Principal and the Dean with pained, brown eyes. They looked back at him with eyes wide and full of shock. Gilbert stood on the outside, his features shocked. The Principal knelt down beside him, his eyes full of worry.
"Who did this to you?" he asked, his hand floating in the space between Lovino's head and the Principal's own side. He seemed unsure if he should touch Lovino. He didn't allow Lovino to reply to his question; he couldn't have anyways without speaking in strangled gasps. "Someone call an ambulance, the police, his guardian. Gilbert, quit smiling because you did something right for once. You can have out of your detention Thursday."
Antonio pulled out his phone and called Roma. Lovino couldn't bear to hear the sadness in Antonio's voice as he spoke to his Grandfather. He could only imagine his Grandfather's tone. Lovino couldn't bear any of it... He lay there waiting, pained, hurting, wanting it to all go away.
The ambulance came. Paramedics lifted Lovino onto a stretcher, straightening out his curled limbs. The pain was horrible. His ribs were for sure cracked, at least fractured. Lying on his back offered him a little more breath, but not much. He felt his consciousness drifting in and out as he was led out into the bright light. His last sight as he was ushered into the ambulance was Antonio's distraught face and anguished, angered green eyes. The doors closed, and Antonio was left standing there, watching, hoping his little Italian would be alright.
~
Antonio heard snickering as the ambulance pulled away. He heard laughter and snide comments about gays and faggots learning their place. Antonio felt a rage flare inside of him as he turned to face two boys. They held themselves with such a cocky superiority. It made Antonio sick.
Before the Spaniard realized what he was doing, he was on the boys, holding them inches above the ground by the collars of their shirts against the brick wall of the school. His green eyes blazed with fury. They gazed down at him with horrified expressions. Surely they expected as much, didn't they?
"You hurt him, didn't you?" he snarled through gritted teeth. He pulled them away from the wall and slammed them back into it. "Tell me, now!"
The boys stammered out their responses, denying it all. Antonio didn't buy it. He saw the guilt in their eyes. He snarled again, looking at the males dead in the eyes.
"You beat the living crap out of a sixteen year old kid because why? Because he was gay, a 'faggot'?" he snarled, his eyes alive with malice and fury. "Gays are real people, too. We may be different, but we still feel pain. We still feel hurt. We still feel a damn kick to the ribs and spit on our faces." Antonio felt a presence behind him that he could only assume was Gilbert. He could only imagine his friend's face at that very moment. "If I ever see you near him, if you ever even think about laying another finger on him, I will find you and I will kill you. A Spaniard's promise is his word. Don't make me follow it."
Antonio dropped the two boys and backed away from the two. Gilbert stepped up, but Antonio did not see what he did. He could only imagine that there was blood. Antonio sucked in a breath, reliving the sight he had just seen over and over in his heard. His Lovino, his poor Italian... Bruised like an apple, softly spots of damaged pulp littering his skin. Lovino did not deserve this. He didn't deserve to be treated like crap. Antonio sucked in a tight breath, and for the first time in a long time, he cried. He let his tears run free down his cheeks from his emerald eyes.
The only reason her cried: He could not protect the boy he loved from even the kids at school. If he couldn't do that, how was he supposed to protect him through sickness and in health? Was it through death that they'd finally part? And would it all be Antonio's fault?
*Kiku: Japan, Berwald: Sweden, Sadik: Turkey, Herakles: Greece, Charlotte: Belarus