"It's so good to see you again Feli." the Italian's friend, and his brother's partner, said with a warm smile; he sat down opposite Feliciano beside Romano after a good few minutes of the three of them embracing tightly with tearful eyes.
Feliciano managed the tiniest of smiles as he tentatively seated himself opposite in the uncomfortable plastic chair. "You too..." he murmured softly.
"You look well." The Spaniard kept his reassuringly composure as he spoke but there was definite concern in his eyes.
"Bullshit." Romano spat beside him, taking in the sight of his brother. The small Italian looked even skinner than usual, his orange jumpsuit was practically hanging off him; there were dark, grungy circles beneath his dull eyes, as if all the life had been sucked out of him. "He looks like he hasn't eaten in days."
"Lovino..." Antonio said gently, placing a hand on his knee.
"Be honest Feliciano, are they starving you in here?" Romano demanded, leaning across the table; Feliciano could see some distinct worry and frown lines embedded in his brother's face that hadn't been there previously. "Because I'll take them to court if that's the case!"
Feliciano shook his head, tucking his hands between his knees. "No, fratello really they don't starve me...I've been okay." he reassured him, despite only half of that statement being true.
For the past week and a half pretty much the only thing that had kept Feliciano going was the thought that he would eventually get a visit from his brother and Antonio. Inmates seemed to be kept in the dark about the days when visitors were allowed to see them; the first Feliciano had heard of it was the night before when he overheard a couple of Italian mobsters discussing the visits they were going to have from their wives the next morning. Arthur had woken him at the usual time and after breakfast he, as well as about half the prison population of block D, were taken to the visiting room.
Each block had their own days for when visitors could come and see their friends and relatives on the inside. The visiting room was a large, rather brightly lit room on the upper floor of the prison. Inmates were given a number before they were allowed in, where they would find the table with the matching number on it and wait for their visitors to be let in through the adjacent door on the other side of the room. The vast space was crammed with about a hundred tables, four chairs sat around each one.
Despite how miserable and depressed he'd been whilst he was in here; Feliciano was almost verging on ecstatic when his brother's face had appeared in the doorway after he'd been searched by the guards and let into the visiting room. Now here they were, sat around one of the circular tables in the middle of the room; they were surrounded by other block D inmates with their own visitors, however the familiar face of Ludwig was nowhere in sight.
"So what's it like in here Feli?" Antonio asked, trying to lighten the mood. "Is it true about the soap in the showers?"
"Antonio!" Romano growled harshly, giving him a sharp clip around the ear.
Feliciano smiled weakly. "They don't use bars of soap, there's gel...probably so that stuff doesn't happen..." he muttered, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.
Romano's brow creased with concern. "Nothing has happened has it?" he asked seriously, reaching out a hand to grab his brother's shoulder. "No one been giving you any trouble?"
Feliciano bit his lip, avoiding Romano's eyes. "I'm fine..." he muttered softly, gazing across the both of them with a sigh. "...miss you guys though."
Antonio looked at him sadly, "We miss you too; Vargas' Place just hasn't been the same without you."
"We're still working on your case." Romano said firmly, leaning low towards his brother across the table. "We've been to see the parole officer and I even sent a letter to the Japanese guy's family asking them to appeal your innocence."
Antonio nodded, looking slightly awkward. "Sí...and I had to re-write it to take out all the swearing..."
Romano glared at him, "Well they shouldn't be so stupid to think that my brother could do anything like that!" he snapped at his partner. "They saw him at the trial, how shaky and terrified he was, how the hell can they think a guy like that could have attacked anyone?"
The Spaniard sighed softly, gently patting his knee. "Lovino the justice system can't be biased based on someone's appearance..."
"Bullshit." Romano glowered. "They just have it out for him."
Antonio smiled sadly at the Italian opposite them, he was keeping unusually quiet and Spain couldn't help but notice the way his eyes occasionally flittered anxiously about the room, observing the other inmates. The Spaniard leant down to the side of his chair, taking out a small brown paper bag and pushing it across the table towards him. "Here Feliciano, I bought you these from the cafe, I made them this morning." Feliciano slowly took the bag to find two sugary, slightly wonky shaped cinnamon buns. "...sorry they're a little squished." Antonio added apologetically.
"Fucking guards gave them a right going over, even x-rayed them!" Romano spat in disgust, shaking his head. "They're fucking pastries for God sake!"
"They were checking we weren't trying to sneak him anything inside them." Antonio said, carefully removing the half disintegrated buns from the bag for the Italian.
Feliciano wished he had the energy to truly show how grateful he was for the pastries, his stomach gave a ferocious growl at the sight of the sugary treats and he snatched them up hurriedly. "Grazie." he gabbed quickly, digging in immediately. He tore into the soft pastries with his teeth, consuming the lot in a matter of moments.
Romano stared at his brother savagely destroying the cinnamon buns. "Holy crapola they are starving you then?" he demanded, never having seen his brother eat so enthusiastically before.
"No!" Feliciano insisted, wiping his lips. "Fratello really...we just don't get food like this and I really miss it..." he murmured softly.
"What is the food like?" Romano asked, suddenly worried, "It's not like dead rats or anything is it? Because I will march into the warden's office right now and-"
"Lovi..." Antonio shushed him quietly; the Italian's his voice seemed to be increasing in pitch and people were starting to look over.
Feliciano bit his lip, sighing softly. "The foods not my biggest problem..." he muttered, the two of them looked up. "...it's just finding ways to pass the time..."
This had only become an issue in the last week or so. Feliciano's last encounter with his German cellmate had left rather a lasting impression on him. He just didn't understand Ludwig! The Italian was so confused...one moment the blond was defending him and protecting him from harm, the next he was punching his lights out for simply trying to thank him! Feliciano didn't know what to make of it, but needless to say he'd been completely turned off the idea of sticking with Ludwig ever since the unfortunate courtyard gym incident...
However that was proving to be a problem; it was almost impossible to avoid the German what with them being cellmates and all, not to mention the fact that Ludwig seemed to be everywhere the Italian was. Unfortunately for Feliciano, there had been a number of similar incidents to the gym one in recent days, and all because the Italian couldn't control his compulsive need to thank Ludwig. He just couldn't help it; every time the German did something nice for him Feliciano couldn't help his immediate reaction. But what he just couldn't understand was why Ludwig would be so nice...so nice and then so horrible straight afterwards.
The most recent incident being whilst the Italian was taking a shower with some of the other block D inmates. Arthur had been called away to deal with something and wasn't there to stand guard over him like he normally would, leaving Feliciano feeling very exposed. He'd felt someone's eyes on him the second he'd stepped under the stream of hot water and it made him very uncomfortable. It was only confirmed to him that he was being watched when Ludwig's voice beside him snarled 'stop eye-fucking the Italian or I'll rip them out of your skull.' to an inmate stood behind Feliciano. The man immediately backed off and Feliciano was so grateful he'd lunged himself into the German, hugging him in gratitude. Ludwig clearly didn't appreciate the naked Italian clinging onto him and punched him square in the jaw like he'd now done on many occasions. The Italian had almost blacked out, lying practically unconscious on the shower floor as the hot water washed over his body, struggling to breathe and on the verge of drowning. Thankfully Arthur returned at this point and the poor guy had to fight his way in, fully clothed, to pick Feliciano up and drag him out, his uniform soaking wet.
Feliciano wished more than anything that he could control himself. He didn't understand, why did Ludwig have such a big problem with being thanked? Feliciano was just trying to show his gratitude...maybe the naked shower hug had been a bit much, but on the other separate occasions he'd only said the words 'thank you' and it still resulted in a punch or attack of some kind.
For those reasons the Italian had tried to keep himself occupied in other ways and away from Ludwig as much as possible. Taking Arthur's advice he joined some of the prison work programmes so that he had something to occupy himself with during the day. However these proved to be even less enjoyable than lying awkwardly on his bunk in silence with Ludwig above him in his own. He tried the kitchens first, since he loved cooking, but the manly cafeteria women were not happy for the help and weren't interested in any of Feliciano's ideas for improvement on the meals. Feliciano then tried the office but the paper work was tedious and boring, he hated it.
The worst however, had to be the laundry room; the Italian didn't mind washing and ironing clothes and he thought it'd be a great way to pass the time and avoid trouble. Unfortunately he hadn't realised that this job involved going round to every single prison cell in the afternoon with a trolley and collecting everyone's jumpsuits to take back to the laundry room. The cell doors were locked, but Feliciano still trembled with fear as he passed each pair of dark eyes, and squealed in alarm when anyone tried to speak to him. He had to resist the intense urge to throw up when he passed the cell which housed the man who had tried to buy him in the sex auction.
So Feliciano just went back to doing nothing like Ludwig, yet they had barely spoken at all in almost two weeks. The Italian noticed he was especially quiet that morning when Arthur had told them it was visitors' day for their block.
Romano looked at him curiously, "What do you even do in here?"
"Have you made any friends?" Antonio inquired.
"Don't make friends Feliciano!" Romano warned, "You shouldn't trust anyone in here..." he growled, eyes flicking about the room, glaring suspiciously at all the orange jumpsuits.
"Do you share a cell with anyone?"
Feliciano nodded slowly, wincing slightly as he irritated his tender jaw. "Sì, he's...kind of violent-"
"WHAT!?" the Italian's brother roared, jumping to his feet in a flash, sending his chair crashing to the floor with the erratic movement. "What do you mean violent!? Why the hell did they put you with a guy who's violent!? This is NOT acceptable!" Romano raged, going bright red. "I'm going to have a word!" he spat, pushing past the table he homed in on the British prison guard stood by the door.
"Lovino don't!" Feliciano begged but it was too late to stop him.
"HEY!" Romano snarled, squaring up to the Brit. "What the hell is all this about my little brother sharing a cell with some violent bastard? Do you want him to die or something!?"
Arthur looked very taken aback, glancing awkwardly at Feliciano who was still sat, looking mortified, at the table. "Um, Sir, I assure you that is not anyone's intention, but I don't have any say on who is put in which cell..."
Romano glared at him. "I don't care! Why don't you do something about it!?" his fists shaking at his sides the Italian looked close to having a violent outburst.
By this point Antonio had to come to the rescue before the British guard was forced to get his taser out; the Spaniard gently manoeuvred him away. "Lovi calm down, we're here to see Feli remember?"
Romano was still raging under his breath but managed to regain composure to spend the remaining time with his brother. Just ten minutes later a loud announcement was heard over the tannoy system, telling the visitors it was time to leave. Feliciano bid a reluctant, heartfelt farewell to his family before they were practically dragged out of the room. The Italian was the last of the inmates to get up from his table, shuffling after the rest of them as they were let out of the visiting room. The Brit gave him an awkward smile as he reached the door where he was still stood monitoring. "Well...you're brother certainly has a mouth on him..." he muttered, raising an eyebrow.
"Sì...I'm sorry about that." the Italian mumbled softly.
The Brit shrugged slightly. "Don't worry about it...but you know if you really wanted I could ask for you to be moved to another block, if you want to get away from Ludwig." he suggested.
"No!" Feliciano said hurriedly, startling the Brit. "I mean...I-I already know him, and he's not so bad..." he said softly, going slightly red. "By the way, where is he? He wasn't here..." he glanced around the now empty visiting room as everyone had filed back into the block.
Arthur nodded slowly. "Not surprising; in the five years Ludwig's been here he's never once had a visitor."
Feliciano stared at him. "Really? But...not even his family?" he asked in quiet shock; it was hard to believe that not even a single person would want to visit the German; surely he must have someone on the outside world.
The Brit looked slightly saddened. "He doesn't have a family." he said softly. Arthur was silent for a few moments before adding; "He had a brother once but..." he trailed off with a slightly distorted look on his face, quickly shaking his head. "Anyway doesn't matter, he's not here; I think he's still with Elizaveta, actually."
"What?" the Italian couldn't help the note of concern that filled his voice. "Why, is he okay?"
"He'll be fine, he just got stabbed again." the Brit said casually, glancing at his watch. "Right I better get you back-"
"Stabbed!?" Feliciano blurted out in shock, face paling. "B-But how? When?"
Arthur sighed slightly, "Bit of riot down in the courtyard, happens occasionally, always on visiting day I've noticed...anyway come on I need to lock up."
"Can I see him?" the Italian asked quietly, gazing up at he Brit. "I mean...to see if he's okay?"
Arthur manoeuvred Feliciano out of the visiting room so he could shut and lock the door. "Well..." he turned back with a bit of an awkward look on his face. "There's only really supposed to be one inmate at a time to see a prison physician..." he muttered.
"Please, I'm sure Elizaveta won't mind..." the Italian begged as he followed the Brit down a flight of stairs.
Arthur glanced around the crowded block when they finally reached the entrance at the bottom of the stairs; inmates were disappearing into their cells but there were no other prison guards in sight. "Oh...okay fine, but not a word of this to anyone okay?" he warned quietly as he turned left down the wide corridor and he led Feliciano out of block D.
~0~
Feliciano actually felt strangely apprehensive as the door-less entrance to Elizaveta's office came into view. The man behind the glass in the office gave him a slightly confused stare as he passed, but with Arthur by his side the man said nothing. They carried on until they came to the open doorway where the familiar face of the American prison guard Alfred Jones was stood keeping watch; the Brit acknowledged him briefly before he knocked on the side of the wall. "Miss Héderváry?" he asked softly, halting the movement inside.
Feliciano peered cautiously into the office, letting out a tiny gasp. Ludwig was indeed there, sat on the narrow bed up against the wall. Looking at his face you wouldn't notice anything different about him, but there, protruding out of his left upper arm, was the handle of something that looked like a merciless make-shift knife. A trickle of blood was slowly weeping from the wound, dripping down the German's arm to his elbow, where it beaded off and stained the white sheets beneath him.
The surprisingly cheerful Hungarian turned around from her desk, smiling at the Brit. "Oh hi Arthur, do you need something?"
"No I've just...I've brought Feliciano." he indicated to the Italian beside him; Alfred rolled his eyes.
Elizaveta looked round at him in surprise. "Hi sweetheart, are you okay? I'm just with Ludwig at the moment so do you think you can wait a few minutes?" she asked, searching through the draws beneath one of the work surfaces.
Feliciano bit his lip, he could feel Ludwig staring at him. "No I'm okay I just...I wanted to see if...if..." he trailed off awkwardly, his eyes shifting uncomfortably towards the German. "...Ludwig was okay." he finished in a soft murmur.
Ludwig's eyebrows ascended up towards his forehead; Elizaveta smiled sweetly as she turned back around. "Oh how sweet...well I guess that's okay if Ludwig doesn't mind..." she asked approachably, glancing at the blond.
Feliciano knotted his fingers together anxiously; the German simply rolled his eyes. "Ja whatever fine, you can let him in." he muttered, turning his attention back to Elizaveta.
The Italian managed a small smile, slowly shuffling into the office; he stood awkwardly for a few moments before the Hungarian suggested he take a seat beside the German. Feliciano edged over, not able to help the harsh wince that wracked his features when he got a close up view of the blunt object sticking out of Ludwig's arm. He went to the German's other side, away from the knife, he struggled to jump up onto the bed next to him as his weedy arms couldn't heave himself up. Feliciano let out a squeak of surprise when the scruff of his neck was suddenly grabbed onto, and Ludwig hoisted him up onto the bed with one hand.
"G-Grazie-" the Italian clamped a hand to his mouth when he realised what he'd just said; the German shot him a dark look but thankfully did nothing. Feliciano was very on edge, hunched anxiously on the bed, leaving a space between him and Ludwig.
Elizaveta pulled on a pair of white rubber gloves and swiftly approached the German. "Okay sweetie, come here..." she leant down to get a closer look at the wound, gently pressing her thumbs either side of the protruding object, biting her lip in thought. "...not too bad, it's not a very big shiv is it? Doesn't look like it's gone too deep..." she muttered softly.
"Ja, it was a bit pathetic." Ludwig muttered, watching her. Feliciano couldn't look, he kept his eyes fixed straight ahead at the wall opposite, at all the plastic wallets that were thumb tacked up, each containing different medical forms.
Elizaveta stood up straight, giving the German an apologetic look. "I'm going to pull it out now okay? I'd grab onto something if I was you sweetie, it may smart a bit."
Feliciano had just managed to block out what was going on in the room when a crushing weight on his hand caused him to let out a startled squeak. The Italian's left hand, that had been resting in the gap between him and the German, was being clamped down on by Ludwig's own, his large fingers crushing around Feliciano's wrist. The Italian dared a look at the German's face, he was clenching his jaw, eyes narrowed so tight they were almost closed shut, it seemed as if he wasn't even aware he was grabbing onto the Italian.
Elizaveta took a tight grasp of the handle, her other hand placed firmly against the German's shoulder. "Ready? Okay, one, two, three!" with a sharp tug the shiv was wrenched out of Ludwig's upper arm, sending a fresh, rather thick, drizzle of warm blood down his bare arm. Feliciano's hand felt as though it was going to snap right off, when the Hungarian pulled Ludwig clamped down on him with such force his whole arm shook.
Ludwig's face slowly unclenched and untwisted itself, his fingers slowly releasing Feliciano's poor hand. The Italian flexed his crushed fingers, trying to let the blood flow back into his hand. The Hungarian brandished the weapon for them to see. "Not too bad, quite a small blade."
Feliciano stared, his stomach going sick. In her hand was not a knife at all, but rather a jagged piece of blood coated glass, with a piece of ripped sheet tied around the bottom for a handle. Elizaveta left it carefully on the side before hurrying back over to him, using a cloth to press down hard over the open wound, mopping up the blood. "There we go, that wasn't too bad was it?" she said sweetly, dabbing at his arm; Ludwig winced ever so slightly. "Now we'll get you all bandaged up and you'll be right as rain."
The Italian stared at Ludwig, his face had his usual grimace but it was clearly just from the pain in his arm, and not from what Elizaveta was saying to him. Feliciano was amazed she was being so patronising yet the German didn't seem to mind. He'd expected a sharp word or at least a glare but Ludwig seemed perfectly content to let her fuss over him in that motherly way she went about.
The bleeding eventually stopped and Hungary was able to wrap rather a lot of bandage around his entire upper arm. "Now the cut wasn't deep enough to do any real damage, but I'd try not to use this arm too much if you can help it sweetness." she said, securing the bandages and standing back up.
Ludwig nodded, carefully shifting his orange sleeve down to conceal the wound. "Alright."
Elizaveta smiled, she went to her desk and began shuffling around through the draws. The Hungarian sighed slightly, clicking her tongue. "Oh dear, I think I'm out of injury forms..." she stood back up with a frown and went to the plastic wallets pinned up on the wall that Feliciano was watching moments ago. Each wallet contained one of each type of form, forms for injuries, forms for illness and, Feliciano noticed with a shudder, a form to declare someone legally dead. Elizaveta slipped out the one injury form from the wallet and turned back to the two of them. "Sorry boys I'll just have to go and photocopy some more of these so you can sign one Ludwig, I'll be back in a moment." she gave them a cheery smile before disappearing out of the office, past Alfred and Arthur who were bickering quietly under their breath as they stood guard in the doorway.
Feliciano bit his lip, heart drumming anxiously as he sat alone with Ludwig in the brightly lit office. The German had returned to his unreadable, blank facial expression, yet the Italian thought that perhaps Ludwig was sneaking a glance at him every so often as he got that familiar uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched. Feliciano shifted awkwardly on the narrow bed, staring down at his hands now curled together in his lap, his left hand still throbbing painfully. The tension seemed to rapidly grow with each slow, passing moment and the Italian was begging Elizaveta in his mind to hurry.
Feliciano could have sworn he'd heard a grunt emit from the man beside him, as if clearing his throat. The Italian gave the German a discreet sideways glance, he was gritting his teeth, fingers drumming against the edge of the bed as if trying to bring himself to speak. Ludwig let out a frustrated sigh, making Feliciano jump. "Vargas." he muttered, a lot harsher than he may have intended. Feliciano looked nervously up at him; the German kept his eyes fixed ahead. "Look I think I..." he grimaced as he spoke. "...owe you an apology."
The Italian's eyes widened, that was the last thing he expected him to say. "...really?" he managed in a quiet whisper.
The German grudgingly gave a nod. "Ja, all those times I punched you...oh, und your hand." he added, glancing at the Italian's very red knuckles; Feliciano flexed them delicately. "Sorry about that." he muttered in a deadpan voice.
The Italian shrugged slightly. "It's okay." he hadn't been sure whether Ludwig was sincere or not but he was thankful for the gesture...even if he was still confused as to why it was needed in the first place. The silence resumed, even more intense after the brief words; Feliciano bit his lip, allowing himself a look at the German's arm, now bandaged up, a large blood stain soaking into the sheets on the bed. "...how did that happen?" he questioned, speaking so quietly he wondered whether Ludwig had heard him.
The German glanced at his arm, giving it a careful flex. "A riot broke out in the courtyard, und in the fight someone stabbed me from behind." he said coldly.
"You don't know who?" Feliciano asked softly.
Ludwig shook his head. "Nein, little bastard took off before I could see who it was...they always do that, fucking cowards." he spat bitterly; he clenched his fists but had to release them again with a sharp inhale, the movement irritating his wound.
Feliciano bit his lip as he watched. "It happens a lot?"
Germany nodded. "On occasion." he muttered.
The Italian seemed stunned, wide eyes shifting from the blood splattered glass on the counter to the German's arm. "But...I thought everyone in here was..." he stammered uneasily, heart lurching slightly when Ludwig's eyes suddenly fell on him. "...scared of you..." he finished in murmur.
Ludwig slowly raised an eyebrow; Feliciano swallowed slightly as the German's deep blue eyes bore into him. He shrugged, eyeing the shiv. "Ja, but I guess it's the only way they feel they can get some pay back." he said darkly, flexing his arm again. The Italian nodded, feeling uncomfortable once more. The German stared at him for a few silent moments before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Vargas look, I don't know whether you noticed, but reputation is everything in here." he said assertively. "There is a reason I hit you whenever you go all mushy on me." the Italian couldn't help blushing slightly as the blond said this. "It's not because I'm a jerk, it's so that no one in here thinks I'm going soft, you can't let yourself be seen that way, if you show any kind of weakness in here things go bad very quickly." he finished softly, gazing down at the blood stained sheets.
Feliciano stared too, eyes wide as guilt started to creep in. "...did...did they do that to you because of me?" he whispered in shock. "Because...I made you look weak?"
Ludwig shook his head. "Nein, like I said before it just happens during riots sometimes when some crafty bastard thinks they can get me when my back is turned." he muttered, carefully massaging his shoulder.
Feliciano smiled a little in relief, feeling slightly more at ease to hear it wasn't his fault. Elizaveta soon returned with a handful of forms. "I'm back, sorry about that sweeties..." she dropped them on the table and picked one up with a pen. "Okay Ludwig I'm going to need you to sign this." she said, filling in the description of the injury for him.
The German nodded. "Ja I know the procedure Miss." he muttered, taking the pen when she handed it to him; the German scrawled his name across the bottom. Feliciano watched, noting with befuddlement that Ludwig only wrote his first name, leaving the box for the last name blank.
Elizaveta took it back. "Thank you sweetie, let's hope this is the last time I see you for something like this." she said with a smile.
Ludwig got down from the bed, moving his arm carefully. "Somehow I doubt that..." he muttered, holding out his other hand to the Hungarian. "Thank you Miss Héderváry."
Elizaveta rolled her eyes fondly, holding out her arms. "You're so formal! Come here sweetie..." she pulled the German into a hug, gently squeezing him around the neck. Ludwig kept perfectly still, letting himself be hugged, his arms remained still at his side. She eventually pulled back, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Keep an eye on my little Italian sweetiepie won't you?" she whispered in his ear so Feliciano couldn't hear; the Hungarian pulled back, beaming brightly. "Okay off you go."
Ludwig gave her a grimace which could have almost been a smile, he strode out of the doorway to meet Alfred who was waiting to take him back to block D. Behind them Feliciano was still in a slight state of shock as he, with some difficulty, climbed down from the bed. "...Ludwig let you hug him." he murmured dazedly to Elizaveta.
She let out a slight giggle, shaking her head. "Is it really that surprising? Don't be silly...Ludwig's a big softy really..." Elizaveta laughed again as Feliciano's wide eyes widened further. "Okay he's not exactly soft, but he's not as bad as his reputation." she said more seriously now, giving the Italian a gentle hug. "He just puts up that bad boy front for protection."
The Italian leant into her, sighing heavily. "...I wish I could put up a front." he mumbled sadly.
Elizaveta smiled, kissing the top of his head. "Oh sweetie you'll be okay, trust me." she said reassuringly, rolling her eyes as she saw Arthur in the doorway, tapping his watch. "Well I better let you go, don't hesitate to come and see me anytime honeypie."
~0~
Feliciano went to bed that night feeling more at ease than he had done in a long time. Ludwig's explanation about why he received savage beatings every time he tried to thank the German in public had finally squashed all the confusion in his mind. Yes he still felt it a little harsh considering he was just being polite, but if it meant that the other inmates didn't see Ludwig as weak then he felt he could bear it. Not that he needed to, he just needed to learn not to show gratitude in public.
Easier said than done. However the Italian felt he'd made good headway with Ludwig today, he hadn't minded him visiting him in Elizaveta's office, and he'd talked to him normally without trying to frighten him, or with any threats. He thought about what Ludwig had told him about the stabbing being a random act of violence, and he shuddered. The fact that someone, or possibly a number of different people, would stab the German when they knew they could get away with it in the mayhem and confusion of a riot, just to assert some form of dominance over him. It made the Italian feel sick to think about it, just the way the people operated in here and reacted to one another; it was a whole different world.
The Italian yawned slightly, shifting onto his back to stare up at the German's bed above him. The bunk creaked with the movement but he could hear Ludwig's heavy breathing and Feliciano was certain he was already asleep. Lights out had been almost an hour ago and, despite the calm and mildly relaxed way he was feeling, the Italian couldn't seem to drift off. He closed his eyes, wriggled slightly into a more comfortable position and lay perfectly still. There we go; the drowsiness was now seeping up towards his head, body starting to go heavy as sleep was just on the horizon, ready to settle down into a deep slumber-
Feliciano gasped. A sudden, very distressed groan struck the empty cell, causing the Italian's heart to lurch right up into his throat. His eyes snapped open, hands gripping the sheets around him. Had he just imagined that sound? The cell was silent, but the disturbing noise still seemed to linger in the air. Feliciano eventually calmed down, relaxing his tensed body as he settled back down to sleep.
The Italian jumped as it sounded again, there was no mistaking it that time, or indeed the source, which was coming from right above his head. Feliciano gripped tighter on the sheets; Ludwig let out another groan, the bed shuddered violently as the German twisted and thrashed around on his bunk. Feliciano bit the back of his knuckle, his own body shaking as the man above him was only getting louder, his erratic movements shaking the entire bunk.
"G-G...Gil..." Ludwig choked out nonsensical words in his sleep, writhing and flailing as if in excruciating pain. "...n-no...don't...h-hang on...G-Gil don't..." The German let out an agonising, ear-piercing scream, and the bed gave a savage lurched as Ludwig shot bolt upright on his bunk, now wide awake.
Feliciano lay rigid in his own bed, heart pounding furiously in his chest as he stayed completely silent throughout the entire ordeal. He could hear Ludwig's heavy breathing again, only this time it sounded as though the breath was hitching in his chest. The Italian thought he could still feel the bed shaking as the German trembled violently on his bunk, wheezing and on the verge of hyperventilating. After what felt like an age, Ludwig slowly lowered himself back down to the bed, his breathing returning to a relatively normal register.
Feliciano slowly released the death hold grip he had on the sheets, letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. His heart was still beating a furious, uneasy rhythm at the shock at what had just happened. He must have lain there completely motionless for at least an hour before he forced his body to relax once more. Ludwig had fallen back to sleep, breathing unsteadily on the bunk above him. Feliciano bit his lip, shifting restlessly onto his side he curled up beneath the sheets; it was going to be a rough night.