Antonio sighed, raking his fingers through his matted, curly brunette locks, long lost of their usual bounce and shine. He stared down despondently at the papers and letters littering the table in the small apartment kitchen, many of which had threatening words stamped across the font in blood red ink. The Spaniard took a few moments to rub harshly at his tired eyes before grabbing the next one, sluggishly tearing it open and skimming through the overly formal, almost angry sounding message, the fourth one they'd had this month from the bank. Antonio grabbed his gnawed, half-broken pen and dragged his notepad towards him, scribbling down a few notes from the letter along with some numbers; the notepad was almost bear of pages now, most were strewn across the kitchen floor in scrunched up balls.
The sudden strong, ghastly smell of tobacco floated all too unwelcomingly into the Spaniard's nostrils as he set about his work, wrinkling his nose in disgust; Antonio lifted and turned his head, he was startled to see his Italian partner stood restlessly by the bedroom doorway behind him, inhaling furiously on a cigarette.
Antonio made a point of coughing obnoxiously. "Lovino would you put that thing out?" he asked in between coughs, batting away at the grey cloud starting to accumulate around his head. "You don't smoke."
Romano glared at him, his eyes heavy with dark circles. "I do when I'm stressed!" he hissed irritably taking several erratic drags, ash dropping from the cigarette like snow to the floor.
Antonio sighed, spinning around on his stool to face him. "Stop that." he asserted sternly. "Seriously put it out Lovi it stinks." the Spaniard shook his head, going back to the scattered paperwork. "...and not on your arm!" he added, spotting the Italian's reflection in the microwave opposite him on the counter, starting to roll up his jumper sleeve.
Romano grit his teeth, flicking the blunt cigarette into the sink; Antonio carried on scribbling his notes, tapping slowly on a calculator sat on the table in front of him. The Italian started pacing back and forth around the tiny kitchen, prowling round and round the table like a caged animal. "I can't believe they didn't respond to our letter!" he growled suddenly, making Antonio jump. "Fucking pricks..."
"...Lovi one of their family members is in hospital in a coma and the guy they think is responsible is behind bars..." Antonio explained slowly for what had to be at least the hundredth time, frowning slightly when he lost his place in his current calculation. He sighed, setting down his pen he rubbed a hand down his face. "...they're not going to care whether or not his brother sends them a letter telling them he's innocent." he muttered, gazing sadly at his partner.
"Then we'll go to the hospital!" Romano snapped, halting his movement. "We'll go there and we'll wait for the family to show up."
Antonio shook his head. "...and then what Lovi?" he asked incredulously.
"I'll talk to them!" the Italian shot firmly. "Tell them what's what and make them realise it was a mistake!"
"What makes you think you can convince them Feli's innocent?" Antonio asked softly, slowly sitting up to stretch his back. "It didn't work at the trial."
Romano slammed his hands down in front of the Spaniard, sending the papers and letter shooting off the table. "So you just want us to give up is that it!?" he demanded, outraged.
Antonio stumbled a little on his stool in surprise. "No-"
"I thought you cared more about this family than that Antonio!" the Italian snarled, practically lunging himself across the table towards the Spaniard.
Antonio hurriedly leant backwards, holding up a calming hand. "Lovino I'm just saying that there's nothing we can really do to change what's happened." he said imploringly.
"That doesn't mean we can't try!" Romano argued, snapping back up straight he starting pacing in front of the table again.
Antonio sighed softly. "The more time we spend trying the more time Vargas' Place is going to stay closed."
"Fuck Vargas' Place!" Romano blurted out in disbelief, skidding to a halt on the smooth floorboards; he turned his angry glare on his partner. "I don't give a fuck about the goddamn cafe when my little brother is locked up in prison!"
The Spaniard shook his head, gripping at the front of his hair as he stared hopelessly down at the open letters scattered about the floor. "Lovino we need to start bringing in money again, we've been closed for so long I've had to start dipping into our savings-"
"I don't CARE!" Romano bellowed, the tanned olive skin of his cheeks growing a deep shade of red. "We're not doing ANYTHING until Feliciano is back here with us!"
"That's going to take two years Lovi!" Antonio cried alarmingly.
"Not if we work on his case!"
"We've been working on his case all day and all night for weeks now Lovi!" the Spaniard groaned despairingly. "It's time to accept that there's nothing either of us can do to get him out of there!" his voice was rising along with his uncharacteristic anger.
The Italian growled. "Well I am not going back to work until my brother is freed!" he spat furiously, his arms trembling at his sides.
"Now you listen to me Lovino Vargas!" Antonio had shot up to his feet, storming to the other side of the table to confront his Italian partner, towering a good few inches above the shorter man. "I did not give up my dream job to be with you here just so you could quit when things got hard!" he bellowed into his face, his curly locks practically standing on end. He stood braced with his hands curled into fists to take the full blow of Romano's response; the Italian opened his mouth with the intent of shouting back but his voice suddenly cracked and he drew in a large shuddering breath, breaking down into tearful sobs. Antonio's anger dispersed and his heart softened at the sight of his partner crying, he hurriedly enveloped him into a strong hold, cradling him tightly.
"Lovi..." the Spaniard murmured, his voice still quavering slightly, the remnants of his outburst. He kissed him tenderly on the forehead, holding him in a close embrace until the Italian's trembling shoulders ceased their shaking and his sobs quietened down into soft murmurs. Antonio gently pulled back, placing comforting hands on his partner's shoulders and gazing down at the Italian's lowered head. "Lovi, when I moved in with you we always talked about how nothing was ever going to stop us living our lives..." the Spaniard said softly, tipping Romano's chin up to look at him, it saddened him to see the large tears spilling down the Italian's face. "...is that not true anymore?"
Romano sniffed, scrubbing the back of his hand across his eyes. "I just..." the Italian's voice shook noticeably, tears still raining down his red face. "I never imagined that would include living without my b-brother..."
His voice broke on the final word as he threatened to burst into sobs again and Antonio pulled him close once more, stroking a hand through the dark hair at the back of his neck. "I know, I know...I know it's hard..." he murmured gently into his ear.
"I'm not moving on Antonio." Romano said as firmly as his emotion wracked voice would allow, clutching the back of the Spaniard's shirt.
"I'm not asking you to." Antonio insisted, slightly shocked at such a notion. He placed his hands on the Italian's waist, stepping back to look into his tearful face. "We'll still visit whenever we can and we'll help Feli get through this...but in the meantime we need to try our best to live out our lives as normal; we need to re-open the cafe and get back to work again." Romano opened his mouth to argue but the Spaniard placed a finger against his lips. "Feliciano would have wanted it Lovi, he loves Vargas' Place." Antonio assured him with a tender smile.
Romano sniffled miserably, taking Antonio's hands in his own. "...I just don't know if I can...I'll feel like I'm letting him down..." he muttered in a hollow voice, gazing at his partner's feet.
"You'll be letting him down if we end up losing the cafe, come on Lovi..." Antonio bent down slightly to meet his eyes again. "Feliciano would want us to carry on, he'll be out as soon as we know it, heck he's a sweet kid, with good behaviour I wouldn't be surprised if he got out in just one year." he said certainly, planting a gently yet deep kiss on his partner's lips, cringing just slightly as he tasted the ash on his mouth. "Come on, what do you say?" he asked quietly when they broke away.
The Italian sighed, dabbing his eyes dry. "...fine, we'll open tomorrow." he said quietly, taking a step back from the Spaniard. Antonio smiled at him and Romano managed a weak smile back before his usual stark expression replaced it. "...when's the next day we can visit Feliciano?"
Antonio glanced behind him at the refrigerator where they had a calendar pinned up, a red pen mark was circled around one of the boxes of the current month. "Just three days." he read, counting through the calendar. "The time will fly past, you'll see."
~0~
"Hey Feliciano." the Italian turned around, smiling warily at his surprisingly kind new friend as he appeared behind him in the courtyard that morning. He'd only known him the last two days but Feliciano had been incredibly grateful for the company, he was starting to become more and more comfortable talking to the man as time went on, he wasn't intimidating in the least. "How have you been?"
"I've been okay grazie." Feliciano said with a shrug. "What about you? Why weren't you at breakfast?" he asked curiously, having spent the last twenty minutes sat awkwardly by himself in the corner of Ludwig's table.
"Oh I was...busy, you know, talking to people..." Johan stammered vaguely, waving a dismissive hand. "Anyway how are you?" he interjected with a bright smile.
"Um, you just asked me that." the Italian muttered, laughing uncertainly. "Are you okay?"
Johan's dark eyes widened a little before he shook his head. "Yeah I'm fine, just tired I guess." he shrugged again, his pupils flitting sideways in that snake like way they often did. "Do you want to go for a walk or something?"
Feliciano nodded, smiling slightly. "Sì that'd be good, it'll keep us warm." he mentioned as he moved to Johan's side, the two of them slowly starting to wander aimlessly into the sea of inmates.
Johan kept quite close to Feliciano's side, gazing back over their shoulders to check they weren't being followed. "It is getting kind of cold isn't it? There'll stop letting us out here so-" the man faltered slightly, the words getting caught in his throat.
Feliciano stopped walking when Johan did, glancing back anxiously. "What is it? Oh..." the Italian bit his lip, creeping slightly closer to Johan's side. A familiar and incredibly battered face had just stepped out of the prison into the courtyard, his two eyes bruised and staring menacingly in their direction. Feliciano shivered slightly as Blake stared them down from where he stood; Feliciano's eyes darted hurriedly away from Blake's and he was startled to meet another dark pair staring back at him, these ones belonging to Eric who seemed to be waiting for Blake to meet him. The Italian was not aware these two awful men were friends; Blake stepped down from the doorway and he and the large skinhead Eric disappeared together into the dense crowds, never once averting their dark stares from Feliciano and Johan.
Feliciano was anxious to move away and he grabbed Johan's hand, leading them swiftly in the opposite direction towards the towering fence that housed them in the prison courtyard. "Sorry, I don't really like those two..." he muttered softly to Johan once they were far enough out of range.
"It's okay, I understand...Blake got Ludwig in isolation and Eric wants to fuck you right? I get it." Johan said casually, gently letting go of Feliciano's hand.
Feliciano nodded weakly before his brows furrowed in confusion. "...how did you know that about Eric?" he asked quietly, staring at the man next to him as the wandered slowly along the edge of the courtyard; they walked passed Arthur and Alfred and the Italian briefly waved.
Johan's eye twitched slightly but he forced them to stay neutral. "I...saw the auction." he stated simply. "When Eric tried to buy you...sick isn't it? That disgusting way they try to auction off guys, like they're objects or something." Johan muttered, shaking his head.
"Sì...it terrified me." Feliciano murmured, crossing his arms across his chest as he shivered in the cold. "If Ludwig hadn't stepped in...I don't know what would have happened."
Johan smiled at him, bearing his teeth in a way that enhanced his sharp facial features. "Ludwig's a good guy." he said softly, his grey eyes twinkling. "Really good...you're lucky to have a guy like him."
"...you say that like he's my...boyfriend, or something." Feliciano mumbled, trying to stop the smile itching to stretch on his face.
"Isn't that what he is?" Johan asked, raising a brow. "I mean...you spend so much time together..."
The Italian shrugged slightly, biting his bottom lip as a light pink grazed his cheeks. "Sì but that doesn't mean...I mean we're just cell mates..." he murmured.
Johan's smile widened. "...so no romantic feelings whatsoever?" he asked innocently.
Feliciano turned his head away from Johan as they walked, attempting to hide the deep blush burning his cheeks. "...that's personal." he squeaked shyly.
Johan chuckled deeply, clasping a slim fingered hand on the Italian's shoulder. "As I thought, it's pretty obvious you know...and I understand why." he added, smirking a little.
Feliciano continued to hide his red face, yet couldn't help slyly glancing at the man next to him. "...you do?"
Johan nodded, patting the shoulder beneath his bony fingers. "Of course, Ludwig's a very attractive man...strong, handsome, enticing..." the brunette trailed off, a light smile gracing his sharp face. "...why wouldn't anybody want to sleep with him?" he added shrewdly.
Feliciano's eyes widened and he spun around to stare at him. "How did you know I slept with Ludwig?" he gasped, gaping at him in shock.
Johan looked just as surprised as Feliciano, his eyebrows skyrocketing up his forehead. "You've actually slept with Ludwig?" he asked in disbelief, his lips slowly stretching into a grin.
"I...I thought you...I mean..." the Italian stammered, swallowing slightly. "...you said you knew."
"No I just assumed someone might want to." Johan said hurriedly with a slight smirk in his voice. "But I guess I'm not overly surprised you have...so there's something there then yes?"
Feliciano sighed, biting the top of his knuckle. "I guess there's no point lying..." he muttered.
Johan smiled widely but didn't push it any further, instead he dug a hand into his jumpsuit pocket and produced a small chocolate bar, holding it out to Feliciano. "You want some of this?" he asked kindly.
The Italian was glad for the change of subject. "Sì, grazie." he breathed a sigh of relief, opening his hand.
"Here." Johan broke the chocolate in half and peeled open the wrapper, tipping the broken pieces into the Italian's hand.
"Grazie." Feliciano said happily, popping a square into his mouth; it'd been a long time since he'd eaten something quite as tasty as this.
"No problem...hey what are you doing later?" Johan asked suddenly as they came to the front of the large courtyard again after edging completely around the entire space.
Feliciano looked confused. "Um, same as always I guess...why?"
"Well it's just that, you know we can work right? I mean we can work in the prison in the afternoons to pass time?"
"Sì...I tried it a while ago."
Johan nodded. "Yeah, so do you want to go and work in the kitchens with me for a bit after lunch?" he inquired casually, "Good way to pass the time."
"...it's not as fun as I thought it might be...the women in there are mean and all you get to do is peel potatoes and stuff..." Feliciano muttered, eating a few more pieces of chocolate.
Johan shrugged but patted his shoulder again. "But that was on your own wasn't it?" the Italian nodded. "Well together it might be okay, rather than sit in a cell all afternoon doing fuck all."
Feliciano was a little surprised at the unexpected swearing but didn't think anything of it. He smiled at the man, shrugging himself. "Okay, I guess it could be kind of fun."
~0~
Ludwig raked his shaking hands through his rather greasy, no doubt rather dirty blond hair. He sighed inwardly, not daring to actually make a sound, it only made things a lot worse. Hearing his own voice in isolation merely enhanced the loneliness, rather than kept himself company, so instead the German opted to stay silent with his thoughts...and as time dragged on, it was slowly driving him more and more insane.
For the last two days Ludwig had pretty much been sat in this one spot, on this narrow bunk in an isolated cell in complete darkness. He only knew how much time had passed by counting the meals he received, he'd had at least six, so he knew it had been at least two days. Those were the only moments when he got the tiniest glimpse of light from the small hatchway on the large, steel door that barricaded him in this tiny room as a guard would slide a tray into the cell to feed him. It wasn't the first time he'd been in here, but it had been a long time.
Usually Ludwig could handle it, he was used to being alone after all with nothing but his thoughts for companionship, and he liked the dark, it made it easier to sleep. But now he had other, much more important priorities. With him locked inside this dank cell; Feliciano was out there in the main prison all alone, no one to look out for him or keep people who would want to hurt him at bay. It had been driving the German insane, making his time in isolation that much more unendurable. Ordinarily he'd take his punishment with dignity, lying back on this cold bunk in the dark in complete silence for days on end, refusing to let the torment of darkness and loneliness break down his sanity, like he knew it had happened to so many inmates.
But this time was different, he couldn't do it. All Ludwig could think about was Feliciano. Was he okay? Had someone attacked him? Was he being forced into an abusive relationship with some sick bastard? The German felt sick, sitting bolt upright on the bed and clawing harshly at his hair.
A loud scraping noise startled him and he looked up to see the small hatchway sliding open and a tray being pushed into the cell. Ludwig shot up off the bed when he recognised the silver watch on the wrist of the guard pushing his food through the hatchway; it had the British flag encrusted behind the clock hands.
"Arthur! Wait!" Ludwig called, banging a hand on the metal door before the hand completely withdrew.
A sigh answered him from the other side of the door. "Ludwig, you know I'm not allowed to communicate with you-" the hand pulled away from the hatchway.
"Just listen please!" the German begged, jamming his fist into the small gap before the Brit could slide it closed again. "Please just tell me if Feli's okay."
"Ludwig please I have to go." Arthur said firmly, yet from the volume of his voice the German knew he was staying put by the door.
"Just answer me please! I need to know Arthur." Ludwig implored, bending down to stare desperately through the hatchway where a dim light was protruding from, penetrating through the darkness of his isolated cell, he could just see the British prison guard's side.
Arthur glanced anxiously around before leaning down to meet Ludwig's eyes through the gap. "Feliciano is okay Ludwig, alright? I promise." he said calmly.
Ludwig inhaled deeply, slowly nodding. "Thank Gott...no ones been bothering him then?"
"No, in fact he's actually made a friend." Arthur informed him quietly, still looking around, worried about being caught.
Ludwig's heart sank. "What?"
"He's starting hanging around with some block C inmate." the Brit answered. "They seem to get on well."
"Who is he?" Ludwig asked, suddenly sounding panicky again. "Who is this guy? Do I know him?"
"I'm not sure of his name, um..." Arthur was still distracted with checking the coast was clear. "I don't know, he's...he's quite tall, skinny, weird grey eyes...pointy chin..."
Ludwig was momentarily vexed until the air in his lungs was suddenly wheezed out of him. "Scheiße..." he breathed, the German banged on the door to bring Arthur's attention back to him. "Scheiße Arthur, think...his name isn't, Johan...is it?"
The Brit perked up. "Oh yes I think it is, Feliciano said his name the other-"
"NEIN NEIN! OH GOTT!" Ludwig exploded with erratic panic, banging his fists into the large door.
Arthur jumped away in shock. "What? What's wrong?" he asked concernedly.
"Arthur!" Ludwig blurted out in disbelief, pressing his face right into the hatchway. "Think! Don't you remember who that guy is!?" he implored desperately.
The Brit stared at him, edging gingerly closer. "...um, no why? Should I remember?"
"YES!" Ludwig barked, his blue eyes wide with hysteria. "Think Arthur! Five years ago! My trial!"
"...your trial?" he said slowly.
"Ja! He was there remember!? He testified against me!" Ludwig cried. "Arthur come on!"
Arthur furrowed his thick brows, dragging up the memory from the back of his mind...he couldn't remember much else of the trial besides Ludwig's sad tale, wait...there was something else, a pair of dark eyes staring at him from the witness stand-
"HE'S GERARD'S SON!" Ludwig bellowed, losing patience, hammering a fist into the door, ignoring the seizing pain in his knuckles. "Remember!? The man who killed Gilbert! It's his son!"
Arthur's green eyes widened, his mouth falling open. "Oh...oh my..."
"Scheiße..." Ludwig clutched a handful of his dishevelled hair, head rapidly shaking from side to side. "...that's why he did it, it was all planned, all of it..." he whispered, jaw clenching.
"What?"
Ludwig threw himself into the door all of a sudden, letting out a loud roar, frightening the Brit a little. "GOTTVERDAMMTE!" he pounded his fists furiously into the hard metal, shaking his intense rage. "NEIN! I can't believe I didn't see this coming!"
"Ludwig what are you going on about?" Arthur asked beseechingly, keeping a slight distance from the door.
"Arthur he planned this!" Ludwig growled, dragging his blunt nails down the cold metal. "He wanted me out the way, he knows he-" the German's pale face drained, if possible, of even more colour. "...he knows, he wanted me in here because he knows." he whispered, his heart sinking to his stomach.
"Knows what?" Arthur questioned hurriedly.
"He knows how I feel about Feli!" Ludwig yelled so quickly Arthur almost didn't understand him. "Arthur you've got to let me out of here." he said in a low, serious tone, staring through the hatchway at the Brit's waist. "Please, I need to save him!"
"What?" Arthur leant down to look at him through the gap. "Ludwig, Feliciano is okay-"
"NO HE ISN'T!" Ludwig screamed, completely losing any strings of patience. "Arthur Johan is going to hurt him! Please! Where are they!?"
"I'm not sure, the last time I saw them they were together in the kitchens I think-"
"Arthur please!" Ludwig groaned in despair, staring desperately into the pools of green staring back at him through the hatchway. "I need to go und find him before Johan does something to him! Please Arthur he needs me!"
Arthur bit his lip anxiously. "Ludwig I don't have the authority to authorise-"
"Arthur Feli is in danger und if you don't let me out he could be seriously hurt!" Ludwig cried with wide eyes.
"I really...I really can't-"
"ARTHUR! Please do this for me!" Ludwig begged, intense panic written all over his face. The Brit still looked unsure, his fingers twitching as if wanting to go to the keys at his belt. The German stared him down, his voice lowering. "Please...Arthur, if you ever truly believed in my story, if you ever truly believed in me...you'll know what I'm saying is the truth, und if you're really my friend you'll let me go und rescue him from that maniac."
Ludwig saw Arthur's throat move as he swallowed, and a soft jingle told the German that the keys on his belt had just been grabbed onto. "...they'll never forgive me for this." he whispered as he slowly stood back up, his set of keys now held unsurely in his hands. "...and if you're wrong Ludwig, I'll never forgive you."