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.
The Italian put the bottle back in the liquor cabinet and felt his heart squeeze when he looked at the newspaper sitting on the counter.
11 Million Remembered
A picture of a barbed wire fence against the sky sat below the headline and he saw the ring from the wet bottom of a mug staining the top of the page. Ludwig had read the paper that morning and then locked himself away in his room for the rest of the day, didn't even come out for lunch.
The Italian walked over to his door, hand raised to knock but he lowered it and leaned his forehead against the wood. He closed his eyes and swallowed past the lump in his throat.
It'd been months since the night of the incident. Feliciano tried to get Ludwig to apply for a position at the mechanic shop that Romano worked at and he went reluctantly. He knew his way around machines and felt comfortable among the saw's sparks flying through the air, a blowtorch firing up, a wrench falling echoing in his ears.
But at the end of the day, when it was quiet and still and Ludwig washed black smudges from his fingers, he heard a car door slam and he froze.
"Hey! You!" The man had called.
Ludwig turned on him and his fist connected with his face. "I'm not going!" He'd shout, "You can't fucking take me. Not going."
The few men in the office of the mechanic shop ran out and pulled him off holding him back as he thrashed and screamed.
"YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!" He roared as the men tried to rangle him into a chair but it only made him struggle harder. After one of the men splashed some water on his face, he quietened to a mumbling ghost of a man.
"What's he sayin'?" They asked, his voice too low to hear.
Romano grit his teeth and told them all to give him space, that he'd take him home. The men slowly trickled out of the shop, one staying behind to help the man Ludwig had punched, trying to stop the nose bleed.
Romano took him outside and sat him on a bench, one hand gripping his shoulder. "Breathe, come on. Just breathe."
Ludwig slowly relaxed his breathing and buried his face in his hands. He let out a long shaky breath and shook his head.
Romano sat beside him and gripped his shoulder. "Listen, they aren't going to let you come back here. Let's just get you home, okay?"
They stood when the German was ready and made their way to Feliciano's apartment. Ludwig unlocked the door and just laid down on the couch, turning away towards the wall. He closed his eyes and just held his sore hand to his chest.
Feliciano came out of the kitchen and furrowed his brow when he saw Romano standing there. "What's wrong?"
His brother came closer and spoke in a hushed voice. "He lost it. Had an episode." Romano sighed. "He was fine all day, around the loud noises and everything. As soon as it was quiet and some guy came up behind him he just..."
Feliciano teared up slightly and looked over at Ludwig's back. "Did he hurt anyone?"
"Punched a guy. Nosebleed." Romano looked over as well. "Look, they're not gonna be able to give him the job. He's just not ready yet, he may never be."
"I know." The Italian whispered, arms crossed loosely. "I just wanted him to try to get back."
Romano pulled his brother into a hug and squeezed him gently, patting the back of his neck before he let go. "Be patient, alright?"
Feliciano nodded as Romano headed for the door, smiling weakly as he walked out. He locked the door behind him and sighed.
The Italian walked to the living room and slowly approached Ludwig, kneeling beside the couch. The German turned over and kept his eyes closed, a few tears slipping out.
Feliciano frowned and took his injured hand, knuckles bruised and bloody. He gently wiped away the tears from Ludwig's cheek. He waited until Ludwig opened his eyes and sighed softly.
"Never gonna be normal." Ludwig whispered, squeezing Feliciano's hand.
The Italian felt his heart clench and he shook his head. "Don't say that. Ludwig, shh, stop crying." He used his thumb to gently swipe at his wet cheeks. "You are normal."
The German scoffed quietly and whimpered almost inaudibly. "Don't lie."
Feliciano closed his eyes. "I don't know how to make you believe me but you are normal, Ludwig." He whispered. "You just-"
"I'm not. I will never be. I just hurt people everywhere I go, I can never stop. Just better if I'm gone, you know? I think--"
Feliciano leaned forward and pressed a desperate kiss to his lips. "Shut up." He whispered and kissed him harder.
Ludwig let out a shaky breath, almost a sob, and his hand went to the back of Feliciano's neck when he felt him pulling away.
"Feli," his voice was low and the Italian shuddered. "Please."
Feliciano swallowed hard, their lips still brushing, sharing soft breaths. He gripped Ludwig's hand and felt his fingers tighten in his hair.
"Please," he choked out, raspy and deep and husky--
Feliciano melted and whatever hesitation left inside him was thrown to the wind. He kissed Ludwig again and climbed up, straddling his hips. The German sat up, chasing his lips with his hands around Feliciano's waist.
Feliciano whimpered softly against Ludwig's lip as his heart pounded against his ribcage. Ludwig's shaky hands worked at the belt around Feliciano's hips and he tugged at the German's black t-shirt.
Last time, one last time.
~
To be continued...