Feliciano Vargas had never been in a coma before. Despite how normal the statement was – after all, not too many people ever went into comas – he never thought he'd attest to the contrary.
It was the oddest feeling. Rather, it was the oddest sounds that permeated his lost consciousness. He couldn't feel a thing, physically, and he couldn't even move. But he could hear garbled, muffled noise – like he was listening to a conversation from ten feet underwater. They were voices, he was sure, because at certain times, when his consciousness was alert enough to pick up the noise, he heard his name.
… Feliciano…
… Feli…
This happened off and on for a while. He really wasn't sure about the time. It all seemed timeless, yet coincidentally drawn-out.
He heard his name sandwiched between more muddled noise, and then his mind slipped away from him again.
.
Feliciano opened his eyes, squinting and blinking violently in the face of bright daylight. His body felt heavy, so weary, he could barely turn his head. He lay back and looked around the ceiling.
Bright white, nothing else. He tuned his ears to the sounds around him. Again, he didn't hear much; perhaps there was the sound of footsteps, but those seemed far away.
He needed to look around.
Feliciano used all his strength to lift his head slightly from the pillow he was laid on. He noticed two things right away. He seemed to be in a hospital, as he was dressed in a pale, hospital blue gown with a hospital grey blanket over his body and a hospital bed underneath him. The second: his big brother, Lovino, was asleep at his bedside.
Lovino was holding onto his hand, his head lay on his folded arm across the bed. Feliciano smiled.
He put his energy into squeezing Lovino's hand, tightening his fingers around his palm.
Lovino must have been sleeping lightly because he raised his head, blinking slowly.
"Feliciano?" he said.
Feliciano smiled and squeezed his hand again. Lovino's eyes widened, his other hand coming to grasp his hand as well.
And then Lovino opened his mouth and gibberish poured out.
Feliciano's smile dropped and his mind prickled with anxiety. Lovino was talking to him, he was surely asking him questions. He couldn't understand anything he was saying. Except for his name.
"Feliciano?" Lovino asked, concerned. "Feli?"
He couldn't help it, couldn't stop it. Tears brimmed at the edges of his eyes and spilled over his cheeks.
"Lovino," he said, not sure he trusted what he was about to say next.
Lovino said his name again, and some mixture of words that sounded like he was prompting Feliciano to speak.
"Lovi, are you okay?" he began, voice a little hoarse from disuse. Lovino's jaw dropped open in shock. He was silent. It was all starting to scare him more. "Lovino, what's wrong?"
Lovino didn't cry, he didn't move.
"Lovi–"
His brother scrambled out of his chair, saying something indistinguishable and holding his hand up as if to tell Feliciano to stay where he was. Where else could he go?
Feliciano watched in wide-eyed panic as Lovino ran out of the room. He was alone, he couldn't remember what happened to put him in the hospital. And he and Lovino apparently couldn't understand each other.
His breaths started to come shallower and shallower, tears steadily streaming. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to control at least one thing.
Lovino returned only a minute later, a nurse in tow. He took to his chair again and grabbed Feliciano's hand while he and the nurse spoke to each other in words he couldn't understand.
The nurse touched his other hand and Feliciano looked to her with teary eyes. She looked calm, if a little confused. She moved her hand in front of her mouth as if telling Feliciano to speak.
Feliciano swallowed and said, "I don't understand. What's going on?"
It was the nurse's turn to look stunned. She quickly composed herself though and stuttered out, "Sprechen Sie Italien?"
Feliciano paused. Her grammar wasn't quite right, but he understood well enough. Did he speak Italian?
He didn't know. He supposed so… was that what she and Lovino were speaking? He opened his mouth to attempt Italian, but his mind drew a blank.
He felt his hands begin to tremble. After another minute trying to remember any Italian, he tearfully shook his head.
The nurse looked back and forth between him and Lovino. She said something to Lovino and then spoke to Feliciano. "Um… Sie," she said, pointing to him. "sprechen… Deutsch."
Her sentence was terribly mangled, but Feliciano pieced it together. You speak German.
You are speaking German.
He gaped. Was that why Lovino couldn't understand him?
The nurse situated the bed table in front of him and pulled a pen and piece of paper from her clipboard. She placed them in front of him, indicating for him to write.
Slowly, Feliciano wrote what was first on his mind. Why can't I understand you? Why am I speaking German? Should I be speaking Italian?
The nurse looked over his note, but shrugged her shoulders, saying something to Lovino.
Lovino looked on the verge of tears. Feliciano knew his brother and knew that Lovino was on the edge. He whipped his phone out of his pocket and typed something, then showed it to him.
He'd pulled up a translator and where it read Italian – German: "Don't cry. I'm going to go find someone in this hospital who can speak German. We'll figure this out."
Feliciano wiped at his eyes, nodding. Lovino rose from his chair and stalked purposefully out of the room.
While Lovino did this, the nurse had been checking his vitals and recording the machines' readings on her clipboard. Feliciano was trying to compose himself, for Lovino, but hiccupped whimpers bubbled out of him. The nurse leaned against his bed and took his hand, squeezing it. She was a kind-looking woman, middle-aged, with a gentle grasp. Feliciano leaned his face into her side and cried quietly while she silently stroked his hair.
Ten minutes had passed before Feliciano heard a commotion outside his room. He quickly sat up, wiping his eyes once more, eagerly awaiting Lovino, hoping he'd found somebody.
Lovino did enter, returning straight away to his side, and he watched as a man entered behind him.
The man was nearly as large as the doorframe; wide shoulders, tall, seemingly well-muscled. He looked a little hesitant, a little severe, and Feliciano clamped down on his nerves. This man was his only hope at the moment.
He was blond, blue-eyed, and extremely clean-cut. He spoke briefly with Lovino, then the big man turned to him.
"Your name is Feliciano?" he asked slowly.
Relief flooded him in an instant and Feliciano quickly replied. "Yes. Do you know why I can't speak Italian?"
The man's brow furrowed and he said, "No, I'm sorry, I'm not a doctor." He coughed. "My name is Ludwig. Ludwig Beilschmidt."
Feliciano lowered his eyes in embarrassment. Of course this man didn't know what had happened to him.
Ludwig spoke some more with the nurse and Lovino. The nurse offered him a chair and Ludwig sat next to Feliciano.
"Feliciano?" he began.
"Yes?"
"The nurse is going to get the doctor on staff. We're going to ask you some questions. To figure out why you can speak German, but not Italian. Italian is your native language, right?"
He swallowed. "I think so. If it's Lovino's it should be mine, I suppose."
Ludwig asked Lovino something, but their conversation was taking a long time, and Feliciano was panicking again.
He grabbed Ludwig's hand, not thinking, and said, "Please, Ludwig, talk with me. I don't know what's happening and it's scaring me."
Feliciano could recognize pity, and he saw it there in this man's eyes. He didn't really care though, given the situation they were in. Ludwig said something short to his brother and then turned to him.
"How did Lovino find you?" he asked Ludwig.
"I brought my brother here. He was… bitten by a stray dog and bleeding pretty badly. Your brother caught us as we were walking out."
If Feliciano could just distract himself away from his situation… "Oh! That's horrible. But wait, you were leaving? Is your brother still waiting?"
"It's okay. I told him to go without me. I live close by."
Just then, the nurse returned with a doctor behind her. Feliciano and Ludwig paused their conversation so Ludwig could speak with the others. With the foreign sounds bashing his ears again, Feliciano wrung his hands in his lap. He looked to his brother and his heart saddened. Lovino was watching Feliciano with such dejection in his eyes, and was that also guilt? What did Lovino have to be guilty for?
"Feliciano?" Ludwig said.
He looked to him and the doctor.
"The doctor wants to ask you questions, to determine how much you can recall, and see what could be the problem."
Feliciano bit his lip and nodded.
Ludwig took a deep breath, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Do you know where you are?"
He was a little surprised that the answer didn't come immediately. He thought about it. What were he and Lovino doing prior to coming to the hospital? Where were they? From the limited view out his window, he could see tall buildings.
"Um… the city."
"Which city?"
Feliciano was starting to worry that he'd forgotten, but like an answered prayer in the final hour, it came to him. "Rome."
Ludwig nodded. "Where do you live?"
"Here, Rome." Everything Feliciano answered was fact-checked by Lovino.
"What about your parents?"
Nothing could make him forget that. "They died a long time ago. Lovino and I were raised by Grandpa."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-three."
"How old is Lovino?"
"Twenty-five."
Feliciano answered a slew of obligatory questions. What year was it? Who was the president? What is your birthdate?
And then: "What happened to put you in the hospital? What do you last remember?"
He was sure it was something serious, but Feliciano was drawing a blank. He didn't know. "I don't remember," he replied meekly. His eyes brightened on a sudden memory. "I was with Lovino though, but I don't remember what we were doing."
He glanced at his brother for confirmation, but all he saw was pain in Lovino's eyes.
"Feliciano?"
"Yes?" he turned back to Ludwig.
"Have you learned German before?"
Feliciano opened his mouth, but closed it, unsure. Lovino said something and Ludwig translated. "Lovino says you took some classes in high school."
Yes, he did. "Oh, I did. But… I don't think I was any close to fluency as I seem to be now… We've also been to Germany a couple times… Does that matter?"
Ludwig consulted with the doctor and he said, "Yes, it does. Feliciano, I'm going to tell you about the accident you were in, and how it might have affected you."
Feliciano felt anxiety stir in his stomach.
"You and Lovino were driving out of Rome, to visit your grandfather. A driver crashed into you and the car flipped. Lovino was driving, you were in the passenger seat. Due to the impact, you sustained a severe head injury. You've been in a coma for a week. The doctor won't know until she can do some scans, but she thinks that you've sustained damage to the areas of your brain that process and make sense of language. It's rare for a primary language to be lost but she guesses that your Italian has been inhibited, and so your brain is falling back on your second language, German."
"But…" he said, slowly processing everything. "My German was never this good."
More consulting with the doctor, then, "Because your brain doesn't have to juggle two languages, it's opened itself to all the knowledge of German you have, but has been tucked away since you learned it. It seems immediate improvement in the second language is not uncommon in situations like yours."
Feliciano felt better, knowing there was a scientific explanation for this. "Will I ever remember Italian again?"
"It's very possible for your brain to recover. Can you understand any Italian right now?"
He shook his head. "I can't understand or speak it."
The doctor and nurse conferred with each other and then it seemed they had finished with questions for the time being.
"They're going to order you some brain scans," Ludwig told him. "Since your Italian can come back at any time, they suggest you help it along by trying to read and speak."
Feliciano felt like he was in school all over again, assigned a language he had little knowledge of. But he nodded, telling himself that he needed to do this. Especially for Lovino's sake, because when he looked to his brother, his heart broke.
The doctor and nurse had left, and Lovino had propped his feet on his chair, hugging his legs, his forehead pressed to his knees.
"Ludwig?" Feliciano asked him quietly.
"Yes?"
"Can you tell me – remind me how to say 'brother'?"
Ludwig's blue eyes flit from Lovino's unmoving form to Feliciano. He didn't know whether to call them pitying or sympathetic. Ludwig's statements had been very concise, and his orderliness was evident in other aspects of his person, such as the way he held himself, the extremely neat way in which he was dressed and groomed, and he seemed to have a tight control over his emotions. But Feliciano could read his eyes, and they, at least, gave him hope.
"Fratello."
He repeated it in his head, wanting to get this one simple word right. "Lovino, fratello," he said gently. Lovino picked his head up from his knees, looking sadly at him. Please let Lovino understand this. "I love you."
Lovino's jaw clenched and his eyes shone. He was trying to hold back tears. Lovino never liked to cry in front of people, not even Feliciano.
He was beginning to think that Lovino hadn't understood him at all, but then he nodded and replied, in a whispery voice attempting to hold back a sob, what Feliciano heard to be, "Ti amo."
He hoped it meant what he thought it meant. In addition to being emotionally reserved, Lovino was never outwardly affectionate. Feliciano thought it amusing that they were so opposite in these two traits, despite being confused for twins most of their lives. Feliciano was only sad he couldn't hear it in a language he understood.
Lovino picked himself up out of his chair and mumbled something. Then he left the room.
Feliciano glanced anxiously at the door.
"He said he's going to find you some magazines. To practice."
In truth, Feliciano had briefly forgotten Ludwig's presence, the man was so silent. He also looked torn between staying to help Feliciano and making an excuse to leave. Feliciano could see it in those eyes that were the only way into his thoughts.
"Feliciano. While your brother is gone, I feel the need to let you know something."
"Yes?"
"When Lovino was explaining the accident…" he paused, searching for the words. "Lovino is convinced that the accident was his fault. That you going into a coma was ultimately his fault. Believe what you will, Feliciano, but from what he and the doctor had said, it seemed like a freak accident."
Now Feliciano had an explanation to go with Lovino's uncharacteristic sadness. "I was never going to blame him, Ludwig."
"Well," he said, smoothing his hands over his knees. "I thought you should know."
"Thank you," he replied, smiling.
Ludwig watched him a moment longer, then coughed. "I'm, ah, glad I could assist today."
He made to get up and Feliciano's anxiety spiked. He lurched forward and grabbed Ludwig's arm. "I'm sorry! I mean, thank you very much, Ludwig, I don't know what I would have done without you, but please." Lovino wasn't back yet, and the thought of being alone, unable to speak to Lovino or anyone, really, brought back the fear. "Can you stay just a little longer? Just– just for the rest of today!"
Ludwig sighed. Feliciano just wanted him to stay a couple more hours, at least. In all honesty, he didn't think Ludwig would easily agree but it was a shot he was desperate to take.
To his surprise, Ludwig took his seat again and said, "Alright."
Feliciano, never adept at masking his emotions, grinned and clasped Ludwig's hand in a tight grip in utter relief. "Oh, thank you, Ludwig! Thank you! I promise, when I get out of the hospital I'll repay you!"
Ludwig's gaze darted everywhere but Feliciano's. "I-It's okay. That's not necessary."
"Of course it is," Feliciano replied sternly. "You're giving up your free time to spend time with and translate for a stranger. You're a saint."
It didn't escape his notice the way Ludwig's ears pinked.
"I think it's great that you know both languages. What do you do, Ludwig?"
"I'm, ah, a German language professor. Here in Rome."
"No wonder you speak Italian so well. At least, I trust that you do. You must need to in order to teach here. Professor Ludwig!" Feliciano giggled, thinking of this stern, serious man in front of a class. Ludwig's lip twitched in what Feliciano suspected would be the closest he was going to get to seeing the man smile. It made him grin until his eyes crinkled.
The door opened and a sullen, yet wary, Lovino entered. He held a stack of magazines in his arm and his eyes looked redder than when he'd left. Feliciano sobered at the thought that his brother might have been crying. And Feliciano couldn't comfort him with words.
He sat in his original seat, eyes glued to Ludwig's hand, which was still clasped between Feliciano's.
Without losing energy, he let go of Ludwig's hand and made himself open to Lovino. He figured that if he couldn't necessarily talk to him, then he could help Lovino be more comfortable with him. It was all so hard. It was like his own brother was more of a stranger than Ludwig was.
Lovino and Ludwig shared a brief conversation, Lovino terse and more agitated than before. On the one hand, Feliciano was glad the Lovino he knew and loved was coming back. On the other hand, he didn't like that his brother's attitude was directed mostly toward Ludwig.
Ludwig instructed him to pick a magazine. Lovino would help him read it, then Ludwig would help him translate it. They worked like that for a while, until Feliciano was able to retain the easy, repeated words. But it was still nothing like before the accident.
With his brain cramming what it thought was an entirely new language, Feliciano tired soon after their lesson began. Visiting hours were over soon and the sun was setting.
Feliciano grabbed Ludwig's hand again as he made to leave. "Remember," he said, smiling, "I want to repay you when I get discharged."
Ludwig sighed. "Fine."
A bit nervously, he said, "Could I have your number, Ludwig? I want to be able to arrange something with you when I get out, but… if you could do me a favor? Can I call you, if I need to talk to you?"
Ludwig didn't reply right away, and Feliciano bit his lip.
"I'm sorry, Ludwig. I know you've done so much already, but–"
"That's fine."
Feliciano blinked. "What?"
Ludwig took a pen and a sticky note from his side table and wrote down his number, handing it to him. "I don't mind."
Feliciano beamed. "Thank you! Oh! Grazie!"
Ludwig's lip twitched again, his ears looking slightly pinker than they were minutes ago. Feliciano watched him say goodbye to Lovino as well and exit the room.
Lovino rose once again, hastily flashed his palm and said, "Aspetta."
Feliciano remembered that one. Wait.
Lovino followed Ludwig out the door. Feliciano's nerves churned in his stomach. He wasn't sure how Lovino felt about Ludwig, but he could guess that it wasn't anything too positive. Lovino never liked many people.
But Feliciano himself… he thought Ludwig was kind and patient. He thought of how Ludwig spent nearly his entire day sitting with Feliciano – a stranger to him! – and taking the time to translate. He may have been a language professor, but it was still a tough job to do without planning for it.
Feliciano found himself smiling at the thought of that big, serious man. He really hoped he would get out of the hospital soon.
Ludwig was at the end of the hallway when Lovino called out his name. Judging by how the tetchy man had acted throughout the day, Ludwig didn't want to spend more time than necessary talking to him. For some reason, Lovino didn't like him, it was plain to see.
"Hey, you," he said, approaching him. Lovino only came up to his nose in height, but he sure knew how to puff himself up. "I need to tell you something."
Ludwig refrained from sighing. "Yes?"
"Thank you. For today," he said, as if it were paining him to do so. "But don't get involved with Feli anymore. He'll get better, and he doesn't need extra people hanging around."
Ludwig faced him squarely. "Can you converse with him in German?"
Lovino reacted as if he'd been slapped. "No, but–"
"Feliciano asked permission to call me while he cannot speak Italian, and I agreed."
"He gets attached to people very easily," Lovino retorted, face going red. "We don't know who the hell you are."
"I'm a professor at the university who agreed to help you. And now I'm leaving. I've no doubt your brother will do as he wishes. Goodbye."
Ludwig walked away, Lovino's curses fading as he closed the doors behind him. He thought back to Lovino's actions throughout the day. It was obvious that Lovino was protective of Feliciano, and that he blamed himself for the accident. Perhaps he disliked Ludwig because he could help in a way Lovino could not. It was a guess.
Ludwig pulled out his phone to text his brother that he was coming back. Absently he began flicking through his contacts.
Oh. That's right. He gave Feliciano his number, but he never got his. Ludwig was surprised to find himself disappointed. He didn't really doubt that Feliciano would contact him, but it would have been nice to be able to send a check-up text…
Damnit.
The entire time he spent in front of Feliciano he tried to focus only on translating for this man who'd just woken from a coma. He didn't need to be thinking about how easy his smile was, how bright his eyes were – and he didn't even know Ludwig from Adam.
There were times when Ludwig wanted to leave as soon as possible, but then Feliciano had blinked those big eyes, the color of golden topaz, and twisted his slim fingers around his big hands.
Feliciano could not have been more different than him in every way. But he found himself feeling for this poor young man who had taken him so off guard. He had just come out of a coma for Christ's sake. If he'd said no to Lovino, he would have felt guilty for the rest of the day.
Already Ludwig's nosy brother was trying to figure out what kept him at the hospital for hours. He would not, not give Gilbert this one, because he was no match for Gilbert's infuriating stubbornness.
No one but himself would know that he maybe – quite possibly – wanted to see Feliciano again.
Just to make sure he was doing alright, of course.
That was all.
Hot damn this was supposed to be a one shot. This is a concept I think about from time to time, and after some googling I found that it's an actual thing. Fortunate, too, so that the science behind it wouldn't have to be stretched. I had some difficulty deciding on which characters to use, and ultimately decided that these guys fit best.
Please enjoy this first bit while I figure out what I'm doing next~ Thanks, much love!
