A/N: Everything in parentheses is spoken in Italian, but translated to English, because I'm sure most of you don't speak Italian.

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"Our truest life is when we are in our dreams awake." - Henry David Thoreau

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Feliciano's fingers traced along the familiar embossed cross on the old bible. A simple lift of the cover revealed the most beautiful word ever laid down in ink.

'Vargas.'

That one little word, his surname, was proof without a doubt that at one point he had a family. At one point there was a loving hand that had scrawled that name on the inside cover. Feliciano could only dream of who that hand belong to, but dreams were better than nothing by far.

They were there for him, every night he saw their faces. A man who he recognized as his grandfather, but appeared rather young to be a grandfather to anyone. There was also an older brother to Feliciano, his age ranging from six or seven, to ten years, depending on when the dream was set.

The dreams were so lovely, always seen through his eyes as if he were but a very small child. Stories of ancient cities, old god and goddesses, of love and adventure. Paintings lining the walls, and long nights spent by the fireplace, lulled to sleep by the gentle strumming of a guitar. Feliciano had found that no matter how hard his reality became, those dreams would always make it worth it.

Maybe he was a little crazy for having made up a family in his head, but it was what he needed to cope, and there was no way he could throw out the lovely fantasies yet. There was still two more years he'd have to spend in foster care, and even then, what would come next? He still wouldn't have a family. He still wouldn't have friends. He still wouldn't have a love. The old bible and the pretend family were quite literally all he had.

Until he answered the door, that day.

A knock at the door warranted no unusual circumstance, as people would often come visit the home looking to adopt, or to ask Ms. Rinaldi if she were willing to take in another, (the answer was always no.)

He stood up from off the couch where he had lain, dreamily dwelling on his make believe family and his very real heirloom bible. He made his way to the door, drearily, wondering if the person behind the oak barrier was interested in turning him down like the other...oh how many had it been? Forty-three? Feliciano wasn't sure, he'd begun to lose count. No one was very interested in a clumsy, dumb, loud, teenage boy. No one had even wanted him when he was younger and cuter, outside of that one family, but Feliciano would rather have been rejected one hundred times over than have to be adopted by anyone like them again.

He turned the knob and swung the door open, and where he'd usually insert a polite greeting in Italian, a gush of air flew out of his mouth. It was either the most disheartening coincidence ever, or his dreams had literally come true.

His eyes were met with those of someone who seemed a little surprised to see him as well, but then surprise faded to vague grumpiness. It wasn't the expression that had caught Feliciano so off guard, though.

It was his face.

The hazel eyes, leaning a little towards green, the same soft features as Feliciano, but slightly worn as if with anger and contempt. His hair was dark brown, nearly black, and cut like Feliciano's, except his part was just a little off to the side. He even had the same curl jutting out awkwardly from his head, though this mans was protruding from his hairline, rather than his left lobe like Feliciano's.

There was no mistaking it, this man was the older version of the brother that so frequently inhabited his dreams. He seemed the right amount of years older than Feliciano, even. He also stood just an inch or two taller.

Feliciano's lower lip quivered, "L-Lovino..."

The man looked at him peculiarly, causing Feliciano to suddenly become afraid. No, there was no way this man was his make believe brother, no. Lovino didn't exist. He was just a dream. Yet, the man spoke after looking Feliciano over curiously for a moment.

"(Yeah, it's me. Why do you look like you just saw a fucking ghost or something? And where's your shit, didn't that broad tell you I was coming today?)"

Another wisp of air escaped Feliciano's lips, it felt as if all the wind had been knocked out of him, He took a moment to choke out a sentance, "(T-today? No one...no one even told me th-that I even h-had a-a-a...)" It took several tries to get the word out, "(...brother.)"

Lovino looked at him peculiarly, his face filled with even more confusion, "(...How the fuck did you know my name, then? And I never said I was your-)"

"(I guessed.)" Feliciano answered too quickly. He didn't want to creep Lovino out by telling him how he really knew. Unfortunately, Lovino didn't seem to be buying it from the look of disbelief he gave Feliciano.

"(Good goddamn guess, then.)" He muttered dryly, inviting himself into the house and slamming the door forcefully behind him, "(Where's that hag's office? I need to have a talk with her. I filled out so much damn paperwork I might need surgery before I can even hold a pen right again, and then she doesn't even fucking tell you I'm coming to pick you up.)"

"(Y-you were here be-f-fore?)"

"(Yeah, to fill out all that shit so I could get you...that bitch needs to get her act together, dammit. Why the fuck would she not tell you I'm coming today?)"

"(She's not a bitch.)"

What Lovino had said upset Feliciano, a little. Sure, Ms. Rinaldi was a mean, shrewd old woman, but she had redeeming qualities. She still looked out for her foster children. She really did care about them, even if she was absolutely horrible at showing it. She also baked amazing birthday cakes, and had a thumb so green she could make rocks bloom if she wanted. Feliciano had only been with her a few months, but he had known her for long enough to know that she meant well. While he felt like he'd known Lovino for his whole life, he still wasn't sure if half the dreams, memories, whatever they were, were even true. In any case, he had no right to come in and call Feliciano's current caregiver a bitch

That wasn't to say, though, that he didn't want to go with Lovino, because he most certainly did. He wanted out of all the foster homes, he wanted away from all the rejection. He just wanted a real family and a real home. Now that a brother he had thought was just a figment of his imagination had showed up, he was positive that now was his chance. He'd finally get out.

Lovino snorted at the comment, and muttered dryly while looking at nothing in particular, "(If you knew half of what she made me go through for this you might reconsider that.)"

Feliciano wasn't sure what he meant, but he replied anyway, not a trace of doubt in his voice, "(No, I wouldn't.)"

Lovino snorted again, shrugging off Feliciano's comment and changing the topic back to his previous question, "(Just tell me where her office is so I can talk to her.)"

Feliciano nodded, and then reached out one of his small, slender hands to grasp ahold of Lovino's. He looked as if he was going to jerk away for a second, but relaxed a little after a moment, though the sour look from his face didn't fade.

Feliciano could have led Lovino to the office without the hand-holding, but he had just found his brother whom he'd only known in dreams. He wanted to touch him. The real him. He wanted to feel the pulse of someone he shared blood with. He wanted to feel to make sure he was real.

Feliciano led him to the office door at the end of the hallway and released him once they stood in front of it. Feliciano had just begun to raise his fist to knock on the door, but before his knuckles could make contact with the wood, Lovino shouted.

"(HEY, OPEN UP! I WANT TO KNOW WHY THE HELL MY BROTHER ISN'T READY TO GO!)"
Feliciano instinctively took two very large steps backwards, pressing his back against the bedroom door opposite the office. Ms. Rinaldi was not a very pleasant woman before noon, and if one was planning to shout her down before then, it was the equivalent to waving a red cape in a bull's face.

The door whipped open and Ms. Rinaldi's tall, bony form appeared in the doorway. She stared down Lovino with her beady, bespectacled eyes before speaking.

"(Hello, Mr. Vargas. You never informed me of when you'd arrive. You just said you'd be by within the week, whenever you got your plane tickets.)" Her tone was calm and controlled, as it always was. One could never tell her mood by listening alone. You had to look at how she put her hands on her hips, making her look like a tall, ornery bird. Feliciano knew very well, though, that if Lovino pushed her any harder, she'd tear him down in ways only Ms. Rinaldi could.

"(Don't tell me what I said! Anyway, why the Hell did he look at me like I was a fucking ghost? Didn't anyone tell him he had a damn brother?)"

Ms. Rinaldi's eyes narrowed and Feliciano knew a sharp comment was sure to follow, "(No. No one thought you'd actually come to adopt him, and we figured it was best not to get his hopes up.)"

Feliciano's throat tightened, no one had thought Lovino would come for him? Was he really so awful that everyone thought even his own brother wouldn't love him? He steadied himself against the door frame and attempted to not let himself be swayed physically or emotionally by the comment. But this was Ms. Rinaldi. When she hit her mark, she hit it so well that the sharp words would often fly through their target and hit the closest person, as well.

Feliciano could see Lovino's fist clench from behind, and his ears go red, suggest that his whole face had as well. His tone was low, and his words muffled through grit teeth as he took one step closer "(Do you honestly think I would just leave him.)"

Ms. Rinaldi was silent, but her glare spoke an entire novel's worth of answers.

"(He. is. all. I. have.)" Lovino said, quiet and staccato, but throughout his next phrase his voice evolved to a shout, "(I would never just leave him here. Do you even know--No, does anyone even know how fucking long I've waited to get him out of shitholes like this?)"

"(Too long.)"

Lovino froze for a second, and seem to coil back at the words, they seemed to have hit him in a place Feliciano couldn't see. Lovino spoke quietly, looking down at the floor, "(I know, but I'm here now.)"

"(It would have been much nicer for Feliciano if you would have been here eight months ago.)"

Lovino's fist tightened and he said nothing. Feliciano thought, eight months ago...that was back when he'd been adopted by that horrible family...the one that had-

"(N-no! That's not his fault!)" Feliciano shouted desperately, his mouth outrunning his mind.

Lovino and Ms. Rinaldi stayed where they were, no one saying anything to confirm or deny what Feliciano had said. Though the silence was answer enough.

"(Please, no one can help it when things like that-)"

"(Shut-up, Feliciano.)" Lovino spat.

Feliciano was hurt by his brother's quick, sharp tongue. A long silence followed before anyone spoke again.

"(Mr. Vargas,)" Ms. Rinaldi heaved a sigh, "(You filled out all the paperwork, correct?)"

"Sì."

Her black eyes trained on Feliciano, her glasses catching a glare and hiding what emotion lay behind them, "(Feliciano. Pack your things, you're going with your brother.)"