Ah, I'm back to writing a long story. This one's a bit messed up, but not too much. Once again, boy x boy, NO LIKE-Y NO READ-Y! Reviewers get imaginary chocolate chip cookies! Sorry my writing's sucky. I'll write as fast as I can manage.
When I woke up it was dark. I had absolutely no idea what had happened to me or where I was. What I could tell was that I was sore all over and thinner than I could ever remember being. It felt like someone was tearing my head apart from the inside out. Even though I didn't know where I was I could tell that I had been in the dark for quite a while. Small thoughts began to tug at the edge of my mind.
Where was I? Where was my family? Was Papa worried? The silence was ringing in my ears and making me feel woozy. I sat up and felt around. My glasses were nowhere to be found. I felt disgustingly dirty as if I hadn't washed in a while. My clothes were also dirty, but I was glad they were there. My old hoodie was comforting and warm.
I was beginning to accept staying wherever I was for a while, even until I died, but then I heard voices. They got closer and I realized they sounded professional and urgent. 'Police! They're coming to get me!' I thought and immediately relaxed. A door opened in front of me, the first light I'd seen in what felt like ages streaming in. I shielded my eyes, waiting for them to adjust and when they did, I removed my arm and looked up, directly into cold blue eyes.
I squeaked in surprise and scrambled backwards, my stringy hair falling into my face. The man I was looking at had a police uniform on and blonde hair slicked back into a ponytail. He looked at me intently and reached out a hand. Eventually I realized what he was doing and shakily took his hand, allowing him to pull me up. I started to feel dizzy, and by the time I stood up completely, I slumped into him and my world went black.
I sank back in my chair as the teacher in front of the classroom droned on. Something about the history of Math. I let my head fall back and groaned as I stared at the ceiling. 'Why can't we just learn about something interesting, like war?' I thought to myself. I tilted my head forward again to see the teacher had stopped talking and was standing there with her hands on her hips, staring at me.
"If you find my class so boring Mr. Beilschmidt, you may leave and go to the principal's office." She said. I sighed. I would've loved to tell her off, but today I couldn't. I shook my head instead.
"No ma'am." I said. She stared at me for a few more seconds then continued to teach. I glanced at the clock for the millionth time that day and, seeing the time, grabbed one of the handles on my bag. With the other hand I piled my books on my desk quietly. I glanced at the clock again and tightened the grip on my bag. No time to loose. The bell rang, announcing the end of the last class until Monday.
We had a long weekend, but that wasn't the reason I was currently dashing through the halls, dodging people like I was in a video game. My dad was a police officer and was currently working on a really important case. Some insane Russian guy had been kidnapping kids. Supposedly they found where the bastard was staying and today they were going in.
I ran through the parking lot, dodging cars while looking for my brother's. We're originally from Germany, where our dad used to work. We were actually adopted from one of his earlier cases. We were found on an abandoned battlefield, where our parents were killed. I was 7 years old and my brother was about 5. I stopped in front of my brother, Ludwig's car, an old black Volkswagen pickup that we've been working on for the last few months. He was standing in front of it with his boyfriend, Feliciano.
Next to each other, they were polar opposites. Feliciano was of Italian descent, tan and light-haired. He was always happy and carefree, always talking at breakneck speed about whatever was on his mind. Ludwig, on the other hand, was completely German. He had icy blue eyes and pale skin. His hair was always neat and slicked back, and I swear he was OCD about pretty much everything. He kept to himself most of the time, only opening up to me and Feliciano.
Yeah, my brother's gay, but it's not like our dad cares. The reason for that will come later. Pretty much everyone I know is gay. My two best friends are gay too. Antonio's boyfriend is actually Feliciano's twin and Francis is pretty much just an all-out perv. Even that idiot Alfred Jones has a boyfriend, a British kid that Francis used to fawn over. The only people I know who aren't gay are my friend Elizaveta and her boyfriend Roderich, but then again, she's a total fangirl. I know, a lot of gay guys. Must be something in the water.
We hopped in Ludwig's car and were off before I could buckle my seat belt. My brother and I were the same way about our dad's work.
"He should be out by now, did he contact you yet?" Ludwig asked me. I had had my phone on all day, but he hadn't called yet.
"No, but he should be calling any time." I said and just like that, my phone rang, making Feliciano jump in his seat. My ring tone is a German band called Rammstien. You may have heard of them, they're really popular. They scare the shit out of Feliciano, though. He says they sound angry. I picked up the phone without checking the caller ID.
"Tell Ludwig we got the Russian." He said simply and hung up. That was all I needed to know.
"They've got him, West!" I shouted. Usually he would yell at me for shouting in his car and calling him West, but today he just pressed down harder on the pedal, pushing on toward the police station.
I woke up in a room with a kind-looking Phillipino woman in a police uniform leaning over me. It was brighter than before, a light fixture right behind her making a halo around her head, as if she were an angel. I sat up slowly, the pain in my head beginning to fade away, leaving me slightly dizzy.
"W-where am I?" I asked shakily, not completely sure of my voice yet. The woman smiled and helped me off the cot I was lying on.
"You're at the police station. You're going to be alright." She said, leading me into an interrogation room.
"We're going to need to record everything you know. Please take a seat, someone will be in shortly." She said, smiling reassuringly at me before stepping out.
Ludwig drove like a very law-abiding NASCAR racer. He drifted carefully (or as carefully as you can drift) into a parking space, ending up perfectly parallel to the lines. We practically ran through the security in front of the police station, flashing our IDs even though everyone there knew who we were.
We skidded into our Dad's office just as he looked up from his papers. He took off and folded the glasses perched on his nose and smiled. My heart beat a little faster. That was an extremely good sign. It's not every day you see a man as stern as my dad smile. He handed each of us a manila folder with papers inside it.
"Study this. Keep up your training and next year you'll be able to intern here. By the time you graduate, you'll be the best damn cops any state can find." He said. Our dad had been training the both of us to be police officers since we had been able to read and write. We turned and started to walk toward the door when he called out.
"Gilbert, Ludwig, come here a second." We did as he told and he turned to face us completely, staring both of us in the eye, one at a time.
"We found a boy around your age in the place where he was staying. His parents are dead and we'll be housing him for a while. Make him feel welcome." He turned to me. "He'll be staying with you. He can use your spare bed for now."