"I hope those brothers are in good health…"
"I think they have family in the south, the elder speaks often of the country air and neighbors there. Perhaps they have retreated to the south."
"I certainly hope so. Come, let's be off."
"Feliciano, get away from that window." Lovino was in pain, a dull ache from the dying in his home, sores small and graying as he hobbled from his seat near the bed towards the window his brother sat in, crying silent tears of pain that shuddered throughout his body, the swollen glands on his body, the fever that left him glistening with sweat even with the chill breeze scented by the smoke of Poveglia blowing in from the coast of Venice. He'd come to help care for his sibling when he'd first heard of the outbreaks, recalling how bad a previous bout had been, but how was he to nurse Feliciano back to health, when the fool wouldn't stay in bed for more than thirty minutes? It hurt to move for him, he knew it had to hurt worse for Feliciano, so why did he persist in moving back to the window? "You'll get sicker."
"They're killing people there, Lovino." It was the quietest he'd ever heard his brother be, and Lovino sat on the sill with the smaller man, wondering how much of the tears were from pain and how much were from something else. "That island. There are people there that aren't even dying yet, and shouldn't be dying yet, but they're dying." Feliciano's body shook and for a moment Lovino was afraid it was another seizure, before he heard the sob muffled into the man's knees. "They're suffering hell, brother."
"…Just bear with it, Feliciano, you'll survive this, you survived the last one." Lovino wasn't entirely sure his brother would be able to survive, the pain rendered him unable to eat more than a few bites every so often, even of his beloved pasta, unable to sleep for more than uncomfortable minutes at a time. He was thin, unhealthily so, and his skin that wasn't covered in black sores was pale as moonlight. It was terrifying, to have this uncertainty, but he wouldn't voice it, for fear of cursing his sibling. If Feliciano knew this fact or took comfort in the unsure assurances, he never registered it aloud, continuing his quiet sobs.
"I saw them dragging the Signora that sells fabric at the market out yesterday. Her and her children. Even the baby. They just christened the baby last week, and now… they said Poveglia, they were going to Poveglia, and no one ever comes back from there." Feliciano was obviously distraught over this, and Lovino couldn't blame him in the least. He'd heard about Poveglia, and that was the place that had been hurting Feliciano the most lately, he worried about them coming to investigate them too, and taking them away. They couldn't die, not as easily as a human could, what would happen to them? Would Feliciano go insane, among the dead of his citizens and bodies of children emaciated but otherwise uninfected, the rotting corpses that spread their stench across the water before and during burning, and stuck in one's nose even after. Feliciano wasn't as strong as others, never had been. Lovino shuddered at the thought of the people living, buried alive under bodies diseased and decaying. To subject Feliciano to that would break him.
Heedless of his own pain and suffering, Lovino picked his sibling up and carried him back over to the bed, laying him down, tucking a thin blanket over him, smoothing his bangs away from his face while minding that one odd curl. "I won't let them take you to Poveglia. I promise, little brother." Feliciano wouldn't let go of his hand, tears rolling down his face from the effort it took to hold on, and Lovino sat on the edge of the mattress, gingerly holding the younger Italian's hand. "I promise, Feliciano. They won't take you there as long as I live."
"Thank you, big brother…" he smiled faintly, letting his eyes close to fall into one of his fitful naps. Even though he could have let go (there was food to prepare, cleaning to do, something to keep up the semblance of a working Venitian household and help keep his promise), Lovino remained at his spot, keeping a close watch on Feliciano, making sure he kept breathing, kept sleeping, and kept the nightmarish visions of the plague pits at bay.