So this is only the first Prologue. Honestly, I enjoy the Ludwig/Francis pairing and there's so few stories written for this pairing that it makes me sad. So here's my contribution. To understand the story, I recomend you listen to the song the title is named after. "Je suis un Homme" by Zazie. Anyway, this is going to be a relatively... darker story. There will be sprinkles of humor and such, but this is going to be more focused on the feelings of the two as well as their relationship. This will likely be updated when I'm in a depressed mood so updates may be few and far between with random spurts of update after update. But yeah... please enjoy, and I'm sorry if I get anything wrong in here. Like I said, more focused on the characters than events in history.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, songs, or anything historical or copyrighted in this fic. All I own is the plot and the sick and twisted nature my mind takes form with this fic.

Je suis un Homme

Prologue 1: Denn die Liebe

Ludwig loved Feliciano.

The little Italian had always been stead fast by his side through out the war. He had always been a constant figure in the German's life since they had first met. First coming into his orbit in World War I and then their bond only being deepened during World War II. Even after Ludwig's cruelty near the end of the war had caused the little Italian to become more determined to help his friend. It became his goal in life to free the German from the insanity surrounding him. And that's what he'd done. He'd found the key to unlock the chains keeping his heart far from the world. He had forced his way through the barriers and broken down the walls that had formed over the years. And in the midst of the rubble, the German was scared. Until a slender and soft hand had been held out to him, offering the guidance he so desperately needed, a loving and warm smile offering reassurence and a place to run to for comfort. It was home... And in those seconds, life seemed oh so much brighter.

Ludwig loved Feliciano...

…

But the Italian didn't love him back...

Ludwig loved his brother.

From the time he'd been found by the Prussian, he'd greatly questioned his parenting skills. Gilbert had a tenancy to forget about certain things. An occasional missed meal. Forgetting he had to be back at a certain time to take care of his sibling. Forgetting schooling. Forgetting to hold his tongue and forgetting about crude langauge. Forgetting about showing affection. And yet Ludwig still loved his brother. The Prussian would leave for late night rendez vous with his closest friends and Ludwig would stay up late, watching the door for when his brother would come home. He never stayed up late enough, his brother returning to the blond curled up on the floor by the door, one of Gilbert's shirts or coats wrapped around the small body. Even through the war, Ludwig's patience with the Prussian never died. The Prussian had even been with him through out the invasion of one of his closest friends, taking Paris right alongside the country he'd helped raise. And at the end, when the wall had been built, the German had waited. Diligently he visited the wall every day, from dawn to sunset, he was out there pacing the length of the wall that separated him from his only family. When the hammers started to ring, the German was right there, throwing his weight into every hit until the wall fell. And on the other side had been his brother, climbing through the debris only to pull his Bruder into his arms.

Ludwig loved his brother...

…

But his brother had a new person to protect...

Everyone Ludwig loved seemed to be drifting away. He had no one to confide in. No longer was he able to be held with the security he missed from his older sibling. No longer did he feel the presence of a lithe Italian lying beside him when he slept. Somehow, over time, Feliciano's attention had been drawn to the less intimidating Prussian, affections soon forming on the brunet's side. Affections that were soon very much returned. Gilbert and Feliciano were dating after that. Gilbert's attenion was fully on the Italian, his constant games of annoying his brother done. The Italian began to seek refuge in the Prussian's bed instead of the German's.

Conversations and meals were shared with the three, Italy seemingly have become a permanent part of the brothers' lives. Feliciano still treated Ludwig as a close friend, but most of the close touches and affection had stopped, the line becoming clear where the two stood. A hug was normal, but only on rare occasions would the Italian give him a small peck on the cheek, grinning widely as he always did.

In the case of Gilbert, it was as if the Prussian had forgotten completely his brother had ever existed. Only when the Italain wasn't around was Ludwig able to converse with his brother. And even then the Prussian would begin to day dream, tuning his brother out completely. His brother had always had a knack for ignoring him, but if the German had needed to talk, vent, or just cry, he'd always been there. Now he was lucky if the Prussian listened for five minutes before his fatansies of an Italian consumed his every thought. Any form of support Ludwig had had was gone. He no longer had anyone he could cry to. Sure Italy would be there to listen, but it hurt too much to be around the smiling Italian. And so Ludwig swallowed his feelings, keeping his thoughts to himself, and plastering on a fake smile for the rest of the world. Only those outside the house hold seemed to notice the subtle changes, among the select few being Lovino and Antonio. And for once, the insults from the elder Italian had seemed... lacking in their usual hatred.

Despite this, the German still ended up alone at night. The only company being his dogs... and the German Luger he kept close at hand. For the time he finally got the nerve to pull the trigger...