Goals

by alphatabris

It's not a good thing, having to grow up too fast. / Antonio and Lovino are sent to an orphanage after a series of tragic events when they were young. But it's not safe, and something has to be done.

# Chapter One - 5-10, 0-5

"Grand-pèèèèèèèèèère," Francis whined, tugging on Romas shirt. He was sitting in the hospital waiting room, along with Antonio, the toys that had been given to them discarded on the floor. Both five year olds were impatient, waiting for the chance to see a new baby. "When will we get to go in? We've been here for ageeeeeesssss."

Roma laughed. He wasn't their Grandfather by blood, more like a friend of the parents that had left their children due to lack of money and proper caring ability. The baby they were waiting for, however, was his daughter's son.

"Soon, young ones, soon. His mother went through a lot yesterday."

Both children pursed their lips and crossed their arms in unison.

"How hard can it be for us to go in? Nobody else is going in. Why can't we go in?" Antonio piped up, and Francis nodded earnestly.

"They have to wash the baby, and feed him." Roma looked up, and noticed a few angry glares from some of the patients, obviously annoyed that Roma couldn't keep his grand children's voices down. It was , after all, as Francis and Antonio had wanted to visit as soon as possible, and Roma couldn't deny that he wanted to as well.

"This is a hospital, you two, so you should-" The door to the left of them opened and an intern popped her head through. Antonio and Francis's reactions were instant, running over to her and looking up with hopeful faces.

"Can we see them now?"

"Can we go, can we go?"

"U-uh..." The intern blinked at them, then looked at her small clipboard. "Roma Vargas, Anton-"

"That's us! That's us, Grandpa!" Antonio pushed past the intern, Francis quickly following suit.

"Oi, you two, you don't even know where you're going!"

"Uwaaaaaaaah!" The children gasped as they looked at the baby, wrapped in cloth and held in his mothers arms. His hair matched his mothers, thin and brown, and even though he was sleeping, he had a small frown set on his face.

"He's beautiful!" Francis reached over to softly pat the baby's head

"What's his name, Aletta, what's his name?" Antonio looked up with sparkling eyes.

"Lovino, dear. His name is Lovino. Here," She handed Lovino to Roma before pulling the older children onto her bed.

Antonio turned to Aletta. "I'm gonna be a great friend! His best friend! We'll play in the field, and swim together, and get ice cream."

"Whaaat?" Francis frowned at him. "Non non! I'll be his best brother. I will teach him many things about France, and we'll travel all over the world together!"

"W-well..." Antonio thought of something to one-up Francis, and clapped his hands together when he got it. "I'll be his husband! Then we'll be together forever!"

Francis gasped. "No way! I'm going to be his husband!"

"No, I am!"

"I am!"

"Boys, boys," Roma laughed, and Antonio could catch a hint of nervousness in his voice. "I don't think Lovino-"

"Dad." Aletta suddenly gave a serious look to her father, and he silenced himself. She looked back at the boys and smiled softly. "Lovino will choose, okay? You can't make him do anything."

Antonio and Francis pouted.

"I'm going to play with him everyday!"

"I'm going to play and talk to him everyday!"

"You can't play without talking, Francis."

"Oi, you two," Aletta giggled. "He's only a day old. He can't play with either of you just yet." As if to prove the point, Lovino started crying, and Roma quickly handed him back to Aletta, who slowly rocked him backwards and forwards, shushing him.

"Is he hungry? Does he need to be changed?" Roma fussed over Lovino as Aletta tried to calm him down.

"No, I think he's just tired."

"Tired? But he was just sleeping!" Francis raised an eyebrow at Lovino. "You're weird, baby."

"I don't think he's weird," Antonio retorted quickly. He was going to get Lovino, not Francis. He was sure of that. He turned towards Lovino, who was whimpering. "Marry me when you're older, okay?

Antonio kept up to his promise, hardly ever spending a day away from Lovino as he slowly got bigger, and learned to crawl and hold his drinks by himself. Francis quickly became annoyed with how much Lovino cried, and instead paid more attention to Feliciano, Lovino's younger brother, born a year after. Feliciano was quieter, and smiled more, but Antonio couldn't stay away from Lovino. Francis wasn't there any more to take him away from him, and he wasn't going to waste that chance.

Aletta was grateful that Antonio looked after him whenever she couldn't. She was tired, always tired, and Feliciano's birth had made her sick, but Grandpa wouldn't tell him what with. This left Antonio in charge of feeding. Eight year olds could at least pour milk into a cup, after all.

Antonio sat on the ground, staring at Lovino, who was pushing buttons on one of the toys Roma had gotten him. Francis had taken Feliciano outside to look at birds.

Antonio smiled as the younger one frowned when the red button didn't make the noise that it did last time. He wondered what Lovino would look like when he was older, and what he would be like. Antonio could already guess that he was going to be grumpy all the time, shown by the fact that Lovino didn't smile as much as most babies, but this wasn't going to deter him in his goal any less. He'd read about weddings in a big blue book that Aletta kept in the bookshelf in her room. There were a lot of interesting books in there, but that one he'd read the most.

"Nio," Lovino said as angrily as a baby could. He pointed towards a green dial, which his tiny hands were having trouble turning. Antonio quickly twisted it, and Lovino didn't look impressed as all that it did was make a strange clicking noise.

Antonio's heart soared when he found out that a shortening of his name had been Lovino's third word, after Mama and Ma. Antonio didn't think that the second one counted, but Roma had quickly taken it as his own name, and said that he was the proudest of Lovino that he'd ever been. Antonio smiled as Lovino discarded his current toy and take out a new one.

"Our wedding's going to be big, Lovino," He told the baby as he flipped a broken switch over and over again. "It's going to be big, and white, and the cake will have hazel icing, just like your eyes." He smiled as he remembered all the wonderful decorations he'd seen on the food. "All the girls will wear amazing dresses, and we'll wear-" He was cut off by a loud smash from a room down the hall, and then a shout of grief. Lovino jumped and started crying, while Antonio picked him up and went to investigate. He found the door that the noise had come from only a crack open, so he opened it to find shattered glass a few inches away from his feet. A glass that Aletta had been drinking from.

"Grandpa, what's wr-" He stopped mid-sentence as he looked up to find Roma kneeling beside Aletta's bed, his shoulders shaking from sobs. Why was he crying like this? Roma never cried. He was strong, and brave, and he was hardly ever sad unless it came to...

Antonio slowly, fearfully, moved his eyes from Roma to Aletta. Her arm hanging off the bed, her eyes were wide open, blank, staring up at the ceiling, unseeing, a tiny smile still on her lips. Antonio's heart beat faster as he whispered.

"No." The one word of denial made Roma turn his head in surprise. He looked at Antonio and then quickly travelled down to Lovino.

"No, no, no no no no no no NO!" Roma stood up abruptly and punched the wall. Aletta was dead, and Roma had lost his daughter, Francis and Antonio had lost their older sister, and Feliciano and Lovino, Lovino, had lost their mother.

Antonio felt tears rolling down his face just as Francis walked into the room with Feliciano in his arms. Antonio hardly noticed his friend shaking his head and then racing out of the room. He barely even realised the fact that he himself was screaming while Lovino clutched tightly onto him, bawling. Aletta was dead, and all of them were just children.

Roma died on a Tuesday afternoon with bleeding knuckles and a bottle of wine in his hand. He was lying in his chair on the verandah, almost peacefully, when Antonio found his body at nine years old.

He knew that this would happen. Roma had been drinking heavily since Aletta's death, and both Antonio and Francis knew that it wasn't healthy, the way that Roma locked himself up and never talked to anyone. They read that alcohol made you slowly slip away from reality, and if you drunk enough, you would go to sleep.

Roma had slipped too far, and he had been dead to all of them for a while now.

There was only one question.

"What are we going to do, Antonio?" Francis's voice rang out at him, his French accented voice stricken with fear. They didn't have any adults left, and even though they had been looking after both themselves and the Vargas brothers since Roma had tried so hard to find oblivion, they wouldn't be able to get any money now that he was dead. Antonio clenched his fists. How could Roma leave them, leave Lovino to fend for themselves when they weren't even teenagers? Sure, they took the chance that they were unsupervised to read all the adult books that nobody had let them touch before, but they couldn't apply that knowledge when they couldn't see over a bank counter.

They stared at his body, his hair slowly being blown by the wind. It felt wrong to leave him there, but it also felt wrong to drag him to a hole and leave him underground instead. They didn't have the strength to carry his massive body, anyway.

"I don't know," Antonio answered, after what seemed like a lifetime. He hated to admit it, hated that he couldn't do anything. Lovino and Feliciano were now entirely under their care. Lovino...

"We should go," Francis said defiantly. "Maybe to school. Our teachers can help us.

Antonio considered it, and found that as much as he would hate being pitied by them, he couldn't think of any other ideas.

Francis took Antonio's silence as agreement, and started the next question.

"Should we tell them?"

Antonio didn't answer. He didn't want Lovino to see this, not again, not when he could now understand. He wanted Lovino to stay pure, and innocent, even if he had learnt a few more swearwords at his age than was necessary.

"No. No, we'll... run away. And never tell them this. Roma was never around them, anyway. It doesn't matter." He swallowed, and tried to blink the burning tears away from his eyes. He shouldn't be sad. He should be angry, angry at Aletta, angry at Roma, but he thought of Lovino, and knew that his top priority was to keep him happy.

The orphanage was big, grey, and pale, with two chimneys smoking ominously. The clouded windows seemed to judge them, looking down on the group as if they were slugs it was being forced to look at. The gate was peeling, and the garden was dilapidated. Antonio felt Lovino clutch tighter to his hand. It was a bad idea to be here, but there weren't any better ones.

"Alllllright, boys, it's time to start your new life!" The dark haired, pale skinned man rubbed his hands together and smiled with slightly yellowed teeth. Antonio didn't spare him a glance. He was the reason that the brothers were scared. He'd had them shipped off to Germany. As they had lived in a great, rich area of Italy, orphaned children were looked down upon.

"Antonio," Lovino tugged on the older boys sleeve. "It looks mean."

Antonio picked him up and smiled at him. "Hey, I'm sure it's not that bad! There's going to be new books, and new friends." If he could do nothing else, he would at least keep Lovino's mind off of what was obviously not going to be a pleasant experience. The entire place, and the man who had taken them there, oozed of bad intentions.

He opened the gate, and the five of them made their way towards the mansion, the double wood doors opening slowly for someone to come and greet them.

The man at the doors was unwashed and dressed in clothes that didn't fit him. His hair was a pale blond, and he looked down at them all with disdain in his eyes.

"You're the new kids, I'm guessing," He spoke in English heavily accented with German. "Rooms upstairs. Second door on your left. English kid'll show you your beds. Dinner at seven." He left it at that, and walked away, leaving the four children to their own devices as the man who escorted them there slyly smiled and bid them farewell.

Feliciano sniffed. He had always smiled when he was an infant, but when he grew up slightly, everybody found him to be an even worse crybaby than Lovino had been, whining over the most mundane things like having put too much sauce on his pasta or not being able to speak a word correctly. Francis quickly patted his head.

"Antonio's right, Feli. It'll be okay. Just a new experience."

The second that they walked through the door that they were instructed to, they were accosted by three children. All of them blond, but the one at the front having hair closer to platinum than yellow.

"New kids!" He shouted, grabbing the attention from most of the other children in the room. "My names Gilbert, and- wait, you guys speak English, right? The boss told us you were coming from Italy, so-"

"Move it," said a voice behind Gilbert, pushing him out of the way. A boy slightly older than him, the same age as Francis and Antonio, showed himself. Antonio could quickly guess that this one was the English kid the 'boss' had said to talk to.

"The first order of business is your rooms," He continued in a voice that he was obviously putting on to make him sound more adult. Ignoring Gilbert's protests, he nodded towards the stairs. "Your beds are up there, along with your luggage. It came earlier on a different train."

"I had to carry it up, by the way," Gilbert pointed at Antonio. "You totally owe me back!" Antonio opened his mouth to reply but Lovino answered instead.

"Why should we have to owe you anything?"

"Because you speak funny," Gilbert stuck his tongue out at Lovino, who returned the gesture. The English kid scowled.

"Now, if you two stop behaving so childishly," he sighed and stuck his hand out. "I'm Arthur."

"Anton-"

"Francis, mon cher, and how wonderfully nice it is to meet you," Francis quickly took Arthur's hand, shoving Antonio out of the way. He made his accent slightly stronger than necessary. "I do believe we will become quite the pair."

"I- um, o...kay?" Arthur looked stunned as he shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you too?"

Antonio rolled his eyes and looked at Gilbert. He didn't seem too bad. A bit overbearing, but nice.

"Francis has only been reading romance books since he was three. Set on making everyone fall for him."

Gilbert laughed. "A slut already?"

Arthur started. "Where'd you learn that word?"

"Huh? From the boss. Showed me some books. It was pretty... kinky, you know."

"Y-you're too young to know what that means!"

"I'm only one year younger than you, slut!"

Arthur started to retort before Francis quickly slung his arm around Arthur's shoulders. "Now, now, don't bother with children, would you? You should have someone your own age."

Arthur scowled. "It's weird for two guys to be together!" Antonio glared at him out of the side of his eye. Roma had said that, once, in a drunken rage after he had found Antonio kissing Lovino on the hand while they were playing knights and princes. He now knew that his goal was going to be slightly more difficult, but that wouldn't stop him. Nothing would.

"Aaah, but my dear, nothing matters when it comes to love, I swear it. Now why don't you show us to those rooms of ours?" Francis quickly pushed Arthur towards the staircase, leaving Feliciano to move to Antonio instead.

"So," Gilbert turned back to him. "It's good to see new faces. This here's Ludwig, my li'l bro," He patted the head of one of the kids next to him, then changed to the other. "And this ones Elizaveta, my li'l shit."

"Oi!" The girl slapped his hand away. "You're the shit here, Prussian!"

"Little kids shouldn't say such mean words! Anyway, good to have you. Let's be friends!"

Antonio smiled and shook Gilbert's outstretched hand. Despite first appearances, maybe this place wasn't so bad after all.

Antonio couldn't have been more wrong if he tried.

Sure, the kids were alright. There was a small Japanese boy named Kiku, who didn't talk much but was fairly friendly. The three kids from Scandinavia, Tino, Lukas and Mathias never told them how they got to an orphanage in Germany, but often joined in on their games. And finally, Feliks from Poland who spoke snarkily and spent most of his time looking in a mirror, often gave his bread to the younger ones, since he "didn't want carbs clogging up his diet."

Antonio and Francis quickly replaced Ludwig and Elizaveta, and became a tight trio of friends with Gilbert. Ludwig seemed to be happy about not being dragged around everywhere by his brother, and spent a lot of time around Feliciano instead, but Elizaveta seemed desperate to be part of the action.

"I'm invading the town! I'm invading the town!" She shouted as she raised a stick high above her head, charging towards Lovino. He squealed and attempted to run away, but tripped over. Elizaveta swiftly grabbed him and held him around his waist.

"You're my hostage! I've got a hostage! I win!" Lovino tried desperately to kick her.

"L-let me go! Antonio, you idiot, why aren't you saving me?"

"Sorry Lovino!" He shouted as his makeshift sword clashed against Arthur's. "I'm trying to protect you!"

"You're useless!"

"Ha! You'll never get your precious- hey!" Arthur shouted as he was grabbed by Gilbert.

"Go get him, Toni!"

"This is unfair! Come back here, rascal!" Arthur waved his sword, but Antonio wasted no time in tugging Lovino out of Elizaveta's grip.

"Hey, hey! He was my hostage!" Elizaveta jumped up, trying to get Lovino, but Antonio had already lifted him up onto his shoulders. Lovino stuck his tongue out at the girl.

"You can't even beat a pirate!"

"I so can! I pinned down Francis yesterday!"

"That was because he let you."

"Yeah, well..." She pouted, trying to think of an argument. "You can't beat a pirate either!"

"But he does have one protecting him," Antonio grinned and picked up his sword again. "Come on, Elizaveta, join my crew and we can take down Captain Arthur together!"

Elizaveta's eyes brightened. "Really?"

"Yeah!"

Screaming. Inside the building, a boy was screaming. A large, dark feeling of fear engulfed Antonio as he remembered what had happened the last time that someone had screamed like that. He felt Lovino tighten his hold on him.

"Wh-who's that?"

"New kid," said Gilbert, his face emotionless as he let go of Arthur. He dropped his stick and walked towards the door. "We better go greet him."

They all paused as the next shouts were heard, a mixture of German and English.

"No, no! I don't wanna come here! Let me go!

"Shut up, you little fag, you can't go anywhere else."

"No no no! Where's Mum? Where is she? She said she'd pick me up! Why isn't she here?"

The children outside heard a loud, sharp noise, and then quiet. Gilbert ran inside, while the others took their time in following. They knew what had happened, and didn't want to deal with the worker while he was in this sort of mood.

Gilbert walked out of the room, and the other children listened at the doorway. Even the silent ones who usually stayed inside to read were looking up.

A voice came from the other room. "Well, Gilbert, I hope you can take him. Teach him some manners, would you?" The footsteps faded away while Gilbert reappeared, holding the hand of a crying, eight year old boy with glasses and messy, brown hair. His clothes looked very expensive, but they were ripped in places, and he had a bloody knee. His face had small bruises, and his hands were wrapped in bandages that were starting to come off.

"Elizaveta, help me clean him up," Gilbert said, leading him to the staircase. Elizaveta was the best at basic medical care, as she got in the most trouble, so she quickly followed the two up the stairs.

"What's wrong with him?" Feliciano asked, turning to Ludwig. The German boy simply shook his head.

Antonio knew. The fact that the boy had long sleeves in such hot weather, the fact that the bruises on his face were strategically placed so that it would look like nature had done it. This boy was an abuse victim. And the fact that he was at an orphanage still crying out for his mother, meant that he didn't even know his parents were dead.

It slowly worsened as the year went on. All the kids still went to school, still played outside when it was sunny, still ate enough to fill their stomachs, but barely two months after the four children had arrived, the boss died and his son took over.

The original boss wasn't a good man, per se. He didn't talk to any of the children unless it was necessary, he usually carried beer whenever he was seen, and spent a lot of days hidden in his room with the door locked. But he kept the children happy with each other, and that was all they needed.

The ambulance came one day to pick him up, and Tino had overheard the medics talking about a heart attack, but they were too late.

A social worker walked in the day after that, and explained to the children that the boss was dead, and that they had a new one.

The children shrugged it off. They all knew the pain of losing their parents, and somebody that they didn't even know the favourite colour of was basically just a passing event.

But they quickly regretted taking him for granted a few seconds after the new boss walked through the playroom door

He looked nothing like his father. Dark hair, black eyes, skin that could be mistaken for grey. He kicked open the door with a bang, and smiled with missing teeth as he dropped his cigarette and crushed it on the ground, looking over the children with a gleaming eye.

"Hello, miniature failures, I'm your new head!" He looked straight at Elizaveta, who took a quick step backwards. "A girl, huh? You're my new favourite."

Gilbert and the abused boy, Roderich, quickly stood in front of her.

"You're not touching her," growled Gilbert.

"Awww, are you two jealous? Well, this one doesn't look too bad, either." He nodded at Roderich, and Gilbert instantly pulled him behind his back as well, clenching his fists.

"Neither of them."

The boss chuckled, then took another cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. Feliciano coughed as the smoke floated over to him, and the boss walked over to him kicked him in the stomach. A whine escaped Feliciano's mouth as he doubled over and stumbled.

"Hey, what the fuck was that for?" Antonio shouted as Ludwig dropped to Feli's side.

"Pfft. You're a load of fucking weaklings, ain't ya?" He blew some more smoke at their faces and Francis coughed a bit before glaring at him.

"There's no fucking way you're getting away with this."

"Is that so?" He tapped his cigarette, letting the ash fall on Francis's hair. He hissed, brushing it off.

"I seem to remember turning 36 this year. I wonder how many people will believe some kids over me? Hmmm," He flicked the unfinished cigarette at Mathias's feet and pushed the children out of the way.

"Do whatever the fuck you want for the next three hours. I'll be in my room, so either don't disturb me, or pray when you do."

A month after the new boss's arrival, Antonio turned ten. His birthday wasn't anything special, mostly drawings and congratulations for presents. Lovino had given him a wonderful drawing of Antonio holding a tomato, blushing and stuttering as he handed it to him. Antonio would have hung it up on his wall if he had any tape, but he didn't, so it stayed on his bedside table under his lamp. Lovino scowled every time he saw it and wondered why Antonio didn't throw it away.

Because it's from you, Lovino! That automatically makes it precious to me!

"Lovinooooooo!" Antonio sang as he walked into their room. "Let's go to town today, okay? The music shop has some new- Lovino?"

Lovino turned, looking startled, and quickly stuffed something under his bed. "I'm fine. Let's go."

Antonio raised an eyebrow, then giggled. He'd probably just been drawing something. "Alright, come on!"

Walking along the sunlit streets of the town, eating the ice blocks Antonio bought them with money he gained from donations to the orphanage, the ones that the boss didn't care enough to take from them, always brightened their day. Antonio considered these times as dates, even if Lovino scowled at him and insulted every word about romance that came out of Antonio's mouth. The town was small, so it never took long to walk around the entire thing. The locals were kind to them, but not many knew languages that weren't German, so their conversations were limited to greetings and gesturing towards the things Antonio and Lovino wanted to buy.

"Hey, let's stop in here, okay?" Antonio pointed at the jewellery shop. The sun was starting to set, so Antonio thought that window shopping was a good way to end their trip. "You like pretty things, right? Let's go look at them."

"But-" Lovino started his sentence, then shook his head. "Yeah, let's go in."

They stepped through the door into a small air conditioned room, a bell tingling after them, but nobody showed at the counter.

"Maybe we should leave," Lovino talked hurriedly and looked around, like he didn't want to be there. Antonio frowned at him.

"Are you serious? This is a chance to try on the more expensive things!" Antonio walked over to the front counter, where an assortment of sparkling gem rings were sitting. He pulled against the glass, and was delighted to find that it was unlocked. It would be dangerous to jump over the counter to try and find the keys, after all. It seemed strange that the owner had suddenly up and left, leaving things unlocked, almost convenient, but Antonio paid it no mind.

He looked over them, searching for a good one. He reached for a small ring, a silver band with several gems of different shades of green studded around it.

"This one's perfect, Lovino!" He held it in front of the younger boys face to let him inspect it. His eyes shined as he took it.

"It looks nice. I like red better though." He passed it back to Antonio, who went back to find a red one. The one he picked up was flatter, but it a made a glittering mosaic pattern with rubies. He tossed it in the air and caught it before turning back to Lovino, and dropped onto one knee.

"H-hey, what are you doing?" Lovino's cheeks started reddening as he realised what Antonio was doing.

"Ah, Lovino, it may be too soon, but-"

"It is too soon! Way way way too soon! We're nowhere near being adults, moron!"

Antonio just grinned at him. "Come on Lovino, hold out your hand."

Lovino scrunched up his nose, but slowly raised his right hand. Antonio stuck his tongue out at him.

"No, silly, your left hand, that one leads to the heart." He reached for Lovino's other hand, but he moved it behind his back.

"The right one's fine," Lovino looked worried. Antonio tilted his head in confusion.

"What's wrong? Lovino, come on," Antonio reached for it again, and Lovino stepped back.

"It's fine!"

"No it's not! Show me, Lovino, what's wrong?" Lovino quickly stumbled backwards, but Antonio grasped his wrists.

"Ow, FUCK!" Lovino forced his left hand out of Antonio grip as if he'd been burnt, a tear sliding down his face.

Antonio froze and dropped the ring. "Lovino..."

Lovino swallowed, and let Antonio carefully take his arm and slide his sleeve back as he hissed in pain.

"Sorry, Lovino, sorry."

His left wrist was completely bruised, sickening splotches of purple and yellow blurring together.

"I was trying to bandage it up before," Lovino spoke in a shaky voice as the older boy looked over it. So that's what he was hiding under his bed.

Antonio had never felt angrier at a blemish in his life. Somebody had hurt Lovino, somebody had hurt his Lovino.

"The Boss..."

"No. No it wasn't him," Lovino said frantically, shaking his head. Antonio looked up at him.

"He told you not to tell or he'd hurt you more... right?"

Lovino considered, then slowly nodded.

Antonio gently let Lovino's hand down before he clenched his fists. He felt like walking into the orphanage, kicking the door of the boss's room open and grabbing the nearest weapon to smash his head in. Several similar violent thoughts followed before he realised none of them would work. He looked down at Lovnio, who was wiping his tears off his face, and knew that there was only one thing they could do.

They had to leave.