Lovino was running across the deck, his feet slipping and staggering on the slick patches of ice and water that had begun to gather atop the surface of the metal floors, his amber eyes wild beneath his sweaty auburn hair.

Fratello... fratello... where is he?

The Italian flinched again, remembering the pulsing masses of his fellow steerage passengers that had fought to make it up onto these decks that they had been banned from, remembered the chaos and the shouting, the trampling of those who had fallen or slipped, the screaming and sobs of those that were left behind to die, the last glance of his brother's face as Feliciano's hand slipped from his own and was lost among the crowd...

Lovino's body trembled along with the ship as another shudder ran through the massive body that was supposed to be unsinkable. He lurched against the nearest railing, his fingers curling around the metal until his knuckles had turned white. He turned his head and continued to scan the faces around him, searching for his fratello, while the water slowly began to rise from below to take him into a watery hell.

Another lurch, a scream of tearing metal that didn't quite drown out the screams of the hundreds that were still aboard. Lovino reflexively tightened his grip and choked back his own scream, his amber eyes momentarily abandoning their impossible search to stare pleadingly up at the glittering heavens. An image flashed through his crazed mind... An image of Italian nights and warm green eyes and juicy tomatoes a-and heat... the heat of loving bodies pressed against each other in forbidden embraces, always promising more.

Promising..

Promise me... Promise me that we'll grow old together, Lovi... You'll be so cute when you get old, mi tomatito...

Just promise me... Please...

"S-sorry, bastard," Lovino whispered to the absent Spaniard, his lips twisting in a pained sneer.

The screams continued to rise around him and running feet passed without a pause, never noticing or caring about the young man that huddled by the railings and called out for his brother, his amber eyes always returning to the stars above before they drifted down to the sea.

Promises can be broken...

Feliciano whimpered as the crowd pressed in around him in a convulsing mob, his small hand clasped tightly in the steely grasp of another man. The young Italian stared at the blond head of the German that was leading him, his tearful hazel eyes wide with fear. Ludwig's jaw was tight, his blue eyes determined as he pushed impatiently through the crowds, his tattered white shirt and black trousers still caked in coal dust and damp with sweat. The German's gaze never left the path that he was forging in front of them, his fingers tightening every so often around Feliciano's to ensure that the Italian didn't leave him.

They had been in this position for a while, ever since Ludwig had smashed his way into the lower decks that had been a temporary home for Feliciano and his older brother, Lovino. Feliciano whimpered again at the thought of his brother, his tears spilling over onto his frozen cheeks as he remembered calling out for Lovino, struggling to move towards him through the mob when they were separated, screaming and begging for Ludwig to go back when the German pulled him into a tight embrace and dragged him away.

Now they were running across the upper decks of the ships, hurrying towards one of the only lifeboats that had not yet been cast off into the depths below. A pale man with stark white hair cried out when he saw Ludwig approaching, immediately drawing the attention of two other blondes that stood nearby. The two blondes hurried towards the lifeboat just as Ludwig reached it, their expressions ranging from relief to confusion as the albino clasped Ludwig's shoulder and tried to pull him in.

"C'mon, bruder, I can just fit you in here while that superior of mine is distracted," the albino hissed frantically, his scarlet eyes bright with overwhelming relief.

Ludwig just shook his head and pulled Feliciano forward, his trembling muscles the only sign of his own fear.

"Nein," he said firmly. "Not me. Gilbert, you need to take Feliciano, get him to safety."

Gilbert... This, then, was Ludwig's brother, the trouble maker that Ludwig had complained about to Feliciano shortly after their first meeting, the older brother that had raised and protected Ludwig for most of his life. Feliciano felt a hint of a smile appear on his lips as he looked between the two brothers, his brow furrowing in confusion as he began to grasp what Ludwig was doing.

"W-wha- No! L-Ludwig, you need to come too!" Feliciano cried, his arms thrashing weakly as Ludwig lifted him into a reluctant Gilbert's waiting arms.

Ludwig paused and looked at him, his intense blue eyes so soft in the dim moonlight that they reminded Feliciano of the Italian sky that he loved so much. The Italian bit his lip, remembering how that same gaze had frightened him when they had first met, had reduced him to little more than a babbling idiot when the German found him aimlessly wandering below decks shortly after they left Cherbourg. Ludwig had smiled then, albeit awkwardly... And he was smiling now, his stern face relaxing into a soothing, gentle expression.

"You need to follow my brother now, F-Feli," the German murmured, his voice catching on the nickname that Feliciano had nearly forced upon him less than a day ago. "He will keep you safe."

"N-no! Don't make me leave you, Ludwig, p-per favore!" Feliciano wailed. "I c-can't lose you too! I c-can't be alone!"

Ludwig sighed and leaned forward to press his lips to Feliciano's forehead before the Italian was lowered into the boat, his cheeks reddening slightly when he felt the curious and judgmental gazes of the boat's other inhabitants.

"You will never be alone, Feliciano," he promised solemnly. "Whatever happens, I'll watch over you. A-and you have to remember me and stay strong, understand? Just stay strong and... It will all work out."

Feliciano managed to nod before the tears overcame him again, his eyes still locked with silent desperation on Ludwig's features. Gilbert reached out for his younger brother, his confident features haggard with grief.

"Please, bruder, just get in," he pleaded.

Ludwig shook his head stubbornly. "Nein. I have a duty to this ship and to those on it. I will not leave and let them die."

"Dammit, Ludwig!" Gilbert howled. "They're going to die anyways! Stop trying to be a fucking martyr and save yourself!"

"Nein."

"Please," one of the blondes broke in, his deep blue eyes grim beneath his wavy, shoulder-length golden hair, his cultured French accent wavering from stress and fear.. "My friend... Can you make room for him as well?"

"W-wha- What the hell are you doing, you damned frog?" the other blond demanded in a thick British accent, his abnormally-large eyebrows furrowed above flashing emerald eyes.

"Mon ami," the first blond sighed. "...Arthur. We both know that you are not meant to die here."

"Neither are you, dammit! Francis-"

"Arthur," Francis interrupted again, his voice incredibly gentle. "My friend... you must promise me that you will watch over mon petit Mathieu when you reach America. He has always been like a son to me..."

"Damn you, listen-"

"Promise me," the Frenchman interrupted, his tone immediately reducing the other man to silence. "Arthur, promise me that when you get there, you will tell Alfred how you feel. Do not leave this world without telling him. Promise me this, and I will rest in peace."

Arthur spluttered and glared murderously at the Frenchman, his arms and legs jerking in resistance as Ludwig unceremoniously shoved him into the lifeboat with the sobbing Feliciano.

"I- Y-you damn frog!" the British man yelled. "How dare you give up on me! This isn't- I will not leave you here to die!"

Francis smiled sadly and gave a weak salute to the Brit, a cheeky grin suddenly appearing on his face.

"My apologies, mon ami," he called cheerfully. "But even friendship must take second place to love... Take care of your life, Arthur," Francis added seriously. "I will be watching over you, to make sure that you do not mess anything up with mon cher Alfred."

Arthur shook his head slowly, his hands clenching into fists as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"G-git," he grumbled. "Y-you'd better be there... I-I'd better see you when I tell him."

"Oui," Francis chuckled. "I will be there... I wouldn't miss it."

Arthur nodded again and stiffly turned away, his slim hands reaching out to help Gilbert lower the lifeboat. The albino paused and looked over at Ludwig one last time, his lips trembling with what he would never admit were tears.

"Ich liebe dich, bruder," Gilbert croaked. "A-And if you're unawesome enough to die, I will kill you."

"Ja," Ludwig sighed, a wry smile twisting his lips once again. "Good luck, bruder. Watch over Feliciano."

Gilbert nodded and continued to lower the boat. Ludwig followed the craft's progress into the water, his blue eyes never leaving hazel and scarlet until both of his loved ones had disappeared from view.

Cold... cold water... Ice that had barely turned into liquid, sent straight from the depths of a frozen Hell.

Lovino struggled to move his numb limbs, his hoarse throat screaming profanities and his brother's name into the sky. Screams and moans and the shriek of sinking metal slammed into his ears and spurred him on, his frozen fingers pushing through waves and bodies towards an unreachable hope.

Emerald eyes... Antonio... Feliciano... Fratello, where was his fratello?... Gone... Promise...

A blond head in the distance, thick arms that Lovino had seen around his brother once in a stolen embrace. Without thinking, the Italian latched blindly onto the floating, frozen man, his raw throat alive again with screams, calling and begging for names. The German merely stared back at him, barely conscious, his blue lips trembling with other names and words that Lovino couldn't understand. Lovino cursed and tightened his grip, his legs pushing through the water with weakened power, struggling to pull them both away from death. He would never fully understand why he grabbed the German... But then, he would never fully understand while sweet Feli had chosen such a potato bastard in the first place.

There was light now, coming towards them over the water. Lovino released a final scream, his cracked and frozen lips parting in a silent laughing-sob of triumph as he was pulled towards the light with the German in tow, as the Titanic continued to sink behind them and the screams of the dying continued to haunt the night.

The lights of the sinking ship died when Lovino closed his eyes, sending the world into a darkness that was broken only by glittering heavens.

An Italian, a Brit, and an albino German- er, Prussian- hurried past the huddled groups of survivors that clung to the decks of the Carpathia like newly-formed lichens, warm towels wrapped across their soaked shoulders and dripping clothes. Eyes of hazel, green, and red scanned every face that came into view, searching for the people that they had left behind. The three kept close to each other, despite the fact that they were each looking for different people, their shivering fingers occasionally brushing across each other's arms and backs in an attempt to stay together.

The Italian was the first to cry out in joy and recognition, his scrawny legs propelling him forwards with an inhuman speed towards a secluded corner of the deck reserved for those that were still thawing from the frigid waters. Another Italian with identical auburn hair and weary amber eyes cried out as he was tackled by the ecstatic Feliciano, his own eyes softening as he hugged young Feli back with all of the strength that he could muster.

Arthur and Gilbert slowed to a halt, their lips twitching upwards in vague joy even as their hearts plummeted with dying hope. After a moment, Feliciano's brother stiffened and drew away, his lips moving in rapid Italian that was too soft for the others to hear. Feliciano froze and stared at the other Italian, his hazel eyes filling with tears once more as he glanced past his brother. Gilbert frowned and followed his gaze, his eyes widening when he caught sight of a familiar blond head, of pale and shaking limbs wrapped securely beneath layers of blankets.

It was a close race between Feliciano and Gilbert as they both ran to Ludwig's side, their voices raised in a strange cacophony of German and Italian prayers and words of fervent thanks. Ludwig merely stared up at them, his lips twitching into a bemused and embarrassed smile, his trembling hands now locked in grips of iron. Feliciano's brother watched the exchange with a small, reluctant smile, his own hand clutched tightly between his brother's slim fingers.

Arthur remained alone as he watched the reunions and scanned the decks again, his emerald eyes slipping closed in defeat when he realized that there was nowhere else to look. The Brit moved slowly to the Carpathia's rail and gazed out onto the sea that had now taken his oldest friend, his slim hands rising to pull mercilessly at his tangled, frozen hair.

He would not cry, of course, as that was not a gentlemanly thing to do. But... Still. He supposed that even gentlemen could spare tears... And even the strongest of men could allow their shoulders to shake and their breath to catch in silent sobs.

Only, he would not cry out. He would not mourn aloud.

He wouldn't give the frog the satisfaction.

The docks were never meant to be so crowded and chaotic, but not many seemed to mind on that particular day. Loved ones anxious of a glimpse of the loved ones who were supposed to be alive fought to draw nearer to the ramps that now spilled from the sides of the Carpathia, while reporters, well-wishers, and thousands of others pressed forward as well, wondering with morbid fascination what the faces of survival and devastation would look like on such a windy morning.

Two nearly-identical Italians stumbled down the ramps, their hands clasped together in a tight grip between them. Two Germans followed close behind them, their weary expressions brightening with confusion and amusement when they were nearly overwhelmed by the crowds on the docks. Lovino cursed and hastily pulled his brother off to the side, a grumbled curse breaking through his lips when Feliciano managed to grab Ludwig and pull the two Germans after them.

Dammit... should've just let the bastard drown... Lovino thought sourly. He paused near the end of the dock, his amber eyes searching through the throng once again for a face that he knew well, his tense muscles relaxing the moment he caught sight of a pair of frantic green eyes.

A Spaniard with olive skin and curly brown hair immediately broke away from the crowd and ran towards Lovino, his strong arms wrapping around the elder Italian in a firm embrace. The man sighed into Lovino's hair, his lips curving upwards when the red-faced Italian reluctantly returned the embrace.

Feliciano beamed and deftly released Lovino's hand, his smile widening when he felt Ludwig come up behind him and wrap a tentative arm around his waist.

Gilbert only chuckled and glanced over his shoulder as Arthur also left the Carpathia, his thin features tight with dignity and anxiety. The Brit barely made it onto the crowded docks before he was swept into the arms of a crying, bespectacled American with golden hair and tear-filled blue eyes. Another boy joined the embrace, his wavy light-blond hair nearly hiding the red-rimmed indigo eyes that he buried into Arthur's salt-encrusted jacket. Arthur shuddered and wrapped both of his arms around the boys, his muscles tensing once again as he reached up and pulled the American into a quick kiss, his lips parting to form three words that nearly reduced the young man to tears once more and caused the American to tighten his grip on the Brit, while the other blonde politely pulled away.

And, perhaps, there was another addition to the group, although Gilbert would never be entirely sure.

For one brief moment, a fourth blond stood beside the boy with the indigo eyes, his wavy blond hair gleaming like precious gold in the thin rays of the morning sun, his soft laugh of "Honhonhon~" barely audible to Gilbert's ears.

For a single second, the Frenchman Francis Bonnefoy reveled in the pleasure of seeing l'amour triumph.

And then the clouds passed over the sun and he was gone once more.

"Though like the wanderer,

The sun gone down,

Darkness comes over me,

My rest a stone,

Yet in my dreams I'd be

Nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee.

There let my way appear

Steps unto Heav'n,

All that Thou sendest me

In mercy given,

Angels to beckon me

Nearer, my God, to thee,

Nearer to Thee."

This is my- sort of late- tribute to those who died on the Titanic 100 years ago. May their souls rest in peace.

The quote at the end was from "Neare My God To Thee!", which was played by the band of the Titanic and was perhaps the last song that was played before the ship went down.