"You get tragedy where the tree, instead of bending, breaks." - Ludwig Wittenstein
"You were sent here for a reason. The session is meant to help you. I'm here to help you, but I can't do that if you don't let me. Now, is there anything you'd like to talk about?"
"Che."
"No? How about… your brother's condition? Does it bother you?"
"Of course it bothers me you bastard! It's my fault! If - if I had just listened…. It - it would have never happened."
"Ve! Lovino! Grandpa said not to jump on the bed!" Lovino snorted, making a point to jump higher, as if to rub it in his younger brother's face.
"And why not Feli? What's gonna happen if I jump on the damn bed?" The seven year old gasped at his brother's nonchalant use of such a naughty word. He nervously twisted his hand into his loose T-shirt, watching Lovino bounce as high as he could.
"You could get hurt! You heard what Grandpa said!" He whined, wincing as his brother attempted a half-hearted flip, landing sharply on his hands and knees.
"Scaredy cat!" Lovino accused, picking himself back up and continuing his jumping, accentuating every bounce with a chant of 'scaredy cat'. Feli threw a weak glare up at his brother, a shaky 'am not!' leaving his lips.
"Then prove it! Jump with me!" Lovino taunted, sticking his tongue out at his twin. Feliciano looked away, hazel eyes focused intently on the carpet, maybe trying to burn a hole through it.
"B-but grandpa sai-" He was cut off as Lovino started up his chant again. Feliciano fumed, puffing out his cheeks in determination and climbing up on the bed. The little Italian stood on wobbly legs next to his brother, who had stopped jumping to look at his younger brother in awe as the boy gave a feeble attempt at a bounce.
"You actually did it!" Lovino whooped, resuming his bouncing. "I can't believe it. Maybe you aren't completely gutless!" Feliciano shot the darker haired boy a worried look, eyes shifting from him to the door.
"Fratello! Be quiet! You could wake up Nonno!" Lovino only smirked at his younger brother, grabbing his hand as his feet hit the mattress, dragging him up as he flew again. A whispered 'jump Feli' and a smile was passed from the older brother to the younger brother. Feliciano answered with a smile of his own and began jumping himself, matching Lovino's rhythm.
"Higher!" Lovino whispered, giving his fratello a slight push. Feliciano complied, and pushed his brother back. Soon they were airborne for a few seconds at a time, breathless but laughing, still shoving each other playfully.
Their feet hit the mattress and Lovino pushed, and Feliciano flew, footing lost, into the nightstand. His head hit the wood with a sickening crack and he slumped to the floor.
Lovino stared in horror, rhythm coming to a grinding halt as he stared, fearing for his brother's life. He staggered from their shared bed, numb, and kneeled beside his brother. He shook his little brother's shoulder carefully and called to him, palms sweaty. His heart jumped to his throat when he got no answer.
"Feli?" He tried again, shaking him a bit harder, but still nothing. He sat back on his heels, watching, waiting. Something was wrong, but he couldn't place just what. The air in their shared room was thick and muggy and the seven year old found it hard to breathe. He struggled for air and soon stopped breathing all together, casting Feliciano a terrified gaze. He had figured out what was so wrong. He wasn't breathing. His fratello wasn't breathing. He stumbled back, finally noticing the distinct lack of breathing noises from his brother. Of any noises. Tears blurred his vision as he bolted, tearing down the hallway of their little home.
"Nonno!"
"So, you blame yourself for what happened to your brother?"
"Yes, dammit! Weren't you just fucking listening?"
"Is he going to be alright? Will my little Feli be alright?" Roma near screamed at the nurse. She shook in her shoes, scared to tell him what he wouldn't want to hear. Lovino was scared too. Never had he seen his nonno so worked up. So loud. So scared. And it was all his fault. His grandpa wouldn't even look at him. Not when he had found Feliciano lying unresponsive on the floor. Not when he had attempted to desperately breathe life back into the boy. Not the whole way in the car as they sped to keep up with the ambulance they had been barred from. Not once. And Lovino knew why.
The doctors didn't need to say it. Lovino knew already. His fratello was dead. Lying somewhere in the cold clutches of this monster they dared call a hospital, dead and alone. Maybe they had already dragged his lifeless corpse off to some ungodly netherworld to bear him as a present to the demon they worshipped. Maybe-
"Roma Vargas?" The doctor called, dragging Lovino from his demented musings to the real world with his grandfather sobbing at the doctor's feet. Demanding to know of his favorite grandchild. "He's not dead, Mr. Vargas" And Lovino breathed a sigh of relief. So he hadn't murdered his brother. "but, he's not 'okay', either." The doctor worried his lip as Roma reared up, demanding the answers no one would give him and Lovino's breath caught.
"What the hell does that mean!" Roma was far beyond his breaking point and Lovino could see it in the bearing of his teeth, the strain in his neck and the pain in his eyes. The doctor gulped, sweat beading on his brow and rolling between his knitted eyebrows to drip off his nose.
"I mean," the doctor whispered, afraid to raise his voice. Afraid to set the man off. "He… well, it was too late." The doctor stuttered, flinching as Roma's blunt nails dug into his skin, deeper and deeper with every grim word he spoke. "His brain had been starved for oxygen for too long by the time our EMTs had arrived. Most of his brain has… sh-shut down I guess you could say. He's going to be fine. He'll live, I mean. B-but, he won't be the same. Many of his brain cells have died off. A good amount at least."
"In English!" Roam screamed, grabbing the doctor in a death grip and pulling him flush against him self. The doctor turned away. Away from the man's pain, and away from the tears dripping onto his face from the other's.
"I'm afraid your grandson has developed a severe form of mental retardation. He'll never be self dependant. He'll have to be taken care of his whole life." Lovino couldn't believe his ears. None of what the doctor said could be true. Could it? Not his fratello. Lovino stared in horror as the once strong man he called his nonno, broke. Broke down and sobbed, loud and pitiful to everyone in the room. He paid no mind as the tears claimed his face for their own as well. He only had eyes for the broken man on the ground. The man that was no longer his nonno.
"You never forgave yourself. Why?"
"Because, it was my fault! If you can't even retain that much then what good are you as a damn therapist?"
"Why do you blame yourself?"
"Wh-why? Because it's my fuckin-" "Fault. Yes, I know. But why do you believe it to be your fault?"
"Nonno?" Lovino was sure he had never been so quite in his life. He bit his lip to keep himself quiet as his grandfather just waved him off, focused on dressing Feliciano. The thirteen year old struggled against him, trying to wriggle out of his grandfather's hold.
"Fratello~!" He giggled, reaching for his brother. That was one of Feliciano's few words. The few that had stuck in his brain after the accident. And they really were few. Lovino sighed, hating they way his grandfather glared at the tiles when he knew that hatred was for him. 'Nonno' wasn't one Feli's words.
"Feliciano, sit still!" His grandfather boomed, making Feliciano flinch and immediately still. He looked up to the old man with wide, teary eyes before calling out to his fratello again. His grandfather gripped the boy harder in an attempt to keep the boy where he didn't want to be. His jaw clenched and Lovino could see the raw anger in his eyes as he snapped at Lovino.
"Fine! Lovino, you get over here and you dress him! Now!" His grandfather pushed his younger brother towards him before storming out of the room. Lovino struggled to hold back his tears, focusing instead on Feliciano's.
"Shhh, Feli. Quiet. It's okay, just be good and get dressed for your fratello, o-okay?" Feliciano looked up at him with those watery hazel eyes before smiling brightly and allowing himself to be dressed. Anything for his fratello.
After he had been dressed, Lovino ushered the boy into the bed they still shared, climbing in behind him and burrowing into Feliciano's favorite pasta patterned comforter. Feliciano snuggled up right behind him and Lovino didn't bother to push him away or tell him no. It wouldn't work anyway.
Lovino laid there, for what must have been hours, thinking. He wasn't looking forward to school tomorrow. All the kids there could never get enough of reminding him that his brother wasn't normal. That he was going to end up being the one taking care of Feliciano forever. That he would never have a life of his own, and Lovino was scared that they were right. He loved his brother, but… but sometimes it was hard to be anywhere near Feliciano.
In the room down the hall, he could hear his grandfather sobbing.
"You resented him?"
"I- I guess I did, but not on purpose. I was young and… and stupid and a terrible brother. It wasn't his fault. It was mine. I killed Nonno"
Roma laid still and calm on the sterile white sheets, hands folded peacefully over his stomach. He watched with beaten eyes as his eldest grandson entered his room, his steps mute with caution. Lovino took a seat next to his grandfather, wringing his hands between his knees.
"Y-you wanted to see me nonno?" Lovino could barely speak. He didn't want to look at his grandpa, at the tiredness and wear etched into every line that was his fault, but it drew him in and he locked eyes with the man.
"Lovino," Roma sighed, turning away to look up at the faraway hospital ceiling. It was just as white as everything else in his room. Lovino was beginning to hate the color white. "I'm not going to last much longer." Lovino's jaw would have dropped at his grandfathers bluntness had he not spent his fifteen years of life with the man.
"Nonno, don't sa-"
"It's true" Roma interrupted, and Lovino bit his tongue. He wouldn't argue with the man. Not now. " I'll be dead soon and we both know it. That's why I'm asking you Lovino, to please, please, take care of Feliciano." Roma grabbed one of Lovino's hands, squeezing it in his, his broad palm sweaty against Lovino's own.
"Nonno, I don't kno-"
"Please," Roma begged, squeezing Lovino's hand until he was writhing in discomfort, unable to pull his hand away. Roma locked eyes with his grandson, and Lovino could see the desperation in his old eyes. "Promise me."
It wasn't more than a whisper, but it stopped Lovino's heart. It confirmed what in the darkest depths of his mind he had always known. His grandpa liked Feliciano better. Feli was the favorite. Not him. He could feel something nasty wiggle it's way down into the pit of his stomach, digging it's claws in, and then, he hated Feliciano. A raw and undeserved hatred that burned deep. This was all Feliciano's fault. His fault their nonno was on his deathbed, yet he was still the favorite. It wasn't fair, but Lovino couldn't say no.
"Fine," he ground out between his teeth, no longer able to look into Roma's eyes as he made a vow he loathed to keep. "I promise" he spat, yanking his hand from his grandfather's grip and storming out. He didn't look back once. He didn't notice the tears in his grandfather's eyes.
"Lovino," Roma rasped, and he wanted to say more but he could feel the erratic beat of his heart. The weak shuttering as it finally gave out beneath his broad chest. The years of worry and resentment and anger and frustration had taken their toll on him, and he would pay with his life. Roma wanted to say more, but the tears rolled down his cheeks and he knew Lovino wasn't coming back. His grandson was too stubborn for that, a trait he had got from Roma himself. Roma wanted to tell Lovino that he wasn't angry with him, not anymore. Roma wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that he should have never been angry, and Roma wanted to say so much more, but his eyes closed for the last time and the sorry died on his lips.
"I promised him. I promised and I failed. Feliciano would have been dead within a year, if that tomato bastard hadn't come along."
"Tomato bastard….? You mean your adoptive father Antonio Fernandez Carriedo?"
"Yeah, that bastard."
"Lovino? Would you and Feliciano come with me please?'
"What? Why?" Lovino demanded. This couldn't be good. Lovino had gotten into nothing but trouble after being placed in the orphanage. Picking fights with everybody and driving away any potential foster parents. He didn't need them anyway. As long as he and Feli had each other. He had long ago pushed the irrational hatred of his younger brother into a deep recess of his mind, though it still gnawed away at his conscience, trying to push itself back to the surface.
"There's someone here to see you." The woman explained. She was the head of the orphanage but Lovino had never bothered to learn her name. Lovino looked at her wearily, and she explained that he wasn't in trouble. He didn't trust her, he was always in trouble for something, but called Feliciano over any way.
"Fratello~!" Feli sang, skipping over to Lovino and grabbing his arm. Lovino only rolled his eyes, only all too used to his brother's touchy-feely nature. He lead Feliciano behind him as he followed the woman to the rooms reserved for adoption interviews. She sat him and Feli down at the single table, across from a widely grinning Spanish man.
"Lovino, Feliciano, this is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. He wants to adopt you." She looked uncertain about the last part, but the stranger only nodded, his smile growing impossibly larger. The name seemed so familiar, but Lovino couldn't place why.
"That's right!" He chirped, turning his bright-eyed smile on Lovino, who just scoffed. "you two are very cute and I love cute things. I have many cute things at my home. I have a turtle, a bunny, a puppy, a kitty, a-"
Lovino scoffed again, interrupting the man. "We're not animals, you idiot," Lovino ignored the horrified gasp and quiet reprimand from the orphanage head, choosing instead to continue correcting the oblivious idiot in front of him. "Do you know how much work it is to take care of another human being? You can't just decide to take us home just because we're cute." Lovino finished, glaring daggers at the idiot while Feli simply 'vee-d' beside him.
"Actually," Antonio smiled, signing the paper sitting in front of him and handing the head a wad of bills, much to Lovino's surprise, "I can." He positively beamed, shaking the hand of the head, and standing up. "Well, let's go home!"
Lovino was speechless, and didn't even struggle as he was herded out the door and into a waiting limo. He remembered this man now. This was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, the billionaire. Lovino looked around the monstrous limo then to the still beaming man.
"What?"
"It sounds like you had a pretty good life from that point on."
"We did."
"And when did that change?"
"Lovino! Calm down!"
"Don't tell me to calm down Tomato Bastard! Did you see what he did?" Lovino raged, throwing an accusing finger at Feliciano who cowered away from his brother's anger.
"He was just trying to do something nice!" Antonio defended, placing a placating hand on Lovino's shoulder. Lovino looked at him in disgust before throwing his hand off.
"By tearing apart everything in my room?" Lovino shoved his ruined comforter into Antonio's face, as if to emphasize his point.
"He didn't know what he was doing! He doesn't understand! You should know that better than anyone!"
"Why!" Lovino demanded, his voice bordering on hysteric. "Because it's my fault?"
"What? No! That's not what-"
"Are you accusing me? Just because I caused this I have to put up with it? Is that it?"
"Lovino, I-"
"Shut up!" Lovino raged, "I can't do this anymore! It's always him! Always Feliciano! Why? Why does everyone like him better? Why does everyone prefer him? He can barely say his own damn name! He can't do anything! He's the reason we're here! He's the reason Nonno's dead! Not me! I didn't kill Nonno! He did!" Lovino accused, throwing his ruined comforter to the ground in his fury.
"Fratello?" Feliciano whimpered, edging closer to his brother. Lovino turned his eyes to his younger brother, grabbing the nineteen year old by the throat. Feliciano gasped and struggled but Lovino only squeezed harder, grinning maliciously. Antonio screamed from behind him but Lovino heard none of it. He was much too focused on slowly and painfully squeezing every ounce of life from his brother. The bane of his existence.
Feliciano's struggles got weaker and weaker the harder Lovino squeezed and inside himself he could feel the dam break. Rage as he never knew flooded every part of his body. Hatred for his brother consumed him and all he wanted was Feliciano dead at his feet. He wanted to be reimbursed. For every year, every month, and every day he had spent taking care of what he hated most. The monster inside him let loose and he knew he wouldn't be happy until his 'fratello' was blue in the lips.
Lovino squeezed and squeezed and eventually Feliciano stopped struggling, but that wasn't enough. Lovino only tightened his grip, until his blunt nails broke skin and the coppery smell invaded his nostrils. The blood made his grip slick and Lovino let go, Feliciano falling to the ground with a thud, which pleased some dark part of Lovino. In the back of his mind he could hear screaming. Someone calling him a monster and a beast and Lovino whirled around to tell Antonio to shut up. Antonio wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere. And Lovino realized then, it was himself. A small little voice digging into his brain and with it came a crashing wave of self-hate. Lovino fell to his knees. But he didn't cry. Not when Antonio returned. Not when he was put in hand-cuffs and forced to his feet. Not when he was tried, or slammed in a jail cell. Not when he was accosted by his fellow 'prisoners'. Not when he was sentenced to life, or forced into therapy. He didn't cry, and he didn't regret.
"You weren't at all remorseful? You murdered your little brother and you didn't regret it?"
"No, potato bastard. I don't regret it."
"Why not?"
"Because… because it's none of your damn business!"
"Lovino" The prison therapist sighed.
"Fine!" Lovino snapped glaring at the blonde haired man in the seat opposite him. Oh how he hated the bastard. "I don't regret it because where ever he is it has to be better than anything here. Happy?"
"No."
"You're never happy. Maybe you'd have bit more joy in life if you pulled that stick out of your ass."
"I can see your point."
"About the stick?"
"No. About your brother. I too wish for nothing more than a better life for my brother." The blond admitted, mussing his neat slick-backed hair by running a broad hand through it.
"I didn't know you had a brother" Lovino muttered, settling in his chair and looking expectantly at the blonde man.
"It's not something I advertise. My brother isn't very well… liked, I guess you could say."
"Why?"
"He's a convict. Like yourself. I believe you two have met actually. His name is Gilbert. Beilschmidt."
"What? You mean that creepy albino is your brother?" Lovino looked to be thinking it over, staring intently at his therapist. "Makes sense." The blond opened his mouth to reply when the door swung in, and a guard popped his head in.
"Hi Ludwig. I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this visit short. Vargas has a visitor." Ludwig just nodded, waving them both out. Lovino stood, stretching and popping joints before following the guard out.
"So, who is it?" he asked, picking at his fingernails in an attempt to seem disinterested. Of course he already knew who it was.
"Who else Vargas? It's Antonio."
