Full Summary:
He had an hour to get home. If he didn't make it, Feli would kill him...
Lovino Vargas had spent most of his life in Italy, moving to America with his younger brother was probably the worst mistake of his life. In this world, everyone lives in fear, everyone but those select few. The ones with reputation. With money. With cruelty. In Italy, they had been protected. Here, they are alone.
He could hear everything, but dare not open his eyes.
Suddenly finding him and his brother victims of what the entire world feared, Lovino could only pray they could not smell his fear. He had to draw their attention away from sweet, innocent little Feli.
He kept absolutely still as the footsteps got louder.
But when Feli was the first taken, the harsh reality set in. He had failed.
When she lifted his head, she barely recognised him for the bruises.
Now he's abandoned all hope, and just wants death. But that doesn't mean he won't abandon his rebellious spirit.
Ever since that one day, when a hand was clamped over his mouth as he watched his brother cry, when he woke up in a cold, dark room, his life's been hell. He needs to get away.
Sorry, Lovi.
But it's too late.
A Note Before We Start:
A few things I feel I need to say before we start:
1. The Summary has a narrative of after this story starts.
At the beginning of the story, Feliciano is still with Lovino. They are not safe, but they are together. The hell's already started, though.
2. Do not expect the mafia to play much of a part in this.
No, Lovi is not in the mafia. His grandpa was. Lovino has nothing to with it, neither does Feliciano. The 'underground' referred to in the summary does not mean the mafia.
3. This is dark shit.
I
Staring at the empty bottle in front of him, Gilbert sighed. He watched as colours danced through it, and gazed at the pale spot of light reflected on the wall in front of him. He reached out and let his fingers curl around the neck of the bottle and slowly began to tilt it, his eyes still fixed on that one patch of light, and his thoughts swimming.
He had tried to refrain from drinking in the years he had spent building up to this position, the habit clearly clouded his judgement, like the murky liquid itself. But sometimes, he often felt the need to retreat, grab a hidden bottle of some kind of German beer and let the warmth light a fire in his stomach. It hid the undesirable thoughts from the forefront of his mind for a short while, before they soon broke through the barrier and reached him. It always reminded him of home, of days spent running through streets, of his childhood self-confidence, which was now only an echo of what it used to be, of his best friends that meant so much to him despite everything they had inflicted upon him. Then he thought of their success. Of how they advanced to the highest social standings, how they left him. How he still loved them despite all the jealousy and bitterness. And those thoughts would always let his mind wonder to the deepest regrets of his memory.
To his brother.
He thought of Ludwig. Of awkward, quiet Ludwig. Of his younger brother. The shy boy who grew into a man that did nothing but leave Gilbert too, and betray him unknowingly. Ludwig who joined Gilbert's friends in the Top Tier, who left his own older brother to work in a profession he looked down upon. How long has it been since I last saw him? Gilbert thought to himself. Is there anything I could do to bring him back, just for a short while?
Though Gilbert held a unique jealousy towards his not-so-little brother, he loved him. More than anything or anyone. He needed to see him again. But Gilbert was not a man to admit such weakness. Instead he decided that in order to see Ludwig again, he needed to find a less obvious way to get through to him. Something…Gilbert.
He grabbed his laptop and opened his emails, now seemingly the only way to get through to his brother, who refused to answer Gilbert's calls or texts. Composing a new email to Ludwig as a plan was already forming in his head.
It always struck Gilbert as kind of strange how Ludwig had managed to advance to the Top Tier. He was a somewhat innocent boy at face value, and it took a lot of pushing for anyone to catch a glimpse of his brother's true dark side. Gilbert had always assumed that his brother's skill in business had landed him a spot amongst the best, but thinking about it, that had to be impossible. It was not so easy to rise through ranks. Both of Gilbert's best friends had admitted to using corrupted methods to get themselves to the top. Sex, bribes, murder. Anything and everything. And they were only rising from Second to First tier. How the fuck did Ludwig Beilschmidt manage to advance two tiers without such methods? Yet he refused to own slaves.
It was common knowledge that those in the Top Tier used their position to their advantage. That was Gilbert's job. The majority of the second tier's job. Break in the fourth tier. Make them perfect for those above him. It didn't matter where they come from. It wasn't Gilbert's job to care. It was his job to be cruel. And yet Gilbert's brother, who had climbed his way to the top, refused to have anything to do with Gilbert's business. He claimed it was wrong. Of course he decides to take the fucking moral high ground. Wake up, Lud. We all know you want to. You have the right by virtue of position. Gilbert often thought to himself. And so that was his plan. Make Ludwig go against everything he had told Gilbert. Make him regret not taking the opportunity sooner.
He began writing the email. A bet, he proposed. Gilbert would find his brother someone he couldn't resist. Someone he would have to own. Someone that brightened the dark fire he concealed in his eyes. If Gilbert found Ludwig the perfect slave, then Ludwig would have to buy them. Ludwig would finally get to test the true pleasures of being in the Top Tier, something Gilbert had longed to have for so long, and Gilbert would get to see his brother again.
Whilst he waited for his brother's reply, Gilbert thought about which of his current charges would be the right one. Innocent. He thought. Even more innocent that Ludwig. Let him be the one to corrupt. He thought back to days spent in Germany, what kind of people would make Ludwig's eyes brighten, and what actions would make his cheeks flush red. Dancers. Gilbert thought back to the ballet classes they used to peek at. And painting. He remembered a blonde seven-year-old confiding in him his love of art, how he wished he could draw, not to tell Vater (who Gilbert was sure wouldn't have minded…). He would have to guess on appearance. But it was okay. He thought back to the active sessions that helped his charges stay in shape, the most agile, graceful dancer. He thought back to the stolen sketchbook Eliza kept locked in the top draw of her desk, the name she whispered to him in a crowded hall. He thought of the tear-filled eyes he always saw when an auction was announced, the purity told of in stories from handlers.
He had the perfect someone in mind.
"What the hell do you think you're doing with Vargas?"
Lovino would have rolled his eyes if he had the energy, but he was currently struggling just to stay conscious.
"He was being a brat. I had to teach him a lesson, boss."
Lovino could hear the man approaching, and flinched when he heard the all too familiar sound of skin on skin. Lovino's handler whimpered slightly as he held his surely reddening cheek.
"Teach him a lesson, fine, but breaking skin is a no go unless I give the green light. You already fucked him senseless...be more creative."
"But, sir-"
"No buts. Draw blood again and you're out." Lovino could practically see the boy shaking from behind his closed eyes. "Look kid," the volume of his voice had dropped slightly, "I know you're new to this, so I'll go easy on you. Talk to your brother, Maes, and hope he won't beat the shit out of you. He'll tell you how things roll out here, and this shouldn't happen again."
"Yes, Mr Beilschmidt."
"Good boy." There was a second of silence. "Off you go, now; your sister will be waiting. It's getting late."
Lovino listened to the boy's footsteps receding. Beilschmidt didn't even wait for Maes to completely leave.
Lovino felt as if his hair would part from his skull from the sheer force the man pulled him up with. His eyes were covered with Beilschmidt's hand and his sight was taken from him, an experience he's grown used to after the last few weeks. When he felt the older man's warm breath tickling his neck, he tensed.
"Alphonse is a real idiot, don't you think? I just hope Lars doesn't kill him, poor kid." Beilschmidt yanked on Lovino's hair, and the boy's breath hitched. "He may be an idiot, but at least he does as he's told. You on the other hand..."
Lovino cried out when his head smashed against the ground. Beilschmidt had let him go without warning and Lovino could now hear him moving towards the back of the room. Lovino could hear him shuffling around as he continued to speak.
"You know, you've always been such a pain… I wish I could shift you. Thing is, no one wants a brat like you… I hope someone unbelievably cruel comes along offering a handsome price for your pretty little face."
"Shut up." Lovino wheezed through tired lungs. Determined to stay defiant. He needed to be the one everyone payed attention to. He needed to be a problem. He needed to protect his brother.
"My point exactly. Speaking like that to your superior…" Lovino fought against the claws of unconsciousness as Beilschmidt came back towards him. "I am so, so glad I need to get you out of the way for a bit. This may hurt."
He heard the crack before he felt it. The pain that followed burned the bruises and scratches on his skin. He wanted to scream and yell and kick and fight back. He wanted to cry. He hated this.
"You know, I like you better like this. Please learn from the experience, Lovi." The second strike came and Lovino gritted his teeth. Then another. And another. And another. That was as far as he got before black engulfed him.
"Feli, stop looking so anxious. I'm sure he's fine."
Feli turned to face Roderich, tears threatening to form in his eyes. The older man put a comforting hand on the Italian's shoulder.
"I'm not."
At that Feli let out a sound similar to a wail.
"Jesus, Matthew."
"What?!"
"Have some tact, would you?"
Feli turned away again as he whispered to himself. Lovi was in trouble. He had to be...
"What did you say, Feli?"
"He's never late. Never. The fact he is scares me... He has to be in trouble. He wouldn't just leave me alone."
Feli flinched when Matthew snorted. Roderich turned to him, and even without seeing, Feli could feel the anger in his usually calm eyes.
"Matthew, please. You're scaring the boy."
"With the truth? Come on, Roderich. You know exactly what it's like to trust someone and have them abandon you." Feli could feel Roderich tense. His next words seemed to be laced with poison.
"Matthew, I'm warning you."
"You're pathetic. No wonder that wife of yours sold you off here. And it's even worse for you, isn't it? You see her every day. Gloating at you, beating your pals into submission, making out with that German."
"Matthew!" BothRoderich's voice and body had raised by now.
"You both need to come to grips with your reality, like I have. She's never coming back, Roderich. And I doubt Lovino is too. I mean, he missed the stupid tomato pasta bake. He wouldn't miss that for the world."
Silence fell on them for a minute, a silence filled with anger and fear, until Roderich spoke again.
"You've never felt that betrayal. Your brother's still here, and he shares everything with you."
Matthew's jaw set. Feliciano turned around. Did Roderich really not see the hatred between the brothers? The rift this place had caused between them? The laugh that escaped Matthew's lips was cold and humourless.
"If by everything you mean "Yeah Mattie, imma get outta here one day, got plans to make it big out there, and then I'll be the one owning people like you"." He paused for a second before continuing. "I hate him. For all I care, his handler can fuck up his enema, cause him some internal damage. Actually, thinking about it, I'd thank them."
Roderich looked like he was about to protest before he looked properly at Matthew's face. Seeing how dead serious he was caused Roderich to shut his trap. It was strange seeing Matthew so vocal, and full of anger. In his first weeks here, which were the same as the Vargas', he was quiet, calm and unnoticed. Invisible. Whatever they were doing to him, it was turning him into this. And he didn't think anyone liked it.
"No way. No fucking way."
"What is it, Feliks?" Toris stood up and went to rest his hand on the shorter man's back.
"Did you know about this?"
"About what?" Feliks grabbed his handler by the wrist and bolted around the corner, heading for the central noticeboard.
"About this." Toris stopped dead. Walking forwards as if in a trance, he let his fingers slide down the sheet of paper.
"Isn't it funny?"
"No! It's not fucking funny, Toris!"
"Not that it's happening!" He turned back around to face Feliks. "It's funny...How something so basic, a sheet of plain white paper with less than fifty words on it, can shatter people? Can destroy their lives?"
Feliks stared at him for a bit, before quickly replying with a "Yeah, I guess." Toris walked towards him.
"Don't worry about this."
"Don't worry? DON'T WORRY?! Are you insane, Toris?" The man grabbed Feliks' upper armed in an attempt to stop his panic.
"Feliks, breathe. Look at me in the eye." The younger man silently refused. "Feliks, listen to me, please!" Still no response. "Feliks, you have to fucking listen to me ok?" Toris flinched when the other let out a sharp gasp, the Lithuanian was not one to swear often, it meant he was serious. Feliks finally looked up. "I won't let them take you."
"But how-"
"I have my ways." Feliks looked at him in doubt. "I worked for Braginski, remember? I protected people from getting taken there. Beilschmidt is nothing, he's less thorough."
"But if you get caught..."
"I won't. Trust me. Please." Silence. "Please, Feliks!"
"Okay, okay fine." He swiftly returned his façade, plastering a smile to his face. "But I, like, totally have to tell Roddy about this. Don't want it to be a total shocker to everyone tonight." Toris sighed.
"Okay, you do that." He leaned forwards and kissed the blonde on the head, aware that there was no true warning him against it. "But be careful."
Lilli Zwingli was an angel. That's what they said. That's what they called her. They never said her real name, Lilli didn't understand why. Nor did she understand the reason they chose 'Angel'. The one time she had worked up the courage to ask, she had been told:
"Because you are in many ways, to many people."
She didn't understand that either.
But what she did understand were the tears she cried, the bruises on her skin, the scarring tissue of the deep lacerations on her back.
Which only lead to another thing she didn't properly understand. Why she only had two deep gashes along her shoulder blades, when others have been treated much more cruelly. When others still are.
She remembers, as clear as crystal, the day she got those scars. The pain she had felt, the tears she had cried, the screams she had let slip from her lips. The pure agony. It was almost a year ago now. It was exactly a month after she lost the name Lilli Zwingli. A month after she became Angel.
Thinking about it, that was the only event she could remember from before she was passed on to her most recent handler, excluding her name.
She had always been grateful though, as people always tend to disappear. The day a notice is posted. Feliks says that's when they go. She'd been here for such a long time, yet she had never gone anywhere. She was still stuck in the same hell. Which she was grateful for, because even though she suffered, she was somewhere she knows. She had always hated getting lost.
Turning a corner, she quickly regretted her decision and darted back behind it. If they knew her handler let her take walks, she would be handed off to someone else, presumably someone even crueller. She decided instead to concentrate on what Beilschmidt and Hedeveray were discussing.
"It's too early."
"Trust me, Liz."
"No way. He'll find us, Gilbert. And if he finds out where she is, the resistance will be on us. I'm not up for dealing with a load of rogue scum."
"Elizaveta, please. I'm doing this whole so we can finally shift this girl. It would normally be too soon for another one, but we have a chance to get rid of some dead weight here! Come on, we can dump her on the Asians or something. Besides, the resistance will have nothing to do with us. He wouldn't think of crashing the auction, and since we have no buyers there, by the time word gets to Switzerland she'll be gone. The rebels will never know."
"And all the effort I put in to make her forget her goddamn brother? He started a resistance over this bitch. She's worth something. No way am I letting Yang get his hands on her. And if you even mention the B word I'll fucking kill you. No Russian is getting something I worked so hard on. Forget it, Gilbert."
"Fine. You have two months to find a good buyer for her, that you approve of. Otherwise, I can sell her to whoever the fuck I want. Whoever pays the most. If that's Braginski, then so be it."
"I warned you, Beilschmidt."
"See you later!"
"Get back here!"
Yet another thing to add to her list. Lilli didn't understand what she had just heard.
"Roderich, you need to hear this!"
"Not now, Feliks." Roderich kept his hand on Feliciano's back as he raised his head slightly to address the blonde. His eyes were tired and his hair was no longer close to anything considered presentable.
"But it's impor-" Noting the young boy hunched over and sobbing by Roderich's side, the Pole turned to him and mouthed a quite obvious 'What happened?'
Roderich simply shook his head, and turned back to Feliciano. After whispering something to the boy and receiving a small nod, he stood up and lead Feliks to the corner of the room, skilfully dodging tables until he was out of the Italian's earshot.
"Lovino's missing."
"No way!" Feliks exclaimed, his voice raised considerably. Roderich glared at him, with his slim index finger resting on his lips. Feliks' gaze dropped and he lost his usual cheerful mask. "Sorry. Maybe it has something to do what I came here to tell you…" Roderich had been watching Feliks' hands which were fiddling with the edge of his shirt when he heard the blonde's words. Looking straight into green eyes, Roderich allowed his to narrow slightly.
"Which is?" Feliks' eyes expanded significantly.
"Remember, you can't tell anyone—" Roderich rolled his eyes.
"Speak." Just as Feliks opened his mouth to start, Roderich put a firm hand on his forearm. "But keep your voice down." Feliks nodded in understanding. He took a deep breath then delivered the earth-shattering news.
"There's another auction." A number of indescribable emotions flashed through Roderich's violet eyes. His mouth opened and closed, almost comically, as he stood unsure of what to do. He settled on gripping Feliks even tighter for support.
"When?"
"Two days."
"Mein Gott, so soon? How did you find out?!" Feliks looked down, and didn't reply. Roderich had always had his suspicions about the blonde Pole, but knew better than to pry right now. He needed more information, and if Feliks was their only source, he couldn't compromise that. "Who?" Feliks just looked up at him in confusion. "Who's going to—You know?"
"Be sold?" Roderich's face moulded into disgust, but nodded. "No idea."
"Can you find out?"
"I don't know, Roddy. It could be dangero—"
"Can you?!" He quickly glanced at Feliciano, though when the boy showed no sign of having acknowledged his outburst, he turned back to Feliks.
"Yes. Yes, I can."
"Are you sure?"
"Don't worry." Feliks gently squeezed Roderich's shoulder. "I'll get you that list."