A/N: Well, here it is~! The companion to the Eleventh Hour- why? I was bored, and the story had some plot holes. While reading that isn't entirely necessary, it is highly recommended, or you may get completely lost.

As mentioned in one of the chapters of TEH, this will not get updated as often as my other fics, as it mostly made up of oneshots and short stories. Also, this will vary in genre and rating, as well as characters. Be sure to let me know if you all want anything in particular- you know, a lot of angst, crack, smut, etc. I'll be keeping this at T rating, for now. That could change.

Lastly, this is the first oneshot, based upon the very little information given at the beginning paragraphs of TEH. This turned out much more angst-filled than intended, and may be a bit OOC.

The Vargas estate- an abode of the utmost glory, with architecture of olden Victorian times, though its outlay and blueprints consisted of a much more modernized style. A two-level mansion of magnificence, the outer design was composed of many of the latest styles and whatnot. A long, winding sidewalk lead up to the estate, made up of a shimmering, dark silver stone of some sort, curving through neatly-trimmed fields of deep emerald grass. Two vehicles, a crimson red car and a black convertible, were nestled peacefully along the curb- a double-feature of two vehicles that were unbelievably rare in their poor town. Indeed, most of the civilians traveled around either on foot or, if they had enough money, on bicycle. Regardless, the Vargas family owned two, and though they were used seldom, they had proven to be most useful in traveling outside of a five-mile radius.

Inside, things weren't all that different in variety- still as modern and "homey" as the exterior. The family belonging to such a wealthy abode, however, was far different than most of you out there would anticipate. For all of the money and wealth they had been allowed by God- at least, that's what the head of the family and his wife thought-, the Vargas' weren't by any means greedy with it, nor did they flaunt around town wearing the finest in gems and accessories. In fact, the youngest Vargas boy and his parents considered the commoners to be a body of individuals perhaps more pure in personality and bravery than themselves, for they had been through worse experiences than the wealthy could ever hope to know. However, when considering the remainder of the prosperous living in that region of Italia, not to mention the elder Vargas child, most of the poorer people were treated no better than a pawn, if even that. 'Twas a sad thought, pathetic in more ways than one, but that had been the true stability of time for many years prior.

First, there had been the elder Vargas', the head of the only remaining members of their family- who happened to be his own children- and his wife. Their names were Nevio and Antonella Vargas; Antonella had originally belonged to the Moretti family before her departure deeper into the heart of Italy on business, upon which she had met Nevio and quickly fallen for him. Having both come from rich families, they moved to a large mansion further south of their former Italian location and resided in the manor that would serve as their burial site. But that's a long story that will be touched upon later.

They married at the happy age of twenty-six (Nevio) and twenty five (Antonella), and waited a good year or so before attempting to have children. Upon their first time trying for offspring, they conceived Lovino Vargas, a young boy born about a month prematurely for unknown reasons. They raised him incredibly strictly, a bit fearful for their child's life, and, although the staff working at the mansion insisted that they not, they continued to do so until their deaths. As he was their first child, it's obvious as to why they would be so paranoid- they were merely thankful that the child had been born without any sort of complications, let alone that he was given close to no freedom for the majority of his adolescent years.

Lovino Vargas grew up with a naturally-pessimistic attitude, and always seemed to have rotten luck- but, really, who could blame him after so much protection had been placed upon his shoulders? Due to reasons unknown to all but himself, he also adopted a strong dislike for commoners. Although he admitted that they were necessary for carrying out daily tasks, such as grocery shopping and the like, he acknowledged them very seldom until he was about fifteen, at which he began adapting to their company, though still preferred to avoid them- particularly the male commoners.

But, in all reality, many of the common civilians suspected that Lovino's primary reason for irritation was his younger brother, Feliciano.

Feliciano Vargas was born about three years after his brother, and was born the exact day that he had been expected to arrive. Actually acquiring him had been much more difficult than with Lovino, however, as it took Antonella several months before she managed to become pregnant with her second child, at which point she had a miscarriage and tried yet again. The sixth time, Feliciano had been born.

Greatly contrasting his brother, Feliciano was a happy, lucky young boy, and found commoners fascinating. In fact, the majority of his friends as a child had been the poor offspring of a pottery maker, or a chef of some sort. Needless to say, Lovino began to loathe having his brother around him all the time, yet Feliciano didn't seem to understand that his older sibling disliked him so, and followed the older Vargas boy around everywhere he went. Feliciano was a bit slower than others, and horrible at reading the atmosphere. Oh, he was perfectly capable- he was just entirely too naïve about the perils of the real world, considering his parents didn't make the overprotective mistake they had made with their firstborn.

Yet, sadly, even this commoner-considerate family couldn't hope to be entirely protected from the angered souls of the rebellious gangs around the poor slum.

********

"Ve~!" Feliciano, at the ripe age of fifteen, sat at the kitchen table with his brother, sipping from a mug of warm, frothy tea. "Mom and Dad sure have been gone for a while!"

"They went to get groceries, remember?" Lovino retorted, frowning all the while- though, really, he never seemed to smile much in those years. He was now officially considered a man, at eighteen years of age, and it oftentimes appeared to get him down. "Hurry up and finish eating- I want to go out for a while too!"

"Why do I have to come along?"

"Because Mother won't let me leave the house without an escort, remember? She's paranoid. I don't want those stuck-up housekeepers going with me, and, sadly, you're the next best thing."

Feliciano said nothing, but instead continued to munch on his over-easy egg, lost in his own simplistic thoughts. Lovino could be so grumpy sometimes… particularly in the morning hours. It was a wonder he didn't always have steam blowing out of his nostrils… Heh, Lovino's nostrils always flared when he was really mad. The thought of something so ridiculous graced a smile to Feliciano's face, and he polished off his egg with a wide, everlasting grin. "Alright~! Let's go!"

Lovino nodded curtly and rose from his spot on the chair, pushing it under the table before proceeding out the door, shopping sack in hand and pistol placed in his belt, with Feliciano shadowing closely behind. "Alright, Feli, first we're going to the-"

"Ve! I wanna go buy some pasta!" Feliciano exclaimed, bounding forward ahead of his older brother.

"W-Wait, Feliciano! We're in the middle of the crossfire, remember?" Lovino shouted in a hushed tone, grabbing his brother by the back of the shirt. Unfortunately, he spoke the truth- the commoners and the aristocrats were in the midst of a miniature civil war, and shots were fired at random from either side on irregular occasion. One had to be most cautious whilst trekking around town dressed like a noble. "Besides, it's morning, we don't need pasta."

"Aw~! I wanted some Rotini with alfredo sauce!" Feliciano complained, whining rather loudly still.

"I said shut it, Feli!" Now Lovino was on the verge of yelling, amber eyes shifting left and right in unease. "I don't need you getting shot down by a-"

An echoing explosion reached the ears of Lovino, rattling virtually every last bone in his body. He blinked once, twice, before his surroundings became engulfed in smoke, and a vivid, deathly orange flicker of flame struck out from a building, soon followed by many more in a detonation of crimson and blackish smoke. A bomb! Reacting on purely impulse, the elder Vargas boy lunged backwards, clutching his brother's shirt for dear life, as well as to protect his younger sibling from the building's bomb. They both toppled to the ground, flames raining from the heavens above as the building slowly began to crumble, bricks and rubble tumbling down upon their lithe forms. "Come on, Feli!" he shouted, snatching his brother by the wrist and urging him to follow. Lovino withdrew his pistol and did the thing his family was known for doing best- fled.

Smoke continued to drift along the horizon, fogging up the atmosphere with its gray mist of death and estrangement. "Quickly, into the building over there!" he continued to shout, now in regular tones, and ran swiftly with his brother into the nearest stall, where they would await the clearing of the smoke. Unfortunately, it was pretty safe to assume that the terroristic being who had planted the explosive was of nobility- after all, what broke commoner would have enough to pay for such an item?

"Alright, Feli, let's go… Stay close to me." Needless to say, Lovino, though he despised his brother with a burning passion, still felt it was his responsibility to take after his younger sibling as though he loved the teenager. Which most certainly wasn't the case- or, at least, he would never admit it. "Looks like the smoke's clearing up…"

Indeed, the thick blanket of smoke slowly began to dissipate before their eyes, revealing a group of deeply alarmed commoners, each exchanging worried glances with one another. "I can't believe this!" one of them shouted, tears streaming her face. "My shop! What're we going to do? My family…"

"And all of this after what happened to those nobles!" another murmured, shaking his head in dismay.

"Wait…" Lovino interrupted, approaching the commoner who had spoken last with a hand cautiously upon the gun. "What nobles?"

"Oh, e-excuse me, mister Vargas… M-My mistake…" The man took a few reluctant steps back, hands up in the air in defense. "I'm sorry, but… Their bodies were found at the end of the street."

"Their… their-" Lovino collapsed to the ground, eyes wide as melons in utter denial. "They've… You mean… Oh my God…" Shoving his brother aside, the elder Vargas brother rose from his spot and stumbled forward, running as fast as humanly possible in the direction of his parents' supposed death site.

And Lovino Vargas would find their bodies lying next to each other, mangled and bloody.

********

"Ve…" Feliciano commented a day or so after the funeral, approaching his brother with a sad smile. "Looks like you're the new head of the family now, huh?"

"Shut up!" Lovino snapped, whirling around to face his brother with flushed, tear-streaked cheeks. "Damned commoners… Damned street fights! Nobody had died up until this point! Why… Why did it have to be them?"

"Maybe now the street fighting will end." Feliciano placed a firm hand upon his brother's shoulder, urging him to follow. "Come on, Lovi. Let's go back to the house."

Lovino merely shook his head, wiping his tears embarrassedly. "In a minute." Perhaps he needed to resort his preferences… Perhaps it was the nobility that had torn his family apart, not the commoners. Though he still despised commoners, in all of their filth, perhaps there was a renewed hatred towards his own kind- aristocratic, stuck up, proud… All traits of himself. It was shameful, really.

Or… was there a chance that nobody In particular was to blame for this? Slowly, such ideas began to grace his mind, providing a new insight to what truly mattered. Lovino glanced back at his brother and nodded once more, rising and following Feliciano back to the manor to take care of business.

War is a murderer- one that can never be caught, nor can it be contained. Neither side is to blame, all the while having no one to blame but themselves.

Life itself seemed contradictory anymore.

A/N: Alright, I guarantee the rest shouldn't be this depressing and angsty. I apologize if this was a bit OOC…I have trouble with Italian angst sometimes. Eh…

Here's a little look at what's coming:

Next: A Progressive Thing, Part 1 (the story of Lovino and Antonio, and what really happened- this will likely span out for a few chapters, but each chapter will be uploaded about every other update)

After that: How Ludwig really got kicked out of the army… (currently awaiting title)

And After That: A Progressive Thing, Part 2

Lemme know what else you all want!

Review, please? :D