A/N: I have re-written so many parts of this in such a short period of time that I am this close to screaming. But, I actually had fun writing this, it was cool to form how a "normal" day would go for these guys.
I'm trying to get better at this wacky POV (I'm so used to writing in past tense...) so hopefully any tense slip-ups are permitted for now, plus it kind of throws me off on how I pace so...just tell me what I need to work on with that, if you don't mind. Also, I hope precious Lovi isn't too OOC in this: I feel like I made him a bit too...I dunno, cuddly? That's just how I imagine he'd be with kids. And, yes, Lars and Emma (also known as the best big sister ever) have their ages mixed up. I might go somewhere with that.
Hopefully this is just as good as the first chapter. I honestly adore each of you who reviewed/favorited/followed and I hope to see you all in the next update. Anyway, enjoy!
Episode One: In Which There Is A Blackout
The air conditioning goes out, Lovino gets stuck in an elevator, Antonio and Gilbert eat tomatoes and ice cream, Francis is there, and Ludwig takes a bath.
It's a scorching hot summer's day when the power goes out. That itself isn't so bad, since almost nothing electronic works anyway, so they just kind of ignore it. Until the owner of the building decides that it's a wonderful idea to shut off the backup generator. Again, not so bad in itself, but then there's the fact that that generator was attached to almost every single air conditioner in the building. So, they are left without any way to cool down except for the already melting popsicles in Francis's not-so-freezing freezer.
Gilbert decides to usurp the whole couch and whine about the heat while Ludwig has to sit on the floor, playing on the one Tamogatchi toy he seems to have claimed for his own and restraining from smacking his big brother over the head with a pillow. Francis just changes his long sleeved shirt and tight jeans into a casual T-shirt and shorts, before laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling with quiet misery.
No one knows where their resident chaos demon known as Antonio Fernández-Carriedo is, but they know that he's probably lurking around one of the apartments. And, after a few minutes, as well as Gilbert commenting on the Spaniard's absence, who would happen to appear other than the smiley brunette himself, a piece of pizza in his mouth and a whole box teetering dangerously in his unoccupied hand? He mumbles something around the slice of bread and sauce and cheese, which sounds like 'Lovi's got power,' but they can't be too sure.
Francis finally decides to sit up when Antonio plops down onto the carpet beside the Frenchman, somehow managing not to drop the gigantic cardboard box he's holding. "You get any of that nasty grease on my carpet, so help m-?!" Francis is cut off by a piece of pizza getting stuffed into his mouth by Antonio. Grease drips from the slice and onto the Frenchman's shirt, making him give a little whine before finally taking hold of the pizza and biting into it properly.
Curiously, as if he had just processed what Antonio had said, Ludwig looks up from the girly virtual pet in his hand while Francis struggles with the pizza's grease, turning his attention to the giggling Spaniard with a raised eyebrow, "Did you just say that Lovino has power in his apartment?" A head of silver hair perks up, all complaints falling to an abrupt stop as Gilbert focuses his scarlet gaze on Antonio, who promptly gives a nod and takes a breath to speak...
But he can barely vocalize his positive response before their group's only albino is already across the room and halfway out the door, shouting behind him, "What are we waiting for?! Let's go to the grumpy little tomato fairy's place!"
None of them (except Antonio) have been inside Lovino's apartment before. Of course, Francis or Gilbert had caught sight of the inside once or twice while searching for their Spanish friend, but they had only been able to snag a small sliver of cream walls and plush grey carpet before Lovino all but threw Antonio's still drowsy form out of the door and slammed it closed, the telltale sound of locks being clicked into place letting them know that Lovino wasn't in the mood for their sh*t.
So, Gilbert takes an extra long time to examine the numerous firearms that are mounted on the spitfire Italian's walls, wondering how Lovino even got all of them into the building. There is way more than just the pistols that Antonio talks about when they ask him about Lovino's place. The guns are clearly antiques, from simple dart guns to the longest rifle the albino has ever seen, and from all different manufacturers. Eventually the albino is broken from his careful study of the guns when Francis gives the offhand comment of "My little cousin would love to see these."
Gilbert decides that he really doesn't want to know, moving away from the Wall of Weapons (As he's decided to call it) and goes to sit down on the couch with Ludwig, who is invested in his Tamogatchi once more. Fiddling with the hem of his shirt as a thick silence falls, Gilbert's red eyes scan the rest of the apartment. A small backup generator (also known as their saving grace) is rumbling away in the corner, but that's just about it, except for the house phone sitting on the little bedside table thing.
Snorting in amusement (really? A house phone? How old was Lovino, fifty-six?) the albino reaches over to interfere with his brother's game, quickly tugging his hand back with an angry huff as Ludwig smacks it away. And he smacks hard.
"Tomatoes!" Antonio suddenly shouts, breaking the awkward silence. from his place of kneeling in front of the fridge, taking out a huge bag of said food item with a huge grin that eats his entire face. It's well known amongst all that both Lovino and Antonio have an unhealthy obsession with the plump little fruit (Can an obsession with something good for you be unhealthy? Meh, probably...) and Gilbert knows that if Antonio eats even one tomato Lovino will be even more pissed off than usual for at least a week...
Eh, it's Antonio's funeral.
"Toni," The Spaniard looks up from his careful inspection of a particularly round tomato at Gilbert's voice, tilting his head and blinking. Gilbert snickers, "Bet you can't eat all of those tomatoes by the time Lovino gets home."
Green eyes look at the bag, before going back to Gilbert. Antonio's smile is terrifying as he puts the bag down and grabs something else out of the fridge. A bottle of vintage wine. "Let's make this a game! Whoever can finish their respective food items faster is the winner!" he hums as he opens the tomato bag and tears the cork from the wine bottle. "After all, I think you have something in your apartment that can count as a challenge in itself, something you wouldn't want to go bad, si?"
Puckering his lips into a thinking pout, Gilbert asks, "What's the stakes?"
Antonio thinks for a second, before shrugging easily, "The loser owes the winner a favor: Whatever the winner requests, the loser has to do. No exceptions."
"Fine. Just know that I'm going to make you do one of the most embarrassing things ever when I win." Gilbert responds, narrowing his eyes before quickly leaving the apartment, returning a few short minutes afterwards with an armful of half-full gallons of ice cream and half of a six-pack. Hey, the only things that will really go 'bad' if left in their apartment is those two items (since not many people like to have melted ice cream and their beer at room temperature) and Gilbert, Antonio and Ludwig mostly have only dry goods and things that don't need refrigeration in their apartment.
Ludwig, once again, looks up from his game and to his brother's 'food' as the albino sets all of the cartons on the ground. Rolling his eyes, the younger brother reaches over and takes the single carton of rainbow sherbet from Gilbert's stockpile. "I believe this one is mine..." Blue eyes scan the rest of the ice cream flavors, "and the pistachio. That's mine to."
Huffing, childishly, Gilbert practically throws the (somehow) still-freezing ice cream into his little brother's face, "Here, West, I don't like the total unawesomeness of pistachio anyway."
It seems that Francis has finally come over from the Wall of Weapons because he hands both Ludwig and Gilbert a spoon, before whispering to the only other blonde in the room, "This will be an exciting contest." Ludwig snorts, amused by the pure sarcasm dripping off Francis' tone. An exciting contest, indeed.
-X-
It's in the middle of Antonio's tenth (or is it eleventh?) large tomato and Gilbert's second half gallon of ice cream (moose tracks) that Lovino calls the preoccupied Spaniard's phone. It is safe to say that the Italian is surprised when Francis answers instead of the phone's owner. "Wine b*stard?"—ah, the regular charming greeting of their precious Italian—"Where's the idiota?"
Gilbert shrieks something about brain freeze from his place on the carpet. Francis ignores it in favor of telling Lovino about the contest, not forgetting to mention that their albino headache, who had issued the challenge, is currently rolling around on the floor in overdramatic pain so that the temperamental shorty will have mercy on Antonio's sweet, tomato-loving soul. Lovino, instead of blowing up, just snorts, "Those tomatoes were going to expire soon anyway, let the sunshine b*stard have 'em."
Francis can hear Lovino's nonchalant shrug, "Also," The Italian suddenly adds, "send me a picture of Gilbert's situation. I want to have it as my phone's lock screen so I can laugh when I look at it." From the tone of his voice, Lovino is not kidding about laughing at it. Though, he probably isn't serious about having it as his lock screen: The day Lovino Vargas has a picture of Gilbert as any form of phone background is the day Francis decides to give up on bugging Arthur. Which is to say, never.
"Will do, mon petite ami." Lovino gives a small grumble about not being small before Francis asks a question of his own, "So, tell me, where in the world are you?"
Silence is all that comes from the other side of the line before Lovino gives an irritated sigh, "The elevator. I'm stuck in the f***ing elevator..." Francis isn't sure how to react to that. (He knows laughing will hurt Lovino's pride, but so will any sort of sympathy. He's really at a loss.) Luckily, Lovino continues after his brief trail-off, "And there's this really creepy little kid staring at me. Like, he's just standing in the corner staring."
The Frenchman's resolve to be a good friend for the moment shatters when he hears Lovino's voice actually tremble in fear from some little kid looking at him. It is amidst Francis' loud laughter that Lovino hangs up, probably blushing from ear to ear in embarrassment. As soon as the laughing fit calms, however, Antonio's phone suddenly gives a little 'ding' sound and the symbol for a new message appears on the phone.
It's from Lovino, so Francis knows that Antonio won't mind him looking at it, but he promptly drops the phone with a horrified expression when he opens up the message. The Italian wasn't kidding when he said the kid was creepy. Really, he didn't look any older than six or maybe seven, but the picture shows that his green eyes are molded into a blank glare and he holds toy of Miffy the Bunny in a death hold around its plushy neck. It wouldn't be so scary if the elevator wasn't so dim. The Frenchman looks at the text that accompanies the picture.
Seriously. Look at the demon child. - Lovinito️
I just hope you have some holy water, mon ami. - Antonio
Lovino Vargas is a man who deals with a lot of c*ap every single day of his life. It's basically mandatory for him to, ever since his Grandfather decided he could "build character" by being dropped off in the middle of Central Park with only the clothes on his back and a lousy twenty to his name. Not to mention that Romulus dropped him off at midnight. While he was sleeping. Yep, the old man definitely got caretaker of the year award right there.
Totally.
See the sarcasm?
It is true that the older Italian man wasn't wrong with thinking it would change his grandson. Lovino managed to build a life for himself and make some friends, but he still deals with all forms (usually from those same friends) of hell on a daily basis. Like that time Antonio managed to get into trapped in the laundry chute. Yeah, that was a hard one to explain to everyone. And, right now, Lovino is up yet another raging stream without a paddle.
The kid still hasn't moved from his place in corner of the elevator, and is currently staring at Lovino so intently that the Italian can't help but to stare back with equal force. They had been at this creepy game of Stare Down for around a half an hour. What was embarrassing was that the kid was actually 'winning.' Even when Lovino had taken a picture, the little boy with the bunny didn't flinch (which was surprising, to say the least, since the camera's flash was still on) and just...stood there. Normal children, Lovino imagined, would either be crying for their caretakers or talking animatedly with the total stranger they were trapped with when stuck in an elevator.
Eh, whatever. He had already established the kid was an odd one, why not just go with that?
Sliding down to the floor, Lovino pulls out his phone and presses some random app. As luck would have it, he had accidently pressed on Netflix, his screen filling with all sorts of TV or movies titles and the like. Shrugging, Lovino selects his queue and starts to scroll through all of the shows that he never really got around to watching. Finally, he just choses one at random, closing his eyes and jabbing at his screen.
Slowly opening his eyes again, Lovino wilts as he sees the candy-colored show he had chosen. My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic...D*mn it Feli. Sighing, the Italian slumps and thinks about the select words he plans to shout at his little brother when they see each other again. If Feliciano wasn't helping him pay, then he wasn't allowed on Lovino's account: That was the rule.
Exiting out (yeah, he didn't want to watch that...right now...) Lovino huffs on crosses his arm over his chest, setting his still-on phone down on the ground beside him. Great, there was nothing good to watch...At least, something good that wouldn't have the kid trapped in the elevator with him hear cussing and other stuff. As soon as he thought of the boy with him, sudden, little footsteps make Lovino look up. The boy was right beside him now, tilting his head as he looks at one of the shows in Lovino's queue.
"Zuster watches that one." The boy suddenly mutters, making Lovino jump slightly as a little finger is jabbed at the box reading Once Upon A Time. "I like the Huntsman a lot, but then they killed him off..." The kid plops down next to Lovino, looking up at the man. His green eyes were no longer fixed into a glare, they instead sparkled with...was that expectance? What did the kid expect from him...?
Lovino decides to go with his gut on what he thinks the child wants, "Uhm. I guess my favorite is the Wicked Witch—Zelena's her name, right?—I mean, being overshadowed is something I could relate to..." As his words trail off as he rubs the back of his head. He can't help but feel stupid. Had he really just mentioned his problems to a toddler of all people? That s*it is meant for psychiatrists.
The boy just hums, before speaking again, "My name is Lars." Well, at least he now has a name to give the kid.
"Lovino." The Italian introduces himself in return, before they lapse into slightly comfortable silence. He can't help but to catch the way Lars' green eyes are locked onto the phone screen, on the show they had just talked about, and he decides to be nice. Sliding his Galaxy over to Lars, Lovino mutters, "Here, squirt, don't drop it." Lovino's genuinely surprised by how...elated Lars looks. The boy has an expression of a man who had just been given a block of gold and treats the phone like its delicate glass as he presses on the screen to begin an episode.
As Lovino looks on, watching the episode and giving funny commentary that borders on sarcastic at the appropriate moments as Lars makes his own. Soon, they're both laughing, and he decides that maybe this kid isn't so bad after all.
After two hours, numerous brain freezes, a total of three melted ice cream gallons, and Gilbert crying over those three gallons, Antonio emerges as the winner of the contest and both of them are as drunk as hell. Gilbert somehow manages to get under the couch to weep for one reason or another and Antonio lays on the tiled floor of the kitchen, mumbling something about the ceiling being pretty and humans who are countries and other possibly concerning things Francis doesn't quite catch. He really hopes that those almost-expired tomatoes didn't somehow throw the Spaniard into some kind of weird conscious food/alcohol coma or get him into some odd state of being high.
Gilbert's whining about his 'precious little brother' not being in the room to comfort him, and, as if in a form of response, Ludwig suddenly walks into the room, wearing a pair of his pajamas (when did he bring those over?) and is in the middle of drying off his hair with a towel when Francis looks over at him. "Lovino's going to be upset that you used his bathtub." The Frenchman comments, raising an eyebrow and looking Ludwig over.
"Who said I used his?" Is all that Ludwig says in response, before promptly going to pick up all of the empty ice cream cartons and the discarded plastic bag that once held tomatoes, ignoring his older brother's pleas for a hug from under the darkness of the couch, "I'm going to throw these away in the trash chute, have fun with the drunkards." Francis can barely blink before the younger boy is already out of the room.
A groan comes from Gilbert's makeshift shelter; the kind of groan someone makes when they're about to throw up. And, sure enough, the albino under the couch manages to crawl out and rushes to bathroom in about three seconds. Francis huffs in annoyance as he hears Gilbert empty the contents of his stomach. "I'm not cleaning the bathroom, so you're on your own, Gil!" he shouts, not caring if his refusal to clean makes Gilbert whine like a spoiled child again, as he picks up Ludwig's abandoned Tamogatchi and starts to fiddle with it.
And, of course, when Gilbert comes back he begins to groan again. Antonio's long since passed out, snoring on the floor, and Francis gives a thought to dragging him over to his and Gil's apartment before just shrugging it off. The Spaniard sleeps in Lovino's room more often than not, so there wouldn't really be a point in moving him. Less work for him then, Francis guesses.
Gilbert, thankfully, goes quiet (well, muted) as he drags himself to the bathroom again, leaving Francis with only the virtual pet he holds as company. Putting the pet down (making a point out of ignoring all cries it emits) the Frenchman fixes himself into a more comfortable position so he could sleep.
Lovino eventually comes home after getting freed from the elevator by some firefighters. He and Lars had managed to watch about five episodes of OUAT while they were trapped, before Lars had eventually dozed off. The Italian couldn't deny that the little Dutch toddler was cute when he was asleep; after all, who can say that a sleeping toddler who cuddles with a Miffy doll and sucks his thumb can be anything but adorable?
Just goes to show that being trapped in a c*appy apartment building elevator can show you different sides of people.
The firefighters had apologized numerous times for the lateness of their arrival, but Lovino had just shrugged them off. Any other day, he would had been raving and ranting, most likely cussing like a sailor, but today he was just tired. He knew there would be, at least, three idiots in his apartment when he got home or those same three idiots would've left his place a mess (if Ludwig hadn't cleaned it up. Gilbert was probably too drunk to care at the moment.) So, Lovino rushed off to his apartment, discreetly making sure Lars was safe with the woman who had come to claim him (He couldn't remember her name, exactly: Was it Emma or Bella? He had no clue) before going up the stairs.
His apartment isn't locked when he finally comes to a stop in front of it. Lovino takes in a deep breath before pushing open the door, pleasantly surprised to see that most of the small living space is as he left it, maybe a little cleaner. Though, there are three things that aren't supposed to be there: A drunk Spaniard passed out on his kitchen floor, an equally wasted self-proclaimed Prussian (who is probably clinging to his toilet) shouting about something from the bathroom, and one Frenchman snoozing on his couch.
So, he does have to do something after all.
Although the Italian had really just wanted to do was take a hot shower and go to bed, he guesses that he wasn't supposed to have those luxuries at this moment in time. So, Lovino knows that he can just settle for having a cup of coffee for now and he has to prepare some aspirin for Gilbert and Antonio when they eventually wake up...
Walking over to the kitchen, maneuvering skillfully around Antonio's snoring form, and taking the bottle aspirin from the closest cupboard, Lovino sighs.
Just like every other Wednesday, he supposes.
