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Last chapter, ladies and gents.
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Feliciano was setting a homemade dinner in front of Ludwig when he got the call. While the German insisted that hospital food was fine, Feliciano didn't agree. He'd made some of Ludwig's favorite, bringing it in inside an insulated cooler so it would be warm whenever he woke up. Protests aside, Ludwig was obediently working his way through the meal when Feliciano stepped outside the room.
"We got his attention?" he asked, glancing around to make sure none of the nurses were nearby.
"Sì, we got it alright. The Russian bastard sent us a message just now. He wants to meet at a neutral location. We're coming to pick you up. He wanted to speak with us personally."
Feliciano glanced at the door, chewing his lip. Ludwig hadn't been awake long. He'd wanted to stay, but...no, he had to go. He was a Vargas, and if it meant making things right over what had been done to Ludwig, it was the price he was willing to pay.
"Five minutes, Lovi. I'll meet you outside."
"We don't have five fucking minutes."
He hung up, ignoring him. Feliciano stepped back inside, watching as Gilbert tried to cheer his brother up, occasionally trying to steal some of his food. Ludwig would slap his hand away, glaring at him whenever he tried. Well, it was a good sign, at least.
Taking a deep breath, Feliciano came back over, smiling. "I have to take care of something. Work, again. I promise to come right back."
Ludwig smiled patiently, but it faded as it seemed to click what Feliciano's words meant. He nodded stiffly. "Be careful," he warned, face grim.
Feliciano leaned up to kiss his cheek, smiling brightly. "Always, Luddy. Be back soon!"
BREAK/BREAK\BREAK
Lovino was waiting in the car outside when Feliciano joined them, face set in a scowl. As the driver rolled forward, the younger of the two brothers asked, "What was the message?"
"A phone call, actually," said Roma, a thoughtful look on his face. "It was a little odd. He said we needed to discuss our recent activities. He sounded angry, which I wasn't expecting."
"He's the motherfucker that started all this," Lovino ground out. "We'd better get this fixed soon. Antonio's on his way home. No way I'm letting him end up in the room next to that potato bastard. Why couldn't the bastardo have gone after a drug route like a normal fucker?"
Roma was rubbing his chin, eyes a little distant. "I'm not entirely certain he did. Didn't Alfred say he was out of town for this last week? Our sources confirmed it, he's been expanding his own trade, arranging a line farther west. He never bothers with an alibi when the attack is open like this."
"What the hell does that have to do with shit?" demanded Lovino.
Feliciano frowned, but didn't comment. He'd wondered, yes, but that didn't change the fact Ludwig had been badly hurt. That needed to be remedied. Quickly. Preferably with extreme prejudice.
The neutral ground the two Don's had arranged to meet at was a warehouse by the docks, one that had suffered a police raid just two weeks before. Prior to that, it had been used by the Mexican's for sorting and transporting drugs. It was in neither of their respective territory's, and still fresh from a police raid no one would have repurposed it yet.
Their driver pulled in outside, where another car was waiting. The three Vargas men stepped out into the cool air, expensive shoes gritting on old asphalt. Outside his own car, Ivan stood, waiting, face the same cheerful mask that drove many men mad with fear. He didn't have his pipe in hand, which Feliciano took as a good sign. Their people had swept the area, no sign of surveillance or an ambush, from the Russians or the police. It was just them and Ivan, it seemed.
Roma was the first to speak. "It's been some time since we've seen each other face to face," he said, polite even now."
"Not long enough. The only reason we meet now is to correct an error," said Ivan, smiling back. It was both childish and frightening in a way that never failed to send chills down Feliciano's back.
"Indeed. Cease fire's never last forever, but we didn't think it would be ended in such a way," said Roma, tone light. "Especially in such a manner. It's a very grievous error. But these streets have seen too much blood over the years already. I'd rather not have them see more of it, if it can be helped."
Ivan cocked his head. "Our reasons are different, old man, but our goal is the same. I am here because my sister is a reckless fool."
Feliciano turned this over. He remembered the message that the men had left Ludwig, 'Braginski sends their regards'. There were approximately three Braginski's in the city, but they'd just assumed it was Ivan. It wouldn't be Katyusha in a million years, so that left...
"Are you saying it as Natalia who ordered the attack? Not you?"
"Da. I had no knowledge of it until you targeted my Alfred. I know how you feel about blood, old man, and I doubted you'd simply decided to start a war on a whim. It seems my sister decided to be ambitious, try to intimidate you. She was a fool. My connections to Russia had been withering of late, I have sent her back to act as a more...potent liaison. She will not be coming back here for some time, and she will have plenty to do over there. I would have given you the men who she used, but I'm afraid I got carried away." He smiled sweetly. "I really do not like it when my men are disobedient. I had to get rid of several other followers too. Very messy. You understand. Also, I have gift."
Both the Vargas brothers stiffened, hands drifting to their respective weapons as Ivan reached into his coat. They relaxed only slightly when he pulled out a cloth bag. It wasn't very big, and it was lopsided, lumpy. The Russian tossed it to Roma, who caught it easily. Feliciano watched, tense, as his grandfather peered into the bag.
Dark brows arched. "It's nice to know you didn't forget us completely."
"For each finger broken, they lost," relayed Ivan, smiling as if explaining a delightful new game. "An eye for an eye, as it were. They were still alive when it was done, you can check. Consider it compensation for not getting to do the work yourself."
Roma nodded, then handed the bag to Feliciano. Curious now, he peeked inside. Fingers. A lot of them. All very bloody. The entire bag had double layers, the inner one soaked through with the stuff. He didn't have time to count them all, but it did look like six men had lost a hand's worth. He could have it checked to be sure they'd been alive at the time. Still not as good as doing the work himself, but it was as good as he was going to get.
Feliciano closed the bag, nodding. "A nice gift. Grazie."
"Indeed," agreed Roma personably, turning his attention back to Ivan. "It takes blood to oil a smooth ship, I'm afraid. But we still can't just let this slide, you know. Contrary to popular belief, there is some honor amongst thieves."
Ivan waited, chillingly sweet smile still on his face.
"Katyusha's bakery is near our boarder. Transfer her jurisdiction to us."
"Nyet."
Roma laughed. "You're not exactly in the best negotiating position. It was your people who broke the cease fire. We're well within our rights to start a war. But we're playing nice. Give us the bakery, and we'll call it even. For what it's worth, our people actually like Katyusha. If any harm did come to her, not only would we lose the best baker in town, we'd lose a very nice woman. So you see, she makes a very nice bargaining chip: neither of us want to hurt her. We'll even give you back the watch."
Ivan's eyes drifted down to Roma's hand as he pulled out the old brass watch, holding it out for him to see. The idea had been to ask for the bakery and the people sent after Ludwig, but they'd known it would be a long shot to get the latter. Ivan had a very temperamental temper. Feliciano had once seen him shoot one of his men once simply for buying the wrong vodka. He would have preferred taking care of the men himself, but that was no longer on the table. At least he had the trophies, and within the day he'd also have the assurance they'd suffered at least that much. Katyusha was as good as they would get. Not only would they have the sister who wasn't crazy, they'd have her pastries. So long as no one told her she was being used as leverage, it would work out. The watch they'd decided to give back simply because they liked Alfred. They'd made their point already, anyway. There was no real reason to keep it. Besides, if things didn't work out between the two, he seemed like the sort to make a good ally.
"It is a deal. I will make the arrangements," said Ivan stiffly. He took one step forward, holding one hand out, palm up. "The watch."
Roma passed it to him, his smile more icy than usual. "Try to be more careful with your things. The more precious something is, the easier it is to break."
Ivan said nothing, just returning the very unfriendly smile as he stepped back again. Lovino yanked open the car door, sliding inside. Feliciano followed him, still keeping an eye on Ivan. He didn't understand how someone like Alfred could even stand to be near the man. The Russian was a monster, plain and simple. It didn't make sense.
Roma shook his head as they pulled away, keeping an eye on Braginski himself. "It's his own fault. You need to keep a firm hand on your own people. Especially if Natalia is one of them."
"Fucking bitch," muttered Lovino.
Feliciano sighed. "I still wish we could have dealt with those men personally."
"We can't have everything we wish for, Feli," Roma reminded him kindly. "But at least now we have assurance nothing like it will happen again. I think you can stop hovering over Antonio, Lovi," he said, giving his grandson a pointed look.
Lovino's scowl deepened, but he reluctantly called off the guards he'd had on Antonio the moment he'd set foot off their estate. Feliciano shifted in his seat, then called to the driver, "Take us back by the hospital."
"Sì, boss."
Roma smiled kindly. "Ludwig will be fine. He's as strong and stubborn as his grandfather."
"That doesn't mean we should stop taking care of them," said Feliciano stiffly.
"You're right, you're right. I think I'll stay there as well. Perhaps I can take Germania's mind off things."
"Pervert," Lovino muttered.
"Oh, like you're any better?" laughed Roma
Lovino blushed, glaring at his grandfather. Feliciano cracked a smile. It was easier to relax now, yes, but he wouldn't sleep well until Ludwig was home again. Their home. His dogs were missing him too, but Feliciano didn't think he could bring them to visit. They might more or less own the place, but he still doubted the doctors would appreciate have three large dogs making a dash for their master.
BREAK/BREAK\BREAK
Gilbert was gone again when they got to Ludwig's room. Germania was starting to nod in his chair, Ludwig dozing. Both woke as soon as the door opened, which Feliciano took as a good sign. They'd lightened his morphine dose a bit, at least. Germania looked tired, though. Roma sighed dramatically, coming over to pull him from the chair.
"You. Me. Dinner. Now."
"But-
"Now."
"Roma-
"Subito."
Germania was half dragged out the door, making Feliciano giggle. "Mamma used to say he could rival an Italian house wife. She wasn't wrong. Now, how was your dinner?"
Ludwig regarded him carefully. "Something happened. What?"
"We fixed things."
Blond brows narrowed. "Tell me you didn't start a war over me."
"No, no war."
Feliciano perched on the edge of his bed, taking his hand. He relayed the bit about Natalia straying, and the resulting action Ivan had taken on his own accord. He left out the bit about their warning with Alfred, though. And the fingers. He'd dropped them off with a man they had in the labs, with orders to look for proof they had been removed antemortem. Ludwig might be a butcher by trade, but when it came to the violence of Feliciano's work, they had a sort of 'don't ask don't tell' policy set firmly in place.
"So now if you want, I can bring you some of Katyusha's delicious pastries for breakfast," he finished brightly.
Ludwig was still turning the new information over, saying idly, "Ja, ja. But are you sure that's it?"
"Sì, that's it. Ivan didn't know, and he punished those who went behind his back. Very simple. Oh, and I finally met Mathew's brother. He's nice, but I think he'd drive you crazy."
"He can't be any worse than Mein Bruder," Ludwig said wearily.
Feliciano chuckled. "Eh, we'll see. Now, what do you think about trying to smuggle in the dogs? I'd have to do it one at a time, I think, but if I do it at night we could get away with it."
BREAK/BREAK\BREAK
It was late when Lovino stepped into their house, shedding his hat and coat. "Antonio?" he called, sniffing. It smelled like his boyfriend was in the kitchen. Always a good sign.
A moment later, Antonio poked his head into the front hall, smiling brightly. "Lovi! I hope you're hungry. I made too much for just one."
Lovino frowned. "You knew I'd be home?"
"Of course."
"How?"
Antonio just winked, tapping the side of his nose. "Wash up and you can help me, Lovi." He pecked the Italian on the lips, then retreated to the kitchen again.
Lovino sighed. "Arrogant bastardo pomodoro."
"That's not nice," Antonio whined. "And I'm making tomato soup too. With the garlic cheese bread you like."
Shoulders drooping meekly, Lovino retreated to clean up. As much as he wanted to throttle his arrogant boyfriend...he made an amazing tomato soup, especially when the fruit was picked fresh from their garden. Not to mention the perfectly cheesy, perfectly crunchy, perfectly spiced bread he made to go with it. Lovino was something of a snob when it came to food, but Antonio was one of the few people who could produce dishes that were not only edible but delicious on a regular basis. At least by Lovino's standards.
Antonio was stirring the pot when Lovino joined him in the kitchen, peering into it thoughtfully. When he saw Lovino, he grabbed a spoon. "Taste, Lovi? I think I got it right."
The Italian took it, trying a spoonful. "Va bene," he said simply, nodding.
"Perfect timing. Take out the bread?"
Antonio puttered around, taking down bowels and setting the table. Lovino took the bread from the oven, carefully transferring it to the basket, cursing when it singed his fingers. He set the basket on the table, then poured them both some wine as Antonio filled both bowels with soup.
Lovino watched him work, feeling the tension gradually leave his shoulders. There was no such thing as safe, especially when you had ties to the mafia, but for now they were close enough. The main threat was neutralized, Antonio wasn't under immediate danger anymore. Lovino tried not to think about it much, especially in moments like this. Life was never as long as you thought it'd be, and he wanted to spend it with the Spaniard while he could, like this. In their house, pretending they were normal, doing things together.
"Lovi? What's wrong?" asked Antonio, cocking his head at him.
Lovino shook his head. "Nothing. Let's eat, I'm hungry."
BREAK/BREAK\BREAK
Roma rested his head on Germania's chest, tracing patterns on one bare arm. "He'll be fine, you know. He's too much like you not to be."
Germania sighed, fingering the Don's silver streaked hair. "I know. But they're our children, our grandchildren. It's our curse to always worry."
"Don't I know it," chuckled Roma. "Still, it's nice to know I can take your mind off it."
"Is that what you call this?"
"You certainly weren't thinking about them a minute ago."
The German made a face.
Roma laughed, leaning up to kiss him slowly. "Mmm, think they'll be fine without us a little longer?"
His lover seemed to consider this, then leaned up to kiss him once more, rolling over to pin him down again. Roma relaxed, closing his eyes and returning the kiss as he tangled his fingers in long silver blond hair. It might be a more than 'a little longer', but he doubted anyone was going to complain.
BREAK/BREAK\BREAK
"You found it!"
Ivan smiled faintly as Alfred took the watch, turning it over excitedly. Once assured it wasn't damaged, he started to wind it, not relaxing until he heard it ticking away again. Looking up to beam at Ivan, the Russian wondered for the hundredth time that night how he could possibly tell him. He wanted to crush Natalia's throat just for exposing Alfred to his work, never mind almost starting a costly and bloody war with the Italian's. Alfred was one of the most innocent, genuinely good people he'd ever met. He wanted to keep him that way, and away from the Bratva.
He was jerked from his thoughts as Alfred threw his arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Ivan hesitated, then slowly hugged him back, turning his face into the blond's neck. For all he knew, it would be the last time he could do it. What would Alfred say? What would he do? If he kicked Ivan out, demanded he leave the younger man alone, he would. Normally he ignored any and all orders, but for Alfred he would listen, obey, even if it broke his heart.
Stepping back a pace, hands on Ivan's shoulders, he asked, "So where was it?"
Ivan hesitated, then smiled. "Some friends mentioned thieves scouting the area. They take things they can pawn off, only a few things per place, so no one calls police. I made them give it back."
Alfred looked surprised. "Seriously? That's...why haven't I heard about this?"
"They were successful," Ivan said simply. "Like you, you thought you lost it, da?"
He wasn't completely bought yet, but then he was also very happy to get the watch back, eyes focused on the thing, checking it all over. Ivan waited anxiously, getting more worried by the second. Alfred was a little oblivious, not stupid.
Eventually, though, he looked up at him and smiled. It wasn't a wide, beaming smile like before. It was a little more subdued, almost sad. "You're lying, Vanya. I think you'd lie more if you weren't so 'privet'. Just promise me I'm not some side bitch, and I'll be cool with you telling me in your own time."
Ivan stared at him, surprised. He'd wondered how long Alfred had known, but didn't dare ask. At the same time, he was still unwilling to tell him the full truth. Alfred had a very strong moral compass, yet he'd still stayed with him despite having doubts.
The Russian reached out, taking Alfred's face in his hands. Leaning down, he planted a kiss on his lover's lips, slow and gentle, but undoubtedly firm. "Never, my Sunflower. There is only you. I swear it."
Alfred's real smile returned. He leaned up a little, placing a light peck on Ivan's lips before pulling away. As he went to return the watch to his room he asked, "So, ya in the mood for Chinese or pizza?"
The Russian watched him disappear into the next room, cracking a small, weary smile. "I think today deserves treat. Put on shoes, I will take you to McDonalds."
The blond poked his head back out, face returning to the wide beaming smile that lit up his entire face. "Really? What happened to once a month only?"
Ivan chuckled. "Like I said, Sunflower, long day. McDonalds, ice-cream, and vodka."
"You're on!" crowed Alfred, ducking back into his room. He reappeared mere seconds later, hopping as he tried to stuff his feet into his sneakers. "What are the chances of me out drinking you this time?"
"None."
"Challenge excepted, Vanya! Come on, let's go."
Ivan let himself be dragged out of the apartment, stopping long enough to make sure Alfred locked the door. Ivan worried, and not unduly. As the Italians had proved, getting to Alfred wasn't impossible. The idea that someone would lay a hand on him was...unbearable.
Natalia was out of the country. The Italian's were satisfied with their treaty. His remaining men were now acutely reminded of what happened if you turned on the boss. For the moment at least, Alfred was safe. Maybe he could ease him into what it was he did. Alfred had proven to be vigilant, when he was actually aware of a threat. If he knew what to be weary of, he'd be much harder to touch.
But he would worry about that later. Alfred loved McDonalds and ice-cream with the same childlike enthusiasm he gave comic books and video games. Ivan found it oddly endearing, like many of Alfred's other quirks. He knew that, at least here in a America, he shouldn't be drinking vodka, but then he could swing it as well as a Russian. His competitive nature meant that every time Ivan indulged him, he'd try to out-drink the man, thus far with no luck. It was cute, actually, and he was quite funny when he was drunk. It had indeed been a very long day, long and bloody and draining. It was getting late, almost midnight, but it was going to be worth it. If nothing else, at least it would end on a high note.
Subito - now
Mein Bruder- my brother
Va bene- it's good
[]
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