Chapter V

The next people that Antonio came across were the only two females in this unusual group: Femke and little Lilly. It shouldn't be too hard getting along with girls; Antonio knew he was a relatively good-looking guy himself, so he could easily breeze through this.

He peaked in through the open door, and Femke was softly speaking to the young blonde girl in a language that sounded fairly close to Dutch while brushing the little girl's hair. Antonio found it lovely but also unnerving by the fact that these people like to talk to each other in their own languages. It was definitely cool listening in, but it made him feel so out of it, because there was no one he could cheerfully converse with in Spanish.

The young Spaniard rapped lightly on the door, and he instantly felt guilty for making both blondes flinch, Lilly with a small, startled gasp, and Femke with a sharp intake of breath (it was probably also important to note on how uptight these people were).

Antonio shifted slightly from the icy green glare he got from Femke, but after the young lady realized it was just him, the cold stare softened, and in that moment, Femke once again looked truly beautiful and lovely.

"Good evening, Antonio," The Belgian said softly with a pretty smile, looking actually a bit shy and timid. The little girl in her lap shrank back a bit, as any child would upon encountering a stranger. The fear lessened in her eyes when Femke gave her a little nudge, and she shyly gave her own hello.

Antonio forced himself to smile his attractive, movie star, Hollywood smile, and stepped into the room. "Good evening, ladies."

Femke's cheeks looked a little pink and her smile was a little more flirty when she asked, "And what brings you to our humble abode, stranger?"

Antonio shrugged, and he honestly prayed that this woman wouldn't flirt with him. "Just dropping in with the misses. My mum always told me that pretty girls need special attention."

Femke giggled, and even Lilly managed her own shy smile. "Oh, you're such a charmer! We definitely needed someone like you around here."

But then Femke's smile lost its brilliance, replacing it with pity and sorrow. "Things...things have gotten pretty downhill the past couple of days...people coming and going...supplies getting harder and harder to get..." Her voice was so soft and frightened, like she was a little girl again, and it made a lump form in Antonio's throat. "It's...just not...fair. Especially putting children through this..."

The blonde lady resumed brushing Lilly's hair, and even from across the room Antonio could see her eyes looking more than a little bit watery.

Antonio wasn't attracted to women, that much was true, but he was still a gentleman, and gentlemen always comfort damsels in distress.

He sat down beside the blonde, put a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly.

"Things are rough all over," He murmured. "But we're going to go through it together. All of us. For as long as I stay with your people, I promise that I will do everything in my power to keep everyone safe."

The brush had stopped moving. The hand gripping the handle was trembling. The free hand shakily raised, and covered Antonio's hand, squeezing lightly as well.

"Don't get too cocky so early, stranger."

Antonio blinked futilely, either not fully comprehending the statement or simply choosing not too.

As if noticing the young man's startled expression, Femke turned around and smiled through her tears at Antonio as if she never said a word.

"Not saying that everyone here doesn't thoroughly appreciate your loyalty, darling Antonio," She added sweetly, her long eyelashes batting subtly with flirtatious intent. "I especially admire you...should you ever feel too overwhelmed by this all, feel free to have a chat with me about...stress relief. I'm sure we'll find something we can both agree on."

Wink.

Biting off the urge to shiver, Antonio pulled his hand away from Femke's and stood up, forcing another fakeass smile on his face.

"Aha...of course, of course. I should probably take my leave now, though..."

"So soon?" The blonde's voice had dipped down to a slow, silky tone. "Aw, stay for a little while longer with us..."

"I, ah, actually need to chat with Vash and Daan," Antonio stuttered, feeling this strange urge to just turn and bolt out of the room. It was something in the way Femke was looking at him that made him get this uneasy, unsettling sensation in his abdomen.

Thankfully, the Belgian, looking sweet and kind once again, nodded and said,

"Come back soon, dearest..."

Antonio couldn't feel any less eager about seeing Vash and Daan.

Well, that could've gone a lot less creepy, Antonio decided with a grimace as he padded down the hall to the second last door. Okay, so, he knew that seducing was supposed to sound sexy and enticing for men, but...would it be too big of an excuse for him to politely disagree with that just because he's gay? Would he get entranced if he was straight?

Ah, hell. Why was he even pressing on that? With his fucked-up mentality, Femke probably was just sounding normal and kind. Women can't be creepy.

...But they could, couldn't they?

Shut the fuck up, brain, Antonio ordered bitterly, and raised his hand to knock on the door. Unlike the other doors, this one was shut, so he was forced to knock and not prance in like he's been here all his life.

"Come in." The voice was deep, dark, and low, and since all the assholes in here sounded the same, Antonio couldn't distinguish who was who. But he walked in anyways, forcing yet another smile on his face, despite whoever was behind this door. And oh, his luck was all on his side today, for he walked in on a deep conversation Vash, Daan, and Arthur were having.

Blinkin' hell. It was like he was a piece of meat that walking into a hall full of hyenas from the fucking African horizon. Three pairs of ice-cold eyes landed on him. Antonio hated to admit it, but these poofs would be so damn handsome if it wasn't for the pissy attitudes and dangerous auras.

"Well, well, gentlemen. It seems that the fresh fish has decided to join us," came a clipped voice, laced with a brilliant English accent.

Vash narrowed his eyes at the young Spaniard; Daan sighed loudly and looked rather bored; Arthur looked amused with a stupid, plastic smirk on his perfect, bastardly face.

"Get to it, fishy. What'cha want?"

Although fear rattled his insides from the fact that these people could kill him right here and right now, Antonio swallowed down his anxiety and quietly responded with, "To make amends."

Arthur let out a short bark of laughter, not allowing either of the other two men to speak their mind, before it tapered down into a sneer. "Sod off."

"No, really. We might've gotten on the wrong track, and I'm sorry for that. I honestly and truly am."

"Sorry? You're fuckin' sorry?" Arthur stood up abruptly, making Antonio flinch away against the door. "No. No, you're not sorry, you condescending little prick. You can't be sorry for jackshit. A little fish like yourself is going to get eaten in a few days, so I'm going to feel sorry for you. Go be useless somewhere else."

Despite the frightening truth in Arthur's words, Antonio lifted his chin, straightened his jaw, and looked the Brit dead in the eye, green meets green. "I know damn well that I'm not useless. You don't even know me and you judge me already."

"I judged you. Past tense. I know exactly what kind of person you are just based on how swiftly you escaped downstairs. I could've slit your throat, but I didn't, and you know why I didn't? Because your efforts amuse me, fishy. You're not getting any pity from me at your short funeral, cockhog."

He was right. The Brit was right. It seemed like he was always fuckin' right. Antonio felt his cheeks get hot, embarrassment getting the better of him, but he wasn't backing down. His hand fumbled for the doorknob outta here, but he didn't exit until he spat out what he wanted to say.

"I'll show you, Arthur. I'm going to prove to you how useful I can be."

"Please."

"Don't give me that! You haven't seen me in the action yet! I'll help out so much with the fence tomorrow you'll be begging on your ass for me not to die."

"Go downstairs and have a wank, moron."

"Consider it a challenge, Arthur! Take me up on it, and you'll see! You'll all fucking see!"

On that note, with a huff, Antonio stormed out of the room, slamming the door closed with a loud bang.

Why couldn't these people understand? It's like they couldn't believe or trust anybody outside of their little circle, and they looked like they even doubted themselves. Antonio sighed, resting his hand on the wooden banister to go back down the stairs. Was this how everyone was like these days? Uptight and brash? He hadn't been around people for a long time. He actually considered going on his own for a while. The feeling that he's going to get stabbed by Arthur would disperse, but...he'd never get to see Lovino again.

"Ow! Pinche tu madre, fuck!"

A sharp, pointed nail sticking out from the railing accidentally caught Antonio's palm, slicing over the soft skin and leaving behind a long, thin trail of red. He clutched his hand to his chest, muttering curses under his breath. Fucking...fifty minutes into this house and something has already tried to stab through his shooting hand. Great.

Lovino was waiting for him in the kitchen, looking as gorgeous and lovely as can be, and when the young Spaniard entered, a smile slipped onto the other's face.

"Hey. How'd it go?"

Antonio made a face, also making a 'so-so' gesture with his uncut hand. "It was...alright..."

"Nobody try to slit your throat again?" A low chuckle from the Italian.

"No...no, nobody..."

And of course Lovino was such an analytical, observant little prick, so he seemed to notice Antonio's distress. He inched forward, and rested a casual hand on the young Spaniard's shoulder.

"Are you okay? You don't look too hot...did somebody say some shit to you or something?"

Antonio bit his lip. Was it really worth snitching on Arthur? Suddenly Antonio felt like he was back in the situation he had when he was a boy in high school, when the older kids would pick on him and he had this inward debate of whether or not he should tell anybody. Would Arthur back off then? Would he be nicer? Oh, decisions, decisions...

The young Spanish man shook his head. "No, not at all, I'm...fine..."

Lovino's gorgeous eyes narrowed, his pupils pinpoints. "...It was Arthur, wasn't it? He said somethin' to you?"

"No! I swear! He didn't, Lovino, it's fine!" Antonio insisted shrilly, voice cracking slightly.

The Italian let out a long whoosh of air, looking pissed and defensive and worried all at the same time. "Antonio," He said sternly. "You're not lying to me, are you?"

"I'm not! Please, Lovino, I'm not! I swear on it!"

Boldly, as if to prove a point, Antonio stepped into Lovino's personal space, right into the Italian's warm arms, and so close he could practically feel Lovino's heartbeat through his chest.

"I'm not lying," Antonio murmured. "It'd be really dumb of me to lie at a time like this, especially when I need you and your people to trust me. Can...can you trust me...? Please?"

Lovino didn't respond for the longest time. Up close, Antonio could see that there were flecks of green around his pupils, as well as a bit of a brown-ish tint. His bronze skin had flushed, but Antonio wasn't sure if it was from the heat in this house or the close proximity. Lovino bit his lip, and Antonio had this urge, this desire, this crave to just lean forward and capture those perfect lips within his own, feel their softness, taste their taste.

"...Okay," The young Italian finally said softly. "Okay, you...you have my trust, Antonio."

The young Spaniard breathed out a quiet sigh of relief, a small grin finding its way onto his face. "Thank you."

With a curt nod, Lovino stepped away from Antonio, not completely however, for he kept his hand on the other's shoulders.

"Anyways, it's gonna be lights-out in a couple of minutes, so maybe we should get you settled in."

"So soon...?" Antonio's reply was breathless, and he then realized how sleepy he was.

Lovino chuckled, and his entire arm slung around Antonio's shoulders as he guided him around the kitchen. "Believe it or not, it's almost ten at night. You're gonna be needing your strength tomorrow for that fence, so you should get a headstart on rest."

Lovino gave him a light push through a room Antonio didn't even notice was in here, a small guest room with a twin bed. "Git going!" He teased, slowly closing the door behind him. "Sleep tight."

"Will do," Antonio murmured, waving shyly at Lovino before the latter left. And then...there was darkness. A small lamp was on, but it barely lit the entire room up. But that bed looked mighty fine, if he didn't say so himself.

Antonio sank down onto the bed after pulling off his shoes, and he let out an embarrassingly loud moan at the pure softness and comfortability this bed had. Man, oh, man...it must've been months the last time he slept on a bed...he forgot how amazing and heavenly they were like.

He got all cozied up under the soft blankets and covers, and snuggled up to his insanely soft pillow. The bed felt like he was laying on a cloud, and someone's hands were lovingly massaging his back, smoothing out all the tense and knotted up muscles. The sensation was incredible. Antonio was quickly drifting off into sleep mode, his eyes fluttering shut and his breathing getting slower, but then he realized something, something he should've asked Lovino earlier.

...How did they get all this stuff?

Morning came too quickly. Morning came too fucking brightly. A broken window across the room from the bed directed the sun to shine exactly onto Antonio's eyelids.

At that precise moment, a few particularly loud knocks came on the door, waking the young Spaniard up more than necessary. He groaned quietly, lifting the covers over his head.

"Piss off," He called drowsily out to whoever was behind his door, not even worrying if it was Lilly, or Lovino.

"Get your stupid, sodding arse out of bed, you little immigrant," Came a very pleasant and soothing English accent.

Antonio was about to make a comment about how the Brit was an immigrant, too, but he decided against it. There's really no need to waste oxygen on a dick. Besides, having a spat with Arthur first thing in the morning would put him in a very disagreeable mood. Also because he wanted to have enough energy to watch Arthur's mouth flop open like a moron when he builds that electric fence in a snap. Then we'll see who's gonna bend over first.

He pulled the covers away from his face with great effort, and pushed himself up onto his wobbly legs to let out a quiet yawn and to stretch.

He winced when the skin on his palm stretched and caused the cut from last night to be ripped open again. Wiping away the trail of blood that bubbled up from the stretch, Antonio tousled his short, wavy hair and confidently strode out of his room.

The house was quiet, but Antonio wasn't exactly surprised. It was sort of obvious how introverted and private these people liked to go on with their lives. He was always a typically loud one, with a clear, strong voice and stunningly bright smile, but...well, he supposes...lots of things have changed...from what life was like a year ago.

At the kitchen table sat Matthew, Francis, Alfred, and Lovino. Antonio's heart sank quite a bit when he realized that none of them were eating.

Lovino approached the young Spaniard first, and to Antonio's surprise, the Italian was handing over a granola bar. "Here."

Antonio stared blankly at the wrapped cereal bar. Oh, Lordy...it's been a long time...his stomach had sprang back to life, begging to be fed, begging to be filled with nutrients and vitamins.

But...no. He...he couldn't take it...he couldn't be selfish like that. There's a little growing girl in this house; he's a grown-up. He can survive much longer than she can. Although...it really has been a very long time...

Antonio swallowed hard, and shook his head, uttering out a meek, "No, thank you..."

Lovino raised a dark eyebrow and didn't back away quite yet. "Why not?" He asked suspiciously.

"I-I can't...I couldn't, I..."

"You're hungry, right? And when you're hungry, you eat. Besides, you're going to be needing the energy for that fence-building you're doing today." The granola bar remained on the palm of Lovino's hand, just inches away from Antonio.

Oh...man...he did want it. He wanted it bad...

No. You have to be assertive. Killing...with kindness.

The young Spaniard gently pushed Lovino's hand away, ignoring the watching eyes of everyone else in the room. "I said, no thank you," He repeated coolly.

Those fierce golden eyes narrowed, and Antonio absent-mindedly thought about how much Lovino resembled a cat.

"...Alright," The Italian muttered, retreating his hand. "More for me." And with that, he unwrapped the granola bar and took a big bite.

Sure, Antonio said mentally. I'd give all my food to you, all for you...

"The guys are outside," Came a soft, accent-free voice, laced with sweetness and gentleness. "They're by the tractor in the backyard."

Antonio smiled slightly at the little blond. "Thanks, Matthew," He murmured before waving at the Frenchman and American and trotting out of the kitchen, out of the house.

This was gonna be a perfect day. Best day of Antonio's fucking life.

It was 3 o'clock. It's been five hours since the Spaniard's woken up, and his limbs already were feeling like they could just fall off. Man, he's been lugging and chopping up two-by-fours and carefully carrying and assembling wires onto the posts...ugh, it was exhausting.

"Get a move on, fishy. C'mon, pick up the pace." Arthur was carrying all that shit like it was weightless, and he was way tinier than Antonio was. So how in the hell? Eh. Experience, probably. These people have been doing this for months now; it should be first-nature to lug around eight pounds of pure woods in each arm.

Antonio was sure glad Daan wasn't speaking to him. The guy was scary enough while he spoke. Vash didn't pay him much regards, either, so it was just bitchy Arthur speaking for them. Well, at least it wasn't really three on one anymore.

Antonio took a short break, explaining that he needed water, and was gulping down a bottled water beside Femke on the nice little porch-swing in front of the house. It was fucking blistering out there...must've definitely been in the high 80s or early 90s for it to be this hot.

"Maybe I should head back to the guys," Antonio said to Femke. "I don't want them to think I'm slacking off."

Femke's pink lips curled into a frown and she shook her head, blonde curls bouncing. "You should drink more water; you'll die of dehydration before anything else," She insisted, and pushed another bottled water at him.

"I haven't finished this first one, though," He protested.

"Drink." It was no longer an option. He had no choice. With a sigh, he finished off the first bottle and started on the second one. "Thanks for...caring, I guess."

The young Belgian woman smiled, reached out, and patted Antonio's arm with the gentleness of a mother. "Of course I care, sweetheart. I care for everybody here with all my heart. I...just might care about you just a tiny bit more. Maybe."

...

Um.

What the fuck?

Okay, this was kinda crossing the line here.

Antonio lowered the bottle from his lips, and was just opening his mouth to ask clearly why this bitch was acting weird, when a loud shriek came from the backyard.

Both their heads whipped around from the piercing cry, and Femke choked out, "W-What was that?"

Antonio was up in a second, leaping off the steps and rushing towards the direction of the scream. As he sprinted, he tried to remember who was in the backyard still when he took a break. Two blonds...green eyes...no, that didn't help at all...short, cropped hair...purple ribbon...

Oh, no.

"Get your fucking hands off her, you bloody bastards!" Antonio arrived just in time to see Arthur yank a wooden board off the utility table and chuck it at the clicker that had Lilly's small arm in a tight grip. The little girl wailed, struggling to pull her arm free, but the clicker was much stronger. The wooden board stunned the clicker momentarily, and Arthur took that chance to grab the small girl and tug her away from Death's grip.

A sigh of relief escaped Antonio's mouth, and he briefly relaxed all his direction reflexes. If only he hadn't...if only...

A powerful hand grabbed hold of Arthur's leg and pulled hard, sending the Brit and the little girl tumbling. Lilly fell out of Arthur's grip, and he thrashed around as he was being dragged down under the fence by the iron-grip of the clicker.

"Antonio! Help me! Please! I beg you!" The Englishman's normally cold eyes were alive with adrenaline and fear, his words were desperate, pleading. Emerald met jade, and Antonio saw himself in Arthur's eyes: helpless, frightened, weak.

But...was it really worth it? Saving Arthur? He was an asshole, cold and mean and bitchy...but he was another human being. And he deserved to live as much as anyone else did.

Another bloodcurdling shriek pulled the Spaniard's attention away, the eye contact breaking. A walker that had been most likely wandering around behind the clicker decided to join in, and the disgusting, infected creature had Lilly in yet another tight grip. Its mouth opened wide, wide enough for Antonio to see its bloody, jagged teeth, ready to close in on Lilly's soft, young flesh, where it would happily feed on her youthful body.

Time slowed to a crawl. It was one or the other.

Was it going to be Arthur...or Lilly?

Then time was picking up the pace. Both of the infected were closing in on their preys, and Antonio made his decision.

"I'm sorry."

Within only a matter of milliseconds, the young Spaniard pulled out his pistol, aimed, and fired at the desired infected.

The walker fell with a thud, dead and gone forever now, and Lilly scrambled away from its arms.

Antonio had just turned to Arthur, pistol raised to shoot the clicker as well...

But it was...too late.

Needle-like teeth sank into the Englishman's throat, and the life left Arthur's body as soon as the incisors clipped his main artery. The clicker gnawed into his throat viciously, ripping open his flesh and tearing off chunks one by one, until there was nothing but a body, a dislocated head, and a flood of pure red blood staining the grass.

Bang.

A shotgun bullet whizzed past Antonio, barely nicking his arm, but effectively halting the clicker from continuing to feed. The clicker let out an ugly, strangled, hissing sound, before it went silent and fell to the ground with a thud.

And then...there was silence. The silence was eventually broken by heartbroken, soul-shattering sobs.

"Artie..." The young American dropped his gun, and dropped to his knees beside his deceased lover. "My baby...no...no, no, no..."

The tough, powerful-looking Alfred's shield had broken. It had been ripped apart; that seemed more accurate. He was broken, like he was a mirror someone had just smashed in with a hammer. The sobs were so full of emotion, so powerful, so real that it brought tears to Antonio's eyes.

Then the whole crew was outside, watching the scene with horror-stricken eyes. Lilly was tucked safely into Vash's arms, little heart-wrenching sobs shaking her small body. Her older brother held her close, turning her away from the bloody scene and whispering words in Dutch to her.

Matthew was the first to speak. "Oh...Alfred...I'm so...so sorry..."

"Shut the fuck up," His American brother snapped savagely, sounding deadly pissed and dangerous. "Just shut the fuck up, Matt."

The small Canadian flinched from the bitter words, and he actually backed up a bit. "B-But-"

"But fucking nothing, Matthew. I'm sick and tired of hearing your bullshit! Don't say your sorry! You're not fucking sorry! YOUR boyfriend is still alive. You don't get to be sorry. And as for you-"

Alfred turned his ice-cold, hard blue glare to Antonio, and when he saw the tears, he could almost feel the American's sorrow and heartache and despair.

"I hope you're happy. I knew he was an asshole to you, but you are such a piece of shit for letting him die like that."

"I-I was trying to save both of then," The Spaniard whispered, forcing the lump back down his throat.

"But you didn't. I hope you fucking rot in Hell. Now, all of you...get the fuck out of my house."

Nobody moved. Everybody held their breath, too scared to move or speak.

Alfred's eyes flashed darkly. He picked up shotgun once again, and stood up, forcing everyone back a step. "I said, get the fuck out of here. And don't even think about coming back here ever again."

Slowly, people moved, inching out of Alfred's yard without complaints. A soft hand took Antonio's stiff one, pulling gently. "C'mon," an equally soft voice whispered.

Antonio wasn't aware of where he was going. He just let the person lead him to wherever next was on the map. And he didn't speak. And he didn't cry. And he didn't think. Didn't think about the clickers. Didn't think about Alfred. Didn't think about the pissy Englishman he used to know. And he certainly didn't think of those dead green eyes staring into his eyes, still holding that same, pleading look.

A/N: Hallo. Wow, it's been...erm... aha... a month? More than that? Oh wow, ahahaha... ha. ._. I'm... i'm sorry. Honestly im so bad at this shit its not even funny.

Anyways! I'm sooo so sorry for killing off sweet sexy Iggy like that! I have nothing against him at all. He's actually one of my favourite countries , and im currently snuggling my Iggy and Flying Mint Bunny plushies to my chest like a madwoman. ;~;

So... eeeeeyup. Oneshot's next, and then another chappie. Hopefully. Bleh.

Hope you enjoyed my shit writing!

Stay classy.