A/N: More trigger warnings apply here. [self-harm]
Chapter 7
Serpents
It didn't take long for Ludwig to see there was a change in his little Italian friend. Feliciano was usually so cheery and chirpy, always so hungry and mooching whenever he had food. It was understandable that he would act differently after losing his parents, though it still worried the German.
Feliciano would come into class in a haze most days, eyes unfocused and ears deaf. He would smile and greet Ludwig and promptly continue on with acting like he wasn't there. He would open books and stare at random pages without reading or take out notebooks and just scribble the same circle over and over. There were no playful or bored doodles anymore, just dark lines and nonsense.
He had completely checked out and the teachers all allowed it.
It was known by the whole school what had happened and Ludwig was starting to see how damaging it really was to let Feliciano go to class but not give him work. He wasn't "working through things" but basking in the thoughts and memories of their deaths. Ludwig tried speaking privately to a couple of his teachers, who he also had for higher-level classes, but they all gave the same excuses about not being able to divulge another student's confidential personal business or some nonsense about giving him time to heal.
It sounded logical, but not for Feliciano. Feliciano couldn't be given that much time alone with himself, Ludwig knew him too well; he knew the Italian would think himself numb and let it take over him. He had anxiety issues that he confided to Ludwig about when they met. He admitted to being nervous around new people and his small blind fear they might just be mean and waiting to attack.
Ludwig never did understand the fear, but fears aren't meant to be logical.
It had been two weeks since the funeral and Feliciano showed no signs of recovering. His bruises from the apparent attack had all faded and the stitches in his head were taken out already. His limp was getting better though Ludwig didn't know if his toes were healing or if he was just used to the pain.
It didn't help that Lovino and Antonio had left earlier that week to go back home. Since they left it got worse. Feliciano was either numb or emotional and Ludwig didn't know what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to pretend nothing happened and let Feliciano pretend with him? Was he supposed to ask his friend how he was holding up and risk bringing back more pain? Things wouldn't be so hard if his parents weren't dead. If they were horrible people this would be so much easier… wouldn't it?
The bell rang and Ludwig snapped out of his thoughts. He was surprised to see Feliciano was already out the door and hurrying out of school. It was jarring to see the apathetic little Italian suddenly so quick.
It was weird seeing him so depressed.
Feliciano sat quietly at the bench by the carpool lane, waiting for Elizaveta to pick him up. He was still on "paid leave" from the flower shop with the excuse that Roderich didn't want him stressing himself out any more than he already was. His caretakers had to return to work (though Roderich had been there on odd hours during the whole ordeal). Elizaveta still promised to leave work to get him from school, apologetically telling him she'd have to go back afterwards.
The small car pulled up and he jumped in with his lighter-than-air backpack. The woman smiled at him, asking how his day was, disappointed to get the same answer: "It was fine."
They continued to drive in silence for a few minutes until she remembered he would be alone for the first time. "Feli, will you be okay being alone tonight? Roddy and I wouldn't be home until nearly ten."
"Si, I'll be okay."
"It's perfectly understandable if you want someone there."
Feliciano looked at her, confused. "Do you not trust me? I won't burn your house down, promise."
She chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Just call us if you need anything, we'll be more than happy to come back home. There's some frozen dinners in the freezer you can make yourself tonight when you get hungry."
She pulled into the driveway and Feliciano got out alone and watched her as she backed out onto the street. He was actually alone now. It was new—he had never been alone at someone else's house before. He pulled his house key out and went inside, locking the door as he closed it.
The house was so quiet. It was a weird, booming silence that was practically white noise flooding Feliciano's ears. A whimper escaped his throat and it came crashing down on him; he never realized how much he hated being alone. Before it was scary because it was the calm before the storm, the waiting period, wondering when his mom would come home or his dad would wake up. Now he was just alone. Roderich and Elizaveta were gone until ten and it was almost uncomfortable having such a regulated life now.
Feliciano wandered the house, trying to find something to do to calm his nerves or to distract himself. He could faintly remember his home when he was just a little kid, probably four-years-old. It was the same house he had always lived in, but new and perfect. That was before things fell apart, before the walls were decorated in sparkles of glass shards and specks of darkened blood.
It was haunting and the guilt built up in his stomach, resenting himself for only thinking of the bad times at his home. Frustrated with himself he angrily kicked a side table, gasping and sobbing quickly when a few of his broken toes smacked into the hard surface. He lost his balance and fell on his ass, tightly holding onto his foot, hoping to stop the blood and pain from rushing in.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he wailed to himself, eyes screwed shut. He stopped his weak sobs and breathed in deeply when the pain faded to a small throb. He opened his eyes again and looked at the table, amazed he could lose his temper like Lovino was so prone to. That really hurt, why the hell did he do that?
Right. Because he's an awful child to only think of the bad times. That was why.
He got back up and stumbled to his room, closing the door quietly out of habit. The bed felt so soft and welcoming to his somehow stiff body. He closed his eyes and hummed, annoyed when the bad thoughts came back. The thoughts that told him he was wasting everyone's time; that he wasn't worth the teachers' time at school, that he was a burden for living with the Edelsteins yet not working. It told him how ungrateful he was to think so lowly of his poor, dead parents and the home he used to have. There were homeless kids and parents who lock their children in basements or sheds, he should be happy for what he had!
He hummed louder, wanting to drown out the thoughts. They had been building up since the funeral and they wouldn't go away. He used to be able to sit down and draw anything and keep a blank mind. He was able to walk around the school and feel happy for no reason at all. He used to be excited for art class and be proud of his work.
It wasn't fair. Why was he losing himself like this? Did everyone become this way after death? Why was he acting so hurt and Lovino was fine?
What was happening to him?
He sat up abruptly and placed his head in his hands. Deep breaths did nothing to ease his mind or calm him down. He used to draw or nap when he was upset but art became more work than it was worth and he had trouble sleeping without those pain meds Roderich ran out of. Panic began to rise in his throat when he realized he had lost his only two methods of calming down and he had no idea what to do.
"Calm, calm," his voice wavered. "Calm down, Feli, calm…" He was almost shaking and brought his knees up to his chest to hold onto. The action sent a wave of pain to his toes again and he inhaled sharply. They numbed down again, and it hit Feliciano: he felt better.
He actually felt a little calmer than he did a minute ago. The feelings paused while he sat there, curled up, deep in thought. He found something that helped! He didn't have to panic, he had a solution. That in itself brought him down from his trembling, but it didn't stop the pain stabbing at his heart.
Feliciano curled his toes in, wincing at the anticipated pain. He curled them as hard as he could before the pain erupted and forced him to relax his foot. A small wave of calm danced over his skin and he smiled. He curled his toes again, waited, relaxed. The feeling was too far from the emotional pain locked in his torso, so he reached his hand over to his left arm and pinched the skin with his nails. The pain wasn't as intense but it would work.
After the bout of relaxation he laid his head back down and snuggled into the pillows. He felt drained from being upset so recently and had no trouble falling asleep.
The front door creaked open as Roderich came into the dimly-lit house.
"Feliciano must be asleep already," he observed.
"Poor thing has been so tired lately," Elizaveta added. "Do you think the bed's not comfy enough?"
Roderich looked at her and she went quiet. They both knew it wasn't the case. Elizaveta took note of the clean state of the kitchen, wondering if Feliciano ate at all or if he was just very cleanly. She frowned at the thought of him going hungry. While Roderich entered the kitchen to get them a late dinner, she crept to Feliciano's door, opening it slightly to see his calm face and his little body wrapped up in the comforters. At least he could sleep again.
"Hey, Feliciano, I want to talk with you."
Feliciano looked up from his desk, surprised that Ludwig would initiate a conversation. The past two weeks were spent in awkward silence until now.
"What is it?"
The blonde rubbed his neck nervously. "I wanted to know how you've been."
"I've been fine."
"Don't," he warned. "Don't try to give me some half-assed lie."
"But I'm not."
It was eerie how calm he was being again. Ludwig watched him for a moment, trying to figure him out. "We're friends, ja?"
"Si, we are."
"Then act like it."
Feliciano's eyes widened. "What?"
"I said act like it." The aggression faded from his tone and his face softened. "Feli, don't block me out. Please, mein friend. Don't be like that idiot Alfred, don't play the hero. I know things are hard on you right now but it won't get better if you push your friends away."
Feliciano was shocked to hear such words from his stoic friend. He was used to being reprimanded for stupid things like drawing cats all over his binders, not calmly reminded that he had friends to lean on. "I just need to be alone," he murmured.
"You've been alone. You've isolated yourself for weeks and is it helping? Do you really feel better?"
He opened his mouth and closed it again. Ludwig had a point, he had to admit it was miserable not talking about his feelings like he used to be so prone to. He remembered last night, when he finally calmed down. Things will get better alone, they already started to!
"I do. Things are finally getting better. Don't ruin that."
Ludwig's jaw dropped at the sudden change in tone. "Fine. You can keep making yourself miserable, just remember I'm here when you need someone. Promise me you won't let things get too bad, Feli."
"I promise," he said softly.
Though he knew inside that he wouldn't be keeping that promise. They both knew.
"Serpents" by Sharon Van Etten
It was a close call
Sitting in the back of the room
With a bowl you had owned
But they didn't know
Close in on my black eye
I feel safe at times
Certain emblems
Tell me it's time
Serpents in my mind
Looking for your crimes
Everything changes
I don't want mine to this time
