Lovino


Paradise Falls, The Capital Wasteland.

The way this man spoke was unusual. It's almost as if he put the emphasis on all of the wrong syllables.

"Good work, Denmark. I knew I could count on you to get the job done."

Good work, Denmark. I knew Icouldcountonyou to get thejob done. It's almost as if he put the emphasis on all of the wrong syllables. What a strange man.

"You've earned your caps, once again. You and your team." The words registered slowly in Lovino's mind; a lot slower than they should have. Still, the man sounded strange, it's almost as if he put the emphasis…

"Some would say that we are the best, boss." Lovino thought that he could see Denmark smirk a little, but who really knows.

"Yes, some would say that. You are very good, Denmark, but you are not the best yet."

Denmark's smirk faltered, if he was indeed smirking. "It's that Russian, isn't it."

"Many would say so, yeah. But anyhow, now is not the time to discuss matters like that. You're here for your caps, I would presume. Not unless you're going to turn this into another Finland situation."

Denmark turned briefly to Norway. No, he was looking at Lovino. Just then did Lovino see the sympathy in his usually bright eyes. Lovino looked to Norway, who still held tightly to his wrist, and witnessed the same look dimming his blue eyes. The Italian felt more offended by this than he should have. He felt the world's speed return to normal as he caught up with it. Nothing was muddled and confusing, nothing was shadowed and dim. He was there, being sold to a masked man who couldn't speak right by a couple of blond idiots who made more than a few bad decisions in their lives. There wasn't any danger here, and there wasn't anything to be afraid of.

He straitened himself as Denmark answered his boss, swallowing before he spoke. "No, of course not."

"Good, because I couldn't let you keep this one even if you wanted to. Much too valuable. Eh, Heracles!" The strange man called for his servant, whom Lovino had not even noticed when they had entered the room. A man perked up from the left wall of the room where he sat, somewhat scantily clad, on a long, black wardrobe with some sort of small animal rubbing against him. The glance he shot Denmark's boss was not one of good intent; instead it was a stare of begrudging annoyance and malcontentedness.

The boss gestured for him to act with an eyebrow motion and a head nod in Denmark's direction, which made the man open the top drawer, dig out a good-sized, heavy bag, and hop from the surface of the wardrobe.

"Five hundred caps," the dark-skinned leader of the slavers uttered slowly, giving his servant enough time to make it across the room.

Denmark looked slightly taken aback. "Wait, five hundred? But you promised six!"

"I lied," he hissed in response.

Denmark and Norway exchanged shocked glances before Den swiped the bag out of the shirtless slave's outstretched hands. Lovino noticed, with quite a shock, cat ears positioned on his head. They looked fake until he saw them flick towards minuscule sounds as he handed over the bag. He also had what looked like… paw pads tattooed onto his palms? He didn't get a good look before the servant lowered his arms, slumping back to the wardrobe he had come from to stoke his strange, cat-like little animal.

There was a knock on the door behind Lovino and a head appeared in the entrance to the room.

"Oh, Dobriy vyecher, Denmark," the man said cheerfully. "I am not interrupting, no?"

The hair on Lovino's neck stood on end as the man stepped into the room, and he could feel it as everyone else around him reacted in the same way. Despite the happy tone and cheerful greeting, the man who had just appeared before Lovino registered as the kind to be avoided. His bright purple eyes told Lovino to run, and the long cream scarf draped around his neck and the heavy coat he wore during the hottest part of the summer was suspicious at least.

Denmark's body tensed and his brow furrowed in either frustration or anger, Lovino could not tell which. "No, Ivan, we were just finishing up here," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"Good! I noticed you coming back from your trip down south, with the vault-dweller." His violet eyes flashed a menacing glance toward Lovino, making his stomach jump slightly.

"How did you know about that?" Spoke Norway, gripping the Italian's wrist a little tighter.

"I know a lot of things, Bondevik," Ivan responded. Norway's eyes went wide and he unhanded Lovino's wrist.

"H-how do you know my name?" He stammered, looking almost as if he was about to fall backwards.

"Like I said, I know a lot of things. Knowledge and power go hand in hand, Lukas, even you should understand that."

Lovino looked to Norway, who stood, just barely, next to him. His blue eyes were wide and he looked desperately at Denmark. Lovi didn't understand why he had acted so drastically to the Russian's information. So what he knew his name, big deal.

"Alright, okay, good show," the masked man behind them started clapping his hands sarcastically. "Ivan, is there any reason you're in here, other than to pick fights with one of my best teams?"

"Ahhhh, yes actually," he stepped closer to Lovino, surveying him quietly.

"I have come to make the offer on this vault-dweller." Lovino shivered. Not this guy. Anyone but this guy.

"Sorry, Ivan, I already have a buyer lined up."

He raised his eyebrows, still fixated on the slave before him. "I can top him."

"It's a her, actually, and I doubt you could. She's a collector, and a devoted one at that. She's had her eyes on this one since word got out."

"But no one on the wastes has as much to offer as I do. There is no way she could outbid me."

"I would not be too sure, Ivan. If you knew her like I did, you wouldn't be this confident. She's young, but she will fight for what she wants." The Russian shifted on his feet.

"Who is she?" His head tilted upwards.

All eyes shifted to the boss, who's name Lovino still did not know. He only offered a smile from his throne.

As if on cue, both doors opened wide. The eyes in the room all darted back to the doors as they fell into a shocked silence. Her black heeled boots clicked on the floor as she took a few slow steps, her arms falling back to her sides and the doors swinging closed behind her.

"Sadiq," She spoke, "you aren't going to sell my vault-dweller to Ivan, are you?" She flashed the Russian a smirk, who matched it with his own grin.

"No, of course not, Elizabeta. He was threatening to top your offer, however. Told him it would never happen."

"Is that so?" Her eyes narrowed mischievously to keep up with her lips. "My offer of one thousand caps?"

Ivan lifted an eyebrow. "Easily. One thousand five hundred."

"One thousand six hundred." She hissed.

Lovino couldn't believe his ears. Not only were they bidding him off right in front of him, but they were throwing out numbers Lovino had never heard of. Well, of course he had heard of them, but to think of that many caps in one place? It was ridiculous. Antonio was lucky to have five caps in his possession at once.

"Eight."

Elizabeta looked ready to smack the smug grin from Ivan's lips. "Two thousand." She sneered.

Ivan still did not look phased. "Two thousand two hundred."

Elizabeta balled her fists, calmly clenching and unclenching them, withdrawing into herself for a moment while the Russian glared her down innocently.

"Is that it, Eliza-" Sadiq started, but was unable to finish before she cut him off, calmly calling another number.

"Three thousand caps."

Lovino could hear Denmark gasp and Norway take a sharp breath. Sadiq's mouth snapped shut and Ivan's smile momentarily faltered. There was a stilled silence in the big room. Even Heracles had his cat ears focused towards the transaction.

"Very well. Take the vault-dweller, he is no use to me anyways." Ivan took a step towards the doors before turning his body to face them. He placed a hand on the rusty handle and turned his eyes to Elizabeta.

"But this is not the last you will hear on the matter, Héderváry. I am coming back for that slave. He is very much the cutie and would look good in my living room. Do svidaniya!" And with that, he took his leave.

Fear overtook Lovino as he wondered how a man could be so bloodcurdlingly creepy with such a happy tone. Something about Ivan was not right, and worse yet, he wanted his malicious hands on Lovino. However, the broad that had just outbid the scariest man on earth did not seem near as bad. Actually, she seemed very pretty...

"Overdid it a bit, didn't he?" She asked to no one in particular, relaxing her tense body and giving her dress a pat as if to brush off some dirt.

"Didn't you?" Asked Denmark, shock ringing in his voice. "Three thousand caps? For him? Hey boss, we should have gotten paid more."

"Leave, Denmark."

"But-"

"Leave."

Sadiq's word was final, and Denmark turned to exit the building. His lips had tightened into a snarl but he kept them closed. He gave Lovino one last look before pulling the door open forcefully and taking off into the lit clearing, presumably off to find his team mates. Norway sighed and followed him, catching the door just before it closed and heading out after his friend. Lovino realized that he wasn't the only one with a place to remember.

As soon as the doors closed once again and silence fell over the three remaining in the room, Sadiq spoke.

"Elizabeta, three thousand caps? Where are you hiding it, little girl?" His lips broke into tiny smile.

"I've been... saving up for a while. It's surprising how much people will pay for a little entertainment." Sadiq raised his eyebrows and dropped his jaw slightly.

"No no, not like that. I was talking about Roderich. He is quite talented, you know. You should come by and see him perform one day."

"I think I will pass. But as for the caps-"

"I'll take care of that, sir. It might take a moment, but you'll get your payment."

"Surely I could lend you our truck-"

"I said I will have it taken care of." The feisty girl emphasized the last three words, making it clear that she wouldn't need his assistance.

Lovino shifted from one foot to another impatiently. The girl who had just bought him for an absurd amount of money was standing mere feet from him, debating means of payment with a slaver. Lovi could honestly say that he had not anticipated anything remotely like this to take place last week when he was still in his vault. It was hard to believe that the last time he had seen those cold metal walls and dusty whirring machines had been but a week ago. Definitely the longest week in his life, hands down.

"So, can I take him now, or do you want to wait until your payment has been received?" She questioned.

"I think I'll keep him here, just to be safe. No offense, of course."

Elizabeta huffed a breath. "None taken. I completely understand, especially in this business. Give me about...three days to gather the caps? Yes, three days. I'll be back in three days, and my vault-dweller better be in tip-top condition."

Lovino inhaled and exhaled deeply. It seemed like an odd time to realize how hungry he was, and he quietly prayed that no one would hear his growling stomach. He wet his lips nervously, paying little mind to the transaction taking place before him. He felt so defenseless and afraid, despite how many times he told himself not to be. There should be something that Antonio had taught him that could be useful in this situation, but he was blanking out. All he could think about was the Spaniard's smiling face and light-hearted laugh, his weird rules and constant tone of worry for the weak little vault-dweller. And what had he done but give him something to worry about? Lovino spent the last few days striving to impress Antonio, so that he wouldn't think of Lovino as a little child anymore. And now he couldn't help but think that the thought was now enforced in Antonio's mind, that he was nothing but a child to be looked after. The thought made him angry. He was angry at these slavers for making him look weak, and he was angry at Antonio for thinking that he was weak.

Lovino Vargas was not helpless. He was not afraid, and he was definitely not weak. And he was going to prove it to everyone who ever thought he was.

Starting with the fiery young lass who dared to insult him buy purchasing him like he was an object to be dealt so easily. But first, he would need a plan.


Antonio


A two hour's boat ride from Radwater, the Mississippi river.

Antonio couldn't help but feel a little uneasy as they started off towards Washington DC on nothing more than Gilbert's hunch and the minimal evidence that the truck had left behind. He felt even more uneasy as Gilbert told him that Francis would not be accompanying them to the capital wasteland. Even if Francis wanted to come, it's not like he would have been able to. Gilbert was only able to weasel his way into getting passage for the two of them on this tiny ferry to DC. When Antonio asked him what he had done for even that much, he wrinkled his nose and avoided the question.

As for Francis, he would have refused this adventure anyways. The Frenchman seemed to have higher priorities these days, including a quiet, blond-haired soldier who showed up in Radwater that morning alongside an unbearably loud and undeniably American man. Apparently, Francis and Mathew, the quiet one, have some sort of history together, so Francis merely waved them off as he explained that he must stay behind. Gilbert said not to worry about it, but it only made Antonio feel even more out of the loop.

He sighed as he leaned over the railing of the ferry, gazing into the water below. The midday heat was hot on his back, and his dark clothing was blazing as it stuck to his skin. He gaze into the murky, rippling water below and thought about how cool it would feel on his body. He sunk to the ground, throwing his legs over the edge of the boat, his entire body fitting easily between the railing's posts. His feet didn't quite make it to the water, but if he reached his toe down, his leather boot would just skim across the river's surface and create its own little wake. This amused him for a few minutes until Gilbert sat himself beside the Spaniard.

"It's hot," He stated to his Prussian companion.

"Great observation, Sherlock." Gilbert flung his own legs towards the water.

"Gil, who's Sherlock? I've heard that name around, but..." Antonio cut off, unsure of how he should phrase his question. He knew Gilbert would understand.

The German's eyes softened as they focused on the water, thinking on something very carefully. "He was a detective. A really awesome one who could solve any crime ever."

"Even kidnappings?"

"Especially kidnappings." Gilbert met his green eyes with his own bright red ones, a snarky smile on his lips.

"Then let's hope I really am Sherlock."

"Ew, no. I wanna be Sherlock. You can be Watson, his totally not-as-awesome-as-he-is sidekick." Antonio shook his head at his friend's reply.

"Why do I have to be the sidekick?"

"Because I'm the cool one! And also, I'm older." Antonio felt a ping of nostalgia. Gilbert hasn't pulled that card for so long, where he used to use that excuse all the time. Antonio accepted his argument as he mused on the past, realizing that it was just him and Gilbert for the first time in a long while. He wondered if this escapade would be anything like the ones that they partook in before they even met Francis, before Gilbert felt responsibility for Ludwig and his grandfather, before anything, really.

No, Antonio thought better of it. This couldn't be like before. Before, he hadn't known Lovino. Before, he hadn't really had a purpose beside his own survival.

"Gilbert?"

"What."

"How can you be so sure that Lovino was captured by the Paradise Falls slavers?" Antonio professed his doubt for the first time. He couldn't afford to be looking in all of the wrong places. He couldn't afford to lose his Lovino.

Gilbert shrugged, which didn't help Antonio's anxiety. "I just have a feeling. Trust me on this."

Trust was all Gilbert really had going for him. There was no conclusive evidence of where Lovino was, so all the Spaniard could do was pray that he could rely on his closest friend.

"Besides, if he's really not there, then I think I know a guy who could tell us where else to look." Antonio lifted himself, unaware that he had been slouching. This reassurance was enough to make him smile.

"Really?"

"Yeah. You know him too, don't give me that face. You look stupid."

Antonio didn't know what he was talking about. This was literally just his regular face.

"You don't mean-"

"Yep."

"How do you know he'll still be there?"

Gilbert's eyes shifted away. "What makes you think he won't be?"

He had a good point. The person Gilbert was talking about was undoubtedly Alexandrei. He had a reputation in the capital wasteland... maybe even the whole country as someone who could help you get things done, for a price. Usually a very strange price, but a price none the less. But there's no way of knowing if he was still be where Antonio and Gilbert had left him.

"I don't know, Gil. This all seems pretty shifty."

"Hey, just trust me, okay? It's not like you had any better ideas."

Antonio shut his mouth as he realized that Gilbert was right. At least they were doing something, but why had Gilbert been so eager to tangle himself in this mess without a second thought? It seemed a little unlike Gilbert to put down everything and pull out all of the stops to help out a friend, so why was he putting himself through all of this for him? Antonio thought that maybe Gilbert didn't want to stay with Francis and get wrapped up in all of his drama, and the very idea made Antonio laugh.

Antonio's laugh was replaced with fear as the boat lurched suddenly. He reached for the railing, but it was too late. The ferry tipped sideways and launched him over the edge. He fell into the water head first as Gilbert tried to grab hold of his ankle, gripping it just before Antonio could fall completely into the water. However, he kicked free of Gilbert's grip when he realized that he couldn't turn himself around when he was being held onto like that. With a scream, his breath was lost as it rose past him to the surface. The Spaniard would have taken the time to relish the chilling water against his hit skin if he had not been filled with fear from a sudden realization. Something had to have tipped the boat, and he was in the water with it.

Antonio thrashed his arms as he tried to discern which way was up. Light filtered in from somewhere, but the water was so dense and murky that he couldn't see a thing. Water slid past him in waves and he hit something hard with his hand. He grabbed at the hard shape, assuming it was the ferry. Everything was blurry and his lungs were filling with water, causing him to cough and lose what little breath he had left. Something rubbery slammed into his side. Blood pumped in his ears as he panicked, the sensation of drowning was one of the most frightening things he had ever endured, sending fear into all parts of him. Still his arms thrashed for the surface, bubbles rushing by his ears and directing him to the air.

He reached the surface unexpectedly, coughing and sputtering, taking in as much breath as he could. His vision was still blurred and his eyes stung, but he could make out Gilbert's shape as he stood, shocked on the ferry a few feet away.

Water engulfed him again, much to the Spaniard's utter confusion and further terror. Something had a hold of him, and dragged him into the darkness of the muddy river. His limbs stilled as he ran out of power and pain stung his right ankle. The rubbery substance thrashed into his head as his struggle ceased, sending pain there as well, just to add to his aching lungs and searing ankle. Then he was calm, and the pain began to dissipate. He was conscious of what was happening. He'd had this feeling many times before.

Something let go of his ankle. Something took hold of his arm. Lovino, he needed to fight for his Lovino. His angry little Italian who tried so hard to shut him out, but only drew him in with every harsh word that flew from his lips. Because he'd seen those lips, he'd almost kissed those lips. He knew that those lips didn't want to hurt him. He knew it like no one else would ever know.

His Lovino, who's eyes were the most beautiful shade of hazel and his hair was the richest, darkest auburn that Antonio had ever seen. His naturally tan face fit perfectly between the locks of hair that framed it, and Antonio only wished that Lovino knew how much he thought of him, how perfect he was in his eyes. Antonio wanted to tell him exactly how breathtaking he was, how his voice hitched and his heart beat throughout every conversation they'd had. He wanted Lovino to be aware of how many times he's had to resist the urge to reach out and touch him, to brush the stray hairs away from his eyes, to feel his rough fingertips grazing Lovi's soft cheek.

His awareness was fuzzy as he faded out. It was becoming too hard to keep his thoughts on survival as more and more of the dirty water filled his lungs. He was being pulled somewhere, up, he hoped... he hoped...

Lovino...

Darkness.


Antonio came to his senses very slowly. His ankle hurt. His side hurt. His head hurt. The air was cool and the ground beneath him was hard. Antonio could hear the sound of thousands of crickets and frogs, the cacophony of night, but it wasn't near as loud as he would have expected. He let a low moan escape him as he tried, unsuccessfully, to sit up. Collapsing back to the hard floor, he decided that he should start by attempting to open his eyes.

He cracked one open, and then the other. He brought his hand up to rub his eyes, his head, his hair. It was dry. He felt for his clothes as well. His leather armor had been removed and his dark brown shirt was as dry as it would ever be, however, his back was still soggy where he had been laying against the ferryboat all day long. He must have been out for quite some time.

"Dammit, Antonio, it's about time." Gilbert's voice sounded from somewhere nearby. "I thought you were never going to wake up. Like, I literally thought you were never going to wake up."

Antonio let a smile form on his lips as he sat up, locating the source of Gilbert's voice. The Albino was sitting against the white structure rising from the floor of the ferry, where the owner of the boat was most likely hiding. He rested his arms on his knees and his head was against the wall.

"I had to get all wet to save you, ya know. I mean, it wasn't bad, it was actually refreshing, but that's beside the point. I also had to give you mouth-to-mouth. You totally owe me now."

Antonio tried not to laugh. It's not like they've never kissed before. "That's disappointing. You kissed me and I wasn't even awake for it," he jested.

"We can make out right now, and you could pay off your dept. I won't even charge interest." The German's smile betrayed the humor in his repartee.

"You tempt me, Gilbert. How could I refuse a deal like that?"

"You can't, that's the point."

Antonio rolled his eyes with a stupid grin on his face. He couldn't believe what he had just survived. Maybe this wouldn't be too different from the good old days after all.

"Hey Gil, what was it that pulled me under?"

Gilbert's smile widened tenfold. "Oh my god, Antonio, if only you had seen this thing. It was huge, like, almost the size of this boat. It was grey and had this super long neck and these fins and ridges on its back! It reared up out of the water and hissed like this, with its fins flaring out like it was some sort of boss ass bitch."

Gilbert stood up and used his hands to portray gills on the side of the monster's neck and acted out it how the scene must have looked.

"So naturally, I had to put it in its place." He looked so confident and pleased with himself.

"And how did you do that?"

"I shot it."

Of course Gilbert shot it. What was he expecting?

Wait a second. Antonio reached his hand behind his back in the millisecond that he realized.

"Where's my rifle?" He could feel it as the blood drained from his face. Rifles were hard to come by these days.

Gilbert's faltering smile did not reassure him. "About that..." He rubbed the back of his neck and sent Antonio a sympathetic look.

"Mierda..."

"It'll be fine. You can borrow mine if you need it."

"Then what would you use?"

"We'll figure it out."

Antonio groaned. He really liked that rifle, it was a little bit heartbreaking to know that he'll never see it again. He imagined it sitting in the bottom of the river forever.

Antonio fell backwards onto the ground in his original position. The fabric of his shirt still held on to a bit of moisture, so it was nice and cool against his back as it came into contact with the floor. He observed the night sky, the first few stars having already made their debut while he was passed out. Now, the dark sky was beginning to flesh out into the nighttime expanse that Antonio had always really enjoyed. He remembered when Lovino first caught sight of it- oh, the look in his eyes and the smile that just tugged at his lips.

The memory made Antonio smile, but it quickly downturned at the thought of Lovino staring up at the same exact sky, if his captor even gave him that simple pleasure. How scared he must be, how alone and confused he must feel. He was so fragile, Lovino was. So closed off, insecure, and unsure of his own actions. Antonio watched as the Italian tried his damnedest to hide it from him, but Antonio knew. Antonio could see it in him, the uncertainty in his hazel eyes, the way he would avert his gaze whenever their eyes met. He noticed when Lovino would purposefully keep his eyes away from his, and he knew that Lovi would stare when he thought that no one could see him. He thought that Antonio didn't notice those little things- the curious stares and reddened cheeks- but he did. He could see it all.

Antonio let the smile return to his lips. There was no question about it, he was going to find his beloved Italian vault-dweller, even if it took him the rest of his life. Because he knew that if he was going to feel this way for the rest of his life, then how could he possibly dream of carrying on without his beautiful, luminous, perfect Lovino.