Credo

The tenth offence

XXX

Feliciano is a shaking bundle of nerves when they finally get off the horse over in the eastern countryside of Rome. Lovino's not quite as worn, but it's a close call - one or two of the guards had followed them on horseback, and it had taken a long detour and some tricky maneuvering through the streets for them to arrive safely near the aqueduct. His sides hurt a little from how hard Feliciano had been holding on, and he's surprisingly out-of-breath from the chase, but they're alive. They're alive, and Antonio is going to meet them later, and everything's gonna be okay.

"Lovi - "

Feliciano reaches out, and in the protective shade of a nearby building his brother helps him slide off of the horse's back. "We're okay," he says. "We're here, we're alive, and we're safe. It's okay."

"A-are you used to doing this?" Feliciano asks softly as Lovino supports him around the corner of the house to the door. He doesn't specify what Lovino might be used to, but he can make a pretty good guess.

"What, killing motherfuckers and running all around the city while having you to worry about?" he jokes back. "Nope! First time for everything."

Lovino knocks on the door rapidly. No response, so he pounds again, a little harder. Feliciano is still shaking like a leaf against his side, and Lovino feels the exhaustion suddenly hitting him like an axe to the face. "Dammit Yao, open up!" he yells. "Open the fucking door!"

A moment later, a familiar face opens up the door. The foreigner's eyes grow wide in recognition, and a smile appears as he yells back into the house in... well, whatever the hell language he speaks.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

Another, younger man from the Orient appears... Yao's younger brother, maybe? The two of them look sort of alike, although his hair is shorter and a bit more unruly. He has an unusually blank sort of face, but he quirks an eyebrow at the two visitors at the door. "You need help."

It wasn't a question, and Lovino pushes the door open wider with a small groan. "Oh, so now someone around here can speak fucking Italian - where the hell were you in May?"

The new guy turns and exchanges a couple words with Yao before shrugging. "Out of town. Such is the life of merchants by trade... But please. Come in and we'll look at - " He glances at the limp Feliciano has. " - at his leg."

Brief and to the fucking point - Lovino kinda likes this guy. Or, at least, he doesn't dislike him instantly. "Okay, Feli," he says as he picks his brother up again. "I got you."

Feliciano holds tight, like he never plans on letting go.

Because Feliciano doesn't have a fucked up back or head, he and Lovino can share a bed upstairs, as long as they don't kick one another in their sleep. (And Lovino is sleeping, strangely enough. His insomnia seems to have left for now, and he isn't complaining.) Nothing is broken or irreparable, according to the new guy, Leon (who does happen to be Yao's younger half-brother). However, the muscles in Feliciano's leg are highly bruised and weak. Leon and Yao have Lovino putting hot rags on the worst areas a bunch of times in a day, and Leon tells Feliciano to stay in bed all the time unless he has to take a piss.

"Ve, it feels better already!" the Italian chirps on the second evening after their arrival, shifting around the mattress.

"Don't push your luck," Lovino warns, his lip curving slightly upward. "Your leg sure the hell isn't gonna get better if you move around too much, especially at first."

Feliciano smiles, but there's something fake about it. "I... I know."

His brother just stares for a moment before sitting down on the bed and shifting Feliciano's head into his lap. "It's okay to be upset that you're stuck in bed," he mumbles. "You were kept in a prison cell for two years... I don't fucking blame you for feeling cooped up."

And Feliciano breathes a little easier at that. "W-well, I wasn't stuck in a cell for two whole years - just for a few weeks toward the end. But that was enough."

Lovino frowns. "Wait, you weren't a prisoner the whole time after...? Then what were you doing?"

It takes some effort for Feliciano to get it out, with his lips opening and tightly shutting, before he finally admits, "I was a coward, Lovi. They meant to kill me that night wh-when they killed grandfather, but I begged and begged their captain to let me live and convinced him that I could be useful."

And Lovino just stares. "Useful? Useful doing what?"

"I wanted to draw for them," he says with a nervous swallow. "They laughed at me, but that captain dragged me out of the massacre and had two guards take me to the castle to show him and - and they actually let me live. I - I was an assistant to copy plans, and they gave me descriptions to draw wanted posters for criminals, and sometimes I - "

"You drew wanted posters?"

He shoves Feliciano's head off of his lap, and his brother gives a small "Oomph!" as Lovino stands and whirls around to lean over him.

"You drew those shitty posters of me?!"

Feliciano's eyes are impossibly wide and it doesn't look like he can fucking breathe. "Y-yes? I-is that okay?"

For a moment, Lovino does nothing. Then, he pounces and mercilessly attacks his brother's sides with his fingers.

Feliciano screams and laughs and screams some more. "STOP! - don't tickle me - AAH - !"

"You," Lovino raves, "are fucking brilliant! You drew those shitty posters of me!"

"I - I'm brilliant? Ah! STOP!" he shrieks. "LOVINOOOO!"

So Lovino stops, and he traps his brother by putting his hands on Feliciano's chest and setting his chin on top of them with the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever given anyone. He lets Feliciano have a minute to regulate his breathing, and then Lovino says, "You gave me some fucking awful noses that I cursed to hell and back, you brilliant idiot!"

And Feliciano laughs again, a real and genuine one this time. "O-of course I did! I didn't want them to catch you!"

And Lovino raises his head again and moves up the mattress to sit next to his brother. Feliciano curls his neck so they're in a position like before, with Feliciano resting against Lovino's thigh and Lovino's hand halfway draped around Feliciano's shoulder and chest.

"I did that for two years," Feliciano says softly.

Lovino looks down, and his younger brother seems to be serious again. He wasn't ever so serious before he'd - well, before their house had burnt down. This change in personality is jarring, but, then again, Lovino doesn't know what the fuck else he would have been expecting.

"And then," Feliciano continues, "I didn't want to do it anymore. I'd been a coward, just looking out for a way to stay alive, a-and it'd been working. They fed me alright, and they didn't hurt me because I was useful and worked hard, and I got to live in a room with a real bed and a window... But - " he breathes, " - but I d-didn't like it. I knew I was doing the wrong thing, by helping the men who wanted to kill you, because I was a coward, so eventually I..."

He trails off, and Lovino just runs his hand through his brother's hair.

"I took a page out of your book," Feliciano says, a small smile coming onto his face, "and I a-actually told them to their faces that they could go fuck themselves."

Lovino lets out an awkwardly genuine laugh... but he also moves his hand, because he doesn't want to clench his brother's lovely auburn hair in the fist he knows he's on the verge of making.

"That's when they - they put me in the cell where you found me. They stopped feeding me every day, and one captain with a lot of scars hurt me whenever he saw me," he whimpers. "It was really bad for the first week, but then the really mean man was killed, I guess, and the new guard with the key was nicer to me."

A captain with a lot of scars? Lovino stiffens. "Oh my God."

"Ve?" Feliciano looks up at him. "What is it?"

"...Nothing important," he mutters. "I just realized something - but Feliciano, promise me that you won't do anything stupid to put your safety in jeopardy again."

His face brightens. "I will! But... Lovi?"

"Yeah?"

"C-can you promise me," Feliciano breathes, "that you're not gonna leave me? I mean - I don't want to be alone like I was ever again."

So Lovino closes his eyes for a second and pictures them - him and Feliciano - together somewhere far away from iron bars and guards and underground wars, and he nods. "I promise."

It's been four days, and Antonio hasn't shown the fuck up.

He'd promised two. He'd said maybe three at the absolute maximum. Just when Lovino was getting used to sleeping again, he has to pull this shit and leave the Italian tossing and turning and scouring the rooftops from the nearest window. That asshole. Where the fuck is he?

"I oughtta go out looking," Lovino snaps at nobody in particular. He's about to wear a groove in the floor with all the pacing he's doing. God dammit, Antonio, where the hell are you?

"But that means leaving me here," Feliciano says, biting his lip and sitting upright in the bed. "Ve, we both wanna find out what's happened to him, but what if some guards come to the house?"

"You'll be fine," he groans back. "If they haven't found us here yet, then they never fucking will. I mean, I know why you're paranoid, because I'm paranoid too, but dammit, this is ridiculous!"

Feliciano just pouts back and leans further into the pillows.

Lovino walks for a minute more, back and forth and back and forth, until he suddenly stops. "I guess I could sneak around and kill someone for information," he muses. "That'd be pretty quick."

His brother bolts right up. "Don't! I don't like the thought of you killing people!"

Lovino throws his hands up in the air and wants to scream. "Then what the fuck am I supposed to do? - Fine, you know what? LEON!"

A moment after he bellows, he hears footsteps walking up the creaky staircase and the doorknob turning. "Do you mind?" Leon peers in with a frown.

Right. Ignoring that. "Can you use a gun?" Lovino asks, drawing his firearm out from his weapons stash under the foot of the bed.

Leon's eyes light up. "I learned once, when a man tried to sell his to us - is that real?"

"Lovi!" Feliciano shrieks, drawing up the sheets like a protective wall. "Why do you have that thing?"

"To protect you, dumbass!" He turns to Leon in the doorway. He hadn't actually expected Yes for an answer... Huh. That solves a lot of problems. "Damn right it's real. Do you promise to use it if I go out and any trouble happens here?"

"Of course. And if trouble doesn't happen?" He's practically salivating over the thing. It's sort of pathetic and funny, actually.

Lovino looks at it and shrugs. "I have extra bullets and gunpowder. I could shoot it with you later if you have an itch."

"Deal." Before Lovino can even move, Leon has already leaped on him to hold it, studying its curves and mechanics with acute fascination. "It's beautiful."

The assassin snorts, backing away and giving them some room. "I guess you like guns?"

"Well... Explosions and gunpowder, really." He examines the barrel and trigger, grinning to himself. "I once blew up an abandoned house for fun. Yao wasn't very happy with me for that."

Actually figuring out how to blow up a house? That's fucking impressive, Lovino has to admit. "It's not loaded right now, but the powder and bullets are under the bed. Be fucking careful with that thing." Lovino throws on his cloak and walks to the bed to squeeze Feliciano's hand.

"You have to," his brother whines, "don't you?"

He doesn't answer that directly, because they both know the truth.

"I'll be back," he promises as he throws up his hood.

No signs of Antonio.

It's not like Lovino just looks around the city randomly, either. He checks the ruins where they used to meet, the building in the wealthy area of Rome where they'd danced, the Colosseum where he'd made Antonio climb with a blindfold, and all the nooks and crannies where a son of a bitch like him would choose to hide. Nothing. He finds nothing, and now the entire day has passed.

God. Damn. It. He kicks a rock across a road in the dim light and sneers at nothing at all. He's just finished looking through the ruins of the old city with no luck. There aren't even any guards nearby to kill, dammit, just a herald to preach the news to the people. Bastard's useless but not worth the trouble. Hell. Shit. Fuck. Now what? Where else can he look?

He goes over to a bench, near the small crowd listening to the news. He hears the drone of the herald's voice in the back of his mind as he ignores that feeling of desperation building in his stomach and tries, one last time, to think of a hiding spot for Antonio. There's been a syphilis outbreak, and he can't think of anywhere in the slums to check. There's a contest for some duke in fucking Venice with a ton of prize money, and he can't think of anywhere in the countryside for Antonio to hide. There's a bullshit announcement from the Pope about something church-related, and there's no place to go undercover in the Vatican dammit. Some bastard traitor is going to be publicly executed next week for pulling off some shit at Castel Sant'Angelo, and Lovino can't -

- Help it as his head snaps up and out of concentration while his mind stops working entirely.

Mother. Fucker.

He doesn't even give a shit as he barges into the thief hideout-inn with the biggest fucking sneer on his face, because dammit he is pissed and doesn't care who the fuck notices. And people notice, for sure; they all turn in his direction and immediately look like every bad thing they've ever fucked up has crossed their minds.

Except, that is, for the one fucker Lovino is there to talk to.

"I'm guessing you just heard the news about Carriedo," Vash says, leaning back against his seat.

Lovino doesn't even ask how the fuck he already knows that and why the fuck he didn't tell him. He doesn't give a shit anymore, frankly. He slams his hands down on the table and fucking glares. "What the fuck do you know about it that they didn't announce?" he demands in a low hiss. Vash raises a blond eyebrow, and Lovino elaborates, "Don't fucking pretend that you don't know a fucking thing, because this is you we're talking about, and you're a fucking control freak."

"...If you were any less pissed off," Vash begins dryly, "I'd either be terribly amused or sarcastic in my response. But - " He holds up a finger to stop Lovino from a smart retort. "But you mean business." He downs the mug in his hand and stands. "Fine. Let's go to the roof."

So Lovino backs off. They exit, and before they've even fully pulled themselves over the top of the building Vash says, "Carriedo never made it out of Castel Sant'Angelo."

"God fucking dammit! That dumbass!" Lovino stands on the flat roof and, God dammit, can't find anything to throw in the evening darkness. "Did he even fucking try to get the fuck out of there?"

Vash just leans against the adjacent wall of a taller building. "Considering that he blew something up? Probably not. I'd say his chances of ever escaping were next to nothing, and even then I'm assuming that he's smarter than you make him sound."

"He didn't even say he'd been planning on blowing shit up, that motherfucking - "

"You don't get it," the assassin interrupts. "Regardless of what Carriedo probably told you - he said he'd meet up with you, didn't he? I've never met him personally, but I'm sure he knew. He knew that he wasn't going to get out, but he was prepared to say anything to make sure you and your brother left safely."

Fuck, Vash even knows about Feliciano? "You had no idea that my brother was in prison there, did you?" Lovino growls. If Vash were to have known, then shit is going down -

To his credit, Vash remains unimpressed. "Relax, Lovino. I have a little sister of my own. While it's true, I might take advantage of emotionally-charged teenagers if we have a mutual enemy, I'm not a manipulative bastard who'd hide a secret like that."

Lovino breathes in and out, evenly and slowly. "God. Okay, fine... So now they're publicly executing Antonio for treason. Fuck."

"I hear they're still deciding how to do it." Vash brushes something off his sleeve. "There's one executioner in Rome who can do both hangings and beheadings, and he seems to have a suspicious commitment currently on that date. There's also a rumor that the Borgia family is favoring one method over the other."

"Which one?"

"Hanging. And - " Vash drops his calm facade for a moment and actually cringes. " - the rumors say they want the knot done improperly."

Lovino's mouth slides open. Holy fucking shit. Getting hanged takes long enough, but a good knot means the victim's neck is broken when he falls. If they purposely use a bad knot, and Antonio's neck doesn't break, then he'll struggle and suffocate for even longer - holy shit. Holy fucking shit that's an awful thing to do. "Those... those bastards," he chokes out.

"It's not going to be pretty," Vash says, crossing his arms. "And... I suppose I might as well say this now. That's why I need you there."

"You - wait, what?" He blinks. "You need me to be there?"

"One source says," Vash elaborates with a scary gleam in his eyes, "that Cesare Borgia is coming to town and attending."

Lovino's throat is dry. Holy shit. Cesare Borgia is The Big One, the one whose death would solve a fuckton of problems. Rodrigo Borgia might be a pope, but his son Cesare is pulling a lot of the strings behind the curtain. "And - and you want me to go for the kill?" he breathes.

Vash smiles, just a little. "Absolutely. Kill him, cause chaos - whatever you see fit."

Whatever he sees fit? All the thoughts whirling around in his head stop. That means that he can... Holy shit, Vash is giving him a free excuse to - "Fuck yes!" Lovino exclaims. "I knew there was a good reason I put up with your shit, you clever son of a bitch!"

Vash smiles a little wider and shrugs. "Careful with the mother insults, Lovino. You haven't saved the day quite yet."

Lovino strides back into the inn with a less pissy attitude a scary glint in his eye. A lot of the patrons still stare at him and make split-second oh shit faces, but he doesn't give a damn or pay them any attention.

The sleepy man behind the counter looks up with vague interest. "Can I... help you?"

"Well, I'm not actually... Hey." Lovino looks him over. "Don't I know you?"

That gets the bartender's attention. He glances over Lovino as well before his tired eyes widen just a little bit. "Yeah... I've seen you around before. By the western gate of the city?"

Why the fuck was he - oh, yeah. "Ercole, right?" Lovino tries. "Or is it Hercules?"

"Close. Heracles - the Greek version of that name." Heracles leans on the counter with his forearms and asks again, "Can I help you?"

Lovino pulls out a small bag. "Whoop-dee-fucking-doo, it's your lucky day. I'm here to pay off my tab."

"Ah... Anything to drink?" he asks with a knowing expression.

"Not now," Lovino says. "There's a gentleman I have to meet."

"Then have a... pleasant night."

Heracles takes his money through a door behind the bar, and Lovino turns around and exits with a smirk.

The thieves and assassins in Rome have a lot of overlap when it comes to their codes and conduct, and the phrase three places, same time is one of those. It's easy enough to both pay for a job and slip them a note at the same time, but the response he gets for this one is unbelievably quick. Lovino doesn't even have to sit on top of the church for five minutes before two other figures climb up and join him. He doesn't recognize either of them, but this doesn't perturb him much since they're also wearing hoods and aren't extremely visible in the moonlight.

"Well," Lovino says dryly, "two of you make for quite the welcoming party."

"Do you know how much money you put in that bag?" the left figure, the larger of the two, blanches. "Shit, you really must want a favor."

"Nothing too much out of the fucking norm," he tosses back. "But I have to make sure it's done well and right - we've got lives at stake here."

Leftie seems to think about this a bit before nodding. "After saving Heracles? Hell, we probably owe you one of those for free anyway."

"Keep the damn change," the assassin says with pursed lips. "It doesn't matter to me."

The two thieves look at each other and turn back toward Lovino. "You must want something big," Leftie says with a low whistle.

"I wanna meet your boss," he counters bluntly. "I've been sidelining your place for two damn years and never seen him."

"Meet the boss? Awesome!" the one barks. "It's your lucky day then!"

Leftie takes off his hood; Lovino doesn't know what he'd been expecting, but snow-white skin and hair coupled with red eyes so bright they glow was definitely not it. "Holy shit," he accidentally lets out. "So you are albino."

"There's a reason I don't hang around the front of the inn very often," he replies with an eye roll. "But I get shit done and the guys like me, and that's what counts."

Lovino takes off his own hood. "Hey, nobody can give a shit if your system works pretty damn well." He extends a hand. "Lovino Vargas."

"Gilbert Bielschmidt." Gilbert takes the hand and grins. "Your nose isn't as ugly as I expected. Who the hell drew those posters of you?"

The assassin snorts. "I have a great story about that, but we need to talk about fucking shit up first. Can your men infiltrate a crowd and make them anxious?"

"Anxious, rowdy, whatever you want," Gilbert counters.

"Anyone you have familiar with explosives?"

"One or two guys. Help of your own would be preferred on that one, depending on what you're asking for."

Lovino thinks back to his conversation with Leon. That kid'd probably be useful in a pinch. "An archer?"

"Crossbowman? Yeah, we got - "

"No. An archer."

"An archer?" Gilbert looks slightly confused. "Why the hell would you want an archer? Is a crossbow not good enough for you?"

"Crossbow is too good," he argues. "What I'm thinking of has to be done with extreme precision, using a fucking bow and arrow."

Gilbert opens his mouth, but before he can say anything the other, smaller figure next to him has moved a step forward. "I can do it."

Lovino stares for a second before it clicks. The second thief has a petite frame, and it's coupled with a higher voice - and those clothes fit strangely in different places... "Good God, you're a woman."

She groans and pulls her hood down, causing a messy, dirty-blonde braid to cascade out. Rightfully, she glares. "I was taught to fight by the finest warrior in all of Hungary and can shoot the flame off of a candle from a damn impressive distance. But sorry, is my gender a problem?" she sneers.

Gilbert rolls his eyes again, and Lovino holds out his hands in a placating gesture. "No no no, that's not a problem. I was just caught waaaaay the fuck off-guard." Women assassins and women thieves aren't exactly commonplace, after all. But hey, it isn't exactly common to run into young thieves and assassins who haven't even turned twenty years old, so who is Lovino to judge?

Gilbert sighs, slightly annoyed, and steps slightly more forward in front of his companion. "Yeah, Elizaveta can shoot a bow. Remember that before you piss her off." He pauses. "Enlighten me. What the fuck is going down with explosives, a crowd, and some arrows?"

Lovino smirks back at him with crossed arms. "We're simultaneously terrorizing the guard, assassinating Cesare Borgia, and causing a hell of a lot of chaos." He pauses. "And probably rescuing a bastard idiot in the process."

And Gilbert, like any manipulative bastard would in his position, grins like a madman. "Awesome."

XXX

Notes: Between Wang Jia Long and Li Xiao Chun as names for Hong Kong, I just went with his English name Leon instead (because I'm lazy, and that's less confusing for most people). Also, I remember reading someplace that he has a thing for fireworks/explosives... so here we are.

Go Lovino and Gilbert, the kinda-sorta/ahead of the times feminists! And go Elizaveta, the WAY ahead of the times woman who does whatever the heck she wants! Because seriously, we're all pretty aware that women either got married and popped out babies or spent their whole lives in convents as nuns during this era. Right?

(Pretty sure there've been more than ten offences committed in this fic, but who the heck wants to bother counting them all for the sake of a chapter title?)

And sorry that this chapter didn't come out sooner. I had to take a few steps back and look at the whole fic before deciding I was happy with this one. But hey, we're getting closer and closer to the end - stuff's gonna go down, and soon.

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