I'm updating a day early 'cause my internet is acting screwy again. Chapter eleven may also be up today, just as a little gift (I'm too impatient is the real reason why. XD)

…I'm terribly sorry, but as much as I try, I cannot make myself make Ivan a bad guy in this. Originally in this chapter, there was going to be a part which involved Matthew punching him in the face for bringing up Jeanne in a way he thought was Ivan trying to insult her, but it conflicts a later idea, so I dropped it. I might write the part out in an omake at the end of the fic or something, but no more bad-guy Ivan. Maybe.

Stupid head canon!

Also… you guys are going to hate me. But remember! It's not Alleluia without the angst!

Chapter 10-

Thanksgiving had always been quite the harrowing experience. Francis and Arthur would argue about who would fix the turkey (Francis always won, after Lovino voiced his opinion on the matter, even if he thought Francis was a creeper after last year's Christmas incident). Antonio would fix churros and tacos- who was to say you only had to eat turkey, cranberries, stuffing, and apple pie on Thanksgiving?- and Matthew monitored Arthur's cooking to make sure he didn't accidentally poison it. Even so, only Alfred ate what his father fixed.

Alfred had a stomach of steel, that was for sure.

Lars and Alice had spent their Thanksgivings with them for years now, bringing over assorted pies and other desserts. The siblings were just as much family as anyone else, and it wouldn't be a holiday without Lars' silent threats and glares directed at Antonio and Alice's playful flirting with Lovino to keep him a lovely shade of red during dinner.

Once the food was prepared and Antonio had convinced Francis and Arthur to stop arguing for a moment, they crowded around Antonio and Lovino's dining table (they rotated between apartments each year).

"Alrighty, who's going to say the blessing so we can pig out?" Alfred anxiously burst.

Arthur scowled at him and elbowed his arm. "Be respectful when you talk about the blessing! Honestly…."

"How about I do it since we're with me this time?" Antonio offered. When there were no complaints voiced, he bowed his head. "Heavenly Father, we thank You for us to be able to spend this day and meal together again. We ask that You bless the meal prepared and those who prepared it for us. And most of all, we pray that you watch over our families wherever they are today, and pray that they have a meal as great as ours. We thank you Lord, in Jesus' name."

"Amen," everyone ended.

Alfred immediately grabbed for the turkey. "I call one of the legs!" he shouted, practically smacking Arthur's hand away.

"Don't reach across the table like that! Were you raised in a barn or something?"

"He was raised by a tasteless pig who burnt the rolls!"

"THAT IS IT, FRANCIS BONNEFOY!"

"NO ONE BURNS THE BAKED GOODS AND LIVES!"

And Thanksgiving was as peaceful as always.

((((()))))

The Thanksgiving week of snow had been far too long for Lovino. However, he wouldn't have minded if he had been trapped inside the apartment complex a little longer- so long as he was inside and in front of a heater, huddled together in the corner of the living room with Antonio. Matthew and Alfred had spent as much time as possible outside for the rest of their Thanksgiving break, massacring each other with balls of snowy death from what little snow was left after the storm, while Francis went shopping (read: went to Wal-Mart to flirt with ladies) and Arthur cleaned some more. The Englishman had even come knocking on the Carriedo's door, offering his services as a cleaning maid because he was so bored being locked up inside.

On Sunday, Lovino's hopes of crouching next to the wonderful heater for another day plummeted with the announcement of school on two hour delay. There was still a foot of snow out there- who would honestly be stupid enough to ride to school in that?

"Lovino, it's not a foot," Matthew quietly sighed, turning up the heat in Francis's car. "I don't think there's even an inch out there now. All the roads are shoveled and it's not supposed to snow anymore until next week."

"Sh-sh-shut u-u-up," he stuttered in reply, shivering in the back seat with Alfred, texting everyone who attended Heta High that he would arrive soon, and not for them to fear.

And here Lovino thought Gilbert was conceited.

The heating system was a complete failure of life. Lovino was sure he would die of hypothermia before the car finally warmed up enough to keep him thawed- but before the temperature had even reached the positive digits again, they were already parking and shuffling outside.

"Put on your ear muffs!" a stern voice called from across the street, concern lacing through every word. "And pull your coat closer! You did bring your scarf, didn't you, Lili?"

"Yes, Vati," the small girl replied, hurrying through the street over to the school. "I'll see you and Mutti later!"

"Vati" still frowned, unconvinced that she would be alright. However, he merely sighed and waved her off, turning back to his house. There was something about him, Alfred knew. Something that tugged at the very recesses of his mind, taking him back in time. That blonde man… something about Switzerland…? What was it….

Alfred hissed when a migraine erupted. "A-ah, are you okay, Alfred?" Matthew worriedly chirped, catching his wince.

The brunette shrugged away his worry with a flawless white smile. "I'm alright. Besides- KIKU!" Alfred suddenly yelled, his nonexistent ADD kicking in when the Asian came into his view. "Dude, Kiku, you totally gotta come with me and Mattie next time we snow-fight! You can be on Lovino's team!"

The Italian normally would have blown up at this, yelling at him to shut up; reminding him again that he absolutely hated the snow, the cold, and, most of all, snowball wars. However, he merely cast him a withering glare before turning to talk to Lili, bundled so thick in her mint green parka that it made her look about Alfred's size.

Matthew softly smiled as Alfred and Lovino went their separate ways- Alfred finally leaving Kiku alone to go hang with Ludwig (who always blocked out his teammate's bad jokes and general annoyingness by reading a book) and Lovino to sit with Lili and Alice. Matthew would probably escape to the library or spend the morning before first period with Francis, helping him grade papers and such. That was what he had been doing all year, and he wasn't about to change his routine now.

"Matthew!"

Except before, he didn't have Ivan Braginski to call him over to sit with him, Toris, and Eduard, both of whom had a bit of a forced friendship with the Russian. Matthew had found it funny, how Toris forced Eduard to put up with Ivan like he did. Toris was just friends with him to be nice. Everyone knew it.

The blonde offered them a nervous smile, setting down his backpack beside him on the gym bleachers. "Um, good morning."

None of them were big on making conversation, let alone small talk. Matthew contributed Eduard's silence to the awkwardness of sitting with Ivan, who was smiling overly-cheerfully again. His smile even made Matthew a little uneasy, but he merely picked at the frayed ends of his hoodie's sleeves instead of wondering why he was so happy. Matthew didn't pry in people's business like Alfred.

"So…," Toris weakly started, putting on a nervous smile, "you guys have fun over the weekend?"

((((()))))

The only good part of Lovino's day was lunch- even if it was the last lunch of the day and they never offered tomatoes unless they were serving sandwiches. He sat in the back of the cafeteria, up against the windows, shivering. But, almost as if it were some sacred law, no one left their chosen spot in the cafeteria. So the Italian quietly suffered in frozen agony.

Alfred showed up next, his boisterous laugh alerting everyone in the cafeteria that the hero had arrived. Matthew, whom Lovino didn't even notice at first, was trailing behind him as usual. They joined his miserable self- Alfred providing more conversation than Lovino and Matthew could bother with. Lili came last, daintily carrying over a lunch of different cheese delicacies. Lovino noticed with a start that she was paler than usual.

Before he could ask if she was alright, Alfred stole her attention by unleashing a bombard of questions about her father. "He was your dad, right? He isn't a doctor or anything is he?"

Lili shook her head- slower than usual, Lovino and Matthew noticed. "My mother is a doctor. Vati is the chief of police."

"Oh…," Alfred said, deflating instantly. "I can't help but think I've met him somewhere, though…."

Lili shrugged her thin shoulders. "Maybe you've seen him at the store?" she quietly guessed after coughing into the crook of her arm. The cough seemed to wrack her whole body.

"Hey… are you okay?" Lovino asked when she coughed again, this time into her hands. The look of terror on her face when she pulled back told him that no, she was not alright. Lili cried out in surprise at the blood on her shaking hands. Alfred instantly picked her up and ran off towards the hallway. Lovino and Matthew bolted after him, running for the nurse. Lili's body shook with more coughs, blood spitting out on Alfred's shirt. He quieted her attempts at an apology, jogging up the stairs. Good thing I'm a ripped football player, Alfred inwardly congratulated himself. But when Lili's eyes drooped shut, her face even more pale, he picked up speed, leaving Lovino and Matthew huffing in the distance.

"NURSE!" Alfred screeched, skidding to a stop outside the nurse's office. Befuddled teachers poked their head out of the doors to see what the commotion was about. Students followed their examples when they each gasped.

Francis Bonnefoy, however, didn't calm his class and resume the lesson where it left off. "W-work on pages 50 and 51!" he called before rushing out.

Alfred charged into the office, laying Lili down. Blood darkened the front of her dress and chin, dark maroon contrasting against her porcelain face. "Go to the office and call her parents," the nurse instructed, instantly setting to try and revive her while calling for an ambulance.

"O-okay," Alfred stuttered. He met Francis at the door. "Lili Zwingli," he explained, zooming back downstairs. "She fainted in lunch. Mattie'll be here in- Geez!" Alfred burst when Matthew and Lovino finally caught up. "What the heck took you guys so long?"

"W-we're not freaking Michael Phelps like you are," Lovino panted. He pushed past them to check on Lili, ignoring the nurse's curt "Get out!"

Matthew turned back to Alfred, but the brunette was already gone. The blonde looked up at his father when he put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go get their stuff. I'll call Arthur or Antonio to come and pick you all up."

"O-Oui," Matthew quietly whispered, the overwhelming shock of the sudden turn of events reverting him to French. He stiffly, slowly, turned to walk back downstairs to the no-doubt frenzied cafeteria. Matthew and Francis could hear the commotion from the end of the hall. Several other teachers were yelling for the students to calm down, telling them that the problem would be resolved shortly, and that everything was alright.

Francis snorted as he walked past the other teachers to Mattie's table. "You're acting like there's been a shooting," he said. "An ambulance is coming to pick her up."

A crowd had gathered around Matthew when Francis turned back. Francis pushed his way through the students, everyone of them demanding to be told the details of what had just occurred. They ignored them, retrieving the forgotten books and Lili's purse, before escaping back upstairs.

Francis ignored his student's questions, telling Matthew to sit down at his desk. The boy silently obeyed, his face blank and eyes troubled. Francis frowned, but didn't press him to explain what was wrong. Matthew, such an innocent, caring boy, was obviously in shock. Francis was beginning to think bringing him back to class was a bad idea, but Matthew let out a haggard sigh and dropped his face into his arms on the desk.

"Alright," Francis addressed his students, "everyone hand in your work. I trust you were doing that instead of talking?"

((((()))))

Alfred had appeared at the door shortly after that, finally looking tired after all the running he had done. So as not to further disrupt Francis's class, he silently went to sit beside Matthew, patting his shoulder and assuring him everything was fine, and that Lovino had already gotten a brief, curt explanation from the nurse before the paramedics had come to pick Lili up.

Apparently, she had been diagnosed with cancer over the summer.

((((()))))

"I can't believe they wouldn't let me go with her," Lovino muttered, forcing his sorry self upstairs. Alfred and Matthew had already escaped into the safe confines of the Kirkland residence with Arthur, who had come to check them out of school, Alfred no doubt feeding Matthew nonsense about sunshine and rainbows and how the world really wasn't as awful as everyone thought it was.

Sometimes he could be so stupid.

Lovino let himself in with his key- Antonio was probably sleeping after a hard day at the farm shoveling snow off of the dirt road (a favor he did every year). It was hard work, so Lovino figured he'd let the bum sleep and eat dinner alone.

But, much to his surprise, when Lovino walked in, he found Antonio talking on the phone. His hair was a mess and he was in his pajamas, so he must've just woken up. Antonio was letting the person on the other end speak a lot- also confusing, because Antonio liked to ramble needlessly to whomever had the guts to call him. He didn't notice right away when Lovino came inside. Another sign that something was up. Lovino quietly took off his coat at the front door, trying to overhear the conversation. He was speaking to a woman that vaguely sounded familiar to him, but it was too old for the girls at the farm and too young to be Abuela Fernandez-Carriedo.

"…Alright, when he gets back, I'll…. Oh! Lovino! When did you come in?" Antonio finally noticed, turning around. "Everything's alright about that girl, isn't it?"

Lovino was struck into silence. Antonio was… crying. But, he never cried. Never. Not during the divorce, not at Jeanne's funeral. Antonio smiled when no one else would. He was everyone's ray of sunshine- their sunny Spain. "Wh-what's wrong?" Lovino stuttered. He could tell him about Lili later. Wordlessly, Antonio handed him the phone. "H-hello? Who is this?"

When I thought today couldn't get worse….

"Lovino," the woman breathed.

Antonio rubbed his shoulder, then quietly excused himself.

Lovino almost dropped the phone. That voice… he hadn't heard it in ten years. Not since… not since the divorce. "…Mamma?"

"Sì, l'amore, sì. E 'la tua mamma," Aria said. Lovino could hear the sad smile in her words. She seemed so genuinely happy to hear from him. Hard to believe, when most of his memories of her consisted of her ignoring him and yelling at Antonio for stupid things. "Antonio said something about a girl- don't tell me my little man has a girlfriend."

A blush creeped over his cheeks. "Sh-shut up! She is not my girlfriend! It-It's not like that," he ended awkwardly, just knowing she was going to take it wrong. He was right, of course. Aria offered him a chuckle. "But anyway, what'd you do to make Papá cry? Good Lord, don't tell me you're planning on getting back together with him-"

"No!" she burst, aghast. "No, no, no. I'm engaged to someone else- you'll meet him when you come from the funeral. Feli is torn apart, Lovino. He's been locked in his room all day."

"Who died?" Lovino asked absently, now more focused on fruitlessly trying to imagine his brother. His baby brother, his fratello- the worst part of the divorce those many years ago. Lovino had loved his brother dearly, nearly more than anything in the world. Sure, he was annoying when he woke up in the middle of the night crying, but Lovino didn't care. He was cute and Feli had loved him too. Antonio had a few pictures of him here and there that he had brought with him when they moved. Feliciano was still a baby in everyone one of them, almost always with Lovino at his side. Lovino had no idea what his brother looked like now.

Aria's voice turned haggard with a sigh. "Your grandfather, Roma."

"Abuelo died?" Lovino repeated incredulously. "Y-you don't mean, the Harvard professor and painter Grandpa Roma, do you? How did he die? He was the picture of health!" At least he was ten years ago, the last I saw of him.

"Sì, Lovino. Your Nonno Roma. He had a heart attack a while back, and he never fully recovered from it. We tried our best, took him to the best doctors, but…." Another tired sigh and her voice dropped lower and slower, like she was fighting a losing battle against tears. "But he's gone now. He… he said before he died that he wanted you to be at the funeral. He wanted you to get to know your brother. It'll really help him get over Nonno if you come, Lovino."

So I'm going to be used as a cheer-up for Feli? The brother you stole from us ten years ago? You don't care about seeing me- you just want your precious Feliciano happy again. You've probably turned him into a brat like you!

Suddenly, another voice in the background picked up. It was low but kind, belonging to a man about Aria's age. "…says he wants to fix the pasta tonight. Who're you talking to now, honey?"

"Lovino, the other one," Aria answered away from the phone. Lovino narrowed his eyes at the receiver. The other one?

"Ah," the man simply said. "I'll help Feliciano in the kitchen, okay?"

"Grazie, Marco. Tell him to take it easy on the parmesan this time! It nearly swallowed the sauce the other day. I'm sorry, Lovino, but I have to go, alright? I'll see you at the funeral. Ciao!"

And just like that, she was gone.

Lovino laid the phone on the counter and took a seat, putting his face in his hands. "Ten years," he muttered, "and that's it? Thanks, Mom. Thanks a lot."

After a moment of sitting there, Lovino put the phone back on the hook and moved to the refrigerator. Feliciano, Aria, and Marco were having pasta for dinner. Lili was in the hospital, having to undergo who-knows-what to try and figure out why her so-called stage one, harmless cancer was making her so… so sick like that.

But while they were busy with that, Lovino was going to fix himself a turkey sandwich with American cheese and two slices of a tomato. And on the off chance that he was feeling generous, he might even make Antonio one too.

Actually, he was feeling generous. But only because Antonio had been crying and it had apparently been a long, terrible day for them both. When Lovino brought the sandwich to his room, Antonio didn't make a fuss about moving to the kitchen, so they ate on his bed. "I bet he's all grown up," Antonio said at long last, taking a forlorn bite out of his sandwich.

"Big enough to fix pasta," Lovino replied blandly, keeping his gaze leveled on the floor.

"…Is she alright?" Antonio finally asked, quietly and cautiously.

Lovino wasn't sure why, but tears suddenly sprang to his eyes. Before Lovino could even tell him anything, Antonio pulled him into a hug. His arms automatically wrapped around his father. For the first time all day, Lovino didn't feel so miserable- in fact he felt like he was finally letting everything that had been bothering him loose.

When had been the last time he'd opened up like this? Lovino couldn't even remember. He had always yelled at Antonio when he went into one of his "let's have a father-son hug!" moments, instead coming up with some excuse to get away from him. It had been that way for a long time- probably for ten whole years. Lovino kept everything bottled up for that long- all the fears he'd had when Alfred and Arthur started a stupid argument, thinking that Alfred was going to run away and never come back; when Max had fallen ill, making Lovino instantly assume he was going to quit the farm and leave him- What was it about him that made him think everyone was going to leave him?

Oh, that's right, Lovino bitterly thought to himself. It's because I'm a kid who came from a dysfunctional family. I'm screwy because my parents divorced and I left my brother and now my grandfather is dead and he was the only one who wanted me to stay and… and…!

"I hate this," Lovino miserably croaked out. Antonio didn't say a word. Instead, he finally pulled back to take a look at him. Lovino instantly wiped his eyes, hating that he was crying like this too.

Antonio cracked a smile. "Te amo, mi hijo. Te amo siempre, comprende? Todo va a estar bien, lo prometo."

"It's not okay! Grandpa just died, Papá! Lili has cancer and she's going to die too!"

"It's going to be okay!" Antonio repeated with more force. "You think I'm chipper with all of this?"

Lovino instantly shut his mouth.

"Roma was practically a second father," Antonio started, lowering his voice again. He was almost as quiet as Matthew. "I hated having to leave Feliciano- I hated to leave at all! I've had lots of family and old friends die on me, Lovi, and none of it was easy. But I kept on going, because there's as much good in the world as there is bad. And let me tell you, it is so much easier to love than to hate. If you hate something, it'll only make you sadder. You have to be stronger than the bad things- you have to smile. Just like Roma said. In two days, we're going to meet Feliciano. Do you really want your brother to see you like this? Moping around, hating the world and everyone and everything in it? Your life isn't miserable, Lovino!"

Lovino quietly stood, grabbing their empty plates. "I have homework to do. I'll be over at Alfred's. That's probably where Mattie is."

The Italian stood in the doorway. He let out a slow deep breath before saying, "Te amo tambien."

((((()))))

The funeral home was bursting over with sobbing women, hundreds of children, and a few men Lovino assumed to be Roma's son-in-laws or children. Just as he had expected, neither Antonio nor Lovino recognized any of the people- most of whom appeared to be of Mediterranean decent.

Inside was just as crowded, the bodies colliding in conversation nearly halting the line to Roma's casket. Lovino felt his nonexistent claustrophobia closing in on him, making his breath come in short. Of course, Antonio, who was a complete idiot, took this as meaning he was scared. Which he wasn't. "It's going to be okay, yeah? I haven't seen Feliciano in ten years either. I bet Aria's going to hug you so tight you'll explode! That's what I'd do."

"Great," Lovino muttered. Steeling an irritated scowl on his face, he grabbed the smiling Spaniard's wrist and shoved through the crowd, pushing his way to the front of the room.

Sobbing aunts hugged everyone that came near their obviously huge personal bubble, and unfortunately Lovino was no exception. "Oh, Feli, I'm so sorry! I know you and Roma were so close! Tissue, Feli?"

Feli? Oh. Feliciano. They thought he was Feliciano.

"I-I'm not-"

"FELICIANO!" the next aunt wailed, pulling him into her chest.

"Feli!"

Eventually, after being smothered by every single freaking aunt on Aria's side of the family, every last one of them confusing him for Feliciano, he was released before Roma's casket.

Roma looked exactly as Lovino remembered him: Lovino's dark red hair, the stubble of a beard he refused to shave or grow out… and Lovino swore he could still see Roma's signature smirk hidden in his closed eyes that also looked just like his. Roma's favorite Rolex was on his wrist. It almost brought tears to his eyes- almost. Roma was lazy, his jokes were awful, and he had spawned the most hateful woman on the face of the earth, but he had good standards when it came to honor.

He believed Lovino would always make something great out of himself, despite how Aria and seemingly everyone else swore he'd always be a troublemaker. On the day of the divorce, Roma had promised that he wouldn't forget him, no matter what the outcome of the case was.

Roma had kept his promise, sending him and Antonio Christmas and birthday presents the first few years they were apart. Antonio sent him pictures of Lovino, gushing over the phone how tall he was getting and how he looked more and more like Roma with each passing day.

It had annoyed Lovino to death. But now, with Roma gone, Lovino realized… he wrong to scorn the happy voice on the other end of the phone. He was wrong to think Roma was merely mocking him with his riches that he shared only with Aria and not Antonio.

"I'm an idiot," Lovino murmured, looking down at his mirrored face. "I'm an idiot, and I didn't deserve to have a grandfather like you."

Too busy in his own thoughts to notice his arrival, an auburn haired ten-year-old popped up beside him. "Grandpa Roma wouldn't like you saying that."

Lovino flinched in surprise, turning wide, amber eyes on the boy that had appeared out of nowhere. However, he quickly recovered with a scowl. "Butt out, kid."

The boy looked up with a ragged smile and a chuckle. His eyes were red and puffy, like he'd been crying for hours and was prone to start another round of sobbing any second. "You're probably one of my cousins, right? I'm Aria's son, Feliciano Vargas."

Lovino instantly froze, staring down at the short, skinny little boy. Feliciano frowned, then looked down at his baggy suit. "I don't… have anything on me, do I?"

"N-no," Lovino whispered, eyes locked on Feliciano's hazel eyes. The boy had Antonio's hair, but Aria's face and eyes. He was insanely skinny- just like Lili. Lovino swallowed down the sight of the small girl unconscious, on a stretcher headed towards an ambulance. She was going to be okay. She had to be okay. Lovino cast the ever growing crowd a desperate look, hoping that Antonio would pop up and come to his rescue.

Feliciano looked him over once more, tapping his foot, his teary eyes starting to clear up with something to distract him from thoughts of Roma. "Let me guess, 'cause you look familiar and I should know who you are. Um… Tia's son? No, no, Jackson has black hair. Gloria's? Nope, if you were Andrew, you'd be giving me a noogie. You're Grant, aren't you?"

Lovino's mouth instantly went dry. He has no idea who I am. Maybe… maybe I should just… leave?

But the younger boy spewed another way-off guess, shaking his head in irritation. "Too many cousins…. So, who are you?"

"People look up to those who smile and strive to get to where they want to go. It's how you gain respect, and without respect, you can't expect to be someone Feli will look up to one day."

Lovino stole another glance back at his grandfather. A smile spread out on his face as he turned back to Feliciano.

"I'm Lovino. Lovino Romulus Fernandez-Carriedo," he specified, as Feliciano's mouth shut and his eyes grew wide. "My dad is Antonio. Aria… is my mom too.

"And you, Feliciano, are my brother."

Translations:

German-

Vati- daddy

Mutti- mommy

French-

Oui- yes

Italian-

Mamma- Mom

Sì, l'amore, sì. E 'la tua mamma- Yes, my love, yes. It's your mom

Fratello- brother

Sì- yes

Nonno- grandpa

Grazie- thank you

Ciao- bye

Spanish-

Papá- dad

Abuelo- grandpa

Te amo, mi hijo. Te amo siempre, comprende? Todo va a estar bien, lo prometo- I love you, my son. I always love you, understand? Everything is going to be alright, I promise.

Te amo tambien- I love you too.