You all pissed? Good. I'm pissed at myself for what I made happen in the last chapter. Damiano is a sick little bastard, isn't he? And to think he spawned from my devious mind. I'm evil, I know. I'm going to stop talking and let you guys continue. But before I go, I have another poll on my profile. Check it out if you have time. It will remain until the end of this story.

EDIT: The song Antonio sings is "Per Te" by Josh Groban

Happy reading~

Warnings: Language, violence and (now) sexual themes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

Chapter Nine

From the single window in the basement, sunlight trickled in, shining down on a lithe figure tangled in the bed sheets that only hid half the bruises marring his body. The sun brought anything but warmth. He remained still, excluding the slow rise and fall of his chest. Someone else entered the room, watching as he slept. The newcomer moved to the side of the bed and with a gentle hand, they brushed back strands of dark hair veiling the bruise on the sleeping person's face. Amber eyes filled with tears at the sight of it.

"Fratello," the owner of such eyes knelt down and shook the other's shoulder. "Fratello, wake up."

"Mm…" Lovino groaned and shifted ever so slightly.

Feliciano tenderly shook him again, "Fratello, wake up, please. It's time to get up."

Forest green eyes eventually revealed themselves, scanning the room lethargically.

"Where am I…?" Lovino's voice was hoarse from his pain-filled screams.

"You're still in the basement. I'm going to help you get cleaned up," Feliciano replied.

"Feli? Is that you?" Lovino lifted his aching head.

"Yes, fratello. It's me. I'm here," the younger placed his hand on Lovino's only for the latter to pull it away. Feliciano drew his hand back, surprised at the action.

"You told," was all Lovino said.

"Fratello—"

"Do you realize that I'll never see Antonio again? As long as I am under this roof, I'm a prisoner and a slave while you're here gallivanting about seeing Ludwig whenever the hell you want to! I hope you're fucking happy with your choice!" Lovino growled, making a failed attempt to sit up.

Pain was shooting all throughout his body and he was forced to be still and try to endure it.

"Fratello, he lied to you! I didn't tell him anything! I promise!"

"Get out, Feliciano. Leave me alone."

"But—"

"Get out!"

The younger of the two fled the room and the door slammed shut.

Lovino sighed, trying to gather his bearings. He wanted to cry. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to die. But that was too easy. He felt dirty—filthy. That man had touched him in ways that were meant for the one who he was going to be spending the rest of his life man had taken everything from him, even that last bit of innocence he was clinging to. The sheets were randomly spotted a disgusting red.

Blood.

His blood.

He wanted to vomit. He wanted to cry.

Mustering all of his stolen strength, Lovino used the small table beside the bed to assist him in standing, letting out a small cry at the pain burning from his rear end up along his spine before it ignited the rest of his body. He gave it time to simmer down before even considering taking a single step forward towards the small bathroom.

"Come on, Lovino," he encouraged himself. "You can make it. Don't let him break you."

Why not just give up? The voice in his head hissed in dark amusement. You're at the end of your rope, kid. Say it—you know you want to die. You're finished with this life! You want nothing to do with your family or your fake boyfriend.

Lovino pointedly ignored its whispers. He couldn't listen to it now—not at a time like this. Not when he was so close to falling apart completely. Fully adjusted, the teen limped forward and the agony slammed into him like a boulder and his mind reeled. He was so close to blacking out again…

Don't. Fight it. Don't be weak.

With much concerted effort, Lovino had made it to the bathroom and leaned against the sink for support. His legs felt like jelly and his body was on fire. What a way to start his day…

He reached over and turned on the shower, sitting on the toilet after doing so. While waiting for the water to warm, he inspected himself, counting each of the bruises.

One… two… three… four…

Ten total. He ran his fingers along the dark purple marks. He didn't remember much of last night and he didn't want to. He had shut everything out in the very beginning. It was all a surreal blur. These bruises, though, these painful mementos were there so he couldn't possibly forget. Even if his mind had no recollection, his body did. Every touch was like a toxin.

Steam began rising out of the shower and Lovino stepped under the water, wanting to drown in it. The water ran smoothly down his body and all the while Lovino just stood there and closed his eyes.

Dirty.

Filthy.

Whore.

Unloved.

Unwanted.

He could feel the man pinning his arms above his head again and smell the stench of alcohol on his breath. It burned his nostrils and as the man forcibly kissed him, he could taste it in his mouth. His lips were meant for no one else but the Spaniard he had fallen in love with. No one else had that right. No one else was supposed to touch him like that. He felt that it was a betrayal to Antonio.

What will Antonio think of you now, whore? You're dirty! You're undeserving of his love! You've crushed his heart! How dare you let another man other than the one you love take advantage of you like that!

…it was true.

It was all true.

He didn't think he'd be able to face Antonio again. He didn't have the right to look in those gorgeous eyes and say "I love you." He had been stripped of that privilege along with his innocence and dignity. How would Antonio look at him now? He was tainted—no longer pure. Clear pearls of liquid regret trailed down Lovino's face.

He didn't have the right to those either.

And to think that you enjoyed yourself! You're disgusting! A pig!

"No…" Lovino grabbed at his head, trying to shut out the voice. "I didn't…!"

Now you're a dirty whore and a liar? You're fucked up basket case, aren't you, kid?

"Shut up! Just leave me alone!"

Why are you getting so upset? Your own actions allowed this to happen. If you had never gone out with Antonio last night, this wouldn't be happening to you. It was your own selfish desires that made this possible. You deserve this! You deserve every bit of pain you feel!

This… this was too much! Lovino feared for his sanity if this kept up. He knew his body was broken but his spirit had remained unyielding. To know that it was falling apart by the seams frightened the teen.

And he feared that he was powerless to stop it.

After showering, Lovino hobbled his way upstairs only to be pulled into a breathtaking hug by his mother. He fought in her grip, not exactly wanting to be touched at the moment. Warm tears made contact with his skin and he froze as she shook horribly.

"My boy… my baby boy… I'm so sorry, Lovino…"

Sorry? He scoffed inwardly.

Sorry was shit to him at this point.

"Mom, can you let me go?" Lovino spoke quietly. "I'm not exactly comfortable right now."

"But Lovino—"

"He wants to be alone, Mom," Feliciano was staring out the window with his back turned to them. "Touching him will only make him mad."

"What do you know?" Lovino snarled. "You wouldn't be able to handle a third of what I've had to endure and you know it!"

"I'm not the one who did this to you so don't go acting like everything is my fault!" Feliciano shot back.

"You're the one who told on me, you little shit! I wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for your sorry ass!"

"You weren't even there! You don't know what happened! You were God knows where doing God knows what while Mom and I were here defending you!" Feliciano retorted, now facing his brother with fire in his eyes.

Lovino wasn't fazed in the slightest, "Defending me? No, defending would be trying to stop Dad from beating the shit out of me! Defending would be actually trying to talk some sense into him! But did I see you do that? No! So don't talk about 'defending' me! I've been saving you! I'd rather endure the beating instead of you! I was raped because of you! I lost everything including the one I love!"

"You should know better than to listen to what our father says! He lied to you, okay? He lied! He threatened to kill Mom if I told him what really happened!"

"What're you talking about?"

"When he got home, he came into our room and threw a fit when he saw you had snuck out the window. He woke me up and asked where you were. I told him I didn't know and then he beat me up a little," Feliciano showed his brother the bruise on his face. "Then he woke up Mama and threatened to kill her if I didn't tell him. I kept saying that I didn't know. We were waiting and that's when you came home."

The older brother was silent.

"We tried but he wouldn't listen," Feliciano's eyes began to moisten, unable to hold them back any longer. He hated arguing with his brother, the one he loved most out of his family next to his mother. "I should've stood up for you more… I should've been brave and said something… but—but the last time I tried to defend you, he put you in the hospital. I was so afraid after that…! I didn't want to hurt you anymore! I couldn't cause you anymore pain than you already were in…!"

Lovino said nothing and was pokerfaced.

"Family members are supposed to be there for each other… and I've failed you, fratello. I'm so sorry. I would understand if you hated me and never spoke to me again. But… I just needed to get this off my chest," Feliciano had stopped crying by this point and was staring at the floor.

It took a minute for Lovino to respond as he let Feliciano's words soak in. None of this was fair. Putting the blame on one another wasn't going to solve the problem. They had to stay together. They couldn't let this one incident tear them apart.

Lovino sighed, "You idiot. I could never hate you no matter what. You're my brother and we to stick together."

"I haven't been a very good brother, have I?" Feliciano's eyes were still damp. "I promise I'll try better! He won't hit you anymore! I promise!"

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Feli," Lovino said.

"No, I promise. He won't ever hit you again. Count on it."

There was an abnormal seriousness in Feliciano then, making Lovino wonder what his brother could possibly be thinking.

When Antonio left Lovino last night, he couldn't help the dread that took root in his heart. What had happened last night? Did his Lovinito get caught? He hoped not. Lovino was everything to him now—his heart and soul. He was the very essence of it. If Lovino was gone…

No! No! Stop it! Don't think like that! Lovino is just fine!

He had to stay positive. He would only drive himself nuts.

With nothing else better to do, the teen stared out his bedroom window, one that faced Lovino's house. And speaking of his little tomato, there the Italian was, sitting out of his front porch. He was home alone, obviously, or he'd be cooped up inside. That, or his dad wasn't in the house. Antonio rushed down the stairs and nearly tripped over his own two feet as he burst through his front door and ran to Lovino.

Said Italian had his legs drawn up to his chest and his arms locked firmly around them. He stared at the blades of grass but he wasn't really seeing them. He was too deep in his thoughts. Too deep in his memories. Antonio skidded to a stop and stood there for a moment, greatly puzzled as to why the Italian had yet to notice his presence.

"Lovi? Are you all right?" Antonio placed his hands on the teen's arms gently and looked deep into those green eyes he adored so much. Soon, those eyes widened in fear.

Lovino tensed completely and his breath hitched in his throat as everything came rushing back to him, murdering his mind and what could very well be the remnants of his sanity.

. . .

The man was hovering above him with a devilish smirk on his face as he reveled in the fear from the trembling teen's expression. Lovino's hands were held above his head and he was stripped of his clothes by this complete stranger. The burly man drank in Lovino's lithe frame, studying him with hungry coffee eyes.

"You're such a pretty little thing. How could I have missed you?" the man caressed Lovino's cheek.

The teen jerked his face away and stared at the wall as tears began to brim his eyes. He just wished for the man to be done and spare him the humiliation.

"Feisty, aren't we?"

"Not on your life, you son of a bitch," Lovino growled.

The man's eyes narrowed to slits at the tone in his prey's voice.

Then it came.

The fire that reduced his innocence to ashes.

It consumed him entirely and he cried out as his body felt like it would split in two. The tears spilled over, overflowing the banks of his eyes and blurring his vision. His mind spun wildly when the inferno would fade then come back, just as strong and ferocious as before.

What could he possibly do?

He was helpless—a lamb to the slaughter.

Fight, his instincts told him, fight! Fight him! Fight it!

I can't, he had to remind himself. My family… I have to protect them.

It wasn't long until the teen had blacked out.

. . .

Those hands…

Those hands were holding touching him…

No! The man was back! He came to take him! He wouldn't be able to handle it! Not again! He didn't want the fire to ignite his insides again!

"Get away from me! Don't touch me!" Lovino shoved Antonio back and nearly knocked Antonio to the ground. He held his head in his hands so as not to see that dreadful lust in the man's dark eyes.

"Lovino… it's me, Antonio. What's wrong? What happened?" Antonio had gained his footing and was trying to approach the frantic teen again.

"Why can't you just leave me alone? I gave you what you wanted so go away!" Lovino shouted, still not looking up. He didn't want the fear. All he wanted was the numbness back. It was the only thing keeping him safe from the memories, from the pain. He desired nothing else.

"Lovi, it's Antonio. Remember? You do remember me, don't you?" Antonio decided not to make another attempt to touch Lovino again lest the latter have another outburst.

"…Antonio?" hazed forest eyes finally met with jade. Even though Lovino had said his name, it didn't seem as if it had completely registered in the Italian's head.

How can you even speak to him? You betrayed him, the voice jeered. Don't talk to him. You are unworthy.

"Yes. It's me. Lovi, what happened?"

At this, Lovino didn't respond as if he hadn't heard the Spaniard at all. Those muddled forest eyes broke eye contact and were unseeing again, focused on what was going on inside their mind. But Lovino was muttering something… something too low and too fast for Antonio to catch.

"Lovi, mi amor, what's wrong? What're you saying?" the Spaniard placed his hands atop Lovino's clenched ones. What was going on? Why was Lovino acting like this?

The Italian began murmuring another phrase and Antonio strained his ears to hear.

"What're you saying, Lovinito?"

"I said don't touch me!" Lovino ripped his hands away and grabbed at his head again from the images attacking his psyche. He then realized his mistake. He wasn't supposed to fight back. "I'm sorry! Just don't do it again! I can't take it!"

Antonio knelt there, absolutely stupefied but also very concerned for his love.

What had his father done now to spur a reaction like this in Lovino?

Never had he seen the Italian act in such a way no matter how bad his father beat him. His Lovinito had been so strong and sure of himself…

What happened? What made him break?

"Lovino, I need you to talk to me. Please, querido. What did your father do to you?" it had to have been his father if the dark blemishes on Lovino's perfect skin were anything to go by.

"I'm dirty… I'm unloved… I'm unwanted…" Lovino whispered in a near frenzied chant.

He wanted it all to go away. He wanted this to be some sort of horrible nightmare that he would wake up from and still be back in the field with gorgeous fireflies dancing around him. That was the only place he was safe. There was no other. He had to get there. But how? How could he escape his father's clutches?

What if there was no escape?

What if he was forced to stay forever?

What if he died there in that basement and would be remembered as nothing but a whore?

Lovino breathed heavily and deeply to calm himself, his face still hidden from Antonio who so desperately wanted to see it. The Spaniard stared at Lovino, not sure what he should do—or what he could do. He had to get through and find his sweet little tomato.

"Lovi," Antonio gently ran his fingers through Lovino's dark strands of hair. "Lovi, querido, I need you to look at me. Can you do that for me? Please?"

"No… no, I can't. I'm dirty. I'm so dirty. I deserved this. You don't want me. No one wants me," Lovino cringed at Antonio's touch.

"Why would you be dirty?" Antonio asked.

The Italian was now silent, starting to lose himself again.

"Lovino, don't do this to me. I need an answer. What did your father do to you?" Antonio urged, not yet fully aware of the immense pressure he was putting on Lovino's mind. "Please answer me, querido. I can't help if you won't tell me what's wrong."

"…alone…" Lovino muttered.

Antonio didn't understand the first part, "What did you say?"

"Go away! Leave me alone!" Lovino scrambled away from the Spaniard and rushed inside his house, slamming the door on Antonio and hopefully the memories haunting him.

Once inside the security of his own home, Lovino leaned against the door and sat down; curling himself back inside the protective shield he was in. He was utterly calm now and no tears dared to flow. Why couldn't he cry? Why was he so… composed? It didn't make sense.

You deserve this, remember? You allowed it to happen. If you were a real man, you would've fought back and found a way to protect your mother and brother. But no, you decided to let yourself be sold. I hope you're happy with your decision, whore. You deserve punishment.

"I do deserve it…" Lovino nodded to himself. "I deserve it all."