CHAPTER TEN

I Wanted You Dead

Lovino sighed, he was unhappy and bored. They were back to square one again; nothing of their previous progress was left. The bastards burned everything, even the note and picture. Nothing. They had nothing left. It was now about just trying to remember what they had before everything happened. Something that people were arguing over, claiming false fact after fact. It was really annoying him and if he didn't get out of this terrible atmosphere his head was bound to explode, mentally and maybe even physically if he tried hard enough.

Finally tired of all of this, Lovino roughly slid his chair back and stood up. He began the motions to slip on his jacket as he spoke to his companion.

"Oi Spain! Tell the potato-bastard that I'm going for a walk. Be back later."

"Be careful Lovi!" Antonio called out behind him. Lovino lazily waved a hand at him, not even looking back or commenting on the nickname. Once he was outside, he wasn't sure where he was planning to go. He didn't have any money on him, so heading to get some food was not an option. So what if he'd just had lunch a couple of hours before noon? He was still hungry. As much as he would've loved to head home, too far of a walk. He wasn't planning to head a couple of miles out, just a good ten minutes or so of fresh air and thinking room.

Then it hit him, the park. It was barely a couple of blocks down and would likely be empty this early. Kids are in school and people are working, that's just how things roll. Good ten or so minutes later, Lovino arrives at the brass gate labeled "Adams National Park". Whatever, he didn't care whoever Adam was and why he's so important; Lovino was just here to clear his mind.

Taking a couple of steps in, his predictions were right. Nobody's here, too early for that. He'll have plenty of alone time without anyone barging in on his thoughts. So his adventure began. He had lots of thinking to do. For one, he didn't exactly grasp this whole "One-p" and "Two-p" thing that well. How could there be two Italies?! Yes there was North and South, but another copy of those? He couldn't believe that.

It didn't help with the fact that Arthur had shouted something about Two-Ps being in the room, then when he went to look they were long gone and Alfred was running after them at high speeds with Ludwig. He didn't even have a mental imagine to make him understand.

But the concept of opposites seemed... familiar. It was something that was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't say. Whatever it was, he needed to figure out what before it came back to bite him in the ass. Unfortunately, he didn't see it coming any faster than it did.

While he was mumbling to himself he didn't notice the figure creeping up behind him.

"Stupid opposites bullshit taking my brother. Those damn bastards. If I find them I'll wring their necks an-" His sentence wasn't finished. It couldn't be finished. He was cut off rather abruptly by a cheery voice.

"That's not very nice fratello." Lovino stopped in his spot, his eyes widening.

"F-Feli?" He asked, turning quickly on his heel. His heart fell with what he saw. A sharp intake of breath and the widening of eyes only made the figure before him smile expand a bit bigger.

"Close." The man said. "But not close enough." The knife seemed to come out of nowhere, swirling briefly around the other's finger before landing in his grip.

"Who are you?" Lovino asked, his voice was stern but his face showed otherwise.

"What, you don't recognize your own brother?" The man smiled deviously and placed the flat end of his knife to his cheek.

"You're not my brother... Who are you?" Lovino took a single step back as the man bowed before standing up.

"Luciano Veneziano Vargas, at your service." This man, he seemed so familiar. Not just by the fact that his characteristics resembled his brother, but something else along the lines. As if they had met each other before.

"It's been so long since we last saw each other. About fifty years don't you say?" Fifty years? What the hell happened fifty years ago...?

"And it would seem that you haven't changed a bit either. You're still just as loud-mouthed as you were before. You just don't know when to shut up hm?" Lovino swallowed down an insult that was bound to come out if he didn't bite his tongue.

"What are you talking about?" He blurted out but was quickly silenced by a knife being placed at his neck.

"Don't pretend that you don't remember me, or are you really just that stupido? I guess you always were anyway." The knife was removed so it could be replaced with a gloved hand. It closed around his neck but made no action to choke.

"I don't..." Lovino was lost for words, he couldn't remember. Why couldn't he remember?

"That's not why I came here though." He removed his hand and the smile returned to his face, but only for a short amount of time. Lovino raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you here then?" Luciano frowned.

"Because someone decided to spill my little secret." Secret? What is he- Goddammit

Lovino remembered it now. It was something he tried to so hard forget. It was during the very beginning of World War II, his brother was acting weird. A lot weirder than normal to say the least. He wasn't always as happy and cheery as he usually was; he was acting a bit... murderous. It took him a moment to realize the change. The eyes were the most obvious. For one, they were opened.

And another, they weren't the regular brown but an odd violet shade. His skin was a bit tanner as well, but that couldn't really be noted unless you saw a side-by-side comparison.

Once he discovered the truth he confronted the man. He remember that night like it was painted in his mind and stuck there forever, something he would have to wake up to and look at because it would never go away.

. . .

Lovino walked down the quiet corridors that lead to the library. Feliciano was in there. He was always in there at times like this. Not that he ever read. He would just watch the small fire that was lit every night in the small fireplace. He would watch the flames rise and fall, trying to crawl their way out of their small cage but never making it that far. It fascinated him.

But Lovino knew the man sitting in that room in his favorite rosy red chair was not his brother, but a monster. One of inhuman capabilities that he was willing to use at any point in time. He opened the door slowly, quietly, making sure that his presence was not known. Stepping in but not bothering to close the door, he came in further.

Just as he had predicted, his brother sat there and calmly watched the red flames. Lovino walked up behind him. He didn't want to startle his brother, who had recently picked up the hobby of carrying a knife with him wherever he went. Another obvious change. He didn't know if he was just being paranoid about the war and chance of assassination, though that seemed more probable for someone such as their boss, he still attacked anything that snuck up on him; as long as it moved.

"Buonasera fratello." Lovino stopped in his place; he obviously wasn't as quiet as he thought.

"Evening." He replied quickly before continuing his strides towards his brother. The man in the chair sighed.

"You really shouldn't sneak up on people fratello..." he murmured rather darkly. The only thing that could be seen was his right hand, which was covered with a tan sleeve. Wait, tan sleeve? Since when did his brother decide to change the color scheme of his uniform? It had always been blue. Blue, blue, blue. That was his brother's color and it seemed that he could never choose another over it.

"I'll keep that in mind..." He muttered as he stopped behind the massive chair.

"So fratello, how is everything going with the war?" Feliciano moved his hand around as he spoke, stereotypical Italian action.

"Fine, but I hate siding with that macho potato guy. It's so stupid." He let out an aggravated huff. Feliciano stood from his seat and walked over to stand directly in front of the fireplace. Lovino noticed the small hat placed on his head. What the-

"Shame." Shame? Shame!? His brother never said shame; it just wasn't something that would slip off of his tongue. Ever. Lovino had enough of this, he stepped forward and his hands turned into balls, knuckles growing white.

"Alright you bastard, who are you and what have you done with Veneziano?!" The other just chuckled, not even looking back.

"I don't know what you're talking about." His teeth gritted, arm tingled at the amount of anger flowing through his pulse.

"Stop pretending you bastardo, I know you're not him. So where did you put him stronzo!?" Feliciano (?) turned around, a dark grin on his face. The knife he had a new habit of carrying around was in his hand, the tip pressed against his lip.

"Ah... fratello that's not very nice. Maybe I should cut that disrespectful tongue of yours out of your mouth." He hissed, swaying the knife back and forth. Lovino paled slightly but stood his ground. "What have you done with him?" The other laughed again.

"And I thought my brother was stupid. But you would seem to beat him on that mark." Lovino's face turned red, truly out of rage. He wanted to go over there and strangle this man, but he couldn't. Because he was scared.

"My name is Luciano. Remember it, because it will be the last thing you will hear before I tie you down and cut open your stomach, so you can die a slow and painful death." His voice was cheery, despite the phrase. Lovino had to run, and leave. He couldn't take on this man, especially without a weapon. His best chance was to run and escape this psychopath. So that's what he did. He turned around a bolted, running from the room and down the hall. All he heard was the lunatic laugh.

"You can't escape fratello!" He ran faster. The front door wasn't far from there; he could make it if he just tried hard enough. He broke out into a full sprint, hearing the footsteps behind him as well speed up. He couldn't die now, he wasn't ready to. The front door was within his reach. He latched out and grabbed the knob, turning it quickly.

It wouldn't move.

He tried again and again and again but it wouldn't budge. He was locked in.

"How the hell?" He thought, and then he remembered that the door could be locked from the outside.

"Stupid ass design." He muttered before turning around. The key, where did he keep that damn key? Ah, yes! In the kitchen, he had one in the kitchen that hung on a rack.

Hopefully Luciano wouldn't get there first... it had gotten suspiciously quiet. He had turned around, expecting a knife to collide with his forehead. But then there was nothing. Nothing at all. There was no way he had lost the bastard, did he? Wouldn't this be the most obvious escape? No, he must have locked it himself. Probably hiding near another exit to ambush him. That wasn't going to happen.

Cautiously, Lovino stalked down the hallways. He checked every corner and every crevice for any signs of the maniac. He couldn't get jumped at a time like this. The kitchen, why did it have to be so damn far away from the front door? Why did you have to walk down several hallways in order to reach the most used room in the entire household?! Another stupid design flaw, they really should've thought this out better.

Walking down one hall and into a door and he was finally in the grand kitchen. It was big, yes, but had no servants. Not at the moment at least, most of them had to be fired in order to increase funds for the war. He ran over to their fridge and checked the side. Just like they had always been, the keys were hanging on the wooden rack next to it. He snatched it quickly and then turned around, preparing to bolt.

He never had a chance. He let out a scream as his hand fell to the newly placed incision on his leg. He felt the warm liquid flow down his thigh as he fell to his knee, grinding his teeth in pain. He looked up, seeing Luciano smiling down at him.

"Did you really think it would be that easy fratello?" Lovino cursed under his breath at the pain streaking through his muscles.

"You're no brother of mine, bastardo." Luciano frowned, obviously unhappy with the response. A newer, far worse wave of pain ripped through him as Luciano launched his knife deep into Lovino's leg. Screams erupted, followed by animalistic laughter as Luciano stared at his victim. He knelt down to the other's level, meeting him eye-to-eye.

"Listen idiota, if you tell anyone about this I will find you and I will finish you off. That is a promise I will keep. And once I kill you, I'll wipe out the rest of your family too. There will be no traces of the Vargas family left for anyone to see. So if you know what's good for you, keep quiet." Those were Luciano's final words before he walked out of the house, never looking back.

. . .

That day scared Lovino for life, any remembrance of the dark figure that had claimed to be his brother for weeks on end, was forever carved into his memory. So he did anything and everything he could to forget it. Antonio had found Lovino, three days later, unconscious in his own blood in the kitchen. It was a miracle he survived; as if it had taken any longer he would have fallen.

He was then plowed with questions, from police all the way to companions. Antonio asked a few times, but after receiving no answer he gave up. But there was no way Lovino could keep such a secret for the rest of his life. Who could he tell? Luciano had threatened that if he did then he would surely die, but how would he find out? It was nearly impossible for such a thing to happen, especially after his brother returned from his disappearance. Lovino was convinced that the monster was gone, and he was, at the least, safe. And what if he only told one person, someone who wouldn't tell anyone else?

That was the best idea he had, at the moment. But who would he ask? He couldn't tell Feliciano that would break his brother's fragile heart. The Potato-Bastard was out of the question, as well as the quiet Japanese man he barely conversed with. Most others were at war with him, they wouldn't listen. So who?

Antonio. That was the only person he could trust, was the tomato-bastard that had raised him and been his friend for god knows how long. He needed to get this secret off his chest, even if it meant he had a chance of dying as a cause of it. So, while he was still in the hospital, he told him everything. Starting from when his brother first started acting weird to that terrible, terrible night. It was a couple of hours worth of story, but Antonio was very interested. After spilling his guts to his self-proclaimed best friend, Antonio gave him a comforting hug before departing, as visitor hours were over.

He never really thought that day would come back to haunt him, as it had made him feel better. He almost forgot it after those dreadful years full of war. Almost anything that happened aside from the fights and the bloodshed was forgotten in general. But it seems that his past was coming back and now he was being forced to face one of his worst nightmares.

"Ah, I see you remember me now." Luciano's smile returned.

"I don't understand." Lovino whispered.

"Who told you?" Luciano laughed that psychopathic laugh again, smile never fading.

"Quite a mystery isn't it? I was confused too, when Sebastian came up to me and told me he had seen something. A vision was it? No, not at all. It was a memory. Someone else's memory. It took us awhile to figure out whom, but we figured it out later.

"You see, it would seem that us, Two-Ps, as you would seem to refer, share memories with our One-ps. It takes a very long time for us to receive each other's memories though, so they could easily be mistaken for something we have done in the past. Unless you know what it means. Our Spain received your Spain's memory of that day, which he shared with me. You were smart, Lovino, I admit." He began to walk back and forth, pacing somewhat.

"If it wasn't for this one little thing you may have gotten away with it. But I am a man of my word, as you can tell, and I have come to fulfill my promise I made. Even if it was fifty years ago." Antonio tapped his pencil on the table impatiently. Lovino had been gone for how long, a half an hour or so? It may not have been too long but he was still worrying. With all the mayhem going on, who wouldn't be nervous? He needed to make sure that his friend was safe. He already wasn't sure about one Italian; he had to make sure that he didn't lose the other.

It seemed that his impatience was noticeable, as Ludwig eyed him before walking over to him. He asked what's wrong, in which Antonio replied he was simply worried. Ludwig nodded, understanding his worry.

"Go find him; we need the extra hands anyway. There's way too much paperwork."

He barely got to finish his sentence before Antonio was out the door and rushing around the streets, trying to find his companion. That couldn't be too hard... right? Lovino wouldn't go too far, he'd either get bored or tired and head back. His questions though were, unfortunately, quickly answered when he turned the corner and bumped into someone. The two tumbled back into a wall and Antonio found himself facing Lovino.

"Lovi!" He said, death hugging the other man who was unable to put up much of a fight.

"Get off me you bastard! If we don't keep moving then-" He couldn't finish his sentence as a knife was jabbed into the wooden wall right next to his head. "Consider that a warning idioti." Luciano hissed as he removed the small blade. Lovino stumbled back farther as he tripped over his own words.

"T-that's him." He stuttered. Antonio looked at him confused. Then he realized what he meant. It was so obvious after all.

"Luciano?" He asked. He always thought back to the story and the night that he was told, multiple times. He just wondered if it was true, or if it was simply an assassin that figured he would let his target suffer and took disguise. But Lovino had described his attacker in such great detail it seemed almost impossible.

"Sì." The violet eyed man smiled.

"And I'm here to kill you."

Stupido = Stupid (Italian)

Buonasera = Good Evening (Italian)

Fratello = Brother (Italian)

Stronzo = Asshole (Italian)

Bastardo = Bastard (Italian)

Idioti = Idiots (Italian)

Sì = Yes (Italian)