Chapter 10: Heartbreaking Separation

April 14th, 1912.

It is late-morning. Ice warnings have been received.

Who should worry about such things on an unsinkable ship?

"Okay, so here's the plan," Francis said, waving a bowler hat and suit jacket in front of Gilbert's face. "You put these on. I'll sneak you up there, and then it's your job to find the girl. Think you can handle it?"

Gilbert nodded; affirmative.

"Good," his blond-headed friend said. He handed the costume to Gilbert, who slipped into it quickly. They began climbing up the stairs, but the albino made sure not to leave without a quick wink at his brother, who looked confused and extremely annoyed once again.

After they were up in rich-man's-land, Francis leaned over and whispered, "If you need me, I'll be over here." He walked over to a deck chair and casually sat himself down. Gilbert nodded and hurried off, positioning himself at an inconspicuous spot on the deck, waiting for his luck to strike.

It didn't take long before familiar voices floated his way. He'd heard these voices the previous night at dinner. Without much time to think, Gilbert simply hid his face by turning toward the ocean and adjusting his bowler hat. He couldn't see the people that were quickly approaching, but he could hear them. One voice in particular tugged at his heartstrings.

The hat still obscured his view, not to mention the fact that he had to keep his face turned away, but at least he could hear her voice as she and the others paused briefly, right behind him. That was his Liza all right. Her group began to move on, and for a second, Gilbert feared he'd lost his chance.

Fortunately, the girl lingered behind for half a moment, and that was half a moment enough. He swooped in, snatching her by the shoulder. It didn't even take a second for her to recognize his face.

"Go, go," he shoved her toward a random room, and the pair ducked inside, unnoticed.

"Gilbert," she said, shaking her head in distress, "This is impossible." Her eyes were painful; so painful and bursting with longing. She couldn't hide anything from him. "I have to go," her mouth said, while her expression screamed, Let me stay!

"I need to talk to you!" Gilbert said haltingly. He gently ushered her against the wall.

"No Gilbert!" she protested, but she didn't struggle to free herself, even though she was fully capable. Gilbert's reddish eyes stared meaningfully, and Elizabeth shook her head.

"Gilbert, I'm engaged," she muttered breathlessly, "I'm going to marry Roderich. I…I love Roderich."

Gilbert could almost hear her heart tearing apart as she lied. If he had been a gullible idiot, he would have let her continue hurting herself, but Gilbert was like a specially trained Liza-lie-detector. He cocked an eyebrow, fixed his gaze. He didn't need to make a comment. She knew he didn't believe what she was saying.

"Look, Liza...it's no picnic trying to deal with a drama queen like you. Sometimes it seems like all you want to do is argue with me," Gilbert chuckled honestly.

Liza's eyebrows pushed together, her delicate lips formed a scowl, but she didn't speak because she knew it was true.

"But that's talking skin-deep. On the inside, you're really the most awesome girl I've ever met!" he described her using his favorite word in the dictionary, which was only fitting. Gilbert was realizing, at that exact moment, how much Liza truly meant to him. He couldn't deny it anymore.

"Gilbert…" she pulled away again.

"Wait, wait, hold it right there! Let me tell you…" Gilbert managed to stop her, a billion phrases teetering on his lips. A look in Liza's gorgeous eyes froze them all, and a stutter fell out onto the floor.

"Y-You-You're beautiful –I mean…" a frustrated exhale followed, but Elizabeth didn't move. She knew there was more.

"I'm not as stupid as you think I am," Gilbert managed to say, "I know how the world is. I haven't got anything to offer but me, myself, and I! And while I think that's a pretty sweet deal, I know it's not what rich girls like you dream about every night. I get it. But…"

The next words struggled to leave his mouth. He'd never said anything like this before, and it was harder than he ever could have imagined.

"I'm...I'm in too deep now. Because I…love you."

He gave a second, only that, for the words to process, to circulate through the stuffy air for a moment before he continued. "And it wouldn't be like me to leave without knowing you're okay."

Both of them knew what he meant by that. He couldn't leave Liza with a man who pushed her around. He couldn't let her go while knowing she was going to marry someone who made her heart ache so badly.

Elizabeth swallowed hard, squeezing all the mushy things she wanted to say down into her stomach. "Well, I'm fine!" she told him instead, "I'll be fine."

Gilbert knew the opposite was true.

"Really!" she insisted desperately.

"Really?" he asked, hoping she's say no and throw herself into his arms. "'Cause I don't think so."

Liza's eyes spoke legions; excruciating, terrible legions. Her mouth spoke nothing, because again, Gilbert was right.

"They've got you trapped, Liza!" he shouted, pointing outside, to no one and to everyone. "And if you don't break free, you'll die! No matter how tough you are."

Two tears dripped down Liza's porcelain cheeks, and Gilbert cautiously reached up and wiped them away. They watched each other. Longed for each other. Wished wishes that could never come true.

"No matter how great you think you are…it's not your job to save me, Gilbert," she whispered.

"I know, stupid," he replied easily, "It's yours."

He leaned toward her and his mouth was so close to hers that they nearly touched. That's what he wanted so badly; he craved to feel what it was like for their mouths to crash into each other, for their limbs to tangle together and for them to melt into one, to forget the world around them and simply be. Reality stopped him when Liza turned her head.

"I'm going back," she said, "Leave me alone!"

She shoved Gilbert away and left without looking back at him. She was gone before the German regained his speech, and there was nothing he could do to bring her back. For a long time he stood there, staring into space. For the first time in his life, the great Gilbert Beilschmidt realized what it felt like to be defeated.

"I hope Lovino is okay," Feliciano fretted, wringing his hands as he sat with Ludwig out under the sun. That was his favorite place to be, and he in fact needed to be there at the moment. Being outdoors relaxed him, and this day had been anything but relaxing.

Ever since that awful nightmare, he couldn't seem to completely calm himself. The added stress of his brother's odd, reclusive behavior that day wasn't doing much to help. Being near Ludwig helped a lot. He felt totally safe. Ludwig was strong and brave, and even if he didn't really want to admit it, he was actually a very kind person.

"What about you?" Ludwig asked, letting that kindness show a bit. "Are you alright?"

He seemed to be still concerned about that episode during the wee hours of the morning. Horrifying, painful images swirled through Feliciano's thoughts. Cold water, dark water, waters that buried people he knew and cared for. Leaving him behind while it washed the others away. He shuddered, blinked, and prayed for the scary scene to just leave him alone. It wouldn't go away –not completely. The haunting memory of it was still there, ricocheting though the back of his mind, popping up when he least expected it. It was really going to ruin his day.

"Did you hear me?"

The quaking Italian finally realized that he'd left Ludwig hanging.

"I…I'm okay," he said slowly. Being the terrible liar that he was, Ludwig knew he wasn't okay before he even answered.

"It's that dream isn't it? It's still bothering you."

Reluctantly, Feliciano nodded. He felt like he was troubling Ludwig, but at the same time, he couldn't control the fear that pumped into his system when he had so much as a single thought about that dream. The German sighed and Feliciano was pleasantly surprised when he felt a heavy hand rest on his tuft of auburn hair. It was supposed to be a comforting gesture, or so he guessed. Even if it might've been an awkward attempt, Feliciano responded as if it were the most relaxing action in the world. He was subdued by it; reassured.

"I understand. I…used to have nightmares too." Ludwig admitted.

"Really? You?" Feliciano couldn't imagine someone like Ludwig ever being afraid of a silly dream, but apparently it was possible!

"W-When I was younger, of course," Ludwig hastily added.

Feliciano gazed up into his eyes, perplexed as they stared at empty space, remembering. "What did you dream about?" he had to know.

Ludwig blinked a few times and shook his head, then turned toward his roommate with a gentle, tired expression on his face. "Maybe I'll tell you that…some other time."

"Go away. I don't want to talk to you."

The words cut like knives; nine tiny yet lethally sharp knives slicing into Antonio's chest. Lovino said stuff like this all the time. What made it better was that he never actually meant it. Antonio could tell when Lovino was being honest.

"That's too bad," the Spaniard replied, forcing his way inside Lovino's quarters. He'd been holed up in there all day. Feliciano had tried to coax him out, but it was no use.

"I'm not upset about what you said last night," Antonio explained. He knew that was at least part of the reason Lovino was shying away.

"Well that's good for you, you damn bastard. I'm glad you're not upset!"

Lovino sat heavily on his bunk and stared at his life-long companion, who was still hovering by the door, careful and apprehensive. What the hell was going on? Lovino had just lost his cool so suddenly, and for apparently no reason. Antonio hadn't meant to do anything that aggravated or confused Lovino. Now all he had to do was convince the distressed brunette across from him of this.

"If you came here to apologize, just forget about it. I don't know why I said those things. Doesn't matter now," Lovino broke the thoughtful silence.

Antonio shook his head, saying, "I know you're still upset. I want to talk about it."

Lovino's eyes narrowed in objection to Antonio's idea.

"Look…can I come over there?" Antonio motioned to the room in general; anywhere a bit closer would suffice. When the irritable Italian said nothing, Antonio took it as a yes and sat down on the edge of the bunk. For a moment, he felt nostalgic, reminded of days long gone, back when they were kids. They used to sit like this together, talking late into the night.

Antonio shook his head and cleared the thoughts away. "Tell me what's going on, Lovino."

Lovino stared at him. His eyes were, for the first time Antonio could recall, contemplative. He was thinking hard. Then the eyes rolled down to the floor, up to the ceiling. He spoke: "I just feel like I'm a burden to you sometimes. I feel like you get sick of taking me with you everywhere. And I don't know if that's true, and I can't tell from the way you act…so…" Lovino trailed off and avoided looking into Antonio's eyes.

He felt knives again. Lovino's words hurt because Antonio knew those brothers needed him, and he didn't mind. They weren't a burden; they were the most important people in his life. Even if Lovino was obnoxious or inconvenient at times, Antonio could never abandon him! If he was doing something for Lovino's sake, it didn't matter what happened!

"No, that's not true!" Antonio said sternly, holding Lovino by the shoulders. "I swear."

Silence.

Antonio studied Lovino's face carefully, and slowly, something began to dawn on him. It was a small idea at first, but the longer he stared, the longer he gazed into Lovino's eyes, the more it grew.

"W-What are you looking at, bastard?" Lovino asked nervously.

And Antonio smiled. Bastard. He'd said it, but he didn't mean it. Just like always. The beginning of a revelation continued growing. Antonio relaxed his grip and sighed deeply. "Lovino, listen to me. First of all, you're not a burden and I'm not mad with you."

Lovino nodded slowly as a response.

"And so, I promise right nowthat you and your brother won't ever be left alone."

Lovino swallowed hard. "H-How can you prove it? What if I don't believe you?"

Stubborn as always. That was frustrating. Lovino was frustrating! He was crude and irrational and dependent! And yet…Antonio felt like he'd do anything for him.

"Because…Lovino…I want you to be happy, okay? I really…I really…"

The emotions that Antonio had tried so long to understand finally made sense, and now that they had a name and a purpose, he couldn't control them. Not even for another second.

"Because I…"

Lovino watched him, but said nothing. He didn't try to push him away. Their faces drew closer.

"I…"

They were so close that Antonio could feel Lovino's nervous breaths as his sudden impulse pulled them closer. He couldn't speak anymore. He didn't want to, and there was no need. He pressed their lips together, lightly at first, gentle and cautious. Lovino hardly moved, but since he wasn't pulling away, Antonio took it as a good sign.

He continued, shifting his arms from Lovino's shoulders down to his back. He leaned forward, and heard a light clunk sound when Lovino's head hit the wall. He gave a slight whimper, but still didn't pull away. Antonio nipped his lip playfully before shifting forward, draping his body more closely around Lovi's. For a few more sweet seconds, the caress went on. Then Lovino broke away, as if awaking from a dream.

He moved his face away, gasping for breath. "Stop it," he choked. At first, Antonio couldn't help himself. His lips grazed Lovino's neck lightly with the hopes that he'd change his mind. The Italian gasped again, though Antonio wasn't sure if it was with pleasure or surprise. "Stop it!" he repeated, and started to shove Antonio away.

The Spaniard complied right away. He threw himself back, trying to clear himself out of the dazed state the kiss had left him in. "Lovi…I…I'm sorry…" he stuttered. What was he thinking, doing something like that out of the blue?

Lovino didn't say a word. He just stared, his cheeks stained dark red and his eyes wide with shock.

Antonio stood up and searched his mind for words, but there was nothing he could say now. "Damn it!" he hissed, and he ran for the door before Lovino could speak.

What have I done? Antonio wondered miserably.

This is another one of those chapters. I did my best on it and edited everything that I wanted to be edited, but there's something about it that I just...don't like. Hopefully it's me being overly-critical of myself. Tell me what you think, faithful readers :D