Chapter 10

October 26th 1945

New York City

When he opened his eyes the next day, he was so sure everything had been (and still was) a dream. There was no way the person next to him was Rocinante. But even though he had forgotten everything, he would know that breathing pattern anywhere. His brother lay next to him, wearing a shirt which Doflamingo recognized as his own. His face was bruised and there were traces of blood still left. Just like last time, he was hit by the feeling of guilt and regret. Only, it wasn't that strong this time. Not because he thought Rocinante deserved the beating. There was another reason, but he couldn't find it.

Doflamingo reached out a hand to touch the scars on his face. Both to make sure he was real, and as a sort of apology. As if a soft touch could undo it all.

He had so many questions buzzing around in his head. But they all drowned under a sea of guilt. At first, Doflamingo didn't understand why he should be feeling this guilty. Sure, he had hit Rocinante, but that wasn't enough to cause such a strong feeling. His fingers rested on the scars on his brother's face. The smile-scars, made for him and him alone. Rocinante was awake, he could tell by the way he breathed, but the mute hadn't opened opened his eyes yet. A part of him was afraid of looking into them, for what would he see? The memory of how they had looked yesterday was faint already.

He removed his hand, and realized why he felt so guilty.

It was because a part of him wasn't happy to see Rocinante. A part of him had wanted him dead.

Why? Why the hell would he want his own brother dead? Oh, but he knew the answer. If Rocinante wasn't in his life anymore, then everything would be easier. He had been doing fine on his own. And he had had a hope that the feelings would soon go away, yes, perhaps they had even begun to disappear. Doflamingo knew what these feelings, these emotions were. He even knew the word for them, but he would never say it or even think it.

Doflamingo looked at his brother, lying there with his bruised, scarred face. A soft smile rested upon his lips, and he looked so calm. Like he was finally home after a long journey. Doflamingo dragged in a sharp breath as the feelings kept pushing to get free. As they tried to move his hands again. But he wouldn't let them.

Rocinante opened his eyes to Doflamingo's breath, and their eyes met again. Doflamingo didn't know it, but, his eyes were different than before. Of course, the fire damage to his left one had changed it, but that wasn't the main difference. They were even colder than before, and something was off. Something none of them could put a finger on. Doflamingo looked away. He didn't want to poison the summer day with his disgusting emotions. Never before had he been so sure that there was something wrong with him. Maybe he was sick? Maybe he should go see a doctor? But what would he tell them? That he was-

Maybe it was time he spoke? Rocinante was the mute one, not him. They hadn't seen each other for years, and then when they were finally reunited, Doflamingo had hit him. He suddenly remembered that he had said what he had been meaning to say the day they parted.

I love you too.

But could Rocinante understand the weight of those words? Did his younger brother even remember how they had used to be? Or had he forgotten, just like Doflamingo?

Doflamingo cleared his throat with an unpleasant, raspy sound.

"Where have you been?" Such a trivial question, and did the answer even matter? Doflamingo didn't want to think about the past. He wanted to start anew, and leave it all behind. Especially these emotions that he had forgotten, but now tried to find their way back into his body and mind.

Of course, the other didn't answer. He didn't even look around for a pencil or anything like that. His eyes just rested on Doflamingo, a tiny hint of tiredness visible in them. And then Doflamingo was trapped in a hug, as Rocinante squeezed their bodies together. Heart against hearts. Doflamingo's was racing necessarily fast, and if it hadn't been for the fact that he knew Rocinante would never understand such things, he would've been afraid the heartbeat would give it away. The unspeakable emotions.

Rocinante never answered the question, like he knew Doflamingo didn't want to hear. They just lay in the bed, tangled together in a tight embrace. Well, the youngest was the only one doing the hugging, but that didn't really matter. In the past, being close to his brother would calm Doflamingo, but not anymore. His heartbeat quickened by the second, and his body was warm and his skin probably a little sticky from sweat. A huge part of him knew he should push the other away. Of course he should! This didn't make anything better. But then there was the part of him that needed this so badly. The part that never wanted Rocinante to let go.

It was raining outside.

Why is it always raining?

Doflamingo wondered about that. He couldn't remember a single sunny day, not since that man in the uniform had told him Rocinante was dead. That was the day he had forgotten everything. He had thought that was for the best, but now that Rocinante and the feelings were back, he felt more crushed than ever before. Was he even going to be able to handle this?

Rocinante's hand pushed up into his hair. He had cut it not long ago, and he didn't believe Roci would comment on it. He was a man of no words after all. Speaking of change, the body next to him seemed different. Sharper angles and harder bones. He had lost weight, no doubt, but he didn't seem weak. Doflamingo wondered which one of them was the physically strongest. Why would he wonder about that? He wasn't a kid anymore, and had lost a lot of his competitive nature.

"You've lost weight." Doflamingo said, and found it easier to speak this time. After he had forgotten everything, he hadn't really been around people anymore. He hadn't talked to people unless he had to, and never seeked out company. But now, he remembered that he once found Rocinante to be the easiest person in the world to talk to. Perhaps building the timemachine wasn't impossible after all.

"My eye isn't any better, but at least it doesn't look so fucked up anymore." At least this time he got a reaction from the other, cause Rocinante pulled away to look at his face. Indeed, his left eye was just pale, like fog had come to cover half a winter day.

Rocinante's index finger was cold as it trailed over the faded burnt marks on his face. They were hardly visible anymore, and not sensitive to touch at all, and yet he had to stop himself from moving away. Though, Rocinante's other hand pushed against the back of his head, preventing him from escaping.

"What do you think? Not so bad, huh?" Well, maybe Rocinante thought it was ugly still. And maybe he even blamed himself for it. Doflamingo still did, but he had scarred Rocinante's face too, so maybe this was just the way it was meant to turn out.

His breathing pattern changed, and he began to breathe through his mouth when Rocinante moved his face closer. Someone's breath tickled his lips. A tiny sound of surprise escaped him when his brother kissed his ruined eye. His mouth, just like the rest of his body, was cold. In that moment, he could've sworn he could hear Rocinante's thoughts;

You're still beautiful.

But that was just for a moment. When he pulled away, he wasn't so sure anymore. His heart was skyrocketing, and he had to tell himself to calm down. It was just a small token of affection from someone who hadn't seen him in years. He had to get rid of these feelings, no matter what it took. Even if he had to-

He pushed Rocinante away with a rather forceful movement. The mute sat up with a confused look on his face, and then, just because he was very clumsy, he fell backwards and landed on the floor. When the body of the other wasn't next to him anymore, he regretted his actions, but only for a second. When the other couldn't see, he wiped the sweat of his forehead, and took a few deep breaths. He had never dreamed about his brothers return, but even if he had, he never would've thought he would have such a strong reaction to seeing him again. This was just getting completely out of control, and it could only end badly. For him, for them both, because this wasn't right.

Rocinante stood up from the floor. He was still wearing his own pants, and there were some traces of blood on them. He looked at Doflamingo, and seemed to be deep in thought. Doflamingo had a nervous feeling of being interrogated, and the other wasn't even saying anything. He really had to calm down.

"Maybe you're hungry? You can go check the kitchen if you want to." The younger brother stood there for another minute, before he nodded and did as bid.

He got out of bed as soon at the other was out of sight, and looked down on his body. He felt disgusted with himself, and the expression on his face clearly showed that.

"I'm going to take a shower, help yourself to whatever you feel like."

It was ages since he had taken a shower this cold, but it was refreshing. He shivered slightly, and rubbed his face. He was so fucking lucky that Rocinante hadn't noticed anything. But that dense man probably never would. He didn't understand these things. Hell, Doflamingo didn't understand them himself. Why was he feeling like this around his- He banged his head against the wall to stop the trail of thoughts. He didn't want this. He couldn't have his brother around if it was going to be like this. He would have to ask him to leave.

But they had just reunited! They had been apart for so long. And, most important of all; they belonged together.

Doflamingo just stayed in the shower for minutes after he had turned off the water. The air was cold and it made him shiver even more, and goosebumps covered him all over, but he didn't move. It was very sad that it had come to this, but he really didn't have a choice, as far as he could see. If only Rocinante had been dead.

No. He was glad he was alive.

Or was he?

Was he?

Am I?

I don't know anymore!

He smashed his fist against the wall, and forced the cry of pain to remain in his throat. Only a strangled growl escaped him.

When he came out of the bathroom, drying his hair off with a towel, Rocinante was sitting on the bed, eating a bun. It was three days old, and couldn't possibly be tasty. But the mute seemed happy about it. He tilted his head to the side, and looked at his older brother. Doflamingo had put on pants, but no shirt, since those were kept in another closet. God, his brother looked so innocent when he just sat there like that, eating with that happy look on his face. Maybe he should let him stay a little longer? But wouldn't that only make it worse? Indeed, the best was to just tell him to leave as soon as possible, before he could remember anything else. Rocinante was supposed to be dead, and if he wasn't going to live the rest of his life as a sick, twisted person, he would have to remain dead.

"Roci, listen..." He didn't know how to continue. He cursed himself for using his nickname, it just made them seem that much closer.

You can't stay here.

I can't be around you.

You make me-

"That bun is three days old, isn't it distasteful? I have some cookies if you want something sweet." In the end, he just couldn't do it. He couldn't. He turned away from his brother, and swallowed hard. After that, he went into the kitchen and got him a cookie. He had gotten them from the lady who lived next doors as a welcoming-new-neighbours-thing, but he hadn't touched them. He wasn't too fond of sweets.

When he returned, Rocinante had finished the bun, and was wearing an eager smile. He reached out his hand for a cookie, which was handed to him.

"You're still such a kid. When are you going to grow up?" Doflamingo chuckled. Jesus, how long was it since he had smiled? A million years maybe? He sat next down to the other, and put a hand on his head. Damn, his hair was soft. Much softer than his own, and rather long now too. It was still a mess, just like it had always been. Okay, now he was getting way too nostalgic.

"Do you like them? I have a whole jar." The mute nodded with the cookie between his teeth. Doflamingo shivered again. "You took my favorite shirt." It was a joke, but Rocinante didn't catch that, and began to unbutton it. "No, you can keep it. I was just kidding." But he continued with the buttons, and pulled the shirt off. "Seriously, just keep it-" He suddenly went silent when he saw his brother's skin.

It was covered in different scars. Sure, he had had some scars to begin with from when he was a kid, but not like this. Rocinante was smiling, but Doflamingo didn't see that. He was too busy looking at his chest, and then his back. "Fucking Christ, Roci... What the hell happened to you?" It looked like someone had had a lot of fun cutting him up. Now Rocinante's expression changed to worry. "Who did this to you?" He wasn't really expecting an answer. The younger tipped his head forward, looking down on the floor, like he was embarrassed for some reason, or maybe worried.

No wonder Rocinante didn't have a problem with how his left eye looked. This was just so much worse.

But Doflamingo didn't care about these scars. They didn't repel him, and in some way, he wished that they did. But to him, his brother wasn't any different than before. "So this is what happens when I'm not there to look after you?" Rocinante looked up again, a small hope lighting up behind his eyes. What had he been worried about in the first place? "You're such a silly little brother." Now the younger was smiling, and he dropped his head on Doflamingo's shoulder, letting out a small breath of... Relief? Maybe. Doflamingo wasn't sure.

They sat there for a while. Doflamingo was listening to Rocinante's breathing, and the younger one was listening to... Well, who knew. Maybe the sound of the fading rain, which was currently battling the sun. In the end, the sunlight won, and it shone inside the small apartment.

Rocinante stood up, and gestured towards the door.

"You want to go out?" Doflamingo asked. He had to get back into routine with his brother not speaking. It wasn't always easy to know what the mute wanted. But this time, it seemed Doflamingo was right in his guess, since the younger one nodded eagerly. "Why do you want to go out?" Why would anyone want that? The city was full of people who he didn't care about, and never would. People who would pass him, remaining forever strangers. They had no part in his life. Rocinante pointed at the door again, and Doflamingo yielded. "Fine. If you really want to. God, you're such a child." Rocinante shook his head, clearly arguing on the child-thing. Doflamingo just rolled his eyes, and they both got dressed for the outdoors.

They made such an odd pair when they walked down the street, which was getting more and more crowded now that the rain had stopped. People going to work, or maybe home. People going shopping or to see a friend. They were all sort of blurry to Doflamingo, and the only thing he focused on was his brother.

It was clear to everyone who looked upon them that they were brothers. Their years apart had only made them look more similar. Doflamingo was used to people staring at him because of his bad eye, which he still refused to cover up with an eyepatch. But now that he was walking next to Roci, people were looking more at his younger brother than him. Well, maybe because his face had more scars. He couldn't tell if they were looking at his smile-scars or the thick one across his neck. As people walked past them, they had a lot of different faces. Some looked like they pitied Rocinante, some looked disgusted by him. Some couldn't turn their gaze away, and some even looked proud. It was obvious that they all saw him as a war veteran. Doflamingo had never thought he would miss the staring, but right now, he did. Because when people looked at Rocinante instead of him, it was like his efforts during the war was nothing. Like Rocinante had done more than him. Which was the truth, though he wouldn't admit that.

They passed a group of children, who should've been at school in Doflamingo's opinion. They stared more than anyone so far.

"Were you in the war, sir?" One of them asked, the question directed at Rocinante. An annoyed frown flew across Doflamingo's face, and he just wanted to continue walking, but the other had stopped. Roci nodded, pointed at himself, and then put his hands together, making a butterfly. The kids didn't seem to care that their new hero couldn't talk, they just looked at him with big eyes. "You were a pilot, sir?" Rocinante nodded, and smiled proudly, before he let the butterfly crash on an imaginary ground, and then he pointed at himself. "Did you crash, sir?" The children were now completely drawn into the story, which wasn't even a story. Doflamingo felt himself going more and more irritated. Rocinante nodded yet again, and held two fingers up. "Twice?! Did you crash twice, sir?"

"Don't you children have anything better to do than annoy us? Run along to school or something." The authority which had always lived in Doflamingo's voice was still there, perhaps even more present than ever. The kids looked at Rocinante for another second, before they ran away.

"I fucking hate children." Doflamingo muttered, mostly to himself, and then he looked at Rocinante, who looked pretty disappointed for some reason. Doflamingo understood why, and he figured that he might actually be a horrible, selfish person. Why wouldn't he allow Roci to have a moment of pride?

Because he was jealous, of course.

"Come on. I can buy you something sweet from the shop over here, if you want to." Speaking of children, he figured he treated his brother like a child too. The mute smiled, and nodded, but there was still a hint of disappointment hanging over his features. He didn't like to see him like this, but he couldn't help that he was such a selfish person. He had always been this way.

It started raining a little bit when they walked back from the store. Rocinante didn't seem to notice, too busy with his small bag of fruit caramells. They had been pretty expensive, but they had been the first thing Roci had pointed at in the store, so of course, Doflamingo had bought them for him. In the past, Doflamingo remembered that he had thought walking in silence with his brother was calming and nice, but it wasn't right now. He was still feeling bad about the dealings with the kids, but that wasn't the main issue. Silence meant he got the time to think, and he really shouldn't be doing that. Thinking was dangerous, because then he could remember. The truth was, he had remembered ever since yesterday. He had remembered just how his brother made him feel.

"How do you like New York?" He asked, just to have a conversation, even if that was impossible. He just didn't want to think. Rocinante shrugged his shoulders. "Me neither. It's so noisy. Do you remember when we were kids, and we went to visit our grandmother's house?" He didn't wait for a reply, since there would be none. "She had that pretty garden, where she grew apples and pears. I remember you were really good at climbing, so you always got us the apples from the top of the tree. They were the best, at least our granny said so." He looked over at Rocinante, who was now blushing. Right, he had just complimented him, which meant he would blush. He wondered if his brother would ever change. Or would he ever change? Would they change together and fall onto different paths? Or maybe that had already happened, and perhaps that was for the best.

"Do you remember, Roci?" He asked, quietly now. The younger nodded. It was pretty much impossible to keep a conversation, and the thoughts kept closing in on him. "Do you miss talking?" The question came out of nowhere, and it was such a surprise to them both that they stopped. Doflamingo rested his gaze on the younger. Rocinante was calm, and his gentle smile was in place. He slowly shook his head. "You don't miss it?" He shook his head again.

Doflamingo missed it. He missed it so much right now. He hadn't felt the need to hear his brother's voice in years, but now the need was there, and it was strong. A voice could give so much away. What a person felt and thought and wanted. Rocinante was so hard to read, and it made everything so difficult for him.

"I really want to talk to you." He admitted. The mute moved his hand like he was writing in the air. "Yes. When we get back to the apartment, I'll get you something to write on. Though you're so slow at it."

They got back to the flat, and as soon as jackets were off and Rocinante had sat down in the small sofa, he got him a notebook and a pencil. He sat next to him, but then he went quiet. There were many things he wanted to ask him, but he didn't know where to start.

"Where have you been these past years?" It didn't really matter, but he had to begin somewhere. The mute raised his hand and did a 'Sieg Heil'. "In Germany?" The other nodded. Well, so much for the notebook.

"Why... Why didn't you send me any letters. Before you were taken captive I mean." His voice was low, just because he felt a little uncomfortable asking about that. He had been looking for the answer forever, and now he was about to get it. Rocinante wrote on the paper, and it took almost two minutes before he was done. Doflamingo waited, and watched as he wrote. His handwriting hadn't changed at all.

"Because you didn't send me any."

Just like he had thought. He really should've sent all those letters, instead of burning them. But he had been afraid. He was still afraid. But who wouldn't be? After all, everything about this was so wrong, and it was all his fault for being such a sick person. A sick person with a hole in his chest and a winter in his eyes.

"I wrote many, but I didn't send them." He mumbled, and wished he hadn't said that.

"Why?" Rocinante wrote.

Yes. That was the question, and he had the answer, but right now he couldn't speak.

"I don't know." He lied. He was a good liar, always had been. But this wasn't just anyone he was trying to deceive. This was his brother. The person who knew him better than anyone, despite being separated for years. He saw right through him.

"Liar." The word on the paper was harsh, but never had anything described Doflamingo better. Indeed, he was a liar. He lied to himself constantly, which was one of the only reasons why he was still somewhat sane. But, it seemed his brother had come to take even that way from him, and push him off the edge and into madness.

"I think I'm sick, Roci." His voice was still quiet, almost dying down so that the nickname was just a quiet breath.

Would his brother understand? A part of him wanted him to. He wanted him to understand, and then find it so repelling that he left. He wanted Rocinante to leave and never return. He never wanted to see that beautiful, gentle smile ever again. He begged for him to understand.

Please, understand.

And then leave me.

But the look on the other's face was utter confusion. And soon, Rocinante's hand was on his forehead, checking for a fever. Of course, his silly, innocent little brother wouldn't understand something like this. He didn't even know if he did so himself, but it had been too much to hope for. Now there was only one thing left. He would have to ask Rocinante to leave, or he would go insane. There was no question about it. Well, there was one question; How? How the hell was he supposed to push his brother out of his life again? Now that he had finally returned...

The cool hand stayed on his forehead for hours and hours and then years. He loved the touch so much, and he never wanted it to end. But it did. He had closed his eyes, and didn't open them before Rocinante poked his shoulder, holding up a note.

"You have a fever." Doflamingo frowned. That wasn't what he had meant by sick. He felt his own forehead. When he thought about it, it did seem a bit hot. So, he was actually coming down with something? Or had all of this just been too much for him?

Perhaps this fever would kill him.

He hoped it would.

It was either death, or he would have to ask his brother to leave him alone. He doubted he would be able to do that.

"Why did you come back, Roci?" He knew that was a very hurtful question to ask, but he needed to know. Rocinante took his hand in his. Cold fingers against sweaty ones, as the mute brought the hand up to his lips, and kissed it. Doflamingo held his breath as soft, slightly cold lips pressed against his skin. "Because you love me." He answered his own question. The younger didn't answer, he just kept holding his hand in his.