Deutsch – English:

Werden sie stolz auf mich? : will they be proud of me?

Vater: Father

"Hast du ihn gesehen? Oh, Gott! Oh, Gott! Was sollen die Nachbarn sagen?" : did you see him? Oh, God. What will the neighbours say?"

"... und wie er wieder aussieht! Löcher in der Hose und ständig dieser Lärm!": and what he looks like! with holes in his pants and listening to this noise!

"..Und dann noch seine Haare! Da fehlen mir die Worte... Musste er die denn färben?": and his hair, too! I have no words... Did he really have to dye it?

"Nie kommt er nach Hause! Ich weiB nicht mehr weiter..." : And he never comes back home! I really don't know what more...

Mutter: Mother

Wo ist dein Bruder?: Where's your brother?

mach auf: open the door!

Ich muss zum Bruder: I have to go to my Brother.

Nein, jetzt kommst du bei mir, dann rufe ich den Arzt an und wenn du untersucht wirst, komm' ich zuruck fur deinen Bruder: no, now you come by me, I'll call a doctor and while he's working, I'll come back or your brother.

Ich hab' kein Geld: I have no money

Schwester: sister

Danke: Thank you!

In and Out

Francis shook his head violently. What a stupid thought. Of course he couldn't make Arthur happy! He needed a calm, sensitive, literate woman and he was nothing but a messy, showy, cunning piece of man. He needed a serene and equilibrated spouse, not a psycho addicted to painkillers. Killed they the pain, at least, he would have some chance, but alas, it wasn't so. They just increased the vibrant rhythm his bleeding wounds would often send to his brain and turned its pleasant repetitions into an obsessive drumming that drove him crazy. Stupid drugs. Stupid pain. Stupid Francis. Would Arthur ever love a messy mass of flesh and bones like him?

No. Of course he wouldn't.

Francis swallowed. He felt a sharp needle piercing through his left lung, deeper and deeper, stinging and cutting until it reached the heart and stopped it. He swallowed harder. He needed air. The heavy water was suddenly falling too fast on his back, a violent storm that brought his breathe away. He needed air, but he couldn't suck any. The muscles of his neck tensed to search for some oxygen, but the rain just kept falling ceaselessly. His legs suddenly got weaker and he fell backwards against the cold wall. He hissed. Air. Life. Cold.

His hands patted the wall behind him in a desperate attempt to lift him, but it was like moving an ancient Greek statue from his place. A white marble statue. The thought of his naked skin turning into a milkier colour, his muscles marvellously tensed into a never-ending quest for perfection, his mind finally free of every worry. What a pleasant prospect for his possible reincarnation. And maybe he would be exposed at the Louvre and every visitor would admire his golden smooth skin and his perfect wavy hair and... his frozen heart. Would he really want to live forever without being able to love? All those people, they would admire him, even compliment on him, but what would he be if nothing but a well-sculpted piece of marble if he couldn't love them back freely and sincerely?

And why, among those unknown blurry faces, could he see a young Arthur, already wearing his green-framed glasses, taking notes like a grown-up when he just appeared to be 14? Arthur... Did he still remember when they went to the Museé d'Orsay and Francis boasted all the time about the great revolutions his people started? Did he ever take their pictures out of the drawer, to see how many changes have taken place?

There's a hint of sadness on Francis' face and Arthur seldom smiles. There's a wicked wrinkle ready to appear in his early 30s, just next to his rose-red lips, and his eyes are getting bloodier and bloodier as the times goes by. And what about the colour of his teeth? The many teacups he keeps on chugging just make them turn always more yellowish. And his breath? A mixture of alcohol, tea and rotten eggs. But it's not too bad. At least, he tries to cover its smell by sucking an insane amount of mint candies. He'll get to the point he'll have toothpaste for dinner, Francis used to say. "At least, he'll have something edible!" He never failed to add. But what was different on his face?

He grabbed a towel and stepped out of the bath-tube. The glimmering drops sparkled like grey pearls on his skin. A perfect lover. He sighed, tilting his head to catch as many details as possible, but he couldn't find any. A scratch under his chin, his stinging stub, his doused hair. Nothing new from his body. Maybe an accent of flab starting to cover his abs, but a couple of hours at the local gym and it would fade away like snow under the sun. If something had changed, maybe Arthur knew.

With a towel wrapped around his head, Francis walked outside the bathroom, leaving wet footprints on the carpeted floor. His body froze when he heard the Brit's voice answering the phone.

"Ludwig? Arthur's speaking. Yeah, that one. Listen, I won't be there on time, today. Yeah, yesterday's storm did- No! Absolutely not! Don't worry, nothing bad happened! It's just- Well, I'll be there for, don't know, half past two? ... Oh, of course, but don't count too much on it, you know what London's streets are like at two in the afternoon! ...What? Oh, no, I couldn't be there at 10.30 even if my life depended on it! ... Well, d'you remember Francis? Tall, blonde... French? Exactly, the one that called your people a bunch of Potato-eating Krautz before offering you a vanilla cigarette. ... Oh, c'me on, it wasn't intentional! Really! ... Nah, he's a good guy. Kinda weird, but who isn't? ... Perfect. Of course, I'll work a couple of hours more, don't worry. ... No, sure I get you don't do this intentionally. ... Ludwig, it's really fine to me to work a couple of extra-hours! Why, do you think I have something exciting to do this evening? ... Bastard. ... What would you do if I accepted the offer? ... Fine, if I manage to finish working before 5 o'clock you'll own me a beer. But if I don't, you'll stay there until the end and let me treat you, got that? ... Yeah. Sure. Fine. See ye, German hell-hound. Bye."

A huff. A smile. Ludwig was really a great boss. Stern, square face. Fussy, military attitude. Warm, caring heart. Being an officer, he couldn't let his guard down, never. This caused him to appear like an old bastard colonel, even if he was just a young cop. Too young, to lead a bunch of disorganised bastards like them. Arthur was nothing more than an archivist, there at Scotland Yard. His body was too frail and his mind too unstable to let him become part of any team. Criminal psychology? 9 years of hard work on insane books for what? For chatting with mad psychopaths, if you ever got the chance to work? And who would pay for his studies? No, if he wanted to be useful to those bobbies, he needed to do something nice, something simple. He organised the archives. Cataloguing clues, looking for documents, organising the drawers and, only sometimes, hiding some paper... Well, that was a work he could do. Nice, clean, simple. From 9 to 5, paid by the State. Oh, yeah.

He sucked a fresh breath of air through his nostrils. What a hellish day. He turned on his heels and went back into the kitchen to dry the dishes. Ludwig was still in his mind. He couldn't believe he had such a kind boss.

He started working at the police station only 2 years ago, but he couldn't step in, that his fame had already created a monster. A Nazi bastard, they used to say. Of course, he hates Jews, he wants us all to die, he's certainly had some relations with the Gestapo, his mother betrayed the family for a KGB spy, his father used to go around murdering innocents like any good Hitler's boot-licking servant and his brother hasn't been around for ages... Surely a dick-head chased by the Interpol. Rumours, rumours, rumours. Arthur didn't believe them. He used to make fun of the whispering voices circulating from office to office with Francis, obtaining sometimes his weak smile in return.

He didn't know what Francis thought of Ludwig. Sure was, that they both respected each other a lot. Yet, he wasn't sure about how much they liked each other's presence... That was why he preferred not having them meet. They would bring up politics and he loved politics just as much as a hammer smashing his toe.

And even though now Ludwig was the greatest boss they had ever had, the prejudices from before never left him. Not only was he "The Nazi", but he was the only one Vash would listen to. Arthur had once managed to overhear a conversation between the two and, surprisingly, they were talking like two good friends. Now, Ludwig could pretend to be the big guy and get everyone's affection, but Vash... Vash was a protective psychotic. This particular behaviour made Arthur so curious, to the point that he expressed his doubts to the Swiss' little sister.

And Lily answered.

When they were left alone, since Vash wasn't of age and had no work, they couldn't buy themselves a house and, of course, the social assistants' proposals implying their separation weren't even taken into consideration. They couldn't be divided. They just couldn't. And so they fled from Switzerland to a better place in the North, where no one knew them and where they would probably find a job.

And here comes Ludwig, a young blond sky-eyed boy, returning home from the Military Academy. A dumb smile on the face and thousands of expectations in his heart. Werden sie stolz auf mich? Was the only question in his mind. He jumped off the train, waving good-bye to his companions, and started walking home under the rain. His Vater couldn't come to the station, but "he is a man, he can walk under those stupid raindrops, can't he?" Was the only question he asked before cutting the line. He didn't sound too happy, Ludwig noticed, but he didn't worry. His Vater surely had something more interesting to do instead of listening to his complains. Keep silent and march on, hadn't he learned his lesson? And imagining the warm fireplace, the luminous living room, the bright faces of his parents and relatives, he headed on towards home, until he ran into a young blonde. Without arguing, he lifted her from the pavement with his strong arms, excused himself raising his wet cap and walked past her quickly, not hearing the weak voice calling behind him.

The tower sang his gloomy song. He was late, incredibly late. His quick steps turned into a frenetic dance, heading on and on against every difficulty. Home. In his mouth, this word tasted like black bread and butter and honey and warm coffee. Home. Family. Vater. His Vater would be proud of him. Of course he would, he was the best at the Academy and he had that letter in his pocket. A degree. A smile plastered on his face. Victory. Nothing had a better flavour.

A luminous light was waiting for him outside the window, ready to welcome him in its splendour once he had found the courage to ring the bell and step inside, there, among his parents and relatives and... brother.

"Bruder..." He managed to say, when a smaller figure crept by his side, dashing outside the house and disappearing in the alley next to the building. Screams. Insults. Mutter.

"Hast du ihn gesehen? Oh, Gott! Oh, Gott! Was sollen die Nachbarn sagen?"

Mutter...

"... und wie er wieder aussieht! Löcher in der Hose und ständig dieser Lärm!"

A crash. Bruder's CDs.

"..Und dann noch seine Haare! Da fehlen mir die Worte... Musste er die denn färben?"

Mutter, don't cry...

"Nie kommt er nach Hause! Ich weiB nicht mehr weiter..."

"Mutter..."

Everybody turned. Ludwig.

Vater stood up, sternly and strongly. His serious expression would never betray his thoughts. "Ludwig. Wo ist dein Bruder?"

'Bruder? I don't know, Vater. He ran away, he escaped again, you know he's not ready to live. Vater, don't look at me with those eyes, I really don't know. Vater, don't scream, Mutti is already chocking on her tears. Let me comfort her, let me go near her. Where is my brother? Where is he? I want him next to me, Vater. But you can only look at me with those stern, strict look and scold me once again. I'm sorry, Vater. Neither this time, I could make you proud of me.'

Vater was still screaming at him for being an insensible brother, not even stopping his own blood from running away, not even caring for his heart-broken mother and standing still in the hallway without moving a muscle nor reacting, when the bell rang.

"MACH AUF!" Vater ordered with a military gesture, sending Ludwig to the door.

The bell rang again. Vater growled. Ludwig opened the door.

"Guten Abend..." Said the timid trembling voice of a pretty girl. Ludwig's eyes recognized the frail frame in front of him. The same girl from before. Why did she follow him?

"Guten Abend." He looked puzzled, as she offered him a small envelope, which revealed itself to be a small leather wallet. Without saying a word, Ludwig took it from her hands and explored every small detail of the black object like he had never seen it before. His wallet. Had he been so stupid to leave it behind? Suddenly, he remembered about the girl, but when his eyes managed to arise from the lucid leather in his hands, no-one was to be seen.

Vater screeched again, but Ludwig couldn't hear it, running down the streets as fast as he could in search of a pretty blonde. She had returned an empty wallet, the bastard.

The monotonous song of the rain falling, the creepy blowing of the wind through the branches, his quick steps on the ground, a tingling noise. Ludwig turned suddenly, attracted by the noise like a wolf is attracted by fresh meat. A small shadow rushing to the end of a lane. Her steps fast and delicate like those of a ballerina. There she was. Running madly so as not to get caught, she ran, she ran, she ran, but Ludwig was a too well-trained soldier and surely he wouldn't let a young thief trick him so easily.

He dashed towards her like a predator and once she was close enough, his hands clenched around her wrists. As the pull was too sudden and strong, the young girl lost balance and fell into his arms, not able to free herself. Ludwig immediately tightened the grip around her weak body, guessing that she would have escaped otherwise. But she did not.

She stayed there in his arms, calm and silent like a dead leaf. She quivered slightly, neither saying a word nor caring about her slow breath forming humid clouds in front of her nose. Chastely, she pressed herself against his chest, unconsciously looking for more warmth.

When Ludwig took her in his arms to carry her home with him, her only reaction was. "Ich muss zum Bruder." Still, looking at her pretty face under the light of the lamppost, Ludwig noticed her violet lips, turning bluer thanks to the winter, and decided otherwise.

"Jetzt kommst du mit mir." He answered, shaking his head softly. But the girl stubbornly replied.

"Ich muss zum Bruder." Ludwig stared at the frail body in his arms. There was no life in her red-circled eyes, only an incredible sufferance. And tears. Tears forming, tears falling, cold, bitter tears. "Bitte. Ich muss zum Bruder geh-" She coughed. Harshly, violently, repeatedly. She coughed blood.

"Nein, jetzt kommst du bei mir, dann rufe ich den Arzt an und wenn du untersucht wirst, komm' ich zuruck fur deinen Bruder." Ludwig stated coldly, walking faster and faster towards his house, that had now appeared to the side of the street. She needed a doctor, not an irresponsible brother.

The girl's eyes quivered. "Ich hab' kein Geld..." Money. Why do they always care about money? He was helping her, he would surely pay for her, why was she so scared? Ludwig decided it was better off not to answer and stomped into the mansion. His parents were still discussing about his Bruder, therefore he soon made up his mind on what to do with the young child.

Stepping up the stairs, he carried her to his own bedroom, to his bed, moved the blankets and left her with the delicacy of an elephant on his bed, before dashing out of the room, locking her inside and reaching for the telephone to dial the doctor's number.

Their quick conversation was interrupted by an insistent knocking at the door, to which Ludwig's Vater answered with a well-said German insult. But the knocking didn't stop, it only became angrier.

Ludwig thanked the doctor and stepped downstairs to the front door. He calmed his Vater with a rigid order, stroke a military pose in front of the door and got ready for a fight, as his hand reached or the handle to reveal who was hiding behind it. He slowly opened it, when an officer stepped inside.

He didn't even say hello, that he threw in a smirking handcuffed albino. He kicked him in the stomach, insulted his well-known parents, glared at Ludwig's bewildered look and left, leaving a note behind.

"Hallo, Lud." The young man stated with a rash, ill voice. He smelled of smoke, weed, alcohol. His face had gotten more yellowish than the last time and his teeth had kept on rotting. Even the inside of his eyes wasn't pure and clean any more: there was some fog inside his red globes that prevented them from shining brightly.

"Gilbert..." Disgusted, Ludwig refused to offer him a hand and moved away, to let their Vater come closer and take him to another room. Gilbert stared as his Bruder climbed the stairs sternly without looking back. The sad look in his eyes betrayed his false strictness.

When he was eventually upstairs, Ludwig knocked at the white door, waiting for an answer before entering. A whisper helped him make up his mind and so he pushed the handle. Lily was still in the bed, her chest raising and falling at a slow pace. The soldier closed the door behind them, shutting the light out. Now, only the faint light of the city entered his window.

He tip-toed to his desk and took place on the chair, wondering whether he should wait for the doctor outside. The little girl kept breathing in front of him. He smiled. He felt kind of better now that he had helped such a pretty creature. The thought that he had never done a thing for all the suffering around him didn't hit him the slightest, as the mere idea of being a good citizen now made him feel extremely proud of himself. He tilted his head to the side, still lost in his thoughts, when a clacking sound caught his attention and a sharp cold blade pressed against his throat made him come back to reality.

He could do nothing against the shadow that was now whispering at him in a thick Swiss accent. What did he want? Why did he take her away? No. The shadow simply required: "Will you help me cure my Schwesterlein?"

As soon as Ludwig nodded, the blade was moved aside. When he turned, a dirty trembling boy was staring with the eyes full of desperation and sorrow. Really? He asked naively, receiving another nod in reply. He grimaced, before he cried out a "Danke!" on bursting into tears, letting his body fall on the floor. "Danke... Danke..." He kept on repeating, his voice cracking and trembling, while he tried to hide his for too-long hidden tears behind his crusty hands.

Ludwig stared at him without breathing, before kneeling in front of him and taking him in his arms. His sobbing was piercing through his flesh, cutting his insides and weakening his spirit. He was giving hope to a desperate boy, why did he feel so hopeless in return?

In the end, the doctor came. The visit startled Ludwig's mother, but he reassured her in time. Fortunately, the Swiss guy was skinny enough to fit in the closet and the doctor quick and efficient enough to make a diagnosis in no time. He gave Ludwig medicines, recipes, a correct diet for the girl and disappeared without asking who she was. Yet, now Ludwig cared.

After explaining his mother why there was an ill blonde in his bedroom, he returned to sit by the girl's side and let her brother out. Silently, they moved to the kitchen, where Ludwig offered the stranger a warm dish and a warm blanket. Taking a beer for himself, he sat in front of him and tried to start a conversation. Something not easy for the both of them. And yet, after asking for his name, age, origins, they both felt incredibly at ease.

They discussed sincerely all night long, until they decided it was better to go to sleep. Vash could sleep on the sofa in Ludwig's room, whereas Ludwig would move to Gilbert's bed. He was sure he wouldn't come around until midday.

"What happened then?" Arthur asked, eager to know more.

"Well, since we needed money, Ludwig decided to enter the police and Vash made a try, too. He didn't have a degree, though, so he couldn't become more than a bobby. And, Ludwig was so nice that he let us stay with him and his family until I was finally able to breathe normally!" Lily explained with a voice full of gratitude.

"What a generous guy is our boss, isn't he?" Arthur remarked sarcastically.

"He is." Lily concluded. "He surely is. He gave us a home, food, a job! We were like brothers to him! We own him a lot, Arthur. So please, don't make stupid jokes any more. He is really the best." And with that, she turned and went back to her documents.

But Arthur had still a question or her. "What about his brother?"

Lily froze. With a cold, distant voice she replied. "What brother?"

Arthur frowned. Of course she knew who they were talking about! "Ludwig's! He had a brother, didn't he?" Lily cleared her throat, straightened her back, licked her lips. "Lily?" She sucked a good mouthful of fresh air and answered.

"When we came in, he disappeared."

End Ch. 11

In and out: for a thing you dedicate time to, there are others you're neglecting. That's why we grow differently: because we decide to devote time differently to different things.

And now, a special THANK YOU to you, readers. You're the reason why I'm keeping on writing this stuff and why it'll soon get more interesting. BUT I needed to introduce Gilbert. He'll become part of the story in the future and I needed a way to insert him in the story.

THANK YOU, because you keep on reading, faving, commenting. Thank you, because you support me even if this stuff is long, boring and gets updated once in a blue moon. Thank you, because every word you leave behind make me somewhat happier. I'll answer all the messages, I just wanted to finish this thing first. Really, THANK YOU.