Ciao everybody! :D
How are you all? I hope good!
Oh, and I also hope you'll like this chapter (because I personally don't...!)
Next chapter will be much better, I promise... BWAHAHAHAHA!
Ahem. Onto the current chapter, folks... ;P (warning, long rant at end of chapter!)
Please sit back, und ENJOY...!
Antonio was taking a relaxed stroll through the many alleys of Palermo. He had been walking quite a lot, actually. Hours. Mostly because he had the nasty habit of getting lost easily. So why take strolls, at night especially? The answer was simple, he just liked walking a lot. It relaxed him, and it left him ample time to think.
He had been thinking about Ludwig and Vargas. The German was sometimes acting odd, when talking about the Mafioso. Was he getting too attached to Italy? Was the plan going too far? It could be a good thing, no?
While musing on these thoughts, he continued walking through the deserted streets, when suddenly he heard a gunshot and a cry echo through the night.
Immediately, he was alert. He swiftly changed direction he was walking to and turned to his right, where the sound had come from. Half running, half walking, he tried to reach the destination. In the meantime, thoughts and hypothesises were already raging inside his detective head.
Who had shot, and why? Was it a mugger? A thief? A fight gone too far? Self defence? A drunkard? A killer?
…Mafia?
Corner after corner, heading to whatever place the gunshot had come from, he realized he was getting closer to the hospital. An uneasy feeling started building itself in the pit of his stomach, as if it were knotting itself up. Oh, he had a bad feeling about this…
He turned the umpteenth corner, and found himself in a long alley, light coming from the not too far away hospital at the end of said alley. He heard the sound of screeching tires of a car speeding away, and he saw a body crumpled on the floor.
"Oh no…" he breathed.
He hurried over to the person, hoping that the worst hadn't happened yet. If that hadn't happened, it would be easy, they were near a hospital, after all.
First, he quickly got to the end of the alley and looked left and right in the street. There was no one in sight, the assaulter had already left. Antonio cursed himself. It had probably been that car he had heard leaving moments before.
He ran back and skidded to a halt near the body. He went on his knees and hovered over him. The man was lying down on his left side, he couldn't see his face. Antonio grabbed his shoulder and turned so he would be facing him, and had the scare of his life. His eyes went wide, as he stared at the blond under him.
Ludwig?!
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…! Why the hell was he even here?! He was supposed to be sleeping in the hotel!
He quickly noticed there was some blood by the left side of his head, a grazed wound that was already turning into a purple bump. He checked for bullet wounds anywhere, but he couldn't find anything. Relief filled his chest up as he sighed. Somebody had simply bludgeoned him with something… he was only unconscious. But who had shot, then? And why? He saw a gun some meters away on the ground, and noticed it was a foreign model. Probably Ludwig's. Had he shot, trying to defend himself?
He stood up and went to pick up the gun. He tentatively felt the barrel and the hole with his fingers.
No. It was still cold. Ludwig hadn't shot. The assaulter had? But why not shoot at Ludwig? Had he missed? Or had it been unintentional?
He tried to remember the cry he had heard. It hadn't been Ludwig's voice, which was much too deep. So Ludwig had reacted, and the assaulter had cried out.
He tried to rebuild the scene in his mind.
The assaulter had had a gun, and had seen his prey. Ludwig's back had probably been turned to him, as the German was probably looking at the hospital. It seemed more plausible than looking at a dark alley.
So, the assaulter had creeped up to the German, and poked him with his gun, threatening or ordering something. What could he have asked? Money? Probably. But wasn't Ludwig already well-known in Palermo to be a dear buddy of Italy? It had probably been to dark to notice, he assumed.
Ludwig would have reacted by spinning around and hitting the assaulter that had been standing too close or in a not perfect position, and the trigger would have been unintentionally pulled. The assaulter had cried out at that. Ludwig would have tried to get his own gun out, but would have been disarmed.
So, there would have been a stalled situation. Not really, since one was holding a gun and the other not.
But the thing he couldn't explain was the blow to the head. The position of the wound was on the side of the German's head, yet slightly behind at the same time. So there had been an accomplice, maybe? That had snuck behind the German to knock him out?
He checked Ludwig's pockets. They were still full. He had his wallet, his watch… even an expensive-looking camera. Antonio frowned. If the assaulter hadn't looked for money… what then…?
He helped up Ludwig a little so his back would lean against the wall of the alley. He gently patted the German's cheeks. Once he woke up, he would tell him everything that had happened, and everything would be clear.
"Hey, Luuuudwig," he called out mockingly. "Wake up, sleepy head!"
The blond groaned.
"Luuuuuuuuuudwiiiiig…" He continued whining, pecking his cheeks.
Again, a groan. "Stop it, Gil…" A murmur escaped his lips, while his eyes were still closed. Antonio frowned. Who was he talking about? Oh well. He continued his small teasing moment.
"Wakey-wakey, rise and shiiiiiine…!"
"Gil if you don't stop this instant I swear-" Ludwig growled, opening his eyes and straightening his back against the wall. But he stopped mid-sentence when he realized who he was talking to.
"…Oh. It's you, Antonio."
Antonio smiled, having succeeded in waking him up. But he returned serious almost immediately.
"Ludwig, what are you doing here? What happened…?"
The German blinked a few times, a hand going for the bruise on his head. As soon as his fingertips brushed over it, he winced hissing. He was starting to feel dizzy as well, added to the titanic headache he already had. His memories were hazy… what happened, indeed?
"…I… I don't remember…" He muttered, frowning, as he looked at his knees.
Antonio swallowed. "Are you sure? Why are you even here?"
Ludwig's brow furrowed, as he tried to remember. "Zwingli…called me. He told me… what did he tell me?" His eyes widened a little. "That's right, he told me Italy was going to be dismissed from the hospital tonight, not tomorrow…"
Antonio looked sideways. "Okay, so you went out to check, obviously. But someone attacked you, right?"
"…Ja…" Ludwig answered, a bit uncertain still.
The Spaniard pressed on. "Try to remember the attacker's face! Because if you do, we could get him in jail, you know. How did he look like?"
Ludwig's frown deepened. He brought a hand to his head, covering tenderly the wound. "It was too dark… but wait, there was a flash…" He remembered being confused, and also feeling regret of having been stupid. Why would that be?
"Please remember, Ludwig." Antonio insisted.
And finally, it clicked again. The mist in Ludwig's head cleared for a moment, and he remembered everything. His eyes widened, his eyes fixed on the wall behind the Spaniard.
"Antonio, we were so stupid…"
The Spaniard blinked. "What…?"
Ludwig smirked, a chuckle escaping his lips. The dizziness was returning again, he could feel himself slipping again into the darkness. "So stupid… hahaha, it's ridiculous…"
"Ludwig, you're scaring me." Antonio swallowed, not being used to the German behaving like this.
"So, so stupid… I get it now, he never was crazy…" The blond continued, his vision blurring. The tiredness and the blow to the head were puling him down again, it seemed so much better to just fall asleep. And forget everything for a while. Be gone from the world for a couple of hours. Yes, that sounded very good.
"What are you talking about?" Antonio asked, not understanding.
"He never was crazy…" Ludwig repeated.
"Who?!" the Spaniard asked, exasperate.
"Italy… It's not one person, they're two."
"What…?" Antonio asked, unbelieving.
Ludwig's eyes closed. "They're two, probably twins… it's so obvious it sounds ridiculous…"
The Spaniard grabbed the shoulders of the other. "Are you… sure…?"
"Of course I am…"
"Tell me what happened!" Antonio shook the German's shoulders once.
Blue eyes blinked slowly. "Tired…"
"Don't fall asleep! You have to tell me what happened!" Antonio pressed on, shaking his shoulders more times.
But Ludwig was already falling asleep. Before he could do so completely, though, he managed to tell the Spaniard one final thing. "Two Italies… My cover… blown."
Then, his head lolled to one side, as he finally went to dreamland again. And Antonio felt his insides become as cold as ice.
He dreamt.
It was that dream again.
He loathed it so much. And he couldn't do anything about it. Just stand by and watch as it happened, again. The nightmare he hated the most.
At the end of said dream, he was running towards a grey silhouette that could barely be seen in the darkness surrounding it. He stretched out one arm, wanting to stop it. He called out a name. But it was too far away to hear it.
And then it happened.
He blinked, and the silhouette had disappeared. Instead of the grey figure, now in front of him there was a tall wall, which stretched out left and right infinitely. The wall was also grey, yet somehow it was a different hue. And it smelled of death.
He screamed out the name again, but a cold wind suddenly started blowing so hard that he could barely hear himself.
He felt so cold, he-
"Damn it, Beilschmidt, wake up already!" An angry voice ordered.
Ludwig blinked groaning. The coldness of the dream was still lingering even if he was awake… he felt especially cold on his face, he wondered why.
He lazily cracked his eyes open. Oh, Kirkland had thrown the sheets off his bed. And someone had splashed water in his face. The coldness was explained.
Said British Captain was glaring daggers at him, yet his gaze softened and he sighed out of relief when he noticed he had awoken. "Ah, finally! I thought I would have to throw you out of the bed to wake you. Weren't you a light sleeper? It's already eight in the morning."
Ludwig swallowed dryly, before sitting up sighing. He covered his face with a hand. Why did he have headache? And why was Kirkland in his hotel room?! He noticed the Brit didn't have his uniform.
"With all do respect, Captain, what are you doing in my room?" He asked, eyes still closed.
"With all do respect, Beilschmidt, this isn't your room." The Brit retorted, smirking.
Ludwig's head snapped up as he glanced at his surroundings. Indeed, the room didn't have a window. This was Antonio's room.
"Why am I here?" He asked, swinging his legs off the bed so he could sit straight. He noticed he was wearing the same trousers as the day before, but no shirt, jacket, shoes or even socks.
"I think Carriedo took advantage of your momentary deep slumber and swapped rooms. He seemed to greatly enjoy the window." Arthur smirked, looking at something at the side of his head. "Had a rough night?"
Ludwig shook his head, "No, I-…"
A pang of pain erupted from his head. He closed his eyes hissing, bringing up a hand to feel at the left side of it, where he felt something throb. His eyes widened when he felt a bandage with his fingertips. "What happened…?"
The Brit cocked a massive eyebrow. "I was hoping you could tell me. Antonio lacks… explanatory skills. Though I do wonder if he does so on purpose or not..."
Talk of the devil, half a second later Antonio slammed the door open. The mere sound of it made Ludwig flinch.
"Ah! You're awake!"
"Thanks for stating the obvious, Carriedo." Arthur commented.
The Spaniard pouted. "I was worried…! Anyway, how do you feel?" he asked, looking at the German. He shut the door quite ungracefully again, earning another flinch from the German.
"As if I were run over by a train, thank you." Ludwig answered honestly. His memory was slowly returning again. Sheesh, he must have hit his head pretty hard to have all these side effects…! And finally, he remembered everything again. Him, waiting in an alley for Italy to come out. Italy coming out with four henchmen, in a wheelchair. Someone threatening him, his cover being blown and that someone turning out to be another Italy. A henchman knocking him out with the butt of a gun. The final warning coming from the second Italy.
"Beilschmidt, are you feeling all right? You seem pale." Arthur asked, genuine concern in his tone.
Ludwig slowly shook his head. "No… I mean, yes, I feel all right, but…" he swallowed. What should he do? He wasn't quite sure.
"Antonio, my cover is blown." Ludwig said, glancing sideways at the Spaniard.
He nodded. "Yes, I know. It was the last thing you said before passing out."
The Brit cocked a bushy brow. "So 'Fritz' is no more?"
"Sadly, no. So I will probably cooperate with you of the police, other than with Antonio..." He paused. "And…" he wasn't sure if he wanted to finish the sentence. And then he asked himself, why not? Wasn't he trying to catch him? Them? Yet, something he couldn't quite name didn't want him to speak. Didn't want him to tell the Brit what he had discovered.
"And…?" Arthur asked expectantly. Antonio eyed him, waiting to see what his partner would decide.
Ludwig decided to ignore that internal block of his. "Italy Vargas isn't crazy."
The Captain looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"It's a set of twins."
That definitely left the Brit incredulous. "He's what?!"
"Yes. Definitely. I know it sounds ridiculous, yet…" Ludwig quickly added.
Arthur's mouth opened and closed several times, and once or twice he tried to speak, but couldn't find the words. He walked back and forth in silence through the room, before sitting down gingerly on a chair, eyes wide. "Bloody hell. Such idiots we all are."
Antonio was still staring at him, his green gaze so fixed it kind of unnerved Ludwig. He chose to simply ignore the Spaniard's gaze. "So this all explains how he could have an alibi all the time, am I right?"
The Brit slowly nodded, looking at his knees. "Yes. Yes, for God's sake! It is clear now! How could we have been so blind? How could everyone have been so blind?!"
Ludwig nodded, his headache not hindering his train of thoughts. "Yes, it perfectly makes sense. The two simply never show up at the same time in public, so no one could possibly think there are two of them around. Also, the astounding loyalty of his-...I mean their henchmen works in their favour. Most of the 'confirmed' list probably know this peculiar trait of their Boss."
Antonio shrugged, leaning onto the closed door. "I did wonder why so many people were willing to work with a mental and lunatic Boss... Turns out he isn't mental!" He smiled triumphantly.
"So they do not show up at the same time in public. Yet, when there is a job to do, one of the two goes out for the dirty work, while the other remains in public, seen by dozens of people. Such a clever scheme..." Arthur murmured, eyes narrowing while looking at his hands.
Ludwig slowly nodded. "That's what I thought too."
A good whole minute passed in silence, the realisation sinking into them all. Then, Arthur abruptly stood up, the chair loudly protesting against the floor.
"I have to tell my men." And he headed for the door.
"...No." Ludwig caught himself stating involuntarily. He blinked, not expecting that from himself. And judging by the looks on their faces, neither did Antonio or Arthur.
"I beg your pardon?" The Captain asked, frowning, one hand already raised to get the doorknob.
"I mean... Knowing this fact gives us a great advantage. But spreading the information, even if it is only amongst your men... the Vargas will most certainly find out in a couple of days that their act is blown. And they will probably change tactic. Knowing their act, now it shouldn't be too difficult to catch them red-handed." Ludwig tried to explain. Yet, even if he was speaking the truth – it was a big advantage, knowing they were twins – he felt as if he were lying. He cursed his damn brain and that illogical part of his mind.
However, the Captain seemed convinced enough. "You're right, Beilschmidt. It is careless to slip out information as hot as this one too quickly. I'll tell Delisi, as always, but you know you can trust him. Gentlemen, I must congratulate you both from the bottom of my heart. Your astounding work is quickly bearing fruits." The Brit smiled, and grabbed the doorknob. "It's almost unbelievable, keep going like this, and in no time we'll have not one, but two Vargas in jail. I almost feel too happy for words! Have a good day, the both of you."
The Captain left the two detectives in the room, and walked down the stairs feeling as if he had wings at his feet and heart. He just couldn't stop smiling. They were closing in on them. On the not one, but two bloody demons that were the source of all his problems in this city. Soon they would have them both. While he rode with his car home, he still couldn't stop smiling.
Ludwig stood up, arching his back, Antonio still eyeing him. Ludwig was kind of getting unnerved.
"Tell me Antonio, why do you keep staring at me?"
"You're not telling something. I mean, the reasons you gave the Captain were all righteous, but..." Antonio's eyes narrowed.
Darn it, Antonio was all but the fool everyone saw him as. Ludwig gritted his teeth, as he got to the small sink in the corner of the room to wash his face. "So what if I am?"
The Spaniard simply leaned against the closed door again, glancing at the ceiling. "Well, it's just... we're supposed to be partners, Ludwig. We shouldn't keep things for ourselves. We're supposed to trust each other."
Ludwig splashed his face with water, dried his features with a small beige towel. He supported himself on the sink itself, elbows locked, his head bowed. He guessed he could tell him.
"I know it sounds strange, but... I think I might have gotten too deep into Operation 'Socializing Smoke Fan'. And this stupid part of me keeps scolding me for not even thanking him. For that bullet. Because I really didn't." He took a shaky breath. "Antonio, he's a criminal. Both of them are. We are detectives. We are supposed to catch them. Yet why do I feel like I don't want to? And..." he turned around to face the Spaniard, "...I somehow have the impression that he doesn't even want to be in the mafia."
Antonio took a deep breath, folding his arms to his chest. "Ludwig, he might be only acting..."
Ludwig shook his head, holding one hand to the bandage, the other pointing at the Spaniard. "No, Antonio! You said it, at the beginning of this whole mess. That Vargas was lonely. I am now simply convinced he really is."
"Vargas murders people, Ludwig! Both of them do!" Antonio exclaimed, eyes wide, stepping away from the door. "You weren't there, at the crime scene of the shootout! You didn't see what they did! They blackmail people, they organize thefts and kidnappings, they arrange the 'pizzo' and the black market, terrorizing the honest citizens of Palermo and Sicily! Aren't those enough reasons to catch them?"
Ludwig remained silent, glaring at his own feet. After about half a minute, he answered, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Don't you think I know you're right? Don't you think I read the very same files you read? Don't you think I already thought this through?! I feel as if in my head there is a goddamn football stadium right now, and I'm the ball!"
Antonio didn't answer to this, and so they stood straight, for a couple of minutes, simply looking at each other. The Spaniard's face looked so much different without that lopsided goofy smile, he actually looked intimidating.
Ludwig was the one breaking the silence again. "Look, Antonio, I'm sorry, you're absolutely right. But even so, all the progress I have done with... with one of the Vargas, doesn't count for the other, who gave me a pretty clear warning. I never must approach the Vargas family again. And I can't even tell that I have been attacked by Vargas, because technically he can barely walk on his own, doesn't he?" He looked up at Antonio. "I must pass the ball to you, Antonio. You haven't been compromised yet, you still can sneak behind Vargas' defences."
Antonio nodded, his usual goofy smile now back on his features. The Spaniard changed moods incredibly quickly. "So I just have to be the smoke fan, haha! I'll have to go look for the grumpy one though, because that's the one I got to know... otherwise it would get too suspicious, no?"
Ludwig simply nodded, happy they weren't on war footing anymore. They were partners again. A good relationship between colleagues was truly needed, especially with their kind of jobs. You needed to trust each other.
He sighed, and changed the subject.
"Oh, and I definitely want my room back, you know."
The Spaniard groaned. "Awww, I hoped you wouldn't notice... can't I keep your room? I need a window!" he whined pleadingly.
"Never." He smirked playfully, leaving for his room. He shut the door behind himself, and sighed smiling. These kind of childish skirmishes reminded him so much of-
Of nobody. He quickly corrected himself. Actually, it sounded also like the kind of argument the 'innocent' Italy would make. He was immature enough for it, anyway.
You still didn't thank him, you ungrateful bastard. The annoying voice in his head said, the image of Italy shoving him aside set vividly in his memory.
He bared his teeth again, narrowing his eyes. Shut up. Antonio is right. Vargas murders people. Saving me doesn't bring all those other victims back. I need to catch him before he hurts other people. I'm going to get you, Italy Vargas. Both of you.
As he dressed himself, he was still hearing that damn part of his mind complaining.
Ungrateful bastard.
OooOOOoOOOoh, a serious Antonio...! D8 Run for your lives! Unless you are Ludwig and can confront him... XD
WTF, I'm still trying to move the spotlight towards Antonio and 'dangerous Italy', but still somehow I don't succeed! Damn it! DX (I tried... the beginning of almost every chapter starts with Antonio's POV! ._.) Oh well, now shit is going to get real, Antonio is going to try and 'smoke fan' the dangerous twin! XD
To all the Americans out there, I heard that school already started! D8 I wish you luck, and shine bright (and be strong) as a Doitsu! 3
See you all next chapter, I wish you all a wonderful day! :D
(This has nothing to do with the story or anything, I just liked it...!)
DRUNK STEREOTYPES OF THE WORLD:
-Italians: There's not much difference between a sober and a drunk Italian.
-English: It is better to deal with a bunch of tigers than to deal with a drunk Englishman.
-Spaniards: Levels of a Spaniard's drunkness; 1) borracho. 2) muy borracho. 3) cantos populares. 4) cantos patrioticos. 5) cantos religiosos. 6) negación de la evidencia. 7) apoteosis final. [1) drunk. 2) very drunk. 3) popular songs. 4) patriotic songs. 5) religious songs. 6) denial of the evidence. 7) final apotheosis]
-Germans: Usually jovial while still not completely drunk, once drunk they get all mopey and sad.
-Chinese: Can hold their alcohol very well, you can't tell if they drank. When they really do go nutz with the booze, there will be random yelling and spontaneous flirting with their partner. (Thank you, Ayaku-Chan!)
-Americans: "Duuuude. Like, totally punch my abs. I swear I won't feel a thing." or, "Oh yeah? I bet I can climb that traffic light and put a traffic cone on top of it!"= Ergo, Americans do very stupid things and dares when drunk. (Thank you, Cherryappleblossom9201 and Hammsters!)
-Irish/Scottish: Are always drunk, no one knows how they are when actually sober. (Thank you, Katie-Kat1129!)
(If anyone else has some stereotypes like these, I'd love to hear them, and I'll add them to this list! X3)