Lovino awoke the next morning with a bright sunbeam on his face and a strange feeling of comfort. He sat up groggily, realising he wasn't in his sleeping bag, and with a jolt, he remembered what had happened a few hours before. He groaned inwardly, slapping a hand to his forehead and feeling like an idiot.
Luckily for him, Antonio had gotten up earlier and didn't seem to be around.
Damn it all to hell, Lovino thought. The bastard's never gonna let me live that down. He scowled and stomped out angrily in search of a shower.
The bathroom turned out to be an ensuite attached to Antonio's room, although it was used by all residents currently. It was clean, but spartan, with the only utilities being a toilet, sink and shower-bath. Various bottles and tubes littered the shelves next to the sink and Lovino couldn't help but spend a few moments trying to figure out whose was whose. Fancy shampoo was definitely Francis' - Lovino didn't know the guy well, but it was obvious he cared about his appearance greatly. Things like toothpaste were too ambiguous to tell, but the hair gel and aftershave with 'Awesome' written above the logo had to be Gilbert's.
This didn't hold his attention very long, so he stripped off his clothes and got in the shower. The water was lukewarm, but bearable, and Lovino was glad to be clean.
Once the water running out of his hair had turned from muddy brown to crystal clear, he shut the water off and stepped out. Pulling a fluffy red towel at random off the chrome rack, he quickly dried himself off and switched into black jeans and a dark blue shirt. The towel he draped around his shoulders to catch the drips off his hair. He'd always let his hair dry naturally, even though it took longer. Towelling it off just felt strange.
He wandered out of the bathroom through Antonio's room into the hallway. The boxes had disappeared again and he briefly wondered where they lived during their diurnal period.
"Hola, Lovi!" a voice said cheerily behind him and Lovino groaned internally. He hadn't expected his humiliation to come quite so soon. He turned slightly and fixed the Spaniard with an evil-eyed glare.
When he didn't reply Antonio spoke again. "You alright this morning? I hope you're feeling better now."
"Screw off," Lovino retorted. "My life is none of your damn business."
"Oh." Lovino could hear the concern and disappointment in Antonio's voice. "Not that I want to bring it up, but you seemed so upset last night. I was wondering if there was anything that I could do to help." He laid a hand on Lovino's shoulder in an attempt at comfort. Unfortunately, that was the wrong thing to do.
Lovino spun around and pinned him to the wall in anger, water droplets flying off his damp hair. "Listen, bastard. Nothing, I repeat nothing, happened last night. So you can shove your phony comforts right back where they came from." He glowered furiously and looked Antonio straight in his confused eyes.
"O-ok, Lovi," Antonio replied in bemusement. "If that's what you want." Lovino growled once more and released his grip on Antonio's shirt.
Just as he turned to go, Antonio spoke again. "I just would like to help you. If something's upsetting you, sometimes it helps to talk about it." He sounded so sincere it was hard for Lovino not to drop and confess everything.
"Get lost," he retorted. "You're useless." As soon as he said this, he realised something and froze. "Wait. There is something."
"Anything to make you happy, Lovi," Antonio replied cheerfully.
"Shut up. Anyway, you said you keep a log of people who come through here. Was...was there anyone called Vargas on the list?" His voice cracked slightly as he spoke and he winced at the leak of emotion.
Antonio looked thoughtful. "Vargas, hmm? Well, it sounds familiar. I'll have to check. Francis has the log book next door. Come on." He took Lovino's wrist and headed out, shortly before the Italian wrenched his arm back and glared.
Francis greeted the two with a bright smile as they entered the grubbier second house. He was sat at a desk in the fourth room, one Lovino hadn't been in before. It was evidently where all the boxes lived in the middle of the day. They were piled high all over the floor in precarious towers; the various chairs, floorboards and even a sofa barely visible beneath them.
"Bonjour. Have you two got a mission this morning then? I sense some determination here." Francis jauntily tapped a shiny gold pen on the desk and raised his eyebrows.
Antonio nodded and gestured at a thick brown book on a chair nearby. "Yes. We're looking for someone Lovi knows, name of Vargas." He wandered over to the book and picked it up, rifling to the front and beginning to scan the words.
"Hmm?" Francis steepled his fingers in interest and stared at Lovino. "Vargas...I've heard that before. Quite recently. Where would it have been? Merde, I should know this." He frowned and stroked his short beard thoughtfully.
Lovino sat down heavily on a spare chair and sighed in annoyance. Clearly, this was going to take some time. His search had been taken over before it had even begun.
An industrious silence descended on the room, broken only by the occasional bird or shout from outside. Lovino quickly grew bored of the lack of progress. Truthfully, he wasn't holding out any hope that his family were in there. If they were in the capital, they'd have been looking out for him, and therefore would have found him already.
"Lovi?" Antonio said after a few minutes. "Is that Vargas as a surname or a first? It's easier if I only have to scan one column."
"Surname, obviously," Lovino answered sulkily.
Suddenly Francis snapped his fingers. "I've got it! I knew I remembered the name from somewhere. I'm so blind! They came here, oh, about three or four days after the explosions. A man, perhaps thirtyish, quite strong-looking, very charismatic, and a younger boy, maybe sixteen, with a-" he cut off and gestured a curl off the left side of his head "-like yours."
Antonio's face lit up and he began flicking through the book's pages. "Of course! They were one of the ones Gilbert came across. Poor kid was scared stiff and the older guy nearly killed us for it. It was quite funny really, in hindsight. Ah, here we go! Feliciano and Romulus Vargas."
Lovino couldn't believe what he was hearing. Feliciano and Grandpa were alive after all. Four days? I'd been hanging around looking for them all that time, and they were here all along? Damn it all! But his anger didn't last, replaced instead by an overwhelming euphoria. Everything seemed to shine with renewed colour. A smile spread across his face and he raced over to Antonio, jumping around to get a look at the book.
"Really? Where are they, damn it? Tell me!"
"Calm down, I'll tell you. Let's see. Looking for a - ooh, Lovino Vargas! That's you, right Lovi? This must be your family.~ Current location...ah, they're the ones who are staying with Ludwig, aren't they?"
Francis nodded. "Oui. They hit it off quite well, after Ludwig explained about Gilbert. He and Romulus seemed to be on the same wavelength - militaristic types, really. And nobody turns down the offer of a place to stay in times like this."
"Who the hell's Ludwig?" Lovino asked impatiently. Not that he'd admit it, but he was desperate to see his family again, and he didn't want to go through a middleman he didn't know.
"Gilbert's younger brother," Antonio explained, "although you wouldn't know it from looking at him. Ludwig's much quieter and more serious. Your family'll be safe with him."
"And where would that be?"
Antonio shrugged. "Not sure. I'll ask Gilbert."
"He's out," Francis interrupted. "Sorry."
Lovino swore violently. "You useless bastards!"
"Sorry, Lovi," Antonio apologised. "I'll see if I can call him." He pulled a phone out of his pocket and hit a number on speed dial. A few seconds later a voice answered, but it was too faint for Lovino to hear.
"Hiya, Gil," Antonio said into the phone. "Can you come back here? Turns out Lovi's related to the guys who are staying with your brother, but I don't have a way to contact him. ... Sí. ... Sí. ... Oh dear. How long-? ... Really? ... Ok, but he won't be pleased. Adiós."
"So what's the bad news?" Lovino had already guessed as much from the side he'd heard.
Antonio flipped the phone shut. "Well, Gilbert's a bit busy at the moment - he gets into these troubles quite easily. But he'll be back a bit later - for lunch, if you're lucky - so you can call them then."
Lovino was pretty close to losing his temper by this point. "Screw that! Where does this guy live? I'll go over myself."
"As I said, I don't know exactly. Gilbert's always been the one to contact him in the last few days." Antonio sighed. "I'm sorry, but you'll just have to be patient for now."
"Patience? Bah! You wouldn't want to be patient if you'd thought your family were dead and you were told you had to wait to see them when they weren't, damn it! Stupid jerk." Lovino shot Antonio a resentful glance and skulked out out of the room. Once again, he found he'd had enough of him.