I'm quite invested in this city now.

0o0o0o

Feliciano had seen too many people hopeless. Lovino fought like a cornered animal, Nonno went quiet, halfheartedly searching for solutions, but Ludwig…

Feliciano shivered. Ludwig knew Gilbert wasn't coming back. They both did, and Ludwig when he was hopeless was angry and hurt and turned on himself and Feliciano never wanted him to be hopeless again.

Some part of him wondered if it wouldn't be better to let Gilbert go. His arguments tore Ludwig apart, but when he was gone, Ludwig didn't know what to do. Feliciano didn't know how to fix things that kept breaking like this.

The image of bloody knuckles tumbled through his head again, and Feliciano closed his eyes. Ludwig was more like his brother than he knew. He had the same furious kind of power in their raw emotions that only ended up hurting everyone. Ludwig had been keeping his feelings closed off for too long-everyone like them had to, to a certain extent, but he didn't seem like he wanted to ever let himself feel. Now more than ever, he was locking himself down like it was a weakness to feel. Because he wanted to be strong, but also because of sharp words that could not be taken back, words that carved themselves into the softness of their untried hearts and stayed there.

Ludwig wanted to hide in himself, in the sharpness settling into his eyes and the angle of his jaw and the way he cut inscrutable glances at people to hide his pain, but behind all the defenses was someone who loved things like drawing and rain and dogs and had a shy, delighted smile and who Feliciano loved, deeply. He wasn't going to let Ludwig disappear. He would let him have his days alone, let him grieve for now, but not forever.

But Feliciano needed a break at home. Lovino was fuming, bitter anger covering up the panic everyone was feeling. Nonno wasn't getting better. He was getting worse, much worse, much too fast.

He looked thirty years older, gaunt and thin, when Feliciano sat down for breakfast.

'Feliciano!' His smile was a thin, fearful veneer. His hands clenched in the tablecloth. He hadn't touched his food, but his voice was urgent underneath the false cheer. 'Did I tell you about my wife?'

'A long time ago-'

'You should know,' Nonno rushed. 'Her name is Felicia. We named you after her.'

'Why did we never know her?' Lovino demanded, walking in. He glanced at the table and did not sit down. 'Why did we never have anyone? Our father-he was in the war, you told us, and our mother…'

He went silent, and Feliciano stared at his hands. They never talked about their mother. She'd never recovered from the shock of losing her husband, and her second pregnancy was too much for her.

'You always sound fond about your wife,' Lovino continued, more subdued now, voice rough with the effort of holding back tears. 'Why didn't she help raise us before she died?'

'She's not dead,' Nonno said quietly. Lovino paused.

'She's still alive? Where is she?'

'Europe.' Nonno half-shrugged, and Feliciano saw his eyes clouding with tears. 'Florence.'

Lovino's mouth worked silently before he exploded. 'She left you? You let her leave us? Unless you never told her you had two grandsons, which I don't put past you.'

'She knows,' Nonno said. His tears were shimmering on his eyelashes and his voice was shaking with the effort. 'Lovino, Feliciano, please. I just want you to know about her. Just in case. We had our-our reasons to separate.'

'They weren't good enough,' Lovino spat, turning on his heel and stalking out of the room. Nonno put down his fork and closed his eyes to murmur a prayer. His hands were trembling.

'What is she like?' Feliciano asked, unsure if he should pursue this fresh wound. Nonno took a long time answering.

'You have her hair and her laugh. Lovi has her eyes and her fire. I fell in love with all of that, and I see it in you both every day.' He took a deep breath and smiled, the action painfully pulling at the redness surrounding his mouth and nose, a heartbreaking kind of pride reflecting in his eyes. 'You two might go visit her one day.'

'And you too?'

'No.' Nonno chuckled, and the effort made him wince. 'I said I wouldn't be going back to Europe.'

Something wasn't lining up like it should, and dread was slowly building in Feliciano's stomach. 'Nonno-'

'Not right now, Feliciano,' Nonno said. 'Please. I-I need to go talk to your brother.'

With an effort, he stood, looking so frail Feliciano jumped up to help him, but Nonno waved him away and limped into the hallway.

Feliciano only caught pieces of their conversation, and it was all accusatory words and pleads for understanding. Feliciano caught a glimpse of his grandfather's face through the door, lined and ancient and beyond exhausted. He slumped down in a chair and closed his eyes.

Feliciano brought over his plate, still unsure of every movement. Nonno groaned, one of his eyes barely opening to look out at him.

'Thank you, Feliciano,' he croaked. 'I'm sorry.'

'For what?'

Roma laughed and jerked his head weakly in the direction of Ludwig's house. His breath was a rasp. 'Him. It's his fault, why I never made it with Felicia.'

Feliciano wanted to ask more, but Nonno shook his head and started eating. Feliciano went upstairs.

Lovino was feeding papers into the fax machine. When Feliciano gently pushed open the door, he shoved the papers underneath his books.

'You should knock, Feliciano,' he said. His face was red.

'Nonno said you have her eyes.' He hesitated, not sure if the next would bring on their grandmother's temper. 'And her fire.'

Lovino stared at him for a long moment before he sighed and stood up to-maybe ruffle his hair, but with a start, they both realized Feliciano was almost as tall as him now, and his hand paused inches from his hair.

'I can blame her for my temper, at least,' he muttered, staring less at Feliciano than through him, thinking of his own secrets. 'And Antonio said he liked my-' He stopped suddenly, scowling, but there was no real venom in it.

'Is that who you're talking to?' Feliciano asked, nodding to the fax machine, smiling despite himself. 'Antonio?'

Lovino was still for a second, thinking, before he abruptly turned back to the machine. 'Yes.'

Feliciano waited by the door, tipping back and forth on his feet about whether to leave or not. Lovino scoffed and jerked his head at the spot beside him. His scowl was slowly turning into a smile he couldn't hold back. 'Well? You've been badgering me long enough about him. Come see.'

For the first time in what had been too long, Feliciano was delighted. He took the few faxes Lovino handed him and looked through the letters so obviously adoring, promising the whole world, planning for car rides and secrets mixed with inquiries about how Lovino liked his books-and his new tattoo; Feliciano didn't know Antonio had a tattoo on his hip, and what was this about Lovino getting to see it close up-

Lovino snatched the letter out of his hand and shoved another one at him, ears flaming red. Feliciano giggled, his own face feeling hot. He felt guilty, somewhere deep down, about being so happy, but he needed it. Being happy was okay for now, especially with his older brother. They'd sent so long keeping secrets and dealing with their own lives they'd forgotten each other.

For a moment, Feliciano could forget the world that had too much hate and not enough love declarations, and the sharp edges of everything that had happened recently were bundled away, and all that mattered was how happy Lovino looked cradling those precious words in his hands.

Feliciano almost forgot Nonno until he heard the crash.

Lovino went white. He dropped the papers and grabbed Feliciano's hand, pulling him downstairs, stumbling on the stairs. The blood was rushing in Feliciano's ears, blocking out everything except Lovino shouting, sounding finally terrified, letting go of his hand to kneel over Nonno groaning on the floor. The blood staining his teeth matched the sores on his mouth. Feliciano swayed on his feet, feeling like he might fall, too, but that was ridiculous, because he'd already fallen for so many things, like painting and flowers and beautiful blue eyes, but the pillars of his life were not supposed to fall like this.

Lovino was shouting for someone to stay with him, and Feliciano's head was a rush of blue and furious, frightened hazel eyes shouting that it all had to stop.

Nonno was shouting, crying, Lovino, please, and Lovino was screaming back that Nonno had the signs for ages, he just hadn't realized. He'd been stupid, but he'd thought, because of all his talk that it wasn't right. And how none of anything mattered anymore, because Lovino couldn't drive to the hospital like this.

Feliciano did the only thing he knew how. He ran, and then there was the rough wood of a door under his hands and Aldrich opened it instantly and Feliciano stared into the eyes of the person who had almost ruined Ludwig and choked out he needed help, that his grandfather was sick or dying and they needed to get to the hospital.

Feliciano didn't remember much after that.

0o0o0o

The new folder lay on his bed. Feliciano didn't want to touch it or open it or even think of it, but it lay there, an ugly slash in the painting of his life.

Feliciano had been left behind, watching the car drive off, left knowing his grandfather would come back changed forever if he did at all. That this had been happening for ages, and Feliciano had let it. He'd gone back into his house and stuffed a pillow in his mouth and screamed, punching his bed until someone pulled him away he collapsed into a gentle circle of arms. He remembered only one thing clearly-a snapshot, like that one night, but the only constant between that golden night and this hell was Ludwig's touch holding him to reality, of a voice holding back its own pain to help him through his.

He woke up feeling heavier than stone. Ludwig was gently stroking his hair, and looked down at the way Feliciano was half-curled over his lap, tears staining his shirt. He brushed his tears away.

'Vati came back a while ago,' he said, voice scratchy, gesturing at the folder. 'He brought you this.'

Feliciano didn't want to open it. It was the test results, the ones from the doctor's offices that fired you if you had this. But with the soft press of Ludwig's hand against his, he could have the courage to reach forward knowing what the verdict was already.

The sheet was nearly bare except for the words that said Feliciano's grandfather was soon to be dead. The words were burning into his mind, erasing everything. Another scream was working up through his throat. Ludwig tugged it from his hands.

'I'm sorry,' he said.

'Don't apolo-' Feliciano couldn't make it through the word. He crumpled in, sobs wracking his body. Ludwig pulled him closer. He had no useless comforting words to fix this, but he said his name like a prayer, and Feliciano took a deep breath and let Ludwig hold him. There was nothing to say. This was the kind of unfixable thing that drove people to helplessness.

'Where's your…' Feliciano couldn't bring himself to say the word.

'Vati is back at the hospital. With him.'

'Pleass stay here tonight,' Feliciano rasped. He was beyond everything now, so drained and exhausted all he felt was numb. 'Lovino's gone. I don't think he's going to come back.'

Ludwig didn't protest, and settled in beside him.

'How do you say sorry for all of this?' Ludwig asked quietly.

'Scusa per tutto questo,' Feliciano answered automatically. He knew it wasn't what Ludwig meant, but he couldn't feel anything more than tired. When he was hopeless, he gave up.

Feliciano fell back asleep and did not dream.

0o0o0o

There are still stories untold about every person.

:: Campfires burning low late at night