Thanks to apurehetalian, schwalzy, Gyalx81 and Carina Sicily for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 14

Feliks sighed when he climbed in the front seat of his mother's car.

"Rough day?" she asked.

"…Like, how do you convince someone that their life isn't worthless?" Feliks asked.

He had been the one who had to be convinced, and he had no idea how difficult it was. He really needed to remember to buy his parents a gift for their troubles.

"…Are you talking about yourself, or Lovino?" Felicja asked.

Feliks had given his parents a rough idea of what the situation with Lovino was like. He didn't go into too much detail, but he did stress the point that Lovino was suicidal.

"Lovino," Feliks sighed.

"…I'm not sure," Felicja admitted. "I guess… Show him that you value his company. Did you remember to invite him?"

"He said he'll think about it," Feliks said.

Felicja pursed her lips.

"We're out of tea at work, so I'm going to stop by the store on my way back," she said. "Do you want something? Something that would last a few hours?"

Feliks shook his head. In all honesty, he just wanted to find a way to help his potential friend.

…

After school, Lovino made his way to Mr Kohler's class. As the one that assigned the detention, he would be the one that decided where he would go. Most likely, Mr Kohler would be the one to keep an eye on them.

His detentions usually consisted of cleaning the chemistry lab, a job that Lovino particularly hated. It was even worse because those three would be there. And he knew that they would find a way to retaliate afterwards.

He tensed when he saw them approaching from the opposite direction, their faces displaying that he was right in his suspicion, and that he could expect retaliation. However, the moment he stepped foot in the class, the unexpected happened.

What was Mr Zwingli doing there?

The moment they saw him, the two teachers nodded to each other, and Vash approached him.

"Come on, Vargas," the economics teacher said. "You'll be spending your detention with me."

Lovino looked towards the trio, who looked incredulously at them. Realising that he was the only one that would be joining the Swiss teacher, he immediately turned around and started following him. After a few classrooms Mr Zwingli stopped, turning to him.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Lovino just blinked in confusion. The teacher notorious for being aloof was asking him if he was alright?

"Why do you ask that?" he asked.

"Your steps are uneven, and I can see you placing more weight on your right leg than your left," the teacher explained.

Lovino tried to shift his weight to bring equal weight, but hissed in pain, shifting again to the right.

"It's just a sprain," Lovino said.

"Has anyone looked at it?" he asked.

Lovino shook his head. The teacher sighed.

"…I have some first-aid training," he said. "I could take a look at it in my class, if you'd like," he said.

Lovino frowned.

"Why?" he asked.

Vash shrugged, before he started walking again. Lovino noticed that he was moving slower, and he realised that it was to accommodate him. Still, why would this teacher suddenly be so nice to him? Especially since he was one of the strictest teachers in the school.

Lovino then had two revelations: the first was that Vash had seen the encounter with the trio from the week before. The one which his father hadn't heard of. The one after which Vash had asked him for his version of the story. The second revelation was that Marcello was friends with Mr Zwingli's daughter. And considering how persistent his youngest brother was being, it wasn't too hard to imagine that he would go to this teacher for help.

This was… this was too much. Lovino wasn't used to so many people being worried about him. No… It wasn't worry. Feliks had witnessed Lovino trying to kill himself. Mr Zwingli had seen Lovino being hurt by other students. And Marcello had walked in on Lovino harming himself. They weren't worried about him. They were doing what everyone was led to believe decent human beings were supposed to do when they saw something like this.

It wasn't because they were worried about him, or that they cared about him. It was because they were convinced that it was what they had to do. They would have done it with anyone else.

…They were on the nicer spectrum, but there were still many others that would have egged Lovino on to continue harming himself. That would have laughed. That would have…

"What's bothering you?" Mr Zwingli asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

Lovino shook his head. Seriously, since when did this teacher express concern over any of the students, with the exception of his daughter?

"Nothing," he said.

He realised that they had arrived at the economics classroom, and that he had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't realised they arrived. He averted his eyes to hide his embarrassment, before entering the classroom.

"First, let me take a look at that foot of yours," Mr Zwingli said.

Lovino shook his head, but the teacher only stared at him firmly, his eyes narrowing slightly. Lovino sighed in defeat, before sitting down on one of the desks, as Mr Zwingli indicated he should do.

He bit his lip as the teacher delicately removed his shoe, sock and bandage, before examining the foot.

"When did this happen?" Mr Zwingli asked.

"Thursday," Lovino said.

"Have you put any ointment on it?"

"Si. Anti-inflammatory creams, muscle relief…"

"A cold compress?"

"No."

"…There's a lot of bruising and swelling. Have you been taking it easy?"

Lovino was silent, and the teacher looked up.

"I sprained it on my way home from school," Lovino said. "I had to walk on it for at least half an hour."

"Why didn't you call your father to pick you up?" Mr Zwingli asked.

"Because he wouldn't have."

He didn't mean to say it, but it was the truth. His father wouldn't have gone to pick him up. He'd said before that if Lovino wasn't in the bus, then he wouldn't go to fetch him.

Mr Zwingli wrapped the bandage around his foot again, before he sighed.

"I'll take you home when your detention is over," he said.

"But…" Lovino started.

"No. You need to stay off that foot as much as possible. I'm amazed by your endurance, to be honest. From the looks of things, you would need to walk on crutches."

"No. No crutches. I can't…"

His mind flashed back to when he was younger. His leg had been broken when Francis pushed him down the stairs. He was around eight years old. He had been unable to defend himself while he had the crutches. And they had made things insanely difficult for him.

He didn't want to repeat that time.

"Alright then," Vash sighed. "Anyway, take your seat."

Lovino got off of the table and sat down on the chair. He frowned in confusion when Mr Zwingli placed a copy of War and Peace in front of him.

"Your detention is to read that for the next hour," Mr Zwingli said, sitting down at his desk.

Lovino was a bit confused. Never before had he been instructed to read a novel during detention. However, once the confusion abated, he had to hold in his smirk. He'd actually already read War and Peace – it was one of the titles on his bookshelf at home. And he could think of worse punishments for detention.

So he opened the book to the first page, and started reading.

…

Romulus sighed as he placed a bottle of aspirin in the basket. He'd noticed that their supply had been running low – most likely due to Lovino – and knew that he needed to buy another bottle soon. And since he was already going for groceries, he figured that it was a good time to do it.

As he entered the aisle for the coffees, he saw a woman next to the boxes of tea, browsing. That would have been the end of it, but he couldn't help but think that she looked familiar. Green eyes, blond hair…

His eyes widened as it clicked.

"Excuse me," he said as he approached her. "By any chance, are you Feliks's mother?"

She blinked at him in confusion, before her eyes widened in realisation.

"You're Lovino's father, aren't you?" she asked.

Romulus nodded, mentally preparing to apologise for his son. She smiled.

"Lovino's such a sweet boy," she said. "So considerate."

…He wasn't expecting her to say that.

"Huh?" he questioned.

She shrugged.

"The other day, when he was working on their project at our place, he actually said he'd walk home, so as not to bother me," she said. "And it's such a long way too. But I insisted on driving him back."

"Oh… Thank you," he said.

Did someone just call Lovino 'sweet' and 'considerate'?

She checked her watch, before wincing.

"I actually have to go back to work now," she said, grabbing two boxes of tea. "I hope we can chat again soon. And… Mr Vargas?"

He looked towards her, surprised by the formal way in which she spoke.

"Don't be too hard on Lovino," she said. "From what my son told me, he's having a hard time at school. He just needs to know you're on his side."

He widened his eyes. Did she know something that he didn't?

The school had called him earlier, informing him of the fight Lovino had been a part of, as well as the detention he had received. He was preparing to lecture his son – again – but this woman's words made him pause.

What exactly did she mean?

She was already gone before he could ask for further clarification.

…

"Vargas," Mr Zwingli called.

Lovino jumped in surprise, wrapped up in the story. Mr Zwingli glanced towards the book, but said nothing.

"Detention's over," he said. "You can give the book back to me, and I'll be sure to return it to the library. You wait here."

Lovino handed over the book, but he was confused about the order to wait there. Only when the teacher left the room did he remember that Mr Zwingli told him that he would drop him off.

Feeling uncomfortable, Lovino stood, and only a few steps later did he stop, leaning against the nearest desk. He'd stepped a bit less-than-delicately, and after sitting still for an hour, his sprained ankle wasn't happy about the sudden movement. Especially at the speed in which he was trying to escape.

He weighed his options, trying to determine if it would really be so bad to be dropped off by a teacher. Well, as long as Mr Zwingli had no desire to speak to his father…

He sat down on the nearest desk and started massaging his injured ankle. He could tell that the swelling was getting worse.

He knew that he should have taken better care of his ankle, and had even postponed a shopping trip that he had planned. He wanted to go to the bookstore, and he wanted to get some more ointment and bandages, but he decided against it. Especially when he realised that he wouldn't have had time to properly enjoy his new book.

Only a few more days…

He was still massaging his swollen ankle when Mr Zwingli returned. The teacher said nothing, but it was clear to Lovino that he wanted to say something. Not in the mood to listen to anything right now, he grabbed his bag.

"When are we leaving?" he asked.

Mr Zwingli grabbed his things, before gesturing to Lovino to follow him. Lovino did so. Painfully. He was glad that Mr Zwingli was minding his speed, but he still didn't believe that the teacher's worry for him was sincere.

The ride to his house was silent, and Lovino was preparing himself for the scolding he would receive. Was his father going to ground him again? It wouldn't matter.

As soon as Mr Zwingli pulled into the driveway, Lovino said his first words to the teacher since they left the school.

"Thank you for the ride back," he said gently, avoiding the teacher's eyes.

Mr Zwingli turned to him in surprise, but Lovino quickly grabbed his bag and opened the door.

"Non sei solo," Mr Zwingli said.

Lovino froze, before turning back to the teacher.

"What?" he asked.

"I can speak Italian too," Mr Zwingli sighed. "If you have any trouble, just… come to me, alright?"

Lovino blinked a few times, but didn't say anything else. He climbed out of the car and started limping to the front door.

You are not alone.

'Since when?' Lovino wondered.

Ever since his mother died, Lovino was alone. He was forced to deal with everything alone. And it wasn't due to a lack of trying to find someone to help him. But his brothers couldn't help him – one was afraid of him, and the other couldn't understand what he tried to tell him – and his father didn't believe him. Neither did the teachers, and the students all hated him. There were those that had tried to get close to him, but… Some of them only got close to him in order to get close to his brother. And some had grown disgusted with him. And some…

Some had only gotten close to him in order to hurt him.

Now…

There was a new student who had seen Lovino at his most vulnerable, and who tried to intrude in his life after escaping the hell that Lovino was still going through. An idiot who was too stupid to realise that if he didn't step away from Lovino, he would only be dragged through the same hell again. And he would still end up hating Lovino for leading him back to perdition. His brother – the same one who had been afraid of him – who suddenly decided to get close to him. Who for the first time knew the hell that Lovino was going through, and was foolishly under the impression that he could drag him out. And now the teacher who made it a point to stay out of students' business offered himself up as a pillar of support?

This wasn't right. None of it was genuine. Why did he have to go for ten years without anyone by his side, and when he finally gained the courage to end his life, they were trying to interfere?

…Of course, it was the universe's way of telling him that he wasn't allowed to be happy. Nothing would ever change. He wasn't even allowed to escape his suffering through death.

Lovino reached the front door, and taking a deep breath, he opened it.

…There was silence on the other side. He wondered if his father was there. He cautiously took a few steps inside, before closing the door.

As if on cue, he could hear the familiar footsteps, and he winced.

"You got into a fight, and got detention," his father said, his voice cold. "Again. Who dropped you off?"

"Mr Zwingli," he said. "He offered."

Romulus sighed.

"I need to remember to thank him," he said. "And apologise for the trouble."

Lovino had to hold in a flinch. If someone else drove Feliciano or Marcello somewhere, then it was just a 'thank you'. No 'sorry for the trouble'. Lovino was the only one he should apologise for.

He expected more screaming, and he expected more harsh words. Instead, what his father told him next surprised him.

"I met Feliks's mother in the store," Romulus said. "She called you 'sweet' and 'considerate'."

Lovino's jaw dropped, and he rounded on his father. Romulus had a blank expression on his face.

"Why is she the only one that's ever said that about you?" Romulus asked. "Why can't you be like that for everyone else?"

Lovino flinched. He should have expected his father to say something like that. But he knew the reasons. She didn't spend enough time with him, and she was nice to him.

Romulus stared at Lovino for a moment before he sighed.

"If you still have homework to do, do it now," he said, before walking away.

Lovino stared after his father in mild shock. He was surprised that he didn't get more of a scolding, but he supposed that Felicja's words had surprised Romulus just as much as Lovino. He was too shocked to say anything more.

Lovino started to climb the stairs, and once he reached the top, he saw that Marcello was waiting for him.

"I tried to explain that you were innocent," Marcello said weakly. "Papa wouldn't listen."

"He never does," Lovino said, walking past his brother. "It would be better if you stop wasting your time. Nothing has ever changed, and nothing will."

…

Marcello entered his room, closing the door behind him. He remembered the conversation he'd had with his father when he returned from school. He tried to explain that Lovino didn't do anything wrong, but his father dismissed him, saying that it was nice that he was trying to protect his brother, but Lovino had to learn to stop being the way he was.

It was the way he said it that made Marcello stop pursuing his argument. It was as though Romulus didn't care to even listen about what was going through his eldest son's mind. He wouldn't even listen to his youngest son's explanation about what was actually happening.

Marcello had always hoped to one day be the type of man his father was. A strong, caring figure. In his mind, he could see a marble statue. But the marble was crumbling. Marcello didn't think he wanted to be like his father anymore.

How could he have been so blind?

And Lovino… What exactly did he mean when he said that Marcello had to stop wasting his time? Did he think… that he was a waste of time?

Nothing has ever changed, and nothing will.