It's hard to see, but I promise there is a better ending.

0o0o0o

Ludwig stayed there, fingers digging into the rough roof tiles. Numb. Gilbert was quiet and still for once in his life. For the first time, he truly looked vulnerable. Antonio was wiping at his face, choking on the words of it'll be okay, it will all be okay, but there was a hollowness to them. This disease loomed over them, a very real death, an end to the firebrand epic of Gilbert, street fighter, big brother, flipping between too soft for the world and so sharp you couldn't get close.

'I need another cigarette,' Gilbert mumbled, and Ludwig heard the catch of his breath that meant he was holding back tears.

'No, you don't.' Antonio slid the box out of his pocket, and Gilbert went slack with relief even though his fingers twitched like he was already going through withdrawal. Antonio took a deep breath and gripped Gilbert's shoulders, but there was no conviction in the movement, and he slumped, pulling Gilbert close again. 'You have to stop doing this, Gilbert. All of this. The drinking, and the running away, and the fighting. For Ludwig, if not for you.'

'I'm trying.'

'You aren't. I told you before.'

'I'll be gone soon enough,' Gilbert said with a trace of humour. When Antonio didn't answer, he shook him, gently, and then harder. 'I'm going to run away. You know that. You said it yourself that I'm not going to die.'

'But do you believe that?' Antonio asked. 'You can't give up. You're already trying to make it so that Ludwig doesn't need you-don't look at me like that. I'm right, aren't I? And yet you turn around and expect that he'll take your word as gospel and never go out and try to find out things for himself.'

'Antonio, I want the best for him. I want him to be safe. Being gay is not being safe. Look at me.' Gilbert flung his arms out.

'Hiding himself for the rest of his life won't be the best. Gilbert, you can't fight anyone who uses a slur and then tell him never to be himself.'

'I just-Antonio, please.' Gilbert looked suddenly exhausted. 'Maybe, someday, things will change. I'm trying to make them change. But he's going to get hurt. Look at him-look at him, Antonio, he doesn't even know how to hide it. He doesn't know the things we do. The kinds of things that happen to people like us.'

Antonio closed his eyes.

'Maybe if you'd stay around, Gilbert, and teach him those things, he'd understand,' he said, but there was no venom, only weariness.

'You say that like you aren't going to leave.'

'That's different. I don't want to leave Lovi, but I can't stay in this city if my father's around.' Antonio's face briefly twisted in pain, but he forced it away. 'Is your grandfather still giving you the ultimatum? Gilbert, maybe if you tell him this-'

'Tell him I'm going to die because I'm gay? At least I've still got a couple months this way.' His face twisted and he swore. 'A couple years. I can't believe I was so stupid.'

'You aren't going to die. Francis and I will help you get the money somehow, Gilbert, listen-'

Gilbert pulled away. Tears shone in his eyelashes. 'Antonio, promise me you'll make sure Ludwig's okay. When I do...leave.'

Antonio stared back at him, pain echoing through his face. 'Gilbert, stop.'

'Promise me, Antonio. I already promised you I'd take care of him. It's your turn now.'

'You didn't do a good job of fulfilling your promises. Any of them,' Antonio whispered, tears finally rolling down his cheeks. Gilbert wiped at his eyes and laughed hoarsely.

'I'm sorry.' He gently cupped Antonio's face, brushing away his tears. 'You can't stop me from leaving, but you can make sure everyone else is okay.' His voice dropped. 'Do this for Lovino. Make sure he doesn't have to watch his little brother go through what we have.'

That broke him, and Gilbert knew it. Antonio shook his head desperately, but more tears were welling from his eyes. Lovino was Antonio's weakness, and Gilbert knew it.

'I promise,' Antonio finally said, and the first choked noise wracked out of his throat. He pushed Gilbert back, shaking his head again, trying to stop from shattering. 'I will. You know I will, Gilbert. Go. Just go.'

Gilbert nodded once, and turned to leave him. Ludwig held still. He couldn't find the energy to get back inside his room. If Gilbert opened his door and saw him, he would have no excuses. For once, he didn't need them.

When he got inside, Gilbert lost his careful bravado. Ludwig heard him downstairs, crying again, and then the clink of glass and the hiss of a bottle being opened. The crying grew softer, more ragged, until it stopped and Gilbert staggered upstairs. Ludwig could hear every time he stumbled on the stairs and the way he fell into bed.

Below the window, Antonio was crying, half-curled into himself, stuffing his fist into his mouth to stop the noise. He fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette and scraped the matches on the brick to light them. He lit it with trembling hands, taking deep gasps of acrid smoke like it would heal every hurt he had until his sobs slowed.

Antonio watched his cigarette burn to a stub and finally crushed it under his foot. He took a deep breath and deliberately put Gilbert's box of cigarettes back into his pocket. He leaned back against the wall, wiping off his face. When he was done, he simply stood for a long moment.

'I thought you were scared of heights,' he finally said, and fear shot through Ludwig. Antonio opened his eyes. 'Ludwig, I saw you. I know you're listening to me. You flinch whenever Gilbert moves too fast.'

Ludwig silently unfolded himself and crawled to the edge of the roof. It didn't seem worthwhile saying it was actually falling, or the way Gilbert had argued once. He stayed quiet. He was too tired.

Antonio looked up at him, a faint smile flickering across his lips.

'How much did you hear? I noticed you were up there when Gilbert started talking about how you can't hide that certain way you feel-it's true, by the way.'

'Enough,' Ludwig managed.

'I asked a few of those questions for you,' Antonio said. He leaned back against Feliciano's house. 'Do you want to know anything else? I'm tired of the way Gilbert thinks keeping you in the dark keeps you safe.'

'He's really leaving?' Ludwig asked.

'As soon as he can. As soon as he gets enough money to, that is.'

'I thought…' It was stupid, but Ludwig couldn't stop himself from speaking it as soon as it crossed his mind. 'I thought he was staying for me.'

'He was. He would have, if he hadn't come out. Your grandfather gave him an ultimatum. Stop seeing Roderich or leave when he's eighteen. He chose to leave.' Antonio's expression softened. 'Ludwig, don't think he's choosing Roderich over you. He wouldn't do that. He sees it as that he has to change his entire identity or leave, and he's too proud to simply hide it until he can leave safely.'

'So he's choosing his pride over me.'

Antonio's jaw tightened. 'This isn't an excuse, Ludwig, but Gilbert's been going through a lot, and he doesn't think he's...he doesn't feel like he's good enough sometimes. That means that he wants to distance you from him because he thinks you might get hurt. He cares for you. He really does.'

'He isn't showing it very well,' Ludwig said.

'No. He certainly isn't.' Antonio wiped at his eyes again and took a deep, steadier breath. 'I meant what I promised.'

Ludwig just nodded. His throat was too thick to speak. Antonio pressed his lips together.

'I'm sorry, Ludwig,' he said. His voice was just quiet, rather than sympathetic. Ludwig was glad.

'I...I should be going,' Antonio said after a long pause.

'I don't know what to do,' Ludwig confessed, fear lancing through him again.

'All we can do is keep living and loving, because life has to always get better. Even with your firebrand of a brother in it.' Antonio's hand twitched towards his pocket again, itching for more smoke. He hesitated, then grabbed the box and threw it over the fence into the backstreet. He bent over, panting. 'I shouldn't have had that one cigarette.'

'Do you smoke?' Ludwig asked. Antonio gave a pained grimace.

'I quit. Just like Gilbert quit drinking,' he said, bitter resent dripping through his voice. The change in tone caught Ludwig off guard. 'Except I hear your brother isn't throwing his bottle over the fence. Go to bed.'

Ludwig did. Dimly, he heard Antonio tossing pebbles at a window, and Lovino's sleep-roughened demand of what are you doing? before he fell silent, and said, quietly, come in.

Ludwig shut the window and buried his face in the pillow so he couldn't hear Gilbert's nightmares.

0o0o0o

The birds were up in the early morning, with sunlight blushing through the grey and painting the clouds pink and orange. Feliciano woke up, and for a second, it was like he was still dreaming, half-caught in the feel of hands running along his sides and the press of a soft mouth and the sound of his name in Ludwig's voice.

Feliciano snapped awake, embarrassed and guilty and somehow excited. He stared at the ceiling, trying to calm his breathing, trying to figure out what he felt about the dream beyond his tangled first impression. It was too confusing, and so he put it aside for now.

He stuck a note on the window and rushed downstairs. Lovino and Nonno were bent together, arguing quietly. Lovino shook the pill bottle.

'They're not working!' he hissed, cutting off a protest that they needed a stronger prescription. 'You're getting worse, you're dizzy-' Lovino stopped abruptly as Feliciano stopped at the end of the stairs. He cast a final look at Nonno, who looked horrible, pale and uneasy.

'Breakfast is on the table,' Lovino said, stuffing the pill bottle into his jacket pocket. 'Feliciano, make sure Nonno eats something. I'm going to the store.'

'Lovi, wait!' Feliciano grabbed his sleeve before he left and gathered his resolve. 'I want you to tell me what's happening with this...cold. You too, Nonno.'

'It's not a cold,' Lovino said disgustedly. 'I don't know much either, Feliciano. He won't say anything, but it's not a cold.'

'Feliciano, I'm fine. I'm old, it happens sometimes that a flu lasts for a while.'

'Bullshit,' Lovino snarled. 'You're sick. All those pills you've been taking aren't doing anything. We're going to get you tested.'

Panic flared in Roma's eyes. 'No. It's fine. It'll pass.'

'It won't.'

'Please, Lovi.' He looked like he was struggling for words. 'We can't.'

Lovino stood there in the doorway, teeth gritted, wavering between decisions.

'Fine,' he said. 'I won't get you tested if you don't get worse. But I'm still going to the store.' He turned on his heel and left, slamming the door behind him.

'Come and eat, Feli,' Nonno said, sounding tired, but he smiled. 'Your brother is just worried. When he has a wife and kids of his own, he'll realize you can't worry about every bump in the road-'

'Lovi's not going to have a wife, though,' Feliciano said before he realized his mistake. He froze and stared at the grain of the table, hoping against hope and the dull dread in his stomach that this wouldn't go how Gilbert's had.

Nonno set his utensils down.

'It's in his best interests that he gets a wife instead,' he said softly. Feliciano didn't answer. 'People like him, they get hurt.'

'I know,' Feliciano said, feeling sick.

'Feliciano, look at me.' The worst part was that his voice was gentle, and some small, childish part of Feliciano wanted to believe what he said because it was his grandfather, who always took care of him. 'It's for a good reason. I...I have experience, Feliciano. I know what happens. I don't want him to get hurt.'

0o0o0o

I'm sorry for what will end up happening before the end.

:: Campfires at sunset