Warning: chapter is emotionally intense. Could be a trigger to some.

Ivan? Wait, the ex-boyfriend Ivan? Francis snapped his eyes away from Gilbert's shocked expression to the smiling man in front of him. Who was this showing up at a time of weakness?

When Ivan caught sight of the shorter white-haired man, his face broke out in dangerous grin. It still looked childish, but Gilbert didn't see anything innocent in that smile. "Little bunny, you have no idea how hard it was to find you," he answered in German, the common language easiest for them to converse in. Ivan's English studies never went far. "And what a surprise to see you living with another man. Is he your new boyfriend? How cute!"

Gilbert's eyes went wide. Forgetting all about Francis, now standing behind and glancing between them, Gilbert started screeching in German. "What the hell are you doing here?! How did you even find me, bastard? No…just, get the hell away from me!" Ivan's words stilled his heart, making it hard to yell. Gilbert stood frozen in the doorway. Shit…just shit, shit, shit. He suppressed a shudder as he glanced back at Francis. He flashed pleading eyes back to Ivan. "It's not what you think! Friends! We're just friends!" He felt himself start to panic which only made Ivan smile more.

"Oh, how lovely. I'd hate for someone to get hurt," Ivan answered. He let out a hum which made Gilbert flinch. "Is that smell coffee? You know how I love a good dark roast." He shifted closer, smiling, always smiling. Those large pale hands clasped together in front of his chest. His foot landed in the doorway and Gilbert snapped.

"You're not invited in!" he howled. He hurled the door closed and fell against it. Hands fumbled against the locks before he got them in place. He couldn't breathe. Air, where the hell did air go? He gulped desperately as he felt his legs go weak. No, he couldn't collapse here. Not out in the open. He needed to…he needed…

Gilbert yelped when a hand grabbed his shoulder. "Stay away from me!" Francis cried out in surprise as Gilbert swatted his hand away. He whirled around and, oh right, Francis. He grabbed the older man's shoulder, his red eyes blown wide. "You're just my friend. You're definitely just my friend! Oh shit!"

"Gil?! What's going on?!" Francis staggered back from Gilbert's strength. He winced as fingers bit deep into his shoulders, the force of their grasp turning dangerous. Francis tried to pry Gilbert's hands away, but he couldn't even loosen his grip. "What did that guy say to you?!" Gilbert echoed the question without a hint of understanding it.

A second later, his eyes went wide again. "Crap, he can get in the back door!" With that, he tore off through the house. Feeling confused and worried, Francis trailed after him, too dazed to stop the younger man. Gilbert flew out the back door and Antonio's head shot up. He barely opened his mouth to question his friend's presence when Gilbert descended on him, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Get inside! Get inside now, damn it!"

One of Antonio's eyebrows quirked as he squared his jaw. "Gilbert, why are you screaming…Ah!" Antonio cried out as Gilbert grabbed his wrist. He narrowed his eyes, still too irritated for human interaction. Gilbert yanked harder though and Antonio lost their tugging battle. He was dragged inside, still stuttering in protest. The second the pair made it inside, Gilbert swung him into Francis who had to catch Antonio's fall. Gilbert jumped back to the door, locking it with a fumble of fingers. "What's going on in here?!" Antonio exclaimed as soon as he got his footing back. Francis didn't let him out of his grip though.

"That's…oh, the windows. What if he's watching us from there? I've got to…t-the curtains!" Gilbert stammered all over his words as he turned toward the sunny windows lining their living room. Before he could run past the other two though, Francis grabbed his arm and off-balanced him enough to pull backwards. Gilbert flailed under his strong momentum and slid to the floor, his arm still held in Francis' grip. "No, no…I seriously don't feel good. Let me go!" Gilbert cried with a feeble yank at his arm. Francis let him go as he dropped to his knees beside him. Antonio watched this with pure confusion. He met Francis' eye for some kind of explanation. Francis looked back, just as frazzled and out of place.

"I don't know either. His ex-boyfriend showed up at the door, I think, and they yelled at each other in German and now Gil's freaking out," Francis explained as best he could. He looked down, but Gilbert didn't elaborate on the story either. Francis wrapped his arms around the other man who might as well have been in another world for all they seemed to be able to reach him. Gilbert sat on the floor, clutching at his chest as he tried to keep speaking. He couldn't seem to though. Antonio's instincts quickly overrode his confusion and misgivings. He dropped down in front of Gilbert and helped him lean forward.

"Hey now, breathe. Look at me!" Antonio framed his face and forced Gilbert to look him in the eye. "You're with us. You're safe." He realized now that Gilbert acted terrified—heart-stopping, painful to see terrified, to a degree far more intense than any other freak-out episode he ever had. Gilbert could freak out like a pro, but he never looked so stricken. Antonio flashed Francis another desperate look. He moved to rubbing Gilbert's back as Francis bit back a series of curses.

"Shit, Gil. What the hell did that guy do to you?!" Francis snapped. Gilbert's head whipped up, his eyes boring into Francis so much he actually reeled backwards.

"What he did to me? He fucking put me in the hospital is what!" Gilbert snarled. That someone would dare ask him about his rightful panic pissed him off. His emotions weren't reasonable anymore. "After I broke up with him, he beat me. With a tire iron! Do you know how many bones he broke?" Gilbert slapped Antonio's hand away from, still pissed at anything and everything—Antonio's tender touch, the way Francis bent over, a hand to his mouth as he tried not to throw up. And oh god, that pity in their eyes. Did they think he wanted to be looked at that way? And yet, Gilbert understood why. He knew these looks, the same ones his family gave when he woke up in the hospital.

"N-no way," Antonio stuttered. "Why would someone do that? Why didn't you ever say anything?" All of a sudden, a realization dawned on him. He suppressed the shiver that went down his spine. "There's more to it isn't there?" Gilbert stuck his hands in his his lap so that his head hung lower than his bunched up shoulders.

Francis still felt sick to his stomach, but he inched closer again. The moment Gilbert said tire iron, images splashed across his imagination, filling it with a pale, broken body. He never wanted to imagine someone he cared about that way. He always had a weak stomach for violence. Why couldn't he keep those images away then? Sitting in front of Gilbert, Francis dropped his hands over the other's fists, covering them with his larger hands. "You can tell us. No judgement."

Gilbert shook as a sigh loosened his muscles. He didn't meet his friends' eyes, but he could breathe easier. Antonio's hand still left warmth on his back and the tight hold Francis kept over his hands stopped them from shaking. With his eyes slipping closed, Gilbert let the past well up in him again as he started to speak. "I've known Ivan most of my life. The last year of school, he asked me out and I said yes. I'd never been in love before. He was my first…pretty much everything. He made me feel special and so completely in love. Bit by bit, I let him creep into my life and take it over." Gilbert breathed in deep. He kept his eyes closed because he really didn't want to know how they looked at him. "The first time he hit me, I figured I deserved it. I got drunk and acted like a total douche insulting him. After that, some kind of door opened. A little here, a little there…the relationship changed so gradual I didn't notice."

"Gilbert!" Antonio exclaimed as he squeezed the younger man around the middle. No other words came to mind. What could he say? What words would express everything going on in his mind? He supposed it was for the best he couldn't figure out what to say because Gilbert kept talking without pause. Antonio didn't even know if he noticed his friends crowded up against him.

"How was I supposed to know my boyfriend was a sadist with a smile? That he held a grudge for all the years I bullied him as a kid because he was foreign and midget-like? No one should expect him to grow into the sort of tall, impressive guy that's utterly my type. And the best part, I still totally loved him! Because for half a year, all he did was give me gifts and say 'love you, love you,' like some kind of broken record. When he wasn't bad, that same guy came back. He always apologized, said his anger got the best of him. But it shouldn't matter anyway because I'm the one who said I liked rough play in the first place. Because ya know, I wanted him to fuck me up. I just didn't realize I gave power over to someone who wouldn't respect it."

"Wait, don't make this sound like your fault! There's no way you can excuse something like that!" Francis exclaimed. He now fully appreciated the look of understanding Gilbert wore when he mentioned abuse. What the heck was this? A nightmare fairytale? He curled again as his stomach lurched. A hand dropped onto his leg, rubbing, and he looked up in surprise. Antonio looked between him and Gilbert like he wanted to wrap around them both, but wasn't big enough for it. He chewed on his lip and it struck Francis that no one else could comfort a person like Antonio. He wasn't any good at it himself.

Gilbert pulled away with a disgusted snort. Antonio and Francis couldn't move fast enough to keep him there. Pacing across the room, Gilbert moved with stiff steps. When he turned back though, a smirk lit up his face. He pointed one finger at his friends still sitting on the floor. "Don't look at me like I'm some kind of victim!" A short laugh escaped his pursed lips. His eyes shone, matching the utter conviction and superiority on his face. "Oh, I got even. No one fucks me over and expects me to just cry about it. I got a friend to slander him all over the internet…well, it's not slander if it's true. Because really, someone needed to say something. He got kicked out of school and no one ever knew it was about me. Perfect right? Even if it meant getting beat with a tire iron after, it was totally worth it." Gilbert gestured toward the other two, half jabbing a finger and half beckoning with his hand. Did he want a response?

"Yeah perfect," Francis and Antonio echoed, too numb from Gilbert's speech to know what they were saying. Antonio managed to get to his feet, though Francis stayed on the floor. He didn't think his legs would work. His mind certainly wasn't. Antonio didn't know if it was alright to get close to Gilbert or not, so he stood by Francis and let the older man cling to his hand. Or was Antonio the one clinging? He didn't know anymore. "…Wait, no it's not. Why is revenge worth that?" Antonio knew Gilbert went eye for an eye when slighted, but he couldn't understand anything being worth a beating like that. Wasn't Gilbert the one not making sense here?

Gilbert shook his head as he stopped pacing. "But I didn't do it for myself no matter how good it felt. It wasn't just revenge. Something like that isn't going to break me. No matter what, I'm strong! No one can take my pride, but…not everyone can fight back like me." He tilted his body away, not quite looking at his audience, but not quite hiding either. He clutched at his arm and glanced back at the other two. Passion burned on his face even as a tremble went through him. "Looking at me, would you guess it? I'm great right?" he crowed, his voice gaining momentum. "But I needed to protect others from him. Most people wouldn't hold their head high after being told they wanted to get hit, or that no one else would love them because they're an idiot with a temper and no money, or they're too different looking and have a bad attitude. So really, I had to do it because I fucking could!"

Ten seconds of silence turned into twenty. Francis pulled on Antonio's hand to get his attention. He understood without needing words and pulled Francis to his feet. It looked like Gilbert finally finished talking. They watched the blaze in his eyes that still filled the room despite its silence. All around them, shadows gathered as the sun set. The room, which had been cheery in with natural light, now turned dim, but not yet so dark that they couldn't see without trouble.

A giant shudder went through Gilbert. Without any warning, the dam in his tear-edged eyes broke. He didn't make a noise as the rivers rolled down his cheeks, not a sniffle, not a sob. It was like the silence grew too thick to stand. He didn't feel the tears coming either, but the second he calmed himself from the tirade, they jumped out. Gilbert squeezed his eyes shut and choked out a few words. "I need to sit!" His legs stopped working though. If he unlocked his knees, he would just slide to the floor.

Antonio reached his side first and led Gilbert to the couch. He dropped Gilbert there and hesitated before Francis beckoned him over to where he stood a few feet behind. Gilbert looked like he mentally left anyway so Antonio didn't feel guilty about leaving his side. The man sat with his hands on his knees, crying like he didn't notice he cried. They would be within eyesight anyway. "What are we going to do?" Francis exclaimed in a whisper as he grabbed Antonio's shoulders. He just shook his head in response. A sniffle broke his voice when he tried to speak.

"I want that man dead," Antonio hissed past his need to cry. Francis dropped his hands and looked away. Unlike when most people said that, Antonio meant it. Threats didn't just live in a heated moment, a simple saying to express anger. He meant them in truth. Francis thanked God that he never incurred that kind of wrath himself even if he saw it before. He shifted and glanced over at Gilbert. The top of his hair was all they could see from over the couch's back. Francis chose not to answer. He didn't want to encourage Antonio by saying Ivan deserved it, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Antonio no either. Francis just changed the topic entirely.

"Just…shit. We knew something happened to him." They both saw the signs in moments Gilbert hesitated to touch or be touched in certain ways. He said things and hinted long ago that Ivan hurt him. Francis guessed already. Seeing it though? He never expected something to this extent. A half sigh, half laugh came out of Francis, not the least bit joyful. It eased some of the tension though. "God, Gil's right about one thing. He doesn't read like a victim at all. I saw something lurking in his closet, but no matter what I expected, it's an entirely different thing to see." Francis never expected to witness so much emotion and pain and then that strength. It awed him when he saw Gilbert's conviction because how could someone stand there like that and look so unbreakable? It left Francis out of breath.

An odd, squeaky noise escaped Antonio. Francis reached out and pulled the other man into his arms. "How can he act so alright and then suddenly not be alright at all? I want to kill that guy. I really want to kill him," Antonio sniffled. Francis rubbed his arms and he leaned into the warmth the other man gave him. "I mean, what if he hurts Gilbert again?"

"Or us," Francis added on. Antonio pulled back to look at him in confusion. The other man shrugged his shoulder in response. "That creep smiled when he looked at me. Gil kept saying we're friends, just friends, like he was desperate to put distance between us. I guess he was afraid since I opened the door. That must look very domestic and all. Guys like Ivan get possessive. How do you think he'd react, seeing his ex living happily with two guys?" Looking at it from that perspective, Francis figured it was only a matter of time before disaster befell them.

Antonio stared back at him, serious. He needed to weigh this new information. After a minute, he shook his head. "If Gilbert didn't go to the police then, I doubt he will now. Maybe Ivan just wanted some answers?" Maybe he didn't come here to make trouble. Antonio could hope at least. He wanted to make trouble himself, but he also realized he might be the only one protecting his friends. He was strong, but not a fighter either. Gilbert wasn't in a state to do anything unless pushed and Francis…he must feel terrified even if it didn't show on his face. He didn't belong in the seedy side of life. "…I think we can only wait."

Why did this have to come now when they already hurt so much? The silence shocked Francis' ear and he wandered back to the couch and checked on Gilbert. The emotional exhaustion won against the young man. Everything inside of him seemed to have seeped, leaving just a husk behind. Unfocused eyes stared at the far wall, just off the corner of the tv, revealing a person who was awake, but not conscious. Francis turned back to Antonio.

"I'm going to order a pizza. Tomatoes? Mushroom? You want that one with the Italian sausage on it?" he asked. It didn't feel like a good night for cooking and greasy, low-class food tasted divine with stress. Antonio hummed in agreement, not really answering any of the questions. Francis accepted the answer though and searched for the pizza place's number. "How about you sit with Gil and…" Francis snapped his fingers as he remembered something. "…the panda."

Antonio's eyelids crinkled as he nodded, the faintest bit of a smile on his face. Francis left to make his phone call and Antonio slipped into Gilbert's room. The panda sat on top of his pillows like usual and he brought it back to the couch. This he sat on Gilbert's lap. No reaction showed on his face, but his arms wrapped around the animal as if on instinct. Antonio turned on the tv and gathered up two game controllers. He set one in Gilbert's hands which he kept hold of, though still dazed. "Want to play a game with me? You know I'm really lost in the fire temple and I can't remember how to equip my other weapon. You're going to have to show me again," he encouraged with a nudge to Gilbert's arm.

Too much silence passed and Antonio thought he went wrong. But the younger man just clicked through the introductory scenes and picked Antonio's game. The familiar music drew Gilbert's attention and he focused on the screen. "…I told you to go left. It's because you keep walking in circles that you'll never find the boss."

xXx

It wasn't easy to fall back into normalcy after that. Antonio glanced at Gilbert who slept on the couch, panda and blanket tucked around him. He refused to go to his room after the eventful day. It seemed to comfort him that his friends stayed near, but at least he didn't look afraid anymore. Antonio smoothed the blanket edge over Gilbert's bare toes. On the rug, Francis wrapped himself into a cocoon with the comforter they laid out. Since he didn't normally steal covers, it surprised Antonio when he woke up relegated to the far corner of the rug without so much as a blanket edge. It must have been the cool air. Just being the cool air, Antonio expected the weirdness to end there.

But two days passed and normal had yet to set in. Or maybe he should say, normal went farther away. What was he comparing normal to anyway? Maybe this was normal, but it felt strange. That thought mattered most. Antonio found himself in the living room yet again, staring at Gilbert as he slept on the couch. The familiar scene lacked his panda, but Gilbert must have thought that after sleeping on the couch for the past few days, he looked too much like a baby. He sacrificed the panda first for the sake of pride. However, he didn't give up the other quirks he developed.

For starters, no drinking of alcohol, and he started working out when left alone too long. He went out running every day, always around their neighborhood; Antonio saw him often from the window in the mornings. Gilbert tried to wake earlier than anyone else and he usually did, getting back from his jog when Antonio still sat at the table, amusing himself with folding objects out of the newspaper. The newspaper came Sunday and he liked to save a page to play with each day until the next came. Sometimes, he read the stories too.

That wasn't today though. On days like this one, Gilbert got up early too many times in a row and finally crashed until noon. Though Antonio suspected he didn't do much sleeping those nights he woke early. How else would he manage the feat? And yet, all of these oddities weren't the most disturbing. The conversation that took place the morning after Ivan's appearance made the least sense, and yet the most of all. Antonio still remembered the casual way Gilbert ended them.

"I wasn't joking about ending things between us. We can't look like more than roommates," Gilbert said in between sips of coffee. The other two just stared at him at the time. They didn't comprehend enough to say anything back. "Just forget about it all. We were only ever friends anyway." He set his cup down, still without a hitch in his voice. So casual, so logical about it. Inside his mind though, Gilbert could only think about how a relationship would get someone killed.

Those words shouldn't have shocked them so much. Neither Antonio or Francis slept with Gilbert since before Thanksgiving. Sure they invited him, but after he admitted his love, it pretty much ended there. Even then, the avenue still felt open though, like Gilbert might break down given time. Never before did he end things so cleanly, so without argument. He never said that he wanted to end them until now.

Antonio stood again, shaking his head at Gilbert's sleeping figure. "You didn't have to say it like we never shared anything at all." He couldn't say one way or another if what existed between them was the love Gilbert wanted, but he knew they created something special. There was at least some kind of love here.

He jumped and whirled when he heard noise behind him. Francis yawned into his hand, his hair looking more matted than Gilbert's ever did on his worst day. Antonio raised an eyebrow. "Being a grad student sucks," Francis offered in explanation as he exited his room. He glanced at the couch, then over at Antonio. "Another peaceful morning, ah…" He checked his watch that he preferred to more modern time-keeping methods. It was so proper that Antonio wanted to laugh. "Yep, it's still morning. Hard to tell when you fall asleep not long before dawn," he added with an eye roll. The work relaxed him though and he didn't mind a late night. It let him forget the rest of his life for a while. Art had that idyllic quality, like life glazed over in rose. The same way most people fell into the fantasy world of a book, he fell into paintings.

Antonio chuckled. "You're very serious when you want to be. Too bad you can't do Gil's homework for him. If he really does fail, he'll lose his scholarship and we won't have a choice. No more UCLA. No more LA." A sad smile pulled one corner of Antonio's mouth as he leaned over the couch back to poke Gilbert's cheek. They only had a month left in this quarter after all. Not a lot of time to turn things around. If he couldn't continue school through the rest of the year, would he leave even earlier? They decided to rent their home for two years, until Gilbert and Francis finished their degrees. It seemed like an obvious choice at the time.

"He doesn't have class today does he? Why don't you suggest he do his work." Gilbert got worse over this last month. Francis considered them lucky he went to class at all. How a person could be as brilliant as Gilbert and so completely uninspired baffled Francis. He waved a hand at Antonio in dismissal. "After all, you're the only one here who doesn't have anything better to do."

Antonio's face fell. "I can't help I got fired from the flower shop," he muttered, kicking his foot at the floor. "Some meanie had to say I was too friendly with the customers. What does that even mean?" He huffed. They hired him because his smile sold flowers to the girls. He was told to flirt with them. Maybe the girls figured out he was gay and felt cheated? Antonio really didn't think he did anything wrong. He needed a steady job because he was about to turn into a loafer. He may have refined the art of mooching off friends and strangers, but he had this wild dream that one day he wouldn't need to.

Francis chuckled and pressed a playful kiss to Antonio's cheek. "Now now, don't complain. Their boyfriends probably just got jealous because you're cuter than them." He waved and headed for the bathroom, leaving Antonio shaking his head with a grin. "I have to turn in this paper, so I'm going to do all the errands too. Make a list if there's anything you need, kay!" he exclaimed before shutting the door. He managed to sound chipper for someone running on four hours of sleep. That could be the loopyness that came with sleep deprivation though. Despite everything going on now, they managed to smile some. Antonio turned back to Gilbert who hadn't moved despite the conversation going on over him.

"If only you'd start to smile too…"

xXx

That night, Gilbert hunkered down on the couch like it wasn't lumpy and stained. His own kicking abused it even more. Antonio considered it a miracle he didn't wake on the floor every morning with how much he tossed in his sleep. Though he supposed it would be easier to sleep in a bed, Gilbert never did so without explanation. The second night, he did try, but the others woke up to him on the couch. What made him move in the middle of the night? Antonio felt odd alone in his own bed with the empty room next door, so he slipped down the hall to Francis' and opened the door.

The older man rolled over and grunted at him, having already turned his lights out. "Can I sleep here tonight?" Antonio asked. Francis stared at him for a minute, but his half awake brain eventually made the right connections. He mumbled in agreement and shifted over with a pat to the bed. Antonio slid under the covers next to him. No words came because they didn't need them. Both knew well enough that he came because of loneliness. Francis just rolled on top of Antonio and looked down at his face like he missed it. He only knew one way to comfort another and he and Antonio fell naturally into it. It had been far too long since they touched each other.

Francis trailed a hand down Antonio's bare chest. He felt the skin there and paused just one second to feel his heartbeat, but it did nothing for him. A strange look passed over Antonio's face, like he might feel the same offness. He still brushed a hand against Francis' waistband. Rather than insist on more though, he sighed and dropped his hand back to the bed. Francis shook his head and rolled back. "It doesn't feel right at all." Knowing they lay together and Gilbert lay alone didn't feel right, even just to comfort each other. The three of them were officially nothing now so why did it feel like cheating?

"I miss him," Antonio whispered in a voice far too serious for him. "He's not even gone yet and I miss him." He stretched out on his side, facing Francis. For a minute, they just looked at each other. In the soft gold light of street lamps, cicadas calling outside, and the faint touch of ocean in the air, Francis realized something. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Antonio's.

"I don't want this," Francis said as if speaking the most astounding piece of information. Antonio looked at him in confusion. He shifted away a little, not sure if this meant him or their failed attempt to comfort each other since they already knew they didn't want that. Nothing could be more obvious. Francis shook his head, capturing Antonio's arm to keep him there. "I don't want this to be the end of us, any of us." The conviction in his voice brushed through the room. Francis let Gilbert pull away all this time because he was too afraid to love. He wasn't afraid anymore. His breath sent a shiver through Antonio, tickling his lips still inches from the other man's. Antonio lifted his eyes to meet Francis' and everything stilled. The feelings seemed to pass between them with the locking of their eyes so that the revelation taking over Francis took over Antonio as well. The younger man looked down as if he might see the change in his heart from here.

"Toni, I don't want Gilbert to leave. I want to fight for what we have."

(AN: I'm so sorry. I keep using Russia as a bad guy. I'm a little worried this chapter was a little too dramatic to believe, but it just developed that way. Is it out of character? Out of place in the story? I don't even know anymore after working on this fic for so long. Let me know what you think.

And I swear I'll write a happy RusPrus fic one day! X.X I love you Ivan...)