-Lovino-

His head hurt, and he was cold. The fact that he was cold put him on high alert, because he hadn't been cold since he had arrived in Spain. He had been pleasantly warm, sweltering hot, and everything in-between, but never cold. He tried to sit up, but found it damn near impossible. For one, his limbs felt heavy, as if he'd been running a marathon for days. Everything hurt. The cold, unforgiving stone floor didn't help at all, either. Secondly, his arms and legs were bound, and boy did he underestimate the importance of his limbs in something as simple as fucking sitting up.

So he was just stuck wriggling like a worm, trying desperately to right himself. At least, until a booted foot landed square against his stomach, knocking the breath out of him. He gasped for air, curling in on himself.

"Stop squirming, you pathetic piece of shit. I don't know what the fuck that moron sees in you, but for your sake, he better get here soon."

Lovino struggled to raise his head. He tried to speak around his gag, but all that came out was an incomprehensible mumble. His captor seemed to get the gist of it though.

"…W-who…the fuck…are you?"

"Doesn't matter who I am, you fucking homo. All that matters is that your boyfriend comes to collect his whore."

Lovino wanted to cuss at him, but he still wasn't sure what he was dealing with. Contrary to popular belief, he did know when to shut his mouth. The boot came down on his back, and he groaned in pain.

"Fucking disgusting. Who the hell in their right mind would put someone like him in charge of anything? Old bastard must have been out of his mind."

Lovino struggled to breathe. It felt like his lungs were being squeezed in a too-tight corset. He was about to pass out when the sound of men screaming in agony assaulted his eardrums. His captor scowled, and Lovino gulped in air as the boot was lifted.

"Ah. He's here."

Lovino watched wide-eyed as the door of the compound slammed open, and Antonio walked in.

He was, different.

Like…really different.

From the way he walked, to the way he was dressed, everything about him was different. He had seen him in vibrant clothing, but at that moment he was dressed in all black; from the shirt, to the boots, to the gloves. His ever-present grin wasn't present, instead it was replaced with a cold-blooded, frigid scowl. But that all dimmed in the fact that he was carrying an enormous fucking axe on his shoulder.

What the fuck.

Where do you even get one like that? It looked like one that a Spanish conquistador might have back in the 1500-1600's or something. The handle was a deep wood, but the blade was shining threateningly, even in the dim light. The decorations on in it made it seem almost hauntingly beautiful, but there was no mistaking how utterly lethal it was to the wrong person. Lovino almost gagged at the drops of crimson fluid that were slowly making their way down the blade, and onto the ground.

"Ah! It looks like I'll need a clean-up crew and some new recruits. You always were the type to just swing, and those who moved survived and those who didn't died. Anyway, I'm so glad to jjsee you decided to join us, mi hermano."

Brother? This was Antonio's brother?

"Cut the shit, Fernando. Let him go."

"Hm…no."

Lovino grunted as he was yanked up by hair, and soon a knife was under his throat. He tried to move away from it, but it was so close that even swallowing seemed dangerous. Antonio's expression didn't waiver, but his grip on his axe tightened, and his eyes flashed dangerously.

"Lo puso abajo. Esto es entre tú y yo."

'Put him down. This is between you and me.'

"¿Por qué diablos debo hacer eso? Tomaste algo importante de mi parte; se trata de un comercio justo."

'Why the fuck should I do that? You took something important from me; it's a fair trade.'

"Yo ni siquiera quiero en primer lugar!"

'I didn't even want it in the first place!'

"Eso no importa!"

'That doesn't matter!'

Lovino winced as the grip on his hair tightened, and flinched as he felt the first prick against his throat. Antonio followed the movement of the knife, and his scowl increased ten-fold. Fernando dropped his calm, detached façade, finally snapping and shouting at his younger brother.

"That doesn't matter, because you fucking ruined this family! You RUINED it! We were royalty before you had to step in and fuck shit up!"

"It wasn't me-"

"It was our bat-shit crazy grandfather, I know. But instead of helping us in our time of need, you turned your back on us and everything we built as a family!"

"Don't insult him like that! And fuck helping you! What about all the people whose lives you ruined?! Where was their help?"

"You chose them over your own family?!"

"MY FAMILY CHOSE POWER OVER ME!"

Fernando shrank back, the force of Antonio's yell almost a physical blow. Lovino had never seen a man's face contort like his- it looked like it was cycling through several expressions, as if it couldn't decide what to choose. It settled on the cold scowl that he had worn on the way in, only harder and sharper.

"When it became apparent that I wasn't going to bend the hell over and let you continue your reign of terror, all of a sudden I was a stain on the bottom of your boots; unworthy to even be acknowledged. You were all so focused on making sure that the sun didn't set on your own sick, twisted little empire that I was considered useless. You never even said you loved me. Never even told me you tolerated me."

He raised the axe into a more threatening position, and it became clear to both Lovino and Fernando that yes, he was prepared to use it, and no, he would not feel the slightest bit guilty about it.

"And I will be damned, if I let any of you disgusting animals lay your hands on anyone I care about, and who truly cares about me. So either you let him go willingly…."

His grip tightened even more, and his scowl turned into a glare so powerful that Lovino felt a shudder run down his spine.

"Or I will chop off your fucking hands off and make you."

-3rd Person-

Lovino was thrown to the side roughly, and he was torn between being grateful for not having a knife against his throat, and swearing at the pain of being thrown onto a stone floor. With a great deal of effort, he rolled over, and fought until he was sitting upright. He leaned over and groaned through his gag, but watched in horrified fascination as Antonio charged at his brother.

Now that he could actually see him, the relation was clear as day. They both had the same brunette curls (though Fernando's was longer), tanned skin, and facial structure. But what was different were the eyes. If Antonio's eyes were emeralds, the others eyes were smoky quartz. The brown was light enough to almost be considered hazel, but not quite. They moved with the grace of those who had done this thousands of times before, both with outsiders, and against each other. And Lovino was right, they had done this against each other more times than either could count. But this was different. Fernando wielded his knives (when had he pulled out a second one?) with the intent to slit a throat, and Antonio swung his axe with the intent to dismember.

They ducked and sliced, dancing a deadly waltz that one missed step meant the end, permanently, for one of the partners. Lovino attempted to cry out and failed when Fernando got a lucky shot in, giving a nice, clean cut to Antonio's upper arm. Antonio paid it no mind, swinging in retaliation, narrowly missing chopping the other's arm clean off. Lovino didn't understand how Antonio could twirl and swing that thing around so easily. It looked heavy, and probably was heavy. But Antonio used it to his advantage, giving it destructive power with every blow.

He didn't know how long it lasted, but it was over in a flash. Fernando had been steadily backing away, trying to keep out of reach of Antonio's weapon, when he slipped. He fell backwards, and Antonio took his chance. He raised the weapon over his head, and brought it down.

It was quiet for a while, the only sound being the exhausted huffs of two men, and groans of pain. Lovino strained to look. He was let out a victorious yell when he saw Fernando on the ground, unresponsive. But it turned into a look of horror when he noticed that not all of the blood was his. Antonio pulled his axe out of the ground where it had embedded itself, and severed his brother's arm. But he fell to his knees, and Lovino let out a terrified scream when he noticed the wound in Antonio's side, which was bleeding rather steadily. Antonio had brought his weapon down at the same time that Fernando had thrust his upwards, leaving neither of them unscathed.

All Lovino could do was shriek as Antonio fell to his knees, and then to the floor.

-A/N-

CLIFFHANGER DUNDUNDUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNN!