Chapter Four

'Please let this be a coincidence... please don't come to the house.' Feliciano begged inside his head, his fingers clawing at the blankets that were tucked in around him. His heart pounded against his chest, as terrified, he threw the blankets off of him. The Italian hissed in pain, and frustrated tears welled up in his eyes as he lay back down against his pillow. He didn't have any energy – he didn't stand a chance against the German.

He closed his eyes slowly, angry at himself for being so careless. Then, he groaned in pain. His arm hurt, along with the rest of his body. Everything hurt, despite the pain killers he had been put on. Lovino had told Feliciano once, that even pain killers didn't take away the pain altogether, just numbed it and made it bearable. He missed his brother so much...

"I'm here to speak to Veneziano," the German's voice was heavy with authority, and Feliciano begged himself not to cry. The thought of running was so far etched into his brain, that he'd never really thought about what would happen if he was caught. Now though, the thoughts rushed through his head, as fast as bullets. They were both deafening and quiet at the same time, and to Feliciano, it was absolutely terrifying.

The scariest part though, was that Feliciano could do absolutely nothing about it.

Ludwig had been waiting for this. The day when he could handcuff Vargas, and tell him that he was under arrest. He knew that it had taken a few months, but he was glad that the time was finally there. The doctor slowly led him to the room, brow furrowed from the news that the German had just told him. Ludwig knew that the man was trying to wrap his hands over the idea that the seemingly innocent man inside the room could have committed a crime.

Upon scanning the room, Ludwig found that bed of the room was empty, and that the window was open. His mind quickly flashed to the conclusion that Vargas had climbed through the window, and had started running, but he discarded the idea almost immediately. From what the doctor had told him about Vargas' condition, the Italian wouldn't have the energy to do much, before passing out.

He took a step into the room, surprised when he saw Vargas sat down on one of the chairs that had been out of sight by the door. He had known that the Italian wouldn't have gone far, but he'd expected him to hide or something. He'd grown rather used to the game of hide and seek that the other seemed to play.

"Vargas." Ludwig spoke icily, looking at the brunette with a cold glare. He was stunned to see that the Italian was so injured, but didn't stray too much on the fact. Instead he placed his focus on what was important – the fact that he had to apprehend the smaller man. He waited for the Italian to protest, for his eyes to widen as he realised just what was happening.

"That's me," the criminal replied, his voice drowsy, as he battled whatever pain medication he was on to stay away. His resistance didn't seem to work, and Vargas let out a yawn. Ludwig had the idea that if Vargas wasn't so drowsy, he'd have been out of the door without even a second thought.

"You're under arrest." He told the Italian, watching as the man's eyes fluttered shut. Vargas stared back at him with sleepless eyes, and he shrugged.

"I know," he yawned, "you caught me, I'm yours now."

Half asleep, Feliciano barely realised when the German and the Doctor prepared him to leave. He did however, register when they were leaving the room, and after pushing himself rather clumsily away from the German, he thanked the Doctor whole heartedly for helping him with his injuries. The German took the medicine that Feliciano would need, before picking the Italian up and making his way through the town to his car.

"Where are you taking me?" Feliciano asked, telling himself that it would not be acceptable to fall asleep in the German's arm. He couldn't deny that the man was a good pillow though, and rested his head into the man's chest.

"Jail."

The Italian knew that he should have expected that much – he knew that soon he would be wearing a prison uniform, getting abused by other prisoners for his innocent appearance. Feliciano presumed that to the German, he was just another criminal who would be brought to justice.

"What's your name?"

The man paused, and tensed slightly. Feliciano didn't know what was so wrong with his question; he wanted to know the man's name so that he didn't keep calling him 'the German' in his head. It made sense didn't it?

"Beilschmidt." The man finally replied, when he placed Feliciano somewhere. The Italian didn't wanted to ask Beilschmidt more questions, but he had a feeling in the back of his head that if he did, that the man would probably lose his temper, and Feliciano didn't know what could happen. He had just one more question to ask though,

"Is Lovino, my brother, alright?"

Beilschmidt paused, and for a while he didn't speak. Instead he focused on putting a belt around the brunette, and closing the car door. He didn't respond for a few minutes,

"When we questioned him a few weeks ago he was safe."

Feliciano let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. A few tears rolled down his cheeks, and he smiled despite his situation. He was glad that his brother's safety was intact.

"Good, I miss him very much."

Neither Feliciano nor Beilschmidt talked during the car drive – Beilschmidt focusing on the road, asking himself why Feliciano would question his brother's safety; Feliciano focusing on looking out of the window, trying not to fall to sleep.

Sorry the chapter's short. But it's more of a filler for what'll come up soon.