"For an eternity I dreamt of meeting you again, but never had I thought it'd be so. You and I were on two separate paths that crossed once only by chance. I never believed I'd be lucky enough for them to cross a second time."

It had been nearly a year since Ludwig had walked down that street.

Nearly an entire year Feliciano had paused upon seeing his tree, every time he stepped out the front door. For nearly an entire year Feliciano had stopped midway down the forest trail to listen for a voice he could no longer hear. Lovino had told Feliciano he was better off without the blonde, that nothing good could have ever come from a man like him. Some rational part of his brain understood and accepted what Lovino was saying, so he nodded when spoken to and moved on to continue his day. But there was a larger, stronger part of him – he didn't quite know if it was his mind or not – that told him Ludwig wasn't a bad person. That part of him cast watchful gazes into the woods, stopped his feet upon looking down that long street, eyes alert as he tried to catch even a glimpse of those impossibly blue eyes again.

Every day, Feliciano had been left disappointed and dejected. Every single day.

For nearly an entire year Feliciano had waited.

…

"Hola, Feli! Why so glum?"

Feliciano looked up into Antonio's smiling face and tried his best to return the effort. "Oh, did I look sad? I didn't mean to." The Italian inwardly cringed at that last sentence. Even he knew how bad that had sounded.

Antonio raised an eyebrow as he took a seat next to Feliciano. They were currently in the Spaniard's living room, seated on a large, tan-colored sofa. Feliciano had come to visit per Antonio's request, since Lovino was too busy buying groceries, but realized he had done nothing but mope around, staring out the large window to his right. He suddenly felt himself growing nervous, and was about to apologize, but the carefree yet all-knowing smile on the older man's face stopped him.

"Is this about Ludwig again?"

Antonio had been the only person Feliciano had really confided in about his meeting with Ludwig. The only other people who knew about him were his older brother (who tried to avoid talking about the topic unless absolutely necessary) and Francis, who worked at the same restaurant as him. And Francis only knew because he had some freaky sixth sense about such matters, and all but forced it out of the worried Italian. Antonio was probably the only person other than Feliciano to know the whole story, and as a result, was the man Feliciano had gone to whenever he needed to get his anxieties off his chest.

Remembering he needed to respond, he simply nodded and quietly said, "Yeah."

Antonio thought for a moment, tapping his finger against his chin. "Feliciano?"

Feliciano looked up upon hearing his name. "Ve?"

"Feliciano," Antonio repeated again, "do you want to see Ludwig again?"

All Feliciano could do was give a weak nod.

"Do you think Ludwig wants to see you again?"

This was something Feliciano had spent more time than he should have thinking about. Even if, by some impossible chance, their paths did cross…would Ludwig be happy? Did Ludwig miss him, or think about him, even a little? The chances of that seemed depressingly slim. "Probably not," he admitted.

"But there's the possibility he does?"

"I guess."

"Then," Antonio's emerald eyes glimmered with something akin to excitement, or hope, as he spoke. "You have to believe you'll meet again. They say if two people love each other, they'll always come back to each other, right?"

Feliciano tilted his head at Antonio curiously. "Ve? Love?"

Antonio blushed and scratched the back of his head, a bright grin splitting his face. "At least, that's what I always think about Lovino and me…"

As if on cue, the Spaniard's front door was brutally kicked open, revealing a second Italian wearing his typical scowl on his face. Antonio jumped up off the couch and ran over, wrapping Lovino up in a tight hug. "Lovi, Lovi, welcome back! You look adorable as always, yes you do, my cute little Lovi…!"

At the showy display of affection, a fierce blush spread over Lovino's face and reached up to his ears. He made no move to remove himself from Antonio's embrace until he caught sight of Feliciano giggling on the sofa, to which he cursed indignantly and shoved the Spaniard away. Antonio joined in with Feliciano's giggles, poking Lovino's face all the while.

"Awww, Lovino, you are so cu-ute! You look just like a tomato!"

If even possible, Lovino's face reddened further, and he leapt forward with the intention of maiming the Spaniard. However, Antonio used the opportunity to lean in and steal a quick kiss, which left the other man instantly silenced. Antonio smiled, then took Lovino's hand and led him over to the sofa where Feliciano was and sat them both down. It was rare Feliciano got to see Lovino so tame, and it made him happy Antonio was able to calm him down like that. Antonio was a good man, and his love for Lovino was so deeply engraved in his eyes that Feliciano had few worries about the Spaniard breaking his brother's heart. Lovino's eyes slid past Antonio's form and onto Feliciano, then his eyes widened, like he'd just remembered something.

"Oh, yeah. I was got a call when I stopped by the house a few minutes ago, fratellino. Your boss wants you to come in for work today. Said something about half the other workers being sick or whatever. I say you leave the man to figure out this damn mess on his own, since it's your day off and all. You shouldn't give a shit about work on your day off, you know?"

"No, it's no problem. I have nothing to do anyway," Feliciano sang as he stood up and stretched.

"You sure, Feliciano?" Antonio asked, glancing outside. "It's already getting pretty late outside. It'll probably be dark by the time you get home."

"Ve, that's okay," Feliciano responded with a quick smile. As he was putting on his jacket, before stepping out the door, he threw a glance back over his shoulder and said, "I'll be back sometime tonight!" And then he was gone.

Neither man on the couch said a word as the door clicked closed. After some time, Lovino spoke up, his voice low. "What were you two talking about?"

Antonio smiled and leaned over, resting his head on the Italian's shoulder and allowed his eyes to close peacefully. "Oh, you know. The weather."

Lovino sighed and bent his neck to look up at the ceiling. "Feliciano still hasn't given up on him?"

"I don't know if he ever will."

Lovino huffed, but said no more. Antonio's eyes opened and slid up to look at his partner's face, suddenly serious. "Lovino, if I were the one that walked away, would you wait for me like that?"

Lovino regarded Antonio with a bemused expression. "Like that? Hell no."

When Antonio's brow furrowed in either confusion or skepticism, Lovino had to bite back a chuckle. His expression earnest, Antonio pushed forward. "But, you would? Wait, I mean?"

The Italian closed his forest green eyes and leaned back on the couch, sinking deep into the cushions. Feeling Antonio's warmth against his skin, his pensive stare as he awaited an answer, the waves of nervousness that seemed to radiate off his normally confident form… "Yeah, I'd wait for you, jerk. But I swear if you ever do leave, you'd sure as hell better promise you're gonna come back."

Antonio's gaze softened immediately, and he nuzzled into the smaller man's shoulder again as he relaxed. "I don't think you'd have to worry about that, Lovi."

Without looking, Lovino asked, "And why's that?"

"Because no matter how many miles stand between us, no matter the consequences or the time it'll take or my reasons for leaving, I'll always come back." Antonio's voice quieted so much, Lovino could barely pick up on the words. "As long as you love me, nothing could keep me away."

Lovino wanted to tell Antonio how terribly cheesy his little speech had been, but something held him back. Instead, he ran his thin fingers gently through Antonio's soft brown curls, and placed his lips to the top of his head, watching as the sun set through the glass in the window.

…

Il sole had, in fact, been hit with a surprise dinner crowd that night, and surprisingly, it was no exaggeration on his boss's part when he had said that literally half the workforce was absent. That had left Francis and Feliciano, along with a few other people, to cook for an unfair amount of customers. Once the rush had died down, that same group of people had to be forced to clean up the place, despite the groans and the wails of protest that escaped each of their mouths. It was already past midnight when the tired cooks had been allowed to leave.

As if it weren't bad enough, rain had started to fall an hour ago, and it had turned from simply raining to an all-out thunderstorm.

Feliciano cried out as lightning struck somewhere in the distance, instinctively ducking his head and moving away from the window. He felt himself back up against something and jumped, spinning around.

Francis watched him with a concerned expression, his normally spick-and-span appearance worn from the endless hours of working. With a gentle voice, he asked, "Will you be able to get home safely on your own, Feli? If not, I can give you a ride…"

Feliciano squeaked as he tried to keep himself calm as the thunder rolled in. "N-N-No, I'll be okay. I'm gonna give my brother a call to pick me up…Grazie."

Francis nodded once before putting on his nice coat – Feliciano felt bad because it would probably get ruined in the downpour – and walking out the door. Feliciano managed his way to one of the tables and sat down, took out his phone, and dialed Lovino's number.

It rang. And rang. And rang. It rang until the voicemail kicked in, leaving Feliciano off-put. He tried one more time, then tried Antonio's cell, then both of their houses' numbers… No good. The Italian cast a nervous glance outside, where white flashes dominated the sky, lighting up each individual raindrop as they pounded on the muddy earth. Feliciano gulped. Why didn't he ask Francis to stay around for just a little longer? He was now the only person left in the building. Alone. With an entire vicious lightning storm standing between him and home.

He knew it was stupid, but really, what other choice did he have? Feliciano raised his coat up over his head, gathered every shred of courage he could muster, and ran.

Almost instantly he was soaked to the bone, despite the coat offering whatever minuscule resistance it could. He forgot all about it when the next flash of lightning lit up the sky, thunder not far behind. Feliciano bit back a scream as he pushed forward on the slick ground. The trees on either side of him loomed high above him, looking down at him with hungry smiles etched into their skin. The moon was nonexistent tonight, not even present to mock him as it often did. All that could be seen was rain and dark clouds. How desperately Feliciano found himself wishing for the sun to come out. The sun would chase away all these scary things. The sun would…

Suddenly, Feliciano's foot slipped on the thick mud beneath. He fell forward, and managed to catch himself on a low-hanging branch – narrowly avoiding being covered in the muck. He allowed himself to breathe a sigh a relief, then stood himself back up on shaky feet. He was about to start moving again when a strange sound reached his ears. He paused. It was hard to hear beyond the pouring rain and the thunder, but…it was there. Gunfire, and the sound of people shouting. Feliciano's head whipped up, his eyes suddenly focused on some distant place beyond the trees. Ludwig.

If running towards a man while alone in the woods in the dark had been stupid before, Feliciano was now insane. The forest looked different due to the weather, but his feet carried him to that place, where he had traveled every week, looking for those blue eyes. He stumbled through the dense trees, ignoring the thunder and lightning, focused only on Ludwig. Would he see Ludwig again? Was he okay?

Feliciano broke into the familiar forest clearing and stopped. There was nothing. It was just as it had been every day since Ludwig's disappearance, and he could have sworn he felt his heart begin to break. Just then, however, another shout rang out from his left – senses alert once more, Feliciano ran in the direction of the voice. They were rapidly getting louder as Feliciano grew closer, and he wheezed out exhausted breaths, legs beginning to give out. He slowed and put a hand against a nearby tree for support. Upon hearing a shriek, Feliciano's head snapped up, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

The trees were sparser here, at the edge of the woods. If one looked past them, they could see a large expanse of empty field spread until the horizon. However, Feliciano didn't care about all that. All he could focus on in the midst of all the chaos were the angels.

Men and women darted across the sky, kept aloft by large, feathery wings. Feliciano couldn't believe it, and he raised a hand to his mouth in an empty gasp. People were flying, spiraling through the air in a sort of organized madness. He couldn't see their faces, but Feliciano's fascination got put on hold as soon as he saw what they were holding.

Various weapons, ranging from swords to modern-day guns, were poised by each angel as they prepared their strike. Feliciano could see some break off into pairs as they fought each other, and he took a step back in horror as an angel fell from the sky, pure white wings trailing behind him. The angel landed not ten feet away from Feliciano's current position, and the Italian could see the injury – a horrible gash covered the length of the torso, probably from one of those wicked looking swords. The angel didn't move. Feliciano whimpered, then screamed as a machine gun sounded nearby. He turned away from the violence, and almost begun running the other way, when a woman lowered herself from the sky and landed in his pathway. She, too, had wings – slender, beautiful, silver wings, that accentuated her elegant form. Her eyes, however, were colder than ice, watching Feliciano's trembling form void of any human emotion. She took a step towards Feliciano, which caused him to squeak pathetically and jump backward. Her emotion didn't change as she pressed on, forcing Feliciano back in equal measures, not looking nor caring where he was ending up. He watched the scary lady's face as he retreated, looking for any hint of what she was planning, anything –

- And then he bumped into something behind him.

Slowly, he turned and looked up at the person he had run into. A smiling, tall man looked down at him, his violet eyes scanning Feliciano's form unblinking. Feliciano trembled, then backed in the other direction, attempting to escape this man's all-knowing stare. He only succeeded in running into the scary lady, who watched him like a hawk would a field mouse. Feliciano was trapped. He was trapped between two angels with guns, and there was no way he could escape. He was, in fact, a field mouse, abandoned on an empty road with hawks on either side of him.

The male angel – the one with the violet eyes – smiled and tapped Feliciano's arm amusedly. When Feliciano yelped in shock and fear, the man tilted his head curiously. "What's wrong? Don't humans usually like angels?" Feliciano didn't respond, his eyes looking frantically between the man's eternally smiling face and the sword strapped above the gun at his waist. Catching his line of sight, the violet eyed man's grin broadened. "Ah, so that's what this is. You are just afraid of us hurting you, no? Well, don't be." He waved a hand dismissively, as if to reassure Feliciano he meant no harm. Feliciano didn't buy it. "We didn't even think a human was watching us, tonight. You're a naughty boy, spying on angels!"

Feliciano shook his head weakly. "I-I wasn't…I'll leave you alone sir, please, let me go, sono troppo giovane per morire, per favore, mio fratello e il mio amico sono probabilmente molto preoccupato per me, solo che non mi uccidere, qualsiasi cosa, ma che, per favore..."

Confused at the foreign tongue, the violet eyed man's brow furrowed. He turned, his massive silver wings gracefully gliding over the grass at their feet. He didn't even bother to look over his shoulder as he raised his hand in some sort of signal. The lady behind Feliciano immediately sprung into action, wrapping an arm around the Italian's waist and raising a knife to his throat. The man spread his great wings, and with a single flap, shot himself back into the sky to rejoin the battle. Feliciano shook horribly as every thought he had became about the knife, how it was pressed against his skin, how he could feel the warm drops of blood at the tip. This woman was probably going to kill him, he realized then. He was going to die, alone in the rain, unless he managed to escape somehow. He only had one real chance to escape. He felt as the woman's wings beat once, then twice, then again as she began lifting the two of them into the air. While she was distracted with getting the two of them airborne, Feliciano smashed his head backward and felt a satisfying cry of surprise as the back of his skull met her nose. She involuntarily released her hold on him and he fell to the ground, winded, but not out of commission yet. Yet being the key word there. The lady snarled as she spun around toward her charge, her pre-expressionless face replaced with a look of anger. Feliciano yelped and ran, back towards the woods, the trees, where he could hopefully lose her. Just as he was nearing the place he had come from, however, the woman caught up to him and grabbed his arm. Feliciano cried out as her long nails dug into the inside of his arm and drew blood, forcing him to fall to the ground. He rolled over just in time to avoid a knife strike, instead getting off with only a fine cut on his the side of his face. With surprising viciousness born from any instincts cradled in his being, he lashed out and kicked and punched and thrashed, trying to get this woman with silver wings and scary eyes off of him, away from him, anything. She kept her cool somehow, throughout the fight, and managed to pin him down on his back, his arms twisted behind him. He was trapped. She raised the knife, and time seemed to slow. Feliciano felt tears leak from his eyes, face in the dirt, and all he could think to do was mutter a rapid prayer under his breath as he closed his eyes from his fate. He was sorry he couldn't say goodbye to Lovino or Antonio, that he would never again see their faces or share a conversation or cook pasta with them. And he had never gotten to see Ludwig again. He never would get to see Ludwig again, ever, because this was it, he was going to die here at the hands of an angel and...

"FELICIANO!"

Feliciano couldn't make out the voice, but he opened his eyes upon hearing the sound of his name. Something plowed into the lady above him, forcing her off of the Italian's back, and he coughed as he pushed himself up with his arms. The woman shrieked as she clawed and kicked at a larger angel, who was dueling with her not five feet away from Feliciano's current position. He blinked, trying to clear away this blurriness in his eyes, and he slowly managed to stand up. His head felt light, and his legs were shaking like crazy, but he managed to stumble a few steps away from the fight. The larger angel looked to be a man through Feliciano's blurry vision, but looked to be beating her back, thankfully. Or, at least, he hoped that was a good thing. If this angel just wanted to kill him, too, the Italian knew there was nothing he could do about it.

The fight looked fierce, with wings tangling up in each other as they brawled. The man had the upper hand, however, and after a while, the woman shot him an acidic glare and flew away to nurse her wounds. The remaining angel turned now, back toward Feliciano – his heart sped up, and he instantly began to run away, because this angel was after him, and he didn't want to die yet, he was only twenty-one and he still had his whole life ahead of him...

But his legs gave out, and he crumpled to the ground in a heap. He crawled forward with what little strength he had left in his arms. The footsteps behind him were getting louder, and he couldn't escape, he was going to die, and –

"...Feliciano?"

That voice sounded familiar, but from where? Feliciano stopped moving and let himself lie face-down on the ground, his breath coming out in tired gasps. A tentative hand brushed against the Italian's arm. Slowly, gently, he was rolled over onto his back, where his eyes instantly met those he had dreamed of every day since they had gone.

"Ludwig?"

Grazie (Italian): Thank you

Sono troppo giovane per morire, per favore, mio fratello e il mio amico sono probabilmente molto preoccupato per me, solo che non mi uccidere, qualsiasi cosa, ma che, per favore (Italian): I'm too young to die, please, my brother and my friend are probably very worried about me, just do not kill me anything but that, please.

Okay, so here's the latest chapter. I really hope I'm doing okay, and that I'm not moving too fast! I mean, most of the story takes place amongst angels and stuff, so we're kinda just getting introduced to this AU finally. Speaking of which, surprise! it's an Angel AU!

I'm working on drawing the cover to this story now, hopefully I'll have it done soon. I'm also posting my Angel AU pictures on to my deviantArt account, on which I go under the same name. Feel free to check it out!

Also, free cookies to anyone who can tell me who the scary lady is!

Now, I feel I should just get something said here and now, just in case someone takes something the wrong way. This story is not written from a religious standpoint. I simply like people with wings. Personally, I am currently undecided/not religious, but I can respect and accept anyone's religions, be them Christian, Muslim, Jewish, anything. I just want it to be said that these angels are not directly correlated to a God or deity of any sort, and are not to be taken as such. An explanation on these angels will be given later in the story. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy the story from here on out.