A/N: Wellllll. This took four months, and the majority of it was written today when I was struck with divine inspiration. This story will be three years old soon...but there's only 2-3 chapters left, so I guess on the bright side it won't hit four years before I finish it? You guys are the best, though.

In this chapter, we have:

-cop!Netherlands, with a quickly Googled human name

-some basic French pleasantries (how are you? I'm fine and you?)

-Spain being a cutie

-one Italian pickup line you may recognize from chapter 5

-a possibly true story about some underwear but I won't say whose

-no beta, as usual, so tell me if you spot some glaring error

TALA 10

He didn't know whether to tell anyone that Alfred had vanished. Maybe he'd just been lying when he'd promised not to disappear. Maybe he'd known he wouldn't stick around, and had just said that to make him worry, to get back at Lovino for spilling his secret.

No. This was Alfred.

He hunched over his astronomy notes, doodling stars and black holes in the margins. The quiet library was supposed to be helping him concentrate on studying for finals. But now Alfred and the library were inextricably linked in his mind.

Two days, he mused. If this were a normal case that would be long enough to file a missing person report. But what would he tell the police? Oh yeah, my homeless friend promised I'd see him tomorrow. His parents? Well—No, I don't know where he usually goes. No, he wouldn't just run off. I think. Yeah, I am the guy that beat up those boys last year, it's great that you remember that.

The police were a no-go unless it looked really desperate, he decided. His alternatives included telling Bonnefoy and Kirkland, though he didn't know what they could do. They'd probably want to go to the police. He could always ask Antonio for advice, but then there was a high probability he'd rat him out to Bonnefoy. Lorinataitis and Honda were out of the question. Feliciano...He got the feeling his brother would be sympathetic but insist there was nothing they could do.

What about Williams? he wondered, tapping his pencil. It wasn't like his relationship with the guy could get any worse. And Alfred wasn't here to get mad at him about it. Would Williams go to his parents, though? The last they'd spoken, he'd been pretty upset to learn his adoptive parents knew about Alfred while he didn't. Maybe the family was still on the outs with each other. He could use that to his advantage. And Alfred had said his brother was made of tougher stuff than he looked. It would be nice to have some solid backup, provided Williams was willing to talk to him.

Can't hurt to try. He stuffed his notes in his bag and zipped it up. Just for a moment he allowed himself to let his fall back. He took a few deep breaths and stared up at the ceiling.

He could do this. He could.

As seemed to be the pattern with him, he didn't find Williams when he was actually looking. Instead, when he showed up at the language department the next day for his usual two hours of penitence (Wednesday, so Spanish today), he spotted Bonnefoy and Williams conversing quietly but intensely in the hall.

He stopped, considering. On the one hand, Williams was right there. On the other, so was Bonnefoy. In any case, he had to go past them to get to Antonio's office. He blew out a sigh and prepared to shove past. Predictably, Bonnefoy grabbed him.

"Monsieur Vargas! Comment allez-vous?"

Lovino tried to produce a polite smile, but it came out as a grimace. "Bien, et vous?"

Bonnefoy dropped his customary cheerful expression; he looked strange without it. "And how is Alfred?" he asked, not answering the pleasantry.

"He's also just fine, thank you. I need to get to Antonio's office, so if you don't mind?"
The professor's eyebrows raised. "Since when have you called him by his first name?"

"Since I was a kid," he said, rolling his eyes. "I just try not to do it in front of you people. Now let me through, asshole."

"You people?" Bonnefoy mouthed to Williams, amusement returning to his face. His son didn't seem to share in his good humor, however.

"Let him by, Papa."

They shared a look, and Bonnefoy slowly let go of him. When they just continued staring at each other, silent, Lovino grumbled, "Weirdoes," and continued down the hall. Immediately whispered conversation started up behind him. When he turned the corner though, he felt a sharp tug on his sleeve and looked back to see Williams had caught up with him.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

"Are you done talking to your dad?"

As if in response, he heard the door to Bonnefoy's office slam.

"We're done," Williams told him with a tight smile. "I actually just wanted to thank you," he continued. The smile turned genuine. "Um, Alfred came to see me on Saturday night. Well, more like Sunday morning. I thought he was a burglar at first and almost attacked him with a hockey stick."

Lovino snorted.

"Yeah. He said he'd been talking to you, and that you'd convinced him he needed to come clean to me. And he apologized for keeping it a secret."

"He did?" Lovino asked, startled. That had been the night they went stargazing. And then...Alfred had showed up the next morning for Mass, not mad at him anymore.

"Yeah, and he never apologized for anything when we were kids," Williams said, misinterpreting his surprise. "My parents, on the other hand, are convinced they did what was best for my peace of mind."

Lovino shook his head. "Assholes."

"No kidding," Williams agreed. "And I know we started off on the wrong foot, and that was my fault—"

"Not really," Lovino protested. "I was the one being an asshole then. I assumed you knew and just didn't care."

Williams eyed him with an odd expression. "If I'd known, I would have been looking after him. But it seems like you were doing that for me, so thank you."

Lovino's breath caught. "Yeah, well, don't thank me yet, because I haven't been doing such a great job of it," he replied, voice suddenly thick.

Williams put a hand on his shoulder. "What is it?"

"I haven't seen him since Sunday night. I know that doesn't sound like a long time but—"

He only realized his voice was rising when Williams squeezed his shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay, just keep calm." His words were soothing, but his expression was serious. "Al made it seem like you see each other practically every day. He's never done something like this before though?"

Lovino tried to take calming breaths, but his voice still wavered when he answered, "Only the once; he was gone for two weeks, and he showed up at my dorm on Saturday bruised and bleeding. I think he got into a bad fight that time, and then on Sunday he got into another fight while I was there. That was with some students, but he recognized this one guy—it sounded like he was a drug dealer or something. I didn't get a good look at him. I don't know if it's related to the other time he was missing or not."

Williams took this in, chewing at his bottom lip. "Dammit Al, what've you gotten yourself into this time?" he said to himself quietly.

"It's just—" Lovino hesitated, because this seemed too important to share but also too important to keep to himself. "He promised me he wouldn't disappear again."

Williams frowned. "Alfred's kind of like our parents in some ways. When we were kids, he—he was known to lie if he thought it was for the 'greater good,' or whatever. That could mean anything from not getting caught to protecting someone's feelings. But he never used the word promise lightly."

Lovino squeezed his burning eyes shut. "I don't know what to do," he whispered.

"You haven't gone to the police?"

"I don't think that's an option for me," Lovino admitted. "Because of that fight."

"Uh, yeah, I'd heard some rumors about that."

Lovino grimaced.

"Which I may have passed on to Alfred."

Cue unimpressed look.

"I was still pretty angry at the time," Williams told him. "I'd been asking around about you and some guys told me—"

Lovino growled. He could guess who these "guys" were.

"—they told me some stuff about it, which Alfred very vehemently told me couldn't possibly be true, and that they probably deserved to have their asses kicked."

This startled a brief laugh out of him. "He would say that," he muttered, but quickly sobered. "Well, ignoring the gory details, there was a fight, and I'm not really on the local police's list of trustworthy people. Or your parents', for that matter."

Williams held up a finger as something occurred to him. "Actually, I have a friend on the force. I'm going to talk to him." He reached around in his pocket and grabbed a pen, then motioned for Lovino's hand.

He gave it to him rather bemusedly and watched him write down a phone number on the back. "How do you know a police officer, anyway?"

"Uh, just from around. Anyway, call me tonight and I'll tell you how it goes, okay?"

He nodded. "I'll do that."

"I'd call you instead," Williams explained sheepishly, "but Papa has this scary sense for whenever I get a new phone number."

Lovino huffed. "Of course he does." He paused. "So, we're not telling him? Or Kirkland?"

"Definitely not."

They nodded at each other.

At the far end of the hall, Antonio called out, "Romaaaaano? Where are you?"

"I'm late," Lovino rolled his eyes.

Matthew gave him a small smile. "I'll talk to you later," he said, and jogged away.

Lovino stared into space, thinking, until Antonio sidled up next to him.

"...is that a phone number on your hand?" he asked gleefully.

"Don't start."

"Fine, fine. So! How're exams going?"

He groaned. "Don't ask about that either."

Antonio linked an arm through his and started pulling him towards his office. "Okay, then let's talk about Christmas!"

Ah, shit.

"Well," he said, trying to sound casual, "I applied to stay in the dorm over the break."

Antonio froze. "What?" He sounded heartbroken already. Lovino braced himself for the possibility of tears. "Nooooo!" his supposedly adult companion wailed. "I want you and Feli to come stay with meeeee!"

"Drawing your vowels out doesn't really help make a case. And besides, Feli is still coming," he tried to protest.

"But it's not the same without both of you! It's Christmas!" Lovino ducked his head, mostly mortified by this display but also slightly pleased. "Alfred can come visit us if that's what you're worried about."

Lovino sputtered. "That's not the problem!"

That was totally the problem.

"I will get down on my knees and beg if I have to," the professor declared. "I'll—I'll follow you around everywhere and cry, and it will be very embarrassing."

Lovino tried to suppress a smile. "You can't be serious."

"Pleeeeeeease? Please please please please—"

"All right!" Lovino shouted. "Fine. Dio. I'll come home for break."

Antonio twirled in place and pulled him into a hug. He was crying, a little. "Thank you, Lovi!"

Lovino patted his back a bit. "Yeah, yeah. Let me sit around in your office for these two hours and it's a deal."

He called Matthew that night, while Feliciano was out on a date and he was debating how much he should pack for the upcoming break. All his police contact had told him was that a missing homeless kid wouldn't have much priority with the force, but he'd be on the lookout himself and keep them informed.

"Doesn't sound very helpful," Lovino grumbled, holding his cell in one hand and attempting to fold a shirt with the other.

"He's an understated sort of guy, but he's very capable," Matthew assured him.

"Hmmm."

"Hey Lovino...I was wondering, would you maybe want to hear some stories about Al as a kid?"

Lovino fumbled the shirt. "You wouldn't mind? Won't he mind?"

"Serves him right at this point," Matthew dismissed. "This is why you're not supposed to leave your date alone with family. They break out the embarrassing stories and baby pictures."

He thought briefly about denying the date thing, but decided it was too much effort. "In that case, I'd love to hear some."

Two days after Christmas, Friday night.

Lovino was sprawled over the couch at Antonio's place, Feliciano was near the fireplace, and for some reason Antonio was at the window, cackling to himself. It was really messing with his ability to doze off, so he made an annoyed noise.

"What're you doing over there, bastard? You're acting even more deranged than usual."

"The police are at Roderich's house!" Antonio informed them. "Maybe they're going to arrest him!"

Feliciano scurried over. "What?" He gasped. "Oh, there's a police car!"

"What're they doing?" Lovino asked, not moving from his position.

"Just sitting there," his brother told him. "The lights aren't even flashing."

"Weird." His cell phone went off. He pulled it off and frowned when he saw it was a local number, but not one he recognized.

"Yeah?" he answered it.

"...Lovino Vargas?" a gravelly voice came through.

"Who wants to know?"

He heard a sigh. "I'll take that as a yes. This is Officer Lars Morgens. Matt gave me your number, said if I couldn't reach him I should contact you. This is gonna sound weird, but I'm sitting outside the address listed in your police file. You're not in trouble or anything, but it's about this kid—"

"Kid?" he asked, sitting up as his heart leaped.

"Yeah," was the dry reply. "The one sitting in my back seat."

Lovino bolted off the couch and out the door. Roderich emerged from the house at the same time Morgens got out of the car.

"Vargas?" he asked.

Lovino nodded vigorously, and Morgens jerked his head towards the back.

"Is this officer here for you?" Roderich asked incredulously. "What on earth have you done now?"

"I'll deal with him," Morgens muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Lovino gave his uncle a cursory glare, yanked open the car door, and slid into the backseat.

Alfred blinked at him when he slammed the door shut. "Those don't open from the inside, you know. And you're not even wearing any shoes," he said disapprovingly. "It's 22 degrees outside, you should be wearing shoes."

"You're bleeding. Again," Lovino said disbelievingly.

"Officer Morgens thinks I have a mild concussion," Alfred said matter-of-factly, rubbing at the flaky blood on his forehead. "'M not supposed to go to sleep."

"Why aren't you at a hospital then?" he demanded, batting Alfred's hands away and keeping his own hovering over his bruised face, afraid to touch.

"Didn't wanna go. Wanted to come see you." Alfred grinned. "Hi Lovi."

"Hi idiot," he said flatly.

Alfred sighed. "I deserve that."

"Yeah, yeah you do." Finally he brought his hands to rest gently on either side of the idiot's face. "Well don't you look a mess," he murmured. His face was a mass of bruises and dried blood. It looked like his nose was broken. And that was just what he could see above the collar. He swallowed heavily. "Nice jacket, though."

"Thanks, 's very warm. Got it from my best friend." Alfred shifted closer across the seat, moving gingerly. Lovino bit his lip. When their sides were pressed together, Lovino let go of his battered face, and Alfred's head drooped until it was resting on top of his. He made a strange "cckk" noise, explaining, "My neck hurts," when Lovino twitched in response.

"Should go to a hospital," Lovino muttered.

Alfred made a vague disagreeing sound.

"...And not go to sleep," he said louder when Alfred was quiet for a minute.

He got a throaty groan as an answer.

Lovino waited for a bit. "Hey, I need to ask you something."

"Mmm?"

"Did you really leave your underwear in the bathroom of a church when you were living with the Joneses?"

Alfred jerked up. "Oh God you've been talking to Mattie. Oh my God. I told him that in strictest confidence!"

Lovino started snickering.

"I'm going to kill him."

"Sounds like you were a bit of an excitable kid."

Still grumbling, Alfred leaned against him again. He drew in a sharp breath through his nose, reminding Lovino he was still in pain and cutting his laughter short.

"Hey," Alfred said. "I thought about you a lot while I was gone." He pressed his nose into the side of Lovino's head near his ear, almost nuzzling. Moment of lucidity apparently over.

Lovino blinked rapidly, staring straight ahead. "Well. You were gone for almost three weeks. I would hope you'd miss your best friend at least a little."

"A lot," Alfred confirmed. "Tried really hard to get back to you, I promise."

"Not much of a promise."

"Sorry," Alfred said softly. "Sorry, sorry."

"You owe me an explanation, I think."

Alfred hesitated. "Okay," he agreed. "Now?"

Lovino scoffed. "How about when you don't have a concussion?"

"'Kay. Later." He wriggled a bit. "Really did think about you."

"Oh?" he asked, finding Alfred's hand and linking their fingers.

"Posso dirti che hai degli occhi stupendi?"

Lovino turned red, and swore he could feel Alfred smiling.

"I really like you, Lovi," the beat-up teen murmured. "Really really like you."

"Once again, I think this is a conversation better suited for people who don't have concussions."

"Right," he agreed. "Too important. Deal with head injuries first." He sighed heavily and sagged against him. "I'm really tired, though," he said, as though confiding a secret.

Me, too Lovino wanted to tell him, but didn't. Instead he tried to be as solid as possible, a human pillar of support. Even as he wanted to crumble himself. He could hear Roderich squabbling with Antonio outside. There was a rather large bloodstain on the sleeve of the jacket he'd bought for Alfred.

Alfred, who said he really liked him.

He didn't think he could deal with something like this again.

A/N: My notes say that I was originally planning on ending this chapter with something happy. Oh well. In case anyone is confused by the timeline (maybe just me? consequences of leaving this for so long): assuming Thanksgiving was the second to last week of November, Alfred went missing the first time a week later. He stayed gone for two weeks, came back for a weekend and disappeared right before finals week. Then there are two weeks of winter break before he shows back up again as seen here. So...basically he's been around for all of two days over a five week period.

Also the reason Matthew knows Lars is totally because he's his dealer.

Next time! We finally get to Alfred's tragic backstory and whatnot.

Thanks for reading! ~AoNoShi

((You're in a car with a beautiful boy))