I'm handwaving the concept of visiting hours...assume it's super early in the morning, December 28th. Also, hey guys! How are you?

Lovino stared. Alfred shifted in the bed uncomfortably.

"I'm gonna have to think about this," Lovino told him, slowly.

"Okay! Okay, yeah, I can understand that." Alfred picked at one of the bandages on his face, looking off to this side. He hadn't stopped fidgeting since he woke up in the hospital bed, after a thorough checking over by a doctor and a four hour nap. In total: a fractured nose, three jammed fingers and two torn ligaments not quite bad enough to require surgery, a twisted ankle, a mild concussion, and an overwhelming amount of angry-dark purple bruises mingled with cuts and scrapes all over his arms, torso, and face. It hurt just to look at him.

Lovino had been there the whole time, and no one had even tried to kick him out. he wondered what that meant about how the hospital employees saw him. Whatever, not important right now.

Feeling a bit flushed, he returned from his thoughts to see Alfred's face was also red. He frowned. "You feeling okay, asshole? I mean, considering?"

"Um, there was something else important that I wanted to tell you."

"Something else?" he asked disbelievingly, eyebrows shooting up. "What else could there possibly be after all that?"

"Well—"

A nurse came in.

"Maybe not right now," Alfred said quickly. His face was positively burning now, an interesting shade when mixed with all the bruises. Lovino and the nurse stared at him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Lovino demanded.

"Oh," the nurse said suddenly. "Sorry about that. I'll come back." And left again.

"What the hell? There's obviously something wrong with you, what kind of fucking medical professional just walks out—?"

"I'm fine, Lovi!" Alfred protested.

Lovino gave him a doubtful look. "And you wanted to tell me what?"

Alfred shook his head. "I'm gonna wait. Maybe 'til you're not mad at me anymore?" He attempted a hopeful smile.

Lovino snorted. "That might take a while."

"You haven't yelled at me yet, though. Is that a good sign?"

"I am preparing the mother of all diatribes in my head for later. Look forward to it."

Alfred grimaced a bit, but then grinned sheepishly. "Honestly I'm just glad you're even talking to me."

They stared at each other.

"'Honestly,' huh?"

A shrug. "You know everything now. Figure I might as well be honest about everything else."

"I know everything except that one thing you're going to tell me later," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but that's—that thing is a good thing?"

"Was that a question?"

"I hope it's a good thing." He looked unsure, almost hunched in on himself. Lovino pushed off the far wall he'd been leaning against with a sigh. Alfred's expression turned alarmed for a second until Lovino crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

"We're gonna be fine," Lovino told him softly.

Alfred reached out for his hand; Lovino met him halfway.

"I feel a lot better now," Alfred admitted.

Lovino ran his thumb carefully over his friends bruised, scraped knuckles where he could reach around the splints. He felt a little better knowing, but just knowing didn't change the reality. Alfred was still homeless. He was still going to refuse help. He was still going to try going after Ivan. He hadn't said as much outright, but sitting quietly in the tiny hospital room together, the truth of it hung heavy in the air over them.

Alfred managed to convince him to leave the hospital to sleep with only an intermediate amount of cajoling. He was pissed off enough that he wasn't entirely willing to spend the night, but he was worried enough that he didn't immediately agree to leave.

"I'll be here," Alfred told him. "For serious. Mattie's cop friend told me he'd only give me a few hours tops before he tipped my brother off about me being here, so I'm sure he's on his way to yell at me and make sure I stay in bed. He'll probably bring our p—uh, Arthur and Francis with him for, um. Hospital bills and stuff. You really don't wanna be here for that."

"Oh God no, I'm getting the hell out of here. But I'll be back. And also yell at you, if I've finished composing my rant by then."

"Sounds like it'll be a doozy," Alfred smiled wryly. "I'll look forward to it."

Despite the banter, the atmosphere was strained and even the clueless blond was feeling it. He looked like he was preparing for the firing squad by the time Lovino heard the distinctive English accent yelling down the hall and slipped out of the room.

Antonio picked him up, thankfully without comment. They drove home in the dark, Lovino's legs pulled up to his chest and his chin resting on his knees. He stared, unseeing, at passing streetlamps. Alfred was...

...was brave for trying to help his friend.

...was selfless for trying to keep his family out of it.

...was an idiot who didn't know what was good for him.

...was selfish for trying to keep people who cared about him out of it.

...was so, so precious to him.

He took a shuddering breath, determinedly ignoring Antonio's concerned look from the driver's seat, and tried to think of something else.

...He wondered what the other thing Alfred wanted to tell him was.

No. Something else.

In the police car, Alfred had almost sounded like he was confessing. 'I really like you,' he'd said. If he hadn't been concussed at the time...Maybe what Alfred had to tell him was something about that?

No! Something else!

He could feel his face heating up. The butterflies that typically appeared when he thought about Alfred mingled unpleasantly with the guilt-fear-anger nausea low in his stomach. How could he feel so much at the same time? And so often? For a person? For anything?

He tightened his grip around his legs and pressed his eyes against the rough fabric of his jeans.

"Fuck, I'm in love."

There was a lurch as Antonio jerked the car to the side of the road and parked. Lovino didn't bother looking up. They sat in silence for several minutes.

"I'm going to have to kill him, aren't I?" Antonio asked faintly, mostly to himself.

Lovino did look up at this. "Don't you dare." Not angry, not even raising his voice, but deadly serious. Antonio's mouth twisted unhappily, but he nodded and pulled back onto the road.

Lovino turned back to staring at his knees.

The day Alfred got out of the hospital they met at a Starbucks next door, which seemed to be frequented by a bunch of harried hospital workers getting to-go orders, but very few patrons who took the time to sit down to enjoy their coffee. This suited them just fine, since Alfred's face was still mottled blue and green and caused anyone who looked at him to do a double take. Alfred had been in the hospital for a total of two days, and only that long because of his family's nagging. He'd been ready to leave the next morning, insisting he healed fast, but had been overruled and glared into submission by the truly-terrifying-when-he-wanted-to-be Matthew. the day of his release, though, he'd managed to slip away with little fanfare and avoid his adoptive parents. Lovino had refrained from giving his opinion on this behavior when he saw Alfred limping towards him, but just barely. Instead he'd clamped down on the near-overwhelming rush of emotions. Outside of a Starbucks was no place for this confrontation. He'd just put his simmering rage on the backburner for now. And hope it didn't boil over.

"This kind of reminds me of the place on campus. Throwback, huh?" Alfred tried for lighthearted once they were inside and seated with drinks, but it fell flat in the face of Lovino's blank silence. "...I guess the campus stores are all closed down for winter break now, though."

Lovino hummed noncommittally, stirring his drink and glaring at the tabletop.

"Anything good happen while I was gone?" his companion tried again.

The Italian thought about the email he'd received from the advising office, telling him he'd missed the appointment he'd set up with Bella to declare his major. Which meant he couldn't register for next semester's classes. Because he'd been in such a state over his missing friend.

It didn't seem like something he should bring up just now.

"Not really. Took my final exams and spent Christmas with Antonio and Feliciano."

"That's cool. I was, uh, two towns over on Christmas. With, uh. Ivan."

"How was that?"

"...Painful."

"I see. And you, what? Kept trying to talk to him for two more days before Office Morgens picked you up for looking like roadkill?"

"Uh. Pretty much," Alfred muttered. "Uh."

Lovino felt his eyebrow twitch.

"So! You seem like you're still really pissed, but you haven't yelled at me yet." Alfred switched tacks. "And I was thinking I could tell you about that other thing, and maybe it would make you less mad? Possibly?" He smiled hopefully.

Okay, apparently inside the Starbucks was the place for this confrontation.

"No," he said simply. "I'm going first."

"Uh, okay, that's—"

"Not okay! You just told me you spent Christmas getting beaten up! Are you insane? Am I supposed to be happy you're trying to, what, save some guy who consistently uses you as a punching bag? That you're trying to be a hero for someone who doesn't fucking deserve it?"

"Hold on—"

"No! I'm not done! You have got to be the stupidest—"

At this Alfred stood up. "What the hell, Lovino, I don't have to listen to this!"

"Yes you do! You owe me this, Alfred Williams!" Lovino stood, too, reaching over the haul his friend closer to him so he could yell directly up into his face. Alfred looked angrier than he'd ever seen him, which was fine because Lovino was fucking pissed. "You gave me all that nonsense about how you like that I was the only one who didn't give you special treatment over the fact that you are living on the street but guess what! I am the only person giving you special treatment about that! Your friends, your family, are all having the normal reaction to knowing that someone they care about is homeless and you have the nerve to tell me I'm making you feel better about your shitty decision to avoid letting them help you? There is a line between supporting someone who wants to deal with something themselves and enabling them to keep making stupid decisions, and we both know I was on the wrong side of it!" His voice broke on the last word. Alfred gaped at him as Lovino reached up and cupped his face. "And I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry.

"I'm sorry I did that because it was a bad idea for both of us, and you've gotta see that. We fooled ourselves into thinking I was supporting you when there are people who love you lining up to actually support you! And I'm sorry I can't do it anymore because I know it was easier for you. I know you want to be a hero, to your family and to this childhood friend but you can't be both, no matter how hard you're trying. I know you tried hard, okay? I do. But trying to keep the people who care about you out of this was just hurting them. It was just hurting you."

Overcome, he shoved Alfred away again. "God, we've only known each other a few months, Alfred! And I know more than your brother about what's been happening to you! He said he only saw you two or three times a month, and why? Because you've been trying to help someone who doesn't want your fucking help? That's ridiculous and stupid and—and we can do better than this!"

Alfred looked away finally, expression twisting into something Lovino couldn't read.

"You can do better than this," he finished after a moment of terse silence. And he grabbed his coat and left his dearest friend standing in the middle of the Starbucks.

He fucking hated Starbucks.

Al's at my place, Matthew texted him. Was surprised he showed up tbh. Seems kinda like he's in shock. Should I be concerned?

probably. maybe. I yelled at him a little

Oh good, he could use a little yelling. Maybe I'll hold off tho, he's staring into space like a zombie. That bad?

Lovino snorted and toyed with his phone while he debated elaborating, but his phone buzzed again before he could decide.

Hold up he wants to tell me something.

Several hours later, while lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling, he got another text.

Holy shit IVAN? And then: This idiot, smh.

He replied with a simple ikr?

Unbelievable. Also not to be nosy but wtf did you say to him I've never seen him like this.

I spewed all my feelings at him like a piece of human garbage, he typed out, then deleted. He rolled over in bed and tried to sleep.

Lovino figured he would be subjected to another bout of non-communication from Alfred, but the next night—New Year's Eve—he ended up running into him. Of course. He'd just left a house party halfway across town from campus, which his brother had dragged him to in an attempt to cheer him up but then promptly abandoned him at when Ludwig arrived. Which Lovino understood, really, he wasn't exactly great company at the moment and it was New Year's Eve. He'd rather be with his boyfriend, too. If he had one. He'd settle for a friend, even. But who knew if he even had that now? The night was chilly but not particularly cold for the time of year, so he'd decided to wander around because he didn't want to know what the Bad Touch Trio was up to at Antonio's house. And while engaged in his gloomy meandering he'd managed to find the one person he both really wanted to talk to and really wanted to avoid.

Alfred.

Except he was a bit preoccupied at the moment, staring down a massive man wearing a scarf and surrounded by shorter but still threatening-looking guys wielding a variety of blunt objects. It looked like Lovino had interrupted the beginning of an extremely unfair fight.

"What the hell?" he muttered. He really needed to pay more attention to where he was going. Alfred's gaze snapped to him and he blanched significantly.

"What are you doing here?"

Lovino rolled up his sleeves. "Uh, saving your ass, apparently?"

This caused the tall scarf-wearer to huff a laugh. With a jolt Lovino realized this had to be Ivan. He was fair-haired and bulky, with glinting violet eyes and a perpetual creepy smile. He tried to picture this person as a child that Alfred and Matthew would have played with, but couldn't. He shook himself and stepped forward grimly. Ivan cocked his head and watched him advance, seeming vaguely interested, but before Lovino could do anything else Ivan had pulled back one massive hand and clocked Alfred square in the face.

"The fuck!" Lovino exclaimed; he'd seen the damage Ivan had inflicted before but actually witnessing the power Alfred's former friend put into the punch was terrifying.

Alfred reeled back and spat blood onto the ground. Seeing the red liquid gush from his nose and stain his mouth, Lovino saw red himself. Alfred was already injured and still healing. At this rate they'd kill him.

"Stay out of it, Lovino!" Alfred yelled, even as the other gang members took the blow as a sign to start advancing again. Ivan stood aside, expression cold even as he smiled, then appeared to dismiss the whole scene and started to walk away.

Fuck no. Lovino dashed after him, ignoring Alfred's calls to wait, don't!

Ivan was waiting for him on the next street over, standing just under the light of the streetlamp on the corner.

"Did you want something from me?" His teeth flashed white as he grinned.

"Leave Alfred alone."

Ivan tilted his head, considering. "That has nothing to do with me," he replied simply.

Lovino snarled and lunged.

Ivan was big. He had a lot of power in his arms; a hit would hurt a lot. But, Lovino had experience fighting people bigger than him.

Lovino threw multiple punches, all of which were blocked with a thick forearm. He was yelling, but not entirely sure if it was words or just howling. Ivan's face stayed in that creepy neutral smile. He didn't make any effort to hit back. The next time he tried to block with his arm, Lovino grabbed his sleeve and yanked down; Ivan stumbled and he managed to land a glancing blow to the Russian's left cheekbone.

Smile widening, Ivan looped an arm around his neck before he could escape. Lovino found himself pulled until his back was pressed to Ivan's chest. He struggled to get out of the hold, but Ivan was too strong.

Ivan lowered his head to Lovino's shoulder and whispered in his ear, "What exactly is Alfred to you, anyways?"

"He's my friend," Lovino gasped, attempting to kick backwards at Ivan's shins. The arm tightened, limiting his air further, as he was lifted off the ground.

"His friend? Hmm."

Flailing, Lovino grabbed onto the arm and followed it blindly until he found Ivan's face. He scratched and clawed, pulled at hair, and finally managed to jab his fingers into one of his opponent's eyes. Ivan dropped him and he took the opportunity, being close, to throw his elbow back into the taller man's stomach. He twisted as Ivan doubled over and landed a solid blow to Ivan's right eye.

Then he scrambled back, heaving.

Ivan had stumbled backwards into the light. As he straightened up, his face shone with sweat and—tears? He was blinking rapidly; both eyes were already turning purple. Lovino stared for a moment, but then he heard Alfred scream. He turned and dashed back to the other street without even thinking about it.

Alfred was on the ground. His wrist was at a weird angle at the end of his splayed arm, obviously broken. Based on the circle of thugs around him, it looked like someone had stomped on it.

Lovino rushed them with a scream. He headbutted the tallest one, closest to Alfred, and managed to push him into another attacker behind him. Both fell to the ground. He heard another one coming at him from behind, so he pivoted and ducked, throwing his shoulder into the guy's ribcage, causing him to lose his balance and fall, as well.

There was only one left, but Ivan appeared before he could advance. "Time to go," he said. He didn't sound so cheerful anymore. He yanked up his other three goons and shoved them towards a side street.

"Wait—" Alfred gasped, obviously in pain but apparently determined to be an idiot if the way he was struggling to sit up was any indication.

"No. I told you already, Fredka. Leave."

"No!"

"Alfred stop it!" Lovino hissed at him as he rushed over and knelt at his side. He got a glare for his trouble. "There's nothing we can do about this...right now."

Alfred made an aggravated noise but went silent, watching as Ivan left.

"...Well now what?" Alfred demanded sourly.

Lovino reminded himself it was probably rude to hit someone who was already pretty beat up.

WELL WELL WELL

Hello everyone, you've just finished the second to last chapter of TALA! Probably! The "plan" is the finish this story in one more chapter, but if you're one of the people who've been reading this fic for, oh god what's it been, almost five years? You already know I am a filthy no-good liar when it comes to updates. I love you all though, and hopefully you still think fondly of me.

If you were wondering, YES Alfred was trying to confess when Lovino went off on him. Poor dude. He has awful timing. Also I've never written a fight scene before, hopefully it was okay if not super innovative.

As always, feel free to hit me up about updates, Romerica, or anything else either here or at my tumblr, which is piratecat. Especially if you want to discuss Hamilton, which I have a lot of feelings about.

I'm not even gonna pretend to have a time estimate for the last chapter. But it's gonna happen!

-AoNoShi