I don't own Hetalia. If I did...hahahaha...anyway.

"Ludwig!"

He grunted, and kept sanding.

"Luuuuuudwiiiiiiiiiig!"

He twitched, highly annoyed.

"Please don't be mad, Ludwig! I thought you liked pasta!"

Ludwig finally snapped, and slammed his sanding block on the table. "That does not give you a good reason to order 7 boxes and then drop it off at my house!"

He had been just a bit too harsh for the sensitive Italian. Feliciano's eyes began to fill up with tears, and his chin began to wobble.

Ludwig recoiled, before sighing and rubbing the back of his head. "No, ah…I'm sorry. I'm not mad. Just a little frustrated. Warn me next time, please. Gilbert will never let me live this down."

For some reason, this explanation seemed to appease Feliciano—even if Ludwig did something that truly angered or saddened his best friend, he always seemed to forgive him. The Italian smiled tearfully. "Oh, thank you Ludwig! I swear I will never, ever bring pasta into your house again!"

"I never said that." Ludwig said quickly. Because there had been this one time where Feliciano had brought pasta in, and had made something delicious out of wurst, beans and pasta. He didn't quite remember what it was called, but it had been wonderful. "A little pasta at a time is fine."

Feliciano's smile widened, and he nodded happily. "Of course, Luddy!"

He grunted. "Don't call me that."

"Okay!" Feliciano's smile never wavered.

Ludwig smiled fondly at him; as annoying as his best friend could be, he always knew how to make him grin. With another soft sigh he set his sanding block back in his toolbox, snapped the lid shut, and put it on top of the shelf. Then, he carefully moved the half-finished desk into a corner and threw a tarp over it. "C'mon," He said to Feliciano. "Let's go upstairs."

"Okay!" Feliciano responded cheerfully, and followed him up the basement steps as Ludwig climbed to the first floor.

Ludwig opened the door, and turned to let Feliciano through first—

Only to be tackled by something large and pale.

"Your awesome older brother is back from college!" Gilbert crowed, not caring that he'd just sent them both on a one-way trip to the bottom of the stairs.

"G-Gilbert—!" Ludwig teetered sickeningly, trying to regain his balance before they fell down and broke their necks on the basement floor.

The forgotten Feliciano reacted a second later; he reached out and placed two steadying hands on Ludwig's back. Surprising enough that he actually went to help the falling pair, but even more shocking was the fact that he could stop them, considering his stick-thin body; no one had ever expected him to have any strength in those skinny arms of his.

Neither the brothers noticed this, however; they were both too focused on each other.

"What are you doing?" Ludwig hissed, shoving his brother off of him. "You could've gotten us both killed!" He seemed to realize that Feliciano was behind him. "You could've gotten Feliciano killed, too!" He turned around to address the Italian. "Are you okay?"

Feliciano smiled shakily. "S-Si, Ludwig. I'm fine. Are you—?"

He broke off when his eyes caught Gilbert's. They both stared at each other, red boring into caramel brown. Gilbert's eyes narrowed angrily, while Feliciano's eyes widened fearfully. However, neither of them seemed to be able to move.

Ludwig looked back and forth, and suddenly seemed to realize that something was going on. "Do you two…know each other?"

Ludwig's voice broke the spell. There was a whirl of action—a sharp cry, "Angel!"—a swirl of feathers, the sound of ripping clothes—the glint of something metal—Gilbert leaping forward, knife—Feliciano crouched down low, wings—

And then he was flying.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!"

At least it had been a manly scream.

Feliciano tightened his arms around Ludwig's midsection. "Please calm down! I can't fly like this!"

Ludwig looked towards the ground, seemed to realize they were flying very, very high, and stopped struggling. "What the hell—what's—I don't understand! Feliciano! Put me down right now!"

"Okay, okay!" Feliciano angled towards the forest, heading for a rocky outcropping at the top of a hill.

As soon as they touched down, Ludwig scrambled away, staring wide-eyed at his best friend.

The Italian was standing up straight and tall, though he looked mildly frightened as Ludwig's gaze swept over him. Most everything was the same; he was still wearing his casual/stylish clothes, still had the same auburn colored hair with liquid caramel-brown eyes, same olive-toned skin…only now he had wings. They were a pure white color, half-folded almost shyly behind him, glowing soft silver. When they'd been extended, Ludwig recalled, they'd been very long—he didn't know how long, but…

Dear God. His best friend had wings.

Okay, think rationally about this. His friend—his best friend…

There was no rational about this. There was no simple explanation. His best friend had wings.

"E-Explain." Ludwig demanded as steadily as he could. "N-Now. Explain now. Please."

Feliciano looked mildly relieved that Ludwig hadn't freaked out on him much—yet. But he folded his wings all the way shut and tucked them against his back. They were almost invisible now, except for the fact that the back of Feliciano's shirt was ripped, so he could still see the silvery glow.

"It's a…" Feliciano sighed. "Long story."

"We are here. We have time." He needed answers.

"Are you…sure you're okay?"

"Dammit, Feliciano!" Ludwig shouted. "You have—wings! Whatever you say now can't be much weirder than this!"

Feliciano cringed at Ludwig's harsh tone, but continued on bravely. "Um…I'm a half-angel."

It had been a weird day. Ludwig didn't doubt it for a second. "Half-angel?"

"Well, um…my mother, she was a human. But my father well…" Feliciano frowned delicately. "He was…a Fallen."

Ludwig stared in shock, feeling his mouth opening and closing like a beached fish. Even though he'd begun accepting the whole 'wings' thing, it was still a big thing to take in. "The Fallen…they're real?"

"Yes." Feliciano nodded, grimacing, which was so out of place on his normally blissful face. "My mother had fallen in love with a Fallen…but what she didn't know was that by being with one, she cursed herself." He sighed bitterly, wrapping his arms around himself. "She died. She…" His breath hitched in his throat, and a single tear streaked down his face.

Ludwig blinked at him, mouth partially open in surprise. His best friend—a half angel? He didn't believe in fairytales, never had—he thought fairytales were just an escape for other people, and that he didn't need an escape because he had too much work to do. But this was starting to sound more and more like some sort of fantasy story. Before he could think on the subject more, however, another choked sob drew him out of his thoughts.

Feliciano looked so alone, he realized with a start. As though the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders, and there was no one to hold his hand as it happened. And, Ludwig realized, he was alone. There was no one else to go through what he was going through, no one else to know his hidden pain—Feliciano was more than a oblivious smile and vacant caramel eyes. Ludwig had been a fool not to notice it.

Even though his best friend was a half-angel, he was still his friend. His best friend. And right now it looked like his best friend seriously needed a hug.

Ludwig still felt very awkward doing it. Feliciano had always initiated hugs, and often called him as stiff as a board. Still, he would have to be better than nothing.

Feliciano's eyes shot open when he felt two strong, wiry arms wrap tentatively around him, encasing him in an awkward but obviously well-meaning hug. And suddenly, Feliciano didn't feel so lonely anymore—he still felt as though it were himself against the world, but…now he had someone else, who didn't care who or what he was.

He never should've doubted his best friend.

"He took my brother, dammit!" Gilbert snarled into his communicator, doing his best to follow the trail that the Fallen had left behind—a trail of silver sparkles that only he could see. "He could be torturing him—I have to find him! This just got way to personal! So not awesome!" He yelped when he accidently stubbed his toe on a rock.

"Gilbert, you need to calm down." Antonio's soothing Spanish voice crackled over the speakers. "If you don't have a clear head, he'll take advantage of you."

"Besides," Francis said, "You told me they've been best friends for years. It is a possibility that the Fallen would feel some sort of…connection? I suppose, to your brother."

"But the Fallen will hurt him! He'll kill him! Those bastards don't feel any sympathy, or emotions!" Gilbert dodged a passing pedestrian, who gave him an odd look.

"I don't know…" Antonio said doubtfully. "Remember what happened with Alfred and that one angel he called—I think it was…the Britannica Angel? Or was it Arthur…?"

"He wasn't a Fallen." There was no possible way something like that could happen. "He was just your average old Angel."

He could practically feel the frown over the speaker, but it wasn't the usually tactful Antonio who responded. "You know that's not the truth, Gilbert." Francis said in his usual blunt manner. "Do try to think positively."

"One of them killed her." He whispered, closing his eyes, feeling the emotional wound throb. "If anyone deserved to live, it was her. What sort of monster would kill her?"

There was a long, awkward pause over the speaker. Finally, Spain spoke. "Gilbert…you're letting your emotions cloud your actions. You're reckless and…" He stopped, trying to find the right words. "Please, let one of us handle this. You shouldn't be going in alone!"

Gilbert stopped to consider this, the trail of silver angelic energy floating tantalizingly in front of him. He could let Antonio and Francis take care of the situation; there was no doubt he'd make mistakes right now, what with him being so angry. And, after all, the Spaniard and the Frenchie had been Fallen Hunters longer than he had; they had the sort of professional coldness that only came with years of loss and pain and things they couldn't handle without some sort of grasp on their emotions. And yet…

This was way too close to home. He had lost one of the people he'd ever truly loved to one of these bastards. And though his brother was a prick, and way too stiff for his own good, they were still family and he loved his little brother with everything he had.

"I'm sorry." He said simply, and dropped the communicator. He calmly crushed it under one foot, effectively silencing Francis's and Antonio's cries. "But I need to do this."

"So how does my brother figure into all of this?" Ludwig and Feliciano were leaning comfortably against the rocks, Feliciano's wings fully extended. It had obviously been uncomfortable for the half-angel to keep his wings folded up—Ludwig had heard the popping noises the wings had made when Feliciano stretched them.

"Your brother is a Fallen hunter." Feliciano tightened his arms around his legs, shivering. "Most of the Fallen are—well, they're called the Fallen for a reason." He sighed, rubbing his head warily. "So you humans needed some way to combat them. The North American branch is the biggest—I don't know why. But they hunt those monsters."

Ludwig was extremely curious now. "But you're half-human. That should count for something, right?"

"Well…yes. I'm not a soulless monster like the Fallen are. But…my father…he did some bad things. Some very bad things." Feliciano looked extremely uncomfortable. "Actually, I think he might've done something to offend your brother personally."

This put Ludwig on guard. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach… "Like…like what?"

Feliciano suddenly looked very frightened. "Please, Ludwig, try to remember. I'm not my father, he was a monster, and I hate him with every bone in my body."

Ludwig said nothing, just fixed Feliciano with a steady look.

"Did you know…Elizaveta Héderváry?"

Immediately the images of a pretty girl with brown hair appeared in his mind; she always wore a pink flower in her hair, and when they were younger she would beat him and Gilbert up, even going so far to think herself a boy. But she became very feminine when she grew up. She wore a pretty green dress and a white apron over the top, and often carried around a frying pan—her choice of weapon when beating the two brothers up. And as they grew, Gilbert started blushing more and more around her, and eventually he had walked right up to her and kissed her. She had been so surprised she hadn't even had time to raise her frying pan and hit him with it. Gilbert kept asking her, and asking her, and begging, and doing anything—and finally, one day she agreed to go out with him. Which was the best decision she'd ever made, because Gilbert had been so happy, and she had been so happy, and for years they both had been happy…

And the night before Gilbert proposed, she died.

Gilbert had screamed and screamed and thrown things and then had screamed some more, before finally just sitting on his bed and staring blankly into nothing. And then, in the middle of the funeral he had walked out.

When he came back, Gilbert was done mourning. He had done whatever he needed to do. And slowly, slowly things had gone back to normal.

Except they hadn't.

Little things. Gilbert disappearing, and not coming back until late, covered with bruises and bone-tired. People Ludwig had never met before, coming to their house, asking for his brother. Strange weapons under Gilbert's bed—all not normal, and all linked together. Normally Ludwig didn't pry into his brother's life—they had always been close, but never closer than two best friends would be. But when he had confronted the albino, Gilbert had said,

"I'm doing it for her. I'm not doing something stupid, or dangerous! Stop worrying about me. This time I'll protect you!"

Ludwig still wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, and he didn't really care to find out.

Suddenly he realized that Feliciano was still sitting there, anxiously awaiting an answer. "…Yes." He said finally.

"My father…he…" The Italian shuddered.

The pieces connected.

Ludwig's eyes widened.

"I was just talking to her. She was so pretty and nice, and…" Feliciano wouldn't look at him, just kept sobbing into his knees. "I didn't know my father found me. I didn't know he was following me around. So he…he…"

"Why'd he kill her?" Ludwig interrupted coldly.

"I don't—"

"To keep himself from being discovered? To stop her from escaping? WHY?" His last question came out as a harsh scream, guttural and animalistic.

"To…" Feliciano flinched, shivering and shuddering and sobbing. "To show that he owned me. To show that I could only talk to the people he wanted me to talk to." Even though it seemed impossible, he curled into a tighter ball. "To show that I was completely weak, and that I couldn't do anything while he killed people. Innocents. People who didn't deserve to die."

Ludwig stared in shock at his best friend; his poor, traumatized best friend, who had gone through so much, but still somehow managed to look blissful. Who obviously felt so much guilt about what had happened, but still somehow managed to put up a mask for him and everyone else to see. And suddenly Ludwig realized that this was Feliciano's worst nightmare; being discovered as that monster's son, being discovered as his…his…slave, practically, and seen in the worst light possible.

This teen was responsible for his brother's girlfriend's death.

And Ludwig could not possibly hate him more than Feliciano hated himself.

"Feliciano…" Ludwig reached out for the sobbing wreck that was his best friend, who flinched away at his gentle touch. "It's okay…I—"

"West, step away from that Fallen."

Ludwig jumped in shock, and looked up to see his brother's face, twisted with anger and rage and something more primal than that, still panting with exertion from his climb up the hill. In his brother's hand, was the strange weapon he'd seen on his brother's bed.

If he stepped away, Feliciano would die. And Gilbert would do it, without a hint of remorse.

"I can't do that, Gilbert." He said firmly, slowly rising to his feet. Ludwig steadied himself on his legs, which had been in the same position for the last twenty minutes, before walking to stand in front of his best friend.

This only seemed to infuriate Gilbert more. "You don't understand what this thing is, Ludwig. Step away from him right now. Whatever he's told you, it's a lie. Just get away, before you get killed too."

"No I—" Ludwig quickly opened his mouth to defend his best friend, but was cut off by a soft voice.

"Please, Ludwig. Just do as he says."

He whipped around to stare at Feliciano. "Feli…?"

Ludwig was met with a soft, understanding smile. "It's okay, Luddy. I knew I could only run for so long…if I stayed here much longer, he would've found me. I don't want to keep running like a hunted animal. I won't do it." Feliciano rose to his feet, wiping the snot and tears from his face, angelic wings half-extended gracefully behind him. He gently pushed Ludwig aside, still smiling. "It's going to be okay."

Gilbert glared at Feliciano, reaching out a hand for his brother. "Come here, West. I don't want you to get hit with anything."

Under the pressure of both his older brother, whom he'd listened to his entire life, and his best friend, Ludwig caved. He slowly walked over to Gilbert.

The half-angel stared calmly back, despite the fact that his eyes were still red from his earlier meltdown. He didn't react, even when Ludwig shook off his brother's protective arm, even when the finger on the trigger tightened cautiously. Finally, he spread his wings out fully, and extended his arms at outwards, in preparation to take the blast that was sure to be his end.

Ludwig couldn't do it.

"Please, Gilbert. Don't do this. He's not one of the Fallen." He begged his brother, who seemed to be beyond reasoning with.

"He's lying." Gilbert said instantly, without any doubt. "He's brain washed you. Don't worry; you'll be fine when we get back."

"I'm not—!"

"Ludwig, please." Feliciano broke in, staring steadily at Ludwig. "It's—I'm—fine. I'll be free."

Free.

The word suddenly seemed so bittersweet.

Gilbert pulled the trigger.

An explosion.

Gilbert's rise to consciousness was slow and sluggish.

Voices floated in and out of his ears, but he couldn't quite make out the words. He did his best to focus, trying to figure out what was going on. Finally, like crackling words on a broken radio, something filtered through.

"Did I tell you that you could talk to this mortal? Did I, son?"

That voice was too…familiar…

"Don't hurt him, please, father! I'll do anything you want. Just don't touch him!"

"F-Feliciano…"

Ludwig!

Gilbert jumped to his feet, shaking off his tiredness without a second thought. He didn't know what was going on, but whatever it was, Ludwig sounded like he was in trouble! And there was no way that he could leave his little brother to the mercy of the Fallen—that would be so not awesome!

But as he looked on the scene, he was very confused.

There was that one Fallen—the little one named…what was it? Felichinana? Felicianogo? No, Feliciano! That was his name! But…wasn't that his brother's best friend? But anyway, the little Fallen one was standing there, staring in horror at the larger Fallen, who was very tall and very pale. He wore a simple black frock coat, with baggy black pants. His wings were a pure black, malevolence practically radiating off of him. He had something small and distinctly human in a choke hold…

"Ludwig!" He breathed, staring at his brother.

"I let you live, little one. I let you prance around this earth like the little fool you are—you half-breed freak—and what happens? You start talking to people like this," he shook Ludwig. Gilbert bristled. "You go around nearly getting yourself killed by hunters…if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to make me angry!" The arm tightened around Ludwig's neck. Feliciano whimpered.

There was a long silence, Feliciano staring wide-eyed at the pair. Finally, he slowly shut his eyes, and whispered, "What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know." The Fallen smiled evilly, showing off his sharp teeth. "Maybe I'll subject you to a life in servitude. Perhaps I'll torture you. What do you think I should do?"

For some reason…he seemed so familiar—the big one. Just the way he talked to the little one—actually, they both were so familiar. Like…it was almost as if…

"You talked to her. You know I don't like it when you talk to people. I didn't give you permission. What do you suppose I should do to her?"

"You!" Gilbert hissed, bending to his knees to search for his gun. The Fallen—and Ludwig—looked over at Gilbert in surprise, obviously having forgotten about him. "You killed her! It was you!"

The big Fallen quickly got over his surprise and smirked, while Ludwig's eyes widened, and Feliciano let out another choked sob. "Yes…I think I remember you. You tried to kill me. I still haven't quite forgiven you for that."

Ludwig let out a gasp of horror, while Gilbert stopped looking for his gun and tensed, sensing that an attack was coming. He paused for a moment, wondering if he should say anything, before deciding that anything he said now couldn't make it much worse than it already was. "Do your worst!"

"No! Gilbert!" His little brother began writhing in the Fallen's hold, trying desperately to get free. "Let me go! No!"

The Fallen just watched Gilbert with his cold, dead eyes, not a single emotion showing through that perfect mask. Then, ever so slowly, a maniacal grin began to split his face. "You want me to let you go, do you?" He let go of Ludwig's neck, but before the German could react he shoved him forcefully against Gilbert. "Okay. I'll kill you together!" Then, he turned to address Feliciano, the grin never fading for a moment. "Take this as a lesson, Feliciano. This is what happens when you disobey me!"

The Fallen raised one spidery hand, palm facing the pair, fingers pressed together. A small marble of darkness appeared in the center of his palm, before slowly expanding into the size of a baseball. It hovered ominously over the ground, radiating some sort of malevolent energy.

Ludwig steadied himself against his older brother, watching in horror as the dark energy was pointed at their faces. He looked up at Gilbert, expecting his older brother to have an answer, as he always did when they were younger—even if it was a stupid answer, Gilbert had always thought of something.

But his face was blank, and his strong arms tightened around Ludwig.

"We're going to die, aren't we." Ludwig whispered. It wasn't a question. Gilbert didn't respond. "What happened to your gun?"

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, his lips turning down ever-so-slightly. "He's…it wouldn't work on him, West. I'm so sorry."

Ludwig stared at him, looked at the Fallen, and hugged his brother as tight as he could.

Meanwhile, Feliciano watched in horror, knowing that his best friend was about to die. His feet were frozen to the ground, and he couldn't move a muscle; something about his father's presence had always stopped him cold in his tracks. It had happened so many times before—he couldn't save Elizaveta, he couldn't save anyone. And right now, he just wanted Ludwig to live—because his best friend was one of the best people who'd ever existed. Ludwig accepted him for who he was, not even caring that he was partly Fallen…if someone like that didn't deserve to live, no one did.

He tried to yank his feet up, feeling fear starting to course through him as the dark ball of energy began to form at his father's palm. There was no way the brothers would survive—could survive if they were hit by that. Two people would be murdered, because of him—

He would have the murder of his best friend on his hands.

Feliciano threw back his head and screamed in fury, feeling his own energy—a pure white to his father's ebony black—start swirling around inside of him, dancing like lightning over his olive skin. Ludwig and Gilbert stared at him, stunned, while his father turned to look at him in horror.

The spell was broken.

His father turned back to the brothers, and released the energy.

Gilbert closed his eyes.

Feliciano darted forward.

Ludwig didn't close his eyes, even when the swirling ball of black energy came flying at them. He watched as Feliciano, skin flashing a bright white, eyes glowing silver, darted towards the attack, and met it head on.

He watched, feeling detached as Feliciano caught the ball of energy, his face twisted up with pain. He saw the half-angel curl in on himself, trying to keep the dark matter from coming towards the two brothers, even as it shoved him back. Seconds later, Feliciano was nearly in front of him, and Ludwig could feel the energy—a mixture of innocence—no doubt Feliciano—and malignant intent, no doubt Feliciano's father. He could tell, even from where he was standing, that Feliciano would not be able to hold it off for much longer.

He needed to help—support Feliciano, somehow. But what could he do?

Ludwig tentatively reached forwards, Gilbert still hanging onto him, and pressed his hands against Feliciano's back, trying to keep him from being pushed back any further. He was suddenly reminded of earlier that day, when Gilbert had thrown himself against Ludwig, nearly sending them toppling down the stairs. It had been Feliciano's gently, steadying hands that kept them safe.

It seemed so long ago.

But the reaction to Ludwig's steadying hands was not expected.

Feliciano's energy exploded, throwing bright light in all directions, completely smothering the black energy. It lashed out, and seemingly drowned Feliciano's father in the pure, innocent fire. Ludwig couldn't see what was happening to the older Fallen. But he could see the wind whipping through the trees, spiraling up into the sky, like a tornado made out of the pure energy and the gust of nature. And, standing at the center of the storm, was Ludwig, Gilbert…

And Feliciano.

The half-angel was curled in on himself, wrapped completely around the ball of energy, screaming almost as loud as the gale around them. His hair whipped around his delicate face, eyes shut as tight as they could go. His skin crackled and danced with tiny streaks of energy. A ball of white energy surrounded him as he floated in the air, and the only thing grounding him was Ludwig's hands.

Ludwig himself wasn't touched by the maelstrom around them, and neither was Gilbert. The older brother was staring around in shock, watching the lightshow with wide eyes.

"Ludwig…?" He whispered. "What is this…?"

Ludwig opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly Feliciano's screaming stopped. He whipped around, trying to see what had happened, and realized that the bright ball of energy had vanished. Feliciano slowly floated towards the ground, still wrapped around the mass of energy.

Standing in front of him…was Feliciano's father.

Half of his face had been burned off, and so had most of his black clothing—the only thing that remained was his black pants, but not even that remained unscathed. The pants cut off at the knees, where the energy had burned away the rest of their length. He had an incredible body—his arms were muscled, very prominent abs, though there were deep burns all across his skin. He was also panting and huffing, holding a black knife coated with red-silver blood.

Feliciano!

The half-angel stared in shock at his father, lips parted slightly in surprise. Ludwig didn't need to look to know that silver-red blood was slowly soaking the front of his best friend's shirt. When Feliciano coughed, thick globules of blood escaped his lips.

His father began to laugh—high, hysterical, and utterly insane. "You can't escape from me, Feliciano! You are mine! You have always been mine!"

To everyone's surprise, Feliciano smiled, and said only one word.

"Never."

He loosened his arms around the tight mass of energy he'd been holding onto.

The once black ball of energy had turned metallic silver, twice the size it had once been. The strange silver substance was swirling like quicksilver in front of Feliciano, twisting and whirling as though possessed.

Then it stopped, simply floating in the air.

It leapt towards the Fallen with the speed of lightning, coiling itself around the man's neck and forcing itself down his throat. The angel tried to resist at first, clawing angrily at the silver energy, before realizing that it was futile, and instead started screaming in fear. His scream jumped octaves as the stuff entered his mouth, down his throat, and—

He turned silver. First it was his feet, then it traveled up his calves, to his thighs, chest, arms, wings, neck, and finally…

His head was swallowed by silver. He abruptly stopped screaming.

Ludwig stared at the now-paralyzed man in horror, watching the Fallen get transformed into a silver…thing. He couldn't quite tell what had happened to Feliciano's father, and frankly he really didn't want to know. Whatever that energy had done to the Fallen, it had obviously been painful. And now he seemed to be completely paralyzed…he almost looked like a silver statue. Which was just as if not more scary than the live Fallen.

Ludwig's thoughts were interrupted by Feliciano coughing again, blood flying to the ground in front of him. The Italian swayed where he sat…and slowly fell to the ground.

Ludwig jumped forwards to catch him, looking to where Gilbert was standing—he was still staring, shell-shocked, at the statue-fied Fallen, as though he still couldn't quite believe what had happened. That's not going to save Feliciano! He thought angrily. "Gilbert!"

Gilbert let out a very girly scream.

Ludwig would tease him about that later.

"Help me!"

Feliciano woke with a start, staring around curiously.

All his aches and pains had vanished—even the wound on his stomach where his father had stabbed him had miraculously disappeared. He was dressed in a clean white…dress (Okay then?), and he felt better than he had felt in a long time.

He scrambled to his feet, trying to figure out where he was.

Which was, apparently, nowhere.

White sky, white walls, white floor—he couldn't even tell if there were any surfaces of any sort, which was very disorienting.

Then, his eyes caught sight of the only spot of color in the entire room.

A woman sat, her golden hair flowing in graceful waves down her back. Her face was heart shaped, her gentle caramel-colored eyes watching him with a calm intelligence. She was smiling a soft, kind smile, which filled Feliciano with a sort of warmth he hadn't felt for a very long time. Her pure gold wings extended out from her shoulders, settling gracefully in the air behind her. She sat in perfect stillness, not even quivering.

Their identical eyes met.

"Mother…?" He whispered, staring at her in shock. His eyes began to fill with tears at the sight of the woman who had long since died. He had loved his mother, more than he had ever loved anyone else in his entire life.

It was a shame that he could barely remember her.

She simply opened up her arms. Without a second thought he leapt into them, burying himself in her soothing scent and soft gown. He wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could, as though she would disappear, and settled in her lap, feeling very much like a small child again.

"My dear Feli." She said quietly, rubbing his back, just like he remembered. "I missed you."

That was all it took for him to burst into tears.

He cried freely into her dress, without an ounce of restraint; he felt as though he hadn't seen her in a million years. But now that he had her, he would never let her go!

"It is over." She murmured into his hair. "He can't hurt you anymore."

This only made him cry harder.

But there was something niggling in the back of his head—something important that he really should worry about—but for now he was just drinking in his mother, crying into her like he always used to do. However as his sobs died down, his mind cleared; the thing that was worrying him came to the forefront of his mind, forcing him to sit back and let go of his mother, staring at the ground thoughtfully. Noticing his confused expression, she gestured for him to speak.

"Mom…" He said, and glanced up at her, fixing her in his surprisingly sharp gaze. "Am I dead?"

If she was surprised by the bluntness of the question, she didn't show it. "It's your choice." She murmured, staring unblinkingly back.

"What do you mean?" He tilted his head, giving him a very innocent look.

His mother smiled at him fondly. "You're a half-breed."

Feliciano flinched at her brutally honest statement, but only a second later had to try not to laugh; she hadn't changed a bit. The one thing he could remember about her was how she would tell the truth, no matter how rude it was. He couldn't count all the times she'd said, "You're rude, and stupid, and ugly." To some guy who had tried to 'woo' her into going on a date.

"That means, Feli…that you could choose to live, or to die. Go back to that terrible, wonderful, lonely world you live in, or come and live here, with me." She smoothed back his hair with her hands, and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "It's so wonderful, buttercup. You'd never believe it. Green pastures with lush grass, crystal blue skies as far as the eyes can see. And there is always the most peculiar scent, I couldn't possibly give it a name—but it smells so fresh and clean…"

Feliciano closed his eyes and hummed happily, taking in her, her voice, everything. Yes, heaven sounded like a wonderful idea. But…

"I'm sooooooo sorry! I didn't mean to run into you like that! Here, let me help you clean this up."

"It is…it is fine. Now, thank you for your help, but I need to go, please—"

"Wait, I'll help you carry it! Let's be friends!"

"…friends?"

"Yeah, sure! My name's Feliciano, what's yours?"

"Ah…Ludwig. My name is Ludwig. It is a pleasure to meet you, Feliciano."

Feliciano shook off his mother's arms, and slowly got to his feet, his eyes shadowed by his bangs. She watched him questioningly as he stared down at her, though she couldn't see past his auburn fringe. Finally, he said, "I'm sorry, mama…but I can't. I have the most wonderful friends…and I couldn't possibly leave them behind. They helped me, they understood me, and they didn't care when I acted really strangely or anything. One of them even accepted me for who I am.

"There's still so much I can do, back on the earth. I can help the Fallen hunters, so nobody ever ends up like Gilbert again. I can try my best to make some peace on this troubled earth. If I can help, I will." He finally lifted his eyes to look at her, and she was stunned to see tears running down his face. "I love you more than anyone else, mama. But there are still people who need me."

She blinked, obviously shocked at his choice, before her lips curved into a soft, understanding smile. Then, she began to disappear into a golden glitter; first her feet, then her calves, thighs, chest, arms, wings…rather reminiscent of the most recent Fallen angel, which had turned into a silver statue.

Before her mouth was transformed, she murmured, "Feliciano…I am so, so proud of you. Whatever happens now, just know that I am proud of you."

And then she was gone.

Feliciano fell into blackness.

Ludwig sat in the chair next to Feliciano's bed, holding onto his friend's unresponsive hand.

The hour after the energy storm had been a blur; he vaguely remembered Gilbert's frantic voice shouting into a cellphone, calling for an ambulance, while he pressed his hands against Feliciano's chest, trying to staunch the bleeding. Then, there were people; a lot of people, coming and picking up Feliciano and poking him and prodding him and shouting really loudly…and then there was a whirl of action, some more shouting, and then they were both in the ambulance. There was a brief moment of dull panic—"We're losing him!"—before things were okay again. And then there were people—people in white coats asking him what happened, and why was he injured, and blah, blah, blah…the most recent thing he recalled was a short, blond-haired man yelling at the doctor who'd been questioning him—"Matthias Kohler! Can't you see he's traumatized? Leave him alone!"—and finally, finally, he'd been left alone.

Feliciano had been in intensive care unit for several hours as they tried to stabilize him. Even though Ludwig wasn't there personally, he could feel the tension radiating off of every person running in and out of the ICU.

At last…they had called him in, saying that Feliciano was in the safe zone, and that he would pull through. Ludwig glanced over at Gilbert, who was sleeping soundly in the chair next to him, before rising to his feet. Gilbert had had one helluva day; he seriously looked like he needed his sleep. Ludwig couldn't look much better, of course, but he needed to see his best friend.

So here he was, holding onto a pale, unconscious Feliciano. He didn't know why the people in the hospital hadn't made a big fuss about the wings—perhaps Feliciano had some sort of cloaking mechanism of some kind—but he didn't really care. Because his best friend was going to pull through.

Ludwig closed his eyes as he remembered Feliciano's fury at his father for threatening to hurt them; his primal scream of rage as he broke whatever spell the elder Fallen had casted. He had always thought Feliciano to be a bit of a coward, but now it seemed as though he were eating his words.

He squeezed Feliciano's hand comfortingly, his eyes still clenched shut.

What he didn't expect was a weak squeeze back.

Ludwig practically jumped out of his seat, but kept his firm hold on Feliciano. The little Italian didn't have his eyes open, and it didn't look as though he was coming out of unconsciousness, but…had he just imagined it?

He squeezed his hand again. Feliciano responded instantly.

Two liquid-caramel eyes flew open.

For a moment Ludwig could've sworn they'd flashed silver. But it must've been his imagination.

OMG! I'm very proud of this one. It's epic length. Hehe.

If anyone were to ask me where I got the inspiration for this, I would say, 'hell if I know'. Which is the truth. Hell if I know!

I'm a little unhappy with the ending, but what else am I supposed to do with it? It took me a very long time to write this. I wasn't planning on getting stuck on the ending. But tell me if anything needs editing; it will be greatly appreciated.

I was very pleased with the response to the last chapter! It looks like posting the second chap to SMUG K was the right move. I was a little skeptical about it at first, but it turned out alright.

Anyway:

Vampchick2010: Ah, my loyal reviewer! Thank you very much. I like to think myself a good writer, but who am I to judge myself? It's up to other people. People like you! So thank you!

foREVerhauntingme: Yeah, SMUG K and it's sequel are both sad and sweet. I'm a very 'happy endings' person, so even if a lot of shit happens during a story, everything will turn out alright. Yes, I'm a sap. So sue me.

Nokturna168: Yup, Arthur adopted them! He has a soft spot for his boys 3. The reason I didn't have more scenes of their recovery was because I didn't want to make the sequel much longer than the original; maybe one day I'll write one composed of just the recovery moments...hm...

insanelaugtler: *shuffle*...*blink*...*shuffle*... *blush*That's very high praise. Thank you, very much! And I'd never considered making a sequel to 'Facade, but since you requested it, definetly!

Alright, guys, just 3 more chapters plus the sequel to Facade, and it's the ultra-super-massive project I've been working on! The preview is in chapter 40, guys.

Thanks,

IceEckos12

P. S. Okay then...the Document is freaking out...but whatevs. Highly annoying, but whatever. Actually, it's a little more than annoying. Highly irritating. Guh. Sunnovabitch.