A/N:
This chapter is majorly shorter than my other chapters, but I've gone way too long without an update again
It's unedited and I probably forgot something, but ah well~
Lovino didn't want to open his eyes. Even before he was fully conscious, he knew that he would regret it. As his senses slowly returned, he could feel a throbbing headache threatening him with a promise of bruised muscles on the side. Yes, staying in the quiet warmth of unconsciousness seemed wonderful.
He was about to slip away again when the sound of an animal's curious sniffling ripped through the beautifully silent inky blackness.
"…Don't think he's dead, Tony…"
"Then fucking wake him up!" 'Tony' growled, his voice high pitched and almost electronic. The voice grated Lovino's ears like nails on a chalkboard and he grunted quietly.
Apparently, he wasn't quiet enough not to be heard by whoever was above him. "Hey, dude," the not-Tony voice said, gently nudging Lovino's side with a foot. "You okay?"
'No I am not fucking okay,' Lovino growled in his head but the best his vocal chords could offer was another pained groan.
"Hurt," Tony said simply and the other voice 'tsk'-ed. As a hand shook him again, Lovino finally allowed his eyes to flicker open, blinking as a deep, sunset red filtered through his tired eyes.
"Oh, good, you're awake!" the first voice said happily, his black shape moving into Lovino's line of vision and blocking some of the painful red glare from the sun. Lovino looked up at the man in front of him and screamed.
The man in front of him was not a man. Blocking a deep red sun from his eyes was a large black almost eagle-shaped creature. His nose was a large, curved beak of a predator bird and shiny onyx winds lay across his back. A collar of spiked, black feathers grew from around his neck and almost glasses-patterned tufts grew around aquamarine eyes. A small, almost unnoticeable black feather stuck out from the rest growing on his head.
Lovino moved to scramble away from the monster in front of him, only to freeze as his eyes locked with a watery black glare. An alien grey frowned at him with its twig-skinny arms crossed over his tiny chest. "Bitch," the 'Tony'-voice said simply, not amused by the male human's screams.
Somehow calmed by the insult, Lovino glared back at the alien. "I'm not a bitch, bastard."
"Fucking bitch," Tony nodded and moved back to stand with the shadowy monster, bored with the human already.
The creepy, blue-eyed shadow was no longer standing in front of him. In its place was a tall young man with sky (well, not this sky, this one was a brownish mix of black tinted red) blue eyes rimmed by wire glasses and wheat-blonde hair. One piece stuck out stubbornly from the rest and the man's hands were shoved deep into the pockets of a leather jacket with a slightly fuzzy collar. Lovino frowned. Did he just imagine the monster?
"Hey, I didn't mean to scare ya, dude!" the man (okay, so he looked more like a teen than a man, but let's just go with it) apologized, holding out a hand to help Lovino to his feet. "I'm Alfred and this is Tony!" he motioned toward the alien who was already walking away from them through the dead meadow.
Lovino wrinkled his nose. This place was a creepy piece of shit; everything was brown and dead! Where was he, anyway?
Realizing that Alfred was waiting for him to say something, he quickly introduced himself.
"Lovino? That's a funny name!" Alfred grinned. Reflexively, Lovino punched him in the ribs, only to make a small noise of pain and snatch his hand back. Damn that hurt! Were his muscles made of stone?
Alfred frowned and rubbed where Lovino hit. "What was that for?"
"You insulted my name!" Lovino growled.
"Chill, dude, I said it was weird, not bad," Alfred shrugged. He looked around the meadow briefly before turning back to Lovino. "We should get out of here before a patrol comes," he started to walk away, motioning for Lovino to follow.
Lovino looked around him and sighed. What other choice did he have but to follow? And, because this is Lovino we're talking about (and he has the same amount of much luck as a broken mirror), his first step sent him straight back to the ground.
Cursing quietly, he pushed Alfred's helping hand away and grabbed for the object that tripped him. He got to his feet and stared at the lily and carnation notebook. He frowned. If this was here, then where was Spain…?
Alfred saw the notebook and started to panic. "Hide that!" he hissed quietly, taking the notebook and pausing only to rip out a clean page before shoving the book under Lovino's shirt. "Don't show that to anyone unless I say so, okay?"
Lovino yelped as the notebook was shoved down his shirt and flinched away as Alfred folded the paper and pushed it into his pants pocket. "W-what the hell?" Lovino yelped.
"This is for your own safety," he blonde tapped the hidden book "And this," he tapped the paper "Is a hopefully unnecessary precaution."
"For what?" Lovino asked but Alfred didn't answer, instead grabbing his wrist in an impossibly strong grip and dragging him across the field.
"Now we really have to leave." He mumbled more to himself than to Lovino.
"Why? What the fuck did the notebook do? I want answers, bastard!" Lovino shouted as he tried to pull out of Alfred's hold and horribly failing. He was horribly confused; his old cat had attacked him and he woke up in a dead meadow with an alien and a suspicious teenager! You would be confused, too!
As he continued to rant, Alfred's other hand made itself comfortable over his mouth. "For now, let's just concentrate on being silent and not getting us both killed."
"Killed? By who? Why?" Lovino's questions were muffled by the hand.
"Stay quiet! Arthur will hopefully be able to explain…"
Arthur. Why was that name so familiar? Briefly, two angels - one black and demented and the other… mostly humanoid and blonde and on the pale side - flashed in front of his eyes, disappearing as soon as he blinked.
Lovino prayed to whatever God hadn't abandoned him that Arthur wasn't either of them.
.~.~.~.~.
Spain quickly got to his feet, briefly looking at the unconscious, older Romano before crouching low again to hide from the approaching footfalls. He hated himself for doing this, but he had no choice! He had to help Master or Master's mate would die!
As a shadow-creature and a grey approached Romano, Spain shrank farther away to wait.
Waiting, waiting; he was always waiting.
Always, even as his internal clock ticked on.
Tick tock; tick tock…
Spain snapped out of his thoughts as Romano started to yell. The grey was gone and the nightmare was now a dream and Romano had human emotion-vibes rolling off of him in sheets. He was scared, confused, and angry, trying to pull away from the blonde dream who was leading him away.
Spain followed, staying low to the ground as he approached the angel-shadow's cottage. There was no way that he was letting Romano out of his sight again!
.~.~.~.~.
Alfred pulled Lovino up to an old cottage that looked like it was just starting to fall into disrepair. Lovino stared up at it for a moment. Why did he have this strange feeling of déjà vu?
Alfred ran up to the door and shoved his way inside with a loud "Artie, I'm back! And we have company!"
There was a cracking-pop sound from somewhere farther inside the cottage, followed by an accented yell of "I swear, Alfred, If it's another alien or god forbid another whale… and don't call me 'Artie'!"
"Aw, you love it!" Alfred called back with a grin, steering Lovino towards what was probably the kitchen. "Ew, what's that smell?" Alfred groaned and Lovino wrinkled his nose at the scent of bad eggs and old meat. "You're not cooking, are you, Artie?"
Lovino walked through the kitchen entryway and saw a blonde angel turning away from a stove. Lovino stared, blinked a few times, rubbed his eyes and blinked again. There was no way that there was an angel standing in front of him.
The angel's wings drooped a bit as Alfred walked in. his (very large, Lovino noted) eyebrows furrowed and he bit his lip lightly. "You… you don't like my cooking?"
Lovino covered his nose against the unholy stench coming from the stove as Alfred took in the angel's crestfallen look and quickly wrapped him in a hug. "H-hey, I was just joking," he comforted. "I love your cooking!"
He was lying, Lovino could hear it in his voice, but the angel seemed to brighten a bit, at least enough to notice Lovino's presence.
"Who's this?" he asked quietly, moving out of Alfred's arms to move closer and inspect Lovino. Arthur's eyes were thoughtful and confused, as if he knew more about Lovino than the Italian did himself, but his eyes were searching for new information as well.
Lovino swallowed hard, unnerved by the angel's prying eyes. They were familiar but foreign, poison-green and allowing memories – no, dreams, only dreams – to resurface and cloud his already spinning mind almost over the breaking point.
"Said his name is Lovino," Alfred answered when he realized that the Italian was unable to speak.
"Lovino?" Arthur seemed surprised, as if he was expecting an answer he wasn't given. However, instead of explaining his surprise, he extended his hand to Lovino in a friendly shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you," Arthur said. "I'm Arthur, and you've already met Alfred. Now, Lovino, where are you from? We've never seen you around the village before."
"I-Italy," Lovino choked out, his brain still muddled by the flickering remains of childhood nightmares. He was so distracted that he didn't see how Arthur's eyes kept wandering to his chest, where the notebook was clumsily hidden.
"Where's Italy?" Alfred asked. "I've never heard if it. It sounds fancy."
Lovino frowned. How could he have never heard of Italy?
Arthur was frowning, too, lost in worried thoughts. This boy… man looked just like Ro-… the lost Host. He was even from the same place in reality. Arthur looked the nervous, fidgety, and confused young man over again. This couldn't possibly be him, right?
Arthur sighed. Well, there was only one way to find out…
The angel cleared his throat to grab Lovino and Alfred's attention again. "Alfred, love, would you mind telling Lovino a few of the ground rules for staying here? If he has nowhere else to go, he can stay here; but he needs to know how to stay safe."
Alfred groaned. "Can't you teach him? They're your rules!"
The angel glared at his (Lovino guessed) lover. "No, I'm going out to find the trio. I'll be back soon."
"Please be careful," Alfred kissed him briefly. The woods around Arthur's house weren't dangerous, but if the patrols found him…
"I'll be fine," Arthur assured, walking toward the door and allowing his angel form to be replaced by an inky nightmare counterpart, making Lovino gasp quietly and shrink away.
Arthur watched the Italian's reaction. "It seems you'll have a lot of work to do. Best get to it," and with that, the demon-angel left, leaving Lovino alone with Alfred again.
After a few seconds, Alfred cleared his throat. "So… Take a seat?"
.~.~.~.~.
Arthur hurried through the town, walking as calmly as possible past one of Sadik's patrols and made his way to Vash's bar. Only when the door was securely closed behind him did he change back to his dream form.
"Well look what the cat dragged in!" a man seated at a nearby table laughed. "It's the little forest angel!"
"Oh, belt up," Arthur growled, shaking off the offensive cat comment.
"Arthur?" Francis heard the man and slid away from his barstool to grab Arthur. "Mon ami, we haven't seen you in so long! Has Alfred been keeping you too… busy to visit us?"
Arthur tugged his arm away, but he took a seat between the blonde and Antonio, who nodded in greeting. Gilbert sat on the other side of Antonio, forehead on the counter and his grip strong on his fifth beer. "Hush up, Frog." Arthur glared. "I'm not here to listen to your perverted comments," he dropped his voice as Vash walked over to them. Vash ushered a curious Lili away from the counter and looked warily around his bar before nodding slightly, telling Arthur that it was safe for him to continue. If Arthur willingly left the safety of his cottage, then he must have found out important information to help their rebellion.
Arthur took a moment to think about the best way to start. Antonio and Francis watched him with worried curiosity; there was always the chance that this would just be more bad news…
"Well," Arthur started quietly "Today, Alfred brought home a man…"
"Oh, mon cher!" Francis sighed dramatically, throwing 'comforting' arms around the angel. "What a cruel thing for him to do! He is not worthy of your love-!"
"Not like that, you perverted git!" Arthur blushed and shoved Francis off of his barstool and onto the floor. "I mean he found a man wandering around and brought him home!"
"What? Is this man an idiot?" Vash frowned. "It's common knowledge that wandering around with the patrols out is practically suicide!"
"Where did he find him?" Antonio asked, agreeing with Vash. Wandering around was a death sentence if you didn't move fast and just wandered aimlessly.
"He didn't say, but I think it was at the old meadow," Arthur explained. "He and Tony have been visiting it recently because of some of the old stories that Tony dug up about Hosts."
"So you came out here to tell us about a random moron that your lover found in a forbidden area?" Gilbert raised an eyebrow. It all seemed pointless to him.
"No! Well… yes," Arthur hesitated for a minute "No, not exactly. You see… the man had a notebook."
The four men stared at the angel in shock. "Y-you mean… a Host notebook?" Antonio whispered worriedly. It was impossible for a grown man to just find a Host notebook lying around, much less use it correctly so that they found Sogno, and the only way for a child to obtain one was to be given one by a shadow. The only explanation was that this man was an old Host had returned…
Which had never happened and was therefore impossible.
Arthur nodded. "It's a Host notebook. I didn't actually see it, but he was hiding it under his shirt and Alfred was twitchy, so we can assume for now that it is."
"What did this mystery man look like?" Francis asked the question that had been hanging over them, allowing a small ray of hope that a Host was really back, but he quickly squashed the foolish emotion.
"Hazel-gold eyes, olive skin, slightly wavy chocolate brown locks and an antenna-like curl," Arthur described, waiting for the inevitable outburst of disbelief.
Antonio processed the information as quickly as possible. If this man had a Host's notebook and a flyaway curl….
"Romanito!" he gasped, probably a bit too loudly if his friend's flinching and the other customers in the bar's looks meant anything.
Arthur clapped a hand over his mouth "Quiet!" he hissed. "He might be Romano, but he might not. He says his name is Lovino and he's from Italy, in reality. Now, Romano might have also been from Italy, but we never learned his reality-name. For now, until we're one-hundred-percent sure, e is not 'Romanito', he is Lovino. Got it?"
Antonio and the others nodded, but they were only half listening to the angel's instructions, all lost in their own thoughts. Antonio allowed hope to spark and flutter in his ribcage as he thought about his beautiful Italian boy, all grown up and back near him again.
To him, Romano had returned, and he wouldn't let him go again.
.~.~.~.~.
Lovino crossed his arms over his chest and let his eyes drift around the kitchen for what was probably the twentieth time since the freaky angel had left. He had calmed down phenomenally during that time, mostly because there wasn't any demon-bastards or aliens around him and hew as now waiting, bored as hell and at a normal-looking table in a normal-looking kitchen, for Alfred – a not so normal man – to start explaining.
Alfred was busy trying to save the kitchen from whatever it was that his lover had been 'cooking' and Lovino was only briefly amused when it ate the spoon Alfred had been using as a weapon.
Once the nuclear disaster was dealt with, Alfred returned and sat down, watching Lovino as Lovino watched him.
"You gonna try and explain what the hell happened to me or just stare?" Lovino frowned, not enjoying their unintentional staring contest.
Alfred nodded, continuing his silence for another few seconds. "Well, to start, do you know how you got here? And no, I don't mean how you were born and your life history and all that other bull-crap that Gilbert always uses as an answer…"
Gilbert. Somehow, even that name sparked some recognition in the back of his mind, but Lovino shook it away like the rest. "Truthfully, I have no damn clue," he admitted. "I was just following my cat," he didn't see Alfred's twitch "Through this old garden that was on my grandfather's land and I found this," he pulled the lily-and-carnation notebook out from underneath his shirt and let it sit on the table. "I'm going to assume that this book is pretty important, if the whole fact that you made me hide it means anything."
Alfred nodded, taking the book into his hands and flipping through the bloodstained pages. "Truthfully, I've never seen one of these up close," he admitted. "Artie says that I had one at one point, but I don't remember that."
Lovino frowned. "You've never seen a notebook?"
"I've seen notebooks," Alfred clarified, "But this is a… different kind of notebook."
"How so?" Lovino leaned back in his chair expectantly.
Alfred turned to a random page, the bloodiest page with an almost perfect handprint of a small child. Lovino saw the blood and could briefly hear the memory of a child's screams – his own? – and saw glowing emeralds peering out of living, breathing shadows before red – so much red, so much blood – clouded his eyes…
Alfred's voice thankfully broke his trance. The blonde tapped the bloody page with a finger and smirked, oblivious to the Italian's momentary absence. "Because this one opens up a passage between this world and your 'Italy' world. It's not a storybook."
Lovino stared at him before laughing in his face. "You're insane!" he sputtered out between laughs.
"Then how would you explain waling up in a dead meadow, seeing an alien and a demon, and them meeting an angel after following your… cat into a garden and finding this?" Alfred raised an eyebrow, a triumphant smirk ghosting his lips.
Lovino stopped laughing abruptly. "…I'm dreaming?" he tried.
"Nope!"
"I hit my head really hard?"
"Maybe when you fell into the meadow, but no."
"Then I must be dead. I got attacked by my childhood pet and died in my garden. This is my own personal corner of Hell."
"That's just cruel, dude. This isn't Hell, no matter how screwed up it might be. And you're not dead. Arthur obviously took an interest in you, and he doesn't pay attention to dead people anymore."
Lovino continued to stare at him, not totally processing the "doesn't pay attention to dead people anymore" comment. "…So this is real? I'm not dead or dreaming?"
"Yep, it's one-hundred-percent real!" Alfred grinned. Maybe he was better at explaining than he thought!
"If this is real… then where's my cat?"
"…What?"
A/N:
So, sorry for a short, probably boring chapter, but I'll hopefully get another chapter up soon (keyword: hopefully)
Review, maybe?
Adios for now~