New chapter! I know I just posted one... but it was short so here's another one!
Warnings: Not a whole lot. Mild violence
Ludwig was laying on his bed, trying hard not to focus on the crushing loneliness that weighed down his heart and thoughts. The only thing that kept him alive, that kept him trying to live and carry on, was Feliciano's promise. His Italian had said he would be back in a few days. He should be able to be alright for that long. He had never been this alone though. Even when he had been separated from his brother initially, he had had Elizabeta, but she was in trouble with trying to secede from Soviet control. It was funny, he could have sworn she had already done that, but then he really hadn't paid much attention when she had talked to him. Physically he felt better each day, the knowledge his Italian still loved him strengthening his drive to live, but one days like today, where he dwelt on just how alone he was in the world, he would slip back into his crushing, hopeless depression.
Berlitz, his German Shepard, rested his blocky head on the edge of Ludwig's navy colored sheets. Clear brown eyes peered up at Ludwig sadly, a soft whimper sounding, much too high for such a large dog. He rested a paw on Ludwig's hand as if he knew how his master felt and was saying, "I'm here!"
With a slight smile, Ludwig rubbed the dog's head. "Don't look so sad. I'll be alright... For now, let's go outside to clear my head." He said, smiling a bit more when the dog lifted his head, perked his ears and wagged his tail happily, all a reaction to the word "Outside". Slowly, Ludwig sat up and rested his feet on the floor. With a deep breath, he got up, pleased when the majority of his pain turned out to just be left over aches. "Come, Berlitz." He commanded, happy to have something to do.
Berlitz raced down the stairs and to the back door, tail wagging rapidly. His entire body energy screamed "Play!" He began to pace as Ludwig slowly made his way down the stairs, impatient. With a deep bark he voiced his displeasure.
"I'm coming. Mein Gott dog... You're worse than a hungry Italian." Ludwig grumbled, rolling his paler than usual blue eyes with good natured humor. He had just barely gotten to the foot of the stairs when a rapid knock came from the door. The annoying, repetitious sound caused Berlitz to race from the back door to the front door with a deep, furious bark rising up in his throat to echo dangerously throughout the house. "Schweigen!" Ludwig commanded, heading to the door with guarded eyes. The German Shepard immediately fell silent and sat at Ludwig's feet. "Gut." He commented, patting Berlitz's head before opening the door. "What do you want?" He asked, half hostile half curious and completely incredulous at who he saw outside his house.
"It's Feliciano! Ivan captured him, Iggy and the tomato bastard when we were trying to bust out the albino potato bastard. You have to help me and Elizabeta save them!" An antsy Lovino said, sounding uncharacteristically desperate. "Por favore potato bastard."
Ludwig disappeared in the house for a few moments, leaving Lovino to pace rapidly back and forth on the front porch. The weakened blonde nation raced up the stairs as fast as his stiff, aching body would allow, and down the hall into his room. With calm eyes, he walked to the dresser in the corner and pulled out his military green cargo pants and pulled on a clean black tank top before he grabbed his gun and made his way back down the hall, down the stairs and to the front door once more.
"Gekommen!" He commanded, anger and determination rolling off him in waves. For the frst time since the wall was constructed, his blue eyes filled with emotion. "Lead the way Lovino" His voice was full of authority and strength, and even though his body ached, he stood tall and proud. He still wasn't the same Ludwig from before the war, as he was tangibly darker and, if it was possible, more intimidating than before, but he was close to that honorable nation as he had been before the rise of Hitler. No one messes with mein bruder, or mein Italien and gets away with it. He vowed to himself silently as Lovino began to make his way to his car to head back to Ivan's house. I am coming.
Antonio held Arthur close to him, laying on the floor with the Brit tight against his chest. Both were having issues sleeping, but neither wanted to break the silence in the room. Soft lips brushed against Antonio's clavicle, causing the man to jump slightly in which Arthur laughed softly, only to jump in turn when a cry of terror echoed around the room from where Feliciano was sleeping.
"N-No! No No! Ludwig! Luddy save me! Luddy por favore! Por favore!" Feliciano cried out in his sleep, tossing and turning. Ivan almost had him. He could feel the icy hands roaming across his chest. "No! Luddy!" He screamed again, tears leaking from his closed eyes. Ivan. Ivan was everywhere. Everywhere! Trying to take him away. Trying to do such horrible things. Feliciano's heart beat too fast in his chest, pumped full of fear driven adrenaline.
Arthur sat up and looked over at Feliciano in the gloom, eyes worried. "Antonio... should we wake him, love" He whispered softly, meeting Antonio's green eyes with his own, both mirror images of concern. When they both turned to look at the struggling Italian though, Gilbert had wrapped a bruised appendage around Feliciano's scrawny waist and pulled him closer, comforting the terrified mind with his warmth. A silver haired head lifted off the bed and glanced over at Arthur and Antonio, grief stricken and for once, a little fearful before he laid back down.
"Dios mio... How are we going to get out of this one Arthur? I think... We might be stuck here for a while.
Antonio murmured, pulling Arthur back down against his chest and pressing his nose against the Brit's neck, drinking in his scent and letting it comfort him. If the two found it hard to sleep before, it was nothing compared to the hopeless prospect of sleep now.
"You're telling me this entire plan was your idea? That's awesome! Almost as awesome as the awesome me! Kesese. Too bad it didn't work like you had planned though, ja?" Gilbert rasped, impressed at the sudden defiant spark that had spurred Feliciano to action. "Not gonna lie squirt, I didn't know you had it in you. You suppose Liza and Lovino will be able to get help?"
Feliciano shrugged, finding it hard not to stare at the Prussian's bruised, mangled skin. The man's entire chest was exposed, and the pigmentless skin was almost completely black and blue and purple. Only a couple fist sized patches remained unscathed. The worst part, in Feliciano's mind, wasn't the ghastly patchwork of colors crisscrossing across the entirety of his torso and back, but instead it was the deep spider webbing gash that stretch over the silver haired man's right temple. The bottom edge of the temporal bone, his cheek bone and the right edge of his optic canal all had been broken by a vicious blow, leaving the entire right side of the man's face was a dark, sickly black color. Whenever the injury was brought up though, Gilbert shut down and refused to answer any questions about it. The small Italian tore his eyes away from Gilbert's injured, battered body with a shudder. "I don't know... Elizabeta may not even have understood what I tried to tell her. They may not get help at all..." The usually cheerful gleam in Feliciano's eyes was gone, leaving behind gloomy depression.
Gilbert winced noticeably as he moved to hug Feliciano, yelping loudly as he banged his ribs against the smaller man too hard. "Cheer up Feli. It... It could be worse... ja?" He panted, wrapping bruised and lacerated arms around his abused ribs, trying to hold himself together.
"Says the one who looks like the survived a bloody apocalypse." Arthur muttered, sitting in Antonio's lap on the floor. The bushy eyebrowed blonde leaned back against his Spaniard's chest, who in turn wrapped his arms around Arthur and rested a slightly prickly chin on his shoulder. "When does Ivan usually come down to bother you Gilbert?" He asked with anger thick in his voice
"Whenever he feels like it? He comes down whenever he feel the need to "break my spirit"." Gilbert rasped before breaking into a fit of harsh coughing, blood splattering the ground from the force of the coughs. It took him a few agonized moments to control the coughing, and when he finally was able to breathe and speak again without interruptions, his breath rattled loudly in his throat and chest. "Es tut mir leid..." He rasped, voice unable to be any louder than a whisper.
Everyone was looking at the Prussian in concern. Antonio and Arthur exchanged worried glances and Feliciano looked like he wanted to help, but he didn't have the first clue in how to. For a brief moment, it looked like Gilbert was going to make a joke to lighten the mood, but then all four sets of eyes shot to above them as an angry shout sounded from upstairs, followed by the crashing of some heavy object as it fell to the floor. Curiously, they all listened, trying to make out the angry words.
"V-Ve? That sounds like mio fratello!" Feliciano gasped, eyes widening in terror. "Lovino... Lovino be careful..." He hadn't realized he was trembling until black and blue arms had found their way around his frame once more.
"Feliciano... Lovino will be alright. He'll be ok..." He rasped, though deep in the back of his mind doubt raged freely. Only Lovino? If it's only Lovino... He doesn't stand a chance.
Lovino and Elizabeta were twisting around Ivan, eyes flashing with fury. Eliza slammed her frying pan against the tall man's ribs with a ringing crack while Lovino wen to strike the Russian in the head with a crow bar. "Where is mio fratello and the other bastards, vodka bastard?" Lovion growled, yelping in fear as a lead pipe swung dangerously close to his head. One blow with that thing and he'd been unconscious. A nasty crack sounded again, followed by a sharp scream of pain on Elizabeta's part. He didn't know what Ivan had hit, but the way Elizabeta screamed, he was sure it had hurt.
Ivan brought his pipe up and sent it crashing down towards Lovino's head as he mused, but the lithe Italian moved dodging the blow. Before he could go to strike again, a frying pan smacked the back of his head, leaving him reeling. "Why can't you all just leave me alone? I was told to keep the Prussian, da?" He growled, staling until he could see clearly again by talking. Without warning he lashed out at Lovino again, hitting him in the shoulder with a nasty crack.
The older Italian brother dropped his crow bar with a curse and tried to move his arm, but the blow had popped the joint out of socket. He howled in pain and rage as he dropped to the floor to avoid another blow and rolled away to safety. "Eliza, watch out!" He called as Ivan turned almost inhumanly fast in his efforts to strike Elizabeta.
The Hungarian woman ducked and slammed the handle of her pan up under his sternum, grinning in satisfaction as Ivan backed up with a huff, a cold hand moving to press against the throbbing spot. Elizabeta wasn't giving the man the chance to escape her though and she sprang forward after him, smacking him upside the head with her frying pan again. "You had permission to imprison Gilbert! Not Arthur. Not Antonio. Not Feliciano." She growled, sounding dangerous.
Ivan grinned despite himself. "Kolkolkol! We will be seeing about that." He said with a short bark of chilling laughter. He ignored the trickle of blood that was running down his neck, not even bothering to wipe it off before he spun and lashed out at Elizabeta without warning, smashing his pipe against her ribs. His grin widened at her gasp of pain and he raised his pipe to strike again, only to find a heavy weight crash into him and latch onto his back.
When Ivan had managed to land a blow on the whirlwind of fury that was Elizabeta, he had sprung to his feet and launched himself onto Ivan's back, wrapping his working arm tightly around the large, cold man's neck. "You can't win Ivan! Give them to us!" He growled, securing himself further by wrapping his legs around the Russian's waist and tightening his one armed choke hold.
"Nyet!" Ivan managed to get out. Since when had Italians had physical strength? His lavender eyes burned furiously as he slammed Lovino back against the wall, trying to get him to let go. He was so busy trying to get the Italian off of him so he could properly breathe and engage in the fight once more, that he didn't see the figure in the shadows of the house as it headed towards the door to the basement.
Such a terrible place to end a chapter! The next one thing's get interesting~ Reviews are awesome! Thank you to all the people coming back to read each new chapter!