WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: flashbacks to rape, mentioned intimate partner rape

It is Friday, 3:40 PM, one week, fifteen hours, and forty-five minutes after It happened.

Ludwig is working, albeit from home, but he's had an arrangement since Tuesday night.

Chun-Yen, who handles lunches and some of the assistant managing at the Mask Café, lives close by and has a car. So, if she comes by at eight in the morning, Ludwig can give her the baked goods he made last night and earlier in the morning, and she can hand off more ingredients, and then he can spend the rest of the day baking and bookkeeping for the café without having to go outside quite yet.

He has gone outside a few more times, but it still feels like every single pedestrian can see the nearly-faded bruises hidden by his clothing and like he can feel what they think and what they think are ugly words like the ones they used, and without Feliciano or Gilbert there it's all Ludwig can do not to turn tail and run.

Speaking of Gilbert, he's moving out on Sunday.

Right now, though, Gilbert is at work, and so is Feliciano, and there's a batch of ginger cookies in the oven to be handed to Chun-Yen tomorrow, and Ludwig should be concentrating on bookkeeping but he's not.

He's debating calling Alfred.

He hasn't seen Alfred since Monday night when he got called to the Fourth Street station to Assist the Police in Their Inquiries since he'd been at the bar with Ludwig and he knew them, more or less, he'd said he kind of remembered them from high school, and one of them was a semi-regular at the Mask Café, and what could have been the harm in talking—

Anyway, Ludwig had seen Alfred then, and if he knows Alfred at all Alfred will be blaming himself for It and that's not where the blame lies and Ludwig can't let Alfred take it, not Alfred who was his first friend when they were in high school and Ludwig had just moved from Germany and was too nervous to talk to anyone.

He picks up the phone and dials.

"Hey, this is Alfred Jones, what's—"

"Hello, Alfred."

There is silence. "Lud."

"Yes?"

More silence. "How're you doin'?"

"Better." There is another silence.

"Uh. Lud. About last Thursday—"

Ludwig knew this was coming, and he's ready. "It wasn't your fault—"

"— I feel like crap about that whole thing, man— wait what did you say— oh no. I know you, Lud, and any minute now you're gonna start blaming yourself and that's not gonna fly with me."

"And I know you and you were about to start blaming yourself."

There is a very long pause, and then Alfred coughs.

"Are you really doing better?"

"I— yes." That's not a lie, not as such, but there's still a little twinge of guilt. "I. Uh. I called to ask if you wanted to go do something. This weekend. Since we haven't talked in a while."

"I'm free Sunday, we could go see a movie or something and you could bring Feli and I could bring Kat and it'd be cool and we could go out for food afterwards too! Also get popcorn."

Ludwig can't stop himself from smiling, because he can already guess which movie Alfred will want to see and it will be a children's movie and Feliciano will agree with Alfred and he knows this because it's happened a million times before, and they always ended up getting the extra-large bag of popcorn too. It'll be good to distract himself, anyway.

"Sounds good."

"Great, man— oh shit my boss is coming over gotta go bye!" And a click.

Ludwig feels like maybe a bit of weight has been lifted off his chest, and goes back to the finances.

It is Friday, 8:51 PM, one week, twenty hours, and fifty-six minutes after It happened.

Feliciano is able to make edits to the list, which now stands as follows:

Prosecution: yes

If he wants to talk or not about what happened: no

Going back to work: this Monday

How can I help/how can Gilbert/Al/Lovino/Arthur/Marianne/Mattie help: stay close

Boundaries: no naked, no sex, hugs ok if ask, kisses ok on mouth without tongue

He gives Ludwig a quick kiss on the lips as they settle down for bed, and it's probably one of the best ones he's ever had even though physically speaking he's had way better.

It is Sunday, 2:07 PM, one week, two days, fourteen hours, and twelve minutes after It happened.

Ludwig and Feliciano meet Alfred and Yekaterina outside the apartment building, and a debate almost immediately begins over who's driving.

Feliciano is refused immediately, but calls shotgun; Alfred ends up backing out, as does Ludwig, so it is up to Yekaterina and Alfred and Ludwig have to sit in the—

—in the backseat.

It hasn't been a good day for Ludwig regardless, he was up early because of nightmares and the outside made him kind of jittery but he will be damned if he can't go see a children's movie, if he disappoints Feliciano and Alfred and Yekaterina and himself, but the backseat— and this car is kind of similar to the one where—

Ludwig takes deep breaths and counts to five. It is not the same car. Nobody here wants to hurt him. Deep breaths.

Yekaterina has started driving, and Alfred and Feliciano are chattering, and Ludwig balls his hands into fists and tries to pretend that nothing is wrong—

-they're laughing above him and maybe that cuts deeper than their words but he's being split in half regardless god please-

No no no he is not going to start thinking about It now, deep breaths and count to five—

-one of them turns him over so they're face to face and that's the worst because he has to see he can't just hide his face in the seat and his stare digs its way into his skin like burning metal and all he can do is close his eyes-

Deep breaths deep breaths—

-when they get him into the car he knows what's going to happen but he can't do anything move fight yell anything and all he can do is hope it's some horrible unfunny cruel joke as they hold him down and later he realizes to them it is-

—the car pulls over and Ludwig lunges for the door, barely noticing Alfred's "oof", and manages to make it to a trashcan before he's sick. Feliciano hurries down the sidewalk after him, Alfred and Yekaterina following, and Yekaterina hands him a tissue to wipe his mouth with and Feliciano holds him by the upper arms and looks right into his eyes.

"Ludwig. Name five things you see."

He tries to get his breath under control enough to speak, digging his nails into his palms. "T-trashcan. A bookstore. A skyscraper. Some cars. A parking meter." Breathe in, breathe out, count five. You don't see the car, you're not in the car, it's not here.

"Good. Okay. Four things you feel."

Alfred has started patting his back, awkwardly but still there, so "Alfred. Um. My shoes. There's sort of a breeze. It's warm."

"Three sounds." Feliciano is moving in for a hug. Breathe in.

"Cars. People talking. The air conditioner in the building near us." He glances up at the small restaurant behind them. "They should fix that."

Breathe out. "Two smells."

"Asphalt." Breathe in. "Greek food." Breathe out.

Feliciano looks up at him. "What do you like about yourself?"

"I— I'm good at making cakes." There. There. It's okay.

It's the first time It has made him throw up, and Ludwig wishes it hadn't been in public where it would make Alfred go white-faced and Yekaterina look stricken, but it's over and done with. Gone. There.

Eventually Alfred tries "You okay now?"

Ludwig nods.

Yekaterina takes one look and says "If you want to get back in the car, you are having the front seat."

"Thanks. Just. Can I have a minute?"

Feliciano stretches up on tiptoes and whispers "You're sure you're okay now? Because if— if you want to go back they'd understand—"

"I'm okay." He takes a final, deep breath, hugs Feliciano back, and then turns to Alfred and repeats "I'm okay."

He has to close his eyes when he gets into the front seat, but Feliciano leans from the back and squeezes his hand and it's more okay than before.

After the movie, they go out for a snack at Alfred's insistence. Midway through, he and Feliciano leave to go do something, maybe get more soda, and Yekaterina turns to Ludwig.

"My sister," she begins, looking more melancholy than Ludwig's ever seen her before, "my sister Irina had— some of the problems you are having. Her boyfriend was not a nice man." For a second her face goes icy and brittle, and Ludwig doesn't know what to say beyond "I'm sorry."

Yekaterina continues. "She also was very sad and very hurt, but she found—" —she writes hurriedly on a napkin with a purple pen from her bag— "this website, and it helped her. Maybe it will help you?" She looks up, smile nearly back in place. "I cannot do much else, but maybe you should look into it. From what Alfred has told me of you, you and Irina are rather alike."

Alfred returns with one of the largest sodas Ludwig has ever seen in his life. "Wait. We're talking about Irina?"

"Sort of." Yekaterina looks at him, and then the soda.

Alfred sucks in a breath through his teeth and then exhales in a whoof. "Oh."

Fortunately, Feliciano knows how to change subjects, and starts talking about the movie instead.

When they get home, Ludwig follows Yekaterina's advice, and remembers how he'd thanked her when he and Feliciano were returning to their apartment building and she'd smiled and told him that there was no need for "Yekaterina", Katyusha was just fine.

It is Sunday, 10:34 PM, one week, two days, twenty-two hours, and thirty-nine minutes after It happened.

Feliciano makes a small but important change to the list, just six letters.

If he wants to talk or not about what happened: not yet