Blood. So much blood.

His grandfather laid in his bed and red stain the sheets, like spilled wine over a white table cloth. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

"L-Lovino..." His grandfather coughed, and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. He knew his grandfather was dying, the life seeping from his body into the sheet. Augustus grabbed his arm in a weak grip and he stumbled forward. "Son... Take this..."

Augustus pressed a dagger into his shaking hand. "Take...care of your brother. Keep him safe... Promise." When he didn't say anything, his grandfather gripped his wrist tightly. "Promise!"

"I-I p-promise," he said, shaken from his shock.

"Good boy... Trust no one... No one..." Augustus released his wrist and fell forward onto the floor at his feet. Blood continued to pool from his wound and his grandfather stopped moving. Lying still. Completely still.

He screamed. He screamed long after the servants came and tried to calm him, pulling him away from the dead body of his grandfather, Augustus Vargas. His screaming didn't stop until the chaos had woken his little brother, then he remember his promise and he fell silent, shutting his grief deep inside him.

A scream woke him, he jerked up and and groped for his knife, searching for the bitter comfort it brought him. His breath came unevenly and ragged, and his hands shook as he dug around him. He was quaking so badly, he fell from the bed and sat on the floor with his head in his hands, taking deep gulps of breath. In the bed, Feliciano began to rouse, calling to him softly. Lovino quickly dragged himself onto the bed and smoothed a hand over Feliciano's hair.

"Shhh, go back to sleep." He pressed a hand over Feliciano slowly opening eyes and began to sing a lullaby, his voice jerky and unsteady. He wouldn't allow his little brother to see him breaking. Soon, Feliciano's breathing softened and his little brother feel asleep. Lovino sprinted from the room, going to the place he last remember having his blade.

Where is it? Where is it! Lovino searched the kitchen, looking under the table on his hands and knees. He felt vulnerable and naked without the comforting steel at his side. How could he have forgotten his beloved blade and gone to bed without it? Lovino sat up and growled. If his knife wasn't here, that could only mean Arthur had taken it; he knew Feliciano would never touch the weapon.

Arthur's better have a good excuse. He stomped from the kitchen to Arthur's bedroom. Fortunate for the blond, he wasn't there and it gave Lovino time to cool his anger some. Lovino went back out into the hallway, his arms crossed and expression stormy. He didn't see how it would benefit Arthur to take his knife, unless he was just trying to fool with him, and that was unacceptable. He stalked to the library and found Arthur bent over his desk, looking at something with a monocular. The blond must have heard him enter, because he hurried to shove something into a drawer. I'm losing my touch, he thought bitterly. The bastard can hear me coming now.

"Good morning, love." Arthur smiled at him. Dark bruises marred the blond's handsome face from the fight he knew Arthur had been in.

"Cut the shit, Arthur. Where the hell is it?" Lovino felt cranky and ill-tempered from waking up weaponless, and then being reminded of how soft he's getting.

"Where is what?"

"Arthur, I swear to God, I'm going to cut off your dick in your sleep if you do not give it back right now," he growled.

"That sounds a bit harsh." Arthur laughed nervously, but quickly stopped when Lovino's glare only darkened. "Alright, calm down. I have it right here." The blond produced his blade from a drawer in his desk.

"You touch my knife again without my permission—I don't care if I like you a lot—I'll ruin that pretty face of yours," he spat, hiding the knife in the folds of his clothes.

Arthur's eyes narrowed and raked over him, analyzing him like a mathematical problem. "Why are you angry this morning?"

"Maybe it had to do with my stole knife, you bastard."

"Is it really that important?"

"Yes," Lovino snapped. In truth, that dream had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

"That weapon is well-made and a beautiful blade. How did you come by it?"

"I didn't fucking steal it, if that's what you're implying." He saw Arthur blink in surprise at his harsh tone and he felt a twinge of guilt.

"I wasn't—"

"I know." Lovino sighed and passed a hand over his eyes. "Just forget it."

"Alright... What does the V stand for?"

"What?"

"On your knife."

He took out his knife and ran his fingers over the V engraved into the steel of the blade. It was a fine blade, made of the best steel money could buy. It had been passed down in his family from father to son for generations. It was the only reminder he had left of what he once was, of what he lost, of who he would have become if life hadn't chosen a different path for him. If he had ever sold the knife, he and his brother probably could have lived a year, maybe even two, off the money it brought. His lips began to form the name Vargas, but he hesitated. 'Trust no one,' his grandfather's voice echoed in his ear.

"It stands for very."

"Very?" Arthur gave him a confused stare.

"As in, Very-much-none-of-your-fucking-business." He slipped the knife back out of sight.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Just perturbed that you won't leave my business alone." Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but he ran right over his words. "I don't care if you love me; just leave well enough alone."

"Then what can I know! Everything about you, Lovino, seems off limits! What can I know—what can I love if you don't tell me anything! Why don't you let yourself trust me?" Arthur yelled after him as he walked stiffly from the library, not daring to look back for fear Arthur would be able to see pass his mask of scorn what he was trying so desperately to keep hidden. He wanted to trust Arthur, he really did, but he knew too well what trust does: trust gets you betrayed. It'd be even worse if he ever allowed himself to love Arthur.

Love makes you weak.

Love makes you blind.

Love is the drug that muddles your mind.

He went back to the kitchen to make breakfast for Feliciano and Arthur, although he hoped the blond wouldn't show up with his emotions still twisting and tangling inside him. Lovino set to work making the day's bread and brewing some coffee, trying to block out Arthur's pleading shouts and the echoes of his nightmare, but they bounced and clashed together in his mind, confusing and exhausting him. He'd just begun cutting vegetables for the soup he planned to make for lunch, when two arms wrap around his midsection and a head rest on his shoulder.

"You were awfully unfair to him," Feliciano spoke in soft Italian.

"I know," he said just as softly. "I was mad..."

"You were tossing in your sleep and you screamed. Bad dreams again?"

"Sorry if I woke you."

"Lovino..."

"Yes, it was a bad dream. Leave it alone, Feliciano."

"But it's hurting you, and it's hurting Arthur. I don't like to see you in pain..."

"I'm not in pain."

"You cannot lie to me, brother." Feliciano's arms tightened around him.

"I'm just tired, do not worry. It's just exhaustion." He set down the cutting knife and turned to embrace his brother.

Feliciano held on to him tightly. "You cannot blame him for wanting to know more about you. He loves you."

"I know...and I don't blame him."

"You keep so much from him, brother. You keep so much from everyone; it worries me. I can't tell what you're thinking anymore."

He stroked Feliciano's hair. "Something just aren't meant to be known. You'll understand when you're older."

"You're only two years older than me. What more is there to understand?" Feliciano pouted.

"But you're still my little brother and you're still young." Lovino slowly smiled, ruffling his brother's hair roughly. "There are things you haven't had to face, things you haven't learned."

"Then help me learn and help you. You say you're tired, let me work and take some of the burden from your shoulders," Feliciano pleaded, his innocent eyes staring into his.

"You don't have to—"

"I'm not sick anymore! I can do this!"

He stared at his little brother a long time and Feliciano held his gaze stubbornly. "You're not going to let this go."

"No. I don't want to stay inside and draw while you're outside working so hard. I miss you... Arthur's good company, but he's not you." Feliciano's voice broke and he buried his face in Lovino's chest. "I see even less of you than when I was sick and we lived in the barn..."

"No crying." He tightened his arms around Feliciano and sighed; he never could deny Feliciano anything. "Fine. I have to go to the market today; I'll let you come along."

"Hooray! Thank you!"

"But you have to listen to everything I say. Understand?"

"Yes, captain." Feliciano did a mock salute, unable to keep the smile off his face.

"Good. After the market, I'll take you to the stream and we'll do the laundry. It usually takes a full day for me to do it alone, but together I think we can do it in half that time." Lovino went through things on his to-do list. If they finished the wash quickly, he might be able to finally finish that wall in the pasture; it only needed a few more stones. Perhaps Feliciano could help him there too, but when he looked at his brother, he knew Feliciano wouldn't be able to handle such hard work; he could barely handle it himself.

"You can count on me!"

"Alright. I'll go tell Arthur." Lovino detached himself from Feliciano, finished up the vegetables, dumping them into the waiting pot, and walked to the library. Arthur sat in his usual spot by the tall set of windows, staring out with an unreadable expression.

"It looks different without all the flowers. Feliciano cut the last of them," Arthur said softly, not turning to look at him, and gestured to the bare flowerbeds outside the window.

"We'll plant again come spring." He sat next to the blond. "How's your leg?"

"It hurts less than the rest of my body. Thank you for asking." He could hear the tight politeness in Arthur's voice that he thought the Englishman had dropped after being criticized by him for it so much.

"Maybe you shouldn't get in fights, although Antonio is probably feeling worst than you." He could feel Arthur's eyes on him and the man chuckled.

"You're probably right."

Lovino leaned over and kissed Arthur softly as a silent apology, his hand sliding into Arthur's pocket and removing his money pouch. Arthur didn't seem to notice and happily kissed him back. Before the blond could distract him too much with his greed lips, Lovino pulled back and pressed a kiss to the corner of Arthur's mouth. "I'm going to the market with Feliciano. We'll be back in a few hours."

"Would you like me to come?" Arthur cupped his cheek, tracing his lips softly with his thumb.

"No, I want you to stay here and rest. If you keep fucking up your knee, it'll stay fucked up."

"Such a dirty mouth," Arthur said quietly, a smirk curling up the corners of his mouth. Lovino pressed a hand over the blond's mouth before Arthur could kiss him again.

"None of that. Feliciano is waiting for me."

"Oh, fine," Arthur mumbled, pouting against his hand. "I'll give you some money." Arthur reached into his pocket, finding it empty, and glared at him.

He smiled innocently and removed his hand from Arthur's mouth. "Something wrong, love?"

"You little thief." Arthur chuckled and shook his head. "You already nicked my purse."

"Oh, this one?" Lovino held up the bag and gave it a shake, listening to the clink of money.

"Yes, that one, wanker."

"I'll be back soon." Lovino pressed a soft kiss to the bruises on Arthur cheek, as if to heal them, and stood up.

"Do you mind stopping to see Kiku and asking him if I got any mail?"

"Sure." He turned to leave, but Arthur caught his hand and stopped him.

"About this morning..."

"I have my reasons for keeping things from you. They are selfish reasons for dark answers. I'm sorry... I know it's troublesome, but it's better this way. Please, believe that."

"I just wish you would trust me more..."

Lovino shook his head, pulling his hand from Arthur's grip. "This is the most I've trusted someone, other than my brother. That counts for something." He turned and walked towards the door.

"Be careful," Arthur called softly behind him.

"I always am." He waved a hand over his shoulder and closed the door behind him. "Come on, Feliciano. Time to go."

His brother poked his head around the corner and followed him. Lovino forced Feliciano into a coat borrowed from Arthur (The cold of mid-winter had set down its chilly roots in the ground), even though he didn't plan to wear one himself, and marched him out to the stable.

...

The market was full of noise and chatter, despite the cold weather, as people haggled and bargained with merchants and sales people. Many colors and scents floated around in the brisk air and Lovino's blood flowed faster. He could smell the money passing from hand to hand, and he resisted the temptation to slide his hand into the pocket of some unsuspecting man; he wouldn't steal with Feliciano and his righteous morals right next to him.

"What are we getting?" Feliciano clung to his arm, looking around with barely retained fascination.

"Soap, flour, and cheese. Oh, and we have to see if Arthur has any mail. Maybe we'll even get some chicken for tonight's dinner. What do you think?"

"I like chicken!" His brother smiled sweetly at him. This was one of the first times they had money to spend on things they considered a luxury.

"So do I, but I hate paying for it. Perhaps when it gets warm again, we'll buy chickens and keep them around. You can help me take care of them. Hell, I'll even build them a little house by the stable." Feliciano's optimistic disposition was wearing off on him. He was actually beginning to believe there might be a future for them with Arthur, and perhaps there was.

"That's a great idea, but shouldn't we talk to Arthur about it? This is his money we're spending."

He waved a hand and nodded, stepping in front of the miller's stand. "Ciao. What's today's prices?"

"Fifteen lire for a sack." The old man eyed him warily.

"That's fucking murder! Six lire."

"Ten lire and no less, you stingy brat." The man set a bag in front of him.

"Fine, you old crook." Lovino threw a few coins on the table and took the sack of flour, stowing it away in his bag. He walked away, dragging Feliciano behind him.

"Why'd you agree on ten?" Feliciano asked, his ignorance showing plainly.

"That old bastard has to make some kind of money, he has a bitter old croon of a wife and three lazy kids to support, and ten lire is a fair price for a bag of that size. I know there are people who will pay his asking price without much protest."

"Then why not fifteen?"

"Because the old fart might get greedy that way."

"Oh..." He could tell Feliciano didn't really understand. "Do you think it will snow today?"

"I hope not. I don't feel like freezing my fingers off just to do the damn laundry. I can't put it off any longer, all my other shirts and trousers are covered in mud." He glanced at the gray clouds apprehensively. Now he really did wish he owned a coat. Lovino led Feliciano into the next shop.

Lili looked up at the sound of the door chime and smiled brightly. "Guten Morgen! It's nice to see you again, Romano."

He smiled back, but Lovino could feel Feliciano's eyes burning a hole into his back. "Ciao, bella. How are you today?"

"I'm wonderful. Who is that behind you?"

"Meet my little brother, Veneziano," he said before Feliciano could reply.

"Buongiorno, bella." Feliciano smiled hesitantly.

"Hallo. My name is Lili. I didn't know Romano had a brother. It's nice to meet you," she said and smiled in her gentle way at his brother.

"Is Vash here?" Lovino glanced around.

"No, he went out. But I can help you if you need anything."

"A round of cheese." He started putting coins on the counter when a small, pale hand covered his.

"Five lire and...a kiss." Lili blushed shyly and looked away.

"Anything for a beautiful girl." Lovino cupped her cheek softly and pressed his lips to hers. More like anything for a cheap price, he thought bitterly. He pulled away and smiled, feeling sick for preying on this girl's naive kindness.

"Thank you." She took the coins and handed him a round of cheese. "Come back soon."

"I will." He walked out, trying to ignore Feliciano's accusing stare.

"Why did you kiss her? Why did you lie to her about our names?" Feliciano assaulted him with questions. "What about Arthur? Are you seeing her—"

"Stop it. I kissed her, because I wanted a cheaper price. She means nothing to me. I lied to her, because I don't need any love struck girlies getting in my way. And no, I am not fucking seeing her."

"But it isn't right, fratello!"

"Lower your voice." He pulled Feliciano into an alley. "Listen, a lot of the things I do aren't right. I lie; I cheat; I steal; all as means of survival. That is what kept us alive when you got sick, and I'll be damned if I let you scold me for it!"

"I'm...I'm sorry, Lovi." Tears slipped from his brother's guilt-filled eyes and down his cheeks.

"Don't cry..." He sighed and hugged Feliciano tightly. "I'm sorry."

"I wish you didn't have to do those things... Grandpa wouldn't want this."

"He's the one that taught me to do this," he whispered, almost too quietly for even him to hear.

"What?" Feliciano stared up at him, rubbing his nose.

"Nothing." He wiped away Feliciano's tears with his sleeve. "Come on, we still have more things to get." Lovino took his brother's hand and led him out into the crowds again. Feliciano clutched his hand and followed him silently.

Kiku's bookstore stood across from the butcher's shop and Lovino nudged his brother towards the safety of the bookstore. The butcher shop sold soap as a secondary product, because the butcher's partner made soap out of left over animal fat. If they weren't in need of soap so badly, Lovino wouldn't go anywhere near the shop that smelled of death. He could only hope the masked man wouldn't give him trouble.

"Fratello," Feliciano whispered fearfully, holding him back when he turned to go to the other shop. "Why are you going that way?"

"They sell soap there, but I need you to listen to me." Lovino gave his brother a push towards Kiku's store and handed him the bag holding the flour and cheese. "I need you to go check for Arthur's mail and wait for me. If I don't come out, you need to go down this street and take the fourth left. Go down the alley and knock on the first door. There is a man there who will help you, just tell him you're my brother."

"But what if something happens, I can't just leave you!" His brother planted his feet on the ground and looked like he was going to put up a fight if he pushed him towards the bookstore again.

"You said you would do as I say, now go get Arthur's mail." Lovino gave Feliciano a hard stare and his brother reluctantly backed down. "Do you remember the directions?"

Feliciano nodded in defeat, clutching the bag in a white-knuckle grip.

"Stay in the store and stay safe." Lovino turned away and set off to the shop. He opened the door, setting off the bell above it, and stepped inside.

The man at the counter looked up, a lascivious smirk spreading across his mouth as he leered at him. "Hello. You're a lovely sight." Through the mask, two dark eyes ran up and down his body. It made him feel dirty to be looked at in such a depraved way.

"I came to buy five bars of soap." Lovino didn't plan on coming back for a long time.

"Are you sure that's the only thing you came for?" The man came out from behind the counter and stalked towards him.

"Y-Yes. You stay away and just get me my fucking soap!" Lovino backed away, sliding his hand into easy reach of his blade. He knew it had been a stupid idea to come here, even if it was out of necessity.

"Are you still running with that foreigner, beautiful? Do I finally get my turn?" The man reached out to touch him and reflex kicked in, slipping the blade free and slicing the blood-stained hand before his conscious mind knew what he was doing. "You little bitch!"

A fist caught him across the face and sent Lovino sprawling to the floor. He was up on his feet, fighting to keep the stars in his eyes from blinding him. The hit left his head spinning and he could feel his cheek beginning to swell. That was sloppy. You should have seen that coming, the echo of his grandfather's voice scolded him. Get a hold of yourself and forget your fear and pain! Lovino slipped into his fighting stance, holding his blade parallel to his arm. "You got your filthy blood all over my knife."

"You're going to pay for that," the man growled, clutching his hand to his chest.

"Sadqi! What's all that noise?" A sleep-eyed man came out from the back, yawning tiredly. "Oh, a customer— Are you bleeding?"

"No," Sadqi snapped. "Just some meat blood. This is your customer, Heracles."

Lovino slipped the knife back into the folds of his clothes. "Can I just get some fucking soap?"

"Oh... How much?" Heracles watched Sadqi retreat into the back room. "Nevermind, you don't have to pay."

"But—"

"Have six bars." Heracles piled the bars into his trembling hands. "Have a good day."

He tried to balance the bars, but the shaking spreading throughout his body almost made him drop them. "Thanks, I guess. Goodbye." Lovino quickly walked out, looking back and spotting Sadqi staring at him darkly before he shut the door.

Feliciano ran to him and took the bars of soap. "Are you oaky? Your cheek is swelling!" His brother raised his hand to touch his cheek, but Lovino instinctively caught Feliciano's wrist before he could touch him.

"I'm fine."

"Fratello, you're hurting me," Feliciano stammered out, frightened by Lovino's painfully tight grip and his frozen expression.

"Sorry." He let go of Feliciano and took the bag from him. "Let's go home."

His brother nodded timidly, walking beside him silently. Lovino couldn't relieve his paranoia, leaving him jumpy and shifty. He watched every shadow and movement around him, like if he looked away, something would appear just to harm him. Even on the ride back to Arthur's estate, he didn't stop watching the shadows for enemies that weren't there. Lovino felt tense and couldn't convince himself he was safe.

I'm getting weak. Have I already forgotten the skills I fought to learn. He berated himself for allowing himself to fall so low. A few years ago, a man like Sadqi wouldn't have even been able to touch him before his blade either killed them or mortally wounded them. I need to start training again. The level I've fallen to is bullshit. Grandpa trained me better than this. I can't protect anyone if I can't even protect myself. I can't let this be, they might call me back into service again.

Ohhh, Sadqi is back causing trouble. Lovi better watch out. Haha... That's not funny, but oaky. The story should be coming to an end soon. I'm not saying in the next two or three chapters, but...soon. Like, maybe five chapters.

-Windy