Author's note: WARNING, This chapter may be very triggering to some. If you wish to know exactly what those triggers will be, read the paragraph under this. If you wish to read on at your own risk, skip it. Although I bet plenty of you have figured it out already.

This chapter contains self harm in the form of an attempted suicide. While the actual event is not described, the aftermath of it is described pretty graphically. Please stay safe everyone.

Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. (Peter 5:7)

Lovino acted long before he thought. Before he even realized he had moved from his bed, he was knocking on Feliciano's door with every ounce of power he had. The sound echoed in his ears like gunshots and his heart beat frantically like the wings of a startled bird. He mind ran over the possibilities in a nanosecond. The best-case scenario would be that he looked ridiculous because he had completely misunderstood. The worst-case scenario was something he couldn't even bring himself to consider.

Feliciano threw open the door after what seemed like an eternity. "Lovino! It's so late, what's wrong?" Then his eyes shot open. "Mio dio, Lovi, your face is so white, are y-"

There was no time for this. "Ludwig's brother knows Antonio, right?" His words came out so quickly he could barely be understood.

Feliciano's face went blank. "Um, yes, but-"

"Call him. Call him right now and ask for Antonio's address."

"Calm down, Lovino!" Feliciano grabbed Lovino's shoulders. "You aren't making any sense! Why do you need his address at three in the morning?"

"Feliciano." Lovino looked at him with wild eyes. His veins were filled with adrenaline that felt like lightening. "I'll do whatever you want for the rest of your life, I promise I'll explain later, but I really, really need you to do this for me. Please, Feli, please, please…"

"Okay, okay! Just breathe, Lovi! You look like you're about to pass out!"

Lovino tried to do as he was told as Feliciano called Ludwig, who apparently woke up a very disgruntled Gilbert. Every second that passed felt like a million years. The excruciating wait was finally over when Feliciano rambled off an address, which Lovino wrote directly on his arm. Through his all-consuming terror, he realized that he knew that street. If he ran like there was no tomorrow, it would only take him about five minutes. "Okay," he said the second he finished writing. "I have to go."

Feliciano grabbed his arm. "Lovino, what's going on? Please tell me, Lovino, oh my god, you're scaring me!"

Lovino ripped his arm away. As much as it hurt him to leave his brother in this state, there was simply no time for explanations. "I'll explain later. I promise."

Without turning back, he ran out of the room, down the hallway and out the front door. For whatever cruel reason, it was snowing. Lovino didn't notice the cold as his bare feet slammed against the pavement. He ran faster than he had ever run in his life, only partially aware that the horrible conclusion he had come to could have already ruined things beyond repair. This thought only prompted him to run faster. A scream he didn't hear ripped through his throat, an unsuccessful attempt to alleviate the crushing fear pushing down on him. His breathing grew more labored, but he did not stop running. He couldn't stop. During this time, he thought only of his goal: To get to Antonio's house. Because dammit, he would get there if it killed him.

His legs felt like they would fall off by the time he reached the house that was supposedly Antonio's. He bolted up the front steps and grasped the doorknob, realizing with another jolt of fear that it might be locked. Shit, shit, shit, what would he do then? He hadn't thought this far ahead. He hadn't thought at all. His hands trembled from both the fear and the cold even though he barely felt either of them, and it took every ounce of control he had to even attempt to turn it. It was locked. Of course it was locked, why wouldn't it be? Lovino's stomach filled with rocks and slammed into his feet.

It must have been adrenaline, because before Lovino even realized he had made the decision to do it, he raised his leg and kicked his foot into the door. It must have been old wood, because it swung open with a loud creak. Maybe it was the grace of God. A very temporary rush of relief rushed through him in a current before it was replaced by even more pulsing adrenaline. He tore into the house and prayed with all his heart that his assumption had been far, far off the mark. "Antonio!"

No answer. Then, he saw something that might as well been a signal from God: Light coming from a room upstairs. He ran up the steps, still not completely sure what he was doing, still feeling as if he was moving through a thick fog. The next twenty seconds seemed to pass in slow motion that his mind refused to register. When he threw open the door to what he quickly saw was a bathroom, he finally found Antonio. He was lying fully clothed in a bathtub that held no water, which Lovino found strange.

It was not until a moment later that he noticed the blood.

'I attempted to take my own life…'

Time screeched to an abrupt halt. It was as if someone muted the world, stole reality, and turned Lovino's blood to ice. He would have screamed if the air hadn't been taken from his lungs. Something in his mind still was not clicking. Blood everywhere, a lifeless Antonio… This was without a doubt the worst thing he had ever seen in this life, so why was he not falling to the floor? Why was the world not ending? He held his head in his hands, his vision tunneling around him and his throat closing. God… was it already too late? No, it could not end like this, not like this… "Mio dio, Antonio, no, no, no…"

To Lovino's enormous relief, Antonio spoke. "Lo-Lovi…" His eyes were sleepy and his voice was strained. He was not dead. He was not dead, but he was getting there. Lovino realized with what felt like a bolt of lightening to the heart that he had two choices: think and act faster than the speed of light, or lose Antonio. It took much less than a millisecond to choose the former.

In one frantic movement, Lovino grabbed the towels sitting on the sink, fell to his knees and began to tie them around Antonio's sliced arm to stop the bleeding. God, there was so much blood, it wasn't stopping, it was everywhere… "Why, Antonio, why…" Lovino's words quickly faded into an incoherent mess of both English and Italian. He could only get out one more tangible sentence. "Speak to me, Antonio!"

"How…" Antonio mumbled something in Spanish and went silent. His eyes were already glossed over, and they finally fell closed.

If Antonio fell asleep, Lovino was certain he would not wake up again. He choked back both a sob and a scream. This was not the time for panic. This was time for action. "Open your eyes!" He finished tying the towels and held onto them with as much pressure as he could possibly muster, the entire act feeling like something he was watching from far away. Antonio didn't obey the command. "Goddammit, if you don't open your damn eyes I swear to God I'll punch you in the face!"

It looked as though it took every bit of Antonio's remaining strength to open his eyes. Lovino cheered internally at the small victory, then instantly realized he was far from being out of the woods. "Stay," he commanded, as if Antonio was in any place to go anywhere else. Lovino snatched Antonio's good arm and forced his hand to hold the makeshift gauze, as if that would do anything at all. It felt like moving a ragdoll.

Lovino tore down the stairs again, his eyes flickering desperately in search of a phone. He spotted a landline attached to the wall and nearly jumped for joy, but there was no time or reason for celebration. He took it from the wall and went back upstairs, dialing 911 as he ran. After what seemed like a dark, lifeless eternity, Lovino made it back the bathroom. To his relief, Antonio had managed to keep his eyes open. "Just hold on, Antonio. You're going to be fine, everything is going to be fine, just fine!" Lovino said the words in a hysterical jumble. He knew all too well that he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

He held the phone to his ear and spoke in a way that was no clearer. "Hello, yes, my friend attempted suicide- dammit, don't fucking tell me to calm down! Christ, he's going to die, just please help, we're in the up stairs bathroom, hurry, please…" Lovino quickly rambled off the address still written on his arm and simply dropped the phone.

Once the mad rush was over and there was nothing left to do but wait, something in his mind clicked. Every laugh, every smile and every word Antonio had spoken passed before his eyes in a slideshow of regret. It was exactly like people described their lives flashing before their eyes before death- because if Antonio died, a large part of Lovino would, too. It felt like standing under a waterfall when in a flash, it became explicitly clear just how much Antonio meant to him. He was everything. He was Lovino's entire world, and he had a space in his heart that no on else could ever occupy. Now that it was painfully, powerfully, overwhelmingly clear, it might be too late. Lovino could not breathe anymore. He began to feel as if he were drowning, his lungs burning in their desperate search for air. For a brief moment, he was certain that he himself would die from the pain.

It seems like there are always stories in the news talking about some five-foot two, one hundred and ten pound woman that somehow managed to push a car off of her child through adrenaline alone. Lovino never believed those stories- not until he managed to hoist Antonio out of the bathtub like he weighed nothing more than a pillow. "Antonio…" Reality came crashing down like a falling building upon hearing himself say his name, his voice broke, and a powerful anguish tore through his body in the form of a scream that nearly ripped his throat in half.

Once Lovino looked into the lifeless green eyes that once held so much joy, he finally allowed himself to break.

"You said you wouldn't do this again! Dammit, shit, how could you?" His cries cut through the air, and his hand flew unthinkingly to Antonio's chest. There was still a heartbeat, and it was about the best thing Lovino had ever felt. "Dammit, Antonio, how could you do this? Why would you do this?" Lovino realized that he had both everything and nothing to lose. This could be his last chance to say what he had wanted to for so long. "I love you! For the love of God, I love you, you're all I have, for the love of Christ, don't leave me, Antonio, please…" The room was spinning like the inside of a blender. Lovino could barely cling to consciousness.

Antonio's eyes opened wider than he was able to manage before. In a slow, weak movement, he moved his uninjured arm to his chest and laid his hand over Lovino's. His voice was so weak, it sounded as though it would shatter like glass at any moment. "I love you…" Antonio was barely breathing. His arm absolutely refused to stop bleeding. Lovino had never seen this much blood in his life- it was as if someone had spilled a can of red paint on both of them. Antonio finished speaking in a weak breath. "…So much, mi Corazon, mi Lovi…"

"Goddammit!" That was the last thing Lovino could say before he was sobbing too hard to speak. He closed his eyes, held Antonio's arm to his chest in yet another attempt to stop the bleeding, and collapsed against him. He was a mess of gasping breath, of pure despair and unbridled panic. A huge part of him told him that he could have prevented this, if only he hadn't been so damn selfish. This was his fault. All of this was his fault, and he knew it. If this world had to somehow go on without the dazzling light that was Antonio, the blame would rest completely on his shoulders.

Lovino barely heard the sirens outside. When the paramedics tore up the stairs, he didn't hear a word they said. He screamed without realizing it when they took Antonio from him, shouting orders at each other that could not be understood, orders that could save his life. At one point, he was vaguely sure they asked if he wanted to go in the ambulance with them. But he could not respond; could not remember how to form the words. Instead of saying a thing, Lovino got off the bloodstained bathroom floor and ran.

Lovino did not realize he was running until he was halfway home. He was not even sure why he was. Every reasonable part of his brain screamed incessantly for him to go back, but he did not obey. He couldn't. The snow outside continued to fall, the cold continued to seem like nothing. He ran from himself, from the situation, from everything. He wished with all this might that he would somehow run out of this dimension. But the cruel world refused to end, and he eventually ended up back home.

Feliciano was pacing the kitchen, his expression a strange cross between terror and downright confusion. When he saw Lovino- his screaming, crying, bloody mess of a brother- he yelped. "You're covered in blood!" He ran towards Lovino, grasped his shaking hands and looked at him in a panic. He continued to shout questions that Lovino could not find the strength to answer, questions he scarcely heard, for what seemed like a very long time. Feliciano was crying by the time his voice came back into focus. "Answer me, Lovino, PLEASE!"

"Antonio tried to kill himself!" Memory hit like a rouge bullet, and Lovino did something he never did- he fell into Feliciano's arms instead of it being the other way around. The waves of raw panic refused to stop slamming into him without mercy; and he spoke in rambling, disjointed sentences. "I have no idea if he's still alive, he's dying, he died, I don't know, Feliciano. I hate myself. I just hate myself, I ran when the paramedics came, I-" He gasped for the air he desperately needed. It did nothing to stop the burning in his chest. "And I love him, God, I love him and I have no idea if he's alive, Feliciano, help…" Someone please help me.

Feliciano had no time to respond. "What in the hell is going on?" Roma said when he entered the kitchen. It was a miracle it took him this long to wake up. When he took in the catastrophic scene in front of him, he sounded as if he gulped back a gasp. "Lovino? Feliciano? What in the hell-"

Lovino was never so grateful that Feliciano spoke for him. "Grandpa." His voice was distorted from crying. "Antonio tried…he tried to… kill himself."

"It's my fault!" Lovino held Feliciano so tightly he was afraid he would break him. This terrible mix of powerful anxiety, crushing guilt and absolute despair was pulling him down, down, down… "He did this because of what I did to him. I yelled at him, I ignored him, and now he's gone! Dammit, he's gone…"

Feliciano somehow managed to hold him just as tightly. "Lovino, no! He's not gone, and this isn't your fault!" He said it as if he knew. Really, what in the hell did he know? Feliciano had not had to see the stomach-turning, world-ending nightmare Lovino had been staring in the face just moments ago. The image still hit Lovino like a fist whenever he closed his eyes. Go away. Go away…

Roma took a careful step forward. "Lovino." He said it like he was trying not to spook a wild animal. "I have no idea what's happening here, and I'm going to need you to calm down and explain it to me."

Roma's voice had never been more comforting. Lovino felt the suffocating panic finally release its hold on him and give way to a crushing, equally as powerful grief. Through all of the pain, he immediately knew what he had to do. There could be no more hiding and no more lies. Hiding and lies were exactly what had caused all of this. "There's so much to say." Lovino's hands still shook, his heart still beat far too quickly, but he was able to speak. That was all he could realistically hope for. He let go of Feliciano and looked into his bleary eyes. "Feli, I think I'll need your help on this one."

For the next two hours, Roma didn't saw a word. Lovino managed to wind down from his hysteria enough to speak coherently. After some gentle nudging, he managed to convince Feliciano to help tell him the entire story. They sat at kitchen table and started from the very beginning, Lovino jumping in when Feliciano left something out and vice versa. They started from the very first threatening sermon, eventually going into detail about every one they were subjected to.

Lovino eventually got to the time he ran into Antonio in the coffee shop, and explained his scrupulosity to the best of his ability. Feliciano jumped in and explained his panic attacks, and Lovino was forced to admit he hadn't been around to witness them himself. He omitted the incident at the bar- some things were better left unsaid. He explained that this had been Antonio's not first, but second attempt to take his own life, much to Feliciano's shock. Even though it wasn't completely relevant to Antonio, they explained the confession from hell and the retreat that had spiraled into insanity.

After adverting his eyes, Feliciano tearfully admitted why Father O'Brian had slapped him. The details of his relationship with Ludwig could easily be implied. With a flush on his face and a pounding in his chest, Lovino finally explained- albeit as vaguely as possible- that Antonio had kissed him and the misguided reaction it caused. Their relationship, if one could even call it that, was also easily implied.

By the time they were finally finished, the sun was peaking out over the horizon. Roma had tears in his eyes and his hands were balled into fists. There was a long, heavy silence. Finally, he took a shaking breath and spoke. "Boys." He said each word that followed as though they were entire sentences. "Why did you not tell me sooner?"

That was a loaded question if Lovino had ever heard one. Much to his relief, Feliciano somehow managed to simplify it in the best way possible. "It was too hard." He wiped the tears from his eyes for what was probably the tenth time. "Grandpa…are you mad?"

"Not at you." He took another long breath. "But we'll deal with that later. Let me get one thing straight." He turned to Feliciano. "Feli, you've become involved with Ludwig?" Feliciano looked hesitant, but ultimately nodded. Seemingly unfazed, Roma turned to Lovino. "And Lovi, you've become involved with this Antonio?"

Lovino didn't have to energy to be embarrassed. He nodded but quickly realized that might not be true anymore, if it ever was to begin with. It was a complex answer, but he could only give a two-word response. "I guess." There was nothing more to say. He adverted his eyes and waited for the explosion, for the insults and the disgust.

"And these two treat both of you well?"

Both of them nodded. Roma, to both Feliciano and Lovino's surprise, only nodded back in understanding. "Alright."

Feliciano's head snapped up. "You mean…you aren't upset?"

Roma looked almost confused. "No, of course not. Why on earth would I be upset that my grandsons are in love?" A small smile broke out on his lips. "I can't say this is something I expected and I absolutely did not expect to find out like this, but I am absolutely not mad. I am a little sad that you felt as if you couldn't tell me." His smile fell, and soon snapped into a grimace. "But let me tell you, I am going to make that man sorry he ever made you two feel like you needed to hide this. I am so, so sorry I made you two go there. This is not what Catholicism is about."

Lovino felt as if a two-ton boulder was just lifted from his shoulders. The air was clear now. There were no more secrets between them. The relief, however, was short-lived. The fog clouding his mind faded out now that the explaining was over and done with, and he reminder hit like a bucket of ice water: Antonio could be dead. He was barely responsive when Lovino left him; he had lost so much blood…Lovino lost the ability to keep his composure. He lowered his head, covered his face with his hand and cried. He knew he looked stupid, he looked like a child, and he was so damn embarrassed. But he did not care. "Dio…" He managed to say. "God, Antonio…"

Feliciano draped his arm around him. "Lovi, it's okay."

"No." No, nothing would ever be okay again. Everything was ruined, and it was his fault, his fault, his fault… "God, no, it's not okay." Then, Lovino could not speak anymore. He fell against the table, as if he were shoved against it under the weight of his own fear, shame and guilt.

For a long while, no one said a word. All Lovino heard was the sound of two chairs being pushed to a side and a couple seconds of footsteps. All he felt was two pairs of arms wrapping around him. Any other day, he would have pushed them away. His face would have turned red and he would have muttered something about being too old for this. Now, he felt no need to do any of that. Why would he push his family away now- actually, why did he ever do it in the first place? Wanting nothing more than some kind of comfort, he brought his arms up to theirs and returned the messy embrace.

Finally, Feliciano and Roma pulled away, and Lovino finally managed to speak. "So, what the hell do we do now?"

Roma glanced out the window. "Well, I think it's needless to say that school is out of the question." He straightened his posture and spoke with an air of decisiveness. "Now, we go to the hospital."

To be continued...