Two weeks after his birthday, Feliciano was sitting in Ludwig's room yet again. They were studying, their books spread across the bed haphazardly. Even though he should have been immersing himself in historical key terms and math formulas, the dull ache in Feliciano's stomach was distracting him. Lovino still hadn't called him or acknowledged his seventeenth birthday in any way. He'd checked the mail everyday for cards, checked his voicemail for message religiously and always came up with nothing.

It was true that Feliciano was usually the one to call first, but he didn't want to do that this time. He tried to tell himself that it was okay, Lovino was probably busy with college, it's probably been bothering him too, but his rationalizations never held water. He found it very hard to believe that someone could be so busy they couldn't spare five minutes to wish their own sibling a happy birthday.

Ludwig must have sensed that something was wrong. He set his pencil down and looked at him. "Are you alright?"

Feliciano sighed. "My brother forgot about my birthday." He said. "It's been two weeks and he hasn't called."

Ludwig nodded. "I see. This upsets you." He stated.

"Yeah, it does…" Feliciano was about to launch into an explanation but decided not to bother. It didn't take a rocket scientist to notice the space growing between him and his brother. He wished he could see him again, live with him again, but at this specific point in time it wasn't possible. In reality, Feliciano wasn't sure if it would ever be possible again. After college, Lovino would be getting ready to start a life of his own. Not long after, Feliciano would be starting a life of his own. And that terrified him.

Ludwig placed his hand on Feliciano's shoulder. "I'm sure he'll pull through."

"I hope so." Feliciano said. Since there was nothing else he could do, he decided to be optimistic and finally managed a smile. "Yeah, he will! Let's keep studying then."

So they did, Feliciano feeling just slightly better while he poured over textbooks. After awhile, he caught himself glancing off the page to look at Ludwig. It sure was hard to concentrate when he was there, looking so perfect in the late afternoon sun. His blonde hair seemed to glisten in the light coming through the windows, his too-tight shirt forever clinging to his sculpted torso. Feliciano lost interest in studying. He closed the textbook with conviction, willing Ludwig to notice.

And he did notice, looking up from the page he was staring at to meet his eyes. "Is something wrong?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Feliciano smiled. "Nope."

Ludwig appeared confused. Feliciano erased his confusion when without warning he all but pounced on him like a cat in heat. Ludwig's cheeks immediately darkened. "I'm bored," said Feliciano. "Let's have fun, Ludwig, please?"

Ludwig knew he couldn't say no to him. Without uttering another word, he forgot about the books that sat in front of him and pulled Feliciano close. They kissed, and within seconds the schoolwork was instantly forgotten. Feliciano heard what sounded like a car in the driveway. He figured it must be Gilbert, either coming back from some party or leaving for one. He was too busy with Ludwig to care. His heart beat with a familiar quickness and an undying affection. Ludwig gripped his waist like he was scared to let go. Everything was perfect for a few minutes.

Then the door opened.

Ludwig's eyes shot open and without warning he pushed Feliciano off of him, who landed on the space on the bed next to them. Feliciano sat up, looking at him with utter confusion. For a minute he was sure it was Gilbert. There was no one else in the house after all; at least that's what he'd come to believe. He didn't bother to look at the door, or out the window, or anywhere beyond Ludwig's face, not having time to think what was going on. After a minute of confusing silence, Ludwig spoke in what was the smallest voice Feliciano had ever heard him use.

"Dad?"

Feliciano's head whipped around. The person at the door was not Gilbert. It wasn't a person he'd ever seen before, and by the looks of him, someone he never wanted to know. This man was massive, even more so than Ludwig. He had the same blue eyes, the small blonde hair, but there was something about his stance and his expression that made him much, much different than Ludwig. It was something that Feliciano could not place; yet sent him into a tizzy of unease.

There was a moment of terrible, tense silence. No one dared to breathe. Ludwig hadn't told Feliciano much about his father, but looking at him was enough that he didn't have to. Before Feliciano even had time to think, the very earth around them broke into pieces.

"Ludwig, what the hell is this?" He said. His teeth were clenched so tightly it looked like they might shatter. His German accent was much heavier than Ludwig's, making his English words nearly impossible to decipher. His voice was naturally loud and on the brink of shouting, causing it to boom throughout the small room.

Ludwig scrambled into a sitting position. "Why are you here?" Panic rose in his voice. "You've been in Germany for months, I never thought…"

His father cut him off. "Was Gilbert too much of an idiot to tell you? I told him I would be in town his week." He took a few steps into the room. "Looks like I picked the perfect time to come."

Feliciano's blood had run cold. All he could do was sit on the bed in stunned silence, too afraid to move, too afraid to blink, to breathe. The man's shouting sent fear through his heart. Nothing had even happened, but the overpowering sense of impending doom was enough to stop his heart. One thing was painfully clear: Ludwig's father did not approve. He gripped the blanket in both his hands, waiting.

As if Gilbert was responding to a call, he tore up the steps as soon as his name was spoken. His usual calm, arrogant demeanor had vanished from his face. He stood outside the doorway, frozen in place, a couple of feet away from his father. Feliciano could barely make it out, but he swore he could see his lips mouthing out "I'm sorry."

Ludwig had the expression of a child lost in a mall. "Dad, everything is okay, I…"

The man didn't even seem to notice Ludwig's words. He turned to Gilbert in one violent, jerking motion. "Why didn't you tell me about this?" He yelled, his cheeks turning red. "My own son is a fucking faggot and you didn't bother to tell me!"

"Don't call him that!" Gilbert yelled back, a snarl appearing on his face. He stormed forward until he was right in his father's face. "Why the hell do you think I didn't tell you? Do you think I was going to throw him under the bus like that?"

"Get back, Gilbert. This isn't of your concern." The volume of his voice had flipped from a yell to barely a whisper. Somehow, it was just as terrifying- maybe even more so.

He whipped back in the other direction and took a series of menacing steps towards the bed. "Who the hell is this?" He spat the words, pointing an angry finger towards Feliciano. Feliciano did what he could to writhe away from him, which resulted in shoving his body almost completely against the wall. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a rabid animal against the side of a cage.

Ludwig was standing now, less than a foot of space between him and his father. "His name is Feliciano." He said, a slight quiver in his voice. "He is my friend."

"Quatsch!" He yelled, his face turning red. "I am not blind, Ludwig! How long has this… this abomination been going on?"

Ludwig said nothing. He only stood there, frozen in fear, the color having drained from his face. Feliciano sat helplessly on the bed and fought the feelings of lightheadedness that made him think he would faint. He had never seen Ludwig so terrified, so helpless. He was watching a family crumble in front of his eyes. One thing Ludwig had said came to mind. My father is very religious…

Ludwig's father, having lost patience, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him towards him in a violent lurch. "Answer me!"

"About two months!"

The world stood still. After two seconds that felt like two lifetimes, Ludwig was thrown against the closet door, hitting it with a sickening crash. "You'll burn in hell!" He screamed. "You're disgusting!" He walked towards Ludwig, his face so red it looked like it would combust at any second.

Ludwig made no effort to stand up, to fight back. Feliciano could only scream as he looked at his face and nearly collapsed. He was crushed under the weight of his fear that was doubling every second. Ludwig looked absolutely panicked; his eyes wide like a deer in the headlights and his mouth hanging open.

Gilbert flew into the room with a battle cry etched into his face. "For the love of god, he's your son!" He made an effort to grab his father's arms. His efforts were only met by a shift shove that knocked him a few steps back. His expression changed from determined to helpless in a split second. "Please!"

Their father didn't even flinch at his son's begging. He only turned to Ludwig again, his face twisted in the purest rage Feliciano had ever seen. He yanked him up by the shirt, his fist shaking. "You are not my son." His voice was low and borderline demonic. With that he punched him square in the jaw with his free hand. A sickening crack filled the room as Ludwig fell back to the ground.

This was not reality. Reality couldn't possibly be this cruel. Feliciano cried out again, hot tears now streaming down his face. Without thinking and pulsing with adrenaline he threw himself between them, holding his hands in front of him like that alone would stop the monstrous man from hurting Ludwig any further. "Don't hurt him." He said, his voice small and shaking. "I'll do anything! Just please stop hurting him, please!" In that moment, Feliciano did not care if that man killed him. He would do anything to get him away from Ludwig.

The man scoffed humorlessly. "So you're the one who ruined my son?" He inched towards Feliciano with nothing but hatred and disgust in his eyes.

Feliciano felt his blood boil, the adrenaline surging through every part of him. He backed up in a sad attempt to guard Ludwig with his frail body. Ludwig gripped the edge of his shirt like a child as if to beg Feliciano to get himself away from the situation. Feliciano knew he couldn't do that. Ludwig had protected him in the past. Now it was his turn.

"I love Ludwig!" Feliciano's quivering voice rose with every word. "If your god has a problem with that, he's not a god worth worshiping at all! He's nothing more than a bully!"

Feliciano didn't even feel it when the man's open hand made sharp contact with his cheek. He barely realized when the force sent him reeling backwards and he crashed against the nightstand. The man's words sounded like nothing more than a jumble of sounds. "You're not only a disgusting faggot, but a blasphemer!"

Gilbert raced to where he had landed. It was clear that he was panicking. He acted as if he didn't know how to use his body. He got on one knee and made a desperate attempt to pull both Ludwig and Feliciano up and away from the violence that was his father, mumbling incoherently, as if that would somehow work. His attempt was futile, however, when his much larger father simply elbowed him the chest and sent him staggering backwards.

The man didn't waste any time getting back to Ludwig. He shoved him against the wall and caused his head to bang into it. It sounded like a gunshot. Feliciano was sobbing now, screaming in agony as if he were the one being beaten. His heart fell like it was being ripped from his chest, crushed under the realization that he wasn't stronger than this man. Any attempts at stopping him would only make him angrier, nothing he could possibly do would pry him off of Ludwig. He clapped his hand against his pocket and came to the devastating understanding that he had left his phone at home.

Feliciano spoke instinctually. "Call 911, Gilbert!"

"I'll have your head if you do!" Gilbert ignored his father's words, jumped to his feet and flew towards the phone in the kitchen. The man then turned to Feliciano with Ludwig in a death grip. "Get the hell away from him! You've turned him into a dirty fucking sinner!"

Feliciano felt the walls closing in on him. That telltale feeling of confusion and overwhelming fear wrapped around him like a snake and squeezed the air from his lungs. No. Not right now. It can't happen right now… His breathing sped up to a terrifying rate, and he realized he could not stop the attack from happening. But that did not matter. His heart could have exploded in his chest and he wouldn't have noticed. He was a fingernail's width from losing consciousness, but he was barely aware of the dizzying sensation. All he could concentrate on was the man's hand moving to Ludwig's neck.

"Stop…" Feliciano's voice had been stolen from him. "Oh god, please…"

"GET OUT!"

Ludwig brought his hand to his father's and used every ounce of his strength to try and pull his hands away from his neck. He looked at Feliciano, his blue eyes bloodshot and wide with fear, his mouth open and desperate to form words. "Feliciano…run…" His voice sounding like it was far in the distance. "Please…run…"

Feliciano's eyes widened. No, he couldn't run. Ludwig hadn't run away from those boys the first day they met, the boy at his locker, anything or anyone. Ludwig needed him now. Feliciano shook his head vigorously as the room spun in circles around him. Ludwig's face had the slightest hint of blue now. He did not struggle, or even move, or do anything that suggested he was still alive. The room was too quiet. For some sick, twisted reason, the quiet caused it to borderline on calm. His chest rose and fell violently as slight purple bruises bloomed around his father's fingers. Gilbert's rushed voice could be heard from the kitchen, his words fast and loud and he yelled at the 911 operators.

The room broke into pieces- sounds Feliciano could not place, emotions he could barely feel. Unsure what options he had left, he made another desperate attempt at speaking. There were a million things he could have said; yet no words could escape his mouth. He ended up making a sound that sounded more like a strangled squeal that he did not hear as the room turned on its side. This was a nightmare, it had to be, nothing this terrible could happen to Ludwig, not to Ludwig…

Ludwig's father didn't hit Feliciano this time, only looked at him with wild eyes and a clenched jaw. Feliciano felt a weight on his chest. His head spun like it never had before, nothing felt real, and the ground was about to split beneath him. Feliciano could not see anything anymore. Had the sky fallen, had the world already ended?

He realized there was nothing else he could do.

So he ran.

On legs that were not his, Feliciano pried himself off the floor and tore out of the room, down the hallway and down the steps. Feliciano froze as he watched Gilbert run back into Ludwig's bedroom. There was a series of clattering sound, things smashing and a barrage of shouting in German. Through the ruckus Feliciano could make out some of what Gilbert was saying, his English clear as day.

"You're going to kill him, dad!"

The pain became too much, and Feliciano reached his breaking point. He swung the door open and ran outside, the late afternoon sun shining in his eyes like a flashlight. He didn't stop for a second. Not when police sirens zooming towards Ludwig's house passed him, not when the police officers stormed through the door he had left open, their gun holsters banging against their sides. He only ran, ran and screamed like he wanted his throat to rip open, down the sidewalk and across streets and lawns until he finally reached his own house.

As soon as he opened the door he collapsed onto the floor. He was screaming at the top of his lungs like someone had tightened an iron vice around his lungs, his throat, suffocating him. He was being thrown under water with an anvil tied to each of his ankles. Feliciano willed for god to kill him, the vile, wretched god that Ludwig's father got his ideals from. He was dying, drowning, suffocating, chocking, being buried alive.

His stomach lurched like it was trying to turn itself inside out. He managed to make his way to the bathroom, all while feeling like he was fighting his way through glass. Immediately upon reaching the bathroom he got sick. Afterwards he sunk to the cold, most likely dirty tile floor. He had no tears left to cry, no screams left to scream.

I have to go back. He thought as he wiped his mouth haphazardly with his sleeve. "I have to go back!" He said it out-loud this time and balled his hands into fists. His mind was a tangled mess of conflicting thoughts. Ludwig needed him. No, he didn't need him. Feliciano closed his eyes, the last tears he had spilling from his eyes. He was useless. Nothing he said or did could help him. He couldn't even pry his father off of him, and then he ran like a coward. His head pounded like a jackhammer against an old sidewalk. The image of Ludwig's pleading, helpless eyes was burned in his thoughts; the eyes that Feliciano wasn't able to save.

I'm so useless. Useless useless useless useless. The word shot around in his head until it was nothing more than a jumble of sounds, sounds that hit him like bullets and smacked him like fists. The word beat at him until his vision doubled, then blurred, then grew edged in black before one final word escaped his lips.

"Ludwig…"

Right after he said it, the darkness overtook him.

Important Notes

*Quatsch- German, means something similar to "bullshit."

*Ludwig's father is not Germania or any other canon character. He is a plot device.

To be continued...