A/N: Have I mentioned how much I love you guys? Cause I do! I'm so excited that people like this story. And to Dubstepezio, I have to admit that I was waiting for someone to say something like that. I don't want to offend anyone that has had experience with brain damage, of course, and if I put in anything offensive or just plain stupid or wrong about it, you guys can tell me and I'll take it down.
And to kitty132383, I might do a bonus chapter about the two! This is my first time adding Fruk to a story, hehe, so it may not turn out well but if you want me to I will!
And also, I want to let everyone know that if you have any ideas for this story I'll be glad to try and fit them in! And yes, Book Thief101, I'll be adding the haircut scene in the next chapter.
Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia
Lovino took an immediate distaste to the man currently standing in front of him. He couldn't quite pinpoint why, but there was something about his perfectly slicked back, blonde hair, his cool blue eyes that gave off the feeling of control, and strong pose that radiated authority that got under his skin and made him want to yell at the man for no apparent reason. Said man was currently wearing a black, muscle t-shirt with the physical therapy company's name on it and loose, army green cargo pants. The company's name was written in large, rather intimidating white block letters, all capitals; 'HARTMANN CENTER FOR PHYSICAL HEALTH AND HEALING'.
Lovino had no idea who 'Hartmann' was, probably the owner of the damn place. Underneath was the logo, and Lovino couldn't help but roll his eyes when he read it. 'Working hard so you can work hard again'. How lovely.
"Are you with Mr. Carriedo?" A stiff, clipped voice with a heavy German accent broke through Lovino's thoughts, and he nodded, narrowing his eyes at the blonde. "You're late," the blonde added in an irritated tone under his breath. Lovino didn't respond to his comment and instead met the man's steady gaze. The man seemed to stare at him for longer that he should, the ice blue eyes showing confusion.
"Are you going to fucking stare at me or are we going to get a move on?" Lovino finally snapped. Behind him he heard the automatic doors slide open and the sounds of Francis pushing a wheelchair over the carpeted foyer. The man gave Lovino one last confused glance but then nodded stiffly.
"I'm Ludwig. I'll be Mr. Carriedo's therapist. I hope he doesn't mind, but we'll be working with another patient at the same time," he said as he turned to Francis, who had just wheeled Antonio up to the duo.
Seeing Ludwig open his mouth again, no doubt to introduce himself to Francis and tell him the same shit he had told to Lovino, the Italian quickly spoke before he could. "Francis, this is Ludwig. Antonio'll be working with another patient." He turned to the German. "I'm Antonio's nurse, this is his doctor," he said while pointing to himself, then Francis. "Let's get a fucking move on."
Ludwig nodded again, obviously eager to get started as well, seeing as they were already late. "I'll be taking Antonio now. His session will be two hours. You're welcome to stay," Ludwig offered while moving behind Francis to take the rubber handles of the wheelchair. Antonio tilted his head back at Ludwig.
"Who a youuu?" He asked curiously, his hand at his side jerking slightly, his tan fingers clenching and unclenching.
Ludwig looked down, raising a thin blonde eyebrow. "I'm Ludwig," he said as Antonio offered him a sloppy, lopsided grin, but quickly lost interest and let his head drop again, his chin brushing his chest.
Francis suddenly nudged Lovino, who had been observing the introductions with narrowed eyes. "Mon ami, how about we walk Antonio in then go for coffee?" he suggested, smiling in what was obviously supposed to be a seductive way to Lovino, no doubt a look that had been practiced on several girls. "After all, I am famished." Francis let out a dramatic groan to accompany these words, raising a hand to his forehead and rolling his eyes back as if he was about to faint. Lovino knew that Francis cared for the well being of his patients, but it wasn't a requirement for nurses or doctors to stay during therapist sessions, and usually they didn't. They could distract them, after all, and cause the sessions to slow down or backpedal.
Lovino rolled his eyes. "Go cry me a fucking river," he muttered as they started to trail after Ludwig towards Antonio's new therapy room. They passed other sessions on their way, and Lovino caught glimpses of people bent over medicine balls and stretched out on yoga mats, crutches and braces discarded in the corner.
"Antonio cannot control basic functions, correct?" Ludwig asked as they walked, Francis letting out occasional whispered whines into Lovino's ear about coffee.
Lovino elbowed the Frenchman back, responding to Ludwig with an annoyed, "What the hell do you consider 'basic functions'?"
"Walking, lifting, physical reactions to touch or verbal command."
Lovino bit his lip, glancing at Antonio who was currently letting his head roll around with the movement of the wheelchair, his mouth open in a 'O'. A faint trail of drool was dripping out of his mouth, and it was a good thing Lovino had tied the other's hair back or it would get fucking gross and spit covered again.
"Well... No."
In front of him, Lovino could see Ludwig nod, as if he had been expecting that. Well, of course he had to have been. Antonio was in a damn wheelchair for fucks sake. Francis let out another groan about being hungry, and Lovino felt himself bristle with annoyance. He was sure the Frenchman wouldn't have been acting like this if this was their former patient, Mr. Kirkland. True, the blonde seemed to like Antonio, but certainly not as much as he had liked the thick browed man they had gotten before. Lovino just wished that the perverted bastard would act that way towards all their patients. No, not act in the 'once you get well enough can I fuck you?' kind of way, but in the 'I'll always be there for you and pay close attention' kind of way.
"Here," Ludwig grunted as they stopped in front of a door near the end of the hall. He let go of Antonio's wheelchair to open the door, and as soon as he did Lovino froze. Ah, now he understood why Ludwig had looked at him for longer than necessary. This was not fucking good.
"Fratello?" A curious and slightly confused but still unbearably cheerful voice questioned as Lovino and Francis stepped in after Antonio, who was now staring at Feliciano with a look of complete and utter confusion, his lips parted as his hands clenched into fists so tight that his normally tan skin was white.
Brows furrowed and slumping forwards slightly in his wheelchair, though it now looked like he might fall off, Antonio spoke almost hesitantly. "Lovi...?" he asked, though it wasn't addressed to Lovino, it seemed to be shot at Feli. Said Italain was currently wearing two bulky leg braces and was standing unsteadily, his hands on the wall to help him balance. His crutches were placed neatly against the wall, along with his shoes. Lovino noticed that Feliciano also seemed to be wearing strange shaped shoes that forced his feet to be straight.
Feliciano turned his excited gaze from Lovino to Francis to Antonio multiple times, looking like he was watching a tennis match. "Oh! This is so much fun! Fratello, is this your patient?" Without waiting for an answer, Feliciano staggered forwards, hands gripping the wall until he was closer to Antonio. Lovino felt an odd feeling of pride when he saw Feliciano walk, though it wasn't really walking. But he wasn't using his crutches, and even with the leg braces it was a start.
Lovino watched carefully as Feli approached his patient, lips forming a thin line as Antonio's wide green eyes settled on Feliciano's face.
"Lovi?" He asked Feliciano again, and for some reason Lovino felt a strong surge of annoyance and anger, and it wasn't towards Antonio. It was towards his little brother. The sad thing was, the feeling wasn't new. Lovino had experienced it before countless times. He remembered the feelings from when they were younger, before Feli needed help walking. He had experienced it countless times, watching as Feliciano collected several girlfriends and boyfriends and admirers throughout high school, while he himself was the awkward loner, the outsider. He had hated Feliciano at fist, but then realized that it wasn't his fault that he was how he was, just like it wasn't entirely Lovino's fault that he acted how he did, too.
But the feelings, or if you want to classify it as one feeling you could call it jealously, have finally gone away over time. Lovino came to accept that yes, his little brother was more liked than him, and also that making friends was hard and annoying as all hell. So he simply stopped caring. He pushed back crushes and friendships and relationships because he knew that if he accepted them, they wouldn't last. And it would lead to more negative feelings, and Lovino just didn't have time to deal with that crap.
So why did it bother him that Antonio, who was simply his patient, was talking to Feliciano as if he was Lovino? That is, he was talking to Feliciano with a sparkle of joy in his eyes that occurred when he talked to Lovino, but not Francis? With a lazy, half grin on his face, an excited bob of his head that indicated how happy he was?
Feliciano giggled happily at Antonio's confusion, obviously finding it cute, as he stopped in front of him. "No, silly!" He chirped and Lovino noticed out of the corner of his eye how Ludwig was starting to nervously hover around Feliciano, since the younger Italian was now trying to bend down to get a closer look at Antonio, though obviously bending his knees wasn't an easy task with the leg braces. "I'm Feliciano! You can call me Feli though, if that's easier," he said as he took a hand off the wall to shake Antonio's hand.
Ludwig darted forwards immediately, a large, pale hand steadying Feliciano's elbow. "I told you to keep a hand on the wall at all times," The German stressed, but was ignored as Feliciano squealed in delight when Antonio messily shook his hand, grin widening on his face.
"Felly," Antonio said, the name falling messily from his lips. Feliciano's face brightened and he nodded. Antonio then turned to the German who was still holding on to Feliciano (something Lovinp was starting to feel irritated about), and mumbled, "Loodig." This caused Feliciano to burst into a fit of giggles, which resulted in what Lovino took as a pleased look from Antonio.
Or maybe the nurse just wasn't thinking straight. Suddenly, getting coffee with a blonde pervert sounded much better than watching his patient getting all buddy buddy with his little brother. He nudged Francis, who had also been watching the scene, though with much more boredom than Lovino. "We can go now," he grumbled, turning to leave. Francis grinned at him and nodded.
"We shall be back!" The Frenchman sang before waltzing out of the room with the keys gripped in his hands. He really must've been hungry, Lovino reasoned. However, before the Italian could follow the doctor Ludwig cleared his throat.
Sighing in annoyance, because by then he decided that he really, really disliked that guy, Lovino turned around. "Si?" he asked, trying to ignore how his fratello was chatting with Antonio, who really just looked like he was going to fall asleep but was still grinning.
"May I have your cellular number?" The blonde asked, placing Feliciano's hand on the wall before making his way over to Lovino. When he took in the nurse's confused look and raised eyebrow, he quickly explained himself. "In case something goes wrong with Antonio. I don't want to contact the hospital if it is nothing too serious," he said as he reached into one of his pant's pockets and took out a black pen. It was a company one, and the logo stood out in large, white letters.
"Paper?" Lovino asked as he took the bulky pen, frowning at it. It reminded him of the German, for some reason, and he kind of wanted to smash it in two. Ludwig nodded quickly, patting his other pocket before quickly going towards the back of the room where a small table filled with charts and graphs that Lovino hadn't noticed before was there. He came back with a torn piece of paper, and Lovino snatched it from him and scribbled down his number.
He shoved the paper back to the other with a nod. "Don't call me for anything stupid," he grumbled as he turned again.
"Bye, fratello!" A voice called and Lovino half turned to see Feli waving. He tried to stop the sinking of his heart when Antonio didn't even turn to acknowledge his parting. After a nod to Feliciano, he exited the room.
Francis was leaning against the wall, and when Lovino stepped out he smiled. "What took you so long?" He asked as they started walking. At the same time he tried to wrap an arm around Lovino's waist, only to have his arm harshly pinched. He quickly retracted it.
"The damn German wanted my number," he grumbled as Francis pouted and rubbed his arm. His face lit up at the statement, however, but when he opened his mouth to comment Lovino quickly cut him off. "In case something wrong happens with Antonio," he explained, trying to fight the annoying blush that came to his cheeks at the look Francis gave him.
"Let's just go."
The cafe was small, and even if Lovino would never admit it out loud, rather cute. He wouldn't admit it because the bastard Francis picked it, and also because it was a French cafe. Ever since Lovino had started working with the blonde doctor, he had a grudge against all things French. But that didn't stop him from ordering a few strawberry flavored macaroons and a cup of French roast coffee. There were several pictures of the Eiffel Tower on the dark brown wood walls, and the plates that held Lovino's macaroons and Francis' chocolate croissant had the word 'love' written written in French in a fancy cursive print. It was cheesy and unbearably cliché, but it had a homey feel to it and the food was, admittedly, good.
Francis seemed to like it as well. Or at least, he liked their waiter, a red haired girl with thick curves and a nose piercing. The blonde leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee as he watched the girl move around. "Oh, she sways her hips like an angel," he said dreamily as she passed by their table. "Although, I would prefer a blonde," he added seemingly lost in his thoughts for a moment. Lovino kicked him sharply under the table which caused the other to jump.
"Stop staring at her ass. We'll get kicked out," he snapped at him as he took a bite of his macaroon. It was good, though over priced. He decided to save one for Feliciano, he loved trying new foods. Plus he loved strawberry gelato, so he would like a strawberry macaroon too, right?
Francis shrugged, smiling at him. "I can not help it. I am French, non? Loving all is simply in my nature," he exclaimed with a sigh, licking some chocolate from his lips that was a result of his pastry. "Speaking of love, our new patient seems to be leaving a mark on you," Francis suddenly added, his lips falling into a sly smirk that made Lovino cringe as he took a sip of his coffee.
After swallowing the bitter drink, Lovino shot Francis a warning glare. "You're full of it. He's just a patient," he shot back quickly, looking down at the two remaining macaroons.
A knowing chuckle came from the other side of the table. "Oui, but you have never been so, well, eager to help a patient before. Honestly, holding his hand without a fight?" Lovino glanced up angrily to see one of the blonde's thin eyebrows raised.
Fighting a blush, a fight that Lovino figured he was failing due to the uncomfortable heat prickling his cheeks, Lovino narrowed his eyes. "Well, you can't say anything about it. You were all over our last patient," he pointed out.
Francis' eyes widened a bit, and Lovino bit back a snicker at the light blush that bloomed over his companion's pale cheeks. "Arthu-" he stopped himself and cleared his throat. "Mr. Kirkland needed special attention though!" He said, frowning at Lovino as he finished off his pastry and brushed off some spare flakes from his hands and legs.
"He was better off than Antonio," Lovino pointed out while he took the two remaining treats and wrapped them up in a few disposable napkins. "So you can't really-" Lovino suddenly stopped, frowning. Fuck. Was that his phone?
Biting back an irritated sigh and ignoring Francis' small chuckle at Lovino's ringtone, he placed the napkins down and waved off Francis who was now giving him a confused look. Reaching into his pocket, Lovino removed his cell phone and narrowed his eyes at the number on the screen. He had no idea who it was, but the area code was the same as his, so they must be local. He pressed the green answer button, lifting the phone against his ear. "Hello?"
"Is this Lovino Vargas?" A stiff voice answered immediately, and the German accent indicated who it was.
"Si," Lovino said, feeling a pang of worry jolt through his body as he gripped the phone tighter. Francis shot him a concerned look but didn't say anything, instead calling over the red headed waiter for their check. "What's wrong? Did something happen?" He asked hurriedly when there seemed to be a pause on the other end of the phone.
There were some muffled sounds, an irritated, 'No, you may not tell your brother about your new pasta idea right now', and a few more sounds that sounded clearer before Ludwig spoke again. "Antonio is fine," Lovino breathed a sigh of relief as he observed Francis try to flirt the waiter into giving them a discount across the table. "But... You have to come." Some more sounds, one that was no doubt Feliciano's voice that sounded slightly panicked. "Now."
The drive to the physical therapy building was short and hurried, though Francis still refused to let Lovino drive. "If Antonio was dying in a pool of his own blood I might let you drive," he said with an oh so charming smile to Lovino, who flushed angrily and threatened to throw a macaroon at him.
When Lovino knocked loudly and impatiently on the door to the room, Ludwig answered quickly, ice blue eyes showing obvious relief. "Come inside," he said as he stepped inside and he and Francis slipped inside.
"Antonio was fine for the first half hour," Ludwig explained as Francis and Lovino observed the scene in front of them. "But, well, then things went wrong," Ludwig frowned. "He refuses to be touched or to do his exercise, which is fairly simple and involves no physical strain."
Feliciano was looking rather panicked, leaning against the wall still and talking rapid fast to Antonio, his one free hand flailing around with various hand gestures. It was clear that he hadn't noticed the return of the doctor and his brother since he didn't even glance up.
Antonio, however, didn't look like he was listening. He head was slumped to the side as if he didn't have the energy to hold it up, though he was holding up one hand. His hand was grasping the hair, groping around for something that obviously wasn't there. And he was talking. Or rather, he was mumbling slurred sentences. "Lovi. Naht w'tought Lovi," was the repeated sentence, over and over.
"But Lovi's getting food, ve, and he'll be back soon! Come on, you were doing good exercises before!" Feliciano encouraged, shooting confused looks at Antonio's hand. He eventually reached over, as if to hold it, but Antonio jerked it back.
For the first time since Lovino had met the Spaniard, he looked annoyed. It wasn't a big facial change, but for Lovino it was enough. His lips had turned downwards, his brows furrowed. But it was his eyes that gave him away, the normally twinkling green flashing in a way that they hadn't before. "Nooo," he grumbled as his hand moved away from the concerned looking Feli. "Felly not Lovi," he said as if this was Feliciano's fault, like the younger had somehow managed to trick Antonio into thinking that he actually was Lovino.
It was at this time that Lovino decided to step in, letting out an exasperated sigh at Antonio's actions. He grabbed the larger hand in his own, and Antonio at first tried to jerk it back, but when the Italian held on he turned his head towards his hand, chocolate strands of hair falling loose from his ponytail. He stared at Lovino for a good minute before tilting his head and breaking out into a smile. "Lovi!" he cried as his arm jerked back towards himself while his grip tightened. The result was Lovino half falling forwards with a small yelp as Antonio let his face fall against Lovino's shoulder and he took a shaky breath in. "Lovi," he repeated, though he sounded sadder. "Whyy... Whyy youu leeve?" He said asked in what Lovino could determine was a sad and questioning voice. "Felly no Lovi," he mumbled against Lovino's shoulder.
In the background, Lovino could hear Feliciano let out an excited gasp and Francis let out a snicker. "Antonio, dammit, let me go," Lovino grumbled in annoyance. Said patient simply seemed to grip him tighter, a rumbling sigh escaping his lips. "Fuck. Antonio, I'm not going to leave again, I was getting food with Francis. Now let me go and do your stupid exercises."
There was a pause, and finally Antonio's grip loosened. Lovino straightened up, glaring at the Spaniard whose lips were parted into a half grin. "Now let go of my hand." Antonio didn't move, he didn't even make any indication that he had heard the other.
Suddenly, Ludwig cleared his throat loudly in the background "Lovino, I think that it's best that you stay the rest of the session." Lovino scowled and he could've sworn the grin widened on his patients face. "And I'm afraid that you'll have to continue holding his hand as well," Ludwig added awkwardly.
Lovino knew from the giggles coming in the direction of Francis and Feliciano that this wasn't something that was going to get dropped anytime soon. He heaved a sigh, glaring at Ludwig like this was all his fault, and nodded his head, succumbing to the gazes of emerald green and cool blue. "This better be fucking worth it."