I... can explain.

I actually left the fandom a few years ago and started focusing on original writing in the hopes of getting published. That's going fine, but I missed writing fanfiction too, and I feel writing for fun can help me improve my writing overall. I'm not going to be starting any new fics, but I might pop back every now and again to update chapters here and there. I can't promise I'll be around permanently, but I'm sorta back for now.

If you want to talk and catch up, feel free to DM me.

Tino was quite aware that this was a room mostly full of strangers with no military training. There were only so many weapons stockpiled in the headquarters, and he wasn't going to waste bullets on people who didn't know how to use them. Luckily, he had a small collection of dummy bullets he used to teach his boys gun safety. And the stockpile would grow. He still had some army connections, people he knew would sneak more weapons to him, just a few, barely noticeable in the big picture.

Tino paced the room, full of wooden crates, a table of weapons, and a handful of makeshift targets. "Now, I'm not letting you fucks near the real deal until I can trust you not to shoot your own dicks off," he began; "there'll be plenty of time for danger, when the whole city is searching for you and you're fighting soldiers ten-to-one. No point killing yourselves by accident before that. We'll be practising with these while you get the hang of gun safety and aiming." He showed off the dummy bullets.

"And our budget's next to nothing?" asked Alin.

"That too. No use wasting real bullets on target practice. Not to mention, it's stupid and dangerous." He surveyed the little group. There was Alin, of course, and Tsvetan. Lovino and Xavier were listening with childish awe, next to Antonio, Alfred and Matthew. Céline was standing on a crate so she could actually see what was happening. Gunner, Vidar and Francis seemed to be the most focused here.

"Now, I know this is a strange place to start," Tino continued, "especially when we're talking about weapons made to kill, but I'm serious when I say safety is key here, and I will say it over and over again until it's beaten into you. If I have to literally beat it into you, then I will. How can you call yourselves an army when all you're shooting is each other, right?" A few people nodded.

"Am I talking to corpses here?" Tino raised his voice, "you will answer with a "yes sir" so I can make sure you're paying attention."

"Yes sir."

"Louder!"

"Yes sir!"

"Say it like you mean it!" he thundered.

"Yes sir!" Lovino's mouth was raw from shouting.

"I'm almost impressed. Moving on, there are a few basic rules. One: keep your hand away from the trigger until you're ready to shoot. Accidents happen. Two: do not point your gun at anyone or anything you're not planning to shoot. For the most part, that means keeping it pointed at the floor. We have to train in a confined space, so we don't want bullets bouncing off the walls. Three: know what you're shooting at, what you might hit, and what's behind the thing you're shooting at. And, most importantly, four: these rules apply to all guns, whether loaded or not. Assume they are, and check if they are before doing anything else with a gun, even if you're certain it's unloaded. Am I being clear?"

"Yes sir," came a chorus of voices, and Lovino, eager to please, gave a salute.

"At ease, Vargas," said Tino, amused. Lovino put his hand down with a blush. Tino gestured to a crate behind him. "Most of our weapons are these revolvers. They're also a very simple gun to use, perfect for beginners like you. I want you all to know how these work. I want you to be able to assemble, disassemble, load, empty this thing as easy as breathing. If you master the revolver, I can train you to fire something more powerful."

Lovino nodded. It'd be great if he was a natural at this. He'd never been top of the class in anything. Not a troublemaker either, just generally unremarkable. But he wanted to be the best here, and have Tino shower him with compliments and have Xavier and Antonio think he was the coolest thing.

He blinked. Wait, since when did he care about Antonio thinking he was cool?

Tino picked up one of the guns. "Now, this is a standard army revolver. It fires six shots, then you need to reload. This fat bit is the chamber, it's where the bullets go," he added, with a slightly patronising tone. "This button here, behind the chamber on the left hand side of the gun, opens the chamber." He demonstrated. "When loading your gun, point it downwards. And if you want to empty your gun, tip your bullets out like so." He emptied the bullets onto the table. "If you haven't fired yet, empty the bullets into your other hand if you have one. If you've fired, and want to remove the empty shells, let them fall onto the floor. They'll be too hot to hold."

Lovino followed it all, hanging on to Tino's every word. He had seen guns before, used by the police and army, and he'd always considered them something to avoid. The idea of using one himself, having that amount of power, it was electrifying. He wouldn't be some little bug to be terrorised and pushed around.

"Now, Gunner here is gonna help me demonstrate how to hold the gun with two hands. I can fire one-handed, because I'm cool and put in the extra practice, but for you able-bodied people, two hands is easier."

"Do a lot of things one-handed, Tino?" Gunner made a wanking gesture before taking the gun. Tino just stared at him. "I mean, I know you do everything one-handed, but…" He trailed off awkwardly.

"Gunner?"

"Tino?"

"Gunner."

"Sorry. Yes, sir?"

"Shut the fuck up."

Tino explained how to hold the gun, and Lovino probably remembered half of it. He didn't feel so brave thinking about how he wasn't going to be instantly amazing at firing guns. He was going to look stupid in front of everyone.

"Everyone grab some safety goggles, and I'll show you how to shoot." Tino nodded at a box of goggles and Gunner started handing them out to everyone. "Yes, in a real life situation, you probably won't have safety equipment, but let's keep you alive until then."

"So what you're saying," said Tsvetan, "is that we need a rich sugar daddy to buy us weapons and armour?"

"Yes. Do you know one?"

"Do I look like I know any rich people?"

"No, useless bastard."

Satisfied that everyone was wearing their goggles, Tino put on ear-protectors and stepped up to the target: a pillow on a stick, with a poster of the Emperor stapled on. He fired all 6 rounds in quick succession, leaving a trail of holes from Roderich's torso to his forehead. Even though everyone else was standing back, the gunshots were deafening, and Lovino was relieved to see he wasn't the only person who jumped. Antonio covered his ears, shaking. Céline fell off her crate. Tino unloaded the empty shells and carefully set the gun down.

"Now, who wants to try first?"

Alfred's hand immediately shot up. "Me, sir! Can I go first, pretty please?"

Tino smiled. "Well, since you asked so politely."

Alfred punched the air and bounded up next to Tino. He took the gun, and immediately looked down the barrel. Tino snatched the gun back.

"Never do that again!"

"Oh, right, sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Tino gave him a look of disgust. "If I give this back do you promise to think?"

"Yes, sir."

Tino tentatively handed him back the revolver. "Keep the barrel pointed down until you are ready to aim at the target here." He gestured to the one he'd just fired at. "Hand off the trigger."

Alfred nodded and took aim. Tino adjusted his arms slightly. "How does the gun feel in your hands?"

"Heavy. Very heavy."

"Good." He handed Alfred the headphones. "Put these on and fire."

Alfred took aim again and fired twice. The first shot missed, but the second grazed the target.

Tino whistled. "Not bad, private."

"Thank you, sir!" Alfred beamed at him, waving the gun about absent-mindedly.

As quickly as it appeared, the smile fell from Tino's face. He snatched the revolver back and hit Alfred with it. The boy doubled over, clutching his head. "If I see your hand on the trigger when you're not about to shoot one more time," he screamed, "I'll buttfuck you with a rifle!"

"Don't threaten me with a good time," mumbled Alfred.

"Be horny in your own time, private!" He smacked the back of Alfred's head.

"Sorry, sir."

He turned away from Alfred. "I'm going to set up a shooting range, and we'll work in small groups taking turns. Gunner, could you help me get everything ready?"

Lovino aimed at the target once more and fired, missing it by inches. He groaned in frustration, punching the sandbag barricade he was crouching behind.

"Hey, you're getting close," said Antonio, aiming at the next target over. The two lay side-by-side, amongst five others currently shooting. So far only Hunapo and Alfred had hit a target.

"You're getting close," Lovino grumbled, "give me some space." When Antonio wiggled away, Lovino took aim and fired again. He missed. "Would've been nice to have been naturally talented at something. But I'm shit at shooting, just like everything else in life." He let himself wallow in pity for a few moments more.

"Ah, don't be so hard on yourself," Antonio ruffled his hair. "We can't all be perfect; it's just a burden I have to bear."

Lovino glared at him. "You're full of shit, man."

Tino's face appeared between them. "Less talking, more shooting! Believe me when I say you will master this weapon or else." He pulled himself up to his full height and resumed his pacing.

Lovino looked at his revolver. When Alfred had called the thing heavy, Lovino had assumed he'd just been talking literally. Now the thought of what it could do to someone, a tiny lump of metal, it was weighing on him. "I don't like this," he admitted. "I don't know if I can kill someone." The excitement was wearing off fast. Being in a rebel army, using a gun, it all seemed fun in his little fantasies, but could he actually shoot someone? Would he have to?

Antonio squeezed his shoulder. "Me neither. I guess it's something we'll have to prepare ourselves for."

Lovino made a face.

"You'll have to make your peace with it. As will I, and Xavier. And everyone here." He turned back to his target and fired. He hit what was supposed to be the target's stomach, and Antonio gave a whoop. Lovino clapped, seething.

"Same time tomorrow, boys," Sadik called as everyone began filing out of the main hall. "From now on, we might just have to stick to weekends for these kinds of meetings. If you have time during the weekdays, then feel free to come in and read up on some political theory. We're getting the library back in working order."

"That's cool," Lovino whined to Xavier, "I didn't care about my weekends anyway."

"There is literally no difference between a weekend and weekday for us," Xavier pointed out.

"Wait, so do we have to come in every day then?"

"Nah, they'll understand that we need to look for jobs." Xavier walked into the corridor. "Man, I hope we get to explore this place some more. To think its been under our feet this whole time."

Sadik watched everyone leave, one by one, until only Tino remained, a duffle bag by his feet. Sadik nodded at him. "You looking after your privates, Väinämöinen?"

"Oh I've given them a good pounding, Adnan."

Sadik boomed out a laugh. Tino joined in, slightly less enthusiastically.

"Look, I heard you have a kid."

Sadik studied Tino's face, checking for- well, he didn't know what. Intent? He didn't like the question. "Who wants to know?"

"Me, but I just want to know if you'd like some clothes for him." He reached into his bag and brought out a small pile of children's t-shirts and shorts. "These are some my boys grew out of. I hope he likes blue."

"Oh," Sadik took the clothes with trembling hands. "Wow. Thank you. That's- wow. You didn't have to do this."

Tino waved his hand. "Think nothing of it. You've given me a second chance, and I couldn't be more grateful. Would he like some toys too?"

"I don't know." Kuzey had had toys growing up: pebbles, sticks, sand to draw in. Would he know what to do with real toys? "Do you have any spare?"

"A few. And some kids books, if he wants."

If he can read, Sadik inferred. "He would." He'd taught the boy what he could, in the shade of boulders and ravines, drawing letters in the dirt.

"I'll see what I can find," said Tino.

"Thank you." Sadik wanted to hug him. "This is all so much. Thank you." He felt like an idiot, but it was all he could think to say.

Tino nodded, coughed and began to leave, then paused by the door. "Look, Adnan, I know what it's like raising a child the world doesn't want alive." He left before Sadik could reply.

"Hey, kid," Sadik pushed open the door to his and Kuzey's room and set the clothes down on one of the unoccupied beds. "Presents."

"Presents?" Kuzey looked at the clothes wearily. He'd spent the day in the room, eating and drinking whatever Kiku brought him, and napping. He didn't look so sickly now, to Sadik's relief. When the boy had more strength, and was used to the bunker, Sadik would let him wander during the day. As it was, he tried to keep Kuzey out of sight of everyone, except Heracles and Kiku.

"Yes. One of my men left you some clothes;" He lifted one of the shorts up to show him. Until now, Kuzey had been wearing a fresh shirt as a tunic. The boy climbed down from his bunk, wandered over and took one of the shirts in his hands.

"These are for me?" he asked in disbelief.

"All yours, yes."

"I didn't know they made clothes for kids." He got changed into a shorts and t-shirt. "They fit really nice." They didn't, but at least they were made for someone around his size.

"You look like any other kid now," Sadik grinned. "Everyone's gone, by the way. When you're done looking through your clothes, meet me in the canteen and we'll have dinner."

Kuzey nodded. "Thank you, dad." Sadik hugged him and left him to it, wandering back along the corridors. He heard rustling from one of the storerooms, and poked his head in to find Alin and Tsvetan buried in boxes of books and maps. The pair grunted a greeting at him, and they carried on in silence for a few moments.

"Do you think you could take a look at some of these maps?" asked Alin. "I doubt they're very accurate, but you're the only person who'd know." He passed a handful of ancient maps to Sadik, who shrugged.

"I don't know if I'll be able to read these, and translate them to what I saw, but I'll try." He leafed through the maps. Some were political, showing the boundaries of countries long forgotten. Others were topographical, but full of rivers and forests where there were now desert. Sadik had had a good lay of the land out there, but the landmarks he'd used were personal: petrified tree stumps and rocks. During his years in exile, he always knew where the city was in relation to himself, but no one knew its exact location compared to old world maps.

"You can go home, you know?" He told them. "Not trying to kick you out, but you've worked pretty hard."

"Oh, we don't mind," said Tsvetan. "There's a lot here to inventory. We can stay late."

"Alin and Tsvetan might as well sleep here," added Alin shyly.

Sadik studied the pair of them. They were thin, their clothes almost as bad as his had been in the wilderness. "You don't want to go home, do you?"

Alin and Tsvetan exchanged glances. "We're Disgraced," Alin finally admitted. "No one would miss us if we disappeared down here."

"Do we disgust you?" Asked Tsvetan. He shrank into himself as he asked.

Sadik shook his head. "The class system is a load of nonsense. I assume you have your reasons for becoming Disgraced, and they were probably unfair."

Alin nodded, but didn't supply any information about their fall to the Disgraced.

"Could we set ourselves up in one of the rooms?" Asked Tsvetan. "We don't have much, and we don't need much. No one would miss us up above. And if anything happened here, you'd have us to send messages, since we're not technically fugitives."

"No problem at all," said Sadik, "I'm sure we can give each other enough space."

"Thank you," said Alin, "and if Alin and Tsvetan were to have a change of clothes, no one would know we were even Disgraced. We could blend right in up above, if you need us."

Sadik nodded. "Why do you talk in third person?"

Alin fingered the edges of a cardboard box. "It reminds me that I am a person, a living being, and not some vermin to be shot at."

"I see." Sadik moved towards the doorway, "Well, carry on then. Let me know if you find anything."

When Lovino walked through his front door, he was surprised at how pleasant he found the company of his extended family. They could sympathise with the situation he was in, and they could share a laugh and a joke during the walk home. They didn't talk openly, but he could tell they were bristling with excitement. He wished he could ask them how they felt about possibly using violence, but that would have to wait until tomorrow.

Xavier, Adriaan and Isabel lived in other parts of town, and they never walked home together. Lovino winced. Adriaan and Isabel must've wondered where he and Xavier had been today. Had they spent the whole day by the river, waiting for them? No, Adriaan would know where they'd been. Would he be angry? Would he report them? Surely he wouldn't do that to his friends, right? Lovino wondered what he'd do in the same situation and sighed, deciding to push the matter out of his mind and focus on preparing dinner.

He filled a pot with water and pasta and set it to boil.

"Hey, boy," Grandpa Janus strode into the kitchen. "How was your day?"

Exhausting? Stressful? "Fine," Lovino turned his attention back to the boiling pot in front of him. Grandpa Janus didn't reply, and when Lovino looked back up, he found the old man staring at him strangely. "What?"

"You weren't… not after we talked about…"

"Of course not!" Lovino turned back to the pot. His skin crawled. He knew his grandpa didn't believe him.

"I was helping him look for a job," Francis came to his rescue. "And maybe something for myself. No luck, though." No one was going to employ Francis. He was Disgraced in all but name.

Janus eyed his son suspiciously. "You make sure he finds something, okay? I want him safe."

"I'll keep him safe," Francis promised. Lovino had no idea how he was planning to keep that promise. It seemed to satisfy Grandpa, though, who pulled the two of them into a crushing hug.

"Yeah, alright," Lovino pushed him away. "I'm trying to cook here."