A/N: tw for sa
The exhaustion from last night hit him like a slap in the face when the breakfast bell went off, waking him from his restless sleep. When he got to the cafeteria, he was running on habit and sat with Alfred and his small group. As much as he would like to have some distance from the other man, there wasn't a whole lot of other options. Luckily, Alfred was preoccupied telling the other members of the party some news on the new batch of arrivals and didn't pay him much mind. That quickly changed when after they were done eating and Feliciano mentioned he was going back to his cell for a nap. There was a brief flash of what seemed like annoyance on Alfred's face, but only for a moment before he gave Feliciano a goofy grin and told him to have a good nap.
Back in his cell, he fought off the thoughts that he had been drowning in all night. He had just managed to get back to sleep when he was woken up by a guard, informing him that his lawyer called and was looking to speak. Sighing, he crawled out of bed and headed towards the common room which held a bank of phones. Maybe it was because he was still so tired, he failed to notice the guard following him. When he turned the corner into an empty corridor on the slower side of the prison, the guard caught up to him. The man grabbed him from behind, clamping a hand over Feliciano's mouth before he had a chance to react. Whatever sleepiness had possessed him before, it was entirely gone now as his eyes widened and his heart pounded. He could feel the guards hot breath on his hear as he spoke,
"Here's how this is gonna go. You're going to shut the fuck up and do exactly what we tell you. Don't think about trying anything unless you want every single bone to be smashed to shit." This couldn't be happening. He had gotten so used to being under Alfred's protection that his caution had been fading. The guard let him go and ordered him to walk forward. They continued on, the guard telling him which way to go. They were no longer headed for the common room, now they were headed towards a part of the prison he had never seen. It was where the janitorial staff kept their supplies, a large storage room in the basement. When they arrived, the guard stepped out of the room then shut and locked the door behind him. Feliciano immediately saw another figure, quietly waiting on the other side of the room. It was an older man, he would guess well into his 50's. He smiled with crooked teeth and it sent shivers down the small Italian's spine. This man looked incredibly rough, the years well worn on his face and Feliciano got the sense that many of those years included heavy drug use.
"Hey, sweetheart." The man said, approaching. Feliciano backed up as much as he could, pressing himself against the door. The man put his hand on the door, right above the young Italian's head and leaned in. He could smell his fowl breath as he spoke again.
"Ohhh, no need to be afraid of me. We're gonna be real good friends, you and I."
Feliciano wanted to cry. He wanted to sob and scream and run and hide so far down deep in a hole that no one would ever find him again. His stomach churned and sweat was beginning to roll down every surface of his body. There was no way he was getting away this time. Whoever this man was, he had the guards on his side and knew how to get privacy.
"My name is Boris. I've been waiting a long time to finally meet you, Feliciano." The young man did not want to look at him, but he was also too afraid of what the consequences of looking away would be. The smell of old cigarettes pierced his nostrils as Boris continued, "Ya know, getting anything from outside costs a fortune. But you were by far the most expensive purchase I've made in decades." Boris' reached up with his free hand and caressed Feliciano's cheek as the smaller man flinched and squeezed his eyes shut.
"So you make sure to be a good boy and make it worth my while, huh?"
The nightmare lasted for what seemed like hours. When he was finally released from the storage room, he was in a daze. It was lunchtime but he hadn't even noticed the bell, he just continued to wander the halls, mind unable to think of anything other than the horrors he had just endured. Boris' tongue, so far in his mouth he choked. Boris' dirty hands, touching every part of his body.
Feliciano had hardly even realized where his feet had carried him until he was standing inside the library. It was empty and quiet and clean. Then everything hit all at once. He was so focused on doing what Boris had told him in order to survive that he had suppressed his emotions and his mind. Now it was all flooding back and he dropped to the floor, putting a hand over his mouth to quiet the sobs. He clawed at his skin and pulled at his hair as the steady stream of tears flowed down his face. Never had he ever felt so dirty and vile as he was right now. His skin was crawling, like it was toxic and he clawed at himself to try and escape, to try and get out of it.
When Ludwig returned, Feliciano didn't notice. He was still so focused on his own destruction, he jumped when there were suddenly hands over his own, forcing them to be still. His sobs paused and he looked up through bleary eyes to see Ludwig, who was looking at the mutilation Feliciano had managed. He tore his hands away from the other's grasp, covering his face as the sobs returned.
"Come," Ludwig said, Feliciano peaked through his fingers to see him motion towards one of the cozy library chairs. Shakily, he got to his feet and moved over to the chair. He didn't know why he was listening to the German, he figured it was just easier to go along with whatever he said. He collapsed in a heap onto the chair and buried his face in his hands, the tears not ceasing.
"Do not move," The German man said as Feliciano heard him exit the room and lock the door behind him. A few moments later, Ludwig came back in and pulled up another chair just in front of Feliciano setting a few things down on the table next to them.
"Please, may I see your arms?" Feliciano thrust them forward without thinking. The blond man took one of them delicately into his hands, his grip surprising gentle for such large hands.
"I apologize if this stings," Ludwig pick up the clean cloth he had prepared and softly dabbed at where Feliciano had done the most damage. The smaller man flinched, and looked up to see what was happening. As he watched the German work, his sobs faded to tears, then to quiet hiccups. By the time Ludwig finished cleaning both his arms, he had calmed down. It was hypnotizing to watch the large, rough hands move so delicately and gracefully. The German stood up when he was finished and exited the room, locking it behind him once again. Feliciano took a moment to look at his arms. Ludwig had done a good job of cleaning and the bandages were firm but not overly so. The young Italian was somewhat curious as to why his cellmate was helping him but he decided that he didn't have the energy to think about it. The German was back again a few minutes later, setting down a paper cup on the table in front of Feliciano.
"Hot chocolate," said Ludwig as he sat at the main desk up front and started rifling through some papers. "You may stay here during dinner, I will lock the door and no one will bother you." Feliciano nodded softly, blowing on the the contents of the paper cup before taking a small sip. He was about halfway through his drink when his eyelids suddenly felt like they weighed a million pounds. Setting the cup down, he curled up as much as he could and drifted off to the soft and calming sounds of Ludwig's paperwork.
Several hours later, he awoke to the lights turning on in the library. He blinked furiously, looking around. Ludwig was standing at the front of the room, staring at him. Feliciano expected to see a look of pity, a loot of disgust, or anything else along that spectrum. Yet, that wasn't the case. The German's face looked as blank and indifferent as ever. Unsure why, he felt relieved by it.
"Come. I will escort you back." Feliciano nodded at the words but as he got to his feet, his entire body flared in pain. He stumbled forwards, sure he was about to collide with the floor but something stopped him. The German had managed to cross the room and get to him just before he landed directly on his face. Ludwig helped him get steady on his feet and allowed him to lean on him as they slowly started moving towards the door. If Feliciano had been aware of his surroundings, he would've noticed every single person who saw the pair, stop to gawk. Eventually, after several stops for the Italian to catch his breath, they made it back to their shared living space. He stared at his bunk, wondering how he was gonna climb up without the burning pain completely overtaking him. However, he didn't have to dwell on this for long as Ludwig pulled back the sheets on his own bunk and motioned for the younger man to get in. Feliciano didn't waste a second crawling into the bunk, the German got the blanket loose so that it was easier to maneuver. The bed was identical to his own but there was one standout difference. It smelled just like Ludwig. Like a mix of fresh rain and barley. He watched the German retreat over to the small table, opening his book as was his nightly routine. Feliciano was completely wiped and knew he could pass out easily if he tried, yet instead he just watched his cellmate. The entire prison avoided this man like he was sick with a plague and even the guards quiver when they see him. He had seen him force a man to his knees with just a few words and he had an aura that radiated with murderous intent. Somehow, it was the same man who brought him his favourite book, cleaned his wounds and managed to secure him a hot chocolate.
"Why is everyone so scared of you?" The words had escaped Feliciano's lips without him noticing. He didn't mean to ask, but he was very curious for the answer. Ludwig looked up at him,
"Rest. We talk tomorrow," he said and gave a small nod. The young Italian returned it and shut his eyes, falling asleep quickly with his face buried in the pillow.
