Chapter One

A man marched down the hall; a picturesque vision of what one could expect from a trained German soldier: a trained, straight back, a stony face that gave away no emotion that could be used against him, a walk that had purpose and power, making everyone else in the hall shy away from the echoing steps. This man was called Ludwig Beilschmidt.

Ludwig was part of the German army during World War II, a powerhouse in itself, and he was considered an icon and a leader to many of his men; every man in the army looked up to his stoic features and wished themselves to be him. Ludwig was dutiful, strong, and very, very good at what he did. He gathered information, and he did it extremely well. Everyone knew of his tactics, and feared them, yet at the same time held them in the highest respect. They knew that no one could last more than an hour with the younger Beilschmidt, and were terrified to be put in that position. Ludwig knew that better than anyone.

Ludwig marched down a white, clean hall, completely silent except for the cold echo of his footsteps snapping against the floor. The head of his division had called for him personally, and he couldn't help but wonder as to what the hell he wanted. Yes, he had been given countless missions before, but the season was turning to winter, and he was needed in the camps. Coughs and groans sounded behind closed doors and Ludwig unconsciously picked up his pace, not wanting his thoughts to wander to those prisoners, many of which he had hunted down and extracted information from himself. Ludwig paused. A change of scenery could be good for him.

Knocks hit the head's door, a muffled 'ja' sounding through the wood to allow passage to the knocker. Ludwig carefully entered the office and saluted, the head relaying the same motion towards him. "Was ist, Kommandant?" He asked, his eyes drifting around the room.

The Commander looked at him stonily, aware of his wariness of being in his office. "Sie Arbeit in Italien haben." Ludwig shifted his gaze back to the Commander and nodded, internally sighing with relief. Italy: it wasn't terribly far, and it was a nice change of pace from the repetitive day-to-day life here at camp. He snapped a salute, getting a half-hearted one in return as the Commander gestured to the door with his eyes. Ludwig nodded and did an about-face, moving to exit the room when the Commander stopped him with his voice again. "Beilschmidt, halten Sie Ihren Verstand über Sie." Ludwig paused at that statement, but continued out the door to mull in his confusion. He knew that he would get more information during the trip that was set up for him already. He's been doing this for a long time.

"WEST!" A shrill voice hollered down the corridor, making him jump and turn around, preparing to fight whatever threat was posing itself. A mass hit him full-on, and his instincts immediately kicked in. Quickly, Ludwig grabbed one of the opposing arms and twisted it before kicking the person's legs out from under them, quickly following their path to the ground and digging his knee in their back, pinning them effectively.

"Wer sind Sie?" He growled, digging his fingers into the person's hair. He tightened his grip and prepared himself to pull when he realized something was off about their hair. Their soft, familiar, silver…oh shit.

Ludwig rolled off of his brother, pushing himself to a standing position and brushing off some nonexistent dust that had landed on him in their tussle. His brother's signature laugh taunted him from the floor.

"Still got it in you, eh Lud?" The albino chuckled, getting to his feet as well, holding a hand to his shoulder as he rolled it, trying to get feeling back into the limb. Ludwig scrunched his face in confusion for a second as he processed what exactly his brother just said.

"Why…are you speaking English, Gilbert?" He asked, playing along with his obnoxious older brother. He knew that his brother would pester him throughout the entire day if this conversation lasted any longer, but he was genuinely curious as to what provoked him to speak in what he considered an 'enemy language'.

Gilbert laughed easily again before gesturing to his brother to follow him down the hall. Ludwig sighed, but complied.

"A little birdy told me that you're heading off to Italy soon." He slipped a gaze to his older brother, who was confused as to the turn of events.

"Ja, so?" Gilbert chuckled again before brushing the hair out of his eyes.

"I'm going to be taking you there!" He paused, and the laughter in his voice faded away and the joy in his eyes dulled slightly, his lips pressed together in a sullen manner. Ludwig easily observed the change in demeanor, and was about to question it before the other continued. "You know, our last brother-bonding activity before I head out to the lines." Gilbert paused again, a far-off look in his eyes as he seemed to drift away from reality. "Yeah…"

"Gilbert…" Gilbert didn't look at him, instead fixing his gaze at the door located down the hall and fiddling with his keyring to find the match. Ludwig dropped what he was about to say, losing himself in his thoughts concerning the mission ahead. Yes, he'd done countless other ones, however they all were centered around Germany and sometimes France, never as far south as Italy. He sighed, unconsciously dreading the work to be done.

The train rattled down the tracks as Ludwig gazed out of the window. It had been a few hours since they left the Hauptbahnhof closest to the camp, and Gilbert was still attempting to inform Ludwig about the culture and journey there as well as trying to teach him some of the native language.

"Ciao."
"Hmf."

"Ludwig, ciao."

"…"
"Ludwig! C'mon! I know that you're semi-decent at languages, just give it a try."
"C-c-cheese."

Gilbert sighed, throwing his arms up and laying his head back. "I give up! You suck!" he exclaimed, making his brother stifle a smile. He seemed to sense it though, as Gilbert turned his head lazily towards the younger Beilschimdt. "Hey West."
"Hm."
"You do know what you're going to be doing in Italy, right?"

Ludwig had to use every drop of energy in his veins to keep himself from strangling his brother right then and there. He grit his teeth, his eyes narrowing into slits as he attempted to stave his anger. His brother's amused laughter at his reaction wasn't helping his temper either.
"Alright, alright. There's been rumors in a village that we have contacts in that there are threats of uprisings. We currently have that town in our control, but we don't want anything to spring up and ruin our plans." Ludwig sighed at the explanation. It was going to be one of those runs.

"So what am I supposed to do?" Gilbert shot him his best 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me-right-now' glares before answering.

"Do what you do best: Take accounts in a public space and take 'em down." His tone shifted as his eyes narrowed. "The last thing this country needs is an uprising." he spat to himself, glaring at the floor under his feet. Ludwig raised an eyebrow, but didn't question him. His brother was still a mystery to him, even though they spent the duration of their lives together. Gilbert sighed before looking up and forcing a smile. "Don't worry, our informants have a nice place picked out for you to eavesdrop in. I've heard that the food there's really good-"

Ludwig zoned out after that. As much as he loved his brother, he just needed time to dedicate to his thoughts at the moment. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window, his body crashing from the thoughts of the journey and allowing him to fall into a deep slumber.

"Keep your wits about you, Beilschimdt."

Ludwig jerked awake only to find himself still in the train with his brother snoring lightly near him. He sighed, running a hand down his face as he got up and stretched, trying to relieve his stiff limbs. He ghosted a smile of content when he heard popping. Ludwig glanced out of the window to find that the scenery was slowing down and that there were actually people popping up among the landscape. He sighed again before kicking his brother sharply in the shin. Gilbert jumped to his feet, startled and half-asleep before noticing that it was just Ludwig. He waved him off before grabbing Ludwig's luggage and exiting their seats, closely followed by his younger brother. As they wandered down the aisle, Ludwig could sense a rising feeling of tension coming from the man in front of him. Gilbert was uncharacteristically stiff, his posture too formal and his walk too sharp. Ludwig was about to point this out when Gilbert sharply turned right and exited the train. Heaving a sigh, Ludwig followed, immediately hit with the Italian air, much fresher and crisper than that of the stuffy train car. Ludwig closed his eyes contentedly, breathing in the delicious air. A short chuckle shocked him from his moment of euphoria.

"Gonna have sex with the air, West?" His brother joked, earning him some glances from nearby men and women rushing their children away from the strange men. Ludwig watched them go, sighing deeply.

"You're dead to me, Gilbert." His brother laughed in return to that remark.

"I know, baby brother." Ludwig groaned at that term, but graciously took his luggage from his brother anyways. A heavy silence fell over them, neither of them willing to part ways. Finally, Gilbert cleared his throat, looking slightly to the right of Ludwig. "Well, West, I guess that this is goodbye." Ludwig watched as pain flooded into his brother's eyes as he said those words, and he shook his head in response.

"Nein." Gilbert's gaze jerked back to his younger brother's face, his own draped in shock. Ludwig looked steadily at him before extending his hand. "Auf Wiedersehen, Bruder." He said quietly. Gilbert looked down at his outstretched hand before looking back up and engulfing his brother in a tight hug, causing him to drop his bag.

"Auf Wiedersehen. Viel glück." He mumbled into his shoulder. Ludwig paused before returning the hug.

"Du auch." With that, he separated himself from his older brother and took up his luggage, walking to the exit of the station. Before he left through the doors, he turned to look back at Gilbert. Gilbert lifted a hand in farewell before he was consumed in a swell of the crowd. Ludwig gazed at the space his brother had just been in before turning around and leaving the bustle of the station.

The damn car was late. Ludwig had been waiting here for exactly thirteen minutes and yet the stupid informant had the guts to delay him even further. He despised tardiness, and the situation was even worse as he was in a foreign country without any clue as to where exactly he was, and he couldn't exactly ask directions. Maybe he should have payed attention to Gilbert's lessons. Ludwig sighed, leaning his head on his hand and gazed out at the masses on the streets. They were making their way around, chattering seemingly to no end with each other and going about their lives as if there wasn't a war going on; as if their lives weren't in danger at any given second.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car's wheels screeching to a halt in front of where he was sitting and he recognized the vehicle from the description his brother gave him. With a hefty sigh, he pulled himself to his feet and towed his luggage to the car and opened the door, tossing the bag in before following after it.

"Where to, sir?" The person in the front seat asked. Ludwig paused as he tried to remember the answer that he was supposed to give. It was code, of course. Everything nowadays was.

"To the vegetable garden." He answered finally. The driver nodded and started the engine, tearing off to who-knows-where. Ludwig sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Traveling always drained him, especially when it involved going long distances on a train. Once again, he drifted off. He was always able to sleep better in a car than a train anyway.

"Sir, we're here." Ludwig jerked awake at the closeness of the voice before composing himself and grabbing his bag. He nodded at the driver in thanks before getting out, allowing them to close the door behind him and circle to the other side, getting in and driving off, leaving him utterly alone. Ludwig sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling some of what was left of the hair gel from the previous day come off and stick to his fingers. He quickly wiped his hand off on his leg before heading towards the entrance to the building the driver dropped him off at. It seemed like a quaint restaurant from the outside; he just had to hope that the wrong people decided to get a bite to eat.

Ludwig entered the building and was immediately greeted with the smell of cooking and the warmth of the building. It was busy, but it wasn't crowded. Italian chatter filled the air and coated it with a feeling of welcomeness. The atmosphere was homely and inviting, the walls were a pleasant red and the tables were a comfortably confined size to keep its occupants close. Ludwig took a deep breath before going to a vacant table near the window and taking out his notepad from his pocket, his eyes sharp and on the lookout for suspicious activity.

The day rounded to a close, and Ludwig yawned, attempting to go over his notes. "Mann in ein swartzes Hut, eine Frau mit gelben Blumen…nein." He sighed. All of this information was useless to him. He was just observing their behavior, not their conversations. Who knows, maybe they were acting normal for Italians. Yeah, that was probably the case. Ludwig was so invested in scolding himself mentally that he didn't notice a pair of golden eyes watching him from the kitchen window.

The sound of footsteps approaching him startled Ludwig out of his trance as he jerked his head towards the noise, very wary of their owner. A man with an apron on and black underneath walked towards him, a slightly nervous smile playing upon his lips and his golden eyes shining in the lights that lit up the restaurant. His copper hair had a strange curl jutting out to the left, but even stranger was the plate of steaming pasta that he carried with him. Ludwig was immediately on guard, suspecting the worst from this man.

As he neared the table, Ludwig tucked his notebook back into his jacket, clenching his jaw in anticipation. The man stopped about half a meter away before clearing his throat a little.

"Buongiorno!" He exclaimed, smiling brightly at the stunned German. Ludwig blinked a little in confusion, and the Italian, sensing his hesitation switched languages hastily. "Lo siento. Habla español?" A blank stare met him. The Italian scrunched up his nose in concentration, trying to think of any other languages. His face lit up and he snapped with his free hand. "Ah! Do you speak English?" Ludwig sighed and nodded. The man beamed as if he had won some sort of game. "Let's try this again! Hello and welcome!" Ludwig blinked at him. The man sighed, defeated. "Maybe you don't speak Engli-"
"Sorry, I'm just confused as to what you are doing." Ludwig interrupted. The man gave him a blank stare for a few seconds before remembering the plate of food in his hand. Immediately he became sheepish again.
"Uh, sorry. It's just, you know, you've been here all day without ordering anything and I thought, 'well maybe he didn't have any money to buy anything' and I thought that you must be hungry, what with being around food and not eating anything all day so I decided to make you something. I know it's not a lot, I just wanted to, well…here you go!" The Italian practically dumped the plate onto the table in front of Ludwig, who sat there without any real idea as to what to do. The man watched him intently, taking his hesitation as a sign of rejection. "I'm sorry, I knew that I should have asked you first, but no I just had to make you the pasta- I don't even know if you can eat pasta! Oh god, you're allergic, aren't you? Dammit! I'm so sorry!" The Italian plunked down into the chair across from Ludwig, putting his head into the palms of his hands. Ludwig was filled with a strong sense of confusion as to what the hell this man was blabbering about, but cautiously picked up a fork and began eating anyway. Hell, the guy was right. Being around food all day made him extremely hungry.

At the sight of the German eating the dish, the Italian perked up again. He cleared his throat a little. "Sorry for that. That wasn't a real introduction, now was it." He mumbled, leaning his weight onto his left hand, allowing the other to absentmindedly play with the edge of the tablecloth. Ludwig didn't answer him, making an effort to invest his concentration on the food. The pasta was extremely good: it was well balanced yet had a melody of flavors that played around on his tongue. Ludwig couldn't help but smile at the taste; it had been a while since he had food that was this amazing.

The Italian watched him with interest, still leaning his chin on his hand. The German finished the plate in record time and carefully placed the silverware in their respectable positions before looking up at the man across from him. Their eyes met briefly, golden ones gazing into the sharp blue ones of the German, the blue analyzing the gold. After shifting their gazes away from the awkward eye contact, the German spoke.

"Thank you for the meal." He placed his hands on top of the table, pushing up as he rose from his seat to leave. The Italian shook his head at him and gestured for him to sit back down. Ludwig wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. The man smiled a little at him, still gesturing at the chair.

"Consider it payment for the food." He said, looking at the German expectantly. Ludwig sighed and sat back down, pushing his empty plate to his left and out of the way. The Italian nodded before continuing. "So, what's your name?" Ludwig glared at the man across from him at the question, making him cower in response, putting his arms up in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. Uh, what were you doing here all day?" Ludwig knew that he couldn't state his actual reason, so he decided to steal the reason that the man gave to him.

"I was hungry." He said simply, looking out of the window. The sun had long since set, and there weren't any people left in the restaurant, save for himself, the strange man sitting across from him and a few elderly couples. The Italian hummed a little in response to Ludwig's answer, making the latter look over at him, immediately noticing that the Italian was still staring at him. "What?" The man shrugged.

"Nothing, it just looks like you're well fed. I was just wondering what had happened." Ludwig froze internally at that statement. The Italian felt as if he had crossed a line and quickly backtracked. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean any offense." Ludwig quickly came up with an excuse.

"No, it's alright. I was just kicked out of my house earlier this week after my brother left to go to the frontline." Only half of that was a lie, and the other was a painful truth. Ludwig looked down at his hands, immediately filled with a sense of worry for his brother. When he looked up, he saw the Italian looking at him with sympathy.

"I understand. Well, half of it at least." He looked down, a tense pause emerging. After a few seconds, he looked back up. "My brother also went to fight." He swallowed thickly. "That was a while ago, though. We haven't heard anything from him for a long time." He looked directly at Ludwig, who could feel the pain and worry overflowing from him. Ludwig blinked, unsure of what to do.

"I am sorry for you." He finally stated, as gently as he could manage. The man looked directly at him again, his sorrow a little more hidden.

"My name is Feliciano Vargas." He stated calmly, sticking his hand out, taking Ludwig a bit by surprise. Ludwig nodded and reached out to clasp his hand.

"Ludwig." Feliciano's eyes lit up.

"You're from Germany!" He exclaimed, seeming to be excited by this discovery. Ludwig looked a little confused, but nodded, letting go of Feliciano's hand. Feliciano grinned a little. "Makes sense that you can't speak Italian then." He said jokingly, getting up and grabbing Ludwig's dishes. Ludwig rose as well, but before he could leave, the Italian called out to him, "Hey Luddy, could you clean these tables for me, please?" Ludwig felt a wave of confusion flow over him, but made his way back over to the tables.

"It's Ludwig." Feliciano simply giggled at him before tossing him a rag and pointing to a bucket of soapy water near the door to the kitchen.

"The water's over there. Make sure that they're spotless! We have a reputation to uphold!" Ludwig tossed his jacket over the back of his chair before he brought the water over to the table that he was working on cleaning up, his face tightened with yet another wave of confusion.

"We?" He asked, dunking the rag into the water and wringing it out before slapping it onto the table, concentrating on making circular motions like he had seen his brother do countless times before. Feliciano smiled at him again, as if the answer was obvious.

"Yeah! You don't have a place to stay anymore, and you don't have any money to stay at a hotel with, so you can stay here!" Ludwig paused his washing to look at the Italian man with disbelief.

"You're giving me a place to stay."
"Yep!"

"As well as work."

"Yep!"

"Even though we just met."
"Uh-huh."
"And we know nothing about one another." Feliciano laughed at that.

"Exactly, now finish those tables. I'll be in the kitchen washing dishes if you need me." With that, Feliciano took the stack of dirty dishes through the door and clattered them into the sink and out of sight.

Ludwig sighed and looked back down at the table, scrubbing off some dried tomato sauce from the surface and moving to the next table as he attempted to wrap his mind around what the hell just happened. A strange man that works here offered him food, a job, and a place to stay. His fist clenched around the fabric of the rag, wringing out some of the sudsy liquid. But what for? There had to be a reason as to why he was treating him with such kindness, right? What did he want? It was already established that he didn't have any money, so it couldn't be that. Free labor? No, the man didn't seem the type. Why the hospitality? Why him? What made him different from every other person that came into the restaurant in the hopes to get some food to stave hunger? Not that he was particularly hungry anyways, and he had a place to fall back on, if he could find it. Ludwig exhaled deeply in a sigh before moving to the next table. He really should have payed more attention to his brother during the trip over. Suddenly Ludwig paused. His brother. They both had a brother that was sent to fight. Victoriously, Ludwig drowned the surface of the new table with water, almost giddy with the fact that he had figured it out. So giddy, that he didn't hear the footsteps of the man approaching or even noticed his presence until a light giggle sounded from directly behind him, making him jump and accidentally knock the bucket over. Ludwig sighed, looking at the mess before glaring at the man.

"It isn't polite to sneak up on people." He scolded, attempting to soak up the sudsy mess with his already drenched rag. Feliciano giggled again, before bending down next to him with his own rag. They pushed the water around the floor for a solid three minutes before Ludwig huffed in distaste. "This is unacceptable." he grumbled, pushing himself to a standing position. Feliciano simply looked up at him from the floor with a strong sense of humor in his eyes.

"There's a mop in the cabinet in the corner." He said finally, a smile pulling at his lips. Ludwig glared down at the Italian man before stalking off the retrieve the tool. He came back with it in hand, a scowl gracing his features. Feliciano looked up at his expression and his happiness dulled significantly, making him look back down and fiddle with the rag in his hand. Ludwig felt as if he did something wrong, so he silently began mopping up the mess, soaking up the water and then wringing it out into the bucket. Feliciano watched his movements, still sitting cross-legged in the puddle. Ludwig sighed when he saw the Italian sitting in the middle of the drenched floor.

"Feliciano, you're going to have to move." The man in question looked up, before nodding and getting up, taking their rags and disappearing through the kitchen door. Ludwig watched him go before putting all of his focus into sopping up the rest of the puddle. He was very out of character for himself: he allowed himself to get snuck up on by that man on more than one occasion, he was drowning in his thoughts, and he was doing housework for a person he barely even knew. Ludwig paused in his motions. Maybe if he got close enough to Feliciano, he could find out more about the events that are going on in this town. Hell, maybe Feliciano was part of the plans for the uprising. Ludwig resumed his motions, chuckling humorlessly to himself. Now that was a thought.

Once the water was completely vanished from the floor, Ludwig took the bucket back to its original position and put the mop back into its respective closet.

"Feliciano, the mess is gone." He called, standing in front of the door to the kitchen. A couple dishes clattered around, followed by something said in Italian before the mentioned man came out of the door, slightly damp with his hair a little out of place. Ludwig raised his eyebrow at the man's appearance, but said nothing. Feliciano attempted to smooth out his hair, instead making it worse in the process. It took every ounce of willpower that Ludwig had to not burst out laughing at the sight. Feliciano seemed to notice anyways, and his eyes lit up a little, reflecting the good humor. He clapped his hands together, and Ludwig noticed that he wasn't wearing his apron anymore, instead just wearing his button-up black dress shirt and black slacks. His shirt wasn't tucked in anymore, and he was missing his tie, instead had his shirt unbuttoned at the collar and the one underneath it, exposing part of his collarbones. Ludwig mentally raised an eyebrow at his appearance, but once again, said nothing. Feliciano smiled at him before gesturing for Ludwig to follow him.

"I'll show you where you'll be staying!" He trotted towards the opposite side of the restaurant to a door nearby the broom closet and took out a key that was around his neck, unlocking the door and stepping to the side, gesturing for Ludwig to enter through the doorway. Ludwig reluctantly did as he was told, and found a narrow stairway in front of him. Feliciano laughed at his hesitation, closing the door and locking it behind them before circling to be in front of the German and lead him up the stairs. When they reached the top, there was a landing that opened up to a decently-sized room with a few couches clustered in a corner and a table with chairs surrounding it to the left of them. The floors were wooden, yet partially covered with large, mismatched rugs that lay underneath the couches and table. There wasn't a very large kitchen, just a stovetop and an oven as well as a few cabinets and counters in the corner opposite the couches. There was a narrow hall across the room from the couches and the table, and it housed a few doors. Nearby the hall was a set of steep stairs that led to a trapdoor, and to what Ludwig assumed was the attic. Feliciano smiled a little, watching Ludwig soak up the apartment. "I know it's not much, but it houses fine." With that, he went into the kitchen and put the stove on, placing a kettle over the flame. "Care for some coffee?" He asked, opening up a cabinet and grabbing two mugs without waiting for an answer. Ludwig sighed a bit.

"I suppose." The Italian beamed at the answer and busied himself to make the drinks.

"You can have a seat, you know." He said when he looked over his shoulder to see that Ludwig was awkwardly standing in the middle of the living area. Ludwig nodded a little before heading towards the window and gazed out of it. He didn't notice it before, but it housed a window seat, covered with a cushion and myriad amounts of pillows. He placed a hand on top of the cushion and pressed down uncertainly. He heard a giggle from the other side of the room at his movements.

"It's perfectly safe, Ludwig." Feliciano said, heading over to the German with two steaming cups of coffee in hand. He offered one to Ludwig, who graciously took it and held it, the heat from the mug warming, his hands. Well, more like scalding. He jumped, accidentally spilling some of the dark liquid onto himself with a yelp as he desperately tried to grip the handle. This prompted Feliciano to burst out laughing, bending in half, and clutching his stomach at the sight of Ludwig having difficulty over a simple cup of coffee. Ludwig scowled at him before heading to the table and placing the cup down not-so-gently. Feliciano snorted at his movements again, before taking to the window bench and sitting in it gracefully, sipping on the hot liquid. Ludwig did his best to ignore him, instead reaching for the notebook in his jacket… his jacket that he left downstairs along with the medium-sized bag of his belongings.

Ludwig cursed to himself as he rose abruptly from the table, startling Feliciano from his place on the window bench. Ludwig mumbled an apology before heading down the stairs, only to find the door locked.

"Feliciano!" He yelled. "The door is locked! Unlock it!"

The Italian stumbled down the stairs as quickly as he could, coffee still in hand, though it was sloshing over the brim of the cup and burning his skin. He grit his teeth together to keep himself from crying out and met Ludwig at the bottom, fumbling for the key around his neck. He glanced up at the German's face and was met with the sight of stony determination, and it scared him. Ludwig was glaring a hole in the lock, seeming to threaten it open with his thoughts. Feliciano swallowed thickly as he felt his body temperature drop, and he shakily unlocked the door in front of him. Ludwig burst through it as soon as it clicked, the key still in the lock, and made his way into the main eating area. Feliciano yelped as he was pulled with the momentum of the door, causing him to get knocked off balance and slam his face into the wood, the rest of his coffee scalding his right arm as he landed hard on the ground.

Ludwig had grabbed his bag and jacket when he heard the cry, and turned around to find Feliciano on the floor, gripping the side of his face. Ludwig froze. Cautiously, he approached the anxious Italian, who turned his face away from him and stood up, grabbing the key quickly from the door and spinning on his heel, rushing up the stairs to the apartment area. Ludwig sighed, closing the door behind him as he followed Feliciano's path and found him huddled in the window bench, his face turned towards the window and cradling his arm. Ludwig grabbed a chair from the dining table and dragged it over to where the Italian was curled up, pointedly ignoring him.

"Feliciano." He said finally, sitting down and leaning forward, his forearms pressed against his thighs. The Italian said nothing, continuing to stare at the window. Ludwig sighed, guilt bubbling up in his stomach. This man had offered him food, a place to stay and a job, and within the first hour of his residence he had already managed to hurt him. Ludwig took a deep breath. "Feliciano, I'm-"

"You're a soldier, aren't you." Ludwig froze at the accusation. He had managed to be found out so quickly? By a restaurant employee? Feliciano turned to look at him, and Ludwig could clearly see a small gash on the side of his face, the area around it slightly swollen and bruising. However, it was his eyes that caused a twinge of sorrow in Ludwig's chest:

they weren't disappointed, or angry, they were just fearful.

Ludwig ducked his head to avoid his gaze, allowing his silence to answer Feliciano's question. The Italian sighed, and Ludwig could feel their eyes burning across his body. Finally, he looked up and caught a glimpse of Feliciano's arm, still cradled and turning redder by the minute. Ludwig got up, thankful for the welcome distraction as he started searching the kitchen for a first aid kit, or at least bandages. Finally finding it in a lower cabinet buried behind five thousand pots, he arose and grabbed a cloth, soaking it in cold water and grabbing a bowl and filling it with the water as well before heading back over to the Italian, who was watching him curiously. Ludwig tried his best to ignore the fact that he was staring at him as he attempted to clean the cut on Feliciano's face. Feliciano flinched away from the contact, scrunching his face up with pain. Ludwig rolled his eyes.

"Feliciano, you're going to need to stay still." The Italian groaned a little, but obeyed his orders, flinching every now and then when the cloth rubbed his tender skin a little too harshly. "Sorry, sorry." Ludwig murmured, finally lowering the cloth to look at the damage that was dealt.

Feliciano has a fairly deep gash in the left side of his face, deeper than Ludwig originally anticipated. The German sighed. That was probably going to need stitches. He left that thought be, however, and moved onto the Italian's arm, dipping the warming cloth into the bowl of cold water. Feliciano hissed at the contact when Ludwig placed the cloth gently onto his blistering skin.

"Talk to me." He growled, making Ludwig look up at his face in confusion.

"What?" The Italian's face was contorted in pain, his arm slightly shaking.

"Talk to me, distract me, crapola this hurts." He winced, trying to take his arm out from under the cloth. Ludwig sighed, and decided to ease his curiosity as well as help out this guy.

"Fine. How did you know that I was a soldier?" Yes, he knew that he just admitted to being a German soldier, however he didn't need to tell Feliciano which branch. He had some sense of confidentiality. Feliciano sighed and looked down, not wanting to meet the German's gaze. Not that he could, as said German was intensely focused on staring down Feliciano's arm to avoid his gaze as well.

"Easily enough." He mumbled. Ludwig looked up again in confusion, but Feliciano had kept his gaze down, his hair fallen into his face. "My family has been in fights, wars, battles and the like as far back as I can remember. I know the look. My brother had it before he left, my mother and father had it before they died, my grandfather had it when he came back." He laughed a little to himself. "My brother's best friend was scared half to death when he saw it. He begged Lovi not to go because he never wanted to see that look again." Ludwig noticed the change in demeanor in Feliciano when he mentioned his brother's friend, so he decided to go down that path.

"Who is your brother's friend?" He asked, a lot gentler than he wanted it to be. He cringed inwardly at his own tone of voice, but Feliciano perked up immediately.

"His name's Antonio, though everyone calls him Toni, except for Lovi of course. But Lovi's a bit of an ass sometimes, so he refuses to admit that he is even friends with Toni, and he's so blind! Anyone alive can see how he feels about my brother!" He laughed again, he face brightening up. "Toni works here, too! Well, the only reason he did it originally was to get closer to my brother, but he ended up falling in love with the place, as anyone would! But he's not in right now, he's been gone for a week to do training or something. He should be back soon though!"

Ludwig's face scrunched up. This 'Toni' guy had a thing for Feliciano's brother? But that would make him-

"He's gay." He said shortly, looking up at Feliciano. The Italian froze, not having any desire to speak. Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "You said that he likes your brother." Feliciano immediately waved his hands around frantically, paying no attention to the fact that his arm hurt like hell.

"No, no! I didn't say anything like that! You misunderstood me! I meant that-"

"Hola Feli!" The sound of a door closing was followed by a cheerful voice that had called from downstairs, making both of them freeze. They listened intensely to the footsteps as they approached the stairs, pushing the door open. "Dios mio, Feli, you left the door open!" The same voice said, closer this time. The two people near the window bench looked at each other with uncertainty as they heard the person climbing the stairs towards them. Finally, a figure reached the top of the stairs, immediately seeing the two of them.

The man was decently tall, and well built at that. Not bulky, but definitely toned. His skin displayed many hours working in the sun, and his hair was a dark, curly mat at the top of his head. His eyes were a gentle green, however they hardened immediately when he saw Ludwig frozen in place.

"Who the hell are you." He growled, making his way over to the pair. His eyes narrowed further when he saw the Italian's arm. "What the hell have you done to Feli?" Feliciano chuckled nervously.

"This is Ludwig, Toni! He's going to be staying here and working with us!" 'Toni' looked over at Ludwig and dragged his gaze up and down his body, obviously judging him. He looked back at Feliciano expectantly. Feliciano laughed anxiously again before continuing. "I spilled coffee on myself and ran into a door, it's fine! Complete accident!" Antonio raised his eyebrow before sighing and ruffled the Italian's hair affectionately.

"You really need to be more careful." He mumbled, making Feli giggle. He looked back over at Ludwig, all ice in his gaze completely melted away. "I'm Antonio! Welcome to the team!" He beamed, sticking out his hand towards Ludwig. Ludwig carefully took it, still thinking about what Feliciano had said earlier.

"Ludwig." He said, releasing his hand before looking at Feliciano sideways. The Italian gave him a nervous smile before he yelped, getting dragged to his feet by a certain Antonio.

"Toni! Stop! I'm fine!" He laughed as Antonio was intensely staring down the cut in his face. Toni simply rolled his eyes before grabbing the first aid kit and dragged him down the hallway, Feliciano complaining the entire way.

Ludwig arose when they closed themselves into a room, walking over to his coat and pulled out his notebook, turning to a new page. Grabbing a pen from his pocket he scratched down what may have been the first lead he'd gotten since arriving:

Antonio ?

Ethnicity: likely Spanish

In shape, built

Gone for a week due to 'training'

Works for Vargas

Homosexual