Auf Wiedersehen Sweetheart

Chapter 9

Feliciano knew, somewhere in the back of his grief stricken mind, that he had to get up. He had to get up from where he knelt on the wet ground, had to go home, had to tell his brother and his grandfather that he had betrayed them. He had to go and face his fate. Feliciano knew he had to get up - but it was impossible to move, the rain and his grief and the whole world crushing him down. It was impossible to move when all he wanted was to lie in the cold, drenching downpour until he no longer felt anything at all.

A massive crack of thunder tore through the sky, but Feliciano did not jump. Instead he smiled to himself as he remembered Lovino's threat. The thunder sounded like a gunshot. Finally Feliciano forced himself to his feet, shaking the rain and the tears from his eyes. He could not make things right again. He could not undo what he had done. But he could damn well face the consequences.

The lights were on ahead as Feliciano walked up the narrow lane to his house. He could not bring himself to run. He was still dazed, still numb. He had destroyed everything the resistance had worked towards, everything they had risked and lost their lives for. He had put Lovino and Grandpa and Antonio, the people he cared most about in the entire world, in serious danger. Because of him the Germans would know about the landing, because of him the whole plan was ruined. But what did any of that matter. Ludwig thought he was an enemy who had been working against him. Ludwig hated him. Feliciano stumbled on the road and almost fell. The wind-blown rain blinded him. But he didn't care. He would never see Ludwig again. Nothing meant anything anymore. All he could do was confess what he had done, and accept the inevitable result.

Feliciano called out as soon as he pushed through the front door. "Lovino? Grandpa? I need to speak to..." He broke off abruptly. Antonio backed away from Lovino so quickly he stumbled over a chair and crashed backwards into the wall. Lovino practically fell off the table before straightening up and glaring angrily, his face red and his breathing heavy.

"Feliciano! You should knock before..." Lovino blinked as he took in Feliciano's soaking clothes and tear stained face. His glare quickly disappeared. "Feliciano?"

Faced with his brother's concerned expression, his worried eyes, all of Feliciano's resolve melted to nothing. He ran across the room and threw his arms around Lovino. For just one moment, before he destroyed everything, before Lovino found out what he had done and hated him forever, Feliciano wanted to hold his brother one last time. Lovino slowly placed his arms around Feliciano. "Feli, you're scaring me. What's wrong?" Feliciano tried to answer but could not speak through his sobs. Lovino sighed softly. "You went to see him, didn't you?" Feliciano could only nod. Lovino rubbed his back gently. "I'm sorry, Feli, I really..."

"I'm so sorry, Lovino." Feliciano whispered it, almost unconsciously, so softly he was not sure Lovino had heard him. But Lovino immediately froze in Feliciano's hold. After a long, deafening, terrible silence, Lovino slowly grasped Feliciano's shoulders and pushed him away to arms length. He looked terrified.

"Sorry?" Feliciano could hear the suppressed fear and apprehension in Lovino's voice. "Sorry for what?"

Feliciano reluctantly broke out of Lovino's grasp and backed up into the table behind him. How was he ever going to say this? How was he supposed to tell his brother that he had betrayed him, betrayed the Resistance, betrayed his country? His eyes flicked briefly to Antonio who stood silent, still, watching him with worried eyes. Feliciano tried to prepare himself to break his world apart. He lowered his head and whispered the words. "I told him."

Silence. The room was thick with it. It was accusing him, crushing him. It lasted far too long. Terrified, Feliciano forced himself to look up at Lovino. Feliciano had seen his brother angry. It was a pretty common occurrence, after all. He'd seen him livid with wrath and white with boiling rage. And yet he had never seen him like this. Like he was at the very edge of fury, like it was taking Lovino every ounce of willpower to keep from exploding.