Chapter 1

Lovino fell forwards, landed roughly on the cement floor with an umph as all the air was forced out of his lungs with the impact. This did not dissuade him, though; as soon as he landed, he twisted around to look back at the people who had thrown him. He was on his feet in a second, though it was a second too late; the iron bars of the prison slammed shut, trapping him inside. He screamed with anger, gripped the bars and shook them violently, though they hardly moved. "Who the hell do you think you are, you bastards?" He shouted, though it was pointless; the soldiers were already too far away to care about what he said.

Southern Italy growled, holding his forehead in his hand, and moved off to one of the walls, slunk down it. "Damn those Britons," he murmured, rubbing the part of his chest he had landed on.

"Fratello?" A frail voice called from the other side of the cell. Lovino squinted – he could barely see through the darkness. "Fratello, is that you?"

He knew that voice; he'd know it anywhere, 'till the day he died. "Feliciano," he called, directing his younger brother to the sound of his voice. "I'm here. It's me."

"Fratello, fratello!" Feliciano cheered, somehow finding him instantly and engulfing him in a tight hug. Lovino grunted – his chest still hurt, he thought he had broken it sometime in battle, or when he was thrown in the cell – but said nothing against his little brother. He adored him too much to do that, even though he always kept up a tough exterior.

"It's alright, I'm here, stop crying, brat," Lovino murmured, hugging Feliciano back as the younger cried.

"T-the food is so bad here, fratello!" Feliciano whined, causing Lovino to sigh. He should have known it would have been about the quality of the food and not the fact that he was being imprisoned. "A-and I only get two meals a day, and no pasta!" The younger continued to cry a river onto Lovino's jacket.

Lovino sighed. "How long have you been here?" He whispered into his brother's ear, trying to divert the younger from the 'worst' of his problems.

Feliciano's cries slowed a little as he thought of something other than the lack of food. "P-probably two or three days…"

Anger flared within Lovino's chest. How dare someone hold his dear little brother for so long, without what he needed to live and be happy? Che palle!

Northern Italy sniffled once more, gripped Southern Italy's jacket tightly, as though it – and Lovino himself – would simply fade away if he did not hold on tightly enough. "B-but," Feliciano sniffed once more, aligned his eyes with Lovino's, "I'm glad you're here with me, fratello…You always make me feel better…" Feliciano rested his head against Lovino's throbbing chest, finally calm.

"Why haven't you called the potato-sucking bastard?"

"Don't call Germany that!" Feliciano objected feebly. He continued and answered Lovino's question. "They wouldn't let me call out for help, and I have nothing to convince them otherwise…"

"Tsk," Lovino responded. "Damn those tasteless Briton bastards!" He yelled the last, at the top of his lungs, hoping somewhere a Brit was sneezing.

"Sssshhhhhh!" Feliciano urged, lying a finger on Lovino's lips. "Please, fratello, don't make them angry. It's bad enough that they…" Feliciano let his voice drift off, presumably deep in thought.

Anger began to bubble within Lovino at the thought of what the soldiers could have done to his little brother. "It's bad enough that they what?" He urged, the anger in his voice sounding like it was directed at his brother, who began to cry again. "What did they do to you?" Lovino roared, grabbing Feliciano's shoulders tightly.

The tears were flowing down Feliciano's face freely once more. "P-please, fratello, you're hurting me! I'll tell you, I'll tell you! But please let go!"

Lovino let go instantly, barely aware of what he had done to his little brother, and shocked he had done it. Feliciano took a moment to calm down, then went up to his brother's ear and whispered just what the soldiers had done to him.

Southern Italy's fist clenched in raw anger, his arms shook with the effort it took just to keep them from swinging at someone.

"Fratello, fratello, please, fratello…" Feliciano took Lovino's face in his hands, rested his forehead against his older brother's. "Please, it's alright now, I'm okay, I promise."

Lovino took deep, calming breaths, and slowly his trembling began to steady. "Feliciano," he whispered, gently cupping his brother's face in his hands as his brother did to him, "I can't let them go unpunished…"

"You must, fratello," Northern Italy whispered. "Please, fratello, I'm fine. It was only once…All I need is you right here to protect me…Please, god, please don't kill them." Tears were running down Feliciano's face once more.

Lovino had always thought of his little brother as an angel, and of himself as a devil. His little brother was the one praying for the souls of those he did not know, his brother was the voice of reason when he could no longer control himself. Lovino, on the other hand, was hot-tempered and quick to exact vengeance. Feliciano was level-headed and able to reason more. They balanced one another perfectly; the embodiment of the Vatican and the face of the Mafia.

Now, Lovino's Mafia days were burning just behind his eyes, blood splattering and gunshots firing in his mind's eye. He was back a century, to a time where the unjust truly got what was coming to them.

How could Feliciano have mercy for someone who had defiled him so? How could he sit there a beg Lovino not to kill the sorry bastard?

His fratellino was simply too pure.

Lovino swallowed, hard, thinking things over and trying to fight down his violent instincts. "W-what do we do then?" His amber eyes focused on his brothers, which were the exact same color. It was the only trait they shared.

Feliciano kissed his cheeks. "We wait."

They fell asleep in each other's arms like that. This was not common between them, but Lovino felt the occasion called for it. Besides, there was no one around that new them, or that would live to call them out about it on a later date.

Lovino had stayed up longer than Feliciano, thinking things over. He vowed that, when they managed to get out of there, every last fucking Brit was going to pay. No one was making it out alive. Even if he had to knock his brother out beforehand, he was going to do it. There was just no way he could let any one of those mother fuckers live to see another day.

They were awoken some time later from the sound of the iron bars opening. Lovino's grip on his little brother tightened; he could hear Feliciano whimpering, could feel him gripping tighter, too. "I won't let them hurt you again," Lovino whispered in Feliciano's ear as the door opened.

Lovino turned on the stranger, then. "Get the fuck out of here, you bastard!"

"Is that really how you welcome your rescuers?" Ludwig responded.

Jesus. It was that potato-sucking bastard. It wasn't the best rescue party, but they were rescued.

"Germaaaannnyyy!" Feliciano cried. He abandoned his brother and attacked Ludwig with a hug, and then, to Lovino's astonishment, a flat out, lip-on-lip (and maybe some tongue) kiss.

"N-not here, Italia…" Ludwig stammered.

"You potato-sucking bastard!" Lovino screeched, jumping to his feet. "What have you done to my sweet little brother?" He went in for the kill, but Feliciano stepped between them.

"Fratello, no!" He pleaded. "Germany and Veneziano are…together!" His younger brother smiled happily and grabbed one of Ludwig's hands, swinging it cheerily.

Lovino approached his brother, hands in his back pockets, a quizzical expression on his face. "So you're - ?"

"Yes!" Feliciano answered with a smile.

"-crazy?" Lovino finished the way his sentence was supposed to be finished.

Feliciano fell over.

"We don't have time for this, you two!" Ludwig intervened as Feliciano stood again, wiping himself off a bit. "Spain's waiting – "

"Spain?" Lovino interrupted, heart fluttering.

Why was his heart fluttering?

No matter.

"Ludwig, I have to speak with you about something urgent." Ludwig and Lovino both turned to Feliciano, who gloomily took a few steps back.

Scrunching his nose in distaste, Lovino stepped closer to Ludwig and whispered, "Feliciano was raped here by one of the soldiers." He could see Ludwig fuming, even before he had finished the sentence, so he hastily continued, "And I'm not going to stand for it, no matter what he says. You get him outside, and let me borrow your gun."

Ludwig nodded without taking time to think, handed Lovino his 9mm. "Hurry up, we don't have long. Spain and I snuck in here, so no one knows yet…except for the guard down the hall we knocked unconscious. Don't be stupid."

"Yeah," Lovino murmured, then moved off in pursuit.

Another Brit was pulled out of his chair and thrown onto the floor. Lovino walked over to him calmly, stood on his collarbone so that he could not escape in any way, and pointed the gun at the man's forehead. Before the last of the Britons in the building could plead his case, Lovino fired a round into the man's skull, hitting him directly between the eyes. Blood splattered up with the impact, though it didn't make much difference; Lovino was already covered in it, especially on his chest, face, and shoes.

Feeling justified, Lovino calmly made his way outside, where Spain and the rest would be waiting for him. He had one round left in the 9mm, but he threw it to the ground as he walked out anyway. It was habit.

He climbed into the backseat of their getaway car, which was being driven by Spain. Ludwig sat in the passenger's seat, and Feliciano was behind Spain, crying, which only intensified when he saw Lovino's newly-redecorated clothing.

As Spain stepped on the gas, Feliciano wailed, "Fratello! You promised! You promised you wouldn't do anything!"

"Hush," Lovino commanded, opening his arms wide. Feliciano, who seemed to not notice the blood all over him, rushed into his embrace, burying his face in Lovino's chest and sobbing profusely. "It's all better now," Lovino comforted, holding his brother. "everything's gonna be alright now."


Fratello - Brother

Fratellino - Little Brother

Che Palle - What balls

Riscatto (title) - Redemption

This is supposed to be a SpainxRomano fic...Don't worry, it will turn into one soon! :D How's it so far? :)