Feliciano didn't dare to open his eyes. All he could feel was pain. Every inch of his body had been struck or scraped against the ground at least once in the past twenty minutes. He didn't know what he did to deserve it. He never knew what he did to deserve it. This time, however, was different. It usually didn't last long. This time they weren't stopping. If anyone had walked by, they didn't care. Feliciano felt a sharp pain shoot through his ribcage and began to cough and sputter. He cried out, only to be met with a series of vulgar insults. Honestly, he knew better. No amount of crying would make them show and sort of mercy towards him.

He wasn't sure how many of them there were. It had started off with there being three. Was it only two now? Could there be four? All he knew is that he was outnumbered and fighting back wouldn't help him. He had already begged them to stop, but it seemed as though his pleas only made it worse. The first time he tried they kicked him in the mouth. He heard them laughing. Something collided with the back of his skull and his vision blurred. His cheek scraped against the pavement he was pressed to. There were stars now. Finally. He thought. If he blacked out it wouldn't hurt; at least not until he woke up.

Suddenly, he heard a new voice shouting. Feliciano couldn't make out what anyone was saying since they were all yelling at once. It sounded like someone fell, and someone else kicked Feliciano again, this time it was a blow to the back. There was more screaming. A loud clattering of footsteps went off in all directions and angry conversation filled the air. There was a series of violent-sounding noises, then a final flurry of running before everything went quiet. He couldn't move at first, he didn't want to. It was over. Finally, it was over. Maybe he had died, at that point he wasn't sure.

This delusion was shattered when he felt something touch his shoulder. Feliciano opened his eyes, wincing. All the pain came flooding back. His cheek burned and his head felt like someone had put a knife through it. He tried desperately to catch his breath despite how painful it actually was to breathe, his eyes brimming with tears as he coughed. His throat was on fire. He saw a figure in front of him despite his dizziness. The figure had blonde hair and a strong upper body, looking down to examine Feliciano.

Feliciano threw up his hands in defeat and tried his best to twist away from him. He didn't think his body could take anymore beating. "Please…" he said, squeezing his eyes shut again.

"Relax." The person said, "I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was deep and gruff, topped off with a slight German accent. Something about his voice relaxed Feliciano. He didn't sound angry, for one thing. Really, his tone didn't hold much of any emotion.

Feliciano finally opened his eyes to look at him. The man, or should he say boy since he was wearing the same school uniform he was, was huge in stature. The white button down he wore seemed to be straining to stretch over his upper arms and chest. His blonde hair was slicked back with a few strands hanging in his eyes, which were just as blue as they were serious.

"Who are you?" Feliciano asked. His entire body shook with fear.

"My name is Ludwig Beilschmidt." He responded, pushing his stray hairs back. "Now where does it hurt?"

"Huh?"

"Where are you in pain?" He asked. His eyes ran up and down Feliciano's form like he was analyzing him.

Feliciano began to believe he really had lost consciousness, because nothing about this situation seemed like it could be anything besides a dream. Not only had this complete stranger saved him, but he was now concerned with his wellbeing. Feliciano hesitated before gesturing to his sides.

"I think I was kicked here a lot." He winced in pain as he pressed his ribs lightly. "And my head…"

"They hit you with a rock." Ludwig said, cutting him off. "I got here right after it happened, I apologize that I couldn't stop it."

Feliciano looked at him with a dumbfounded, empty expression. What did this guy care? If anything, he expected him to join the guys who were beating him up. Judging by his build, he certainly could have. He lurched back instinctively when Ludwig pressed on his side.

"Nothing seems broken. Now are you nauseous? Do you feel dizzy?"

Breaking away from the trance his eyes had forced him into; Feliciano paused to access his injuries. "No, not anymore at least."

"I just thought you were at risk for a concussion. I suppose you weren't hit hard enough." He said. For a moment after, he paused. "I suppose I should learn your name."

"Feliciano Vargas." He looked at Ludwig for a moment. He searched for evidence of him having ulterior motives, but found none in his worried face. "Why are you doing this?" He blurted, regretting it almost before he said it.

Ludwig sighed and broke eye contact. "I've been in your position." Feliciano looked to him wide-eyed, silently contemplating what he could mean by that. But Feliciano didn't have time to ask questions, since he quickly changed the subject. "Let's clean up your cuts." He said as he stood.

Ludwig looked at him for a moment. Feliciano was just able to sit up and was only beginning to fully grasp what was going on. Realizing this, Ludwig helped him get up and walk to his car. He opened the door and gestured for Feliciano to sit, then went to his trunk and got a small first aid kit. When he opened it and retrieved a Band-Aid, he looked at Feliciano like he was asking for permission.

Feliciano stared back at him. He was uneasy at first to let this stranger touch him, but he nodded anyway. He couldn't exactly leave the wounds open. He soon relaxed when he realized Ludwig had a gentle touch. That wasn't what he had expecting, judging by his size. Looks really can be deceiving, he supposed. It wasn't until he was halfway through bandaging him that Ludwig spoke again.

"May I ask what prompted this?" Ludwig asked as he peeled the back of a Band-Aid.

Feliciano wasn't sure if he had an answer for that. He was never quite sure what started these things. They just kind of happened. "I guess it was my fault, I shouldn't have walked out the back entrance. They usually hang out there I mean, so I probably could have avoided it." He said.

Ludwig paused to look at him before continuing. "Who's 'they'?"

"Just some guys I know. They don't like me too much…" He trailed off. Feliciano could have elaborated, but he was too tired to even attempt to explain what had happened. It would take forever.

"So you did nothing to offend them."

Feliciano shook his head. Ludwig sighed. "I thought so." He said as he finished with his first aid project. "Would you like a ride home?"

He looked at him for a few moments. Nobody besides his own brother had been this nice to him in ages. Doubt rose in his chest. "How do I know you're not going to hurt me?" He asked.

Ludwig looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Why would I hurt you if you've done nothing to hurt me?"

Feliciano smiled weakly. He was glad someone still had that mentality. "Okay. Thanks, Mr. Stranger." He said.

The ride passed in comfortable silence. When the car came to a halt in front of his house, Feliciano reached for the door handle.

"Wait." Ludwig said. Feliciano froze and watched as he pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket and jotted something down on it. He handed it to him, and Feliciano realized it was a phone number. He stared vacantly at the numbers like he didn't know what they meant. When he didn't say anything, Ludwig continued.

"Feliciano, if anyone gives you trouble or you need something, I would like you to be contact me." His eyes and voice were free of any kind of sarcasm.

Feliciano starred at Ludwig blankly before quickly nodding and getting out of the car, muttering a few extra words of thanks. As soon as the vehicle was out of sight and he was alone with himself, Feliciano became painfully aware of what had happened to him. Again.

He unlocked the door to his house and let go the second it closed. Unable to fight it back any longer, he leaned against the door and started to cry. He cried because of the pain. He cried because this wasn't the first it had happened and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He cried until his eyes stung and his throat ached with stale sobs. Everyday, it was something new. There was always someone hell-bent on ruining Feliciano's day, someone who seemed to have it out for him for no reason at all.

Feliciano realized that crying wouldn't help. After allowing himself a minute to breakdown, he took a series of deep breaths and did his best to calm down. Everything was okay, at least for now. He was still in a lot of pain, but it wasn't as bad now that he was bandaged. Positivity was essential at that moment.

He focused on that fact that he was grateful for the silence and solitude; finally a place where he could afford to show weakness. Things had been pretty quiet since Lovino left for college. This was a good thing, he supposed. It had been getting harder and harder to conceal his injuries and act cheery when he was around. Still, Feliciano missed having someone to talk to. His older brother had been more or less his only friend throughout the duration of his childhood. All his other friends had eventually turned on him in one way or another, either because of peer pressure or just because they could.

Although, now there was Ludwig… Feliciano shook his head, trying to get the ridiculous thought out of his head. It was very likely he'd never see him again. He probably had just felt sorry for him. It would be best if he forgot Ludwig existed.

Ignoring his better judgment he reached into his pocket and freed the scrap of paper. It couldn't hurt just to save the number, right? Tentatively, he reached for his cellphone, switched it on and added the number to his contacts. This brought his number of contacts to a grand total of three- Lovino, Grandpa Roma, and now Ludwig.

He slumped down to the floor and stared at the numbers on the glowing little screen. In a moment of madness, he considered calling Ludwig just to thank him again. As soon as he caught himself Feliciano shook his head and reminded himself to forget him. He needed to get his mind off of this. Feliciano cleared his throat, wiped his eyes and called Lovino. He pressed the phone to his ear and listened to the ringing. After three rings, there was an answer.

"Pronto."

Feliciano smiled into the empty room upon hearing his brother's low voice. "It's me." He said.

"Feliciano! Is everything ok?"

"I just wanted to say hi."

"Alright, I can't talk for too long though. I have a late class to go to. Is school going ok?"

Feliciano bit the inside of his lip. He was never the best liar. "Yeah, I'd say it's alright. Same as usual." That wasn't a lie. It was the same as it usually was. He chuckled halfheartedly, hoping that would be convincing enough.

Lovino, however, didn't sound very convinced. "Are you sure? Your voice sounds off." He said, suspicion hanging in his voice.

"Allergy season." He stammered, "Yes, I'm sure. Everything is fine here, boring really! It was a lot more fun when you were around. It's pretty fun not having to live by anyone's rules, but I miss you!"

Lovino sighed. "I'm still not sure about you living alone, Feliciano. You're only sixteen. I can't believe Grandpa Roma is allowing this."

Feliciano had trouble believing that himself, but he didn't let it show. "Ah, come on fratellone. Give me some credit. I think I'm old enough to take care of myself." That was definitely a lie. Lovino had left for college in the fall, and their grandfather had been living in Italy for a couple of years because of their work. Feliciano was originally to go join him there after Lovino left, but after much debate he was allowed to stay at the house with support from his grandfather.

Lovino had been even more against it than anyone. He had made it explicitly clear that he thought there was no way his little brother was in any way ready for it, and he was probably right. Really, Feliciano had wanted to go. It would have been an escape from all the problems at school, but he didn't want to run away. More than anything, he wanted to prove to his family that he wasn't the baby they always saw him as.

"Well, if you change your mind we can always make arrangements. I have to go now, but call me if you need something, ok? Take care of yourself, fratellino."

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Feliciano really needed to hear his big brother's voice again after what had happened. Although, he needed to make him believe that he was doing okay. The last thing Lovino needed in college was to worry about his weak baby brother's safety. He sighed, flipped the phone closed and placed it in his pocket.

Now, it was his favorite time of the day. Feliciano put a CD in the stereo and filled the house with beautiful Italian music that reminded him of home. He retreated to the basement in a flurry, flipped on the lights and was greeted by dozens upon dozens of his own paintings.

Landscapes, people, sometimes even complete nonsense- he loved them like children. Each was a representation of how he was feeling that day or a significant event in his life. His art gave him a much-needed escape. Painting gave him freedom, took him into a different world that he controlled, allowing him to create everything and anything with the stroke of a brush.

Feliciano sat down in front of a blank canvas. He hummed along to the music as prepped, and the horrendous day at school beginning to melt away. His injuries seemed to hurt less, and his loneliness was erased as he began putting paint to paper. Usually, he had no idea what he was going to paint before he started. Sometimes, he still had little idea even when he was finished. He simply went with his muse, and whatever happened, happened.

He began painting the outline of a body with no specific end in sight. The music got to a considerably emotional verse and Feliciano sang along, his confidence in his work growing his every stroke. He was in his zone, almost oblivious to everything else. Not in pain, not worrying…he wasn't even giving much thought to what he was doing. After a good half hour of this, Feliciano returned to reality and stopped painting to examine what he had accomplished. He had come up with what appeared to be a male angel with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a muscular build-

Feliciano smacked his forehead. Starring back at him was the splitting image of Ludwig, as an angel. What's even worse is he wasn't even trying to paint Ludwig, it just kind of happened. How creepy is that? He'd spent thirty minutes with the guy and maybe had a two-sentence conversation. Even so, he had remembered every detail of what Ludwig looked like.

Slicked back hair, stern eyes, wide shoulders, even the way his shirt stretched over his upper body- it was all there, mocking him from the canvas. Feliciano got over his shock and chuckled. Really, it was kind of funny. How silly it was to still be thinking of this stranger. He cleaned his brush and headed upstairs, leaving the canvas behind.

To Be Continued...