Though he never hid how worried he was, Antonio didn't hinder Lovino from going to work. The reporter was glad for it, since the boredom of being trapped in his home was suffocating him. He did however; try to convince him to stay home nearly every day. Whether it was by the promise of a good meal or shameless showering of affection, he relentlessly gave Lovino reasons to skip work. Up until now he'd ignored him, finding the man's gestures humorous and endearing, but not enough to keep him from the call of news, and his thirst for productivity.

It must have been a Spanish thing, he thought as he watched the man from his kitchen window. Antonio was crouched by his pepper plants, pulling out the young weeds that were growing there before they could become a hassle, all the while singing softly to himself in Spanish.

Lovino felt his heart warm at the sight, and he was glad he'd stayed home that day. It was a combination of the warm, humid air and the lack of sun that convinced him to give in and skip work. There was bound to be a thunderstorm that day, and it'd been years since he'd had the time to sit and watch one.

His feet took him out of the kitchen outside, then towards the garden. Antonio turned at the sound of his footsteps, a wide grin already on his face.

"So you decided to stay home today after all, mi amor?"

Lovino felt a blush spread across his face. They were more or less in a relationship, but they'd yet to explicitly define it, and though he was beginning to grow accustomed to it, the Spaniard's affections would still leave him flustered.

"I wanted to watch the lightning." He said, pointing up. Antonio stood and walked towards him, taking off his gardening gloves and dropping them behind him.

"I'm sure the storm will start before the hour's out." He said, offering him a hand, "Would you like to watch it together?"

Lovinio raised an eyebrow as he took his hand. "Is there any other reason for me to be out here?"

Antonio smiled, and in one, swift move fell on his back in the green grass, taking Lovino with him.

"What do you think you're doing, bastard?" He asked as he landed nearly completely on top of the Spaniard. Antonio only grinned.

"We're going to watch the storm, aren't we?"

An idea came to Lovino's mind, one that would surely wipe the smug look off of the man's face. Bracing his elbow on the ground, and tangling his other hand in the man's collar, he pulled him up into a deep, passionate kiss.

Antonio froze for a moment, but his smile only widened against Lovino's lips as he returned the kiss. Their movements soon dissolved into the rhythm they'd come to learn over their week alone together. Slowly, thoroughly, and by some standards lazily they kissed. It could have lasted minutes or hours, but they didn't keep track of time, only breaking away when raindrops began to hit their skin.

"You're going to miss the storm, Lovi." Antonio said, pulling back.

"Damn right I will." Lovino responded, pressing their lips together again as thunder cracked above them.

It was only once it had begun to pour that he pulled completely away, rolling to the Spaniard's side and taking his hand in his, using his other one to shield his eyes from the raindrops.

"What are you going to tell Feli?" Antonio asked after a few minutes.

"About us?" he asked, and Antonio nodded. "I suppose the truth, I doubt he'll care. He'd be excited more than anything else. What about you?"

The Spaniard's green eyes met his. "What do you mean?"

"Aren't you going to tell your family? Francis?"

"My family…" he trailed off, and Lovino nearly clapped his hand over his mouth. Oh God, he'd forgotten all about Antonio's past, of his troubles with his religious parents and the fallout because of it.

"Francis?" He urged, trying to change the subject and feeling relieved when Antonio's expression brightened again.

"Francis would be ecstatic." He said. "He's been worrying over my love life for years."

Lovino snorted. "It can't have been that long since you've dated someone."

Antonio glanced at him, worry in his eyes. "Actually Lovi, you're the first person I've gone steady with."

The reporter sat up. "What?" he asked, mind racing. There was no way that could be; Antonio was just so… so easy, and simple. Not in a bad way of course, he was just a comfortable person overall, as well as patient and caring. Not to mention (and he surely wouldn't) Antonio was stunningly beautiful.

"I mean, I had a few hookups every now and again." He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. "But nothing too serious, nothing like this."

Lovino looked away. So this was his first relationship? Suddenly a heavy weight settled on his shoulders, and he felt the intense need to be perfect flare up in his mind. It was an instinct that he'd engrained into himself every day for years. He simply had to be excellent. He had to be perfect. He had to be everything the Spaniard ever wanted, to ensure that his first relationship his best.

"Hey Lovi, we should get out of the rain." Antonio said, pointing above them to the dark sky that was lit up by lightning.

"I'll race you to the porch." He said, getting to his feet and taking off. The gardener took a moment, but then realized what was happening and got up to chase after him.

"You got a head start, you know!" he called out, and Lovino laughed.

"As a reporter I've learned to play dirty." He said once they got under the roof, trying to stifle his smile as Antonio looked absolutely crestfallen at his defeat.

"That's rude." He said, pulling his T-shirt over his head and wringing it out. Lovino looked away, blushing.

"My God, don't you have a sense of decency?"

Antonio paused for a moment, and then seemed to realize what Lovino was talking about. "It's nothing you haven't seen." He said, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

The reporter blushed harder, trying for several moments to come up with a witty retort. Finally he said; "You need to work on your farmer's tan."

"Is that permission to work shirtless?" Antonio asked with a grin, and Lovino simply couldn't help it. He smiled back.

When Feli returned, there was a ring on his finger.

At first Lovino didn't think anything of it as they began their walk out of the airport, Feli smiling and bouncing around as he babbled about his trip. His brother had surely bought some souvenirs after all. It was only when they'd reached home that he noticed which finger it was on, and he stopped in his tracks.

"What is it?" Feliciano asked, turning around, but when he saw what Lovino was staring at a look of fear immediately overcame him.

"It's a promise ring." He assured, his voice shaking. "Ludwig and I aren't- he didn't propose. It's just so I'll wait for him."

"For how long?" Lovino asked, and Feliciano blinked.

"What?"

"Do you even know when he's coming back? If he's coming back?" Lovino didn't mean for his voice to sound so cruel, but he was worried. Feliciano was simply too young to be making commitments like this, especially to that German bastard.

"Well no, we didn't really discuss when exactly he'd come back, but it will be in a few years." Feliciano said, twiddling his thumbs as he avoided his brother's gaze. "But he is coming back. He promised."

Lovino simply shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. Good God, what a mistake he'd made letting Feliciano onto that airplane. "Feli, as your brother I'm telling you that this is a bad idea. You're going to end up hurt. If he's not committed enough to decide between you and his job, then he's not worth it."

He knew he must have said something harsh, because immediately Feliciano's eyes began to tear up. His brother shook his head, looking down as he clutched his hands together. "He said he loves me…"

Lovino stepped towards him, a little angry at himself for causing his brother pain, but at the same time convincing himself that it had to happen. Feliciano was too innocent, to sheltered and young to make a decision like this. "Love is a strong word to use, Feli-"

"How the fuck would you know?" Feliciano asked, his voice drunk with anger. Lovino stilled, he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard his brother swear, and the harshest words were only joking insults. Something told him Feliciano wasn't amused. He heard singing coming from the garden, and prayed that Antonio wouldn't walk in to this mess.

"I've had people tell me they love me." Lovino said, trying to keep his tone gentle. "Dad did, Mom did, and look, they're both gone. You can't trust anyone to stay."

Feliciano's eyes were filled with rage as he all but shouted, "You wouldn't know. You've never loved anyone in your life!"

The words hurt him more than anything physical could, and for a moment he just gaped at his brother, stunned. No, he was wrong. He had to be. Lovino had loved plenty of people, and they'd loved him back.

Right?

It was an insecurity that had haunted him his entire life, ever since his grandfather remembered Feliciano's birthday but forgot his at the vulnerable age of ten years old. He'd never felt more torn apart, more disposable then he had then. He had convinced himself that it was easier to ignore the notion of love altogether, that keeping his distance would keep him safe. He knew it made him undesirable and sometimes despicable. He knew that people didn't want to be around him. He knew how much he was ignored, because hating him would've been too much effort.

Lovino ran a hand through his hair, looking away as he tried to stall the pain that welled up in his chest. He did love people- his family at least. He knew he wasn't too good at it, but he definitely tried.

God knows he tried.

Feliciano's eyes widened, as if he just realized the gravity of what he said. "Lovi…"

"Why don't you go unpack?" Lovino said quietly, not trusting his emotions. He half expected Feliciano to burst into tears and hug him, apologizing as he did whenever he'd hurt someone else. Instead his brother grabbed his suitcase and went upstairs, not saying a single word.

Antonio's singing drifted to him again, and he felt the ball of tension within him ease a bit. He'd never known exactly how to love, but he was learning.

Sadness was exhausting, and because of the mood he'd been put in the night before, Lovino slept in several hours longer than he had intended. It was a heavy, dreamless sleep, one that he only woke up from when someone knocked on his door, and Antonio burst into his room.

"Lovino-"

"What the fuck?" he asked, rubbing his eyes vigorously as he tried to comprehend the sudden consciousness he'd entered.

Antonio approached the bed. "Have you seen Feliciano anywhere?"

"You asshole, I've been asleep until a minute ago. How would I know?" Lovino asked, twisting his back in an effort to pop it. He hadn't slept that deeply in years.

"I can't find him anywhere." Antonio said. "Did he go somewhere? Did something happen?"

"I…" Lovino trailed off, blinking as the world suddenly became clear. He swung himself off the bed and quickly began to dress himself, worry flashing through his mind.

"Lovi?"

"We got in a fight last night." Lovino said, taking a moment to put on shoes and pat down his hair before he took off out of the room. Stupid, stupid Feliciano, taking everything to heart, always too emotional. He should have known that Lovino didn't mean any harm by his words, even if they were harsh.

"What did you guys fight about?" Antonio asked, following the reporter as he bounded down the stairs and grabbed his keys from the table beside his couch.

"It was about Ludwig." He said, quickly getting into his car and starting it, and Antonio barely had time to get in before he took off. "I didn't think he'd react like this."

"Do you know where he could be?" Antonio asked, and Lovino threw a hand up in the air in frustration.

"Fuck if I know. My God- did he just forget that there's a murderer on the loose? How did he even justify running away like this?"

"What did you say to him?" the gardener asked, and Lovino took a breath, then explained the events of the previous night.

"Then after that he stomped upstairs, and I went to bed." He finished, looking over at Antonio, only to see that the man was zoned out, staring at some point in the distance. "Are you even hearing me?"

"Yeah I just…" he trailed off, pointing across the road at an old, quaint park. "Is that him?"

Lovino followed his gaze, and pressed against the breaks when he saw a certain auburn haired Italian swinging on the swing set.

He pulled over, perhaps a little forcefully, but he didn't care. Feliciano looked up at the sound of footsteps in the grass, and though he expected some sort of emotional reaction, Lovino was met with a blank stare from his younger brother.

"Let's go home." He said, and to his relief the younger man didn't say anything, only nodding as he followed him back to the car, wordlessly getting into the back seat.

"And just what do you think you were doing?" Lovino asked once they were on the road. "Now is not the time to be wandering around town. Did you forget about Jonsi?"

"Oh…" Feliciano started, looking up suddenly. "I guess I did."

The reporter shook his head, willing himself to calm down. He'd found his brother, and despite how stupid the reason he left was, he'd still found him.

"I'm not mad." He said with a sigh. "Okay- well I am mad. You scared me shitless. Why did you leave like that? Was it because of what I said?"

Feliciano paused for a moment, then nodded.

Lovino pushed a hand against his forehead. He'd only been doing what he thought was best. He didn't mean to have things end up like this.

"I'm sorry I hurt your feelings." He said finally, pulling into the driveway. "We can talk about Ludwig later, but Feli- you just can't go running off like that, especially not now. There's somebody out to get me, and we look an awful fucking lot alike."

"Okay." He said with a nod before quietly continuing. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Lovino said, and then Antonio spoke for the first time.

"You know you can always talk to me if you ever need anything, Feli." He said, turning back to look at his brother.

Feliciano cocked his head to the side. "Yeah but I don't know if I should be spending too much time with my brother's boyfriend."

At that Lovino and Antonio's met eyes, wondering how Feliciano knew about them.

"Wait- did you guys not get together while I was gone?"

"We did." Lovino said after a pause, glancing suspiciously at the gardener, who only shook his head in confusion.

"Well now you owe me twenty bucks Antonio." Feliciano said with a triumphant grin, and the reporter's eyes widened.

"You guys made a bet?" he asked, and Antonio rubbed the back of his head, looking at his feet.

"It's not like that…" he said, "I mean- I didn't…" his green eyes looked helpless as he tried to find the words to say.

"Just make sure you pay up," Lovino said, shaking his head. Today was just too much. "We Italian's know how to hold a grudge."

They didn't share a bed, not officially anyways, but that didn't stop Antonio from worrying when he woke up to find the space beside him empty.

When he felt around for a few moments and only found cold sheets, he turned over to check his alarm clock. It was four in the morning.

He might have gone to do the morning news, Antonio reminded himself as he sat up. Lovino had done so a few times before, whenever he suffered from a bout of insomnia.

It was probably nothing, and he knew that as he pulled on a robe and began to look around the house. Then again, it could very well be something, and he's wasn't about to take any chances.

Antonio wasn't surprised to find Lovino in the garden, since he'd done so several times before. The reporter was simply standing in front of a rose bush, his rose bush, he realized, and halted in his tracks.

"Are you alright?"

Lovino jumped at his words, and turned around with a wild fear in his eyes before they settled on him. Antonio was just about to poke fun at him before he remembered that he was being hunted by a murderous psychopath, after all.

"Yeah I just…" Lovino trailed off, turning around again to look at the rose bush. Antonio walked over to him, waiting patiently for the man to say something.

"I'm worried about Feli." He said, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want to be an asshole, but I don't like what's happening with Ludwig and him. He's just too young for something like that."

"He's eighteen now." Antonio said, stepping closer to Lovino. "He's going to do what he wants regardless of what you think."

"I know." The reporter said, rubbing his arms. "That doesn't mean I like it." He paused for another minute, and Antonio closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Lovino to pull his back to his chest and resting his chin on the smaller man's shoulder.

"I just wish I knew how to interact with people without upsetting them." Lovino said, leaning back into him. "I don't mean to be nearly as bitchy as I am."

"I don't think you're that bitchy." He protested, and Lovino let out a small laugh before going quiet, eyes still resting on the rose bush.

Several moments passed before he spoke again, his voice barely a whisper. "Feli said that I've never loved anyone in my life."

Antonio blinked, had the younger Italian actually said that? Feliciano had always been peppy and kind- and for him to say something like that, he must have been thoroughly upset.

"What did you say back?" he asked, and Lovino sighed.

"Nothing really. I didn't know what to say. Feli's never acted like this, even when I'm trying to be an asshole."

"He must really love Ludwig." Antonio said, and Lovino turned around.

"But he's wrong- right?" he asked, concern written across his face. "I know how to love people, don't I?"

It was then that Antonio saw tears sitting in Lovino's eyes, and he froze, the only thing running through his mind was how to keep the man from crying.

"You love Feli," he said, "And I'm sure you loved your mom and-"

"I know that I love people." Lovino interrupted, looking away and blinking rapidly. "I'm just not doing it right- am I? I don't know how to make Feli laugh or smile like you do; I don't know how to cheer him up like mom did. You've helped me with everything- while I hardly do anything for you. I'm angry and bitter and I don't want to be. I'm trying not to be. Neither of you deserve this."

Antonio felt a piece of his heart break away with word. So Lovino had been feeling this way the entire time? How had he not seen it?

"I'm sorry." Lovino said, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes. "I can be better. I'm trying to be better."

Antonio was never good with words, and when the reporter began to cry the only thing he could do was pull him to his chest and wrap his arms around his waist.

Lovino clutched at his shirt, his forehead pressed against the Spaniard's shoulder as tears continued to fall from his eyes. "I just wish I wasn't like this." He said softly.

A heartbeat passed before Antonio said, "No Lovi, you can't think like that." He pulled him closer, trying desperately to stop the sobs that shook through the younger man. "You're perfect just the way you are."

"Don't lie to me." Lovino said, "I don't want you to compliment me out of pity."

"I…" Antonio trailed off, wracking his brain to find the right thing to say, but then settled with what was actually going through his mind.

"I wouldn't change you, and I don't think Feli would either." He said, "You guys had a disagreement. Things like that happen. It doesn't mean you're no good, and I'm sure Feli wishes he hadn't said those things to you."

Lovino said nothing, so he continued.

"You just try so hard to be perfect Lovi, and you don't need to. You can be nice to me, and you're so –so good at writing. It makes me jealous; I've never been good with my words. You're also a good cook, and you're funny and good at kissing and-"

"That's enough." Lovino said, pulling back with a small smile, and Antonio was relieved to see it.

"None of those things really matter." He said, and the gardener was about to protest before he continued. "I know there are things I'm good at; but am I good to you?"

"Yes!" he said, becoming frustrated with himself. That had been what he was trying to say the entire time. "You can be sarcastic and grumpy, but I know you don't mean any of it."

Lovino's eyes went to his feet, and Antonio put a hand on his cheek, trying to convey through touch what he couldn't through words.

"But in the end, when it really matters, you're kind. I know you care about me. I don't ever question that."

"Even when I hurt your feelings?" Lovino asked, hesitantly meeting his eyes.

"Mi amor- you've only hurt my feelings once, and that was when you wouldn't call me 'Toni'."

At that Lovino laughed, and Antonio felt the pressure in the air lessen. His hand traveled to grab the younger man's, and the two began the walk back inside and to the bedroom.

"But really Lovi, don't be so hard on yourself." He said once they settled back into the bed. "I'm sure Feli already forgave you, but if not just make some pasta. Then you'll definitely win him over."

The reporter smiled at him, and Antonio didn't know how to explain that the sight before him, Lovino lying in bed in worn pajamas, with his hair messy and a soft smile on his face, was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his entire life.

Growing up in an Italian family, Lovino had had his fair share of fantastic food, but pasta was still, and had always been his favorite.

It was no doubt Feliciano's too, he thought as his younger brother came downstairs the moment he turned on the stove. He began to wondering if there was some sixth sense that his brother had that alerted him if pasta was in the vicinity.

"What are you making?" Feliciano asked as he walked into the kitchen, coming to lean on the counter next to him.

"Pasta." He said, though he was sure that his brother already knew. Feliciano's face lit up.

"I love pasta."

"I know." Lovino said. "We all know. You tell everyone. I wouldn't be surprised if you put that in a job resume, or took a sign with you everywhere you go."

"Oh, and you're one to talk." Feliciano said, though he was smiling. Lovino felt the weight on his heart lighten; they were already beginning to make amends.

"Is Antonio going to eat with us?" he asked, and the reporter nodded, glancing back down at his pot every now and again as he spoke.

"I just sent him to the garden to get some tomatoes." He said.

"You like him a lot- don't you?" Feliciano asked, and Lovino stared at him for a minute, wondering if there was a bigger joke behind his words, but his brother only blinked up at him, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, I like him a lot." He said.

"More than any other boy you've been with." Feliciano pressed, and Lovino felt a blush spread across his cheeks. "You might even love him."

Lovino knew his brother was right, but his throat felt like sandpaper as he forced himself to speak, praying that Antonio wasn't nearby. "I might." He said, and his brother smiled widely.

"I knew it." Leaning back, Feliciano stared up at the ceiling. "It's great- isn't it- to have someone like that?"

"Do you…" Lovino trailed off, wondering if they were at a point where he could bring this up again. With a special effort to be delicate, he continued. "Do you love Ludwig?"

His brother didn't meet his eyes, and the reporter felt a little guilty as his younger brother paused, knowing that he was trying to be careful with his words.

"I do." He finally admitted; his voice quieter than Lovino had ever remembered. "I love him a lot."

The reporter nodded, he'd expected an answer like that.

"But I can see why you might not approve," Feliciano continued quickly, "And I know you're probably just looking out for me, because I can be dumb sometimes. I don't want to cause fights or make you mad or anything- and he's really sweet and would be really nice if you talked to him, and-"

"Feli." Lovino interrupted him, and in one swift moment he swallowed his pride and his worry all in one. "What beer does Ludwig like?"

Feliciano blinked at him, "What? Why?"

"He's going to visit during Christmas isn't he?" he continued, setting the temperature to low as he finally took a step back from his food. "I'm sure he'll come over for dinner, so what beer does he want? God knows I'm not having any."

It took a few moments, but Feliciano's face soon lit up as he understood just what Lovino was getting at. He jumped into the older man's arms, hugging him tightly as he practically radiated glee.

"Oh Lovi, I promise you won't regret this, Ludwig is really great- you'll see."

"I can't make pasta if you choke me to death." He said, pulling away from his brother, though he felt a little warmer at the sight of Feliciano's happiness.

"Speaking of pasta, why is it taking so long?" his brother asked, and Lovino shook his head.

"I sent Antonio out almost forty five minutes ago. I bet he fell asleep in the garden again." He pushed past his brother and towards the back door, handing him the spoon as he went. "Watch the food; I'm going to find him."

Lovino walked through the dewy grass with an ambling gait, put completely at ease from his reconciling with Feliciano. He walked faster towards the garden, knowing that Antonio would be happy to hear about what just happened.

When he reached the tomato plants however, the Spaniard was nowhere in sight. At first Lovino simply shrugged, going on a short walk around his yard; Antonio probably got sidetracked by a butterfly or a squirrel or something of the sort. He wouldn't be surprised if he found his taking a nap in the shade of the cherry tree.

He walked the entire length of the fence, then back to his shed and then through the garden, becoming increasingly confused. Where could the bastard possibly have gone?

"Have you seen Antonio?" Lovino asked as he came back inside, but Feliciano shook his head. "I thought he was outside?"

"He was." The reporter said, pulling out his phone and typing the man a short text. He then bounded up the stairs, wondering if he'd gone to his room without anyone noticing. Both of their beds were empty however, as well as the bathroom.

At that point Lovino pulled out his phone and dialed the other man's number. It was like Antonio to fall asleep somewhere and not show himself for hours, but he was positive he'd seen the man go into the backyard, he'd even been watching him from the kitchen window before Feliciano came downstairs.

The call rang out, and he finally gave in to the concern that had been threatening to bubble up in his mind. He'd officially run out of places Antonio would be, and even if he'd gone out somewhere, he surely would have let someone know first.

"Are you sure you haven't seen him?" Lovino asked as he came down stairs again, doing a thorough sweep of the living room and the dining room before appearing in the kitchen again.

"Not since this morning." Feliciano said, "Did something happen?"

"I don't know." The reporter said, dialing the number again as he grabbed his keys with shaking hands. He nearly threw the object across the room in frustration when he was only sent to voicemail again.

"Is Antonio okay?" Feliciano asked, and Lovino shook his head and headed for the front door. "He better fucking be."

"Where are you going?" he called after him, and the reporter paused for a moment. He didn't know where was going, all that he knew was that something was wrong, and that he had to find Antonio as soon as possible or the rapid beating of his heart might kill him.

"I'm going to find that bastard." He said, opening the door. "I'm calling Alfred too. Stay here, lock the doors. Don't open for anyone you don't know- do you understand?"

"Is he in trouble?"

"I don't know." Lovino said, stepping outside. "Be careful," he added before shutting the door behind him and bounding towards the car. He dialed Alfred's number as he started the engine and sped down the street. He'd check Antonio's apartment first, and then drive through downtown, then-

"Alfred F. Jones, what can I do for you?"

"It's Lovino." He said quickly, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "I can't find Antonio."

"Your gardener guy?" Alfred asked on the other line. "Well where did you see him last?"

"In my back yard." He said, "I checked all over my house, I'm driving through town right now. I haven't seen him at all."

"How long has he been gone?" the man asked, and Lovino heard him call to someone else in the room before he got back on the line.

"An hour. He's not answering my calls."

"I'm sending a team to his apartment right now, and someone else to your house. Wait a minute- you're downtown?"

"Yes." Lovino said, slamming on his breaks as someone cut him off. He was so distraught that he didn't even flip the man off. He tried to calm himself down, reminding himself that Antonio might have gone to hang out with Francis after all, or maybe he went on a walk. Perhaps he simply didn't think to let Lovino know.

But in the back of his mind he knew that wasn't the case. Antonio had been incredibly cautious when it came to leaving the house. He'd always leave a note or he'd call or something. He wouldn't just leave without a word.

"I want you to head back to your house." Alfred said. "If Jonsi is involved, you don't want to be anywhere he could find you. I'll call you as things progress."

"But what are you going to do if he's not as his apartment?" Lovino protested, trying to ignore how his voice shook.

"We'll figure it out." Alfred assured, "Lovino, you need to go-" a beep sounded as another call came in, and when Lovino glanced at his phone he felt an overwhelming sense of relief when he saw Antonio's caller ID. He immediately hung up on Alfred and answered it.

"Antonio, thank God. Where did you go?" he asked, swerving to park his car. For a brief, terrifying moment he was met with only silence.

"Hey Lovi, how are you?"

It was Antonio's voice, and it would have dispelled all of his fear if it wasn't so empty.

"What's going on?" Lovino asked, turning off his car and getting out. "I'm near Main Street, are you there?"

"No I-" he paused and Lovino held his breath. "It doesn't matter. You should tell me about your day."

He stopped in his tracks. Antonio's tone was heavy, his breath ragged, his mind raced as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"Antonio, where are you right now?"

There was a long pause, and he nearly shouted with frustration before the voice on the other line spoke again.

"Feli saw that you were making pasta right? I'm sure he's excited, you're cooking is always so good, Lovi."

There was a muffled voice that echoed in the call, and then sudden, jarring snap, followed by a shout of pain. Lovino was practically pulling his hair out, letting out a string of curses.

"What's happening?! Jesus Christ Antonio you're scaring me. What's going on?"

He only heard heavy breathing for several moments, and then Antonio spoke again, his voice cracking with every other word.

"Are you outside? You need to go home."

"Where are you?" Lovino persisted. "Dear God Antonio, just tell me, please."

"No." he said simply, and then there was another echoing voice, and he heard Antonio curse loudly.

"It's Jonsi, isn't it?" he asked, unable to help himself, he took off in a sprint, though he didn't know where he was going.

"Go home." Was all Antonio said, and then a mind numbing, earth shattering bang sounded on the other line, and Lovino stopped in his tracks.

"What happened?" he asked, his heart clawing its way into his throat when he got no response. "Talk to me Goddammit!"

Nothing else was said for nearly a minute, but Lovino could still hear Antonio's sharp breaths and grunts of pain, and he pressed the phone closer to his ear, his nails digging into his forearm as he did so.

"He left…" Antonio finally said. "It's Jonsi. I think we're somewhere by my apartments, but I don't know. The room's dark."

"I'm going over there right now." He said, "I'm going to call Alfred and-"

"No." Antonio said, and Lovino's eyes widened at the sound of his voice. It was shakier than he'd ever heard it. "Please, just stay on the line with me."

"I need to tell Alfred." He persisted, crossing the street without caring about the traffic on either side of him. "I'll call you right back."

"Please don't hang up." He said softly, "Please, Lovi."

Lovino shook his head, and then skidded down the sidewalk towards a payphone. He thanked God he had his wallet with him as he paid and picked up the phone, dialing the number, but having to redial it due to the violent trembling of his hands. The entire time he kept the other phone pressed to his ear, listening for Antonio's breathing.

When Alfred picked up he quickly relayed what Antonio had said, and through him they exchanged a few questions, before Alfred said something along the lines of "Wait- I think I see something." and hung up.

Before Lovino could run off again, Antonio's voice stopped him.

"Don't try to find me." He pleaded. "I don't know where he went. Get in your car at least. Find some police. Don't go anywhere by yourself."

"But I need to-" he started, but he was interrupted, Antonio's more serious and stern than he'd ever heard it before.

"Just do it." He said, before adding a soft "Please."

At that his shoulders slumped, and he finally gave in to what he'd been told to do this entire time, knowing that Antonio and Alfred where right. Looking around for any suspicious man in a hat and a trench coat, he bolted back for his car, and immediately locked the doors. There were still several people around, which promised him some form of security.

"Are you in your car?" Antonio asked.

"Yes." Lovino said, "My God Antonio, what happened? Are you okay?"

"I don't-" he paused, then groaned, swearing a few times before he continued. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Please," Lovino started, the sound of the gunshot still echoing in his mind. "I need to know."

There was a heavy sigh. "I'm probably not going to be okay."

At that he broke, and tears fell from his eyes as he slammed his fist on the dash in frustration. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life. "Antonio…"

"I don't want to talk about." The gardener persisted. "What did you do today?"

"I was with you, asshole." He choked, squeezing his eyes shut. "I was with you and I should have noticed you were gone. I shouldn't have had you go outside by yourself. I should have realized what was happening, I should have- FUCK!"

Lovino beat his hand against the dash again, knowing it would bruise but not caring. His voice was softer when he continued. "Please Antonio, don't do this to me."

"I'm sorry Lovi…" he said quietly. "Don't blame yourself, mi amor."

Lovino couldn't respond, dissolving into angry sobs and muffled curses as he mauled the dash with his fist. He'd just been with Antonio this morning, how on earth was this happening?

"I love you, Lovino." He said, "You know that, right?"

"Yes…"

"Don't you ever forget it." Antonio said.

"I love you too." Lovino said quietly, and when he got no response he felt his blood run cold. "What's happening, Antonio?"

His question was only met with ragged, heavy breaths, and no matter how hard he strained his ears, they were all he heard. "Antonio?"

There was no response, and so there he sat for what felt like an eternity, listening to Antonio's breathing as he felt everything in the world crumble around him.

When he was seven years old Antonio jumped a little too high on his cousin's trampoline, and ended up hitting the pavement. He'd woken up a few hours later in a hospital bed, with his mother worrying at his side and his father pacing on the other side of the room.

This room was empty however, Antonio realized as his eyes focused. Then memories began to flood back, and a heavy, breathtaking pain in his side made itself known, as well as a heavy ache in his leg. He gasped at it, but was able to settle himself in a way that minimalized the pain. He then wondered if he should call for a nurse, or maybe just wait for someone to come in. He didn't know what condition he was in, only that he was alive, and that was good enough for him.

Antonio settled back against his pillow, deciding that he'd go back to sleep, but was only able to doze off before someone appeared into his room.

"Oh! Antonio's awake!" Feliciano said, as he practically ran to the side of his bed, wrapping the man in a tight hug. "How are you feeling? Mr. Jones said you got shot. That's got to hurt, right? Do you need medicine? Do you want me to get a nurse?"

"Yes Feli, get a nurse." He said, trying to kindly push the man away. He was still in pain after all.

The Italian disappeared, and then reappeared a few moments later with a nurse, who quickly went to check his vitals and barraged him with questions. She'd just finished checking his heart beat when Feliciano groaned loudly from across the room.

"Now I have to drive back and get Lovi." He said, pouting. "He's going to be mad if I don't tell him you woke up."

Antonio sat up a little straighter at the sound of the man's name. "Where is he?"

"I just took him home." He said, "He hasn't slept in a while, I could tell because he was being even more of an asshole than normal."

"But he's safe?" The Spaniard urged, "Nothing happened to him?"

"No, he's fine." Feliciano said, "He's really grumpy right now, but I think that might change now that you're awake."

"Well go get him." Antonio urged, sensing that the nurse next to him was beginning to get agitated. Feliciano took off, and in his place walked Alfred F. Jones, the man waited patiently for the nurse to go through her tests and question Antonio, then gave her a wink as she left to get a doctor.

"You're probably wondering what happened." He said, and when Antonio nodded he continued. "Well, there was a shootout, and needless to say Jonsi is very-very dead."

The sudden darkness in his voice startled him, and Antonio wondered if the FBI investigator wasn't as pleasant as he seemed.

"Lovino called when you went missing, and then again once you called him. We were able to figure out that you were in the cellar beneath the storage units. How he got the key is beyond me, we're investigating the owner right now, but I doubt he had any part in it."

Alfred shook his head. "This guy was just mind blowing. He broke out of one of the highest security mental institutions in the country, and then practically disappeared for two months. He managed to snitch the keys from the owner of your apartment complex, and somehow nabbed you without Lovino or Feliciano noticing. How did he do that, by the way?"

Antonio paused, but then a dull ache on the back of his head brought back some memories.

"I don't know what he hit me with, but I was out." The Spaniard said, "Then I just woke up in the back of a car, and as soon as he opened the trunk I tried to fight him. I managed to get the bag off my head before he hit me again, and I was able to see a parking lot that looked like my apartment complex before I pass out. Then I woke up in a dark room. He threw me my phone and told me to call Lovi, and to tell him what's going on. I didn't comply though…" Antonio gingerly brushed his fingertips over his leg. "He broke my leg, and when I still didn't, he shot me and left. I thought I was going to die."

"He probably figured out that you wouldn't tell Lovino anything, and then decided that it would be better to get out of there instead of risk being caught by police." Alfred leaned against the wall on the other side of the room. "I thought he would have finished you off before that, but he had no reason to believe that anyone would find you. That sadistic asshole was going to let you bleed out, which could have taken days."

It was then that a doctor entered the room, and Alfred left with the promise of calling him later. Then Antonio was faced with another set of tests and examinations, and it was another hour before he was alone again. The drugs were just kicking in when there was a knock on his door, but it swung open before he could say anything, and an incredibly pissed off Lovino Vargas stomped in.

"You son of a bitch." He said, stomping towards his bed. "You scared me to death, I was screaming you prick. I haven't slept for shit. I swear to God-"

It took a few moments, but once he was close enough Antonio reached forward and wrapped his arms around Lovino's waist, pulling the man toward him so that he could rest his face against his stomach. If he wasn't sitting down and immobile, he would've done something much more romantic, like sweep him off his feet and kiss him into oblivion or something like that, but this would do for now.

Lovino paused, and then after a moment began to shake, and then sunk down to sit on the bed beside Antonio, his face buried in his shoulder as his body was wracked with sobs.

"I was so scared." He choked out, and the Spaniard felt tears spring into his own eyes.

"I was too." He said, "I'm sorry, Lovi."

"Don't apologize." Lovino said. "Don't talk at all actually. Can we just sit like this for a while?"

Antonio nodded, pulling the man closer to him. He'd never been more terrified in his life than he was in that empty cellar, and when Jonsi had shot him he was certain he was going to die. Lovino was warm however, his hair a little damp from a shower he'd just taken; his skin soft and familiar against Antonio's, and it all was enough to push out the terrible memory from of that night.

Eventually Lovino began to feel heavy against him, and his breathing evened out. Antonio smiled as he turned the already sleeping man around and pulled him back to fit into the space beside him on the bed. A nurse walked in a few minutes later, and when her eyes settled on the pair she said,

"Normally we don't allow this, it makes my job hard." She paused, meeting his eyes. "But he's been here all week, hardly sleeping or eating. So I'll allow it for today."

"Thanks." Antonio said, smiling at her. "He's my boyfriend. He's very cute, but kind of mean too."

She cracked a grin. "It looks like you're tired too. Let me do some tests, then I'll turn off the light on my way out.

Lovino knew he should probably quit news.

Antonio never said a word to him about it, but Feliciano often brought it up, saying that he had a lot of skill sets, and he could easily go freelance if he wanted to. Lovino knew that, and he knew it was probably a safer route as well, and he was honestly considering it.

His first night back was a celebration, and he blushed at the appreciation and kindness that his coworkers showered on him for finally coming back to report (and undoubtedly make their jobs easier).

The first live shot happened a few weeks later. It was low maintenance; he just had to stand outside a political rally for a few hours. There was no threat of violence, and plenty of security guards. He felt at ease as Elizabeta set up the camera and counted him down, and he only stumbled once throughout his two minute script.

They finished and packed up, and once they'd reached the station he found Francis waiting for him at his desk.

"So Antonio officially moved in with you?" he asked, leaning against his office door.

"We've got a few more things to bring over." Lovino said, taking off his tie and packing away his laptop. "But yeah, we're almost done."

"He's really happy you know." The Frenchman continued. "I don't think I've ever seen him like this."

Lovino felt a blush cross his cheeks. "Well, I am pretty great."

Francis laughed, but when he spoke there was no mirth in his voice. "You treat that boy right, you hear me Lovi?"

"I…" he was stunned; he'd never heard Francis sound this serious about anything besides food and his hate of the British. "I will."

"Good." he said, his voice back to normal. "Now where do you want to go for dinner?"

For what felt like the thousandth time, he came home to find Antonio in the garden.

"There's a bed you know." He said, startling the man who looked as if he was just starting to dose off. "I mean, you can stay out here by yourself if you want, but there's also the risk of you being kidnapped and shot."

Antonio smiled, patting the space on the bench beside him, and Lovino took it.

"How was your first day on air?" the Spaniard asked, and he shrugged.

"It was okay. It wasn't terrible or anything." He sighed, looking up at the clear night sky. "I think I'm starting to realize something though."

"Yes, mi amor?" Antonio asked, taking his hand and settling back, Lovino leaning against him.

"I don't really like news." He said, "I never did. I just liked writing and being busy, and I have a nice face, which was enough reason for me to do it a while ago."

"What changed?" Antonio asked.

"Well there's the obvious one of you getting kidnapped and shot because some guy held a grudge against me." He said, "Which should be enough reason on its own, but besides that- I did news because it made me feel important, it was the only way for me to feel like I'm doing anything worthwhile."

"But Lovi- you are important, even if you don't do news. You always have been and always will be."

He glanced up at the Spaniard, holding his gaze steady. "Six months ago I wouldn't have believed you."

Antonio looked at him hopefully. "But now?"

"I still think you're just being a sappy dork." He said, and when the gardener frowned he continued, "But you're more fun than news."

At that Antonio's face lit up, a blush dancing across his cheeks. "What do you want to do then? Feli and I both think you could be freelance. Why don't you start a travel blog? We can go to Spain and Italy, maybe France, but not England."

"Not Germany, either." Lovino added. "That sounds fun, but I don't know if I could just up and leave." He paused, and then gestured at the garden. "I wouldn't want to abandon this."

"I can teach Feli how to manage it, or maybe you could hire somebody else until we get back." Antonio said, "That's the beautiful thing about plants. Even if we don't come back for fifty years, as long as they've been watered and cared for they'd still be there. You don't have to ever worry about them fading away."

Lovino stared up at the man, feeling something in his chest flutter. This was one of the rare occasions that Antonio was well spoken, and it left him breathless. For all of his faults, Lovino could never deny that he loved the man.

"We don't have to worry about that right now." The Spaniard said. "There's plenty of other things to do."

"Like make out." Lovino said, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him down for a kiss. Antonio smiled against his lips, then pulled him closer.

"I was thinking career paths." He said, pulling back briefly then kissing him again. "But this works just fine."

The End

A/N:

Hey guys! Thanks for reading. I just wanted to say, I get a lot of "Wait this ended abruptly," with my stories, so I just thought I'd let you know that's kind of my writing style. All of my stories are pretty short. I have yet to write something over 9 chapters, and this one is no exception.

I hope you enjoyed, I worked pretty hard on this last chapter. Feel free to give me feedback if you have a second!