[Fanfic] TFHOL 19/19
Title: The Flying Heart of Love 19/19
Rating: Pgish, sort of. Maybe not.
Characters: Lots of characters in this chapter.
Warnings: This is an AU, so you'll have to ignore everything you know about family relations and things from what passes for canon at Latin Hetalia. I MEAN IT. BE WARNED.
As always, thanks to Zu for reading it over for me <3
Recap: In the previous chapter, Miguel and Manu had been kidnapped by Francis and the evil white-haired man. After getting valuable insights and some helpful advice from the captors, they were saved by a dozen people. Meanwhile, Maria was still in Italy, coming back with her mom and a possible cure for Luciano, who was still at the hospital. Martín was moping and Henrique was sighing. And that’s what you missed in TFHOL.
*~*~*
Episode 30
*~*~*
As much as María wanted to stay awake and talk to her mother, there was no way she'd be able to travel all the way back after the million hours it took her to go to Italy the first time. She passed out right after dinner.
It was a nice dinner. In Lovina’s private jet. The seats were better, too. They even had a couch. Lovina noticed her eyes starting to close, and pulled María to her shoulder.
María smiled.
“Mom... do you remember that song you used to sing? The one with the mother talking to the girl and the butterfly and things like that?”
“Gira l'amore! Of course I remember. You loved that one. Do you want me to sing?”
María nodded. She rested her head on Lovina's shoulder, and listened to the song as her mom held her hand.
When they finally arrived, they took a taxi and went straight to the hospital.
“I need to see the poor kid before he dies,” Feliciana cheerfully explained, “And I know you'll start fighting with Antonio, sorella, and then he'll want to know why María didn't tell him she was going to stay the night and this will take too much time.”
Lovina agreed, but only because she couldn't murder her own sister. Secretly, María thought it was a good idea.
Not murdering her. Going to the hospital first. She had no idea what Antonio would do when he saw his favorite Italian girl was back, especially considering that things were still not safe - María had tried to explain that part before the flight, but Lovina had refused to listen, too eager to see Martín and Manuel - and María didn’t want to deal with all that. So the rest of the family would have to wait.
Of course, she was out of luck, because when they arrived - with Lovina sulking because Feliciana hadn't let her rent a car to drive herself - María found Martín in the waiting room.
He looked tired, as if he hadn't closed his eyes all night, and too broken to be Martín. He was staring lifelessly at the wall, and María almost thought it was too late. Almost. She knew Martín wouldn't hang around in the hospital if Luciano had died, he would be sobbing somewhere else or at the cemetery threatening to jump in the grave. So there was hope yet.
His eyes hardened when he saw her.
“Just where the hell have you been,” he started, and then stopped when he saw Lovina and Feliciana. “What- how did you do that?”
“It's an insanely long story and, erm, you might have missed a few things that I found out, so, you see, she's, erm-”
“He has the same eyes,” Lovina whispered. She, on the other hand, was looking at Martín as if he were some sort of angel. “His father's eyes.”
“...really? I thought they looked like yours. Anyway-”
Martín looked from one to the other, utterly lost.
“My father? What? What's going on here?”
“Well, so, remember how Antonio always treated us differently, and how we were so sure he was our father, like, we even say it all the time, even if we were not supposed to, remember that? So it kinda turns out that he was, and mom, I mean, Lovina here is our-”
But Lovina wasn't in the mood to wait for her baby to catch up. She was already throwing her arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheeks and sobbing, and Martín must have guessed the rest of it on his own, because he raised his arms in an awkward hug and started to blink really hard.
“I'm sorry,” María said, trying to be heard above the string of loud Italian words, “I wanted to tell you before and none of this would have happened if Antonio had let me have a cellphone, I'm sorry!”
Martín didn't answer. He stood there as Lovina kissed him and held his face and kissed him again, and then tears started to run down his cheek and he still hadn't said anything, so María went there and put her arms around his waist, hiding her face in his chest. He held onto her and Lovina hugged them both, and the three of them stood there in the middle of the waiting room, crying together.
Feliciana beamed at them. For five seconds. Then she wandered off to talk to the doctors.
*
Which was when the rest of the gang finally arrived.
María had no idea what was going on, and Martín was too emotional right now to tell her, so when Antonio got there with Manuel, the Peruvian restaurant guy and a blond old man she had never seen before, plus Alfred, she took it in stride and decided to go sit in a corner and wait for the next events.
Antonio entered the waiting room as if it were his own battle field.
“Where is that asshole who calls himself my brother, I’ll kill him with my bare hands for what-”
And then he froze.
Lovina still had her arm around Martín’s waist. She turned to see what was all the commotion - her eyes red and swollen, her hair a little disheveled and her clothes wrinkled, looking stunningly beautiful even so - and then she saw Antonio. She gasped, a strangled whimper coming from her mouth, and then glared at him.
Antonio opened his mouth, forming a soundless word that maybe was her name, glued to that spot. And then everyone else stopped too, not willing to break the moment, except for Alfred, who winked at María and then came to sit by her side because he had no sense of drama. And then Lovina finally came back to her senses.
She went to him.
And slapped him hard across the face.
“You- you monster, how could you do this to me, I should kill you right now-” and a torrent of Italian swearing, and then Antonio’s arms were all around her and he was kissing her mouth and she grabbed his hair and his clothes as if she never wanted to let him go.
“So,” Alfred whispered, “Everything went well, I take.”
“I am so tired. I don’t know how I’m standing. What happened?”
“You’re not standing,” he said, cheerfully, “And we got the criminals. Maddie is taking care of them so they won’t escape, at least until we decide what to do about Antonio, who is a criminal too, but I don’t think they’re going to charge him, but he wanted to come here to get revenge on his brother and we need to talk to him anyway, so… yeah. I think that’s all you missed. Is your brother alright?”
Martín was sitting on the couch, looking like he had just spent fifteen solid minutes sobbing his eyes out, which, incidentally, was exactly what had happened. He was looking from the kissing couple to Maria to a suddenly very awkward Manuel, trying to process everything.
“He’ll be fine. Antonio wants revenge for what?”
“Well… that’s a long story. Do you… would you like to go outside? And eat something? And- erm- I know you’re going through a lot, so I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but in case you’re not, do you, like, remember what you did before leaving the car?”
María was insanely tired, everything was falling apart - to be rebuilt again in a different way, which was awesome, of course, but still exhausting - and she wasn’t sure she had cried all she had to cry, she had to talk to Martín and to Antonio and probably to Manuel and Luciano, she had made a twenty hours journey yesterday just to make another one today and maybe she was finally snapping, but-
“Of course I remember,” she said. Alfred smiled, looking shy for the first time since they had met, and then he kissed her lips.
It was a very soft, g-rated kiss, that no one even noticed with the crazy couple falling to the floor right in front of them, but it made her lips tingle, and she was smiling too when he pulled away.
*~*~*
Episode 31
*~*~*
Manuel knocked softly on the door, almost hoping he wouldn’t be heard. So he held back a sigh when he heard the ‘enter’ from inside.
His father was sitting on his favorite chair, catching up with his embroidery, and Manuel had a flash of days long gone, when he’d do exactly the same thing and play quietly in the carpet while his father worked on his little projects.
He had a nice collection of mini-cars back then. He wondered what had happened to them.
Arthur Kirkland looked up at him, and then nodded to the chair. Manuel sat down, and looked at his shoes.
“I… I heard you made a deal with Francis and Gilbert. That was… unexpected.”
“It was the only way. I’d love to get them in jail, but we couldn’t see a way to achieve that without implicating Antonio too.”
“Do you think they’ll keep their part? That they’ll stay clean?”
“Not at all,” Arthur said, a dark glee in his eyes, “But I have my money back, and I’ll keep an eye on them. I’m sure I’ll find a way to destroy them. I do, however, think that they’ll lie low for a while, which is more than what they were doing so far, so I’m pleased with the outcomes of this little adventure.”
He looked like a spider thinking about the flies. Manuel nodded.
“Still, that was nice. I know Antonio never thanked you, but I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it.”
“That’s only fitting, because I didn’t do it for him. I did it for you.”
There was another pause, and then, finally, Manuel forced it out:
“He… well, he asked me if I’d be interested in living with them. For a while. He and Lovina will be together now, and they… you know. Asked me.”
“… ah. I see.”
Another pause.
“Well then? What did you tell them?”
“That I’d talk to you. I mean… I know I was never the son you wanted, and I… tried, I guess, but there’s only so much I can do, right? So I thought - if you want me to go, I could- I mean-”
“You are exactly the son I wanted,” he said, surprised, “Manuel, what are you saying?”
He raised his face, meeting his father’s eyes.
Arthur looked baffled.
“I raised you! I- I literally chose you, no matter what that Italian airhead thinks. How- I know I don’t talk about it often, but you are the best son any man could possibly want. You never gave me any grief, you… you don’t have to try anything.”
He looked away, embarrassed at his own distasteful display of emotion.
Then, after a moment, he gave Manuel a handkerchief.
“Here, here, no need to cry. If you want to go to that sneaky son-stealing Spanish bastard, I’ll respect that. If you want to. I suppose you’ll be less lonely in that madhouse.”
Manuel blew his nose, cleaned his eyes, and then he held the poor hanky in his hands.
“No, I don’t want to. If you don’t want me to go, I was just thinking, I thought you’d be relieved. I’ll… it’s ok if I stay, then?”
Arthur’s snort was answer enough. He looked a little touched too, which, Manuel knew, was probably killing him.
So he cleared his throat, and tried to save the last shreds of his dignity.
“So, ah, I see you’re doing something, what is it? Is it a new project?”
“Oh, this. No, it’s just a small thing. It’s for your… for the kid from the restaurant.”
It was Manuel’s turn to stare. Arthur shrugged, and then raised his chin, as if he challenging his son to say anything.
“If he’s going to join the family, he needs a towel with his name. Here, I made two llamas, since he’s Peruvian.”
“He’s so not worth it,” Manuel said.
“He’s a nice kid. I’m thinking about helping him with the restaurant, too. Since he won’t have dirty money to fund his business anymore, he might need it. We could consider expanding our business. Ask him about it, will you? When you see him.”
“I will. And… thank you.”
He was still overwhelmed a few hours later, when Miguel came to pick him up.
They stared at each other for a few awkward seconds, and then Miguel smoothly grabbed his hand.
Manuel scowled at him, but didn’t pull it back. So they walked hand in hand down the stairs, until Miguel finally said:
“I feel like a weight dropped from my shoulders, you know?”
“Not owing your kidneys to criminals must be a relief.”
“… yes, that too, but I was talking about you. I had no idea how much I had missed your sour face and your whining.”
“I don’t whine.”
Miguel grinned. Manuel scoffed.
After a while, he added:
“Same. I guess I need a clown to make me lighten up once in a while.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, cheerfully, “You’d be so lost without me.”
They kept walking, getting farther from downtown. Manuel endured it for almost ten minutes, and then he gave up:
“Alright, where the hell are we going? There’s nothing here!”
“There’s the park, and a lake. Remember when we skipped class to feed the ducks, and then you whined for days because you got an A- the next day on the test?”
“I don’t whine! Are we going to a lake? To feed ducks?”
“Exactly! Just like in the old days.”
He was so happy, his grin so wide and free and bright, that Manuel had to admit his defeat.
“Fine. Whatever you say.”
“My favorite words, coming from you.”
Miguel squeezed his hand. Manuel stopped walking.
They looked at each other.
They never found who had made the first move, but in the next second they were kissing and the ducks would have to wait.
*
Maddie was waiting when the girls left the school to go back home.
“So, hm, I… I guess I should say I’m sorry,” Maddie said. She was looking anywhere but Alícia’s face.
“I guess you should,” Alícia said, crossing her arms.
“I just… well then… are you still mad at me?”
Alícia glared at her, and María tried to hide a smile. After a whole morning listening to her friend almost swoon over the blonde spy, she couldn’t take the stern face too seriously.
“I’m sorry,” Maddie said, almost pouting, “But I did save the day, eh? That should count for something. And I thought maybe you’d like to take a walk with me so we can talk about all this and maybe fix things between us because this is awkward and maybe eat something and then maybe you could say something too because you’re making me really nervous?”
Alícia considered it. Or pretended to, María was sure she was just wondering how someone could have eyes that big. And that blue.
This had been a recurrent point in their conversation.
“… I guess we could,” she said, grudgingly, “But if you’re still hiding some secret career thing from me, I’ll be very upset.”
“I’ll let Antonio know,” María said, as Maddie brightened up like a little blonde lamp, “Have fun, you too.”
They didn’t answer. María wanted to stay around to see if they would kiss - or, considering Maddie’s style, if they would sort of awkwardly brush their hands and pretend it had been an accident - but she didn’t have the time for that. She had to go to the hospital to find Martín.
*
In the end Henrique had to authorize the treatment, because Luciano was not exactly in a position to do it himself. It took less persuading than Feliciana anticipated, mostly because no one had any viable alternative and it was that or letting him fade away until he died.
Martín wrote about it the day the treatment started, simply because he couldn’t stop himself. He was going half-crazy with worry and there was no one he could talk to, because Henrique was a little insane himself, he was still awkward talking to Lovina and Antonio, and Martín was convinced that no one else cared as much as him.
Sebastián was furious when he found out about the article, but Martín wasn’t even listening. He just stared blankly as Sebastián ranted at him, and then Jake put his large hand on the nurse’s shoulder and led him away, holding him a little closer than he had to. And Sebastián let him.
After a while, María slipped her hand into Martín’s and they went out to take a walk. They sort of gravitated to the ice-cream place, and then, when she was eating it with her whole face as usual - even her hair had ice-cream in it - she looked up at him:
“So… fair warning: I invited Manuel to visit us today. I thought we should get to know each other better.”
Martín groaned.
He was completely failing to think of Manuel as his brother. All this was too strange.
“I just wanted to tell you something,” she said. Now she was back to avoiding his eyes, and for a second Martín thought she was talking to the ice-cream. “I don’t… this is all super confusing, and I know you’re more worried about Luciano anyway, but-”
“I’m not.”
“… I read your article. You’re so totally worried.”
“I just wanted to tell people about what was going on, they have the right to-”
“Martín, you said the world won’t be the same if he dies. You said your life will have no meaning and the universe will be a dark joyless place and-”
“I know what I wrote, thank you. I thought you wanted to talk to me.”
She smiled at the ice-cream, and then shrugged.
“Fine, fine. It’s silly, actually. It’s just that now our family will be, well, larger, and I wanted to let you know that I… well, I really really love you.”
“I know that-”
“No, shut up, listen to me. I'm used to having only you as my family, and now it won’t be like that, but I want you to know that… well, it’s you. It was always you. And I love you. There, now let’s pretend I never said anything because this is the-”
“No, wait, wait,” he grabbed her hands before she could run, and held them across the table as tightly as he could without hurting her. “I- I know I'm the- well… the most perfect brother, I know that, but you- you’re the… the most amazing and brilliant and perfect little sister, I just-”
“I know that,” she said, and grinned. Martín squeezed her hand, and pressed her fingers against his lips.
*
Henrique moved to his room when they said Luciano would wake up soon, and didn’t leave until he did.
He didn’t know what was going to happen, no one did, just that somehow, someway, his son was getting better, and that was more than enough for now. His career - that had seemed so important before - wasn’t relevant enough to be mentioned. He just wanted his boy to wake up.
So when Luciano opened his eyes, he was there to touch the top of his head as lightly as he could, pushing the stray curls away from his forehead.
“Hey there…”
Luciano looked at him, sleepy and confused. But the seconds stretched by and he didn’t fall asleep again, looking at his father as if trying to understand.
“Listen,” Henrique whispered, “I’m… we’re both terrible at apologies, aren’t we? So maybe we can start all over and skip that part?”
Luciano just blinked. He was - had been such a beautiful child, was such a beautiful young man now.
“I was always so proud of you. I’m so… I’ll let you rest now. You need it.”
But when he got up, Luciano’s eyes filled with alarm, and he let out a tiny, almost inaudible distressed whimper, so he sat down again, and went back to petting his hair.
Luciano never said a thing, but Henrique could swear he leaned into the touch.
*
Luciano was a little more awake when Martín finally convinced everyone to let him in. In the end it was mostly thanks to Jake - who was still hanging around no one knew exactly why - but he made it to the room, and found Luciano reclined in his pillows with a vague smile in his lips, looking at the walls as if they were a screen full of amazingly interesting things.
Well, he was heavily medicated.
Martín held his face in both hands and looked at him, at his dark bright eyes and the pretty mouth and the silly smile and every little trace and line of his face, and then he pressed a kiss to his lips.
“You idiot,” he said, “Never do that again, you hear me? I’m going to kill you.”
Luciano beamed at him. Clearly, he didn’t mind being held and kissed, or being threatened by this random visitor.
“I remember you,” he said, happily, “You gave me flowers. And you’re in love with me.”
“I never said that. I’m almost sure. How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Food, or something? Can you even have food? You look… God, Luciano, I mean it, don’t do that to me. I hate you.”
“No, you love me.” He lied down, and Martín helped him, fixing his pillows, making him comfortable. Luciano didn’t seem to notice it. “I’ll sleep now” he said, still sounding way happier than he should, “Kiss me again?”
“I’ll bite your nose off.”
His eyes were already closing, but this made him laugh. Martín kissed his lips again in the middle of the laughter, drinking up the sound he had been so afraid of never hearing again.
*~*~*
*~ Epilogue ~*
*~*~*
a few months later
Luciano sat in the bleachers, sort of folding into himself, and stared vacantly at the football court. He had come here to train... something, or see how bad he was after all that time without practicing.
The answer was: terrible. Mostly because he still couldn't do anything that took effort without almost passing out, which was stupid because he had always been pretty strong and healthy, except for that minor almost dying thing, and he was sure he just had to wait a few... months, maybe, and then everything would be fine.
He hid his face in his hands, and tried to believe it.
Which was why he almost jumped out of his skin when Martín's heavy arm felt around his shoulder.
“I'm getting really tired of your crap,” he said, pulling Luciano to himself and almost pushing him out of the seat, “Didn't I tell you to stay in bed?”
“Since when can you tell me what to do?”
Martín kissed him. Unlike the smile and his voice, the kiss was sweet, and kind and warm. Luciano grabbed his sleeve - it was the first thing he could find - and closed his eyes, and hoped it would go on forever.
It didn't, of course.
“I promised your father you'd rest,” Martín said, holding his chin, “And I'm sure you promised it too. What's wrong?”
Luciano hid his face in his neck. He didn't want to answer that. And yes, he had promised it, but dad was used to him breaking promises, especially about his health. And anyway he only had to take the elevator and cross the garden to reach the sports area, it wasn’t even too much effort.
Martín was running his fingers through his hair.
“Tell me, what's wrong? Tell me or I'll keep asking until you do.”
“You know what's wrong.”
“I have no idea. Wait, I do. I bet you missed me so much that you got depressed.”
Luciano punched his back. He could hear Martín laughing, so close to his ear, could feel the way it vibrated in his chest. He wasn't used to that yet - to loving the same person for more than a few weeks, going to bed with the same person every night, knowing them well enough to be used to their laughter.
He had a lot of people in his life, now. The crazy orphanage people, also known as his own crazy expanded family, the crazy hotel manager and the crazy restaurant owner and the crazy nurse and even the crazy spies who, for some reason, also checked on him sometimes. Usually wearing crazy disguises, he was getting a little weirded out with that.
And Martín.
That was a lot of craziness. And they loved him. Seemed to, anyway.
Still-
“What if I never come back?”
“Uh?”
He finally raised his face, and looked back at the field:
“I can't do anything else. I'm not good at anything else. What if I can't play again? What if-”
“What if you shut up,” Martín said, and kissed his lips a little more forcefully. And Luciano found himself the subject of a very fierce green glare. “You'll do whatever you want to, and anyway you're great at a lot of other things. So cut it out. You'll be fine. Which reminds me, I have to show you something.”
He got up, pulling Luciano with him.
“... I was having a moment, you know.”
“Yes, and you shouldn't. You'll hurt yourself doing that.”
Luciano let Martín drag him back to his apartment. Their apartment, now. Whatever. He sank in the couch, prepared to sulk for the rest of the afternoon.
“Here,” Martín said, a little too brightly, “It's my latest article.”
“... oh God.”
“I made a promise, right? And I could totally have broken it because you were unconscious and didn't know about it, so you better be grateful. Read it.”
It was two sheets that he had printed from his stupid newspaper's website, and Luciano skimmed over it. Then he stopped, went back to the beginning and read it again.
“... Wow. I didn't know I was so amazing,” he said, when he finished it. He was smiling, his good mood completely restored. “I mean... really? Do you really mean all that? For real?”
“You have no idea how much it cost me to write all this,” he said. His face was slightly flushed, his eyes were sparkling, and he clearly wanted to smile too. “All the pride I had to swallow. I mean it. I had infinite pride before that. Now I have none.”
Luciano started to read it again. Martin rolled his eyes.
“And now, the second gift.”
He went to the room he had turned into his own personal library, and came back holding a box.
Luciano guessed what it would be before he opened the lid.
“Martín, you're so crazy. Who'll take care of them?”
“No idea,” he said, obviously pleased with himself, “But I thought it was fitting. Did you like it?”
Inside the box were two little kitties. Luciano almost asked if they were the grandchildren of those first ones from so many years ago.
They were adorable.
“We need to get milk,” he said, “And... fish? What else do they eat? We need cat food. Hey, cutie... aren't you a cute little thing? Yes you are...”
Martín laughed, warm and loving, and then kissed his cheek. Luciano turned to him, offering his lips, and Martín held his chin.
“We should get the milk,” he whispered, “And then go to the bedroom. I'm in the mood to appreciate your gratitude.”
Luciano, who was about to enthusiastically agree, burst in laughter. He was still so totally going to have a moment later, but now he was feeling too happy. Martín being sweet had that effect on him.
Martín grinned too, happy like never before, and kissed him again.
*~THE END~*
Thank you everyone who read it, Meli who asked for this a million years ago, Aluha who sat with me and plotted the whole thing, and everyone who reviewed and gave me energy to work on this ♥ I LOVE ALL FIVE OF YOU ♥
Rating: Pgish, sort of. Maybe not.
Characters: Lots of characters in this chapter.
Warnings: This is an AU, so you'll have to ignore everything you know about family relations and things from what passes for canon at Latin Hetalia. I MEAN IT. BE WARNED.
As always, thanks to Zu for reading it over for me <3
Recap: In the previous chapter, Miguel and Manu had been kidnapped by Francis and the evil white-haired man. After getting valuable insights and some helpful advice from the captors, they were saved by a dozen people. Meanwhile, Maria was still in Italy, coming back with her mom and a possible cure for Luciano, who was still at the hospital. Martín was moping and Henrique was sighing. And that’s what you missed in TFHOL.
*~*~*
Episode 30
*~*~*
As much as María wanted to stay awake and talk to her mother, there was no way she'd be able to travel all the way back after the million hours it took her to go to Italy the first time. She passed out right after dinner.
It was a nice dinner. In Lovina’s private jet. The seats were better, too. They even had a couch. Lovina noticed her eyes starting to close, and pulled María to her shoulder.
María smiled.
“Mom... do you remember that song you used to sing? The one with the mother talking to the girl and the butterfly and things like that?”
“Gira l'amore! Of course I remember. You loved that one. Do you want me to sing?”
María nodded. She rested her head on Lovina's shoulder, and listened to the song as her mom held her hand.
When they finally arrived, they took a taxi and went straight to the hospital.
“I need to see the poor kid before he dies,” Feliciana cheerfully explained, “And I know you'll start fighting with Antonio, sorella, and then he'll want to know why María didn't tell him she was going to stay the night and this will take too much time.”
Lovina agreed, but only because she couldn't murder her own sister. Secretly, María thought it was a good idea.
Not murdering her. Going to the hospital first. She had no idea what Antonio would do when he saw his favorite Italian girl was back, especially considering that things were still not safe - María had tried to explain that part before the flight, but Lovina had refused to listen, too eager to see Martín and Manuel - and María didn’t want to deal with all that. So the rest of the family would have to wait.
Of course, she was out of luck, because when they arrived - with Lovina sulking because Feliciana hadn't let her rent a car to drive herself - María found Martín in the waiting room.
He looked tired, as if he hadn't closed his eyes all night, and too broken to be Martín. He was staring lifelessly at the wall, and María almost thought it was too late. Almost. She knew Martín wouldn't hang around in the hospital if Luciano had died, he would be sobbing somewhere else or at the cemetery threatening to jump in the grave. So there was hope yet.
His eyes hardened when he saw her.
“Just where the hell have you been,” he started, and then stopped when he saw Lovina and Feliciana. “What- how did you do that?”
“It's an insanely long story and, erm, you might have missed a few things that I found out, so, you see, she's, erm-”
“He has the same eyes,” Lovina whispered. She, on the other hand, was looking at Martín as if he were some sort of angel. “His father's eyes.”
“...really? I thought they looked like yours. Anyway-”
Martín looked from one to the other, utterly lost.
“My father? What? What's going on here?”
“Well, so, remember how Antonio always treated us differently, and how we were so sure he was our father, like, we even say it all the time, even if we were not supposed to, remember that? So it kinda turns out that he was, and mom, I mean, Lovina here is our-”
But Lovina wasn't in the mood to wait for her baby to catch up. She was already throwing her arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheeks and sobbing, and Martín must have guessed the rest of it on his own, because he raised his arms in an awkward hug and started to blink really hard.
“I'm sorry,” María said, trying to be heard above the string of loud Italian words, “I wanted to tell you before and none of this would have happened if Antonio had let me have a cellphone, I'm sorry!”
Martín didn't answer. He stood there as Lovina kissed him and held his face and kissed him again, and then tears started to run down his cheek and he still hadn't said anything, so María went there and put her arms around his waist, hiding her face in his chest. He held onto her and Lovina hugged them both, and the three of them stood there in the middle of the waiting room, crying together.
Feliciana beamed at them. For five seconds. Then she wandered off to talk to the doctors.
*
Which was when the rest of the gang finally arrived.
María had no idea what was going on, and Martín was too emotional right now to tell her, so when Antonio got there with Manuel, the Peruvian restaurant guy and a blond old man she had never seen before, plus Alfred, she took it in stride and decided to go sit in a corner and wait for the next events.
Antonio entered the waiting room as if it were his own battle field.
“Where is that asshole who calls himself my brother, I’ll kill him with my bare hands for what-”
And then he froze.
Lovina still had her arm around Martín’s waist. She turned to see what was all the commotion - her eyes red and swollen, her hair a little disheveled and her clothes wrinkled, looking stunningly beautiful even so - and then she saw Antonio. She gasped, a strangled whimper coming from her mouth, and then glared at him.
Antonio opened his mouth, forming a soundless word that maybe was her name, glued to that spot. And then everyone else stopped too, not willing to break the moment, except for Alfred, who winked at María and then came to sit by her side because he had no sense of drama. And then Lovina finally came back to her senses.
She went to him.
And slapped him hard across the face.
“You- you monster, how could you do this to me, I should kill you right now-” and a torrent of Italian swearing, and then Antonio’s arms were all around her and he was kissing her mouth and she grabbed his hair and his clothes as if she never wanted to let him go.
“So,” Alfred whispered, “Everything went well, I take.”
“I am so tired. I don’t know how I’m standing. What happened?”
“You’re not standing,” he said, cheerfully, “And we got the criminals. Maddie is taking care of them so they won’t escape, at least until we decide what to do about Antonio, who is a criminal too, but I don’t think they’re going to charge him, but he wanted to come here to get revenge on his brother and we need to talk to him anyway, so… yeah. I think that’s all you missed. Is your brother alright?”
Martín was sitting on the couch, looking like he had just spent fifteen solid minutes sobbing his eyes out, which, incidentally, was exactly what had happened. He was looking from the kissing couple to Maria to a suddenly very awkward Manuel, trying to process everything.
“He’ll be fine. Antonio wants revenge for what?”
“Well… that’s a long story. Do you… would you like to go outside? And eat something? And- erm- I know you’re going through a lot, so I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but in case you’re not, do you, like, remember what you did before leaving the car?”
María was insanely tired, everything was falling apart - to be rebuilt again in a different way, which was awesome, of course, but still exhausting - and she wasn’t sure she had cried all she had to cry, she had to talk to Martín and to Antonio and probably to Manuel and Luciano, she had made a twenty hours journey yesterday just to make another one today and maybe she was finally snapping, but-
“Of course I remember,” she said. Alfred smiled, looking shy for the first time since they had met, and then he kissed her lips.
It was a very soft, g-rated kiss, that no one even noticed with the crazy couple falling to the floor right in front of them, but it made her lips tingle, and she was smiling too when he pulled away.
*~*~*
Episode 31
*~*~*
Manuel knocked softly on the door, almost hoping he wouldn’t be heard. So he held back a sigh when he heard the ‘enter’ from inside.
His father was sitting on his favorite chair, catching up with his embroidery, and Manuel had a flash of days long gone, when he’d do exactly the same thing and play quietly in the carpet while his father worked on his little projects.
He had a nice collection of mini-cars back then. He wondered what had happened to them.
Arthur Kirkland looked up at him, and then nodded to the chair. Manuel sat down, and looked at his shoes.
“I… I heard you made a deal with Francis and Gilbert. That was… unexpected.”
“It was the only way. I’d love to get them in jail, but we couldn’t see a way to achieve that without implicating Antonio too.”
“Do you think they’ll keep their part? That they’ll stay clean?”
“Not at all,” Arthur said, a dark glee in his eyes, “But I have my money back, and I’ll keep an eye on them. I’m sure I’ll find a way to destroy them. I do, however, think that they’ll lie low for a while, which is more than what they were doing so far, so I’m pleased with the outcomes of this little adventure.”
He looked like a spider thinking about the flies. Manuel nodded.
“Still, that was nice. I know Antonio never thanked you, but I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it.”
“That’s only fitting, because I didn’t do it for him. I did it for you.”
There was another pause, and then, finally, Manuel forced it out:
“He… well, he asked me if I’d be interested in living with them. For a while. He and Lovina will be together now, and they… you know. Asked me.”
“… ah. I see.”
Another pause.
“Well then? What did you tell them?”
“That I’d talk to you. I mean… I know I was never the son you wanted, and I… tried, I guess, but there’s only so much I can do, right? So I thought - if you want me to go, I could- I mean-”
“You are exactly the son I wanted,” he said, surprised, “Manuel, what are you saying?”
He raised his face, meeting his father’s eyes.
Arthur looked baffled.
“I raised you! I- I literally chose you, no matter what that Italian airhead thinks. How- I know I don’t talk about it often, but you are the best son any man could possibly want. You never gave me any grief, you… you don’t have to try anything.”
He looked away, embarrassed at his own distasteful display of emotion.
Then, after a moment, he gave Manuel a handkerchief.
“Here, here, no need to cry. If you want to go to that sneaky son-stealing Spanish bastard, I’ll respect that. If you want to. I suppose you’ll be less lonely in that madhouse.”
Manuel blew his nose, cleaned his eyes, and then he held the poor hanky in his hands.
“No, I don’t want to. If you don’t want me to go, I was just thinking, I thought you’d be relieved. I’ll… it’s ok if I stay, then?”
Arthur’s snort was answer enough. He looked a little touched too, which, Manuel knew, was probably killing him.
So he cleared his throat, and tried to save the last shreds of his dignity.
“So, ah, I see you’re doing something, what is it? Is it a new project?”
“Oh, this. No, it’s just a small thing. It’s for your… for the kid from the restaurant.”
It was Manuel’s turn to stare. Arthur shrugged, and then raised his chin, as if he challenging his son to say anything.
“If he’s going to join the family, he needs a towel with his name. Here, I made two llamas, since he’s Peruvian.”
“He’s so not worth it,” Manuel said.
“He’s a nice kid. I’m thinking about helping him with the restaurant, too. Since he won’t have dirty money to fund his business anymore, he might need it. We could consider expanding our business. Ask him about it, will you? When you see him.”
“I will. And… thank you.”
He was still overwhelmed a few hours later, when Miguel came to pick him up.
They stared at each other for a few awkward seconds, and then Miguel smoothly grabbed his hand.
Manuel scowled at him, but didn’t pull it back. So they walked hand in hand down the stairs, until Miguel finally said:
“I feel like a weight dropped from my shoulders, you know?”
“Not owing your kidneys to criminals must be a relief.”
“… yes, that too, but I was talking about you. I had no idea how much I had missed your sour face and your whining.”
“I don’t whine.”
Miguel grinned. Manuel scoffed.
After a while, he added:
“Same. I guess I need a clown to make me lighten up once in a while.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, cheerfully, “You’d be so lost without me.”
They kept walking, getting farther from downtown. Manuel endured it for almost ten minutes, and then he gave up:
“Alright, where the hell are we going? There’s nothing here!”
“There’s the park, and a lake. Remember when we skipped class to feed the ducks, and then you whined for days because you got an A- the next day on the test?”
“I don’t whine! Are we going to a lake? To feed ducks?”
“Exactly! Just like in the old days.”
He was so happy, his grin so wide and free and bright, that Manuel had to admit his defeat.
“Fine. Whatever you say.”
“My favorite words, coming from you.”
Miguel squeezed his hand. Manuel stopped walking.
They looked at each other.
They never found who had made the first move, but in the next second they were kissing and the ducks would have to wait.
*
Maddie was waiting when the girls left the school to go back home.
“So, hm, I… I guess I should say I’m sorry,” Maddie said. She was looking anywhere but Alícia’s face.
“I guess you should,” Alícia said, crossing her arms.
“I just… well then… are you still mad at me?”
Alícia glared at her, and María tried to hide a smile. After a whole morning listening to her friend almost swoon over the blonde spy, she couldn’t take the stern face too seriously.
“I’m sorry,” Maddie said, almost pouting, “But I did save the day, eh? That should count for something. And I thought maybe you’d like to take a walk with me so we can talk about all this and maybe fix things between us because this is awkward and maybe eat something and then maybe you could say something too because you’re making me really nervous?”
Alícia considered it. Or pretended to, María was sure she was just wondering how someone could have eyes that big. And that blue.
This had been a recurrent point in their conversation.
“… I guess we could,” she said, grudgingly, “But if you’re still hiding some secret career thing from me, I’ll be very upset.”
“I’ll let Antonio know,” María said, as Maddie brightened up like a little blonde lamp, “Have fun, you too.”
They didn’t answer. María wanted to stay around to see if they would kiss - or, considering Maddie’s style, if they would sort of awkwardly brush their hands and pretend it had been an accident - but she didn’t have the time for that. She had to go to the hospital to find Martín.
*
In the end Henrique had to authorize the treatment, because Luciano was not exactly in a position to do it himself. It took less persuading than Feliciana anticipated, mostly because no one had any viable alternative and it was that or letting him fade away until he died.
Martín wrote about it the day the treatment started, simply because he couldn’t stop himself. He was going half-crazy with worry and there was no one he could talk to, because Henrique was a little insane himself, he was still awkward talking to Lovina and Antonio, and Martín was convinced that no one else cared as much as him.
Sebastián was furious when he found out about the article, but Martín wasn’t even listening. He just stared blankly as Sebastián ranted at him, and then Jake put his large hand on the nurse’s shoulder and led him away, holding him a little closer than he had to. And Sebastián let him.
After a while, María slipped her hand into Martín’s and they went out to take a walk. They sort of gravitated to the ice-cream place, and then, when she was eating it with her whole face as usual - even her hair had ice-cream in it - she looked up at him:
“So… fair warning: I invited Manuel to visit us today. I thought we should get to know each other better.”
Martín groaned.
He was completely failing to think of Manuel as his brother. All this was too strange.
“I just wanted to tell you something,” she said. Now she was back to avoiding his eyes, and for a second Martín thought she was talking to the ice-cream. “I don’t… this is all super confusing, and I know you’re more worried about Luciano anyway, but-”
“I’m not.”
“… I read your article. You’re so totally worried.”
“I just wanted to tell people about what was going on, they have the right to-”
“Martín, you said the world won’t be the same if he dies. You said your life will have no meaning and the universe will be a dark joyless place and-”
“I know what I wrote, thank you. I thought you wanted to talk to me.”
She smiled at the ice-cream, and then shrugged.
“Fine, fine. It’s silly, actually. It’s just that now our family will be, well, larger, and I wanted to let you know that I… well, I really really love you.”
“I know that-”
“No, shut up, listen to me. I'm used to having only you as my family, and now it won’t be like that, but I want you to know that… well, it’s you. It was always you. And I love you. There, now let’s pretend I never said anything because this is the-”
“No, wait, wait,” he grabbed her hands before she could run, and held them across the table as tightly as he could without hurting her. “I- I know I'm the- well… the most perfect brother, I know that, but you- you’re the… the most amazing and brilliant and perfect little sister, I just-”
“I know that,” she said, and grinned. Martín squeezed her hand, and pressed her fingers against his lips.
*
Henrique moved to his room when they said Luciano would wake up soon, and didn’t leave until he did.
He didn’t know what was going to happen, no one did, just that somehow, someway, his son was getting better, and that was more than enough for now. His career - that had seemed so important before - wasn’t relevant enough to be mentioned. He just wanted his boy to wake up.
So when Luciano opened his eyes, he was there to touch the top of his head as lightly as he could, pushing the stray curls away from his forehead.
“Hey there…”
Luciano looked at him, sleepy and confused. But the seconds stretched by and he didn’t fall asleep again, looking at his father as if trying to understand.
“Listen,” Henrique whispered, “I’m… we’re both terrible at apologies, aren’t we? So maybe we can start all over and skip that part?”
Luciano just blinked. He was - had been such a beautiful child, was such a beautiful young man now.
“I was always so proud of you. I’m so… I’ll let you rest now. You need it.”
But when he got up, Luciano’s eyes filled with alarm, and he let out a tiny, almost inaudible distressed whimper, so he sat down again, and went back to petting his hair.
Luciano never said a thing, but Henrique could swear he leaned into the touch.
*
Luciano was a little more awake when Martín finally convinced everyone to let him in. In the end it was mostly thanks to Jake - who was still hanging around no one knew exactly why - but he made it to the room, and found Luciano reclined in his pillows with a vague smile in his lips, looking at the walls as if they were a screen full of amazingly interesting things.
Well, he was heavily medicated.
Martín held his face in both hands and looked at him, at his dark bright eyes and the pretty mouth and the silly smile and every little trace and line of his face, and then he pressed a kiss to his lips.
“You idiot,” he said, “Never do that again, you hear me? I’m going to kill you.”
Luciano beamed at him. Clearly, he didn’t mind being held and kissed, or being threatened by this random visitor.
“I remember you,” he said, happily, “You gave me flowers. And you’re in love with me.”
“I never said that. I’m almost sure. How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Food, or something? Can you even have food? You look… God, Luciano, I mean it, don’t do that to me. I hate you.”
“No, you love me.” He lied down, and Martín helped him, fixing his pillows, making him comfortable. Luciano didn’t seem to notice it. “I’ll sleep now” he said, still sounding way happier than he should, “Kiss me again?”
“I’ll bite your nose off.”
His eyes were already closing, but this made him laugh. Martín kissed his lips again in the middle of the laughter, drinking up the sound he had been so afraid of never hearing again.
*~*~*
*~ Epilogue ~*
*~*~*
a few months later
Luciano sat in the bleachers, sort of folding into himself, and stared vacantly at the football court. He had come here to train... something, or see how bad he was after all that time without practicing.
The answer was: terrible. Mostly because he still couldn't do anything that took effort without almost passing out, which was stupid because he had always been pretty strong and healthy, except for that minor almost dying thing, and he was sure he just had to wait a few... months, maybe, and then everything would be fine.
He hid his face in his hands, and tried to believe it.
Which was why he almost jumped out of his skin when Martín's heavy arm felt around his shoulder.
“I'm getting really tired of your crap,” he said, pulling Luciano to himself and almost pushing him out of the seat, “Didn't I tell you to stay in bed?”
“Since when can you tell me what to do?”
Martín kissed him. Unlike the smile and his voice, the kiss was sweet, and kind and warm. Luciano grabbed his sleeve - it was the first thing he could find - and closed his eyes, and hoped it would go on forever.
It didn't, of course.
“I promised your father you'd rest,” Martín said, holding his chin, “And I'm sure you promised it too. What's wrong?”
Luciano hid his face in his neck. He didn't want to answer that. And yes, he had promised it, but dad was used to him breaking promises, especially about his health. And anyway he only had to take the elevator and cross the garden to reach the sports area, it wasn’t even too much effort.
Martín was running his fingers through his hair.
“Tell me, what's wrong? Tell me or I'll keep asking until you do.”
“You know what's wrong.”
“I have no idea. Wait, I do. I bet you missed me so much that you got depressed.”
Luciano punched his back. He could hear Martín laughing, so close to his ear, could feel the way it vibrated in his chest. He wasn't used to that yet - to loving the same person for more than a few weeks, going to bed with the same person every night, knowing them well enough to be used to their laughter.
He had a lot of people in his life, now. The crazy orphanage people, also known as his own crazy expanded family, the crazy hotel manager and the crazy restaurant owner and the crazy nurse and even the crazy spies who, for some reason, also checked on him sometimes. Usually wearing crazy disguises, he was getting a little weirded out with that.
And Martín.
That was a lot of craziness. And they loved him. Seemed to, anyway.
Still-
“What if I never come back?”
“Uh?”
He finally raised his face, and looked back at the field:
“I can't do anything else. I'm not good at anything else. What if I can't play again? What if-”
“What if you shut up,” Martín said, and kissed his lips a little more forcefully. And Luciano found himself the subject of a very fierce green glare. “You'll do whatever you want to, and anyway you're great at a lot of other things. So cut it out. You'll be fine. Which reminds me, I have to show you something.”
He got up, pulling Luciano with him.
“... I was having a moment, you know.”
“Yes, and you shouldn't. You'll hurt yourself doing that.”
Luciano let Martín drag him back to his apartment. Their apartment, now. Whatever. He sank in the couch, prepared to sulk for the rest of the afternoon.
“Here,” Martín said, a little too brightly, “It's my latest article.”
“... oh God.”
“I made a promise, right? And I could totally have broken it because you were unconscious and didn't know about it, so you better be grateful. Read it.”
It was two sheets that he had printed from his stupid newspaper's website, and Luciano skimmed over it. Then he stopped, went back to the beginning and read it again.
“... Wow. I didn't know I was so amazing,” he said, when he finished it. He was smiling, his good mood completely restored. “I mean... really? Do you really mean all that? For real?”
“You have no idea how much it cost me to write all this,” he said. His face was slightly flushed, his eyes were sparkling, and he clearly wanted to smile too. “All the pride I had to swallow. I mean it. I had infinite pride before that. Now I have none.”
Luciano started to read it again. Martin rolled his eyes.
“And now, the second gift.”
He went to the room he had turned into his own personal library, and came back holding a box.
Luciano guessed what it would be before he opened the lid.
“Martín, you're so crazy. Who'll take care of them?”
“No idea,” he said, obviously pleased with himself, “But I thought it was fitting. Did you like it?”
Inside the box were two little kitties. Luciano almost asked if they were the grandchildren of those first ones from so many years ago.
They were adorable.
“We need to get milk,” he said, “And... fish? What else do they eat? We need cat food. Hey, cutie... aren't you a cute little thing? Yes you are...”
Martín laughed, warm and loving, and then kissed his cheek. Luciano turned to him, offering his lips, and Martín held his chin.
“We should get the milk,” he whispered, “And then go to the bedroom. I'm in the mood to appreciate your gratitude.”
Luciano, who was about to enthusiastically agree, burst in laughter. He was still so totally going to have a moment later, but now he was feeling too happy. Martín being sweet had that effect on him.
Martín grinned too, happy like never before, and kissed him again.
*~THE END~*
Thank you everyone who read it, Meli who asked for this a million years ago, Aluha who sat with me and plotted the whole thing, and everyone who reviewed and gave me energy to work on this ♥ I LOVE ALL FIVE OF YOU ♥