Autumn, 1939

A village in Italy

.

"Don't get too far ahead, Feliciano!" called Grandpa Roma. It was a sunny autumn morning, and the village bustled with activity as Lovino and Grandpa Roma walked leisurely along the cobblestone streets. In the last few months, the everyday, unchanging village existence Lovino had lived in his entire life had turned upside down. Already there was not enough produce at the market. People whispered on street corners, dark murmurings and rumours and half broken conversations. Grandpa Roma spent all his time at the old Cantina Verde talking with people instead of in the fields. But today, with the sun shining and the streets crowded, it almost seemed like a normal day in the village once again. It was a nice change. People stopped frequently to say good morning to Roma or to give a cheerful greeting to Feliciano, though Lovino was not surprised that no one spared a moment for him. The three of them were headed to the cantina, and as usual Feliciano kept getting excited over nothing, skipping and running ahead.

"I can't help it that you're walking so slow!" Feliciano called back. "Hurry up, we have to stop at the fountain, Lovino and I always stop at the fountain when we come to town, I even have a coin and I already know what I'm going to wish for and oh, hello Antonio!"

Lovino nearly tripped over. His pulse quickened when he caught sight of Antonio walking through the crowd and waving cheerfully. "Good morning, Feli! Roma." Antonio's smile brightened. "Lovino." Lovino quickly averted his eyes.

Antonio had come and gone frequently from the village in the last months, but these last few days were the longest he had stayed since he had first dropped into their lives back in spring. Lovino had spent the days trying unsuccessfully to ignore both Antonio and the way he made him feel. Although Antonio had not said anything to make Lovino punch him again, he still managed to make Lovino's heart pound uncomfortably and cause an unwanted and embarrassing blush to spread from his neck. Especially when he thought he caught Antonio staring at him... he was never quite sure, however, since the Spaniard always looked away immediately. Antonio was so friendly, so happy, so different to everyone else who always ignored Lovino in favour of his little brother. Even the way Antonio said Lovino's name was different. Lovino was not sure how to understand it – a grown man should not make him feel like this. It was frustrating, and confusing, and just a little scary... but also, secretly, strangely new and exciting.

Roma stopped briefly and shook Antonio's hand affectionately in greeting. "Antonio! Are you just heading to the cantina now? Your rooms are directly opposite, aren't they?"

"They are, but it is such a fine morning I had to take a walk. If you are headed that way now, I'll join you." They continued walking with Antonio beside them; Lovino ignoring him, Feliciano jumping excitedly around him.

"Antonio, will you come to the fountain with us? Lovino and I are going to throw in coins the way Grandpa says they do in Rome and make wishes and..."

"You're going to, Feliciano, I don't do that sort of thing," said Lovino quickly.

Feliciano turned and looked at him strangely. "Yes you do."

Lovino tried to stop his cheeks from burning. "I used to, when I was a kid!"

"But you did it last week, remember, you wished for a guitar like you always... ow! Why did you kick me, Lovino?"

Antonio laughed loudly. "That sounds like fun, Feliciano! I think I'll throw a coin in myself!"

"What will you wish for?" asked Feliciano eagerly.

"Ah, but if you tell anyone what you wish for, it won't come true." Antonio winked at Lovino. Lovino scowled back.

Feliciano's face fell. "Really? But I always tell Lovino what I wish for, and my wishes always come true..."

"That's because you wish for pasta," said Lovino, slightly exasperated. "Every single time you wish for pasta, and then we go home and have pasta, and you act all surprised that your wish came true."

"But I can never think of anything else I want!"

Lovino rolled his eyes at Grandpa Roma, who just laughed affectionately. Offered his choice of anything in the entire world, Feliciano would naturally choose a bowl of pasta.

"Don't listen to your brother, Feliciano," said Roma merrily. "There are worse things you could..."

The street grew suddenly quiet, Roma trailing off as the heavy, even sound of marching approached. Lovino did not see who it was before Grandpa Roma stepped in front of him and used his arm to push Lovino back off the street. Beside them Antonio did the same to Feliciano. Everyone on the road shrunk back as the marching footsteps grew closer. Lovino peered around Roma's shoulder as rows of black-garbed military marched down the street, their weapons conspicuously on display, the sound of their boots echoing sinisterly off the silent buildings and the sweep of their eyes seeming to drown out the sun. Lovino trembled slightly in spite of himself, watching them march past with a strange mixture of anger and fear and uncertainty. Beside him Feliciano had his eyes squeezed shut as he clung, shaking, to the back of Antonio's shirt. When the troops finally reached the end of the street and turned into the town square, Lovino let out a deep breath and looked from Grandpa Roma to Antonio. Their faces were blank.

"Who are they?" asked Feliciano softly, his voice trembling.

"Fasci di Combattimento," said Antonio flatly. "Blackshirts."

"No one," said Roma immediately. "Lovino, take Feliciano to the cantina. Go the back way."

"Why?" asked Lovino angrily. "Where are you going?"

"Lovino," said Roma warningly. "Take Feliciano to the cantina. We will not be far behind."

"They're the government forces, aren't they?" asked Lovino insistently, ignoring Roma's command as long as he could. Lovino knew that Grandpa Roma had always been opposed to the fascist government. But these things never seemed of much importance in their little corner of Italy, where talk of the government and its movements was practically nonexistent. Or had been, until recently. "They're the fascist ones, the ones that agree with Germ..."

"LOVINO!" Lovino jumped at Roma's shout, and Feliciano actually gasped. Roma closed his eyes, smoothed his forehead, then forced his lips into a smile. He leant forward slightly and spoke softly. "You are right, Lovino, of course. But we don't speak of these things in the street. Now you will look after your brother, won't you?"

Lovino narrowed his eyes. That was playing dirty... of course Lovino would look after Feliciano. Looking sideways at his brother, Lovino could see that he was terrified. He sighed wearily to himself and took Feliciano's hand. Feliciano clung to it immediately. "Fine. We'll be at the cantina."

"Good boy," said Roma. Lovino glanced at Antonio quickly, embarrassed, but barely registered the man's expression before turning away.

"Come on, Feliciano, let's go have some of that lemonade you like."

Feliciano followed eagerly. Lovino walked away reluctantly, but not before he heard Roma's words behind him. "They are here, finally. That must mean they have a list of citizens."

"Don't worry, Roma." Antonio's words voice sent an unfamiliar thrill down Lovino's spine. "I'll get you that list."

.

Lovino sat alone and ignored at the cantina, carelessly swinging his feet from a table and crossing his arms sullenly. Feliciano sat at a table in the corner, so engrossed in the picture he was drawing he had barely looked up for an hour. Lovino stared at the closed door to the next room, silently fuming as Grandpa Roma and Antonio carried on a private conversation that Lovino was, once again, denied from hearing. He was sick of never being told anything, of being treated like a child. Grandpa Roma had already explained they were a resistance, but Lovino did not even know what that meant except that he was never allowed to speak of it and never allowed to know exactly what was going on. But he wanted to know. He wanted to know what this 'information' Antonio always brought with him was. He wanted to know where Antonio went when he disappeared for weeks at a time. But more than anything, Lovino burned with curiosity to know what Grandpa Roma and Antonio and the rest of the Resistenza actually did when they went on these 'missions' that seemed so important, missions they spent days planning with maps and weapons and secrecy.

Lovino glanced from Feliciano to the closed door. Surely his brother would not notice if he went and listened... Lovino's curiosity quickly got the better of him. Lovino was quite used to this by now, but if no one ever told him anything, what other choice did he have? He jumped off the table and hurried over to the door to catch what sounded like the end of the conversation.

"Get in and get out, Antonio. You have the false information for them?"

"I have everything. Don't worry, Roma. I've dealt with this man before, it will take me only minutes to get that list."

"Good. Because minutes is all you have. There is a car for you at the end of the street. The one marked with red."

Lovino did not stop to think. If he did, he might start to reason with himself. He might force himself to stop and analyse the situation. He might realise that this was an incredibly stupid thing to do. But he refused to do any of that. He just ran from the cantina, ran to the end of the street, and stopped when he saw a vehicle parked alone with a small red cloth hanging from the window. It was more a truck than a car, the tray at the back completely smothered by a dark canvas covering. His heart pounding, his skin burning, but his mind still refusing to think, Lovino rushed over and threw the heavy material back. Then, determined not to think about what he was doing, he climbed into the back of the truck and threw the covering back over himself.

Darkness engulfed him and a strong, unpleasant metallic smell overpowered his senses. Lovino fought to control his rapid heartbeat and his harsh, heavy breathing. Fought to remain calm. He was going to see what was going on. He was going to be involved in this. He was going to force them all to finally tell him exactly what a resistance actually did. But with only blackness before his eyes, and everything silent but for the blood pulsing in his ears, Lovino's mind finally started to turn. What the hell had he done? What was he doing? Why the hell was he sitting here in the back of this truck about to go God knows where for God knows what reason? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all...

A deep guttural roar tore through the back of the truck, the vehicle shaking as the engine blasted to life. Fear rose in Lovino's throat. He clawed urgently at the covering, but it was too late. The truck took off and Lovino could do nothing but sit in the dark, willing his frantic heart to slow down, trying to stop himself thinking again. Thankfully the drive was not far, though Lovino was sure it felt longer than it actually was. He wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or terrified when the truck finally stopped and the engine fell quiet. And when he heard Antonio's voice only right beside him, Lovino didn't know if he wanted to jump out of the truck and cling to him desperately or just jump out of the truck and run the hell away. He decided his best bet was just to stay where he was until this whole business was over. No one would ever even know he was here...

"Are all the civilians out of the building?" came Antonio's voice. Lovino found it oddly reassuring, then felt immediately angry that he did.

"All out," replied an unfamiliar voice. "Only your two blackshirts in there. You've got twenty minutes, Carriedo. Twenty minutes and I'll have this car blown sky high."

Lovino was sure he felt his heart stop in his chest. He couldn't breathe. So much for staying where he was...

"I'll have what I need by then," said Antonio.

"Good," replied the stranger's voice. "I won't be in sight. So do not be late, understand?"

"Right." Lovino waited as long as he dared, his heart pounding, sweat rising at the edges of his hair. Finally, knowing he could not stay in the truck, and hoping the stranger had gone, Lovino knocked frantically against the wall beside him. Only a second later the cover flew away above him, he blinked in the sudden sunlight, and Antonio swore loudly. "Mierda!"

"Please don't blow me up," Lovino whispered.

"What the... ay Dios mio... damn it, Lovino, you have to get out of this car." Antonio grabbed Lovino by the arm and helped him scramble out of the truck. His expression was completely shocked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

His feet stumbling to the ground, Lovino scowled angrily and prepared a vicious verbal attack. "I just wanted to see what you were doing, no one tells me anything, I..."

"Listen to me." Lovino fell quiet at the chilling, warning tone in Antonio's voice. He had never heard it before. "I don't know whatyou're thinking, but you have to do what I say now, understand?"

Lovino mustered just enough irritation through his alarm to sound indignant. "Who the hell do you think..."

"Lovino, I am deadly serious." And then Lovino fell silent again. Antonio had never spoken like this before. He was like a different person. "Keep quiet," Antonio continued. "Do not say a word. Stay by my side. And promise me, that you will do everything I say, no questions."

"I..."

"Promise me." Antonio's eyes were hard, his voice commanding. Lovino gulped back another protest.

"I promise." Lovino was almost surprised at his words, but he did not seem to have an option to do or say otherwise.

Someone appeared at the door of the building beside them and yelled out angrily. "Carriedo, are you joining us or what?" Lovino realised with a shock that he was a blackshirt, one of the fascist government forces that had only just arrived in this part of Italy. The blackshirt looked strangely at Lovino before disappearing into the building, and it finally sunk in just what a stupid, stupid thing Lovino had done. Terror clouded his mind and he stood still, refusing to move even when Antonio took his hand and pulled.

"You'll be all right, Lovino. I won't let anything happen to you." Antonio squeezed his hand and for a moment that cheerful smile was back in place, that gleam in his eyes. Lovino was slightly comforted to see it, but he still pulled back against Antonio's hold.

"I'll... I'll just wait outside..."

Antonio looked almost sorry. "That's too suspicious. Just keep your promise and you'll be fine."

"Oh my God." Lovino crossed himself, an old nervous habit, and Antonio squeezed his hand again.

The room looked like an abandoned pub. A battered looking bar ran along the side wall and a few broken tables and knocked over chairs littered the floor. The blackshirt who had called out from the door leant over a table covered with papers, and another sat back in a chair, eyeing them warily. Lovino clung to Antonio's hand, beyond worrying what the blackshirts or even he himself thought, until Antonio released him and stared at him coolly. His entire demeanour changed in an instant. "Go sit at the bar, boy."

Lovino's eyes widened for the briefest moment, surprised and infuriated, before he remembered his promise. He headed to the barstool closest to the door, praying this would all be over quickly.

"Carriedo, haven't seen you in a while." The standing blackshirt nodded at Antonio, who smiled carefully back. Lovino got the feeling this was the superior officer.

"You know how things are escalating, my friend. I find my time increasingly pressed these days - so I need to make this quick. Surprising to see you down this way, however."

The officer rolled his eyes. "It's a damned insult, being posted here to the arsehole of Italy. Arresting pathetic would-be resistance members. It's a joke."

Antonio laughed, but it wasn't the carefree, joyful laugh that Lovino knew. It was cold, and cruel, and it scared him. "That's actually why I'm here, as I am sure you know. My superiors require that list of yours. We need to destroy this fledgling Resistenza before things go too far."

The sitting blackshirt scoffed and folded his arms before him. "And just why - I would like to know, and have yet to be informed - should we give this important information over to you? It is our job to crush this resistance, too."

Antonio spread his hands placatingly and grinned. It was as cold and joyless as his laugh. "My friend. We are all on the same side here. You work for the greater good, I work for the greater good. And as my friend here can attest," Antonio nodded towards the officer, "My superiors are always good in rewarding those who help us achieve our aims. Besides, I do not expect you to give me this for nothing." Antonio took a thick wad of paper from inside his shirt, walked over to the men, and tossed it onto the mass of papers that already littered the table. "I believe this information will garner you quite enough favour and respect in the eyes of your superiors, even if you are not the ones to dispose of this resistance." The two men immediately reached for the papers and started rifling through them.

Lovino found himself transfixed as he watched. This was not the Antonio he knew, the one with the ready laugh and sparkling eyes and overwhelming generosity, who always brought presents and silly stories and played along with Feliciano's stupid games. But then, Lovino hadn't known Antonio for long at all. Was it just that he was only now seeing the true character of the man? He was torn between an infuriating fear, and a strange, unfamiliar sort of fascinated curiosity. All his thoughts were abruptly broken off, however, when the sitting blackshirt fixed him with a dark, curious glare. "Who is this boy of yours, Carriedo?"

Lovino's pulse thrummed so fast he felt dizzy; his neck burned with a sickening heat. He tried desperately to push down his rising panic. Antonio had said he wouldn't let anything happen to him. Lovino had no choice but to trust him.

"He's no one," said Antonio quickly, smiling in that cruel, fake way.

"No one?" The blackshirt looked suspicious. "No one, who is just sitting here listening to us talk about top secret matters?"

Antonio looked from the blackshirt to Lovino. Lovino gazed back, eyes wide, this unreal fear refusing to subside. Antonio's eyes betrayed no hint of emotion. "Just something I picked up in the neighbouring village," he said smoothly, staring back at the blackshirt. "Now can we make this quick? I'm not paying this kid any more than I have to."

Both blackshirts laughed knowingly, their stares growing sneering and increasingly unpleasant. Lovino's shoulders stiffened, the burn in his neck spreading repulsively. He shrunk back into the bar behind him, regretting the stupid impulse that had led him here, wishing madly that he could somehow go back and get out of this. He tried to shout at Antonio without words. Get me out of here, you bastard... stop acting like this... oh God, make them stop looking at me like that...

"Well, now we know why you're in such a damned hurry!" said the blackshirt, standing and kicking his chair behind him, his savage eyes fixed on Lovino. Lovino bit his lip so hard he tasted blood.