By the time they ambled slowly back to the tree-lined path, the sky had grown dark, the half-full moon beaming through a gap in the clouds to faintly illuminate the surrounding fields. The herb-scented wind was turning colder by the minute, a chilling breeze that promised a swift and bitter change to the mild winter weather. Yet for all Antonio cared, the sky could have been raining fire. Mere hours earlier, he'd been prepared for death. Now, his head was giddy with joy, and he had to keep looking down at his arm around Lovino's waist to make sure this was real. Lovino limped heavily on his ankle as they walked, his body warm where it pressed sideways against Antonio, his hands fidgeting awkwardly like he did not know what to do with them. He always did look so beautiful in the moonlight.

"And that one there..." Antonio pointed up at the infinite, star-clustered sky, "...is called the wheelbarrow!"

"The wheelbarrow?" Lovino repeated flatly, his expression a complicated mixture of mirth, derision, and outright pity.

"Yes!" said Antonio, blithely ignoring Lovino's tone. Right now, he was more than happy to be subjected to Lovino's scorn. After those paralysing moments hiding from a German patrol, Antonio was more than happy with any reaction from Lovino that wasn't utter terror or misguided embarrassment. This was Antonio's real duty, after all – his happy, real, important duty - to distract his little Italian from his own darkness. Whether that meant dancing in an empty cantina, or giving him riddles shaped like tomatoes, or, currently, pretending to be an astronomer. "The outer moons form the handles there, and there, and that asteroid belt looks like a bit of grass stuck in the wheel, do you see?"

"No." Lovino did not even bother looking. The sky was just light enough to show the gold in his eyes, and the suppressed laughter behind them. "There is no constellation called the wheelbarrow. You made it up. You're making all this up."

Antonio managed an exaggerated, affronted huff. "I am not!"

Lovino raised a sceptical eyebrow. "The Big Tomato?"

"Hey?" Antonio actually thought that one was fairly believable. "The Big Tomato is a very ancient, very important constellation!"

"To who?"

"To... uh..." Antonio thought quickly. "...the druids."

"The druids?" Lovino nearly scoffed outright. "Despite the fact that tomatoes originated in Mexico, and were not grown in Britain until the late sixteenth century?"

Antonio determinedly pressed on. "Yes. The Big Tomato was a very important constellation to the Mexican druids."

Lovino's breath spun warm in the cold evening air, catching in a hitch before it could turn to laughter. He quickly looked away, impatiently brushing a stray lock of hair. "Your understanding of history is as exhaustive as your knowledge of constellations."

"Thank you, Lovino!" said Antonio brightly, ignoring Lovino's familiar nerves and barely veiled sarcasm. He just pointed again up at a bright cluster of stars. "That one, there, is Orion's Collar."

"Belt, actually."

Antonio had no idea where he was pointing, and was quite aware that Lovino knew it too. "And there's the Big Bear..."

"Ursa Major," Lovino sighed, but with the tiniest tug at the corner of his lip. "And it's over there."

"And oh, there's my favourite." Antonio pointed directly at the brightest star in the sky, shining brilliantly through a gap in the grey, misty clouds. He knew this one. "Venus. I like Venus."

"Venere," Lovino corrected into Italian, "is not a constellation."

"No. He is a star," said Antonio proudly.

Lovino touched a pained hand to his forehead. "Wrong. Again. Sheis a planet."

Antonio broke into a delighted grin. There was no way he was going to win this one - but that didn't matter. What mattered was that Lovino was not scared, or embarrassed, or lost in his own dark thoughts. True he was probably thinking Antonio was a bit simple, but Antonio was rather used to people thinking that of him. "All right, Lovino, I give up. I can not help that I am not as clever as you."

Lovino pulled back, lowered his head, and muttered, almost inaudibly, "I didn't say that, idiot."

Oh, no. That would not do. Antonio laughed as lightly as he could manage, while his chest ached at how easily Lovino could take offence and draw into himself. "Now, just one more thing about Venere..." Antonio took Lovino's hand and lifted it with his own to point up at the sparkling planet. The touch shivered across his skin, and he pretended not to notice Lovino's sharp breath. "Did you know, that she is named for the Roman Goddess of love?"

Slowly, cautiously, Lovino raised his eyes to meet Antonio's. Antonio could almost see the thoughts running behind them, glistening gold in the darkness. He was so close; his hair smelt of lavender. Antonio's heart stuttered a little, until Lovino finally shrugged a shoulder in an obvious attempt at indifference. "No. I didn't know that."

At that, Antonio's heart nearly burst in his chest. Of course Lovino knew that. Everyone knew that, let alone someone as smart as Lovino. Antonio almost felt lightheaded that Lovino would pretend otherwise for the sake of sparing his feelings. It was fascinating how deep Lovino's thoughts went; how strong his emotions, how gold his eyes... Before he even realised what he was doing, Antonio brought Lovino's hand to his lips and kissed it. Immediately, Lovino's eyes went wide, his lips parted, his breath quickened...

Too fast.

Antonio lowered Lovino's hand and looked forward. "One day, Lovino." He tightened his arm around Lovino's waist as they continued walking at their slow, ambling pace. "One day, we'll go up there. Just ordinary people, like you and me. We'll go to the moon, and to Venere, and maybe even to the Big Tomato. We'll go up there and touch the stars."

"You're mad." Lovino sounded a little breathless, his feet slightly unsteady on the path.

"But just imagine it, Lovino!" Antonio easily steadied Lovino, smoothly overlooking his sudden issues with coordination. "Imagine if mankind reached for the stars instead of trying so desperately to annihilate each other."

Lovino remained silent, and Antonio let himself wonder. If mankind reached for the stars... Well, then there would be no time for absurd things like tanks and torture, assassinations and espionage; maybe by then, mankind would realise what a truly senseless thing it was to extinguish life by the millions.

By now, Antonio barely even noticed where they were going. When they turned a bend in the road, Lovino halted abruptly. "Stop."

Antonio did so, his body tensing with alarm. "What is it?"

Lovino did not answer. He simply stared straight ahead. Antonio followed his gaze to the soft, glowing lights of the Vargas farmhouse up ahead. Lovino pressed the faintest touch closer, and Antonio did not dare ask again. Because Antonio could read the emotions in Lovino's face. The uncertainty; the emptiness. Lovino did not want to go home.

Until now, Antonio hadn't realised how deeply silent the countryside was in the starlit evening. No distant engines, or echoing bomb blasts. None of those unwelcome reminders that war still raged around them. With nothing but the gusting wind and Lovino's quiet, gentle breaths, this might be any peaceful, easy evening on a cool Italian winter's night. But the moment Lovino's warm weight shifted, his shoulders slumped and his arms clutched to his chest, Antonio knew that though this night seemed peaceful, it was anything but easy. He searched for something, anything, to soften this sudden sadness.

"Have you solved the mystery of your tomato yet?"

The words came unbidden, but they seemed to work. Lovino startled immediately. He blinked wildly, looking momentarily thrown, then confused, then rather annoyed. All traces of sadness diminished and he just spat, "That stupid thing. I've barely thought of it."

Antonio brightened instantly. Lovino's vehement denial was simply proof to the contrary. "That's a real shame," Antonio said, casually. "Because, you see..." He leant closer, until his lips touched Lovino's hair and his stomach turned in fiery circles. "...it's a top secret message," he finished in a whisper.

Lovino's eyes widened, darkened, before growing suspicious and rolling upward. "So you're a code writer, now?" he asked sarcastically.

Antonio puffed out his chest and gave an arrogant nod. "One of the best. The British army wanted me, you know, but I've never been good with pigeons. And, of course, my heart always lay with astronomy."

That was almost too much. Lovino almost laughed. He broke into a coughing fit to hide it. Antonio continued eagerly, while he had the advantage: "You must decipher the tomato code, read the secret message, then relate the words immediately back to me, understand?"

"Tomato code?" Lovino broke off coughing to groan in disbelief. He pushed Antonio's shoulder with surprising force and awkwardly limped away. "You don't have to make fun of me."

"No, no, Lovino, I would never!" Antonio hurried to follow, giggling madly and trying in vain to keep his arm around Lovino's waist. After all, he didn't want Lovino to fall, and the need to see him smile was like a physical ache. "It is very important, once you have the secret tomato words you must..."

"Secret tomato words?!" Lovino's tone grew increasingly exasperated, his hands clenched in fists, though he was unable to control his smile as he limped furiously towards the house.

"Wait!" cried Antonio, rather surprised at Lovino's speed, and rather elated by his smile. "Wait, Lovino, your ankle!"

Lovino drew a breath like a warning and batted Antonio's hand away, but a gasp of laughter finally burst from his lips. "I'm fine!"

Antonio's chest flipped. Lovino's laughter was still the most wonderful sound he had ever heard. He had to hear more of it... "Don't be silly, you are injured, lean into me..."

Lovino's eyes flashed wildly. "You perverted..."

Antonio placed a hand on his back... "Hush, that's the pain speaking..."

"I don't need your help!" Lovino promptly stumbled on the steps leading to the door.

Antonio gleefully hurried to steady him. "Here, let me carry you inside..."

"WHAT?!" By this stage Lovino was shaking with helpless laughter, his arms tangled with Antonio's in another half-hearted, ineffectual attempt to push him away. Lovino's eyes were bright with mirth, the clear, genuine joy in his face sending Antonio's heart into a frenzy. "Get off, you're crazy, I..."

The front door swung open. Antonio froze, Lovino almost choked, and both their voices died in their throats. Roma stood in the doorway. His expression was unreadable, but for the strong, piercing disapproval in his eyes.

Well, perfect. Antonio suppressed his regret, took a careful, difficult step away from Lovino, and plastered a grin onto his face. "Evening, Roma!"

Not taking his eyes from Antonio, Roma replied with, "Go inside, Lovino."

Antonio's muscles tensed. Lovino hesitated, clenched his fists, opened his mouth as though to speak... then stepped through the door with a resigned sigh. Antonio fought his own sense of disappointment. After all, what else could Lovino do? What could Antonio do? This was Roma's house. Antonio watched as Lovino limped a few steps inside before turning to listen, his eyes wary and his hands fidgeting and his hair glinting in the light of the blazing fireplace...

Antonio reluctantly tore his eyes away, cleared his throat, and bounced on his heels. "Well, then. I guess I'll be..."

Roma interrupted harshly. "There has been an incident. An execution in the town square."

Antonio's gut clenched, his smile fell, and his mind shot into focus. An execution. The words flicked a switch inside him, and the last of his good humour faded away. An execution meant an interrogation. An interrogation meant a possible transfer of information. Information transfer meant... Antonio felt his nails dig into his palms. "Who?"

Roma answered vaguely, obviously attempting caution in front of Lovino. "The operation this morning did not go according to plan."

Lovino spoke one word; quick, sharp, panicked... "Feliciano..."

"Feli is all right," Roma reassured with a brief lift of his hand. "Just exhausted. He is already asleep."

Antonio thought quickly. He would have to act fast on this. If Feliciano had witnessed the incident, he could tell Antonio the number of soldiers involved; the method of killing; the reaction of the villagers... "Did Feliciano see the execution?"

Roma's shift in position answered the question. He stood taller, arms folded, shoulders tensed like the muscles were bunching under the skin. When he spoke, it was dangerously controlled. "You will not question him, Antonio."

Antonio's face hardened at the steady answer, his skin prickling unpleasantly. He subtly moved to mirror Roma's stance, and struggled to keep his frustration from seeping into his voice. "It is my job to ask these questions, Roma."

"It is not your job to torment my grandson." Roma leant forward threateningly, blocking the doorway, and lowered his voice to a hostile growl. "He is distressed enough from the experience. You will not make him relive it."

For a long moment, Antonio glared at Roma, letting that intense, severe expression glare back just as sharply. Roma was a man of courage, a leader of men, but he did not understand the stakes here. He no longer had the luxury of treating his grandsons as children. That execution could have been any of them. And as Antonio stared unblinking into those hard, dark eyes, he could not suppress the small, dark voice that whispered in his head: Lovino is no longer yours to protect. He is mine.

But keenly aware of Lovino watching, and careful not to let real anger set in, Antonio finally gave a terse nod. "All right. There are other ways I can find out."

"I am counting on it. We'll speak tomorrow, Antonio."

Counting on it. Of course he was. Counting on Antonio to do the dirty work; counting on Antonio to accept Roma's order and do his bidding. Antonio kept his head high as he turned away. He did not do this for Roma. He did this for freedom, he did this for Italy, he did this for what was right...

Liar. You do this for Lovino.

Antonio did not look back as he left.

.

The thud of the closing door was like a blow to Lovino's chest, quickly fading into a heavy, engulfing loneliness that was almost comforting in its familiarity. The exchange between Grandpa Roma and Antonio had lasted mere moments, but it left Lovino empty and angry, plainly aware that more had just occurred than it seemed. He doubted, however, he would be told anything further. He never was, after all.

The lamps were low, most of the room's light coming from the roaring fire. Cold wind battered against the windows, promising wilder weather to come. Lovino felt battered himself by this draining day. He was so tired of everything feeling so difficult. So tired of being scared; so tired of having something so wonderful, so right, so perfect, only to watch it walk away.

Grandpa Roma headed for the table, where a bottle of wine sat beside a messy stack of papers. It was nearly empty. Roma poured another glass and sat heavily. "That was a long walk home."

Lovino shrugged sullenly and changed the subject. "You honestly believe Antonio would torment Feli by asking him a few questions?"

Roma took a long gulp of wine. Lovino knew by now that Roma drank on two occasions: when he was very happy, and when he was nearing despair. Right now, he looked anything but happy. "You know how upset Feli gets."

Lovino scoffed. "Come on, Grandpa. Feli gets upset when one of the houseplants die."

Roma eyed him sharply. "You are too dismissive of your brother's emotions. At least he has the courage to show them." Lovino's cheeks turned cold, his jaw dropping before he could control it. Roma raised a tired hand and lowered his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, Lovino. I did not mean it like that."

Lovino hardened his eyes and his jaw. "There's no need to apologise, Grandpa, I'm quite aware you care for Feli more than me." It was a childish thing to say, but Lovino still felt brief satisfaction in spitting the words before marching towards the hall. He'd forgotten his swollen ankle, however, and promptly stumbled, only just managing to catch hold of a chair to stop himself falling. He clenched his hands and bit his cheek, furious.

It just made him angrier when Roma asked, softly, "Are you all right?"

No. I'm not all right. I'm only all right when Antonio smiles at me and I only realised that because I just came so close to losing it... "I'm fine. Nice of you to ask, finally."

Roma shook his head wearily and took a long sip of wine. "Lovino, your brother witnessed two men put to death today. Two men who fought, and died, for Italy."

Lovino felt a harsh stab of guilt. Then he realised Roma had not even denied his childish accusation, and he bristled once again. "Antonio also fights for Italy."

Roma's fixed stare was too perceptive. "You don't know Antonio."

Lovino narrowed his eyes, guilt turning back to anger. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"There is more to him than what you see. He's not..." Roma broke off, vaguely waving his wine glass as though searching for the right word. "...safe," he finished uncertainly.

"Safe?" Lovino snorted. "What the hell is these days? You thought him safe enough to help me home, since you didn't think I could do it alone. You thought him safe enough to leave with me when a German patrol passed by..."

Lovino immediately regretted the words. Roma froze, eyes widening in alarm before he placed his glass on the table and leant forward anxiously. "A patrol? Why did Antonio not tell me of this?"

Lovino had to stop himself from screaming in frustration. "I'm telling you!"

Roma looked horrified. Lovino suddenly remembered his pistol, and prayed Roma would not notice it missing. "Don't you see, this is what I mean - my God, Lovino, if they had found you with him..."

"Well, they didn't," Lovino shouted. "They didn't because we hid off the road, Antonio made sure that nothing happened to me, he's not unsafe, he would die before he let anything happen to me!"

Silence.

"Or," Lovino quickly fumbled to add, his gut twisting at the verbal slip, "or to any of us."

Roma let out a heavy breath and fixed Lovino with a piercing stare. "Do you love him?"

The question came from nowhere, and it hit Lovino like a bullet. The room swayed dangerously around him. All rage drained from his body, drained like the blood from his face, leaving him frozen white and utterly defenceless. For a moment he refused to accept what he'd heard. When he did, the urge to run fired through his nerves, but he simply could not make his legs move.

The silence lasted too long, Lovino's bones turned to ice; until, with all his strength, he forced himself to speak. "That's ridiculous." But the words sounded weak and far away.