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Ludwig suddenly jolts awake. He’s not sure by what. The blonde man sits up in the queen-size bed and glances at the digital clock next to him. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to be able to read the bright numbers. 1:51. Verdammt. It’s early. What woke him up? The room feels unusually empty, like someone is missing. Feliciano. Ludwig whips his head around next to him, but the brunette is not in bed. A muffled noise comes from somewhere in the apartment he shares with his boyfriend. His eyebrows furrow as he swings his long legs over the edge of the bed to stand up. The tall man walks out into the darkness that is the living room, and his eyes immediately catch on the light sliver from under a door. Ludwig hears the noise again. A muffled sob? Choke maybe? Whatever it is, he needs to figure out what made Feli get out of bed so early. He’s not sure what room the light is coming from, he hasn’t fully memorized the layout despite living here for the past 3 months. He assumes it's the bathroom, since that’s just about the only other door in the flat.
Feliciano jerks awake. The bed and blanket feel wet with sweat and are uncomfortably sticking to him. He’s not fully awake, but recognizes the pounding in his head. The dream; his face. He could still feel the breeze and the grass brushing against his leg. He could still feel the cold tears running down his cheeks. Probably because they were still there. Feliciano remembered the blonde hair, but not the face it belonged to. He couldn’t even remember his name anymore. It made him feel sick. Really sick.
Nausea struck him hard. He quietly climbed out of bed (to avoid waking up his boyfriend) and practically sprinted to the bathroom. Falling in front of the toilet, the brunette boy retched. More tears fell from his face into the bowl. He had dreams about his first love all the time, but they never made him sick. Just ruined his day. He had no idea what time it was, even. His brain was fuzzy and the only thought was of the blonde boy from his childhood. His heart—and the rest of his body— ached. He leaned against the wall, weak and exhausted. The brown-eyed man waited for the nausea to pass. This is just from the dream. He leaned over and vomited into the toilet bowl again, his body shaking with the force. He whimpered softly. More tears fell from his face. His body shivered despite his tank top being drenched in sweat. He regrets not wearing warmer clothes to bed.
Ludwig knocks softly on the bathroom door. When he hears a small sniffle, he takes it as permission and opens the door. The brown-eyed man was sitting on the floor, tears running down his red face.
“Liebling? Are you alright?” He questioned, his voice laced with concern. The blonde man kneeled down to Feliciano’s level. Ludwig reached his hand out and cupped the man’s red face.
“Verdammt! You are burning up.”
Feli looked down at the floor, fidgeting with his hands. He silently sobbed and it broke Ludwig’s heart. He knew he had one of those dreams. Although, to Ludwig, they seemed more like nightmares with how much they haunted him.
“Come here, engel.”
He used his sleeve to wipe everything off of Feliciano’s face— snot, sick, and tears— and pulled him into a tight hug. He patted his back gently. His brown eyes were glossed over and he looked barely conscious.
“It’s okay mein Gelibter, just breathe.”
Feli sobbed into his shoulder, his heat radiating like a furnace.
“You must be sick… do you think you can walk?”
The brunette looks up and nods. Ludwig helps him stand up and they start walking. He’s supporting almost the entire weight of the shorter man, which isn't a problem; he can easily carry double his weight. Feliciano suddenly pitches forward and makes no effort to break the fall.
“Verdammt,” Ludwig sighs as he catches the brown-eyed boy. He lifts him off the ground into his arms and carries him to bed.
“Let me check your temperature.” Ludwig mutters, the 3 hours of sleep he got starting to catch up. He brings a thermometer and bottles of medicine into the bedroom.
“Stay still, Feli.”
The thermometer beeps and Feliciano winces, presumably due to his splitting headache. Ludwig briefly comforts him before checking the thermometer. 39.7° C. His heart drops. He looks at the pale man, his tired glossy eyes and messy hair.
“Hans,” he suddenly mutters.
Ludwig furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
“Who’s Hans?”
Feliciano’s arm reaches out to touch Ludwig’s face.
“You look like him.”
Ludwig chuckles softly “Is that-“
“You’re gonna leave me.” Feliciano starts to tear up. Ludwig looked greatly dismayed.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m annoying. That’s why Hans left me. You don’t love me because I’m too much of a burden.” His voice cracked, both from tears and his already sore throat.
“Feli… you’re not a burden. And you know that. It must be your fever, you need fluids. Stay here.” Ludwig demanded. He tucked the crying brunette into the bed and walked into the kitchen to make him some food that would be gentle on his stomach.
Feliciano closed his eyes tightly as the door to the bedroom swung back open. It was Ludwig coming back, despite everything he knew telling him he wasn’t going to. The dim light from the kitchen felt like someone was stabbing an ice pick into his head. It made him dizzy, which made him nauseous. Although, he was determined to not puke again. The smell of the food alone made him quietly gag, and thankfully Ludwig didn’t notice.
The thought that Ludwig would never truly love him never left his mind. He finally remembered the name of the boy who had left him. Hans. He wasn't sure if anyone would love him the way Hans had loved him. He stared at Ludwig, picturing Hans’s face instead of his. It made him feel guilty. He had one bad break-up and now, nobody could ever love him again? But it wasn’t even a break-up, he had watched him die. The visual of watching Hans die replayed in his head, over and over like a carousel spinning around. He started to shake. His vision started to blur. Ludwig felt too close but too far. Go away. no. come closer. I need you. but you’ll just leave me. I can't let you get close to me.
He sat up, ripping the blanket out from under him, and grabbed Ludwig’s arm. The blonde man looked confused until he noticed Feliciano’s labored breathing and darting eyes.
“Are you okay?”
Ludwig’s voice felt far away. So far away. His ears were ringing, and that stupid imagery of Hans dying would stop playing in his head. He leaned over the edge of the bed and vomited on the floor. He started sobbing, apologizing profusely as the image cleared.
“Oh, mein Engel."
Ludwig brushes Feliciano’s slick-with-sweat hair out of his face and uses a paper towel to wipe sick from around his mouth. Feliciano lays back down, still crying and apologizing.
“Just schlafen, schatz, go to sleep.” He reassures the crying man. His face has a sheen of sweat, yet Ludwig still gives him a kiss on the forehead. It's almost 3 am now, and Feliciano seems to notice this. He closes his eyes and drifts off immediately.
Ludwig cleans up the vomit and puts the soup he made in the fridge. He sets up a chair next to Feli and watches his labored breathing. He’s worried, because he can’t even seem to keep water down. Maybe he should call Gilbert.
No. Not yet. He knows how much Feli hates the hospital. He won’t take him to the hospital unless it's absolutely necessary. As he’s falling asleep, Ludwig suddenly remembers Feliciano didn’t take any medicine.
“Feliciano. I love you.”
Who is that? Feliciano squints, the wind blowing in his eyes. The figure is too far away. It seems to be a young boy, probably his age. He looks down at the bright green grass. It’s spring. He’s wearing a dress, a lovely light green dress. Feliciano looks back to the figure. Blonde.. he’s blonde. And wearing all black. At first he thought it was Lovino, but upon further inspection, this boy looks nothing like his older brother. He takes a step closer, but the boy seems to always get farther away.
“Hey! Come over here!” He shouts in a thick accent. The boy shakes his head.
“What’s your name!” He yells. He doesn’t get a response.
Instead, he gets dragged to a different field. His dress is different. The boy is closer, he can recognize the face.
“Hans! Come play!” He hollers excitedly. Upon receiving zero response, Feliciano gives up on asking Hans to play. He must be too tired. Instead he just stares at Hans’s face. It looks wrong.
“You aren’t Hans. He didn’t look like that.”
And suddenly the mental video of his death is playing in his mind again. Felicano looks around. He was certain his heart was either beating 2x too fast or not at all. He started hyperventilating. Nausea hit him hard. When he woke up, he jolted up in bed, giving him sudden strength.
It was so hot. So, so hot. Before he knew it, tears started rolling down his crimson face. Everything was so uncomfortable. The blanket was sticking to him, wet with sweat. His stomach churned with nausea. He felt like he was on fire. His head felt like it was exploding. His throat was burning, along with most of the muscles in his body. His whole body ached to the bone. Everything hurt. So bad.
Ludwig noticed the man beside him had woken up. He was sitting up in bed, sniffling quietly and obviously hyperventilating. The blonde sat up next to him, rubbing his back comfortingly.
“Are you going to be sick again?”
Feliciano nodded. It was going to be a long night. Ludwig rushed to get up and grab a trash can. Fortunately for both of them, he got it to the brunette in time.
His body wracked as he vomited again. Ludwig rubbed his back in circles, trying his best to comfort him.
Feliciano was inconsolable. He was sobbing hysterically, blabbering about whatever. Ludwig only caught a few words. “Burden” “Disappointment” “Weak” “Useless” He assumed the brunette man was trying to describe himself negatively.
“Hey, slow it down a bit. Talking so fast is gonna make you sick again.”
Feliciano nodded and started talking slower.
“You’re just gonna abandon me— just like he did. You’re gonna leave me all alone because I'm not good enough. I’m just a weak crybaby who’s useless to you. Why do you even stay with me? I’m a burden, you have no reason to even be here taking care of me, I'm just a disappointment.”
Ludwig’s gaze softened. He has no idea that behind those brown eyes, he could think so negatively about himself.
“Hey, hey. Don’t say all that about yourself. Whether you’re a crybaby or not—which you’re not—ich liebe dich immer noch.”
Feliciano barely understood what the blonde had said, it felt like cotton was in his ears. He could tell the last sentence was German, but he could barely hear it, let alone translate it.
“You need to take medicine.” Ludwig mutters softly.
The Italian boy looked confused. He heard the word “medicine” and assumed Ludwig wanted to help him. But why? Why should a let-down like Feliciano deserve love and attention like he got from Ludwig?
“Open your mouth.”
A medicine syringe was placed at Feliciano’s lips, which he refused to open. He was terrified of the taste. Ludwig sighed and set down the syringe to pick up the thermometer. 40.1° C.
“Scheiße..” he whispered. That meant he either had to get the fever down now or he would have to go to the hospital.
“Feliciano, liebling?”
He tilted his head to answer, too weak for words.
“You need to take medicine.”
Feli’s head dropped and he sealed his mouth tightly, refusing to accept any medication. Ludwig got the soup from earlier out of the fridge.
A spoon was raised to Feliciano’s mouth. He opened his mouth widely to accept it, but his stomach protested against the spoonful of broth. The brunette boy’s head was spinning uncomfortably. Just one bite of the soup made him vomit. He couldn’t keep anything down, not even water. And Ludwig tried water.
“Please don’t leave me alone Ludwig…” Feli’s voice cracked and it broke Ludwig’s heart
“Mein Gelibter. I won’t leave.”
Tears were falling before the brunette knew it and they slid down his hot cheek.
“You need to take medicine, though.” Ludwig offered. Feliciano shook his head, causing another dizzy spell. The blonde rummaged through the medication anyways. He found some liquid Tylenol that was grape flavored. Holding the bottle up and offering it to him, more tears fell from Feliciano’s eyes. He hated anything to do with sickness, he felt so vulnerable. Not that he wasn’t already vulnerable, he just hated the fact that he could be left at any time and there’s absolutely nothing he could do about it except to cry for them to come back. He also hated taking medication, especially if he was already vomiting. He was a pretty picky eater, and despised the taste and texture of medicine. He couldn’t even take pills because they made him gag. Feli already didn’t like throwing up, no need to make it harder for him.
Ludwig knew about Feli’s distaste in medicine, but also his dislike of the hospital.
“Feli. It’s either the medicine or the hospital.” His voice was firm as he coaxed him to take the medicine. Upon hearing the word hospital, Feliciano reluctantly agreed to take the medicine.
The medicine was bitter in his mouth, and it tasted nothing like grapes. Feliciano remembered the beautiful tasting grapes of his home. The gorgeous grape vines of Venice. There were no grapes that could ever compare, especially this artificial tylenol. He rinsed his mouth out with the water next to him. He closed his eyes for just a minute and drifted off, but was awoken just a few minutes later to a beep. The loud noise caused a bolt of pain through his head.
“Entschuldigung, Liebling. Your fever is still high, so you need to drink more water.”
Feliciano nodded unenthusiastically and grabbed the water next to him. He took a large swig, but nausea hit him fast. He wondered how many times he had thrown up, but not been conscious enough to remember. Feli was determined to not throw up again. For real this time. He swallowed the spit gathering in his mouth and took deep breaths. He wasn’t going to throw up again.
“Ludwig, mi dispiace di essere così inutile. Capisco se non vuoi tenermi. Per favore vattene già, non voglio che faccia troppo male quando te ne vai come ha fatto Hans.”
Ludwig tilted his head. He only caught “Ludwig” and “Hans” and assumed it was something about how they looked so similar.
“Non riesco a respirare. Per favore non amarmi troppo”
Ludwig smiled softly and gave him the cup of water. Feli took small sips and set the cup back down.
“Sono un tale peso” he muttered to himself as he laid down.
“Geh schlafen.” Ludwig gently demanded. Feliciano weakly nodded and closed his eyes, falling asleep immediately. The blonde sat next to Feliciano laying in bed. The clock read 5:29. He had to be up for work in half an hour. Running his hair through his hands, he made the executive decision to go into work anyways despite Feliciano’s condition. He messed with the thermometer in the living room, trying to figure how to make it not beep. Once he got it, he checked Feli’s temperature again. 39.6°. Phew, it was starting to come down. He wiped the sweat off of the smaller man’s face with a damp washcloth. Feli gave a whimper of discomfort when the threads got caught on his cracked lips. Ludwig didn’t realize he was awake.
“I’m sorry, Engel. Go back to sleep.” The German whispers. He doesn’t notice the tears welling in his boyfriend’s eyes until they’re sliding down his flushed cheeks.
“Shh.. Liebling..” Ludwig calmly soothes the ill man until he’s asleep on the taller man’s shoulder. Running his hand through Feliciano’s slick hair, he thinks maybe he shouldn’t come into work. He calls his boss and explains the situation, excusing his absence. When he hangs up, he notices the glazed-over hazel eyes open next to him. He must have woken him up.
He’s not quite awake yet–he knows that. But he’s definitely not asleep. The only thing he notices is how bad his throat hurts, and how dry his mouth is. He wants to scream and beg for water, but no words come out when he parts his lips. When he cracks open his eyes, the bedside lamp blinds him. His head is laying on a shoulder. Lovino’s? His big brother Lovi usually took care of him when he was sick, but his brother wasn’t this tall, and Lovi hadn’t let him lay on him like this since they were little. Maybe it was Nonno? Nonno wasn’t so stiff. He turned his head to look at the face of who he was laying on and his breath hitched. Hans. But it wasn’t Hans, it can’t be. Hans… Hans was dead. Feli knew this. But who else had blonde hair and blue eyes brighter than the sky? Then it clicked.
“Ludwig..” He cried out. A gentle hand cupped his hot cheek.
“I’m here, engel. I’m here. Do you need water?” Feliciano nods despite his dizziness and excruciating headache that was just making itself apparent to him. Watching Ludwig leave made him want to cry. What if Ludwig never came back for him? Maybe that’d be better, for both of them. Ludwig wouldn’t be stuck dating a weak crybaby burden, and Feliciano wouldn’t have to go through the pain of losing someone so close to him. These thoughts that make tears well in his eyes are interrupted by the door creaking open. Ludwig comes back in with a glass of ice water. The glass is pressed to his cracked lips and he gladly opens his mouth and allows the water to slide down his raw throat. He greedily empties the glass, stopping only to breathe. Ludwig’s hand cups Feliciano’s flushed cheek and caresses it with his thumb.
“I love you.” He looked like he tried really hard to say it in English instead of German. Feli didn’t understand why he would ever put this much effort into someone like him.
“Don’t say that. Please. Please don’t say you love me.” His voice cracked even though he tried to sound nonchalant. The blonde boy looked at him, his eyebrows furrowed, not with what Feliciano expected–anger–but with concern. Confusion.
“What do you mean?” His voice had dropped a bit.
“You can’t love me… how could you ever love me? I’m-” Tears interrupt his sentence, along with a hiccup. “I’m completely useless… I’m just a weak burden. How could you ever love me?”
He shook his head, refusing to believe his declaration. He brought his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them.
Ludwig couldn’t believe it. Feliciano, happy-go-lucky Feliciano, ball of sunshine Feliciano, his ray of light Feliciano, felt so negatively about himself. He couldn’t believe it. Surely it was the illness plaguing his thoughts.
“Feli… you’re none of those things. Don’t say stuff like that.”
“You’re just saying that because you pity me. You pity me because I’m weak and crying in front of you and I’m tired of being pitied.” He suddenly snapped. “I’m so tired of being pitied.” His body wracked with sobs.
Ludwig’s heart dropped further with every word. The Italian man sobbing in front of him was his everything. His whole world. How could he say such things? How did he hide that he felt like this for so long? How long had he felt like this? All he could do was place a hand on the brown-haired boy’s shoulder.
“Feliciano. I love you. I love you so much. Don’t say that about yourself. You’re not a burden, you are my everything. I would take care of you everyday until you died if you needed it.”
His brown eyes looked unconvinced. Ludwig wasn’t sure if he could ever convince him. Feli’s eyes–less glossy–suddenly closed and his breathing slowed. The blonde man watched his occasional twitches as he slept, and could only pray he wouldn’t have another nightmare. Ludwig hated seeing Feli when he awoke from a nightmare. But with how often he had them, he had to deal with the aftermath at least twice a week.
Feliciano’s fever broke after two days. He was still undoubtedly ill, but could at least get out of bed and function more than he had in 3 days. Ludwig took him to visit Hans’s grave as soon as he was well enough. Feliciano managed to talk about his self-worth issues with Ludwig when his mind wasn’t clouded by fever. It was difficult. Really difficult. He started attending therapy. Ludwig accompanied him sometimes, but Feli was assured he’d never be left alone. His nightmares never did get better. Watching someone you love die isn’t something you ever recover from, no matter how much you heal. Nevertheless, he was less afraid of Ludwig abandoning him.