He's Not The German You're Looking For [Gilbert Beilschmidt]

[Feliciano Vargas]

Two months since Feliciano's escaped the Underground, and things are finally starting to calm down a little. By calm down, of course, he means there are fewer swarms of cops flooding the streets. The tension in the populace was only growing more pronounced, and the police that are out are increasingly irritable. It was difficult to wander at first, once Feliciano realized that his face had been plastered all over television as the "ring leader" of the breakout, but now? So long as he's careful, he can go out and run errands--or just explore--without worry. (Thank Dio for the large, thick layers needed to stay warm in Russian winters) He can slowly immerse himself in the world he'd been denied, when he'd failed to mingle in on his own.With Alfred's help, he could at least have a semblance of the life he'd dreamed of.

Every day, he's kept his ears to the ground, the radio, the television--every single way the brunette can stay updated on the situation in Archadia. Many of the mutants he'd broken free had been taken in. That fact hurt his heart, but there was little he could do for them now. However, Lovino and Ludwig had yet to be caught. They, along with the rest who had escaped custody so far had done very well at keeping themselves hidden. It's been weeks without any true headway in the "prison break case", to Feliciano's immense pleasure.

These combinations of facts led to Feliciano feeling comfortable enough to try locating Ludwig. He wasn't worried about Lovi. There aren't many people more paranoid than his brother, after all. Ludwig was smart as well, but Ludwig tended to let his worries get the best of him. At the very least, Alfred's home seemed like a safe place should the blonde run into any trouble, and he hadn't seen the other in so long...

Making sure to leave a note for Alfred on the refrigerator (along with instructions on how to re-heat the lasagna in the fridge should the American arrive a little earlier than usual) about his whereabouts, Feliciano was on his merry way.

This endeavor was a bit more difficult than he'd anticipated, to be honest. He might be able to recognize Ludwig's scent, but in a place as bustling and busy as Archadia, locating that one individual smell amid thousands of others certainly isn't the easiest endeavor. He couldn't go anywhere near the entrances to the underground to try getting a stronger scent, and nothing in Alfred's apartment had a strong enough source to help him narrow down his search. Feliciano didn't have a clue where Ludwig would go, either--he hadn't gone to Alfred, that much was obvious. He wouldn't go somewhere with a lot of people to start with, but the park was filled with so many smells, the Italian had had to sit down before he passed out. With no clues and no intuitions in mind, he was forced to simply wander the city until something struck him, or he got lucky.

He certainly wasn't expecting to practically run into someone who smelled like Ludwig just outside a pet store. Focusing so much on his olfactory glands, he'd all but muted everything else. And while walking, passing over scents that were vaguely familiar but not noteworthy, he'd caught onto something that smelled so much like his old friend, Feliciano momentarily lost his cool. He'd hurried after the source, too caught up in the familiar to recognize the missing or otherwise unfamiliar components making up the scent he was scurrying towards. Nor had he anticipated just how close he was already--five minutes at the most and he literally bumped into the source with enough force to knock of Feliciano's hat entirely. The pain of a bony shoulder to the jaw slammed the mutant back into his body properly. However, he was too enraptured in the idea that he'd finally found his friend that he ignored that pain, latching onto the other's arm. "L-Luddi, I've been looking everywhere for you--"

The person he was looking up at was most definitely not his friend, Ludwig.

Gilbert Beilschmidt

[Gilbert Beilschmidt]

We are the Lions...
Free of the Coliseum...

There wasn’t much Gilbert missed about New York. He’d never been the type to put down roots anywhere and it wasn’t like the city was a tropical getaway. True it was warmer than his current city, but that wasn’t saying much. The main thing he missed? His pets. His boss had graciously agreed to take in his birds and his dog and he sent Gil plenty of pictures and updates. Gilbert knew they were happy and healthy but still… he missed coming home to slobbery dog kisses. He missed waking up to the delicate choir supplied by his canaries. He missed having something in his life that he didn’t have to act for. He stared at the pet store, almost longingly. Maybe he’d get something special for them. He always love spoiling his babies… luckily Williams had been a good sport about the whole thing.

He had made up his mind but hadn’t yet moved when something, or rather someone collided with him. He felt the offender tumbling back and his hand reached out to grab his shoulder almost out of instinct. “Whoa there—“ But suddenly the other’s hands wrapped around his free arm in way far too familiar for a stranger to greet another stranger..

"L-Luddi, I've been looking everywhere for you--"

Startled, Gil fixed wide garnet eyes on the stranger. The name hit him like a mallet to the head. Luddi? Could he possibly mean—Gil swallowed heavily, a look of anguish crossing his face. Two months with no word from West. Not a word. He’d checked, double checked, and triple checked with Al, but the American swore up and down that he hadn’t heard a word regarding him. He supposed no news was good news. West’s name was still on the list of missing mutants, so they hadn’t caught him. Which meant that he was still on the run… or… No! Gill shook his head, refusing to consider such a thought. West had always been resourceful… the fact that Gil hadn’t heard anything was good news. And deep down, he knew that West couldn’t go to him. It was too risky. Hell, Gil’d already been dragged in for questioning when the news of a mass breakout had occurred. They were watching him and he knew it, still…

His arms reached out and clamped down on the brunette’s shoulder before he could escape. “Who were you looking for?” He asked softly. “Why did you think I was Luddi?” He wanted to be more forceful, but looking at the petite little brunette he had captured. He was so… fragile and terrified, looking so much like one of Gil’s canaries that the albino couldn’t but soften. “Please… just tell me… is ‘Luddi’ short for Ludwig by any chance? Please. He’s my little brother.” Maybe this frightened little bird had some knowledge of West. He had to know, the suspense had been killing him. He’d barely slept since news of the escape. And now? Now he had a real, tangible lead. As bad as he felt about strong-arming the man in front of him, he needed answers.

He just hoped there were some to be given.

word count: 503
tags: Feliciano Vargas
notes: Better late than never I suppose

by worldie for kat

[Feliciano Vargas]

At first, Feliciano could only stare with growing horror at the pale blonde in front of him. In fact, he was too startled to even release his grip upon the other's arm. Thankfully, he'd been too enamored to use his friend's full name, but in the hands of an over-informed, suspicious stranger, he could have very well signed his and Ludwig's fates. However, before he could descend into a proper panic, pull away, and flee for the safety of Alfred's home, amber eyes caught sight of the older man's face. Anguish couldn't quite describe it, though he could see pain there. That expression alone kept the brunette rooted in place, attempting to scrutinize the source of that unexpected appearance. It certainly wasn't physical pain, but it was something--

Feliciano's thoughts were cut off when his grip was shrugged off the other's arm. Before the mutant could react, come to his senses and run like common sense told him to, warm hands curled tightly around both his shoulders, holding him in place. He snapped to attention, clearly alarmed by the touch. The pale blonde (was he an albino, or could this be..? Why did it that sound so familiar..?) stared down at him, traces of that earlier pain still lingering in red eyes, but determination hardened the planes of his face. Feliciano would have recognized the albino if he were one of the mutants he had liberated, but a human with such dark eyes... Not to mention the scent of him; at this distance, it's all-encompassing. Musk and earth, highlighted by touches of paper and wood and metal, all lurking beneath the warmth of his cologne; a rich smell of sandalwood. Replace the cologne with strong traces of smoke and sulfur, of burning things, and this scent would be Ludwig's. The Italian stared up at the other, swallowing thickly. How could a complete stranger smell so much like his best friend? At this distance, of course it's easy to smell the differences, but...

"Who were you looking for?" Feliciano was asked, the other's voice quietly hoarse. (He was surprised the other wasn't shouting, going by the almost painful grip on his upper arms) It was hard to tell if the tone was natural, or not. "Why did you think I was 'Luddi'?" However, the pale man barely paused, let alone gave Feliciano time to think. As if he would just tell a random stranger what was going on, anyway. (Even if he did smell incredibly familiar to Ludwig... Something niggled insistently at the back of his mind) "Please...Just tell me... is 'Luddi' short for 'Ludwig', by any chance?"

The surprise must have been evident on his face, because the albino's grip tightened to painful levels. There was no question, the stranger was upset; desperation colored his plea. "Please. He's my little brother."

All of the flustered denials and half-baked excuses Feliciano had come up with died upon his tongue, amber eyes as wide as saucers. "Little...brother?" he repeated breathlessly, confusion evident in his words. He knew Ludwig had an elder sibling, a rambunctious brother name Gilbert; the only member of his family openly loving and affectionate. His friend had told him about Gilbert, a boy who loved to play and shout and pull pranks, who had a bad relationship with their parents because of...his looks? Before Ludwig had been caught and shipped off to Russia, Gilbert had been Ludwig's only friend. But the older Beilschmidt was supposed to be in Germany, right..? Why would he be here, of all times? Had news of his escape honestly traveled so far? Or was this man here for another purpose? Was he lying? Or was he like... Is this truly Gilbert Beilschmidt, and was he like Alfred?

Feliciano visibly winced at the memory of his benefactor and hero (and from the pain blooming across bony shoulders. He was going to bruise for sure...). Oh, Alfred was going to be so mad when he found out about this. However, he didn't have to say where he was staying. Nor dd he have any knowledge to share about Ludwig, anyway. If he truly was falling into a trap--which he doubted, not detecting a lie in the other's words or body language (not that that matters, when Gilbert hadn't said much in the first place)--the mutant would be the only one to face the consequences of his actions. He sucked in a deep breath, that (too-familiar-but-not-the-same) scent soothing his frazzled nerves; reminding him why he was here.

A warm smile spread across Feliciano's face, and he pushed the other's grip from his shoulder. When he was free to move, he ducked under the stranger's hands in order to wrap his arms around the blonde's middle. Were he coincidentally shielding his face from view of any passerby with that hug; only a happy "accident". "Aw, mi dispiace, I didn't realize he was sending you to meet me!" the mutant chirped, pulling away after a moment to quickly scoop up his hat and tug it upon his head. "Come on, it's been so long since I've seen either of you~ We have so much to catch up on!" Face sufficiently hidden in the shadows of his old cap, Feliciano curled his fingers into the albino's sleeve, tugging slightly. He could only hope his hunch is correct, his senses were not failing him, and that his memory weren't lying; that the other followed along. They had already attracted too much attention, even if it was only a few curious (and suspicious) glances from other pedestrians. There had to be somewhere secluded enough to not be eavesdropped upon; he wouldn't dare leave into full solitude, just in case he was wrong.

Oh, Alfred was going to kill him.

[Gilbert Beilschmidt]

We are the Lions...
Free of the Coliseum...

Gil’s heart ached for the fragile little figure before him. It was clear the boy had seen too little kindness in his short life. And Gil wanted to spirit him away from the cold, to fill his belly with food and beer to warm his blood and raise his spirits. But he couldn’t forget that this little brunette was the first real lead to his brother that Gil had found since the break out. And no matter how badly he wanted to care for this boy in front of him, no one could distract him from his initial quest to find his brother.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when he confided his relationship with West to this stranger. The fear and uncertainty seemed like a reasonable reaction, but when the man suddenly pulled him into a hung, Gil’s eyes widened in surprise. That was not a reaction he had considered. Of course it didn’t take him long to figure out what the little Italian was doing. So the kid was smarter than he expected, certainly smarter than Gil in this instance. Good. He smiled and let the boy lead him away from the crowded street, and towards some privacy. They weaved through the maze of back alleys and side streets, not saying a word. Gil watched the boy moving in front of him.

He was a mutant, no doubt, Gil vaguely remembered his face peering up at him from the daily paper as Gil downed his coffee and prepared for the day. If he’d managed to evade capture this long, he was either very powerful or very crafty and either way Gil knew better than to force his hand. It was clear that the Italian was not going to speak until he was somewhere he deemed safe and even though it was killing Gil, he stayed silent.

The odds of the boy knowing where West was hiding out was pretty slim, given his initial reaction to Gil. But still. It was clear this boy was close to West. A friend. Something about the thought caused a warmth to spread through Gil’s chest. West had a friend, may not have had to spend every moment of his time in captivity alone. There was someone there who had clearly cared for Gil’s little brother, who was risking quite a lot to search for him. And that alone soothed a long festering wound that had simmered in Gil ever since he’d watched his brother being spirited away from everything he’d ever known.

“Hey, kid? I just wanted to thank you.” He swallowed heavily, willing any tears threatening to overwhelm his vision to fade away. “You’re friends with my brother, right? You cared about him. I can’t… I can’t begin to explain what that means to me. So… yeah. Thanks. I owe you.”

word count: 470
tags: Feliciano Vargas
notes: I'm sorry it's so short!

by worldie for kat

[Feliciano Vargas]

Thankfully, the pale stranger figured out what Feliciano was doing, and while he didn't respond, necessarily, he didn't fight Feliciano's hug or the grip on his sleeve. Hell, he didn't even try to stop Feliciano from leading him away from the pet store and into the alleys the mutant had learned to navigate by heart. That quiet acceptance of the situation did wonders to calm Feliciano down, even though he could still feel budding anxiety in the back of his mind. He couldn't exactly keep this surprise meeting a secret from Alfred, his benefactor and increasingly close friend (at least on his end, Alfred gets a bit anxious around the brunette sometimes), after all. Alfred hated it when Feliciano went out on his own, and while Feliciano (almost) always left a note for the American, he always made sure to tell the blonde anything that happened while he was out. Not just to appease Alfred's irritation, but because any information either of them could find on this situation that was free of the propaganda the government was important. He might not have found Ludwig, yet, but he certainly knew the movements of the police better than most in the city. Plus the gossip on the streets. So if Ludwig's brother had come to Russia in search of his brother, this was something Alfred desperately needed to know. Feliciano wasn't sure if the albino was Freedom Fighter material (since he didn't know the qualifications for joining; Alfred was still adamant that Feliciano stay holed up in the apartment always and forever and not do anything) but he could be great potential. Or he could be a great hindrance, butting into whatever plans Alfred has for Ludwig and Feliciano both once they (he, because Feliciano knows he's better equipped to find the wayward mutant than Alfred, despite Alfred's information network, and Feliciano will keep looking until he dies, if we're going to be honest) manage to find the blonde.

"Hey, kid?"

They hadn't quite reached Feliciano's destination when the man--Gilbert, he has to remind himself even if he's not one hundred percent (only about eighty five, honestly) sold--spoke up. His voice was hoarse once again, though again Feliciano wasn't sure if it's naturally like that or if the other's emotions were choking him up. Feliciano caught the new tang of salt in the other's scent about a block back, even if it hadn't really registered until now. "I just wanted to thank you."

The words were unexpected, enough so that Feliciano stumbled a step or two before slowing his steps, head turning to stare at the German in obvious confusion. Before he could gather up the words to ask why on earth this veritable stranger would want to thank him, Gilbert continued. "You're friends with my brother, right? You cared about him. I can't...I can't begin to explain what that means to me."

Silence stretched between the two of them for a moment, heavy and a bit awkward on Feliciano's end. The gratitude is much more visible in red eyes than Feliciano was expecting, and the mutant couldn't help but bite his lip. He couldn't quite think of anything to say, so he simply tightened his grip on Gilbert's sleeve and continued walking. Gilbert didn't seem to need a reply just yet, thankfully, and tacked on an ending, "So...yeah. Thanks. I owe you," to the end of that uncomfortably emotion-heavy statement.

Those words lingered thoughtfully in Feliciano's mind long after they were said, despite the fact that he couldn't think of a decent reply to them. Gilbert was probably put out by the lack of an answer, but honestly, why would this man think he owed Feliciano for caring about someone as kind and generous and likeable as Ludwig? It was only his extensive mental map of the area kept him from leading himself and his tag-a-long astray of their destination. Eventually, they stepped out of a narrow alley and into an almost obscenely large empty square. There was a shop to their left and a large glass-paneled building to their right--Feliciano could only guess of its purposes, but he assumed it was an office building of some kind, and nothing but open concrete and fenced-in patches of grass and flowers and large trees. They were near the edge of the shopping district and the more business-oriented side of town, in what was not quite a park despite the large array of trees because everything was still cobblestones and concrete and storefronts on either side of the wide area.

Feliciano knew the area was relatively empty this time of day, and large enough that they could sit at any one of the benches away from the main walkway and be unheard by the populace unless they raised a ruckus of some kind. He felt safe enough here to talk. He carefully released Gilbert's sleeve, glancing back at the man before walking over to a slab of concrete serving as a bench. "Are you really his brother, ve?" he asked without hesitation, amber eyes focused solely on the German before him. "You look a lot like him--bone structure's very similar, even if the coloration's not, and your accent is just like his when he was little, and you smell like him, too. You haven't really lied to me, but...I just need to hear it, ve." Despite his demand, the brunette looks almost apologetic, tilting his head to one side as he watched the other. "So tell me your name, and why you're here. Please?"

God, he hoped this was actually Gilbert.

---

Gilbert Beilschmidt

[Gilbert Beilschmidt]

We are the Lions...
Free of the Coliseum...

The boy didn’t really acknowledge Gil’s thanks, not that he really expected any great response. The kid didn’t know what it meant to him, how much sleep Gil’d lost wondering how his little brother was spending the night. It killed him to think of his sweet little brother, spending all those years, locked up and alone. And if the brunette in front of him was as sweet as he appeared… well at least West had someone in his life who hadn’t let him down.

Gil was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed that they’d arrived at their destination until his guide had stopped. It was a little nook, unfamiliar to the German. Not too surprising, given how little time he’d spent just exploring Archadia. The city was full of back alleys and secret corners, there really was no shortage of hiding places. But still, Gil had to admit that his new friend had picked out a good spot for a private conversation. He was looking around thoughtfully, when he heard the boy speak up again. (And god, did that boy have a beautiful voice, each word had a unique melody to it.) He listened to the boy, impressed that the brunette picked up on the similarities between himself and his little brother—few ever did. He was certainly observant and—wait what about smell? Gil frowned slightly, wondering if it had something to do with his mutation, but decided now wasn’t the time to ask. He had to gain the boy’s trust, and that meant answering his questions as best as he could. The first part was easy.

“Yeah, I guess we never really got introduced, did we?” He smiled and leaned back against the wall, fishing out his business cards and wallet. “My name’s Gilbert Beilschmidt. Officially, I’m here as a representative of KNP Manufacturing, looking to set up an office that can utilize mutants as a source of cheap labor.” He held out both his ID and a business card for the boy to inspect, just to back up his claims. He smiled faintly and pulled out another picture from his wallet to hand to Feli. “Unofficially… I’m here to save my brother.” He didn’t have to look at the picture, he’d seen it so often that it was forever ingrained in his mind. It was a shot of Gil and his brother, Gil couldn’t have been more than 5 at the time and Ludwig was still a baby. They were sitting on the floor, with Lud nearly overwhelming Gil’s thin arms. Gil was pale, skinnier than most his age and clearly recovering from some bout of illness, but his smile was brimming with pride as he held up his baby brother up for the world to see. It wasn’t hard to see the love in his garnet-colored eyes.

“West is the only thing that matters to me. And if I could, I’d buy his freedom and get him as far away as I could. But… that kid… he hasn’t changed at all. He won’t go so long as the others are still stuck in this hell. So I’m trying to find a way to make their lives a bit less miserable while we figure out a more permanent solution.”

He was taking a big gamble, laying everything out on the table. But something told him this kid could be trusted. After a pause he smiled warmly at the boy.

“So now you know about me. Do you think I could learn something about you? I’d settle for a name… What should I call you?”

word count: 601
tags: Feliciano Vargas
notes: maybe I can finally stop calling Feli "the boy"

by worldie for kat

[Feliciano Vargas]

Feliciano was glad the blonde granted him his full attention; was serious about answering his questions. Once the mutant brought up the similarities between Gilbert and his brother, though, the pleased glimmer in garnet eyes faded into confusion. Feliciano smothered a smile. Not many people liked being told what they smelled like, or even that they smelled like anything but their perfume of choice. It was amusing to watch Gilbert huff over something so silly.

He got over his discomfort easily enough, though he hadn't joined Feliciano on the stone bench. Rather, he shifted to lean against a nearby pillar. "Yeah, I guess we never really got introduced, did we?" Gilbert looked amused as he pulled a small, white card and his wallet from his pocket. Feliciano kept his eyes on the blonde's hands, just in case. The other's words failed to ease the lingering tension in Feliciano's frame; actually awoke anger in him, instead. "My name's Gilbert Beilschmidt. Officially, I'm here as a representative of KNP Manufacturing, looking to set up an office that can utilize mutants as a source of cheap labor."

Amber eyes darted up to Gilbert's, a fierce glare on his face. Utilize mutants for cheap labor? He didn't bother looking at the proffered ID or that white card, let alone take them. Feliciano didn't know what KNP Manufacturing was, but any business looking to use mutants solely for their labor, no better than the slavery they were already subjected to, was no friend of his. He could hear the honesty in Gilbert's words. It only made him angrier. Was that really the main reason why Gilbert was here? To use mutants, just like everyone else? Had Feliciano given himself up for some...some jerk who planned to find Ludwig just to use him like some tool to further his own career? For profit? Gilbert was so sincere before. What was the truth? Which were lies? Should he even bother? Feliciano got ready to stand, mentally berating himself for wasting his time and risking his safety for this stupidity, when Gilbert spoke up again; softer this time. "Unofficially... I'm here to save my brother."

Feliciano froze halfway to his feet. A photo was being held out to him. He hesitated a moment before taking it in a careful grip. When Feliciano realized just what he was looking at... He collapsed onto the bench, completely floored. The colors were faded, paper worn and creased from frequent handling, but there was Gilbert; small and frail but brimming with so much love the photograph radiated its warmth. He was so small and gangly! His limbs were disproportionately long, and his head too big for his small figure. The energy of this scrawny little Gilbert reminded Feliciano of a puppy. He could feel a wide smile growing the longer he stared, but he couldn't help it. "You used to be so little," Feliciano murmured, ghosting a finger across photo-Gilbert's face. He couldn't help but laugh. "I bet you were so clumsy, too. Like a puppy! Look how big your feet are! And your eyes... Definitely as cute as a puppy, ve..." He trailed off, a lump growing in his throat. Gilbert the child wore his heart on his sleeve. Feliciano didn't doubt the little boy in the picture loved his brother, cradled in his arms like a treasure, more than everything else in the world.

If Gilbert was small, Ludwig was tiny. Feliciano almost couldn't fathom how such a small, delicate-looking infant like this grew up into his Ludwig, tall and strong and so sweet and kind. He remembered the scared eleven-year-old Ludwig used to be, though; the crying child he first met all those years ago. It was easier to link the infant and the adult with that middle stage in memory. But that little tuft of blonde hair, teeny tiny little fingers balled up into teeny tiny little fists, sleepy blue eyes just such a brilliant shade of blue, probably the same then as they are now; Feliciano couldn't quite explain the rush of...love and affection flowing in his chest at the sight. Ludwig was just so small, ready to break at a rough touch, but Gilbert held him so carefully, supporting him properly. Ludwig was safe in Gilbert's care. This kind of love didn't just vanish. Feliciano had caught a glimpse of its depths in the adult this little albino boy had grown up to be, in the way Gilbert spoke, in the phantom pain earlier echoed in deep red eyes; the pain of not knowing whether his brother was safe; the thankfulness that his brother had a friend in Feliciano. Feliciano understood why Gilbert had said "thank you", why he had been so close to tears when he said so.

Feliciano couldn't help but wish someone cared for him even a fraction of the dedication and pride Gilbert held in his heart for Ludwig. Wished he had a brother who would look for him, care for him despite the odds placed between them. His parents might have cared, but the were gone, long gone now. Either in prison or worse, maybe even dead; Feliciano would never know. He couldn't even remember their names. Compared to Gilbert, Feliciano was a terrible friend, brother, son. Compared to Gilbert's boundless love, Feliciano felt inadequate. How had Ludwig settled for Feliciano's weak, childish affections when he had such a wonderful friend, caretaker, and brother in Gilbert Beilschmidt? Were he in Ludwig's shoes, Feliciano would've laughed himself away and out of Ludwig's life entirely.

First one, then two tears fell onto the photograph with a gentle splatter. Despite the mixed feelings in his chest, Feliciano laughed wetly and gently brushed them away before the water could soak into the paper. That seemed to break the spell the photo had put him under, for only then did Feliciano realize that Gilbert was speaking still. "So now you know about me. Do you think I could learn something about you?" The German sounded both amused and earnest in his request. Feliciano tried to brush the tears from his eyes before Gilbert noticed them. "I'd settle for a name... What should I call you?"

With another tear-filled chuckle, Feliciano delicately returned the photograph to its rightful owner. Seeing it had soothed any doubts he may have had about Gilbert. And such honesty deserved nothing but the truth in turn. "That... that was such a cute photograph, ve," Feliciano admitted, wearing a smile filled with such love and fondness it hurt his cheeks. "I've never seen anything like it before." It's too bad he couldn't reciprocate in kind; his parents hadn't any photos of him before he'd been taken away, and the government only had pictures taken for official documentation. Still, it would've been nice to have a physical memory of himself and Ludwig's time together at Weeds to share...

Once he managed to will away the last few tears threatening to fall, Feliciano aimed his smile at Gilbert. "I... Luddi is my best friend in the entire world, Gilbert. The most important person to me. I'm trying to find him so I can take him somewhere safe. ...just like you." Feliciano sighed, smile dimming. "I thought I found him when I ran into you, because you smell so similar to him, but..." He shook his head, laughing weakly. "None of that is my name, is it?

"My name is Feliciano Vargas. Feel free to call me Feli. Everyone does, ve. I'm the one who caused the Underground break-out."

---

Gilbert Beilschmidt

[Gilbert Beilschmidt]

We are the Lions...
Free of the Coliseum...

Feliciano… somehow it made sense that some with such a melody in his voice and actions would have such a harmonious name. It just rolled off the tongue, soft and warm, just like its namesake. Gilbert had watched Feliciano, saw the anger and hatred fill his eyes at the mention of the factory. He didn’t blame him. On the outside at least, what he was doing seemed exploitive, despicable, and inhuman, to the mutants. He knew that going in—he would likely be loathed by the very people he was sacrificing everything to help. It was okay, Gil was used to being despised.

What he was not used to was the shift in emotions that he saw in Feliciano after he took the photograph. Saw the way his eyes widened and gentled as he took in the figures frozen on that picture. He had actually caught the moment when the Italian realized the truth behind Gil’s words. He was unused to the fondness in Feliciano’s voice especially when used in regards to his younger self. He had not been a cute child, and most of his memories of that time was filled with voices of fear and thinly veiled disdain. To have heard such… warmth… used to describe him… it was a wholly novel feeling and it brought a faint blush to his cheeks.

He was doubly flustered seeing the tears fill those amber eyes. What was going on behind them that fueled such emotion? Not for the first time, Gil wanted to hug the little mutant before him, to tell him that it was going to be okay. That he was going to find a way to help West and him and every other mutant he could. He finally crossed over to the bench and gingerly sat down next to the brunette, careful not to startle him. And it was then that he heard the admission of how the boy felt towards his little brother and his plan for West… well he couldn’t help but laugh, his head arching back to the sky.

“You and I really think alike when it comes to West… it’s a shame we can’t get him to go along with it.” He paused, expression stilling as Feliciano let out the last bombshell.

Him? He was the one who orchestrated the breakout? It was him? The fragile looking boy sitting beside him overpowered a guard and managed to stage the largest breakout in Archadian history. The blood drained from Gil’s face at the thought of Feliciano being at the head of something like this… if he was ever caught. Gil’s hand slipped over Feli’s hand protectively as he thought about what fate the boy would face should he ever be caught. Finally, he managed to collect himself and he pulled his hand away from Feli’s with a sheepish smile.

“You really are full of surprises, Feli,” he managed, holding his hand out for the picture. “But you shouldn’t be out in this cold… especially if what you said is true, you should be somewhere safe. People are probably looking for you.”

And he prayed that they would never find the little mutant at his side. He was clearly someone precious to West and a kind person besides. If something were to happen... Gil had to help keep him safe, not only for his brother’s sake, but his own.

word count: 563
tags: Feliciano Vargas
notes: 

by worldie for kat

[Feliciano Vargas]

Feliciano happily shifted over, just to make sure that Gilbert had plenty of room to sit on the bench next to him. With that little piece of Gilbert's past in his mind now, he was more than content to trust the albino with whatever information he might possibly want to know. Considering how long it must've been since he'd last seen, let alone spoken to Ludwig, Gilbert probably wanted to know what Ludwig's childhood was like. Feliciano may not be able to fill in every blank, and there were things only Ludwig had the right to share, he would do his best to tell Gilbert about the good times (few as they may seem to be).

However, when Gilbert outright laughed at his words, Feliciano was understandably confused. What was there about his feelings for Ludwig worth laughing at? ...Was he laughing because Feliciano claimed that Ludwig was the most important thing in his world because, compared to Gilbert, Feliciano's world was so small so of course Ludwig had to be the most important thing? Was he mocking Feliciano's childish ideals as being inferior to his own feelings? Feliciano worried his emotions were clear on his face, but Gilbert spoke without even glancing his way. "You and I really think alike when it comes to West..." He said, honest mirth in his voice. "It's a shame we can't get him to go along with it."

They suitably soothed Feliciano's worries, because it was obvious Gilbert was just amused by their similarities rather than being judgmental. However, Feliciano felt bad for jumping to conclusions yet again, letting anxiety get the better of him. What was there to be worried about? Gilbert was Ludwig's brother. Who else could understand Feliciano's affection for his best friend than his best friend's own loving brother? The brunette smiled after a moment, shaking his head at his own thoughts.

Gilbert, however, stiffened upon hearing Feliciano's statement about his role in the Underground Breakout, before the brunette could continue speaking. The easy air about them practically shattered as Gilbert's skin turned sallow. Immediately, Feliciano's smile fell into a worried expression. What had he done wrong now? Gilbert was openly agreeable with the idea of Feliciano wanting to do anything to help find Ludwig and keep him safe, so was it honestly so unbelievable that those feelings would extend, to a weaker degree, to the safety and freedom of all mutants?

Feliciano wasn't given much time to dwell on his confusion, distracted by the warmth of Gilbert's hand curling over his own. This drew its own worries, because with alarm Feliciano realized that Gilbert's fingers were trembling. Was he...scared? Sharp amber eyes took in Gilbert's profile, scanning it for anything he could use to figure out exactly what was bothering the pale blonde. He was obviously upset, of the nervous, scared variety, but why would he be perturbed by Feliciano's role in leading an impromptu escape (an almost complete failure of one at that)? Gilbert was still looking away, face ashen, but whatever thought he was having behind those averted red eyes led him to squeezing Feliciano's hand just a little tighter. Would it be acceptable for Feliciano to ask what was wrong? Before he could think of a good way to ask, though, Gilbert finally seemed to calm, pulling his hand away and looking embarrassed for having decided to hold the brunette's hand. "You really are full of surprises, Feli," Gilbert said, voice tight despite his words as he tucked the photograph back into his wallet. Almost like he needed a distraction. "But you shouldn’t be out in this cold... especially if what you said is true, you should be somewhere safe. People are probably looking for you."

Thankfully for Gilbert, Feliciano could clearly hear the genuine worry in his voice despite his obvious discomfort. It certainly helped even more that Feliciano still heard those words almost every single day from Alfred, even if they weren't said quite as nicely as Gilbert delivered them. With fondness he remembers Ludwig speaking to him about the cold, how Feliciano would never be cold again with him around. Now it was Feliciano's turn to laugh, bright and lighthearted. "I'm used to being much colder than this. Thank you for worrying about me, but I came prepared this time." Feliciano said, straightening out the lapels of his frumpy coat almost proudly. Despite the fact his skin still hated the coarse wool it was made from, the jacket did a decent job keeping his warmth trapped against his body. His smile turns fond. "You sound a lot like Luddi when you say that, ve. And someone else I know."

After a moment's thought, allowing himself to ruminate in fond memories, Feliciano continued speaking. His smile had faded into a much more serious expression, and his gaze never left Gilbert's "People are looking for me, but they're looking for Luddi, too. I won't sit back while Luddi's in danger, ve. I have to find him. I can't do much with my mutation, but I can find things no one else can. I can notice things other people overlook. Not to mean any harm to you, or my friend, but... I have a better chance of finding Luddi than anyone else. So...thank you for worrying about me, Gilbert. I really do appreciate it." The mutant reached out to squeeze Gilbert's hand, sighing quietly. "But...but I am not I am not going to hide, ve. I regret hurting that guard, but I didn't do anything wrong. I won't hide and let Luddi suffer because of me. I will find him."

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Gilbert Beilschmidt I am so sorry but I was bit by the muse and I had to reply lol