I never really understood why when a person cried, they were portrayed with long streaks of moisture running down their cheeks and dripping off their chins into puddles on the floor. When I was a child and I happened to be crying, I never let the tears get further then just below the eye. It was habit and the tears were really uncomfortable on my skin. Wet…cold…they made my eyes itch and feel dry from the salt contained within each drop. Now though…I understand.

I stood and let them fall. My body felt so numb that the wetness…the cold…the itch…the dry feeling…they didn't bother me. I let the tears form in my eyes and slide swiftly down my paled cheeks into the wet spots on my shirt that the previous tears had formed.

Now I realize that, in movies and books and even in real life, they let the tears fall because nothing else really matters. Nothing feels real. Hearing those simple words, 'he passed during the night', 'I'm afraid she didn't make it', 'they won't be waking up'…it makes everything solid feel hallow…as if you've fallen into a dream that rips your sanity and burns it before your eyes. You keep expecting them to laugh and say they were just joking. Everything's really going to be fine. The machine just…broke; that they're really still alive. But that doesn't happen. That's why they let the tears fall. It's the only real thing they feel…that they can trust.

The tears will keep coming and nothing will stop them. They may pause, but its only fleeting. You know, deep within your heart, mind and soul that those damn tears will spring up again and again until the spring runs dry. Then they'll just come anyway.

I stood staring down at the bed. The white sheets lay perfectly around his stilled body. Why wouldn't they be? The doctors said he wouldn't be waking up anytime soon and so far, they were right. Six months since the crash. Six months since the last time I saw him smile. Six months since I last told him off for being immature and stupid…even though I'm the younger brother.

"Ludwig…"

I looked over at my grandfather. Strong, proud…German. He had been my guardian for the past six months since both my parents had died in the crash that put my brother here…in ICU.

"Ludwig…do you.." he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. My grandfather had never really been the emotional sort…like me, but…I couldn't stop the emotions from pouring out through my eyes. "…do you want some…time alone…with him?"

I nodded. He responded with a gruff nod before muttering that he'd be outside waiting for me and leaving.

Now alone, I turned back to my brother and shut my eyes tightly, trying to get the perfect image of him. Of Gilbert.

Brilliant red eyes, full of kindness and energy. They had once held an unmistakable fire that proved to be most annoying and meddlesome…as well as intelligent and determined. His cocky attitude and obnoxious laugh. His messy silver hair…he never let me gel it…of course now, because of him, I don't gel it either.

"Kesesesese~! You'll never get laid with hair like that! Here! Let me!"

He'd messed it up and forced me out of the house…that's how I met my current boyfriend. Yes…boyfriend. Gilbert had also taught me that it's ok to be you no matter what others say.

Gilbert was an annoying, selfish brat, but…deep down, he was the best older brother I could ever ask for. Always willing to help and stand up for me. Wanting to make sure I was safe and happy…sometimes even at his own expense.

I opened my eyes a gazed down at him. He was pale. Not the albino pale like usual, but the sickly pale, where your skin is thin and papery, you have dark circles under your eyes and you just look…dead. There were tubs connected to his arm and placed down his throat. Every few seconds a beep would resonate throughout the room, telling you that he was alive.

Of course that was the whole issue. The beeps wouldn't be there for much longer. The hospital bills were piling, the doctors weren't sure, hope was fading...there wasn't anything left. The crash had destroyed his body and left him in an unresponsive state. The swelling was down, but there was nothing left. There was no more hope in Gilbert waking up. It had been too long with too much damage.

Slowly, I walked over to him and griped his cold hand. He felt dead. His heartbeat, but he was already dead. He had been…for a long time.

"G-Gilbert…I'm sorry." I choked out, finally letting out the emotions that had been squeezing out with my tears. "I s-should have waited before c-c-calling Muttie. I knew you were all d-dinner fore you're promotion a-an-and I shouldn't have been s-s-so selfish. I should have just let you h-h-have y-y-your moment, but…but I was jealous. You got to go to d-dinner and I was stuck at the school working with that s-stupid group." I sighed. "I just…"

Joining the group hadn't been my idea. I had been elected because of my grades and smarts in that subject. I would have rather of been at the dinner…or anywhere for a matter of fact. "I had wanted out of there so…I called and…you got hit." I sniffled and finally wiped my eyes with my free hand not holding onto Gilbert as a lifeline.

"I just…I lost Mutti and Vati and now…now I'm going to lose you too."

I sighed again. I knew that talking things over was supposed to bring a sort of…comfort or closure to me, but I felt nothing. I still felt soulless and empty, save for the tears that were still finding their way down my face.

I kissed his hand. "I d-d-don't want to lose you, b-b-but I know that I can't hold onto you forever. You're already away from your body. It's just…me holding you here. Keeping you tied here."

"I think there was something I c-could have done to stop this, but…you were meant to die." My eyes closed tightly and I wished that what I was saying wasn't true, but it was. "I love you, bruder. I'll…I'll see you again…"

I kissed his hand again and then his forehead. Swallowing hard, I wiped at the tears again and made my way out the door to where my grandfather waited. He didn't say anything, only nodded before we left.

Good-bye, Gilbert…