As a child, Gilbert was often bullied for being as compassionate as he was. Often caught sitting alone, he was ridiculed for being a "quiet freak" and "antisocial". He was born with red eyes and silver hair, much like his counterpart, which lead to the ridicule of being a "demon" and the multiple attempted murder situations that he found himself in. Drowning, burning, poisoning... they were all used as an attempt to rid of him. As a result, he found that using a form of dye made from berries or ink, whichever he could get his hands on, for both his eyes and his hair was sufficient enough that he was able to get by, even if the process was extremely painful.
During Gilbert's teenage years, he became extremely religious. Having no other sort of hope or faith to fall back on, Gilbert spent most of his time inside of the church, praying and relying on the word from his Bible to make him feel better. In the beginning, it didn't do much for him, but he was able to trick his mind and body into believing the feeling of lightness and contentment that he created. It was also around this time that he joined the Teutonic knights and began caring for his younger brother, Lutz. His time was so spent on working that he didn't have time to focus on the bad things. People still rumored and talked about him in town, but they didn't know where he had disappeared to. His dyed eyes and hair had become the perfect cover up to allow him to get by a little easier.
As time progressed and the eras changed, Gilbert's focus on his brother began to slack but his reliance on the Teutonic knights continued on into the 1900's. It wasn't until nearing the end of World War 2 that reality decided it was time to smack him in the face that he was as useless as the others had depicted him. Lutz, being the country to start the world war, had tried to get his brother to help him. He had needed more men for his army, but Gilbert's religiousness stopped him from participating in any sort of fighting. He was busying himself with the churches, even though most of them had been burned for their religious preached. He kept it secret, though, claiming to be running spy missions. Lutz was left to fight the war without his help, and because of Gilbert's chosen ignorance to the situation, Lutz suffered. The countries had come in at the end of the war and dragged him away to their own Prisoners of War camps that had been created specifically for nations. Lutz had been so scarred and sick that Gilbert's mind had blocked out the event. Gilbert had blamed himself for letting his baby brother get hurt.
It was then that his reliance on religion dropped. It hadn't guided him to protect his brother so he began to believe that it shouldn't take up his life. He still followed his practices, but not as closely as he had before. With his country annexed and his brother's fierce hatred for him, Gilbert had no money and needed a job. He had no qualifications for the working class, and most of the businesses were trying to keep their amount of workers low so as to have more money to pay back the debt that had been placed on Germany for the damage done. With the one thing he had left, he began to stand on street corners. He didn't dress in drag, but he had learned the universal signs. It only took a few nights before he was taken up on his offer by multiple customers, getting only enough to survive by.
Although able to push his consciousness to the back of his mind during his 'sessions', Gilbert was ridiculed for his scarred up body and, often times, his weight. He wasn't fat, but the customers were accustomed to skinner prostitutes. Night after night, the men and women would point these out as Gil gave them what they had come for, threatening to stop coming to him if he didn't lose that extra weight. He began to starve himself, but it didn't last too long until he didn't have a choice. Eventually, his job was pulled to an abrupt stop as the Berlin Wall was put into place and he was stolen away.
He was given a new job, but it was all the more horrible than his previous one. He didn't have the confidence, nor did he have the self-will or strength to defend himself as the Russian created a sex slave out of him. Of course, that had been his job before, but he had gotten money to eat and sustain himself with. With the Russian, he was starved for most of the week to prevent any sort resistance that might occur. He was sold out to other countries, humans, and was forced to please the other occupants of the Russians home. Ivan had taken to placing him in the cold basement where he kept most of his 'toys'. Upon developing Stockholm syndrome, Gil began proclaiming his love for his captor. This only made things worse on Gilbert's part.
Ivan began beating him upon request with the weapon of Gilbert's choosing. Sometimes he would choose the infamous metal pipe, and other times it would be the leather whip. Gilbert had seen it as a sign of being wanted, and Ivan simply complied out of infatuation with seeing the other bleed. Even when the wall was brought down between the two counties, France and Spain had to force the other to leave. It took years to work Gil's mind into the right state again, and consciously he became sick at himself. He ended up in an abusive relationship soon after, but it didn't last for long seeing as the man was killed. Not eating kept prominent in his life, and little to no money was always a big problem as well, but the development of time had changed the world and opened up other opportunities for the Prussian. He had continued to dye the color of his eyes and his hair, somehow having become accustomed to the pain that it caused.
In the beginning of his first relationship, Gilbert was pretty happy. It was more of a contentment feeling, but he opted for saying 'happy'. After years of being alone, he'd finally managed to make himself likable enough that he hooked himself a relationship with one Alfred F. Jones. That happy feeling was short lived, and though Alfred was good to him for a while by doing small things that had never been done for him before, after about two months it all went down the drain. Alfred started cheating, leaving Gil alone almost all the time, and thinking that Gilbert wouldn't notice. But Gil was a lot smarter than anyone gave him credit for. He liked to think it was because of all the reading he did, which he seemed to only gain more and more time for. It wasn't too long after that that the abuse started.
To cope with the abuse, Gilbert would go out to the park to sing for the people who frequented the place. He had a jar that he set out for any sort of donations, but he didn't ask for anything. He didn't want to see like one of those people who had enough money and tried to dig up more even though he really didn't have much. He just made sure he kept himself neat. It was during this time that he decided he didn't want to go home. He just wanted to keep singing, to keep his mind away from the bad things and be able to relax for once. He knew there was a chance that Al would come looking for him, but he chose to deal with that situation when the time came.
Gilbert had lain down on the bench hours ago as the people all began to pack up and leave, the light from the sun dimming down to a soft glow as shadows began to cover the ground. He had continued singing to keep himself company in the meantime.
"Popular. I know about popular, and all that you have to do is be true to you. That's all you ever need to know," he sang, bouncing his foot to the beat that played inside of his head. It was like the music was playing all around him, deafening him to the world around him.
"Salut, Gilbert," came a gruff voice and a poke to the shoulder. Gilbert jumped to his feet, startled from the unpredicted poke. He whirled around to face him.
Upon recognizing who the visitor was his eyes immediately fall to gaze at his feet. The fact that Matt had his hockey stick with him just made poor Gilbert all the more nervous. It wasn't that he had had any bad experiences with Mattheiu; it was just that Mattheiu was known to be ruthless at times.
"H-hallo, Matt... H-How are you?" he stuttered out, hands coming down to pull at the hem of his shirt. The Canadian was immediately able to pick out Gilbert's discomfort with his presence.
"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm bored, so entertain me!" Mattheiu was quick to get to the point, not wasting any time with side conversations. He wanted entertainment, and he wanted it now! But the request only confused the tiny Prussian man, causing him to cant his head to the side in curiosity.
But with the curiosity came fear. He could only imagine what his idea of entertainment was when he was bored. If it was anything like his brother's, Gilbert would be in a lot of trouble. He couldn't defend himself that well just yet, and because he had the lack of food in his system, he wasn't even strong enough to try.
"How am I supposed to entertain you? I'm not exactly sure what you would consider entertainment," he replied, trying to wiggle his way out of the conversation.
"You're entertaining enough," he smirked, leaning on his stick. "Your whole... 'Innocent' thing you got going on here is pretty interesting."
By now, Gilbert was so confused he didn't know what to make of the situation.
"How so...?" Mattheiu only poked him with the stick again. He pushed it away carefully, being tentative so that he didn't set the other off into a rage. "My so called 'innocence' isn't an act, Matt... I thought you knew this by now..." The blond only scratches his head, his locks coming slightly lose.
"Eh... I don't really pay attention to my surroundings Gilly."
"So I've noticed," he sighs, keeping a sharp eye on him. "So what do you really want?"
The only thing he got in return was the reply he'd gotten before. This wasn't specific enough for Gilbert to be able to help him out, though, and he repeated his previous question of what he liked for entertainment. And that was when things got interesting. Mattheiu reacted in a way that Gilbert had never seen, or anyone else had seen for that matter, and it send him into a fit of worry. The Canadian wasn't acting like himself at all.
Mattheiu groaned loudly, throwing himself down on the bench where Gilbert was previously laying. He hung his head, hockey stick being dropped to the ground. "I don't know Gil… I just need a distraction..."
Gilbert moved to stand in front of the other, worry etched into his features. "A Distraction from what?"
"Everything," was his reply.
Kneeling in front of him, Gil gave him an encouraging smile. He'd be able to use the one ability he had going for him to help the supposed treat. That was kind of awkward.
"Want to talk about it? Maybe I could help."
Mattheiu sighed, putting his head down on his knees. "Well... I've been having these dreams, and they're so vivid and real... That's why I came to see you today b-because..."
His speaking stutters to a stop as he looks away. Gilbert wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or if it was because of something else, but he waited for him to continue. "Because…?"
"Because in every dream you disappear... Like you just slowly fade away and I can't do anything about it. You just slip through my arms Gil... and I can't stop it..."
It wasn't like that was entirely impossible. Gilbert's nation had been dissolved years ago. Many nations said it was just a fluke that he was still here, that he was a lost cause and he would eventually fade away completely. After the end of World War Two, Lutz had made him East Germany, but even so, he figured that he would have lost everything to him.
Gilbert frowned, hesitantly placing a hand on Matt's knee. "We never know what's going to happen, Matt. Sometimes... shit just happens..." He bites his lip, wondering if he should keep going with what he was saying.
He did.
"I thought I was going to die yesterday but... surprisingly, I didn't," he says, looking up at him. "I don't think you need to worry, Matt. I may not belong here, but I'm still here, aren't I? Thank you for caring, none the less, though... It makes me feel a bit better about myself to know that I have at least one friend..."
From there, the two simply became closer and closer. Mattheiu finally nominated Gilbert to be his friend, his best friend. Every day, Mattheiu would come to the park bench where they'd had their first meeting in years and just talk to him, listening to him sing to the people for money, and sometimes would even sneak in a little of his own money just to help the Prussian out. Sometimes he would bring his old acoustic guitar and play while he sang, joining in on the harmony since it was a common passion between the two. They'd stay out late every night just walking around. Every now and then they'd go to dinner together or go back to Matt's place to spend the night, and sometimes they'd even go out drinking together. Gilbert was a very affectionate drunk, though, so he made sure that it didn't happen too often.
It wasn't until a few months later that Mattheiu finally brought back up a subject that had lain in the dark for far too long. The night they had rekindled their friendship, Gilbert had said something about thinking he was going to die, and ever since then it had been on Mattheiu's mind. He had simply wanted to focus on building on their friendship and hadn't mentioned it.
They had been watching movies for the past few hours at Mattheiu's place. Gilbert was sprawled out over the couch, a leg on the back of it and the other hanging off, his hands tucked back under his head. Matthew was sitting in a similar position except he was laying back into the corner, his legs folded up close to him. As the credits for the most recent movie began to roll, Matt looked over to the sleepy-looking Prussian.
"Hey, Gil?" he asked, keeping his eyes on him. "Remember the night we started talking again?"
Gilbert was thoughtful for a short while before nodding and giving a hum of acknowledgement.
"You said you had almost died… What did you mean by that?"
Gilbert froze, immediately looking away from him. He had taken a vow to tell Mattheiu the truth and nothing but the truth in anything that happened between them. Even now, with something so sensitive, he knew he had to stick to that.
"Alfred went... dark... and some stuff happened... But everything is okay now. I got away with a simple bite, nothing more."
Knowing his brother better than anyone else in the world, Mattheiu tensed and his eyes went wide.
"W-What?" he stuttered out, sitting up straight. "Gil, please be more careful. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you…" He pulled him into a tight hug, hiding his face in his hair.
The action shocked Gilbert, causing his eyes to widen. "M-Matt..." Touched, he wrapped his arms around the Canadian tight, hugging him back. "You don't need to be so afraid... I'll be okay... I've lived through worse..."
But Mattheiu knew better. He knew that his brother became a horny bastard when he slipped. He knew the things Alfred could and would do to a person as vulnerable as Gilbert when he slipped. He knew it was a complete miracle that Gilbert had gotten away unscathed for the most part. There were a few bruises here, and a scrape or two there, but otherwise he was fine.
Mattheiu didn't even know that his brother was dating his best friend until a few days later when Gilbert finally got up the guts to tell him, and that was when the rest of the story came out as well. Hearing that Gilbert had almost been forced into having sex, especially because Gilbert was a virgin, Mattheiu became extremely angry. He had immediately set to getting his hockey stick and finding his little brother, who he would eventually beat black and blue over Gilbert.
At the moment, Gilbert wasn't having it, though. Even though he was slightly angry with Alfred for it, Alfred had apologized with every chance he had gotten and tried to make up for it. Mattheiu still didn't approve of their relationship, even if Alfred had done at least a few good things for Gilbert. Even if Gilbert never said it out loud, he could definitely tell that Mattheiu had something against the idea more than just wanting to protect him, but he wouldn't say anything to Matt about it. He would let it all come out on his own. But he got his biggest hint during their spat over whether or not Matt could hurt Al.
"Why do you want to hurt him so bad? I mean, I knew you wouldn't approve, but why don't you?" he had asked, looking up at him tentatively. Mattheiu had only stared down at him sadly, patting his head.
"Because he hurt you, obviously."
Gilbert could only sigh softly, letting himself relax in the tiniest bit. "But you act like there's more to it…" Mattheiu grinned shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. Gilbert could tell with the look that the other gave him that he had noticed something that he should of, and he reached up to pat his arm gently. "Tell me, please?"
Mattheiu only shook his head, promising to tell him at a later time. Instead, he worked the conversation off onto another walk. Gilbert, as smart as he could be, was easily deterred, not wanting to bring up something that Mattheiu felt to be personal. He nodded at the suggestion and smiled, taking Mattheiu's hand and leading him out the door. He had a special place that he would take him, one that he was frequent to. He let Mattheiu know this.
"I love this place," he said in a soft voice. "It's quiet and peaceful, and I love the trees here. It's kind of odd, though, because they're all dead."
And Mattheiu tried to find the beauty in what he was seeing, laughing out, "I guess… If you look past the ugliness, something beautiful really is here… or some poetic crap like that."
As they continued through the dead trees, Gilbert led the violet-eyed man to another part of the landing, exposing an ocean side ledge. Gilbert had found this place one day when he was upset. He had accidentally ended up here since he had just let his feet move for him. At this point in time, the sun was just setting for the two of them.
Mattheiu pulled Gilbert over to the ledge, making him sit before sitting down beside of him. "It's beautiful!" he exclaimed. "Oh, lets watch the sunset together Gilly!" His face was flushed bright red. Gilbert could only giggle softly and nod.
As they watched the sunset, they talked about little things. One of those was why Mattheiu seemed to be so fond of their friendship, but his only reply was that they simply 'had that sort of connection'. And changing the subject once more, Gil was invited to Matt's house for another night with the promise of pancakes and mattress fights because they were 'manly'. They talked until well after the sun set low behind the horizon, and after heading home, they had pancakes. It didn't matter what time it was; those things were amazing.
Bantering over who was making the food and who was picking out yet another movie, they finally fell into their rolls with Gilbert poking at how 'cute' Matt was and why he was allowed to say things like that without getting into any trouble from the other. He could tell that he was Matt's special exception. If he were anyone else, Mattheiu would have beaten him half to death by now.
That night, they opted to just share a bed. The couch wasn't really all that comfortable and they trusted each other, so sleeping together was perfectly okay for the both of them. Besides, Gilbert was curious about Mattheiu's nightmares about him. He hadn't been told everything about them yet, and he hadn't been able to completely stop them, but he was trying. He had never tried this before, though.
They hadn't been laying there for very long before Mattheiu tensed and broke out into a cold seat, rapid pants of "No… Y-You can't… P-Please…" coming out and waking Gilbert up. He was a rather light sleeper, but he thought that he was just imagining it at first. As he turned over to his other side, trying to get comfortable once more, he could hear Matt's breathing quicken. He slid up to rest on one of his arms, the other shaking the Canadian's shoulders.
"Mattie," he called out, shaking him a bit harder. "Matt, wake up."
"No," was his only reply, the man's face scrunching up in pain. His breathing hitched and he let out a soft whimper. "Don't… Please, Gilbert… Alfie… DON'T!" And then, he suddenly bolted up with a scream, panting hard and clutching at the nearest surface he could get his hands on.
"Matt, what's wrong?" he asked, looking over the man worriedly. He placed a hand on the disoriented man's shoulder, causing him to jump.
"O-Oh… Gilly!? Gilly…" His voice cracked as he pulled the other into a tight, desperate hug. "I'm sorry… I woke you, didn't I."
Gilbert hugged him back carefully, shaking his head a bit. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine. Did you have that dream again?"
He jolted slightly when he felt a warm wetness on his shoulder. Knowing Matt wasn't one to cry, it had startled him, causing him to tense for a short moment before relaxing once more. Silent tears fell down Mattheiu's face and onto Gil's shoulder, rolling down onto his back. His throat was tight, stopping any words from coming out. Gilbert stayed patient, hugging him a little tighter and weaving a hand into Matt's hair, caressing his blond locks gently in an attempt to soothe him.
"Tell me about it, Mattie… Let me know how to help you."
Mattheiu began to shake his head no, but stopped himself as he changed his mind. He looked at Gil with a deep sadness in his eyes, a hint of fear shining in them as well. He moved back away from Gilbert to pull his legs up to his chest, resting his head on his knees.
"Well, we were in a dark room. I don't know what we were doing there, but I was terrified. Then Alfie walked in… holding his bat," he said thickly, pausing when it began to hurt his throat. "I tried to move in front of you but I couldn't… He walked towards you and I was screaming at him to back off but he couldn't hear me. You were begging him not to, but he just kept coming, and then he raised his bat and…" Matt bit his lip harshly, leaving it for Gilbert to finish himself since it was obvious.
Gilbert looked at him with sad eyes, moving so that he was sitting beside of Matt and pulling him down so that he was resting against his chest. "Mattie, I'll be okay... You don't need to worry so much about me," he says, running a hand through his hair. "I know you care about me a lot, and although I don't know the full extent of your caring, I know that if it were to happen, it would affect you greatly. But I doubt that'll happen. Even if Al went dark on me again, the more probably thing to happen would be that I get raped... or close to it like last time. I won't leave you alone, okay? Do you understand me?"
Mattheiu held onto him like a child, his voice broken up by sniffles. "Of course I have to worry about you, Gilly," he said softly. "You're the only one I've got…"
Gilbert smiled, hugging him a little closer. "Let's go back to sleep, okay, Mattie? It's already late and if we don't sleep at least a few more hours, we'll be dead tired when we wake up." Mattheiu only nodded, allowing Gilbert to settle them both down.
"Bon nuit, Gilly," Mattheiu murmured, pulling the other close and tangling their legs together. Gilbert blushed softly but settled content against his chest.
"Night, Mattie…"