Right to Live

by Kat Dakuu

Prussia thinks he lives by his power and his alone. Everything from his bad work ethic to his rebellions are a purposeful act. It is the fault of one thought: that he will die if he tosses 'Prussia' aside and accepts life as East Germany. He pushes himself past his limits as Germany watches in confusion, trying to keep him from hurting himself.

(AN: The love portrayed here is not explicitly romantic as it focuses on brotherly and deep platonic emotions. Nor does it exclude the possibility of more beyond what is shown in this story. Read their relationship as you will.
Lars=Netherlands
Mathias=Denmark
Lukas=Norway)

Right to Live

"Brother, I'm home." Ludwig slammed the door shut. Someone yelped and a thud sounded from the living room. Sighing, Ludwig kicked off his shoes and walked toward the noise. His older brother just re-situated himself on the couch when Ludwig entered behind him. The chip crumbs and wrapper crushed to the floor beneath Gilbert's shoe told him a story: he didn't expect Ludwig home this early and fell off the couch. Brilliant. Gilbert wiped crumbs off on his shirt then threw his arms around Ludwig's middle.

"Welcome back, bro!"

Ludwig groaned and shoved Gilbert off of him. "Must you make such a mess?" He shook his head. He knew Gilbert cared about cleanliness more than this, so why had he become so irresponsible since their reunification? "No, of course you must. Let me get the vacuum." Ludwig whirled away, ignoring his brother's yelp.

"What the hell? Can't you see I'm watching tv?" Gilbert complained with a gesture to the DVD playing across the big screen. Ludwig ignored him and plugged in the vacuum. Gilbert scrabbled for the pause button, cursing under his breath. Without any regard to his brother huddled on the couch lest his feet get run over, Ludwig pushed back the table and sucked up the mess.

A minute later, Ludwig wheeled the vacuum back to the hall closet. He returned to shift Gilbert to the side and ran the little handheld vacuum over the couch. Gilbert watched with his arms crossed over his chest. "Was the world meeting that stressful?"

Ludwig paused to raise an eyebrow. Of course Gilbert read him. He could tell the difference between 'I like things clean' and 'I need to clean before I go insane' because he raised Ludwig. He nodded his head sharply. He didn't bother to elaborate, not when he felt no need. Instead, he hoped against hope for something to improve his mood. "Did you finish the work I gave you?"

Gilbert grinned and hugged a pillow. "Nope!"

A muscle in Ludwig's jaw twitched. He expected this. He really shouldn't have, but Gilbert made him this way. When did his standards drop so low when he used to admire his brother like a god? Well, Ludwig knew Gilbert had little of that glory left. He should have been able to work some though. "Then what did you do the whole weekend?" he tried not to growl. His sigh sounded strained though. If Gilbert noticed, he didn't show it.

"Watched tv?" The silence grew a little thinner. Suddenly, Gilbert jumped up from the couch. "Oh! I did something great. This will help your mood a lot. You see, I went to Japan for the day and bought this thing for you," he chattered as he disappeared behind a pile of new clutter that hadn't been there before. Ludwig would have remembered the set of novelty rubber ducks, each decked out in war costumes. When Gilbert popped back into view, he carried a medium sized box. This he thrust into Ludwig's hands. "A back massager!"

Ludwig stared at the box and it's picture, completely at a loss. "You think…this exempts you…from work?" he asked. His mind did not compute. He tried to be patient, really. He tried so hard, but today he felt that control slipping away. Gilbert stood tall and proud, except Ludwig stood taller. His brother's satisfied grin looked out of place, like something from a century past. And of course, that's exactly what it was. Ludwig slapped the box back into his brother's hands. "Your joke is not amusing. Next time, just do your work!" With a sigh he added, "You used to be the older brother here." He couldn't stop the sadness seeping from his voice before he turned away. With a slam of the door, he left to soak himself in a warm bath.

The funny thing was, Ludwig didn't hate taking on the role of 'older brother'. He liked being mature, liked protecting and taking care of Gilbert. The one who hated this was him. He rebelled like a teenager for no reason at all. Ludwig sank up to his nose in the warm water where he couldn't hear anything but his thoughts. Why won't you let me help you?

Gilbert pushed his bedroom door closed and leaned against it for a minute. The running water next door sounded like rain on his window. "I'm sorry, Lud. Even if you beg me, I can't do the things you ask." Sometimes he wished Ludwig would hear the pleas he said every night. He muttered his apologies in the solitude of his room though. This was all on Gilbert. All his troubles, all his fight. Ludwig had nothing to do with it so Gilbert kept to himself.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he felt far more weary than usual. His shoulders slumped and he sunk further down into the soft comfort. How long ago did he last slept a night through, not forcing himself to wake in terror, only to realize he still lived? Gilbert nearly dropped onto his back and just fell asleep, but he couldn't allow himself to relax yet. Instead, he tilted forward until he knelt on the floor. His hands clasped together as if to pray, but he wasn't praying to God.

I am alive. I am still alive and I will be alive tomorrow. I cannot die. I cannot because I am Prussia. I. Am. Prussia. This one thing will never change. I do not accept you, East Germany because I will not be my brother. I will not fade into you. I simply will not and cannot allow myself to die.

Gilbert slumped on the floor, an errant blanket tumbling down on top of him. He curled it about his shoulders with thin, pale fingers. The blanket did nothing to erase his chill. The feeling started inside of him, like he really was a ghost. His inner core turned to ice long ago, but he tried to fight it. He fought it every night in his prayers and every second of his day with rebellions. He feared if he accepted his new life with Ludwig too much, he'd lose what it meant to be himself. The last threads of self-separation that kept him existing with his kingdom already gone would snap. He'd die. Gone, fade, no more. Besides, he couldn't work even if he wanted to. He was too busy trying to convince himself in every moment that he was still Prussia because his determination was the only thing keeping him alive. If he let himself relax, it would be over. One second of weakness and the game would end.

Gilbert fell asleep with his prayer repeating in his dreams.

"Brother?" Tapping at his door woke Gilbert. He lay on the floor, body sore and cold. The discomfort barely registered in his mind after too many nights like this. He was strong in spirit. Just something like this wouldn't stop him. Prussia went through far more than insomnia and paranoia before.

"Go away, Lud!" Gilbert snapped. His harsh voice expelled with visible breath. When did his room get so cold? When did he care more about that than the harshness of his own voice? He came to dread mornings though. Every night he begged to stay in the oblivion of darkness. Every day he begged to never fall into it again. At least last night he slept.

Ludwig hesitated outside, his feet making shuffling noises before he sighed. "Come out when you want breakfast. I have to go to the office. I…want to see you before I go." Finally the feet moved away and left Gilbert staring at the sunny glow under his door. Ludwig wouldn't enter his room; he wasn't allowed to. Surely he'd say something if he did. Heavy black sheets covered the window. Duct tape blocked out his digital clock's numbers. Clutter grew here and there, always clean of real grime, but tossed about as if he searched frantically through all of his belongings every day. Sometimes that wasn't far from the truth. The Prussian flag that once hung on the wall got torn down long ago and covered his bed where he could be close to it. Gilbert realized the blanket that did so little for him last night was just that. He lifted the edge, staring at the black border. Is this all that's left of me?

He spent ten minutes getting ready for the day, more than he used to spend. In a distant past, he threw on clothes and that was that. Now he fixed his hair, picked clothes that hid the weight he never gained back after the reunification, and placed concealer under his eyes. Albino's showed dark circles under them too easily. Gilbert's carefree attitude came without effort. He found the mask familiar and comforting, almost to the point he believed it to be real. The entire time he readied himself though, he mind stayed guarded.

Gilbert found Ludwig in the kitchen. After half a cup of coffee, his mood lifted. "When did you buy this jam?" he asked, sniffing an open jar. Blueberry-walnut scent wafted up and made his toes curl. He never said it, but he loved this flavor most. Now he just needed some bread to put it on.

"Hm?" Ludwig hummed as he set the loaf in the center of the table. Gilbert raised his eyebrow. He didn't just get his thoughts answered. He knew their minds were still too separate for it. "That jar? It doesn't have a label. Didn't Roderick make it?"

Gilbert sniffed again. He slathered some on a slice. Tasty, but not familiar. Maybe he obsessed over the past so much because he found it slipping away from him. He just chuckled and shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you make stuff like this, Lud? You'd look so cute in an apron!"

Pink flashed over Ludwig's face, increasing Gilbert's grin. The younger brother flailed for words. Oh Gilbert could see those gears turning just like they always had behind the soldier personality. He never really changed. The only one who did was Gilbert. "I'm glad you're feeling better today," Ludwig finally said, sighing. Gilbert blinked at him in surprise. Since when did Lud have a clue what went on inside his head? Gilbert snorted and jabbed a fork in his brother's direction.

"Why wouldn't I be, idiot? Hey, make me breakfast tomorrow too." Each bite he took filled him with a little more warmth. He liked this, being together with just his brother. He reached across the table to ruffle Ludwig's hair. The younger man still had a flustered look which made Gilbert burst out with laughter. "I'm so glad God blessed me with a cute brother like you." Even if he didn't believe in God anymore. He lost that somewhere during the second world war, but some days, he thought he must have done something right to see a little of that old glory again. Maybe Ludwig just became his new God.

Ludwig ate his own breakfast in near silence. He let Gilbert lead the conversation and laughed along. They both laughed with the ease of old days. On mornings like this, he found himself forgetting his worries. They were brothers again and Gilbert was the same. Always, always his most precious older brother. When he reached across the table to capture the pale fingers sitting there, Gilbert let him. That's right, take my hand. After a second though, Gilbert pulled away.

He stood and spun to the other side of the kitchen. The light shone too brightly. Everywhere, warmth and sunshine. Birds singing outside made Gilbert feel dizzy. He so loved that song and now it surrounded him with a comfort his blanket could never give. For a second, he felt himself grow weak. He so badly longed to live in this sunshine.

"Let me do the dishes!"

Strange. Ludwig nodded numbly. "Do you want me to help?" he asked. It was the polite thing to do. Besides, it was his house. He never ducked out of chores if only because he enjoyed them. Gilbert swatted him with a dishtowel.

"Nein! If I let you help, you'll end up doing it all yourself!" He collected the remnants of breakfast from the table and set them aside. The dishes he gathered and placed in the sink before filling it. That sunshine washed over him again. These motions felt familiar even though it had been so long. Gilbert found himself humming a song. He didn't notice the strange look Ludwig gave him, only noticing him when he reached for a towel.

Ludwig's voice remained quiet and close. "I only have ten minutes left. At least let me do the drying." He slipped from behind to beside Gilbert, but he stayed near. Their shoulders bumped and Gilbert passed him a plate. The two brothers did the dishes in silence, never meeting eyes, but comfortable. Gilbert continued to hum and after a while, Ludwig added his own voice to the tune. Time slipped away, ceasing to have meaning like so many other things. It was just too comfortable.

When Gilbert switched off the water and turned, he found Ludwig watching him. The man's strong arms bulged out of his shirt where he rolled up the sleeves. Blonde wisps escaped his gelled back hairdo, giving him a younger appearance. Everyone saw a soldier when they looked at Ludwig, but not Gilbert. He always saw a place to land. Even as a tiny lad, Ludwig did that to him. Why did Gilbert have to deny himself his one special place now? He blinked his eyes rapidly, considered backing away, but couldn't. He wanted to fall out of the nightmare right then. His mouth opened in a silent question. Do you have any idea how bad I need you? Need you and can't get near?

Suddenly, Ludwig pulled him close. Arms wrapped around until Gilbert fell flush against his chest. "B-brother?" Ludwig held him too tightly for Gilbert to see his face. He tried to pull back, fisting his hands in Ludwig's shirt. For all his flailing though, he couldn't dislodge those arms. He settled after a second and let Ludwig's arms curl into a hug rather than a cage. Ludwig patted his back then squeezed one of his arms as if to measure it. Gilbert realized that's exactly what he was doing.

"Have you been eating properly? Your arms are too thin," Ludwig chided. He measured Gilbert's waist in the same way, making him yelp. He stayed in those arms though, forgetting to care when one his secrets got out.

"Aren't yours just too big?" Gilbert muttered. How could someone as strong as Ludwig act like such a mother? Ludwig blinked slowly and Gilbert laughed without forcing himself to. "I don't remember raising you to be such a worrywart." He felt warm, a little dizzy. Ludwig pressed their foreheads together and Gilbert had to squeeze his eyes shut. For seconds or a minute, too long and too short, they stood like that. Ludwig's whisper fit the mood, whatever it was.

"You have a bit of a fever." No it wasn't fever. Ludwig made him feel this warm so it couldn't be coming from inside. The redness in Gilbert's face meant…something. Why couldn't he think what right now? Ludwig pulled back, but his hands slipped up to frame Gilbert's face and keep him from running away. As if he could now. He found himself rooted to the spot. Even when Ludwig pressed a kiss to his his forehead. "You know your everything is mine now, so take better care of yourself."

A hint of indignation flashed through Gilbert. "Then being a part of you, it's your fault if I'm feeling crummy." What? Gilbert's eyes went wide. The spot where Ludwig placed his kiss sent a shock straight through his skull into his brain. Gilbert shoved his brother away and into the counter. "What the hell do you think you're doing!? I'm not yours! Don't treat me like a child, asshole. I'm still your older brother!" Panic continued to consume him. He had to get away from Ludwig now. How could he get this comfortable? This complacent?

Gilbert pushed and pushed, ignoring his brother's shocked expression as he forced him to the door. "Go to work and don't come back for all I care! I'm just fine without you, little bro!" He slammed the door in Ludwig's face. Shaking far worse than he should be, he slid to the floor. Cold tiles, wonderful cold tiles pressed against his cheek. Without thinking, he clasped his hands together in prayer.

I am not my brother. I'm still me. God, please let me still be me! I won't slip up again so don't let me die. Do I have to believe in you to be saved? I believe in me. Me. Me. Me. I am still Prussia, aren't I? Even if I lose a little resolution, I'm still not Germany. God please don't let me die.

He didn't know how long he lay on the floor. When Gilbert came to again, clouds smothered the sun away. He found himself laughing with relief. He didn't know how to deal with the sunshine. This dark eased his soul so much more. Ludwig asked him to eat more, so Gilbert purposely walked past the kitchen. He wouldn't do any paperwork either—nothing with East Germany on the top of it anyway. He found himself in his room again where he sunk into his belongings as if he could absorb them through his skin. Skin, these clothes felt wrong against his skin. Gilbert instantly shed them. In his closet, he found his Prussian army uniform. The threadbare cloth sat baggy on him and only two buttons remained, but he needed it. The glorious plume that once adorned his hat lay in a matted yellow mess against the dark fabric. When he stood in front of his mirror though, the sun seemed to halo him from behind. All he saw was his old self, not the least bit worn by time.

"Prussia is so amazing!" He didn't need Germany and he didn't need Ludwig. How long did he get on fine by himself? Ludwig was like a trap and mostly definitely not a safe place to land. Gilbert thrust out his hand for his bird to land on. Three seconds passed. He jabbed his hand out again before he realized he hadn't seen Lil Fritz in days. "Damn bird. Where's he gone now?" He couldn't see anything in this dark. Gilbert kicked the wall, but only dust tumbled down from a shelf. Panic wrapped itself around him again. "Gah! Where's my lint brush?!" He brushed frantically at himself before the panic spread to not just his image, but everything.

The entire day, he fixed up his room. Belongings found their place on shelves and he folded the clothes. His flag laid in a neat little square at the foot of his bed. He dusted everything meticulously. One spec of dust could tarnish that past forever. Glory for glory's sake. If he told himself it was true, then the sun never set on empires. His continued existence was proof of that. All it took was a conviction such as never before set foot on this earth since him and a fighting spirit that wouldn't let go. That Gilbert never lacked in. He didn't eat; he didn't sleep. When the dawn sun rose outside, he couldn't see it past the wall of blackness he painted his room in. Who needed sunshine anyway?

xXx

Ludwig found the house exactly as he left it the previous morning. "Gilbert?" he called. Normally his brother greeted him no matter how they left things at their parting. Yesterday was worse than usual though. Ludwig started chewing his lip like he had been for the past 24 hours. He couldn't even come home last night for fear Gilbert would look at him that way again. If he really wanted Ludwig gone then…but it was his house. He had to come home at some point. Was that how Gilbert really thought of him? Ludwig noticed him change five or ten years ago. It started gradual, like the face Gilbert always wore started to crack. He must have always been wearing the mask, but it wore down with time. Ludwig pretended he didn't know, but how could he not? They were brothers.

Unfortunately, he noticed it too slow, when things already divided too deep between them. Gilbert still seemed happy, just different until now. It felt like yesterday Ludwig got a window into the real Gilbert and he really didn't like what he saw. Ludwig came to a stop outside Gilbert's locked door.

"Brother…are you here?"

He didn't get a response. Ludwig reached for the doorknob, but he dropped his hand at the last second. The barrier between them couldn't come down and Ludwig was just as at fault for it. He let Gilbert build it up until the wall towered over the physical one that once separated them. Ludwig found this one so much harder to cross maybe because it was his brother who put it up. Gilbert didn't want him to cross, so Ludwig waited stupidly for ten minutes outside his door, unable to convince himself he wanted to enter. In the end, he left to shower without knowing if Gilbert was even home.

Physically refreshed, but still stressed, Ludwig decided to clean the house. Noon approached, he started lunch, and finally decided Gilbert went out for the night and had yet to return. He didn't come for breakfast. Ludwig didn't expect him to show up when he commented about some paperwork that needed signed, but he expected breakfast. Breakfast was their time for each other, impossible to start the day without. Without thinking, Ludwig found himself putting together Gilbert's favorite dish. He then sat at the table with his own food and waited.

He finished eating, but he still waited. He picked the tiny crumbs from his plate, then glanced at the clock. 1:17. Didn't Gilbert plan to eat one meal with him? Ludwig found himself chewing on his nails by 1:30 as he sat ramrod straight in the same chair. He already washed the dishes—twice. Dried then put them away, all the while trying not to think about the last time he did this.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!? I'm not yours!"

Didn't Gilbert know, it had nothing to do with them being Germany together. He didn't care just because what hurt Gilbert hurt him. "I've always considered you my older brother…" Ludwig never once forgot that. He did everything for Gilbert with that reason, and Gilbert had no idea just how much Ludwig did. He kept it that way. For the sake of pride and long past glory, Ludwig kept his secrets. And he would continue to keep them.

If he waited any longer, he'd go insane, so Ludwig set about putting Gilbert's portion in the fridge. He left a note pinned to the door so Gilbert would know it was there if he did come home later. Or any time. A late night snack, a gift for the pigeons outside, Ludwig didn't care. He made the food for Gilbert and it would stay for him. Even if it grew moldy in the tupperware container, Ludwig would keep it for his brother.

Not long before 2:00 in the afternoon, Ludwig dropped onto the couch with his laptop and headphones in. He let himself relax as he browsed. His head drifted toward a pillow, but he didn't sleep. He stayed in the pleasant place where he emptied his mind of everything except what crossed over his screen. Like that, three hours of a warm Saturday passed. The leftovers disappeared some time during then.

He and Gilbert settled into a rhythm of never meeting. Ludwig caught signs of his brother all throughout the week, but he never saw him. They never spoke. Ludwig talked—through the door, through notes, or even texts and emails. He felt pathetic calling someone in his own home. He heard the ringing every time, but only two or three beeps before the song cut off. He told himself it didn't hurt. Even if Gilbert deliberately declined his calls where he could hear it. This was Gilbert. He did things like that, not caring about others' opinion because strong people did what they wanted. Gilbert once taught him that, though Ludwig decided the lesson could use a makeover.

"Gilbert, if you've any sanity left in you…I'm going out drinking with your friends. Don't make us worry any more. Please, don't lock yourself away from me…" Ludwig whispered. His fingers curled against the locked door as he leaned his forehead there. Tears wanted to fall despite the lesson Gilbert taught most adamantly of all. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't let himself cry. Ludwig didn't wait for an answer. He could hear breathing near by, almost like that of a sleeping person. He satisfied himself with knowing his brother still lived. Ludwig spun away and grabbed his keys. "Good bye!" he yelled as he slammed the door shut.

Gilbert lay on the floor, curled against the door. His palm pressed where he imagined Ludwig pressed his hand only moments ago. God, why am I turning into this? The one he prayed to never answered though, just like always. He used to think he did, but God didn't listen to countries any more than humans. What a waste of life. Gilbert finally cracked. He found it hard to breathe, but nothing hurt anymore, not even the cold. Somewhere deep inside, he knew the feelings still remained, but a numbness settled over his body and his mind. Even the desire to open his door faded into the darkness. A laugh flitted through his mind but never made it out his mouth. For so long he lived like he had, guarding his mind against this kind of madness. He still fought his future with every synapse left in his brain, but that left no energy for anything else. He needed all of his energy of this. His body fell away as his entire being whittled down to his mind.

Laughter echoed inside him again, this time not his own. It mocked him, weakened him, and gave him strength again. Gilbert slid all the way to the ground without noticing. His eyes stared at the far wall with an unfocused gaze. His fingers relaxed until the corner of his flag slipped out, creased by his finger's constant clenching around it. I used to be strong. He thought he could continue forever like this. Now, he didn't know how long he could hold on, but he still wanted to. He wanted to hold on so badly.

Images flashed through Gilbert's mind, hurried as if they too sensed the coming end. Wide blue child eyes watched him, never blinking. A young soldier saluted in a uniform too wide on the shoulders and too short due to a sudden growth spurt. A maid let out the hem in the morning before Gilbert rode into town, but Ludwig's boot laces showed anyway.

Winter—they found themselves holed up in an abandoned shack. Rifle fire rained outside as they shared the last of the food, but Gilbert pretended he ate already and gave it to Ludwig. When he woke, Ludwig left half of the bread beside him. No words spoken, but Gilbert ate. Once, when Ludwig still stood too small to ride a horse alone and couldn't follow him onto the battlefield, Gilbert fell and got trampled by the armies. He was dragged home on a stretcher and refused to see his brother. On the second day, he found a small body curled against his side, careful of the splintered leg, mangled arm, and bandaged ribs. It was the first time he saw the strength that would come to be in those sky-filled eyes.

Gilbert couldn't stop the memories now. Child laughter. A necklace of flowers a soldier should never wear proudly, but he did anyway. Kissing Ludwig's sword as he pledged to give himself over. Kissing his boo-boos until Ludwig learned to kiss Gilbert's wounds and they never gave kisses again until the Berlin wall came down. Arms, stronger than his own. A man taller than he could ever be and a heart bigger than ever hoped for. Gilbert didn't teach him that, but when that body he used to comfort wrapped around him, he knew he'd give Ludwig anything. And he had. That day, every last thread of separation severed. Ludwig just kissed his forehead and promised everything would be alright. Gilbert didn't know how at the time, but he passed out, so he never heard the rest Ludwig said.

Ludwig, I want you. I want you so bad. Tell me you still need me. I've always needed you since before you were born, since before I could rely on you, but even if I could…I can't. I want you to kiss me again. Can I come to you? Ah…but I can't move. Isn't this just too funny? I finally want to break down the wall and I can't even do it. I want to see you before I die.

No…what am I thinking. Can't die can't die can't diecan'tdiecan'tdie…

I can't die because I want to see you again, my precious little brother.

xXx

"Bonjour, I didn't think you'd take us up on our invitation!" Francis sang from the bar. Ludwig took off his jacket and slid onto a stool next to the shorter man. Antonio sat on Francis' other side and Lars tossed darts with a couple patrons though he looked bored with it. As usual he appeared to invite himself to the party and then not join it.

"I had to get out of the house," Ludwig said with a sigh. He received a pat on the shoulder and a curious look. It's not like he usually went out drinking with this crowd. Or much of ever without his brother.

"Um…" Antonio started. "Is Gilbert really not coming."

Ludwig opened his mouth. He didn't want to start the conversation off heavy. He wanted to talk though, no, he needed to talk. Before he could, Arthur walked in the door. He took one look at Ludwig's face and ordered a shot of whiskey. As an afterthought, he ordered Ludwig a beer. Arthur's eyes bore right into him, saying clearly, 'I'm not bloody hell talking serious without a drink!' Arthur always said things clearer than most with his eyes.

The drinks came. Arthur leaned against the bar and Ludwig found himself drowning in the presence of these people outside of work. "Mathias called to say he and Berwald won't be coming. Lukas might be by later though. I have no idea why he called me and by the name of rocket dog at that," Arthur made a disgusted noise and eyed Lars' back, which Ludwig couldn't understand at all. "Probably thought he was calling someone else. Did anyone even invite the idiot and the tight-ass?"

Francis and Antonio burst into a fit of giggles at Arthur's choice of words. The feeling of drowning increased in Ludwig. Why did he feel so out of place with these people? What were they talking about? "Hey, Ludwig…you don't have to look so serious," Arthur muttered with a hand on his shoulder. Of course the man wore a grumpy face and refused to look anywhere near Ludwig's face. He looked far more interested in the bottom of his empty glass despite his almost comforting gesture.

"I'm…I'm afraid it is serious…"

Francis choked on his drink and clapped his hand over Ludwig's back instead of his own. "O-oi! You're too young to talk like this! Shall big brother listen to your problems?" he tried to smile, but still sounded too choked. He traded a look with Antonio. Ludwig wondered if they had the same worries as he did, but he felt these friends knew more than he. If Gilbert wouldn't talk to his brother, then he would just have to get his information elsewhere.

Ludwig huffed and shrugged off Francis' arm. "I'm hardly young." No one but Gilbert and Feliciano felt right touching him so familiarly. Kiku tried and Roderick too. Ludwig let them be, but they couldn't comfort him. Gilbert was his older brother and Feli might as well have been his younger. He occupied that kind of space in Ludwig's mind. "I'm just worried about Gilbert. I thought at least, he would come drinking if it was with you people."

"With…us?" Francis asked. He and Antonio traded looks. Ludwig looked over to Arthur for help interpreting those two, but the small Brit had challenged Lars to a drinking contest and wouldn't be of much use for the rest of the night. Francis sighed, bringing him back to the conversation. "Didn't you know, he hasn't properly drank with us since before the second war. Things were too tense then and once we made up, he stopped drinking."

Ludwig's eyes widened. "But he goes out all the time, or he did anyway. Damn it, I have no idea what's going on in his head!" Had Gilbert really lied to him for this long? The revelation put things in perspective all over again and he'd had enough of his world shifting this past week. Ludwig ran his hand over his face. His own beer looked less appetizing. He was tired, both physically and mentally, and his shirt collar itched, and he hated the idea of being alone, but the person he most wanted to be with wasn't here. He glanced back up at his brother's friends helplessly. A second later, Francis went into detail.

"He orders a beer, drinks a little, then pretends to get drunk. Or doesn't pretend. Either way, it's like the same as when we hung out before except he doesn't drink. He said he lost his taste for it and I don't even know what that means," Francis scoffed. "He used to drink us under the table every time! That man loves his beer like h-he…like he loves you…" the Frenchman whispered.

Antonio moved to Ludwig's other side and the three sat close, far closer than polite conversation dictated. They ordered new drinks and a snack, which all got pushed in front of Ludwig. He still reeled too much to comment. Antonio sat the closest so that their shoulders bumped together. His smile shone with the usual sunshine, but softer on the edges where it usually blinded. "Well, we invited you for a reason. You're not the only one worried about him."

"…Thank you," Ludwig whispered. They cared so he let the last of his hesitation go before the three put their heads together and talked. Each spilled their stories and worries, getting wrapped up in the mystery that was Gilbert. This was them figuring him out, comparing notes. And venting, because Ludwig so badly needed to vent.

"He used to call me West like it was my only name, but now that we're properly 'east' and 'west', he won't say it at all. Does he think he doesn't belong with me anymore?"

The other two tsked and rubbed Ludwig's back in sympathy. Francis poured him a shot from the bottle they'd absconded from the bartender. "At least he calls you something. We're like leftover cheese gone sour!"

Ludwig shook his head, drank the shot in one gulp, then slammed the glass back down. "Even though I make him meals, he only eats when I'm not around! How do I know if he's even eating it?"

"Right? Lovi used to do things like that and I took away his door!" Antonio cried with an emphatic nod of his head. An array of alcohol already filled them so the conversation turned passionate. Francis waved his glass dangerously close to Ludwig's chest.

"I don't know how you deal with it. This 'big brother' crap is totally tiring!"

Ludwig huffed at him. "But you're the one who makes us call you that! If you want the truth though, I think you make a great big brother. Better than me. I mean…I'm bigger if not older." Logic, glorious logic. "Even if I wanted to, I can't break down this wall between us. Not when Brother put it up. H-he said he never wanted to see me again!" His voice wavered at the end. God, he had too much to drink because he didn't even care. Ludwig buried his face in his hands.

"Awww." Antonio threw his arms around the bigger man. "You and Gilbo are the cutest pair of brothers ever! Almost as cute as Lovi!" He slobbered on Ludwig's sleeve before getting tossed him off with more energy than necessary. Antonio wavered on his stool and only just managed to straighten himself before falling off. He reached for his drink and found it empty. The glass slammed back down as Antonio shot to his feet. "That's it! We're going to drag Gilbert out of the closet right now! Who's with me!?" he shouted with his fist raised to the air.

"…He's not in a closet," Francis muttered. He lurched to his feet though and raised a fist. Both stared down at Ludwig. "We'll steal your keys if you don't let us in."

Very slowly, Ludwig pulled himself to his feet. He needed to tell them no somehow, but Ludwig liked the idea of having support. He understood the trouble lay with him though. He was the genesis, everyone else were byproducts of a fight he had no idea he'd been engaged in until a week ago.

Before he could say anything, Antonio's wild, bouncing movements finally caught up with him. In an instant, his body froze. "Gonna puke!" he groaned then darted to the bathroom. Once he finished emptying his stomach, he found the other two hovering outside the door. Antonio clutched at his middle, not quite able to stand straight. Francis wrapped one arm around his waist, letting Antonio cling and bury his face in his hair.

"Sorry about this, but I think I should take him home." Francis smiled sheepishly before he shifted Antonio enough to free his arms. He dropped hands onto Ludwig's shoulders with a solemn face. "I'm sorry, but you have to do this alone. Remember, you carry our spirits with you, here," he said with a hand to his heart. The romantic gesture contrasted with the deep and serious tone. "Farewell and good luck, little l'Allemagne."

xXx

Ludwig set his keys on the counter and glanced around the house. A sick feeling buzzed through him, but he chalked it up to drunkenness. He had his fair share even if he wasn't puking right now. The first thing Ludwig did was open the fridge. This became habit as he checked if Gilbert ate. Worn out eyes glanced over the shelf and he almost closed the door again without paying attention. Something caught his attention though and he blinked. There in the usual spot sat an untouched food container. He always eats when I leave…

The sick feeling slid its way through Ludwig's stomach again. Bile rose in his throat and he knew beer had nothing to do with it. He slammed the fridge door closed and ran for Gilbert's room. "Brother! Brother are you alright? You're hurting so please open this door. Gilbert…" He pleaded with his brother's name, so rarely used by him. "By God, I will break down this door if you don't let me in!"

He heard breathing, but it sounded all wrong. Everything felt wrong inside him in a way that Germany's affairs did, but not as harsh, as if another shared the burden more than he. Gilbert hurt himself enough for Ludwig to feel and all he could think was how did Gilbert feel? "Damn it!" Ludwig stopped pounding and wrenched the door hard enough that the lock mechanism snapped.

"Bro-" The call died in his throat as he found the man curled under a dingy cloth nearly a solid shade of grey. Ludwig dropped to his knees next to him. "Gilbert? Please don't be…" He brushed hair out of his brother's face and caught sight of the flushed red skin and closed eyes. Everywhere felt warm to the touch, but alive. Better warm than cold. Ludwig pressed their foreheads together once more. "You really do have a fever…"

Hands grasped at Ludwig's arm. He pulled away with a start to see Gilbert's eyelids flutter. Despite the fever in his eyes, they focused right on Ludwig's face. He never saw so much emotion in those ruby depths before. A faint smile crossed Gilbert's face. "Brother…I wanted to see you before I died," he whispered.

Panic fluttered through Ludwig. He tightened his grip on Gilbert's body that acted like it wanted to melt away through his fingers. As if he could let that happen. "Die? You're not going to die!" What nonsense did he think this was?

"Don't offer me stupid platitudes!" Gilbert snapped, knocking Ludwig back with the pure hatred in his tone. Sorrow flooded Gilbert's face a second after as his brows furrowed and he drew blood from his lip. The eyes that looked down at himself mocked. "I've been dying since you first dissolved my kingdom. This has been a long time coming."

"No!" The intensity of the one word hit them both. Ludwig forced Gilbert to look at him again. His hands framed the other's as if to say I'm never letting go, but Gilbert's blank stare said he didn't understand. Ludwig sighed and hauled his brother up until they sat facing each other with Ludwig still framing his face. "You think it's in your power whether you live or die?"

Gilbert nodded without a word. "I…I've been fighting for so long." His voice croaked like an old forgotten violin, never tuned. Sickness and lack of use did him no good. Gilbert should be the general whose voice carried across entire fields, or the irritating brother who yelled to whoever Ludwig talked with on the phone. He shook his head.

"Then don't." Gilbert's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't. Ludwig continued without waiting. "Why does it have to be you? Whether you live or die…it's never been your choice. The reason you live now is my fault. Mine and mine alone. Don't you understand?" He rubbed a hand over Gilbert's sweaty back. The man shivered no matter how Ludwig tried to comfort him. He wrapped the blanket around Gilbert's shoulders and was just about to tuck it under his chin when he noticed the edge of eagle wings. A smile tugged at Ludwig's lips. The gesture didn't escape him. He understood Gilbert now and what he did all these years. Just thinking about the strain he put himself under and how Ludwig let it happen hurt the most. For a reason like this? Gilbert didn't need to try so hard anymore. He never did.

"There will always be a place for you, brother. With me. You can't cease to exist because I believe in Prussia still. I will never let you go, no matter what. I refuse to let us merge." Tears streaked down Gilbert's face. A great sigh lifted out of him, leaving him shaking and gasping in Ludwig's arms. He held him tight and Gilbert clung back with as much force. "Shhh…you can relax now. You don't need to fight so just take my hand. I love you Gilbert, okay? From here on out, little brother will do the hard work. I'll never let you fall again."

Gilbert nodded his head and fell into his brother's arms. He kissed his hand just like he kissed his sword so many years ago. "I'm so glad it's you. Only you, West…only you would fight my battles…"

A half smile answered him. "You're the one that taught me to be like this."