Gilbert really did love him.
Gilbert Beilschmidt loved Matthew Williams more than anyone else.
Gilbert Beilschmidt wanted nothing more than to see Matthew Williams happy.
And it killed him to see him in this state.
Matthew Williams was a heart broken mess. Matthew Williams had to watch his brother die before him. Matthew Williams had to cope with the death of his last family member. Matthew Williams couldn't handle being alone. Matthew Williams cried himself to sleep at night. Matthew Williams was so afraid of being alone he went into hysteria daily.
And it tore him up inside.
Gilbert wanted to help, he did. He wanted to be there for him, he wanted to hold him tight, and tell him it was going to be all right. But he couldn't. Matthew wouldn't accept sympathy, from anyone or anything. He was too scared, too afraid to let another person inside of his heart. His heart was shattered, gone, and Gilbert wanted nothing more than to pick them up and put them all back together. He didn't care about getting cut or scrapped; he just wanted the pieces to be whole again.
Matthew still wouldn't have it.
But persistent Gilbert was. He tried everything. He tried talking it out with him, he tried taking him to places, he tried getting Francis and Arthur to talk to him, but nothing succeeded. Nothing could mend what had been torn. He tried giving gifts, he tried yelling at him, he tried just holding him, but still, nothing proved victorious.
So it was then he tried showing him things of remembrance.
Gilbert tried showing him that Alfred wouldn't want him to cry, he tried showing him all of the things that Alfred had given him when his little brother cried. He showed toys, books, gifts, cards, any and everything that had been from his hands to Matthew's. But that only made the tears spill more. It evoked too many memories, too many warm scenes that overflowed his mind.
Gilbert soon realized he was losing his hold on reality.
Matthew began to forget things, sorrow eating away at his heart, as well as mind and sense of will. Soon, he began to say the dreaded words. The words he commonly hated.
Who?
There were nights when he would speak nothing but French nonsense, words Gilbert couldn't understand. There were nights where he would curl up in his room, refusing to speak a sound. There were nights where Gilbert feared he was finally gone. There were nights where Gilbert cried himself because he was so terrified of losing the one and only Matthew Williams.
Gilbert loved Matthew.
Matthew didn't notice.
Matthew didn't care.
All Matthew wanted was his brother back.
He just couldn't have that.
It was one, hot summer night when Gilbert came to see him. Matthew was on the couch, curled up and looking miserable as always these days. His eyes were puffy, his face sullen and hollow. He held something close to his chest, his fingers grasping the material tightly, afraid to let go. Gilbert soon realized what it was.
It was an American flag.
Matthew didn't seem to notice Gilbert's presence as always. It was normal. He was used to being ignored. It didn't bother him anymore. As long as he could see the boy alive, that was good enough for him.
It always would be.
Gilbert sat next to him, and for once he felt violet eyes shift to him. He hadn't done that in a long time, he noticed. He gazed back at him, and the violet eyes only stared. Neither of them spoke, before Matthew clenched the fabric tighter.
Gilbert waited for him to cry again.
He did.
But this time he was ready for it. Gilbert kept a simple, expressionless face, taking him into his arms, and stroking his hair, and trying to cover his eyes. He felt tears begin to soak his shirt, but he'd grown used to that too. He just let the boy sob, happy to hear sounds of being alive, and breathing.
Gilbert Beilschmidt loved Matthew Williams more than anyone in the entire world.
He just hoped one day Matthew Williams would care.
Soo...I wrote this a long time ago. I just felt like I should put it here because there is never enough PruCan ;w;
Anyways, hope it sounds good!
Read and Review~?
-IchigoMelon