Authors' Note: This is the very first collab of Kenny's SpaceCadet and Pineapplecat! Woot! In the first draft Germany was written by KSC and Prussia was written by PC but…we both edited it extensively so… Anyway, we hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: we don't own anything

Gilbert had woken up that morning to a note on the kitchen counter.

It was Saturday. His favorite day of the week. Why? Because West always made his special wurst for breakfast on Saturdays. Well, except for last Saturday but…

'Bruder- went to see Feliciano. He needs help tying his shoes again. I will probably be gone the rest of the day, given how persuasive he is…Here are some errands you can do today. First…'

"Errands?" Gilbert read aloud, scowling. "Groceries...? Dishes...? Blah, blah blah!" He tossed the note down on the counter, irritated that his brother had skipped out on special wurst again. "This is what happened last Saturday!" Gilbert growled. "He's always ditching me to hang with Feli..." With that, he stomped down to the basement, muttering to himself about stupid brothers and a need to watch porn.

Meanwhile, Ludwig was having a horrible day. After he'd tied Feliciano's shoes, the stupid Italian had gone and tripped over nothing and scratched his arm, so he'd started whining and trying to get Germany to stay with him. "No, I have to go home to Bruder," Germany said, trying to detach the little idiot from where he'd latched onto his arm for the millionth time. "It's special wurst Saturday." However, it took him a good hour to escape his persistent ally and get on the road home. Then he'd run into traffic on the way back, his car had run out of gas, and the day had been surprisingly cold and—of course—Germany had left his gloves at home. So, when Ludwig arrived home, later and colder than he'd expected, the sink full of dirty dishes and the empty refrigerator caused Germany's frustration to peak. "GILBERT BEILSCHMIDT. WHERE ARE YOU?" he yelled, scanning his surroundings furiously.

"Craaaawling in my skiiiin... these wounds they will not heeeeaaaal..." Gilbert tapped his foot to the beat of the music blaring from his head phones, nodding as Linkin Park drowned out all background noise. "Oh Linkin Park...how do you sing what's written deep inside of my soul?" he murmured as he continued to turn the pages of his new XXX magazine. (And by new, this means that Gilbert had just stolen it from Ludwig's room, so he'd never read it before.) "Ah, now there's a looker," he muttered appreciatively, dog-earing the page to return to later.

When Ludwig didn't receive a response, he stomped down the stairs to his brother's basement bedroom. "That little shit!" Ludwig said, sounding more like the older brother than the younger. He found Gilbert listening to music, masturbating in rhythm with the song blaring from his headphones. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Ludwig yelled, ripping the earphones from Gilbert's ears. "Why are you reading my magazines? Why didn't you do the chores I asked you to do?"

"West!" Gilbert responded angrily, irritated at the sudden sounds entering his ears as his headphones were painfully ripped away. He buttoned his pants up, not very horny anymore. "Take a chill pill will you? Which long, pointy object is stuck up your ass this time?"

Ludwig had had a hard day. Ludwig was pissed off. Ludwig wasn't in the mood to take any cheek from his stupid older brother. "Go do the dishes! Right now!"

"What if I don't want to!" Gilbert yelled back. His brother hadn't even bothered to ask him for the favor in person...he had just left that stupid note. How could Ludwig have possibly expected him to do all those chores? Especially when Gilbert didn't have any of Saturday's special wurst powers?

"You live in my house! In my basement! For free! So you will do them whether you want to or not!" Ludwig responded angrily. Gilbert stood up now to come face to face with his brother.

"Excuse me?" Gilbert snapped. "I live in your house? Whose house did you use to live in? Who took care of you? Do you remember, West? Or have you just conveniently forgotten that I MADE YOU?"

"Yeah, and I was grateful for it! I did my chores! I helped you when you got hurt and I cooked and I cleaned and I put up with all of your shit for years! Guess nothing has changed!" Ludwig was really angry now. "But fine! If you're so perfect you can sit around and watch porn and I'LL go do EVERYTHING by myself! I'd do it better than you would anyways," Ludwig added snidely.

"Yeah, because you always do everything better than me..." Gilbert growled, rolling his eyes. "Perfect, precious, pious Ludwig! Now, can you kindly get the fuck out of my room?"

"You mean my room, which I let you live in," Ludwig said frostily before leaving Gilbert alone.

"WELL, FUCK YOU TOO!" Gilbert yelled as he slammed the door on Ludwig's ass. He raged over to his desk, rooting through papers and naughty magazines before locating his cell phone. He quickly pressed the speed dial and held it to his ear, hearing the ringing as he paced in an angry circle around his room.

"Francis? Hey. Wanna get shit-faced tonight?"

"Do I ever!" Francis responded with glee.

A half an hour later, Ludwig had finished the dishes and was about to go get the groceries. "BRUDER! I'm going out to get those groceries that you didn't get! I'll be back in an hour!"

"FUCK YOU!" Gilbert screamed from within his room before turning back to his phone. "As I was saying, Francis...you should bring Antonio over, and bring lots of alcohol...yes, tell him he can bring Romano..."

"I'll get him on the phone," Francis responded, adding Spain to a three-way phone conversation. "Antonio! Hey! Gilbert wants to throw an alcoholic party at his place tonight, are you and Romano in?"

"Are you sure we can have alcohol there?" Spain asked. "Ludwig gets kinda mad whenever Gilbert throws a party… not that I don't want to or anything. But Gilbert, don't you think you should try respecting your brother a little more? And maybe we should not bring alcohol this time?"

"Shut up, Bastardo!" both Francis and Gilbert heard from the background. "If I'm going to tolerate you, pervy France, and that stupid potato bastard's brother at the stupid potato house for a party, I'm going to at least need some wine for fuck's sake!"

"Is that Romano?" Francis asked. "Hello sweetie! I'll be sure to bring some wonderful wine for you! Oh, and Gilbert my dear, may I bring some beautiful French ladies? Or men, if you want Gilbert?"

"Fuck if I care... I just want to get wasted..." Gilbert grumbled.

"You know, it might be better for you to talk to querido Ludwig about your problems instead of drinking yourself to oblivion," Spain said.

"Stop being such a party pooper, tomato bastard! I want some fucking alcohol!"

France chortled on the line, declaring, "Antonio, Ludwig loves getting wasted! He'll welcome the opportunity. I'll bring some nice German beer too, how about that Gilbo?"

"That sounds great...thanks guys..." If there was one good thing about having friends—especially with ones as bad as these—it was the free alcohol.

An hour later, Ludwig pulled into the driveway with a car full of groceries, hoping that Gilbert would at least help him carry the stuff in. "So many potatoes," Ludwig muttered as he unlocked the front door of the house, carrying one of his ten grocery bags. He stopped dead in his tracks when he walked inside.

"Ooooh...fuck guys...West's home...shiiiit..." Gilbert moaned.

"Fucking potato bastard!" Romano yelled, slurring and falling all over Antonio. Antonio looked dazed, and France was moving up behind Romano to try to cop a feel. As soon as they realized that Germany had returned, all three of Gilbert's guests gasped and fell over themselves trying to leave.

"So sorry! Desole!" Francis squeaked as he squeezed past Ludwig to get out the front door. He had never quite gotten over his fear of Germany. Romano followed, rudely pushing Ludwig aside, muttering something derogatory about potatoes while dragging a confused and dazed Antonio along behind him. It seems that the three of them did not want to deal with the aftermath of their fun.

"What. The. Fuck." Ludwig's jaw would not close. The coffee table was tipped over; beer cans and wine bottles were littering the floor; the TV was on its side, playing a porno; and in the middle of the disaster was Gilbert Beilschmidt, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a half full bottle of rum. "Gilbert?" Ludwig asked, his teeth gritting together angrily. "What happened? Why were they here?"

"N-n-nothing, West... nothing...I swear!" Gilbert slurred. "Do..do...you want something to driiiink? Francis brought some pretty nice booze...ha ha ha!"

"Why did France bring you booze? I could kill that guy!" Ludwig breathed and counted to ten. "You and your stupid friends ruined my living room, Gilbert!"

"Nah... it's fine West..." Gilbert giggled. "Why don't you let loose for once? I know you're stressed because Feli won't give you any... and besides, they all brought booze, not just Francis!"

"IT IS NOT FINE," Ludwig roared, starting to get extremely angry. "This isn't about Italy and me, or Francis, or anyone else even! It's about you! It's about your irresponsible behavior, your inability to care about anyone but yourself, and your stupidity! I have had it! You are leaving!"

"WHAT? West...what...are you talking 'bout...? You...you can't...can't kick me in, er, out!" Gilbert gasped. "It's winter time and I think I might be kinda drunk and... you're such a stupid jerk! Y-you don't really care about me! I'm just a burden to you aren't I? Another thing for you to deal with! WELL SORRY!" He screeched, his fully inebriated state fueling his anger. He tried to walk over to Ludwig but fell over.

"SHUT UP!" Ludwig yelled, uncaring of Gilbert's fallen state. "You're drunk! You can stay the rest of the night, but I want you gone by the time I wake up tomorrow, hangover or not! If you're still here," Ludwig pulled in a shaky breath of air, "I will not hesitate to take military action." There. He'd said it. Gilbert would finally learn to take responsibility for his actions now; he'd apologize, clean up his mess, and they'd live happily ever after. Ludwig, of course, had been counting on Gilbert to be rational, which was never a good idea when Prussia was drunk… or sober…

"YOU'D WHAT?" Gilbert screamed. "Really, West! You'd take military action on your own brother? Well fine, I know when I'm not wanted. I'm leaving - now!" He got up, shaky at first but was able to finally stomp angrily (or rather, dizzily) to the door. "I wish Vati wouldn't have stopped me when I tried to sell you into slavery!" Gilbert yelled, grabbing the first coat he laid hands on and slamming the door behind him. It wasn't like he'd ever tried to do that to Ludwig, but logic and fact were escaping the former nation at the moment.

"You... you tried to sell me into slavery?" Ludwig said to thin air once his brother was out of the room. "I guess I didn't know you very well at all." He sighed, looking around at the mess. "I hope he's alright, that jerk. He'll come around in a couple minutes, begging for forgiveness… predictable…"

But this time, Gilbert didn't return. Instead, a couple hours later, Gilbert found himself wandering half-drunkenly around in the snow. The alcohol's effects had mostly worn off and he was becoming more and more aware of how cold it was. The coat he had grabbed – one of Ludwig's old uniform jackets– was warm, but not infallible. Gilbert shuddered as his boots sloshed through the heavy blanket of snow. Where was he? Dark trees loomed around him, making him feel... small. Why couldn't he recognize his surroundings? In his angry and drunken state he had totally lost his sense of direction. Not that he had really any place to go if he did know where he was...

Gilbert sighed loudly as snow continued to fall around him. He was so cold and lost, there was so much snow… it reminded him of...

No.

Not that… not that memory again…

"Ah, you are finally becoming one with me, da?" a cold, dark voice said. "You lost big this time, dearest Prussia. Do not fear, for the Motherland will not abandon you when the rest of the world hates you for your crimes."

"Leave me alone!" Gilbert yelled fruitlessly as he was pushed up against a cold, brick wall. "I don't belong to you!" It was bad enough being dissolved by his own people, but how could they just give him to… to… him of all people… All Gilbert wanted was to return to West, who was mere feet from where he was standing. Why did he have to be trapped here now, when his brother needed him most? Gilbert tried to move away from his captor, only to be hindered by a pain in his side. Wounds from the war… who knows when those would heal... Biting his lip in pain, Gilbert clutched the poorly bandaged bullet wound, feeling a warm, sticky substance seep into his gloves.

"You think you can escape so easily? You think anyone wants you?" Strong, cruel hands smashed him against the wall, careful to apply harsh pressure to a still-open wound on his shoulder. Lips crinkled into a sadistic smirk, inching closer and closer to his ear, whispering, "You are a hateful being, a hateful nation. Your people are happy you are being dissolved. Your people are happy that you belong to me." He felt fingers snare in his hair, yanking him roughly upwards. A tongue licked slowly over a fresh cut on his cheek. A flick of the knife and another appeared. "Your brother is the happiest of all. Happy to be without you. Happy to give you away so he doesn't have to deal with you."Gilbert tried to turn, tried to climb away… slap. He bit his lip and tasted blood, unable to stop quaking in a mixture of rage, pain and fear as the other's face drew near his own and a hand curled around his throat. "No one loves you. You have no one left…no one but me…" There was no escape.

And then, Gilbert felt a new pain, this time not physical. It was the breaking of his heart. His fingers clutched for purchase on the cold stone as his nationality was dissolved and done away with.

"West!" Gilbert cried, falling to his knees in the snow. His heart was beating so fast. He looked around frantically. Where was he...? What had just happened? He didn't want to be cold anymore. He didn't want to be alone anymore. "West..." he cried, holding his head in his hands.

"You can't escape me. You'll never cross that wall again, Gilbert! Come back to me, you are a useless void to everyone else, kolkolkolkol." That man's voice sounded so real... it was as if he was there in the forest, creeping in the shadows, just waiting to drag Gilbert back to the place he hated most. "West...West! Please! Save me!" Gilbert began to sob, shaking back and forth violently, on his knees, lost, half-drunk, overcome with emotions, and alone.

Ludwig, meanwhile, was growing worried. Gilbert had not returned as Ludwig had expected him to. "I wasn't really going to make him leave," Ludwig said to himself sadly. "I figured the threat would be enough to make him change…" Ludwig decided he needed to go see if he could find his brother. But upon leaving the house, finding Gilbert proved difficult. He wasn't at the grocery store; wasn't at his favorite bar. "Did that bastard go to buy porn?" Ludwig muttered angrily as he trudged through the park near his house.

Then, Ludwig's boot hit something protruding from the snow, causing Ludwig to stop underneath the swing set. Ludwig gasped as he recognized a familiar, silver object under his foot. An iron cross. Gilbert's necklace… then Ludwig noticed footprints in the snow leading to the forest behind the park from where he was. They were definitely Gilbert's size… "That idiot!" Ludwig said, understanding instantly what was happening. "That idiot!" Ludwig repeated, holding the iron cross to his chest like a lifeline. "He's going to get himself killed!" Ludwig followed the footprints as quickly as he could, realizing that the snow was going to cover them up soon.

"No one will ever love you...no one will ever care about you... They never have..."

Gilbert shuddered as the cruel snarl echoed in his ears. "Y-you're wrong... Ludwig...he...cares about me..." Gilbert whispered, a sense of déjà vu coming over him as he said those words... the same words he had said as he was pushed against the unforgiving wall. His words felt emptier now as they fell hollowly upon the uncaring snow. He wasn't so sure anymore that they were the truth.

There was no answer but the cold, bitter laugh echoing through the trees. That laugh. The one that haunted Gilbert nightmares; the one that woke him up at night.

"Shut up! Stop laughing! West! Please! West! West!" he cried over and over, barely registering that he was starting to hyperventilate. His breaths became shorter and shorter. "Wes-wes-we-w-w..." he barely choked out through his tears and heavy gasps.

Ludwig heard a voice coming from his right as he walked through the trees. It was a familiar voice. "GILBERT!" he yelled. "Gilbert, where are you?"

"West!" Gilbert cried weakly, hearing his dearest brother somewhere from his left. Gilbert was still fighting for air. It was like a terrible dream; Gilbert could not talk loud enough to get Ludwig's attention, and Ludwig was going to pass him by. "...help me...please..." Gilbert whispered.

Gilbert needn't have worried, however. Ludwig would not have missed that voice for a second, and he immediately ran towards the sound, finding his brother hyperventilating on the snowy ground. "Gilbert!" Ludwig said breathlessly, immediately dropping to his knees next to his brother and putting his arm around his shoulder. "Gilbert, I'm so glad I found you!"

"W-w-w...West!" Gilbert gasped out, grabbing numbly at his brothers jacketed chest. "Please...don't let him...don't let him..." he cried. "Please don't let him..."

"Let who?" Ludwig said angrily, wrapping Gilbert up in a warm embrace. "Whoever he is, I would never let him hurt you!"

"Make him stop laughing at me!" Gilbert sobbed into his brother's chest. "Please! I can't take it anymore! I don't care if what he says is true! I just... I can't... Please... no... stop...please..."

"Gilbert, tell me what you mean! Who did this to you?" Ludwig pleaded, staring at his brother with concern. Gilbert's eyes were dilated well beyond the normal size and his was shaking uncontrollably. Something was scaring him beyond words. What the hell is going on in his mind? I wish I could fix it!

"Him!" Gilbert cried. "He separated us, and I keep telling him he's wrong...that you care...but he doesn't listen! He just keeps laughing, and laughing, and laughing... make it stop! Please West...Ludwig… I don't want to be cold anymore..."

A coldness completely unrelated to the temperature rushed through Ludwig's veins as he realized Gilbert was having a traumatic flashback. It shouldn't have taken me so long to figure it out… "He is wrong," Ludwig said ferociously. "Gilbert! That bastard paid for what he did and we cut him down to size because he was wrong!"

"No!" Gilbert sobbed louder. "He's telling me the truth..." Gilbert let out another shuddering sob.

Ludwig's motions stilled as he took in this new information. He'd never known that those words had been said; if he'd known, he'd never have guessed Gilbert actually believed them. "Is that... is that what he told you, Bruder? That no one cares? That I don't care?"

"Yes..." Gilbert whimpered. "All the time..."

Ludwig wrapped his other arm around his brother, uncomfortable with Gilbert's range of emotions. "Gilbert, that's not true, you know this," Ludwig whispered. "I care about you, Bruder!"

Gilbert continued like he hadn't heard his brother. "Please make him stop...Bruderlein...please…I can't…"

Ludwig helped Gilbert to his feet. "C'mon, Bruder, it's too cold to be out here," Ludwig murmured into his brother's ear. "Let's go get you warmed up in OUR house."

"O-o-kay..." Gilbert sighed, gripping Ludwig's arm as he stumbled a bit in the snow. Ludwig caught him easily, steadying him with a lightly shaking hand. When had his brother become so fragile?

Ludwig guided his older brother out of the forest, through the park, down the street, and back into their house. "C'mon Bruder, let's get you in a warm shower," Ludwig said, helping Gilbert to the bathroom.

"I don't want to be cold anymore..." Gilbert mumbled again, seemingly unaware of what was happening around him.

"You don't need to be cold anymore," Ludwig said gently, platonically helping his brother undress and positioning him under the warm spray of the shower. "It's alright Bruder," Ludwig said. "It's alright... it's okay to feel bad about that time..." He grew even more concerned as he watched his brother give up on standing, sinking into a sitting position on the shower floor instead.

"I'm sorry..." Gilbert mumbled, barely audible over the sound of the spray. "I should have been there for you then... I should have climbed that wall...I...I'm a terrible brother..."

Ludwig kneeled outside of the basin, rubbing Gilbert's shoulder. "Bruder, neither of us had any control over that wall. Don't beat yourself up... you are not terrible..."

Gilbert just sobbed. He had had too much alcohol to control the savage emotions that were running through him. "B-b-bruder!" he cried. "I don't want to be cold anymore!"

Ludwig was unsure how to fix the problem. "Gilbert, how can I make you warm? Do you want to go to bed? Get under the covers?" Ludwig asked, genuinely trying to understand. What was frightening, however, was his sneaking suspicion that his brother was not merely speaking about the temperature anymore…

Ludwig was met with silence for several minutes. "If I go to bed, will you kick me out in the morning?" Gilbert finally mumbled.

"No," Ludwig replied in earnest. "Gilbert, I'll never make you leave, no matter how mad you make me. Ich liebe dich. I was lying earlier, I was just trying to get you to say you were sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you so bad," Ludwig whispered brokenly.

"...I'm sorry I ruined your living room..."

"It's okay," Ludwig said, helping Gilbert out of the shower while wrapping a large, fluffy towel around him. His brother was hardly responsive to what was going on and was instead looking warily around the room, as if trying to locate something – or someone – that wasn't there. Slowly, Ludwig took Gilbert's hands in his own and gently led him to his basement bedroom. Once they had arrived, Gilbert mechanically changed into his pajamas.

"I'm sorry," Gilbert whispered again.

"You can clean the mess up in the morning, it's really okay." All be damned if Ludwig didn't at least try to get his brother to clean all that crap up! "Well, good night," Ludwig said, suddenly feeling awkward as Gilbert got himself in his bed.

"...Luddie...?" Gilbert suddenly whispered.

"Yes?"

"Will...you...uh, will you uh... Stay with me...?" Gilbert mumbled, embarrassed. The horrible laughter had ceased, but Gilbert knew it would return if he was alone. "You know...at least until I fall asleep?"

Ludwig blushed. "Uh, Bruder, w-why would you want me to, uh, stay with you?" Germany asked, stuttering. Intimacy had never been one of his strong suits, and Gilbert wasn't the most touchy-feely of people either. This whole situation was disturbing him greatly – Ludwig had no idea how to handle a completely broken Gilbert. Gilbert was normally so happy and carefree; who would have guessed these emotions were bottled up inside of him?

"Please, West..." Gilbert whispered, his heart wrenching from the perceived rejection. "I-I-I don't want to be alone..." He tried to repress the urge to cling to his brother once again, but his arms started to reach towards Ludwig without Gilbert's consent. Prussia pulled them back quickly, not wanting to burden his brother.

Ludwig, however, grasped Gilbert's arms and brought them around himself. "Bruder," Ludwig started, "I am part of the reason you feel like this... are you sure you want me here?"

"West...you're the only one who can make me feel better... you're my brother," Gilbert whispered. "I don't know what happened to me out there, or why I can't stop crying," he said with a hiccupping laugh. "But please, West... don't leave me alone."

Ludwig climbed onto the bed next to his brother, uncertain how this was going to help. "Okay, Bruder, I will stay with you if that is what you want," Ludwig whispered.

Gilbert responded by wrapping his arms around Ludwig, burying his face in his brother's chest. He tried to quell his violent shaking, but it was impossible to still his trembling form.

Ludwig wrapped his arms around Gilbert to calm him down. "Shh, I am here Gilbert," Ludwig assured. "I care about you so much. Ich liebe dich, Bruder."

"I-Ich liebe dich a-auch, Bruder..." Gilbert responded back.

Ludwig rubbed soothing circles on his brother's back.

"...Bruder...?"

"…Yes...?

"...thank you..."

"Don't thank me," Ludwig responded. "This brother thing is a thankless job."

Gilbert grinned.

The next morning, Ludwig woke up from sunlight hitting his face from the tiny window in the top corner of Prussia's room, the only window in the basement. He groaned and twisted, trying to get comfortable in the significantly less comfortable bed which was Gilbert's.

He sat up ramrod straight a minute later, however, when he realized that Gilbert wasn't there. "Gilbert!" Germany said, suddenly worried. Had he run off again during the night? Is he stuck in the bathroom, paralyzed with fear? Oh no…

Ludwig bounded up the stairs, but he felt his panic leave him at the sight he was met with upon entering the living room.

Gilbert. With a garbage bag and a duster. Cleaning up the mess he had made. "Gilbert, what are you doing?" Ludwig asked, genuinely confused. Gilbert had never cleaned of his own volition before… ever.

Gilbert blushed and stared at the ground. "You helped me last night, Bruderlein… and I fucked everything up. So I thought this was the least I could do." Prussia picked up a beer can and threw it in the bag.

Ludwig grinned. "Thank you, Bruder," he said softly, before fishing around in his pocket for something. He hadn't bothered to change into pajamas the night before. "Ja, Bruder, this belongs to you," he said, holding out the iron cross. Tentatively, he reached his arms behind Gilbert to clasp it around his neck.

"Please remember, Bruder…" he said. "I'll always be there for you."

The End

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