The walls were white. Stark in comparison to the creme colored floors, cold and bleak in their discoloration. That was the first thing Ludwig noticed. A quiet beeping echoed through the room, steady and persistent. Beep. Beep. Beep. It was unnerving to say the least, Ludwig's heartbeat soon matching it in pace, ringing in his own ears, loud and daunting. He was in a bed, and it wasn't his own. That was the second realization he had. He sat up slowly, blue eyes hazed as they tried to focus. Something wasn't right. Something felt… off. Fingers lifted to his face, just to bump into something foreign, strange and hard, made of cool plastic. An oxygen mask? Every second had the blonde more and more confused, growing more anxious as things began to click into place. He was in a hospital. Glancing over, the monitors hooked to him, emitting that low beeping was more than enough confirmation of that. But he couldn't remember… why was he here? The last thing he remembered was… Gilbert.
They'd had a fight, he remembered that much. Ludwig had been so incredibly angry at the elder, although looking back now, it was nothing more than childish jealousy. Gilbert had been going out almost every night with Francis and Antonio, getting so drunk that by the time he arrived home, it was all the twenty year old could do to hold his elder brother upright. It hadn't even been the amount the other had drank that had angered Ludwig. No, it was that, once more, he'd been left behind. Gilbert had been so distant, for weeks before that. He didn't ruffle the younger's hair anymore. He didn't try to be overly affectionate as he always had, and it left Ludwig wondering what he had done wrong to suddenly no longer been worth brother's attention. And so he'd begun to yell, and Gilbert left. That was all he remembered.
How then had he ended up in this bed? Surely any moment, bruder would come through that door and tell him what was going on right? Maybe he'd just fallen doing housework, and bumped his head! Slowly, the door creaked open, but it wasn't Gilbert who came through it. Instead, there stood Francis and Antonio, murmuring quietly to one another before noticing the blonde sitting up in bed. "...You're awake? Dios, Francis, he's awake. Go get the nurse!" Antonio ordered firmly, before moving to sit in the chair beside the blonde. "Hey querido…" He murmured softly, carefully stroking over the back of his hand. "I'm glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling, little one?"
"Confused and sore." Ludwig mumbled, looking up at the Spaniard. If Antonio and Francis were here, then surely… "Where's big bruder? What am I doing here?" He demanded, blue eyes locking onto green as he tried desperately to focus. His confusion only grew at the saddened look on the brunette's face, Antonio looked so tired and sad, and it almost frightened Ludwig. Never since he was a child had he seen the cheerful man look so worn and beaten down.
"So you don't remember…" They hadn't been sure if he would or not. Hell, the doctors weren't even sure he was going to wake up. A sigh fell from Antonio's lips, as he scooted closer, continuing to gingerly stroke over his hand, hoping that it would keep the younger man calm as he told him the news. "Ludwig, sweetie, you and Gilbert were in a car accident six months ago. You've been in a coma since then but Gil…. he didn't make it. I'm so sorry, but he was on the drivers side when the other car hit you guys. He was dead when the ambulance got there, and you had internal bleeding. You were rushed right into surgery, but you slipped into a coma in the middle of it. Something about a reaction to the anesthetic. We weren't honestly sure you were ever going to wake up."
As he listened, Ludwig grew panicked, quickly shaking his head. No. No! It wasn't true, it couldn't be true. This had to be some sick kind of joke that Antonio was playing on him- but then, Ludwig had known Antonio his whole life, and the Spaniard just wasn't the type to be that cruel for the sake of a joke. "N-no…" He whimpered weakly, covering his ears tightly. "Shut up, it isn't true! Gil? Gilly, where are you!" He wailed, growing more and more upset with every second as the memories began to come pouring back.
They'd fought, that much he'd remembered correctly, and Gilbert had stormed out. But Ludwig had followed, saying that if his brother was going to the bar, so was he, and had gotten in the passengers seat. But the fight hadn't stopped there, even as Gilbert revved the car to life and took off. He wasn't paying attention… he hadn't been paying attention and it was Ludwig's fault. The last thing he could recall was a bright light, and a scream. Maybe his, maybe his brothers, he wasn't really sure. But it was definitely his fault. If he hadn't of fought… hadn't of yelled and screamed, Gilbert would have been paying attention to the road. He'd been so jealous of his brother spending time with other people because he didn't want to lose him, and that had gotten his brother taken from all of them, forever.
Screams, agonized wails began to fall from his lips as Francis and the nurse rushed in, the nurse grabbing a syringe and injecting the blonde with something, trying to settle him down as Antonio moved to sit on the edge of the bed, holding the boy he'd considered his little brother close, stroking through his hair. "Shhh…. shh sweetheart… you're going to make yourself more ill. Come on Luddi, we can't lose you too, you've got to calm down, you're still weak." He pleaded.
Ludwig quickly shoved him off the bed, face red and puffy, tear stains marring his otherwise flawless skin. "Don't touch me! Only Gilly calls me Luddi! Only Gilly! I want Gil.. he can't be… he's not… I want Gil!" He could feel his heart aching in his chest, everything felt too heavy, too real. Gilbert had been all he had left, the person he loved the most. And now he was alone. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep.
'Oh Luddi...' Gilbert murmured as he sat on the edge of the bed, stroking through his brothers hair, even though he knew the younger couldn't feel it. His voice was tinged with sadness, echoing in the emptiness of the room, but only to his own ears. He supposed he deserved this, an almost sort of purgatory. 'I'm so sorry, sweet one. Sorry I fought with you, sorry I ran. The truth is, I love you. I've loved you for a long time, but it had started to be so much more than it ought to have been. And I got scared. Scared you'd hate me, scared you'd reject me. I never wanted you to look at me with disgust in your eyes. And so I started drinking, until I couldn't think anymore. Until I couldn't feel. I was such a coward… and now look where we are. For six months, I've watched you sleep, not knowing if you'd wake or not, and hating myself for wishing that you'd join me here. But you're awake now. I can't move on though. There is no white light, sweet brother. All there is is coldness, and waiting for you.' Gilbert himself was trapped, unable to leave without his hearts greatest joy, doomed to be invisible, to never be with his most precious person, to watch his friends enjoy life without him. To see all he had lost, and the suffering of those near him, never able to help. He was doomed to be alone, and cold. A shiver ran down his spine, a sigh falling from his lips as he dipped down to kiss his brothers head, still able to feel the warmth of his skin, although Ludwig would feel nothing. 'I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry.'
Tears continued to stream down Ludwig's face as the sedative began to kick in, and, laying his head on the pillow, he once more slipped into a deep, long sleep.