Bruder, mein bruder.

A/N: Haha! I wrote this in chemistry, believe it or not. It's a little angsty, but I really liked it. Anyway, as I said it was written at 8 in the morning so the quality is slightly on the poor side. Oh well!

If I had known what would happen…
If I knew I would have…
I wasn't…

Look at me trying to write you a letter.
That's probably too sentimental for you, right?
You'll probably never even read this, but here I am writing it anyway.
If you do read this, you'll probably groan about how "soft" I've become.
But I don't care.
Not anymore.
I need to tell you.
You need to know.
I need to talk to you.

Gil, I'm sorry.
I makea point of being ready for everything,
but I wasn't ready.
Not for that.
I wasn't ready to fight with you,
and I wasn't ready for the consequences.
Maybe,
If I had known you would storm off,
I would have acted differently.
If I had remembered who you were at war with,
I would have tried to avoid fighting.
I would have kept you from going.
I would have…
I should hae kept you from going…

But I didn't,
And the fault is mine and mine alone.

Bruder…
Mein Bruder…
I don't know what else I can say.
Especially knowing you won't read this.
I'm sorry it's taken me this long to write this,
I wouldn't blame you for not reading this,
and I don't expect to be getting a reply any time soon if ever.
I just hope wherever you went,
You're doing well.

I'm sorry I let this happen,
and I know you must hate me.
I'm sorry I didn't know,
and I'm sorry I wasn't ready.
I'm especially sorry it's you that had to pay for my actions (or lack thereof).
This is the fift letter I've written,
and the first I'll send.
I'm sorry I couldn't be a better brother,
I couldn't be better for you.
If I had known that day would be my last with you,
I would have fought harder to keep you here.
I would have tld you not to go,
I should have grabbed you and held you tight.

But I didn't.
I wasn't ready for you to leave,
and it's too late now.
It can't be helped now.
Maybe, I should have kissed you goodbye…
Now I'll never have that chance.
I'm sorry I didn't help you,
and I'm sorry you hate me.

I realize it's too late, but
Ich Liebe Dich.
Ludwig

Standing, the Aryan put the letter in the envelope and pulled his boots and jacket on. Grabbing his hat, he placed it upon his head on the walk outside. He walked out, down the drive way, past the mailbox, and the rest of the two miles to the cemetery. Once there, he stood in front of the marble grave reading the name of his dear brother, his life span, and his nation under them. Pressing his lips together, the German lowered himself to the ground. This was the first time he'd been to this cemetery since the funeral six years ago, and it still didn't hurt any less. All he could do was apologize for avoiding his brother for so long and cry his silent tears that never seemed to cease.

After a while of just kneeling there, he picked up a small rock off the ground and laid the letter on the grave, setting the stone on top of it to keep it in place.

A/N: Please rate and review. Thanks!