while his name is still spoken

by Bag Of Badgers

A man isn't dead while his name's still spoken. Italy tries to help Germany remember that, after his brother goes. GerIta, K, technically Prussia's in here too but in spirit only.

Feliciano doesn't think he's seen Ludwig cry since the funeral two weeks ago. His eyes are a little red and puffy sometimes, but he's not sleeping much anymore either, and he didn't at all the week before the funeral— Feliciano would go out into the living room in the early hours of the morning, wondering why he wasn't in bed, and find him trying to do work, or sitting and staring into space, and once just pacing— and it hurts Feliciano too, just as much as losing Gilbert had in the first place.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks Ludwig, every night, but the answer is always no. And then Feliciano will say "You're sure?" and Ludwig will answer "yes" and that will be that.

If it had been Lovino who had gone, and not Gilbert, Feliciano knows he would talk about Lovino as much as he could. Man's not dead while his name's still spoken, after all. He'd tell everyone about how he had the coolest big brother, who always looked out for him, made up after they fought, kept him safe— that is what Feliciano would do. Silence does not suit him well, he knows.

Silence like this doesn't suit Ludwig.

And then, one night, he turns to Feliciano in bed and murmurs "You know, once Gilbert tried to teach me how to drink but I was too small and he had to carry me home afterwards."

After that, it's like some kind of dam has broken within Ludwig and soon he's laughing and crying and holding on to Feliciano and talking about the times Gilbert had picked him up and dusted him off— the times he'd hated Gilbert, when Gilbert forced him to repeat rifle drills over and over outside in the dead of winter and made him disassemble and reassemble the rifle over and over and over— the times he'd loved Gilbert, when they'd been a united front, two brothers one Germany, and Gilbert taught him everything— how he believed, really believed, everything Gilbert had told him, even the things that made Feliciano laugh, and he still believes them— how Gilbert had raised him from an overawed, fragile child— how despite everything Gilbert was his brother, is his brother, damn it all he was everything for so long—

Ludwig cries himself out that night, and Feliciano cries with him.

A few weeks later, they find a note in scrawly, familiar handwriting on the nightstand.

hey- just wanted to see how you're doing. feli, take care of the big guy. lutz, chin up and take care of cutie. augustus and opa send their love.

They both cry a little then, too.