AN: I apologize ahead of time for the angstyness of this fic. Had some ugly emotions I had to get out. Ah, nothing sends me into a deep feeling of self loathing more than talking to my mother. Yippiee skip.

Just so y'alls know, I usually write accents phonetically (meaning the way they sound.) so "what" is spelt "vhat," "We're" spelt "ve're," and all that. So if you read it out loud, you'll probably understand it more where you can't :)

Oh, and by the way, this is based off of the song "Because of You" By Nickelback. And also kinda-sorta-maybe something that may or may not have happened to me the other day…. ._.;

Trigger warnings: Suicide, cutting, blood, swearing, yaoi, all that good shit.

The house was quiet.

That was almost an impossible feat in and of itself; usually there would be music or a television on at eardrum-shattering volume somewhere in the house. However, that night the owner of said music and television set were out of the house, and the other occupant was polar opposite to him.

In a white tiled bathroom, there stood a blonde young man of no older than twenty-one. His hands were shaking slightly; a million thoughts were going through his head. The cellular phone in his pants pocket buzzed. He went to see who had acknowledged his presence in the world. A text message. "Hey Mattie, I heard about what happened at the meeting. Are you okay?"

The boy, Matthew, sucked in a deep breath and shakily tapped a reply to the message. "I'm done, Gil. I'm so done." The blonde's hands were shaking as he tried to fight tears, "I finally get noticed at a meeting, and Alfred has to go and mess it all up. I'm DONE. I'm not going to stick around just for them to ignore me any longer."

The boy inhaled deeply and put the phone on the white porcelain sink. Slowly, as if he were in a trance, the pale Canadian walked to the white bathtub and drew back the shower curtains. He put the plug in the drain, then turned the knob for hot water on to full blast. Steam filled the bathroom like a sauna. Matthew breathed in deeply, feeling almost relaxed by the humidity of the small room. He was only brought back by the buzz of his phone. He picked it up from the sink. "Done? What do you mean, done?" the text questioned.

Almost instantaneously, a second text came through and made his phone buzz. "Goddamnit, Mattie, That'd better not mean what I think it means…"

Matthew bit his lip. Gilbert saw through him like a ziplock bag. That night wasn't the first time this had crossed his mind. It certainly would be the last. Matthew swallowed the lump in his throat and tapped another reply to his lover. "I'm sorry, Gil." He replied sincerely, "You know I love you, right?"

Matthew set the phone down on the seat of the toilet and turned around to turn the lock on the gold colored doorknob. Once the comforting click hit his ears, he turned back to the bathtub and turned the knob to stop the water. By now enough cold water had mixed with the hot to make it just the right temperature. Not that it entirely mattered to Matthew. He usually preferred incredibly hot water anyways. His phone buzzed again. "Matthew, don't even fucking THINK about it!" the text warned. "Is Alfred home? Have you eaten anything today?"

Matthew cringed. He knew his love well enough to know that the last two questions meant he was coming over. I have to hurry… he told himself. His shaky thumbs tapped out another reply. "I'm fine, Gil." He lied. "No, Alfred's not home, and no, I haven't eaten."

He set the phone down on the lid of the toilet, and started stripping. Once he got to his pants, he stopped and took an item from his pocket.

A razor blade. He got it from the old-fashioned metal razor his father gave him when he was just starting to need one. He set it down on the side of the bathtub and undid his belt. His pants practically fell from his thin frame. He looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn't realized how much weight he'd actually lost in the last few weeks. Eating as little as he did does that to a person. His phone buzzed again. "Don't lie to me, Matt." The Canadian could almost hear the man's anger in the words. "And don't you dare stop texting me."

Matthew swallowed the lump in his throat and tapped another reply. "I'm sorry, Gil. I love you."

He set the phone down on the toilet seat again, and finished undressing. When his socks and boxers were in the pile of clothing with his red hoodie and dark jeans, he removed his oval-shaped glasses and set them on the toilet next to his phone. He gingerly stepped into the water, sinking to a sitting position and immersing himself completely in the steamy water. After a moment or two, he sat up in the porcelain bathtub, almost feeling sleepy and drowsy from the comfortable warmth of the water. That feeling of comfort was quickly replaced by dread as the phone buzzed and rattled the toilet seat. "Matt, don't you fucking do it!"

Matthew didn't answer the text. He swallowed away tears. "I'm sorry, Gilbert." He whispered as if he could hear him.

With shaking hands, the blonde reached for the razor. Another text made the white seat rattle. "Verdammt, Matt, ANSWER ME!"

Matthew closed his eyes, fighting tears, and pressed the razor to his forearm. He dragged the metal up the length of his arm, blood rushing from the wound almost immediately. He gasped slightly. He had multiple marks and scars on his hips from the same razor, but none of them were this deep or this painful. The phone buzzed again. He just glanced over at the screen as his vision started to get hazy. "MATT!"

Away in another house, panic ran rampant. One of its occupants, an albino man, was tapping at his smartphone incessantly, trying desperately to get in contact with his unresponsive lover. He knew his lover wasn't alright. He knew something terrible was going to happen if he wasn't fast. "Sceisse!" The self-proclaimed Prussian swore loudly, grabbing his jacket from the knob of his bed frame and pulling it on in a panicked hurry, "Gott verdammt, Birdie! Don't do this again!"

The albino man tore out of his basement bedroom and up the stairs to the living room. He continued up the stairs and down the hall, until he came to his younger brother's closed bedroom door. Frantically, Gilbert pounded on the door with his fist. "Vest!" he called loudly, "Stop fucking your little Italian boytoy for a minute and get out here!"

There was a little grunt of irritation and a "ve~" of disappointment from behind the door, and after a few moments the door opened. A tall, muscular, irritated looking blonde stood in the doorway, his clothes looking a tad disheveled. "Vhat do you vant, Gilbert?" he asked, frustration in his voice.

"Matt's acting veird again." Gilbert explained, his panicked voice hushed almost, "Now he's not answering my texts. He's gonna try it again, I'm sure of it!"

Immediately the blonde knew what he meant. The irritation disappeared from his face, soon replaced by uneasy understanding. "You go varm up ze car, I'll tell Feliciano I have to leave." He told him.

Gilbert nodded curtly, then dashed down to the lower level of the house to get keys for their car. In less than five minutes, the blonde brother was downstairs and walking out the door, auburn-haired Italian following after him. "Sorry, Feli," Gilbert said distractedly, opening up the car door and buckling himself in. "Didn't mean to cockblock you guys. I just need Ludwig's help right now."

The dreamy Italian smiled slightly, despite the situation he was aware of. "Ve~ It's okay. You didn't cockblock us." He said, "we've'a never done anything anyway!"

Gilbert heard Ludwig swear under his breath and made a note to bring that comment up again when things were calm. But for now, the brothers tore out of the driveway, waving a small, distracted goodbye to Feliciano before putting the pedal to the floor and speeding away. Gilbert, who was sitting in the passenger seat checked his phone again. "Sceisse," he swore again, "Still no answer. He's freaking me out, Lud."

Ludwig's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "I know, Bruder. It'll be okay. We'll get there before he can do something stupid."

"He's already done something stupid," Gilbert shook his head, "I can feel it. That's vhy he's not responding. Oh Gott, Vest..."

Ludwig frowned, unsure what to say to his brother. The remainder of the twenty minute drive that was completed in ten was spent in anxious silence. Ludwig halted and parked the car just behind Alfred's dusty red pickup truck, which was parked next to Matthew's dark blue station-wagon-like vehicle. Gilbert was confused at first by Alfred's presence, but thought nothing of it and dashed from the vehicle to the front door before Ludwig could even kill the ignition.

Gilbert tore into the living room, where the roommate-slash-twin brother of his boyfriend sat watching an idiotic sport on television at three decimals below deafness. "Hey!" Alfred half shouted at the albino, who was frantically looking around at the conjoined kitchen and living room, searching for his beloved. "Just 'cause you're fucking my little brother doesn't mean you live here! Learn how to knock!"

The albino man grunted in frustration and glared at Alfred. "Where's Mattie?!"

Alfred seemed surprised by Gilbert's frantic attitude. "I dunno, I just walked in a few minutes ago."

"He's not responding to my texts," Gilbert said urgently, "Und he vas acting strangely before. VHERE is he!?"

"I seriously don't know!" Alfred replied honestly, standing up, "I saw a light in the bathroom upstairs though. Maybe he's in the tub or something."

Without another word, Gilbert charged out of the living room and up the stairs, the worst case scenarios of what he would find in the bathroom running through his head. He came to the white door and knocked loudly. "Mattie! Open up, it's me!" he called, but received no reply. "Mattie?!"

Ludwig was soon behind him as well as Alfred. Gilbert tried to open the door, but it was firmly locked and wouldn't budge. "Verdammt! Mattie, open up!" he called. "Or else I'll have Vest break ze door down!"

When no sounds of protest met his ears, Gilbert turned to his muscular younger brother. Ludwig nodded in understanding, and charged the door once, twice, and then breaking it off the hinges on the third try. The Aryan man froze at what he saw, immediately moving out of the way for his older brother. "MATTIE!" Gilbert cried out at the sight.

Blood. Blood everywhere. on the tiles, on the tub, in the water… Even some on the walls next to the bath. The blonde man's eyes looked half open, delirious from blood loss. The albino put two fingers to his lover's throat. "He's still alive… Ludwig, call Nine-One-One!" Gilbert immediately ordered, grabbing a handful of towels from a nearby rack and pressing two to the oozing wounds on the blonde's wrists. "Verdammt, Mattie, don't you dare die on me!"

Ludwig paced impatiently, frantically trying to get ahold of someone. "It's taking forever," he muttered.

"Then ve'll take him ourselves." Gilbert said, grabbing a bigger towel and the boxers on the ground, "Help me get him up."

Ludwig hung up the phone and went to help Gilbert stand- or at least slightly pick up- the limp blonde nation. Disregarding the water dripping from the Canadian's body, Gilbert yanked the boxers up the boy's body so he'd have SOME kind of coverage, and helped his brother carry him downstairs and to their car, Alfred following them with a string of "Oh shit!"'s and "Goddamn it, Matt!"'s. Ludwig sat In the driver's seat again, Gilbert sitting in the back with Alfred and Matthew and still holding the towels to the bleeding wounds. "Don't leave me, Mattie," Gilbert begged the smaller man, "I need you, Birdie!"

Matthew muttered something incoherent, his brows furrowed to a sad expression. Gilbert stroked the boy's hair during the ride to the hospital, murmuring German under his breath and urging him to stay awake and with them.

By the time they had gotten to the hospital, Matthew was unconscious. The doctors quickly took the boy into the emergency room, leaving Gilbert, Ludwig and Alfred to worry in the waiting room. Gilbert sat with his head in his hands. "Mein Gott, Vest," he almost whispered, "Vhy vould he do it… he knows how much I love him…"

Ludwig nodded and put a hand to his brother's back. "I know, Bruder," he told him, "I don't understand it either. But at least ve got zhere in time."

There was a moment or two of silence between them before Gilbert decided to change the subject to keep his mind off of things. "So… Mein bruder's a virgin still, eh?"

Ludwig sighed. "I don't see how it's your business, but ja. Feliciano vants to vait until marriage to do anything."

Gilbert tried to laugh, though in his grief it came out as more of a choked chuckle. "you poor, unlucky, unawesome bastard."

Ludwig sighed audibly and was about to reply when a doctor appeared at the door. "Gilbert Belschmidt and Alfred Jones?"

Almost immediately, the two that were called as well as Ludwig were at the doctor. "Yeah, how is he?" Alfred demanded nervously.

The doctor looked the scared blonde in the eye. "He's alright for now. We have him on tranquilizers to level out his emotions a bit and he had to have a blood transfusion, but for the moment he's alright."

All three of them sighed in relief. "We are required to hold him for observation for seventy-two hours," the doctor continued, "and after that I would highly recommend he see a therapist."

"He is already. Some good that's doing…" Gilbert shook his head, "Can ve see him now?"

The doctor nodded. "Two at a time." He said, "Family first."

Gilbert looked back at Ludwig apologetically, silently begging for understanding. "It's alright. You go." The blonde urged him. "I'll call Feliciano and let him know Matt's alright."

The albino silently thanked his younger brother for being awesome, and followed the doctor through the white halls. Gilbert shivered. He hated hospitals. He always had. Soon enough, however, they reached the room where Matthew was being held. Gilbert stopped at the door, tears almost coming to his eyes at the sight of his little Birdie in the bed, all sorts of tubes and wires coming out of him. A mumsy nurse with platinum blonde hair and late 80s glasses sat vigil next to him, making notes of his vitals. "Goddamnit, Matthew," he murmured, "my little Birdie…"

Gilbert sat in the chair next to him, taking the hand closest to him and planting a tentative kiss to it, away from the tubes taped down into it. "I can't imagine the pain you vere in," he murmured, softly. "And I couldn't do anything for it…"

Across from him, Alfred sighed. "Damn, Matt…" he muttered, "Why the hell would you do something like this…?"

Matthew's glazed eyes wandered towards Alfred. "Hoser…" he muttered, "Meeting… I… Ignored… d-done…"

"What?" Alfred stared at his twin for half a second, "This is all because of that stupid meeting?! Are you serious?!"

"Don't be an arschloch, Alfred." Gilbert hissed, "This didn't just happen overnight, and you know it. This isn't his first attempt on his life."

The mumsy nurse's eyes darted between the two men, almost challenging them to make a wrong move. Gilbert caught the message and gazed back at Matthew to calm down. "He's tired of being unheard and invisible." He said, "He told me he vas done vith being drowned out… He… He didn't vant to stick around and be ignored for another second…"

Matthew's eyes looked glassy with liquid. "Gil…" his voice was raspy, as if it hadn't been used in some time.

"Damn it, Mattie," Gilbert pressed his forehead to the blonde's chest, his voice sounding broken "I need ze awesome you here… I can't let you go dying on me!"

"Gilbert…" Matthew croaked, his hands weakly going to stroke the albino's hair. "I… I'm sorry…I… I couldn't…"

"I know…" Gilbert half whispered. "I know, Birdie. But ve're here now."

Tears slid down Matthew's cheeks. "I… je t'aime, Gil…" he murmured softly, not sure what else to say.

"Ich Leibe dich auch, Birdie…" The albino replied softly, giving his lover a gentle squeeze, "More than you'll ever know."