Gift-fic for Sand! Congrats on University and good luck on your first day back!

This prompt was given to me by gdesertsand; hope you enjoy!


Prompt: As a defense mechanism, Gilbert is forced to forget everything while under Matthew's care. But every touch gives back painful memories and now he has a fear of being loved by another. How can his family and friends show that their love and caring is something not to be scared of?

Chapter 1: A Vanished Past


Is this what love brings? Pain… suffering… loss…

He didn't want any of it. It wasn't in his interest to hurt so much. He couldn't handle it. It was too much. Too much… too much…

The white-haired man curled up in his bed, facing the wall and back hunched so his body was a protective ball around him. He was locked in the tiny room he had called home for…he didn't even know how long anymore. It seemed he had lost track of the time. Oh.

This place had never been a home, no matter how many times he had heard it referred to as that. It was a prison. A prison that had become so ingrained into his head that he could not even remember a world outside of it. There were only wisps of his old life that still remained… the trill of his silver flute… stern words from his brother… the wops upside the head from his best friend…

Names, they had flown away from him. Places, they had become a blur. Time, it was as distant to him as the rest of the world.

These fleeting memories brought a bittersweet smile to his face every time. It would hurt his heart, yet it felt lighter all at once. He wasn't sure how that was possible - how something could bring him so much happiness and so much pain at the same time. When he closed his eyes and indulged in these fading memories, he could finally relax. He could pretend he was somewhere else. He could no longer image another place for him to be, but the mind was a powerful place and at times he was able to pretend. It lasted only for a split second, but wanting to remember times where he had been happy was well worth it. He needed to remember that at one point in his life he had been happy…

It used to be like that. Recently, though, "wanting" these memories had become a thing of the past. It used to be enough for his sanity to hold onto the good times - let them be an anchor in his topsy turvy life. It used to be that he wanted to grab these dwindling strands of memory and hold them close. He wanted to lose himself to the past and never again face his present. He had never dreamed that there would be a day that he would let them all go.

That day came when he finally realized what love did. It brought pain… suffering… loss…

The man curled into his blankets stared blankly at the wall, his insides in turmoil and his once vibrant red eyes dimming to a dull and glassy look. He had hoped for too long that holding onto his old life would help him. He had witnessed too much pain caused by the veil of love. He had endured too much suffering from those deceived by the poisonous emotion.

He didn't want any of it anymore. No more pain… suffering… loss… love…

He no longer held onto these memories as his anchor or his shield. Soon he no longer even reached out to them for comfort. What was the point in them? They did not help. In fact, he began to believe they caused more harm than anything.

He didn't hold on. They slipped away. He didn't reach for them as they dwindled, waned, disappeared, faded away. His recollection failed. His past vanished.

And his present did too. Because with the disappearance of the old memories, the newer ones could leave too. When he could forget the good, the bad left Gilbert's mind as well.

In the end, Gilbert was empty... but he was finally safe.

-/-

"Gilbert? Are you there?"

Gilbert woke up in a hospital. Then he woke up again at the hospital. He was tired. Very tired. He couldn't keep his eyes open. He woke up in the same room, in the same bed, in the same hospital, many times that week. He didn't know why he was in a hospital or even what his own name was. Gilbert. Someone had said Gilbert.

The environment that surrounded him was stable, yet he himself felt anything but. White walls. Thin sheets. Beeps from machines and the solid door across the way from him. It stood as if it watched over him. The door never opened and the room never changed. There was only one thing he had been sure hadn't been there the first time he had woken up. A vase of flowers. After that, they didn't change other than in color and stature. They wilted and became brittle parchment instead of silky petals. Gilbert wished he could see them easier. Maybe holding onto this change every time he woke up would help keep him awake.

In the end, though, he would always fall back into sleep. After a week was when he woke up for good. Gilbert hadn't known how long he had been asleep, but he had heard a woman in a long white jacket talking to a man about it. The man looked familiar. That's funny, Gilbert had never met him before… now that he thought about it, Gilbert had never met anyone before.

The man had slicked back blonde hair and a level expression. If you didn't know him, you might call it a stern look that constantly was his features, but Gilbert knew better. How was that? He didn't even know the man.

He didn't know anyone… he couldn't remember anything… where was he… what was he doing here? Then Gilbert began to panic. He sat up, throwing the thin sheets of the hospital bed off of him, not knowing what he would do, but desperately knowing that this wasn't right. None of this was right. He didn't know anything. He didn't know what to do but panic.

The two looked up suddenly, now aware that Gilbert was fully awake and in need of restraining lest he messed up something or hurt himself. The man held his arms down while the woman called someone in. People flooded the room but Gilbert didn't pay attention to a single one of them. His attention was on the pair of blue eyes directly before him, piercing into his own. He knew these eyes and that calmed him if only for a second. Then his panic overtook him again.

How did he know those eyes? How? Howhowhow? It was all he could ask himself anymore.

Until a needle pierced his unnaturally pale skin a pumped whatever toxins or chemicals they held into his vein and drowsiness overtook him. Soon, Gilbert was fast asleep and damn if that didn't frustrate him even in his unconscious state.

-/-

"Do you not remember me?" Fear struck the other man and Gilbert unconsciously felt guilt weave into his heart at the sight.

Whether he felt guilty or not or even if it upset the man before him, Gilbert knew that he could only tell the truth. The truth was the least confusing thing at the moment and Gilbert was through with being confused between the nameless faces and all the talking over his head. No one seemed eager to talk directly to him except for this man in front of him and now Gilbert was beginning to think that speaking to him had been a bad idea.

Gilbert shook his head, an agreement of sorts to the question he had been asked. The man before him looked absolutely crushed at the news and had to look away from Gilbert's puzzled and searching eyes. He stayed silent for some time, gazing out the window to the left of Gilbert's bed, before he turned back, expressions under control and resolve set firmly in his face. "I would tell you to stop joking, but I can see you're not." He sighed and sat down in the chair beside the bed.

"I am Ludwig Beilschmidt, your brother." Gilbert felt his eyes widen at the statement. It was a concrete fact presented before him in a world of unknowns. It was the first certainty he had received since he had woken up that first time over a week ago.

He had a brother. This man was his brother. And Gilbert wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to that…

He stayed silent. "Do you remember anything? Do you know your own name?" Gilbert shook his head. He would have chimed up to say, 'It's Gilbert, isn't it? I heard someone say that.' but he couldn't. He could only stay silent, face expressionless as he listened.

"Your name is Gilbert Beilschmidt. You'll be twenty-two in January. January eighteenth if you want to know the exact date." Ludwig's lips formed a straight line when he stopped. Gilbert wanted to tell him to continue. He wanted to know everything. But one thought interrupted any others he might have been considering.

"Why don't I remember?"

Ludwig could no longer hold his gaze and it slipped down to his hands folded uniformly in his lap. Gilbert recognized this as an uncomfortable gesture. It was curious how he seemed to unconsciously know these things. "I don't know." It pained Ludwig to say those words; Gilbert could tell it in his body language, gestures, voice, features… his brother was like an open book to him. Gilbert wished he could remember the instances that built this instinct on how to interpret all these things.

He wanted to remember it all, so why did the thought bring an awful taste to his mouth?

-/-

When Gilbert was checked out of the hospital the home he went to wasn't as familiar to him as he had hoped.

"This is my apartment." Ludwig had said, "You'll probably be staying here for a while."

"Do I not have my own apartment?" Gilbert asked, looking around. If he could see his own apartment maybe it would help jog his memory more. During Gilbert's last days in the hospital, Ludwig had told him stories from their childhood and facts about his life and even answered a few of Gilbert's questions. Admittedly, most of them had gone ignored, but the few Gilbert had succeeded in had him satisfied enough in his abilities of persuasion that he didn't much mind.

Despite hearing so much about his past in just the few days after he had learned about his amnesia, Gilbert craved for more. He wanted an actual memory to come back. He wanted to remember experiencing the things he listened to instead of merely just hearing about them. Seeing a familiar place might have helped, he thought. Well, this idea was put down immediately. "Not anymore." Was Ludwig's vague response to his question. Gilbert decided to not let his frustration get to him, even when it kept building and building each time his brother avoided a question like that.

Instead, Gilbert let Ludwig lead him to his room, the guest room if Gilbert had ever seen one. And he meant that. He had no idea if he had ever seen one. Surely he had seen a guest room before… right? Gilbert hadn't realized he was scratching his head in thought until Ludwig cleared his throat.

"This will be your room. There's the bathroom and the kitchen is down the hall, though I'd prefer if you just asked for anything. Make yourself at home and call me if you need anything." Under that tough shell, Ludwig was worried. Worried that Gilbert would hurt himself or break something. Worried he might wander off or remember something awful.

Ludwig wanted his brother to remember him… but did he want him to remember what he had gone through?

Gilbert didn't notice his worry as he made his way over to the twin bed in a corner of the room. He plopped down onto it and finally relaxed. It was so much better than the hospital bed. Sure, you could adjust the position of the hospital bed, but nothing beat a real bed in a real home. Besides, if you're stuck in a hospital bed, there's a good chance you won't be allowed out for weeks.

"Okay. I will be down the hall." Ludwig said in finality, but, before he could slip out, Gilbert stopped him.

"Wait!" Gilbert sprung up from the bed, stopping when Ludwig ceased his own path to the door. Honestly, Gilbert hadn't had anything specific in mind to say to him and now he was standing there like an idiot, with his brother waiting somewhat impatiently at the door. If Gilbert could deduce anything in the few days they had been talking to one another, it was that they had inherited the same intolerance for delay. "Um…" Gilbert searched for something to say, "Is there anyone else I know? Will I meet them soon?"

Ludwig seemed amused, as if he knew exactly that Gilbert was searching for any excuse to talk to him. "Yeah, you'll probably be meeting many people in the next few days. If you don't think you'll be up to it-"

"No!" Gilbert exclaimed then seemed to realize his outburst, "Um, I mean, pssh. Of course I can handle a few people." Gilbert searched for something else to say. He liked talking to Ludwig. It felt familiar and oddly comforting.

Ludwig seemed to pick up on this, "How about we watch a movie tonight? I can show you some of the movies you really like. You did always say that if you could watch them again without knowing anything about them you would." Ludwig chuckled and Gilbert thought about how nice it must be to have a memory to look back on to make you happy. Had he ever been able to take comfort in a memory like that?

"Alright. Movie night it is!" Ludwig left the room and Gilbert turned around in a big circle. He let his thoughts spin around as well. He went through every memory since he could remember, a harder task than it should have been since he could only remember the entirety of a couple days. He slouched onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. He thought about who he would meet in the next few days. Friends… family…

Did he have more family? Why hadn't they come to see him yet? Why hadn't anyone but Ludwig come to see him in the hospital? He supposed friends wouldn't have really been invited so he wouldn't have been overwhelmed, but family surely would have come, right? Maybe he really didn't have anyone else… maybe there was only Ludwig…

Gilbert shook his head. That's stupid! He was too awesome to not have millions of adoring friends that must have worried about him. They had just been busy… or worried. That's it. They would be there soon.

-/-

Gilbert's first visitors came after a day of extreme boredom. Gilbert was glad to have someone, even someone he didn't know, over to entertain him and keep Ludwig from suggesting he go sit down with a good book. He didn't know anyone anyway, so he might as well.

The first person was a girl. That was a surprise to Gilbert. She had long brown hair and green eyes that were as wide as dinner plates when she stepped through the apartment door and saw Gilbert. She had rushed over and Gilbert was taken aback for a second thinking that she might try to hug him.

That's when a hard wop to the back of the head caused his skull to clatter. When he looked up the girl was standing in front of him, both hands on her hips and glaring down at him like he had drawn on her walls in Sharpie or something. Gilbert looked over at Ludwig, hoping he would know what to do. Ludwig would defend him if this girl threw a punch or ripped out his spleen or something, right?

What he saw did not reassure him, though. Ludwig was rolling his eyes and leaving the room. As if this all was normal as can be! And he called himself his brother! Brothers don't leave brothers to die!

"Gilbert, you're a damn idiot." The girl scolded him and he felt like he was being reprimanded by a teacher for plagiarism or something equally as terrifying. Then she did what he had thought she was going to do earlier, only he wasn't at all expecting it anymore. She crushed him in a hug.

"You're one confusing chick." He choked out through crushed lungs and lack of air. The girl pulled back, scrutinized him once more, then fell back and collapsed in a chair at the kitchen table. Gilbert made a note to be cautious when sitting at this table. There was no way to tell if an angry girl was about to storm around the corner and beat him to a pulp… or crush him in an embrace… he was still working this all out and, honestly, it kind of hurt his head.

"Ludwig filled me in over the phone." She was now sitting properly in the chair, legs crossed under the long skirt she wore and hands placed on one knee. It was as if the violent girl he had seen before had now disappeared. This only freaked him out more. Not only does he know what she's hiding under that exterior, but the expression, it looked somehow wrong to Gilbert. Was that his instincts kicking in again? Does he know this girl enough to know when she's off? "So, I should introduce myself properly. It probably freaked you out when I smacked you around, but honestly I can't help myself. It's been so long…" Her green eyes grew distant for a moment. Gilbert didn't like how soft she had suddenly gone - not one bit. "Elizabeta Héderváry. You usually call me Liz. Or bitch. And sometimes when you think I'm not listening, 'she-devil'."

Gilbert paused, somewhat in a panic. What had his past self been thinking? How was he not dead yet? "Uh, sorry?"

Elizabeta waved it off. "Nah, that's just how we work. Call me whatever, though. I doubt you're comfortable enough to pick up right where we left off."

Gilbert nodded. He was still afraid of this Elizabeta and he could see perfectly clear why he had called her a 'she-devil'. Nodding was safe. Nodding prevented angering the scary girl across from him that he had somehow befriended in a past life.

"So, is there anything you want to talk about? If you've got questions I might be able to answer them, especially if they're about your younger years. I met you back in elementary, so I would know." She was tapping her fingers softly on the table, causing only the softest of sound to resonate from the pads of her fingers against the wood. Gilbert picked up on her nervousness. Nervousness didn't suit her. He sensed this wasn't an attribute he had seen from her very often.

Gilbert thought that talking might help and damn if he wasn't curious. Gilbert asked a few questions. And she answered them no problem. A lot of the time they were short simple answers, but Gilbert learned more from her in this short amount of time than he had within a few days with Ludwig. Ludwig was too careful with what he told Gilbert, like he was afraid he would say too much. It built a lot of walls in their conversations.

"So, when did we first meet? You said we were in elementary." Gilbert asked. He was more comfortable with the 'she-devil' now that they had talked so much and he was starting to ask questions almost without fear - key word 'almost'; Gilbert wanted to keep his life after all.

"Third grade." Elizabeta took a sip from the tea Ludwig had brought in not too long ago. It was in a mug and she was holding it with both hands to heat them up. Gilbert hadn't noticed how chilly it must have been outside until he saw the warm coat, scarf, and mittens Elizabeta had been wearing when she had come in - and that realization hadn't truly come until she shedded the extra articles of clothing and draped them over the back of the chair. What? He had been busy protecting his own damn life from this girl!

"My dad moved us all here because he'll pick up his whole life in a heartbeat if his job asked, which it did." Elizabeta rolled her eyes. "I transfered into your class and, for a while, you thought I was a boy." Gilbert must have had an incredulous look on his face because Elizabeta rolled her eyes again, but not without a smirk adorning her lips. "Since you can't really come to your own defense at the moment, I must say that back then I thought I was a boy too. I don't even know why, my parents tried their hardest to dress me in pink and skirts, but I kept coming home wearing your clothes and finally they decided to start buying me tshirts and cargo shorts. You letting me borrow your clothes was probably the only reason that friendship worked out as long as it did. After the initial rocky part where we wanted to beat each other to a pulp every time we saw each other, we eventually became friends. Ludwig will tell you that our friendship is founded on nothing but competition."

"I let you borrow my clothes? If we weren't friends at first, why did I do that?"

"I think you'd have to ask yourself that. I never knew the reason. I don't think your grandfather approved tho-" Elizabeta cut herself off as if she had realized she had said something she wasn't supposed to.

Slowly, the gears of Gilbert's mind worked through what she had said. "My grandfather?" Was there really another family member out there? If he had a grandfather, why hadn't he come to see him yet?

"Oh, uh, would you look at that. I'm going to be late to work if I stay any longer!" She was pointing to her watchless wrist as she stood up and gathered her coat and things. "It's been so good to see you again, Gilbert." Then she paused again, letting her rushed words die in her throat as she turned to face him. A soft look crossed her features and Gilbert was once again struck with the odd feeling that look did not belong there, especially not directed at him. It did not look completely alien, but directed at him made it almost so.

"Really, Gilbert. I'm so happy you're okay. We were all so worried." A pained look could briefly be seen before her customary smirk masked it. This smirk, it looked more like her. Then Gilbert thought of her words.

Okay? What was she talking about? He had freaking amnesia! Compared to what was he okay?

Gilbert got up to lead her out and on the way noticed a new person on the couch sitting next to his brother. He had soft auburn hair and a loose curl that sprung out away from his face. The strand seemed familiar to Gilbert in a way that made a shiver run up his spine. He felt cold.

That was, until the man stood up and practically bounced across the room to Gilbert. He almost threw the taken off guard man into a hug before Elizabeta stood in front of him and gave the soft smile Gilbert had seen before to the shorter man. The hug was thrown at Eliza instead.

"Hello, Feli! It's been so long!"

"Elizabeta! Ludwig told me you were here! How are you?"

Through the exchange, Gilbert watched and noticed the demeanour of the two. He had never met the man - Feli, was it? - but he noticed that Elizabeta seemed a lot more at ease now. The soft smiles looked natural when directed at the auburn man.

Gilbert also noticed that Ludwig had made his way around the couch to stand at Feli's side, placing a hand on his shoulder. Was it normal for people to stand so close together? Then the shorter man wrapped his arm through Ludwig's and Gilbert somehow knew.

His brother had a boyfriend.

And, for some reason, that brought a happy smirk to his face. Imagining that his brother was happy with this man, it made Gilbert happy. Plus, he now had perfect teasing material. If little brothers weren't for teasing, what were they for? If there was something else, Gilbert sure as hell didn't remember it.

"Gilbert," Ludwig spoke and Gilbert noticed that Elizabeta had stepped back when she had been sure the shorter man wouldn't fling himself at the constantly confused Gilbert, "This is Feliciano."

The man waved and spoke up, "Feliciano Vargas! Wow, it's odd introducing yourself to someone you've known for so long. I mean, I first met you in the first grade; of course, that meant you were actually in the third grade but the point is we've known each other very very long."

"Um, okay. It's awesome to remeet you then."

Feliciano gasped suddenly and said excitedly, "You still say it! Oh mio dio I haven't heard you say that in so long!" Tears had sprung in Feliciano's eyes and Gilbert took that as a cue to become slightly panicky. He hadn't meant to make the guy cry!

"Oh! I'm sorry; I didn't mean it! Uh, what did I say? I'll take it back!"

Feliciano shook his head rapidly and swiped at his eyes. "You didn't say anything wrong! It's just that, well, you used to say 'awesome' all the time. I had almost forgotten about it… it's been so long…" Feliciano took this moment to hide his face by burying it in Ludwig's chest. Ludwig was looking back and forth between the two trying to deem who was in more distress, his emotional and high strung boyfriend or his confused amnesiac brother.

Gilbert surprised them all then by being the first to speak up, "Hey, Feli, no need to cry! That's so unawesome!" The word felt right on Gilbert's tongue and he hoped it wouldn't make the man cry even more, "Why don't you tell me all about you and how you met Ludwig. I sure have a lot of catching up to do!"

Feliciano peered out from his hidey hole with a spark of hope in his eyes. "Really? Oh, you want me to tell you about how we all met? That would be great! I love telling that story!" Feliciano giggled and it was as if his tearstained moment had never happened.

Then Ludwig spoke up. "Why don't we sit on the couch and talk? Gilbert shouldn't strain himself too much; he only just got home. Elizabeta, will you be joining us?"

"Oh no. I must be going. It's been a treat seeing you all again and I will definitely be back soon. I want to make sure this guy doesn't wander off again without telling us." She pointed a thumb at Gilbert and Ludwig gave a polite smile as he led her to the door. Feliciano waved Gilbert to the sitting room.

When Ludwig returned, Feliciano started and Gilbert briefly wondered as he listened to the man how his little bruder could keep up with him. He spoke at a thousand words a minute and didn't even seem to need to breath in between. "Well! The first time you met me you thought I was a girl! Everyone did back then; we met when I was in first grade which I guess meant you were in third grade, but I already said that…" Gilbert thanked his quick uptake that he could keep up with the man. The energy that came with Feliciano could rival his own when he was in an awesome mood. Perhaps Gilbert had unintentionally been the one to train Ludwig for his eventual meeting with Feliciano. That what big brothers did after all, right? Well, he wasn't one to ask at the moment, but he was sure he was as awesome a brother as awesome could be!

"You first talked to me because you had a crush on my brother, Lovino! It was so cute! I remember Lovino talking about you at home and you really wouldn't leave him alone…" Gilbert wondered what other kinds of small details like this of his past that he would never get back. Would he be grateful that some of them would never be remembered? He couldn't imagine such a thing at the moment when all Gilbert wanted was to remember, but the idea still seemed like a plausible one. What sort of things had happened to him that he might even be considered lucky for forgetting them?

"You grew out of it, as far as I know and your family moved that year too, so I didn't see you for a long while after that…" Feliciano was still talking and Gilbert was still thinking. Past embarrassments? Heartbreak even? He had lost memories of family and friends… did he even want to remember them? If they weren't with him now should he want to remember why? "Then we ran into each other at that bar you work at - worked at - and that's when you introduced me to Ludwig, who had dropped by for some reason or another…"

Gilbert couldn't decide what was better, remembering everything from his past or having the chance to start anew without the pesky attachments. His heart said he wanted the memories, but his head told him that may not be the best idea… Maybe he should just be grateful to have this chance to forget everything… but he couldn't. Not when he was so curious. Not when he felt like he was missing so many important things. "Gilbert?"

Gilbert's attention snapped up. He had been staring at his feet and hadn't noticed the conversation dwindle. "Sorry Feli. What was that?"

Feliciano gave a sweet smile. "I was just checking to see if you were alright. You've been silent for a while." Ludwig was looking at him with concern and Gilbert's face turned darker with a blush.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." But Gilbert didn't feel fine. Nothing felt fine. He felt lost and confused. He felt like something was missing. It was the feeling as if everyone was trying their best to help on something important but he was sitting on the sidelines, not doing a thing. He was torn between remembering and forgetting. Gilbert just felt… wrong.

"Hey, but I thought you were a girl?" Gilbert laughed his troubles off, surprised at how easy lying off his discomfort and unhappiness was. "I thought Elizabeta was a boy. I sound like I was constantly confused when I was younger." Another laugh.

But even now, he still felt constantly confused.

-/-

The next morning Gilbert woke wondering if he would have anymore visitors today. He still had the same lost feeling rattling around his head as he stared at his empty room, still laying in bed in the exact position he had woken in. He had been laying there for five minutes. He still wanted to remember and he still wasn't sure if it would be better if he would just forget.

Finally, Gilbert slipped out from under the blankets piled on top of each other that helped keep warm in the winter months. His feet felt cold when they were no longer tucked in the toasty home of the bed so he tip-toed over to his sock drawer, digging through until he found a bright red pair. He frowned at the socks, the color somehow putting him off, and threw them back in, shuffling around until he came up with a pair of black ones. Then he crept to his door which he opened quietly. Despite his brother being an early riser, Gilbert often found himself up even before him, so he tip-toed around to not wake him.

Today he wondered if he should go jump on his little brother's bed to wake him up. It sounded like fun and he smiled at the idea as he padded down the hallway. Then, he froze, midway to the kitchen and completely unaware at first as to why his feet had stopped him. That's when he smelled it…

An aroma wafted into the hallway; it was sugary and sweet. There was a hint of flour that mixed in it all and Gilbert could practically imagine the fluffy breakfast treats being tossed on a griddle a few steps away in the next room. He had no recollection of it but the sweet smell made him nauseous. A chill ran up his spine and, before anything else could register, Gilbert spun on his heals in retreat for the bathroom at the end of the hallway. He made it in time and somehow remembered to stop to slam the door closed and lock it before he heaved into the toilet bowl whatever contents of last night's dinner still remained in his stomach.

Pancakes! Our favourite!

Gilbert was shaking and stone cold. He spread his hands out on the tile flooring of the bathroom and focused on steadying his breathing. Then the soft voice invaded his thoughts again.

Our favorite!

Dry heaving was even worse than the original heaving.

This pain, he didn't want this pain. Why did it hurt? Why did he feel empty at the same time, as if all hope had been washed from his mind long ago? Why did Gilbert just want to curl up on those cool tiles below him and never rise again? How was so much pain able to flood his body at a few short words said by a soft and sweet voice? Why did the smell beyond that room make him so nauseous, enough that he was only now hearing his brother's persistent knocking on the door. Ludwig was worried, but Gilbert couldn't do anything at the moment. It was all too much.

He hunched over and held either side of his head. Tears were streaming down his face. He was safe, wasn't he? He had made sure he was safe.

Is this what love brings? Pain… suffering… loss…

His own voice rang through his head now and Gilbert recognized the words. They were the words that had protected him. It was the truth he had forced himself to forget to protect himself from the memories of it all.

Love did this. It hurt. It corrupted. It poisoned. He couldn't love anyone. He couldn't let anyone love him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, trying to escape the world and the constant banging at the door and the smell of vomit and whatever terrible sugary sweet came from the kitchen.

Gilbert knew now. He remembered.

Gilbert remembered enough now to know that he never even wanted to remember.