Le Gasp! It is part zwei oAo!
I know Gilbert is so OOC, but hey, my fanfic, my destroying of his awesome. I wanted an emo Prussia for a change o3o...
Hopefully this clears up any plot holes from the last chapter...we are time traveling...96 years ago :).
I feel that this is crappier than the last D: Mfft. Whatever :/
August 8th 1914
Scheisse, scheisse, scheisse!
The warm summer wind lashed bitterly against his skin as he ran across the battlefield with no final destination in mind. He simply knew that he had to find her, even if that meant running through flying bullets and hand grenades.
He clutched his left shoulder where a bullet had wedged itself stubbornly and profusely, sending sharp jabs of pain throughout the left side of his body. But he didn't care. Finding Alice was the most important thing at the moment.
Goddammit! He cursed as he fought back the stinging tears that filled his eyes.
"Dammit, Gilbert! Where the hell do you think you are going!" His younger brother called from the trenches.
Gilbert ignored him. Fuck it all. Why did he even agree to this? Was his own pride worth hurting the only person to truly love him? Was his ambition greater than his love for Alice? Were pride, honor, and glory worth breaking a promise to someone you loved?
No, no temporary honor is worth breaking a promise.
Of course it is, jackass. Promises are meant to be broken. How do you know she loves you anyway? You've never been loved in your life. How could you possibly know what it's like to love?
You trust her. You know she doesn't go back on a promise. Unlike you. You are immoral. Flawed. She's perfect. You can't possibly doubt her.
Fuck it all. What do you know about perfection? You aren't perfect. Ludwig isn't perfect. Nobody is. Not even her. Look at your wrists. The pink scars and the old rusty scabs are proof you aren't perfect. You do this to yourself because you can't stand to see the perfect unmarred skin. You think that because you aren't perfect, your wrists shouldn't be perfect either.
You are fucked up. You are a mess. You need her and you know it.
Another bullet made straight impact with his right kidney. He doubled over coughing up crimson ribbons of blood, but promptly dismissed it as being unimportant. Someone else was more hurt than he was. There was no time for him to whine about his own injuries. They weren't important at all. Especially when the other person's injuries were his own fault.
Gilbert kept running as fast as his body would allow him to. He saw the remains of a burnt down Belgian village and picked up his pace. He was almost there. He could sense her presence.
Desperately, he called for Alice, but no one answered. Even more frantically, he went around all the small houses and burst every single door open. She was there, somewhere. He knew it.
Gilbert stood before a house that was far more battered than the rest. The walls and windows had large gaping holes on the sides from bullets that were shot from both the inside and the outside of the home. After he kicked the door down, he saw that the interior was splattered with both dried and fresh blood. The entire floor smelled like death.
For a second the house seemed empty, until he saw a something, or rather someone, lying on the living room floor. A woman. Her short blond hair was caked in dried blood, some of it hers, some of it someone else's. She was wearing a tattered sun-dress stained with rusty blotches. Her breathing was shallow.
Gilbert felt his eyes widen.
"Alice!" He shouted.
He wasn't running anymore, his knees were weak and he was breathing heavily now. In his mind, that meant he wasn't going to remain conscious much longer. Each step he took faltered more than the last one, but he managed to make it to her side.
Alice wasn't Alice anymore. She was simply a barely breathing lump smothered in blood. The vibrant gleam that gave her bright green eyes a certain vigor was replaced by a murky cloud making them look like death had taken it away from her. She was covered in red splotches from her face, right down to in between her legs. Gilbert noticed that she has been more than just wounded.
"Go away." Alice rasped.
He knew she hated him. "I'm sorry,"
" I don't care. I don't want to see you again." Warum bist du ueberhaupt noch hier?
With an overwhelming sense of guilt, he picked her up and held her against his chest. "I'm sorry..." He mumbled as the acid tears that he had fought to keep back spilled from his eyes. "I'm sorry." Her pulse slowed down even more. "Who did this?"
"You did."
His eyes widened at the accusation. He did this? He beat her, raped her, and-
Your army did this. That means you gave them the order. You really did this to her.
The tears rolled down his cheeks faster than before. He had never cried in his life. Not when he was hurt in battle. Not when his grandfather died. Not when his mother died. Not when his father died. So why was he breaking down now?
"I didn't mean-"
"Shut up. I don't wanna hear you anymore!" She cried, black, dirty tears rolling down her cheeks as well. "You don't mean it. You are just a cheating, lying bastard. Just like every other man!"
Startled, he put her back down gently.
"Fine. Let me just get you some help before I leave and I pro-" he stopped. He couldn't make promises anymore. Especially after the one he just broke. "you'll never see me again."
"Don't bother."
"I can't watch you die."
"You already killed me."
"You are a cruel woman." Du bringst mich um mit jedem Wort. Ich hasse dass ich dich liebe.
"You are a cruel man."
"You love to destroy me, don't you? That's what makes you cruel."
"I hate you."
" I know you do." He got up and made his way towards the door. His wounds didn't even hurt anymore.
" Just remember these words. They are the last you'll ever hear from me. Ich hasse mich genauso wie ich liebe dich. Und ich liebe dich viel."
Staggering out the front door, he silently cursed himself.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! She hates you. Why would you even tell her that?
Because you really do love her.
He carried her to her army's camp, ignoring the soldier's questions, simply telling the doctor to treat her wounds, and as soon as that was done, he retreated back to his own camp, despite a few protests begging him to stay to get his own wounds treated. Why they wanted to treat their enemy's wounds, he didn't know, but either way he staggered back to his own camp. As soon as he reached the camp's his body gave way, and he collapsed.
TRANSLATIONS :D!
Scheisse, scheisse, scheisse!: Shit,shit, shit! Keep in mind, while scheisse is literally shit, in German, it is pretty much the equivalent of saying "Dammit!"
Warum bist du ueberhaupt noch hier? Why are you even here at all?
Du bringst mich um mit jedem Wort. Ich hasse dass ich dich liebe. You kill me with every word. I hate that I love you.
Ich hasse mich genauso wie ich liebe dich. Und ich liebe dich viel. I hate myself as much as I love you, and I love you a lot.
A/N: Kinda cheesy, neh? o3o Ah, well, I am just an amateur writer anyhoo.
My god, I suck at romance and angst xD.
