Hello children!
First of all, I am absolutely overwhelmed by the amount of positive feedback! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzily inside to know that people like what I wrote. It's my children that keep me writing~ *sobs*
Prussia: Get it together, Ginge! *SLAP*
Thanks, I needed that. Okay, but I would like to thank my lovely followers and reviews! This one is for my children:
Bleachedwolfrest
Chocolateismylover
Darkwolve
Etherealknight21
Forever In The Fire
Iron Morgan
Joy82407
MemoriesOfTheFlame
LaughInTheFaceOfDanger
Sara Moto
Tragos
theoneformerlyknownasperson
usukfan555
Let your names be forever immortalized in chapter 2 of Dealing With Insanity!
Enjoy, children~!
(bee-tee-dubs, the things in brackets are author's commentary)
Chapter 2:
Gilbert Full-on Attacks Matthew
~Matthew P.O.V.~
Unfortuneately, Gilbert stayed true to his word and carried Matthew all the way to the nearest hospital (ignoring his captive's protests) and ran in all the while shouting "Nurse! Nurse! My friend needs a doctor immediately!"
"Gilbert," Matthew cried, thoroughly embarrassed, trying to get the albino's attention. "I'm fine! It's just a little stomach pain!" He was still denying all the accusations Gilbert threw at him on their way over. No, it was not aliens, possession (someone was sounding like Alfred now), or terrorists (what?), but as long as he did not know about Carlos, Matthew should be fine.
"Your stomach?" Confused, Gilbert paused a moment before starting to yell again. "GOOD GOD MY FRIEND IS PREGNANT!"
"What?" Matthew's squeak went unnoticed, though, as his captor began sprinting down one of the halls and called for a doctor to take "Birdie" to the ER. "Gilbert, you can't just walk in unless it's an emergency."
"Birdie!" He said with an air of disappointment as he slowed down to look at the Canadian in his arms. "This is an emergency! Someone dared to bully mein kleine Birdie!"
Matthew paled. He. . .knows?
But before he could question the albino, he had already kept on running. "Doctor! Help! Someone's pregnanted my Birdie!"
Matthew flushed from pure embarrassment. Just what is wrong with this guy?
~Monsieur Timeskip :{D~
After another ten minutes of Gilbert running around with Matthew in his arms and yelling, the two had been escorted into a room where Gilbert had been assured Matthew would be attended to.
While their doctor, Dr. D, checked out the injuries pot Matthew's ribs and face and his swollen neck, Gilbert held his hand, claiming that he was "too awesome to let Birdie go through such a hard time alone".
Writing something down on a clipboard, Dr. D smiled at the blonde. "We'll Matthew, you have a few bruised ribs and slight swelling on both your chest and neck, but nothing to worry about. For your ribs, I want you to take Motrin as needed, apply an ice pack wrapped in a towel to reduce your swelling, and try to limit any strenuous activity for at least the next one to three days. If you hurt yourself further, you could give yourself a hairline fracture." Matthew swallowed. How am I going to keep from getting beat up for three whole days? It's only Tuesday!
Matthew heard sniffling and looked over to see: Gilbert crying? What. . .the—?
"Give it to me straight, Doc." The albino let out a choked sob. "How long's Birdie got?"
Matthew mentally face-palmed, but the doctor just chuckled.
"Oh, I'd say Mr. Williams has the rest of his life. He'll be just fine." She smiled.
"Oh, Birdie!" Gilbert squealed and hugged him, being careful of his ribs. "Gott sei Dank! I thought that you were a goner!" Wiping his eyes of tears, Gilbert took "his Birdie's" hand again.
Dr. D smiled again and turned to Matthew with a slip of paper. "Here are the steps to treating your ribs and swelling, and suggestions for pain relief medication. Also, keep your little friend on a leash. He's a potential danger to himself and anyone in his near vicinity."
Matthew nodded. He was aware of Gilbert's. . .er. . .talents of discord. In just the hour that Matthew knew the albino, he had disrupted class, kidnapped Matthew, almost caused a traffic accident by running in the middle of an intersection (nearly giving Matthew an aneurism), announced to an entire hospital that Matthew was pregnant, failed to hurdle and knocked over an elderly lady—with a very colorful vocabulary—in a wheelchair, and spilled a box full of syringes across the floor. The Canadian would have to keep an eye on that guy if he valued his life or wanted to have any places left in the city that wouldn't/hadn't ban him. He was lucky that the hospital had not already kicked the duo out or callfor the police for disturbing the peace as it is.
The doctor left with a wink like she knew something the blonde didn't. He turned to Gilbert who currently wore a puzzled expression.
"'your little friend'?" Matthew's palm. . .meet his face. Something tells me you two will get well acquainted over the next while (or at least as long as Gilbert sticks around). Gilbert's jaw dropped and he suddenly grabbed Matthew's arm, shaking it frantically. "I knew it! You are pregnant! WHO IS THE FATHER!?"
Slap.
The albino gasped and a crazy smile broke out on his face. "Will you name him after me?"
SLAP That one ought to leave a mark. . .
"Gilbert, I can assure you with one-hundred-percent certainty that I am not pregnant."
He just nodded solemnly. "Denial. That's a smart route. You really don't want the daddy to know, do you Birdie?"
Slap. "Yes Gilbert, that is exactly why I deny being pregnant—not because I'm male and it is biologically impossible, but because I supposedly don't want the fictional father of my fake child to know about it.
"You caught me, Gilbert." He deadpanned.
Gilbert sighed heavily like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and looked at Matthew seriously. "I knew it."
SLAP
Now that the Canadian's forehead was nice and red from the good amount of face-palming, Matthew was more than ready to escape and save his poor, suffering face. He started to hop down from the uncomfortable paper-covered bed and leave when Gilbert stopped him with a hand on his wrist. He looked at the blonde with what seemed to be an innocent-looking smile, but had a twinkle of mischief. Matthew sighed. He was getting used to that expression much too quickly for a certain Canadian's taste.
Gilbert could barely hold in the grin as he asked "honestly", "When are you gonna start showing?" But before Birdie could form a reply, the albino snatched and lifted up the hem of his victim's shirt and placed a hand on his stomach.
Matthew struggled to keep his expression neutral as frigid air conditioning and a stranger's palm hit his unsuspecting skin but was useless against the giggle that escaped his lips from the touch. He instantly covered his mouth and backed up, leaving a slightly confused Gilbert.
"C-come on, Gilbert. We still have school for the rest of the day today." As he headed for the door Matthew sent a quick prayer to the gods of the idiots to make Gilbert forget entirely about the traitorous laugh. Who knows what Gilbert would do if he found out I'm super—
"Are you ticklish Birdie?"
Maple! Oh, maple-hockey-Celine-Dion-polar-bears! Okay, okay, calm down Matt, grace under pressure! "N-no. . ." Maple!
A concerning silence ensued and Matthew was an odd mixture of hopeful (that he wouldn't care), terrified (that he would), and curious (as to what was taking so long for Gilbert to reply). Slowly turning about, Matthew saw the very last thing he ever wanted to see—alongside an empty bottle of maple syrup—a quite obvious (which was so much scarier than when he would disguise it under an innocent smirk) malicious grin and a look in his eye that screamed "RUN, YOU FOOL!" Gilbert crept forward and held his hands up in a prime ticking position. Matthew needed to further inventive to book it out of there before the Prussian glomped him.
He ran through the halls of the hospital and ignored the nurses that said something to the affect of "No running, this is a hospital!" most likely directed to the other of the two (the one that was not "invisible") when he heard eerie, sing-songy calls of "Birdie~" ringing through hallways with unusually good acoustics.
Matthew began sprinting even faster when Gilbert called, sounding creepily close to him, "I'm going to get you, mein Birdie~!" Using whatever strength the somewhat weak [Matthew: "Hey!" *slaps author* Ginge: TT_TT "sorry. . ." Matthew: "No you're not." Ginge: "Yeah, I'm really not!"] Canadian had left, Matthew got a burst of energy and ran ahead of the persuer. He rounded a corner and threw open the door of the first room he saw—he closed the door as swiftly and quietly as humanly possible and covered his ,outh with both hands to silence his heavy breathing. Matthew waited until he heard running steps pass by and fade away. Sighing, Matthew glanced around to figure out where he was—a janitor's closet?—and sat on the floor in the corner.
How long should I wait before leaving? He wondered, slowing his breath. I certainly do not want to run into Gilbert after spending so much time hiding from him. . . Matthew was so absorbed in pondering this that he almost did not notice the door open. His first thought was: Oh no, the janitor will think I'm some kind of punk stealing stuff! I'm too young to go to prison! (Okay, so Matthew tended to overreact a little.)
"Oh I am so soory sir I did not mean to barge right in I swear I had no intention of stealing or anything like that I was just hiding from my friend who was chasing me and I suppose I should just go. . ." Matthew stood to leave awkwardly. [Who needs punctuation?]
"I found you, mein kleine Birdie~!"
Matthew froze. "M-maple."
In the doorway stood Gilbert, with an expression looking too much like his cousin Francis's "rape face" [Francis claims that this so-called "rape face" is his normal expression.] (his cousin who hits on everything on two legs with a pulse—and even that was giving him credit) and Matthew could practically feel an anxiety attack coming on.
~Gilbert P.O.V.~
Gilbert watched with sadistic intent as Birdie stood stiffly, mouth agape. Gilbert imagined Birdie was thinking something along the lines of: Oh god of maple syrup! The sexy Gilbert of awesomeness wants to tickle me! Oh how my existence would be made awesome from his fingers' touch alone, eh! [Imagine a Canadian accent.] But all Gilbert could really think about was how nice Birdie looked when he laughed—much better than him crying. Gilbert was considering calling him by his given name, Matthew, but when he heard that little chirping laugh it was decided definitely that he would eternally be Birdie. There was not doubt now that the Canadian was his Birdie.
Gilbert took a step forward and help up his hands, making his voice low and serial-killer-esque. "Time for. . .The Tickling."
Birdie started to panic. "P-please Gilbert, don't!"
A step forward.
Gilbert shook his head, keeping his expression grave. "It's too late Birdie. The Tickling has already begun."
Another step.
"Gilbert, I mean this seriously. If you tickle me I am not responsible if I accidentally hurt you."
Step.
Gilbert wasn't sure if Birdie was being serious about that warning or not, but curiosity had taken over and Gilbert was powerless against the desire to tickle him. He pounced on the Canadian, who emitted a surprised yelp, and pinned him to the floor.
"Eeep!"
Gilbert wasted no time in attacking his stomach and sides. Birdie laughed hysterically and his face turned red, Gilbert couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. Yeah, I'm so awesome that I can make him laugh! [This is molestation, Gilbert. It counts as neither legitimate laughter nor "l'amour~" (somewhere Francis is sneezing)] Birdie weakly tried to push the Prussian off of him, much to his assaulter's amusement. In one fluid motion, Gilbert slid off Birdie's shoe and tickled the bottom of his foot. As if an instinct his foot kicked out, hitting Gilbert in the chest.
Birdie instantaneously erupted in (giggle-ridden) apologies. "Oh my gaw-hah-sh Gilbert -hah- I'm s-hah-so sor-hah-sorry!"
"I brought it on myself." Gilbert grumbled and winced imperceptibly. Heilige Scheiße Birdie! You've got some kick!
Then suddenly. . .
"And I'm proud to be an American~!
"Where at least I know I'm free~!" rang through the quiet.
"Th-that's A-hah-Alfred!" Birdie gasped, reaching for a cell phone that had slipped from his pocket.
Hesitantly, Gilbert got off of him [You were lying on top of him, Gilbert? You dirty pervert.] to allow Birdie to answer the call.
"Hello, Matthew speaking." He said (well, whispered, really) breathlessly into the speaker.
An obnoxious voice emanated through the phone. "Haaaaaaaaaaaaaay Mattie! Where aaaaare yoooooooou?"
"Oh, I'm—"
"You weren't in Sanchez's claa~aass, broha!" The voice (Alfred, was it?) interrupted impatiently.
Birdie's expression grew joyful. "Y-you noticed I wasn't in class?" Gilbert was legitimately surprised. He's happy because his brother saw that he wasn't in class? If I missed, I would make sure everyone knew about it.
"Of course!" The loud voice laughed. "The HERO needs someone to do his homework! Ha-ha!"
His Birdie's face fell. "Oh, yeah, I suppose. . ."
Gilbert's fists clenched. Who dares to make mein kleine Birdie sad?! And using him like this to do their homework? Brother or not, un-for-freaking-givable!
"I'll probably get back to school in—" But then Gilbert snatched the phone away and started to talk to whoever was on the other end.
"Hallo Dummkopf, who is this?"
If the voice was at all deterred by the stranger talking into the line or being called an idiot in German, it didn't show. "This is the hero, Alfred F. Jones! Who's this?"
"Gilbert."
~Alfred P.O.V.~
Alfred had called his brother with the intention of getting the answers to the class work. The hero sure was lucky that Mattie had history with him—truth be told, Alfred was completely lost in US History! As far as he was concerned, America was totally the hero and all the other countries should just be back-up!
So when some dude not Mattie started talking, he was confused. First he wasn't at school then someone Alfred didn't recognize had his bro's phone? Weird! "This is the hero, Alfred F. Jones! Who's this?" Who's hangin' with Mattie? As far as he knew, his little bro didn't have any friends! Ya know, other than that demon polar bear, Kuma-whateverhisname. That thing frickin hated him! Yeah, he almost ran it over on accident this one time, so what?
"Gilbert." He answered simply.
Alfred swallowed. He seriously hoped it wasn't Gilbert Beilschimidt. That guy was infamous around school for throwing these huge parties, being all popular and crap, alcoholic, and certifiably insane. Why in the Star-Spangled Banner would someone like that chill with Mattie? No offense, but the little dude was kind of a loner. [Matthew: *ahem* offense taken!] Whatever the reason, though, if Beilschmidt was hanging around his lil bro—he'd better back off! ". . .Beilschmidt?"
"Ja."
Alfred grit his teeth. "What are you doing with my bro?" He poured as much venom as he could into the one sentence.
"Hmm. . ." The American could practically hear the mocking smirk. "Well, let's see!"
There was faint static of something (probably the phone) moving around, then Mattie's quiet voice came through the speaker again.
"Gilbert? W-what are you. . .?" Then there was a shrill shriek. "A-ah! Gil— s-stop! Eek! It—ah!—stop!"
Alfred's grip on the phone tightened until he was sure he heard the screen crack. "Beilschmidt!" he screamed. "Don't you dare touch Mattie!" In his peripherals Alfred could barely see passers by staring at the blonde teen who had gone from confused to livid screaming in 0.5 seconds.
A chuckle could be heard on the other end. "Well I'm pretty sure I can do what I want." Then another yelp.
"That's it, Beilschmidt!" he growled. "I'm coming for you— prepare to get your &:) kicked from here to kingdom come!" Violently pressing the "End Call" button, Alfred started up the app that traced his family's cell phones (what Mattie had called the "stalker app") to figure out where Mattie and. . .he were.
His heart felt like it skipped a beat when the little blue dot located Mattie's cell at St. Noble Hospital.
"Alfred, mate, are you alright? You look rather pale." Someone with British accent asked.
Alfred turned to see his friend Arthur and those monster eyebrows of his (affectionately known as Iggy-Brows) looking at him concernedly. Arthur and he had a strange friendship—they could get into fistfights and insult each other's every fault one minute and the next go out for lunch—but they were always there for one another.
"No! I'm not! Mattie is out there with some insane demon guy and I'm flippin' out 'cause it sounded like he was attacking Mattie and I'm flippin' out, man!" Alfred shouted in one breath.
"Alfred, Alfred," Arthur said soothingly, holding his palms out as if that would pacify him. "Settle down. Now, do you know where they are?"
The American started to panic again. "The hospital!"
Arthur's reaction was instantaneous. He took Alfred's arm and headed straight for the office. "Iggy? Where're we goin'?"
Instead of correcting his friend that his name was not "Iggy" as he usually did, Arthur replied calmly "Getting a pass to leave school. We are going to the hospital."
Alfred grinned. He hadn't even thought of that! Iggy always get better at staying calm in tense situations. He fist pumped. "Yeah~! This's why you're my best friend, Iggy!"
"Wanker! (Aw, it's Arthur's nickname for Alfred!) My name is Arthur!"
~Gilbert P.O.V.~
"Well that was fu~n!" Gilbert giggled (awesomely! It was a very manly giggle).
"Yeah. . ." Birdie sighed, sounding exhausted from the amount of laughing he'd been subjected to. He looked up into The Awesomeness's eyes and his cheeks tinted pink. "C-could you please get off me, eh?" he requested quietly.
"Huh?" was his brilliant response. Then Gilbert realized that he was straddling the little Canadian's hips. After that Gilbert certainly did NOT blush! He just. . .got a hot flash from the heating system! [Of course you didn't, Gilbert.] "Sure." He sat back and passed the cell over to its owner who started to sit up.
Birdie gave a shy smile. "Thanks."
And Gilbert most definitely did not stutter from the pure cute smile! "Y-yeah. . ." [Gilbert: "HEY!" *slaps Ginge* Ginge: "Hahaha, what? I didn't put anything that's not true!" Gilbert: "..."]
"I don't think that was such a good idea, Gilbert." The blondes mumbled.
Gilbert felt his head cock. "What?"
"Teasing Al like that." Birdie shook his head, making that curl swish mockingly.
He just snickered and waved a hand dismissively, completely carefree. "Nah, it's fine. What'll that guy really do?"
~Matthew P.O.V.~
Matthew sure hoped that the albino knew what he was getting himself into.
Has Matthew mentioned that when Al actually remembered his brother, he was ridiculously protective of him? And that he was captain of the football team and head quarterback? Lets just hope that Gilbert would not find that out the hard way.
Translations: (German)
mein kleine - my little
Gott sei Dank - Thank God
Heilige Scheiße - Holy crap
Hallo Dummkopf - Hello idiot
Ja - yes
Whew! I finally got that posted! Now I know what you're probably thinking: This kid is a beast! How did Ginge get two chapters out in two days?
Well, first of all: I have no friends. No, seriously. Okay, that's not totally true. My two friends didn't want to hang out with me. TT_TT
Second, it's Thanksgiving Break for my American people! When school starts up again I will try to get at the most a chapter per week, but I'll do the best I can!
Censoring Alfred's mouth courtesy of Matthew!
Matt: *shrugs* "What! Al needs to tone down his language!"
Al: "What the %# are you talkin' about? My language is £*$ fine!"
Matt: ". . . I rest my case."
PS- This is NOT a PruCan fic! Hence the "friendship" label! Buuuuuuut~ I may or may not make romance fics eventually~ ;D
I apologize for any OOCness! Review please! Stay tuned for the next chapter in which Gilbert discovers how strong a football player is! (Get your mind out of the gutter, yaoi fans!)
~Ginge