Ludwig immediately recognised the man as being Matthews brother immediately, they were near identical in appearance saving differing hairstyles. He moved across the room towards him, holding tightly onto the documents with one hand, the other outstretched to the seated man.
"Alfred, Ja?" He presented his hand firmly, "I am Ludwig Beilschmidt."
Alfred looked back with slightly glazed eyes. "Sorry, do I know you?"
Ludwig dropped his hand down to his side, instead turning to sit down in an adjacent plastic seat. His large hands crumpling the paper, setting deep creases across the text. "Nein, you don't know me. I know your brother. Mein Bruder… ist…"
Alfred's large blue eyes widened slightly with realisation, a nearly inaudible gasp left his lips. "He's having the surgery now."
They both sat in the silence of each other's company for a while.
Ludwig wondered why Alfred was alone. Surely having such a major surgery, you would want all your family here. Perhaps the situation was complicated like Gilbert's, but he couldn't imagine the quiet, polite Mathieu being disowned by his family.
"Uh, can I ask what's going to happen with… the, err…" Ludwig turned to look as Alfred started speaking, "I mean, is there going to be a funeral?"
Funeral? It almost felt insensitive, if it weren't for the idiotic yet sincere look to his eyes.
"Nein." According to the papers in his hands his brothers ashes would be sent back to Germany in a plastic Tupperware. It felt surreal. It had been years since he'd seen his brother, actually seen him. Live and well.
"Ah, sorry. I shouldn't have asked. Err, if you do decided to do anything. Matt and I, once he is all better I mean. If he doesn't… We'd want to go."
The smile stretched across Ludwig's face slowly, forcefully. Gilbert had never been good at keeping friends. He could think of maybe a handful of people he would invite to the funeral, and of that he doubted even two would actually go.
He waited with Alfred a while longer. Sensing his presence brought some kind of comfort to him, despite not knowing what to say.
Ludwig stayed with him for just over an hour before finally leaving. Telling himself it was to comfort the man he didn't even know. He now found himself stood in front of the door to Gilbert's apartment.
He tucked a collapsible box under one arm. Hand trembling slightly as he inserted the key, it took all his will power to maintain composure. Inside the rooms felt empty and sterile, his brother kept little furniture as fewer personal belongings. Ludwig sighed, at least it would be difficult to organise it and send to auction.
The bedroom was a little different, if only slightly. Clothes hung neatly on an exposed rail, delivering a little personality. A single photo sat framed on the bedside table. Lifting up, Ludwig stared back at himself from the image tightly gripping a glass beer stein. His brother stood a few inches shorter, arm draped over his shoulders, free hand raising a toast. The Gilbert in the image grinned shamelessly. Without needing to remove the photo from the frame to know that he'd find Gilbert's rushed writing on the back. It would read 'Ludwig's first drink! 3.10.20XX', taken two years before he left. He remembered posing for the photo, but it was his first time actually seeing it printed.
Placing the frame into the empty box he turned to the clothing rack. Out on display, the first shirt was a signed band tee. When they were teens he'd been jealous of this shirt. Not that he let that on to his brother. Ludwig had told their grandfather when he found out that Gilbert had snuck out to the concert and he'd received a terrible beating for it. Along with a few other items it was neatly folded and packed into his box.
"Seriously, Bruder?" When he looked the fridge contained nothing but beers. Retrieving one he sat in the single chair at the counter. Fishing the frame out of his box he stood it upright. Lifting his beer to the image he drank.
