My updates have been so sporadic. And I'm afraid they will continue to be so.
When it started to get dark again, he turned and headed back home through the snow. Feliciano was there waiting when he walked up to the door.
"Ve~ Doitsu, you must be cold!" he said. He grabbed Ludwig's hand and led him to the couch. Feliciano wrapped a blanket around his shoulders as soon as he sat down and went into the kitchen. He soon came back with a bowl of hot soup. "Here, Doitsu." Feliciano handed him the bowl and watched him anxiously. The heat of the bowl in his hands pulled Ludwig from his thoughts.
"Oh…thanks, Feli." Feliciano smiled and sat down next to him, watching as he ate. When he finished, Feliciano took the bowl and went back into the kitchen.
Ludwig stared ahead of himself, old memories of time spent with his bruder filling his thoughts. No matter what he tried, he couldn't get Gilbert out of his head. He kept thinking of the older man, wondering what he was doing, if he was alright, how he was handling living with Russia. The tall, violet-eyed nation had cheerfully dragged Gilbert away, despite the albino's protests. Ludwig had let it happen. He thought it might teach his bruder some discipline, something he desperately needed to learn. Their world was not the same anymore. Gilbert couldn't go around killing and seizing other nations' lands like he used to. He had paid the consequences of his actions with the loss of his country. Ludwig had barely managed to keep him from death by giving him control over part of Germany. Though neither of them spoke of it, Gilbert was grateful to Ludwig for wanting to keep him around. The dissolution of Prussia had hurt him badly. He needed to know someone still cared.
Ludwig put his head in his hands. He regretted not stopping Russia from taking his bruder. Sure, it might not have made much of a difference, but he could have at least tried. Gilbert had found him and raised him, given him a new name and a family, someone to care about and someone who would care about him. Regrets and past mistakes would get him nowhere, though. He'd let his brother go without a fight and now they were both paying for it. Germany was in debt so deep Ludwig doubted he'd ever get out of it. Parts of his land had been taken from him and given to others. That was why Gilbert had been taken. Russia had been granted control over Eastern Germany, the part Gilbert controlled. What's more, soon after Gilbert had been taken, Russia had built that dreadful wall between them, right through the heart of his beloved Berlin.
He wasn't the only one suffering now. Hundreds of families had been torn apart, separated by meters of barbed wire, imposing stone walls, and armed Russian guards. Every day, some of his and Gilbert's citizens tried to get past the wall in any way they could, wanting so badly to get back to their families and friends. Some of them succeeded. Many of them didn't. Ludwig's attention was so focused on the wall, that he felt every death like a knife to his heart. He could only imagine the pain Gilbert was feeling.
Some time later, Feliciano came out into the living room to find Ludwig sleeping on the couch. He walked over to the tall nation and gently removed his gloves, boots, and jacket, then he moved Ludwig into a more comfortable position and tucked the blanket around him. He gave Ludwig one more sorrowful glance and turned the light out as he left the room.
Ludwig slept restlessly and was up before the sun. He looked over at the clock and saw it was five am. He stood and made his way to the bathroom in the dark. As he washed his hands, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was a mess and his blue eyes looked haunted, deep shadows hanging under them. He combed his fingers through his hair and went back to the living room, where he pulled on his boots, gloves, and jacket before he left the house. He headed back to the wall in the gathering light, and by the time the sun had risen behind the clouds, he was once again standing before it.
He couldn't help going to it every morning. It was the very symbol of the mistakes he had made, the pain he had suffered and the losses he'd experienced. It was stained with the blood of so many innocent lives. He always stayed until dark, sometimes very late into the night. Every day, he longed for some sign from Gilbert, saying that his brother was alright; a note, a word, even the sound of his voice would do. But he heard only silence from the other side.
He turned his head and watched as a middle-aged woman came up alongside him and beat her fists against the wall until they bled, screaming for them to let her see her son. Two young men ran up to her, likely other sons, and dragged her away. She struggled against them, yelling hoarsely to let her go, until they picked her up and carried her away. Ludwig stood there until the sound of her screams had died away. He drew off one glove and touched her blood on the wall, already beginning to freeze. This was all his fault. He knew that, and there was no one else to blame. He was causing his people, and therefore himself and his brother, immense pain by his refusal to act. The woman and her sons hadn't even seen him standing there.
He was all alone now. Austria and Hungary no longer came to see him, kept away by their bosses and the Allied powers. Only Feliciano had refused to leave him, crying and clinging to him after Gilbert had been taken. If it wasn't for the smaller nation, Ludwig might have very well starved on his own. He only ate when the brunet forced him to.
Ludwig continued to stand there staring at the wall, barely noticing the wind as it ruffled his hair. He turned and walked along the wall, still staring at it as the snow crunched under his boots. He reached out and ran his gloved fingers over it. He sighed.
"Bruder…I hope you're okay."
Gilbert stared up at the wall, the sky gray beyond its edge. He punched the concrete, and let the tears run down his face as he slid to the ground.
"Ludwig…I need you."