Happy Holidays, everyone! I wish you all a merry whatever-applies-to-you. Here, have a long chapter.

Also, a warning, I guess. Hungary makes an appearance. She also might continue to make small appearances here and there during the story. I just want to say right here that there IS NOT going to be anything between her and Gil, okay? Nothing more than maybe friendship. So please no freaking out.

Read, review, enjoy.


Gilbert stared at the white, unassuming door for what felt like a long time. In his mind, the minutes were piling up into hours, and it was starting to feel like perhaps his feet had been cemented to the ground. He couldn't figure out why he wasn't moving.

In reality, it had probably only been a couple of minutes. But it was early in the morning – at least by Gilbert's standards – and the time he spent standing there was starting to amount to what Gilbert considered too much.

At least he could attribute that weird lead-like feeling in his legs to the early hour. He probably couldn't move properly because he wasn't fully awake yet.

Gilbert shifted his weight and ground his teeth. He hated when he found himself doubting his own resolve. He had decided late last night – perhaps after one to many beers – that he'd come back and see Matthew. He didn't know if it was because he wanted to resume the random stream of pointless visits, or if it was because he wanted to fully and conclusively stop the whole thing, using this last visit as the final goodbye. All he had known upon waking up that morning, groggy and irritated, was that he was going to force himself to get here early. He wanted to make sure he'd have enough time for whatever shit it was he felt needed to be done so that he'd no longer be plagued by that wretched 'depressing' feeling.

That plan didn't seem to be working out too well. Gilbert found that out when he had turned the corner at the end of the hall and suddenly found his footsteps faltering and his mind filled with useless excuses.

"Okay Gilbert, are you really this fucking pathetic?" he mumbled to himself. "Aren't you supposed to be Captain Awesome? 'Cause you sure as hell ain't acting like it now, standing outside of this goddamn door, talkin' to yourself like you should be in one of 'em other kinds of hospitals. Fuck."

Taking a deep breath, Gilbert pushed aside all those thoughts and stepped forwards, grasping the cool doorknob in a firm grip. "Right, so, here goes nothing." Then, with on last push of mental resolve, he twisted the knob and finally stepped through the door.

Habit immediately kicked in and Gilbert opened his mouth to say some kind of inconsequential greeting, but for some reason the words got stuck before they made their way out. Instead, Gilbert was left standing there, small frown on his face, staring at Matthew's back.

The patient had once again moved (or been moved) to a different position. He was on his side facing away from the door. Gilbert huffed a little, and then found his feet moving him to the other side of the room. He grabbed his chair as he passed it and carried it along with him.

"Hey Matthew," he managed to say as he sat himself down across from the other man. He took one good look at the pale face before turning his head away, eyes fixed on the window which showed the cold autumn sky. "I... I know it's been a little while, and I mean, you probably didn't notice it." For some reason Gilbert hoped Matthew hadn't noticed it. "But you know, I had, uh, things I was doing. And... I was busy. So yeah."

He gritted his teeth as his gaze flickered back over to Matthew. Despite the obvious lack of reaction, and regardless of the fact that the guy probably couldn't even hear him, Gilbert felt a morsel of guilt eating away at him for his excuses.

It came as a bit as a surprise when it suddenly became a little too much for him. And really, who was he kidding? There was no one here to impress.

"Okay, fuck," he exclaimed, tossing his head back and crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm being so fucking unawesome right now. Look, the real reason I stopped visiting is that, I dunno, I guess I realized that you're probably gonna die." He breathed out harshly, feeling foolish for his confession, but a little bit better for speaking truthfully. "I didn't want to have spent all this time only for you die in the end, you know? It's like, if you don't make it, it's going to suck, but at least if I don't know you that well, it'll suck less. For me. 'Cause I won't really have any connection to ya' or anything." He drew a hand through his hair. "Jesus Christ, I sound pathetic."

Gilbert's eyes travelled from the unexciting ceiling back down to where Matthew lay, taking in his willowy features and too-prominent skeletal frame. The man was wasting away, even with the artificial nutrition and medication.

And Gilbert realized that was what he had failed to see – refused to see – on his first few visits here. Matthew wasn't just pale, he was a sickly white. He wasn't just fragile looking, he was skin and bones. This wasn't just something superficial, some inconvenient condition.

Matthew was dying.

Gilbert allowed his tense muscles to relax in the following silence, wondering about how it must feel to be in Matthew's situation. "But you know, it's really gonna suck either way," he found himself saying, words and tone surprisingly light for the turmoil he was feeling inside. "I mean, regardless of what I do – if I stop coming to see ya', or if I don't. The whole dying thing is gonna just plain suck."

Gilbert played with the hem of his uniform as he continued, eyes on his hands.

"And it took arguing with my stupidly uptight brother for me to understand that. That right now, your situation sucks. And it doesn't really seem to me that you got anyone on your side." He raised his gaze to the man on the bed, feeling like he suddenly had some purchase on slippery slope of confusion and gloominess he had been sliding down the past week or so. "So I've decided, Mattie, whether you like it or not, I'm gonna stick with ya'. Maybe my awesomeness will rub off on you or something. Give ya' that little kick you need to wake up. And if that doesn't work, there's always my fucking brilliant humour and personality." Gilbert leaned forward and grinned, reaching out to give Matthew a friendly pat on the shoulder. "So don't worry bro, I got'cha covered."

Across from them, the handle of the door turned with a click, door swinging open to reveal a humming nurse. Gilbert froze, hand still resting on Matthew's arm, looking up across the bed at the person now standing still in the doorway, a look a wary surprise on her face.

Not knowing what else to do, Gilbert smiled. "Hey there, how's it go-"

"What are you doing to my patient?"

The smile faltered but stayed in place. "I'm talking to him. You know, like normal people do?" He forced himself not to roll his eyes at the woman's unfriendly behaviour, pulling his hand back from Matthew's shoulder.

She took a few steps into the room, leaving the door open behind her. "I wasn't told he had a visitor at the moment."

"I'm his friend. I come here to talk to him."

"He can't hear you. He's in a coma."

"Yes, I'm perfectly aware of that, thanks. But we're buds, okay?" Until he could determine exactly what was going on, Gilbert settled on being abrasive, but not outrightly rude. "I'm keeping him company. There's nothing wrong with that. And anyways, what are you doing here?"

The woman paused a few feet from the bed, still looking a Gilbert warily, but with less hostility. "I take care of Mister Williams' physical needs. I have been since he was first admitted here." She paused for a moment. "And I've haven't seen you around before. But, judging from your clothes, you work here, right? So I suppose..." She seemed to come to some sort of conclusion, standing up a bit straighter and offering her hand to Gilbert. "Name's Elizaveta Hedevary. Nurse to Mister Williams."

Gilbert blinked few times at the sudden change in behaviour before reaching across to shake Elizaveta's hand. "Gilbert Beilschmidt. Intern. Mattie's friend, kinda." He shrugged, sitting back down. "You're his nurse?" he repeated for confirmation.

She nodded her head, suddenly all business. "Yup, I've been looking after him since he came outta that awful surgery to fix up his shoulder and head a few months back. I cover him twice a day, mornings and evenings." Placing the clipboard she had been holding down on the side desk, she started puttering around the room, checking machines and replacing fluid bags. "And what about you? You say you're his friend? I haven't seen you around before. And like I just said, I've been here a while. Oh, can you hold this for a second." She handed him a clear IV sac, which Gilbert held more out of principal than anything. He watched with a raised eyebrow as the nurse unhooked the old bag and tossed it aside. "So what's the story then?" she asked, turning back and snatching the new bag from his hands, hanging it in the recently vacated spot and reconnecting all the lines.

"The story?"

"Yeah. About you and Mister Williams. Are you really friends?" It was asked a bit skeptically, but not with any unkindness.

Gilbert scoffed. "Well yeah." He paused then, noting Elizaveta's doubtful look over her shoulder as she pressed a few buttons on the mechanical ventilator. "I mean, I come visit him when I can, but sometimes I can get caught up with work and things." He didn't deign to say what 'things' were, but he was acutely aware of his reason to visit this morning and his uncertainties over the past week. "It's just that comas suck, you know, so my bro here needs some awesomeness to lighten things up."

"I'm sure he does."

"You better not be discountin' my abilities, 'kay? Mattie totally appreciates my efforts." He stuck out his tongue for good measure even though Elizaveta was facing the other way. Gilbert had figured in this brief discussion that this woman seemed chill enough for at least a little bit of banter.

She turned around to face Gilbert, a curious glint in her eyes. "So you knew Williams before the accident, then? How's he like?"

Gilbert pursed his lips, shaking his head. "Uh, actually, funny enough, no. I didn't know him. So I don't really know what he's like, but he seems like he's be a pretty cool dude, you know."

She titled her head to the side, giving Gilbert a dubious look. "If you've never actually... How does this friend thing work with you?"

"It's complicated." Gilbert wondered if she'd press the matter. "Call it a personal project. Just trying to help a guy in need."

Elizaveta stared at him for a moment before seeming to drop the subject. "Okay, I guess. Too bad though." She moved on to the last life support device, making a quick note of Matthew's heart rate on her clipboard before coming back towards Gilbert. "I would have liked to have known someone who met Williams before the accident. Other than his parents, of course. Only talked to them once. A weird couple. Always seemed a bit lost whenever I mentioned their son." She put her hands on her hips. "And did you know he has a brother? If it hadn't been noted in Williams' files I wouldn't have been the wiser."

"Wait, you met his fucking parents?"

Elizaveta frowned. "Yes. Like I said, they were a bit on the strange side when it came to their children."

Gilbert was standing up now, vying to get as much information as possible. "So you know the fuckers-"

"Why do you keep swearing?" Elizaveta interrupted, having stopped writing on the clipboard to look fully at him. "Is there something wrong with Williams' parents that I missed? I thought you said you didn't know them. They seemed for the most part normal. Just somewhat distanced from their children."

"Their kid is in the hospital and they're not even here to look after him. I think there's something pretty fucking wrong with that, don't you?"

She shuffled her feet, looking a little taken aback. "Well I don't quite know what the situation is, but like I said, they were pretty distant. I think Williams and his brother were adopted, and at a late age, too. You know how that is. It's hard enough for parents to connect to teenagers that they themselves raised, let alone ones that they only just met." She moved over to his side of the bed, where Matthew was facing.

"I'm not trying to defend them or anything," she relented as she stopped next to him. "I think they should be here as well, regardless of how long a recovery takes, but I just don't think it's right for you to get on someone's case about a situation you don't know the full details of." She shook her head, putting on a bit of a lighter tone. "And anyways, they're still paying for his health bill, so at least there's that."

Gilbert rolled his eyes, not liking being told off, but not willing to lay too much into this nurse in case of being demanded to leave. "Yeah, well, they're still assholes to me." He had just gotten the conviction to continue visiting the guy, he couldn't risk having that taken away now. "Them and that brother of his."

"Yes, well if I'm being honest here, you seem like the kind of guy who considers most people around him to be assholes."

Gilbert snorted, deciding to let the subject drop for the time being. "What can I say, it's hard being this awesome sometimes."

Elizaveta rolled her eyes, but continued to humour him. "Right, and I'm to assume that it's a kind of awesomeness that only awesome people can see, right?"

Gilbert grinned. "You know, you're not too bad. Thought you might be one of em' uptight sticks in the mud like my brother, but so far you're doing all right."

"I'm glad I passed the test," she retorted. "Now look, I have to finish with my morning tasks here. I've still got another three to go after Williams. So if-"

"Can I ask you a question," Gilbert interrupted, fully intending to follow through regardless of the answer he got.

Elizaveta looked a little miffed at being cut off, but hummed in accession anyway. "Yes, what?"

"Why do you call him Williams?" He motioned in the direction of the bed. "What's wrong with the name Matthew?"

She quirked her head to the side, obviously not expecting the nature of the question. "Well it's because, I suppose, that I was taught never to get too attached to my patients." She shrugged as if this was obvious. "I've found one way of doing that to be by calling them by their last name."

Gilbert opened his mouth to retort, but found himself remembering Ludwig's warning about attachment. It actually seemed to be the norm in this line of work to stay distanced from those around him. He shook the thought away. "Oh, right. Well whatever. Just wondering."

She gave him a brief quizzical look before shrugging again. "Okay, well since you're still here, and because as I've said, I've got other patients to attend to, want to help me finish up withy morning tasks?" She turned towards Matthew. "First I've got to move him back onto his back."

"Wait, that was you who kept switching 'round his positions?"

"Yes. We have to keep them from getting bedsores." Elizaveta shifted the thin blanket down past Matthew's waist, placing her hands on his shoulder and upper leg. "Every morning and evening, we move or help move comatose patients to a new position. We also have to brush hair, brush teeth, help clean- you know, the usual tasks. There's typically family members around to help with that kind of stuff, but well..." She trailed off, looking up to Gilbert who was standing there, eyebrows raised. "Anyway, I can do it all on my own, but I have spent a lot of my allotted time talking to you. So if you'd want to help, that would be great. Just things like keeping his hair out of the way, you know."

Turning back, she gently pushed Matthew onto his back, quickly and efficiently fixing the blanket around him and pulling it back up to his chest. Matthew didn't so much as stir at the movements.

Gilbert shook his head, trying not to feel disappointment at the fact that Matthew hadn't been moving on his own. If he were to be truthful, though, he was actually feeling a bit overwhelmed by the amount of information this nurse woman was giving him. He thought he had handle on this whole comatose-persistent-vegetative-state thing, but the past quarter of an hour had just gone to show how much he was really out of his league here. Elizaveta was treating everything with a professional kind of composure, and Gilbert found himself feeling a little like a kid who had wandered into the wrong section at a department store.

Finally realizing that Elizaveta was likely waiting on him for an answer, Gilbert painted a quick grin onto his face and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, sure. Sounds like a party." He was actually a bit surprised at his agreement to help, but knew he couldn't very well sit by and continue to be useless. "I'm not that big of jerk, now, am I? Holding back hair: I've got ya' covered."

She smiled. "Great, thanks. I'll just be right back."

Leaving through the open side door – Gilbert could see that it was a small washroom – Elizaveta quickly returned with a hair brush, toothbrush, and toothpaste in one hand and a glass of water and tissue paper in another. "I'll do his teeth first, so all you have to do is keep his hair out of his face. Oh here." She handed him the glass of water. "Can you hold this too. It'll make it easier for me. Thanks."

Gilbert tried to keep the small frown off his face, but she obviously noticed his discomfort when she dipped the toothbrush in the water "Yeah, it's a bit weird, isn't it?"

"Hmm, what?" Gilbert drew his attention away from Matthew and over to the nurse.

"This. It's weird, right? Almost uncomfortable, having to preform basic needs for someone who should be capable of doing it themselves." Elizaveta reached over to gently grab Matthew chin, pushing away his lips to access the teeth. "Hair," she commanded, not even looking in Gilbert's direction.

Gilbert grunted, but quickly moved to the other side of the bed, trying not to look too hesitant when reaching over to swipe Matthew's hair away from his face.

"Oh you can do better than that," Elizaveta said, seeming almost amused by Gilbert's actions. "It's not like Williams cares, and you did say you were good to help."

"I'm fucking working on it, jeez." Gilbert held back a sigh and focused on brushing the rest of Matthew's hair back with what he hoped was a gentle hand, gathering it and tucking the strands behind the patient's ears. "And it's not that weird..." He watched as Elizaveta finished the bottom few teeth, eyes following her hand as she grabbed the wad of tissue paper to clean the teeth and around Matthew's lips. "Okay, fine, it is a little strange. But whatever, right? It's got to be done."

"Exactly," she replied, putting aside the toothbrush and tissue. She gave Gilbert an appraising eye. "It's nice to see someone else who understands. Lot of the friends and family members around here would get defensive when we first bring up the subject of personal care of unconscious patients. It's as if they seem to think they're protecting the patient's privacy or integrity or something. Really they're just hindering our treatment."

"No, it totally makes sense to me, though I guess I hadn't really thought about it before." Gilbert shrugged, watching as she started to brush the ends of Matthew's hair. It was quick and efficient, the strands not seeming too tangled in the first place, likely because Matthew didn't move all that much. "Though I kinda gotta admit that I'm a bit disappointed that it was you moving the guy around all this time. I thought Mattie had been moving by himself, you know. That he was recovering." He didn't know what had compelled him to reveal that, but he was caught a bit off guard when Elizaveta turned to him and smiled.

"Well it's true he hasn't been moving around by himself," she said. "That's a bit much to expect at this point, but he there have been some signs of recovery over the past couple of weeks. Here, you'll probably see for yourself in few minutes." And with that Gilbert watched as she started what seemed like a series of odd little tests.

First she crouched next to him, up close to his head. From there it was nothing more than asking Matthew in a loud, kind voice if he'd like to move for her. There was no reaction. Then she grabbed her pen and placed in his upturned hand, again asking if Matthew could move and grasp the object. It was all very polite, Elizaveta showing none of the frustration that was slowly building up in Gilbert, but it was clearly not a success.

Finally Gilbert figured that it would probably do no harm to speak up, weird tests or not.

"What are you doing?"

"GCS observations. Procedures that record motor response, verbal response, and eye movements. I've just done a couple of the more basic ones." She took hold of her pen and placed it between Matthew's eyebrows. "Now this is going to look a bit painful, but trust me, it is one of the tests."

Gilbert cringed as Elizaveta pressed the pen tip into the soft skin and twisted. It did look painful. And Matthew must have thought so as well. Gilbert's eyes immediately widened when he saw the other man's arms twitch, muscles extending, brow creasing in an obvious reaction.

"I know, right?" Elizaveta had turned to him, eyes positively sparkling. "And you probably couldn't see it from there, but his eyes definitely moved under his eyelids. It's not the full opening that the next grade requires, but it's surely something."

"That's awesome," Gilbert said, crouching closer to Elizaveta and Matthew. "So this is totally a sign of recovery, right?" He reached out to poke the other man's arm, hoping to recreate the reaction, but Matthew had returned to his abnormal stillness.

Elizaveta nodded her head in response to Gilbert's question. "Oh yes, of course." She looked at Gilbert various attempt at poking with a raised eyebrow, finally reaching out to stop him. "He's only reacting to deep painful stimuli right now, so you can stop that." Shaking her head, she stood up straight. "But yes. A definite improvement on his old GCS score."

"Oh, that coma scale thing." Gilbert joined her, placing his hands on his back and stretching slightly. "Yeah, I think my brother mentioned that. Wasn't Matthew at a three or something?" He looked down at the other with an almost fond expression.

Elizaveta regarded him with an amused kind of smile, not that Gilbert noticed. He only looked her way when she answered him. "Maybe then, but now? Goodness no, I'd say he's about a four now, maybe even five if we're lenient with that eye movement part." She started gathering her papers and clipboard, making a few notes in what was likely the results of the tests. "And this is all considering the fact that he still has a feeding tube in. We can't even assess his verbal response yet." She looked up at Gilbert. "But hopefully that'll change soon."

"Yeah, totally." Gilbert couldn't help the grin that was overtaking his features. It looked like things weren't so bad after all. "Hey," he called out, noticing that Elizaveta was getting ready to leave. "That was pretty cool, all the stuff you did. So yeah, just thought should know that."

She stared at him quizzically for a moment before laughing slightly. "You're welcome. And I've never really had an audience before, so that was also an interesting experience."

Gilbert spread his arms comically. "What can I say, I'm an interesting kind of guy."

"I'm sure." She smiled and turned towards the door. "It was nice meeting you Gilbert. I'm certain I'll see you around again sometime soon."

"Ditto."

Gilbert didn't need to see her face to know she had rolled her eyes. She reached the door and quietly left, clearly hurrying off to her next patient.

"So Mattie," Gilbert said, easily falling back into the habit of speaking out loud in the silent room. "Look at you, getting all better and shit." He turned back towards the bed where Matthew lay. "And to think I almost left you alone. Jeez, what a mistake that would'a been. I bet you've been getting better just so you can finally meet me for real, right? Awesome, bro."

He still had a little over an hour until he even needed to start thinking about getting ready for his shift. Settling back down into his seat, he propped his feet onto the side table and titled his head towards Matthew. "Seems like you're stuck with me for a little while yet." He hummed sociably. "So you know my brother, right? Well there was this one time..." Fully prepared to spend the hour chatting away, he dove straight into a story about himself, Ludwig, and this energetic little Italian that Ludwig had met.