Hello Everyone! I know it has been a long time, and for that I am terribly sorry. There really is no excuse, but I've been through a lot of transition over the past year or so (for example, last time I submitted, I was living in Norway) and have been having some problems with anxiety, which saps my creativity. I hope those of you who may still be invested in this story enjoy this chapter and anyone who has happened to stumble upon it finds it a rewarding read. Thank you so much for reading.
"This is bullshit," Gilbert muttered, half to himself, half to the orderly walking next to him. Gilbert had told Roderich he could go by himself. It wasn't even that far and he knew where to go, but nooo… Apparently he was considered a flight risk now! "I fuck up one time…" Well, maybe it wasn't just one time. Maybe it was a whole bunch of times. But this is the first of his fuck ups that included trying to run away! Well, the first here anyway. Regardless, he was being saddled with an orderly for the ridiculously short distance to the group therapy room. Not even that, but he has to be stuck with the freaking new guy. The asshole didn't even tell Gilbert his name when he came to pick him up. Gilbert glared at him for good measure, his eyes resting on a prominent scar on the orderly's forehead. The guy smelled like a fucking ashtray.
"This. Is. Fucking. Bullshit." Gilbert said slowly. He articulated each word menacingly, daring the orderly to continue to ignore him. He continued to glower at the other man as they walked closer and closer to their destination. Why even send him with an escort if all he was going to do was spend the entire trip in silence!
Said escort continued to walk without uttering a word, but at least shrugged in response this time. "Door's that way." He finally said, pointing to the door of the group therapy room.
"Yeah, I knew that. Thanks." Gilbert said tersely. The orderly just shrugged again and waited for Gilbert to follow directions.
Gilbert sighed loudly before turning into the room. Why couldn't Roddy just let him skip group today? He was already tired of the asshats in his group, let alone the shitshow that was afternoon group. Lovino had told him stories about the afternoon group meetings. Back when Gilbert still thought Lovino was an okay guy, they used to trade group stories after lights out. It was kind of fun in a morbid way. Not any fucking more.
"…fuck…" Gilbert hissed under his breath as he scanned the room looking for a seat. Right in front of him was the one and only source of his misery, fucking Lovino. Of course he was here, Gilbert should have expected it given the fact that Lovino was in afternoon group for fuck's sakes. He fixed the best and most terrifying glare on his face he could muster. Lovino, who was sitting next to his grandfather, did not seem to wholeheartedly reciprocate the look, but that wasn't any of Gilbert's concern. The seat next to Lovino was free. Like that was ever happening. Gilbert quickly turned away, irritated by the situation. He spotted a free seat next to Arthur, who apparently having his own glaring duel with the person two seats over.
"My fairies could eat yours for breakfast!" he growled. Oh for fuck's sakes! thought Gilbert. Not this shit again. Of course Lukas sat on the other side of the empty chair, staring at Arthur with his usual blank expression seemingly full of rage.
"Have you even seen Trollhunter?" he said icily.
"That movie is entirely fictional!" Arthur hissed.
"So is My Little Pony." Lukas shot back.
"You take that back right now!"
Gilbert sighed loudly. Some people argue about the dumbest things.
"Ahem," he coughed, tired of standing there awkwardly. "Is this seat taken?"
Arthur immediately responded, his tone switching quickly, "Of course it isn't. Go ah—"
"Don't even think about it," Lukas said coldly, fixing his icy glare on Gilbert.
Gilbert shivered slightly; he wasn't ready for another nuthouse show down. He put his arms up to show he meant no harm. "Okay, fine, that's fine." He said as he backed away. He turned around as he tried to block out the ensuing argument. Thankfully for him, there were two open seats left. He plopped down next to a girl he recognized as Elizabeta's roommate. She seemed nice enough, but probably wouldn't talk to him; which was kind of what he wanted anyway. With any luck, the empty seat next to him would remain that way. He was kind of done with people for the day. Too bad he was still stuck in group therapy.
"Alright, if everyone could just settle down," Dr. Vargas announced, clapping his hands. "We're just about ready to get started. We're just waiting on a last couple of…oh there they are!" he said, turning towards the door. Alfred and Matthew stood in the doorway, staring at the other group members with slightly bewildered expressions. They must have been forced to go to afternoon group as well.
"Take a seat please," Dr. Vargas directed, gesturing with his hand towards the circle of chairs. "There should be plenty of room."
"But—" Alfred interjected, sounding a bit pitiful.
"Take a seat please." Dr. Vargas said with a little force to it. Undoubtedly he had heard about the trouble the twins (and Gilbert) had gotten into earlier. He obviously wasn't going to tolerate any shenanigans from them.
The twins step forward tentatively, still looking around the room, perplexed. They walked to the middle of the circle of chairs, scanning the room. Their mutual gazes kept switching from Lovino to Arthur to Gilbert and back again. Gilbert locked eyes with Matthew, who stared at him with a panicked expression. Gilbert just shrugged, not really understanding what the problem was.
"Boys, if you could take a seat please, we really need to get this group meeting started," Dr. Vargas reminded loudly. Alfred sniffed, his face forming a determined expression.
"C'mon, Mattie!" he said, tugging his brother towards the empty seat next to Arthur. Gilbert winced inwardly at the sting of not being chosen to sit next to, but tried to remember how he didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment. It was stupid to get upset about something as trivial as that anyway. But he really wanted them to choose to sit by him. No, he was avoiding social interaction right now, remember?
Matthew, totally oblivious to the inner turmoil he was inadvertently causing, followed his brother and, before hesitating for a moment or two, climbed onto Alfred's lap.
"Matthew," Dr. Vargas sighed. "We have talked about appropriate group behavior."
"But there are no seats!" Alfred protested loudly.
"Alfred, there are two other seats and I would like Matthew to choose one of those." Dr. Vargas explained, sounding slightly exasperated. He stroked his five o'clock shadow stubble slowly, causing his face to stretch downward. Matthew hesitated, hugging his brother tightly. "Matthew? Are you listening?"
Gilbert knew where this was going. Last time this happened in group it ended with a scream fest. Granted there were some extenuating circumstances in the form of other fighting patients that shall not be named and definitely did not include Gilbert. Nope, not guilty of that crime.
"Matthew, I'm going to give you to the count of three…"
Gilbert looked up at the ceiling, sighing loudly as the doctor droned on. "One." Sigh. "Two." Sigh. "Thr—"
"God damn it!" he groaned, snapping back into a proper sitting position. "I'll just move, is that okay?" he sighed.
"No," Dr. Vargas said firmly,
"What?" Gilbert exclaimed, starting to stand up. "I can just go sit over…" he pointedly turned away from his soon-to-be-former roommate, ex-friend, Lovino. "there."
"That is a noble suggestion," Dr. Vargas said, "but I would rather Matthew and Alfred separate for this group."
"He doesn't want to sit over here anyway," Lovino mumbled.
"What was that?" the doctor said, turning to his grandson.
"Nothing," Lovino said quietly as he stared at his hands.
"Alright Matthew, this is your last chance, we've delayed group enough with this," Dr. Vargas said. The look on his face meant business. Gilbert hoped Matthew would just give in without causing a freaking spectacle. Miraculously, Matthew moved off of his brother. He slipped off as slow as molasses in an igloo, but he was moving at least.
"No, no, no, Mattie, don't!" Alfred whimpered in protest. Thankfully, he did nothing to force his brother to stay, to the relief of nearly everyone in the room. Gilbert really wished that he could make eye contact with Lovino right now. If only he could give him a look that said 'see what I deal with in morning group?' But that time for that was over now. He and Lovino were no longer friends; he would just have to get over it.
Finally, Matthew slowly walked back into the center of the group. He scanned the room before noticing (and remembering most likely) that the seat beside Gilbert was open. Finally he remembers I'm here, thought Gilbert. Once his eyes fell on the empty seat, Matthew scampered over to Gilbert and plopped into the seat with almost enough force to knock the chair over. He then buried his face in his bear, looking close to tears.
"Thank you very much," Dr. Vargas said. "Before we start does anyone have anything to say? Lovino?"
It was time to check out of this conversation. He usually ended up trying to ignore the group proceedings halfway through the session anyway. What would it hurt to ignore the entire thing this time? Instead of paying attention to the current discussion, he focused on the sniveling kid to his right. Matthew was still clutching his dirty stuffed animal for dear life. He sat there with his chin buried in the grungy fur, staring intently at his shoes. Forgetting that he had previously vowed to avoid social interaction, Gilbert began to try to subtly move his chair towards his forlorn friend. He gripped the seat firmly as he slowly inched the chair closer to his target.
"Psst, Matthew," he whispered once in range. "Matthew…" he repeated, trying to get his attention. He knew Matthew could hear him! The least he could do was answer. "Matthew!" He had managed to scoot less than half a foot away from Matthew without anyone noticing…
"Gilbert, do you have anything to add?" Dr. Vargas' voiced boomed out, startling Gilbert into facing forward once again. Dr. Vargas was staring at him with an expectant look on his face. Lovino was also repeatedly glancing towards him, but kept looking away whenever there was a chance of them making eye contact. Gilbert had no idea what he was supposed to add to, but really didn't have any desire to participate anyway.
"No," he said, crossing his arms over his body and slouching in his seat.
"Really?" Dr. Vargas asked, sounding surprised. "I thought that you might have a perspective to what Lovino is talking about." Gilbert didn't even know what they were currently discussing, but it probably consisted of how horrible Gilbert was and how much Lovino hated him. He thought he made it clear that he had no desire to talk things out with Lovino. But, who was he kidding? Even if he straight up refused, his wishes would probably be ignored.
He was not going to discuss Lovino or what happened between them in group or anywhere. It was simply a ridiculous notion to think that he would ever make up with Lovino. Not after what happened. Not ever.
"I don't care what he told you, I am not—" he began to say, but was interrupted.
"Lovino, could you repeat what you said to the group please?" Dr. Vargas asked, turning to his grandson. He was starting to sound exasperated once again. "I don't think Gilbert was listening as closely as he should." The last statement was delivered with particularly pointed look towards Gilbert.
"I said," Lovino mumbled, sighing a bit as he still determinedly didn't look at his roommate. Instead, his gaze was trained on his lap as he nervously fiddled with the fabric of his pants; his left foot swinging back and forth awkwardly. "My brother's moving in with his…his…someone else…and it's um, kind of upsetting." Kind of upsetting! That sure was an interesting way to put it. If Lovino had tantrums of that caliber when he was 'kind of upset' who knows what horrors entail when he was really pissed off!
"It seems to me that you might have some insight on this type of situation. Maybe you would like to contribute to this discussion." Dr. Vargas pressed.
"Nope," Gilbert deadpanned. Talking about that to a group of people wouldn't make anything about the situation better. He would probably feel like a freaking idiot if he had to explain his thoughts and fears about the subject of Feliciano to the group. He fucking hated group therapy. It never made anything better; it was just a bunch of people saying ridiculous things before the whole room inevitably descended into chaos.
"Are you sure? It could be helpful. Maybe you'll be surprised." Dr. Vargas continued, not giving up. "Lovino said that it makes him feel angry, but mostly because it makes him feel anxious about the future. Can you relate to that?"
"No." Actually, he very much could. "Why can't you ever get it into your head that I don't want to talk?!" he exclaimed. "I don't want to talk about that! I don't want to talk about anything! It's not going to be helpful because I don't want to talk about it. Who cares what I feel?! It doesn't matter because nobody here really gives a shit. This is just a waste of time. It's all just fucking bullshit!"
"Gilbert, if you could calm down, please. It seems like you are getting pretty upset about this topic…"
"No, I'm just upset because this is just bullshit! I'm tired of being here and forced to do things I don't want to do! It's bullshit! BULLSHIT!" he yelled.
Now, finally he would be left alone. After years of dodging countless numbers of inquiries about his wellbeing and almost as many resulting screaming matches, Gilbert had discovered the best way to get someone to stop caring. People didn't really care how he was doing, they just wanted a packaged answer so they could go about their business guilt free. However, it seemed that Gilbert just wasn't convincing anymore when it came to the usual "I'm fine". People—namely West—would just keep pushing and pushing, asking and asking to see if he was okay. But he wasn't okay and hadn't been okay for a long time. So, he found that if he pushed back hard enough, resisting the constant barrage of "how are you doing's" with enough biting intensity and gratuitous swearing, people would just give up. If he got them angry enough, they wouldn't care any longer. Now, finally he must have pushed Dr. Vargas and everyone else in the circle to such a point of irritation that the topic of his feelings would finally be dropped.
To Gilbert's surprise, Dr. Vargas did not react angrily to his outburst. He just sat there for a moment, as if he was thinking deeply on what he was going to say next. His gaze never left Gilbert, who began to shift a little in his seat, looking down.
"Gilbert? Could you look at me please?" Dr. Vargas said slowly, his voice calm but mixed with something Gilbert couldn't quite place. Was it concern? Sympathy? Dr. Vargas did not speak again until Gilbert raised his head to make eye contact. Dr. Vargas' face looked very serious, but not necessarily angry. Gilbert wondered if Dr. Vargas pitied him, like he was sure most other people did. Just a poor, hopeless jerk who was too messed up to even make friends with other crazy people.
After a long moment, Dr. Vargas finally spoke, "I hear what you are telling me, Gilbert," he said as if the last thing Gilbert had said wasn't a bunch of swear words and yelling. "It seems to me that you are feeling unsupported by the group." Well that was kind of obvious. Around him sat his asshole soon-to-be-ex roommate, two schizophrenics too busy fighting over mythological creatures to even pay attention, and a bunch of dweebs he didn't even know. Not really what you'd call his inner circle of confidants.
Rather than verbally confirming this, however, Gilbert simply shrugged. Dr. Vargas nodded, as if he had just taken that response as a yes. "Can you share with the group why it is difficult for you to express yourself in this space?"
"I never said it was difficult for me!" Gilbert snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. Why wouldn't Dr. Vargas just drop it and turn to another topic? Lovino sat ridged next to his grandfather, sneaking guilty-looking looks at Gilbert from time to time as if he was scared Gilbert would finger him as the reason for this entire conversation.
"You didn't have to say anything, Gilbert. I just noticed from you language and defensive posture," Gilbert hurriedly dropped his arms after that remark. "It makes me feel like you may be feeling uncomfortable." Dr. Vargas concluded. Fucking. Therapists."This isn't the first time you've had problems with speaking in group, Gilbert. Is there anything that we, as a group, can do to help you feel better?"
"I don't think there's anything that will ever make me better…" Gilbert muttered under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching down once again.
"What was that, Gilbert?" Dr. Vargas, ever determined, pressed on, "I don't think everyone in the group could hear you."
"It's nothing," Gilbert said, still remaining quiet, but he could already see that Dr. Vargas would not be satisfied.
"Gilbert, if it has to do with what you are feeling, it is not nothing—"
Before the doctor could press further Gilbert finally snapped. "Yes it is! It's nothing! I'M NOTHING!" he yelled slamming his fists down on his thighs. "Why the fuck is it so weird that I don't want to talk about my feelings and issues and insecurities and all this crybaby BULLSHIT in front of a bunch of fucking ASSHATS! None of these fuckers care about me! THEY HATE ME!" he screamed, not even caring about the menagerie of shocked and offended looks surrounding him—it was nothing he wasn't used to after all. Across from him, Lovino looked like he might cry while to his right, Arthur looked positively affronted.
Dr. Vargas attempted to smooth over the situation, "Gilbert, I don't think everyone—"
"They might not now," Gilbert cut him off, pointing at everyone as he shook with rage. "But they will! They will! Everyone does eventually! Lovino! My brother! EVERYONE!" he listed, getting louder and louder and more erratic as he spoke. He began to shake and rock back in forth in his chair. "So tell me again why, WHY, should I even bother with social interaction, let alone opening up? I DON'T EVEN KNOW THESE PEOPLE! But let me tell you! Let me tell you what will happen!" He growled. It was as if as all of his frustrations from earlier that day were all combining into a fiery hot sensation of aggression, thundering in his chest, pounding in his head, trying to escape. He should have known, should have known the feeling from all the times it had happened before. Like the time West lost him in the grocery store. Or when the other night's lay didn't text him back. Or when that stupid cat wouldn't leave Gilbird alone! There was no way he could escape it, he couldn't hold it in anymore. Everything was boiling the surface; bubbling underneath his skin and making him hot and shaky.
Fist clenched he continued on, "Everything will be fine and I'll think they're good people…but LIKE USUAL I'll be wrong!" he screamed, jumping up out of his chair. The violent movement caused the piece of furniture to fly backwards. "As soon as things get real, as soon as I'll feel bad and need help—AS SOON AS I TELL THEM HOW I FUCKING FEEL—they'll be done with me!" he yelled at the entire room, most of which were starting to look terrified.
"Everybody out," Dr. Vargas said forcefully. Gilbert failed to notice this, too consumed by his rant.
"And then I see how they really are! They don't care about me! No one cares about me!" he yelled at the doctor as the other patients quickly exited the room. "Nobody gives a fucking shit!" That shout was punctuated by him kicking the chair across the room. He then knocked over several of the now unoccupied ones surrounding him for good measure.
"They just give up and find someone else.," he shouted at the chairs bitterly. "SOMEONE BETTER! Then-then-then here's what happens! HERE'S WHAT HAPPENS! THEY FUCKING LEAVE ME! They leave me for their one true love and move in with each other and live their lives happily ever because they are finally rid of me and they thank god that I'm finally gone because WHO THE FUCK WANTS TO LIVE WITH ME, NO ONE THAT'S…" He trailed off, in the midst of picking up a chair with the intent of throwing it across the room. He suddenly realized that his audience had disappeared. In the absence of the other patients, Dr. Vargas had apparently been joined by both Antonio and the new guy. Both of which had taken to hovering near the door, gazes shifting between Dr. Vargas and Gilbert. Waiting for a signal.
Gilbert abruptly dropped the chair, staring at the doctor who was now standing in a few feet away from him. Dr. Vargas stared back, eyes full of what? Not anger—like Gilbert would have expected—but concern.
"N-n-no one…that's who," Gilbert whispered, looking down. His voice began to crack as he spoke, his lips trembling as his whole body shook. "No one cares about me." With that, it was as if a wave had washed over him. The boiling hot sensation was instantly replaced by a sinking feeling of inky, all-consuming, sadness. Tears began to cascade down his face as he let out a shuddering sob.
He squatted down where he was standing and cradled his head in his arms as he continued to cry and sobs were soon wracking his body. A rustling of fabric told him that Dr. Vargas had sat next to him.
"I can't…" he sobbed.
"You don't have to," Dr. Vargas said quietly. "Not right now, you don't have say anything."
It was amazing what one can hear while laying silently in a place like this. Laying was just about all Gilbert could handle right now. He felt like a washcloth that had been wrung over and over until every ounce of water had poured out. His tear ducts must have dried out from the sheer amount of crying he had done in the group therapy room and the heavily escorted way back. He halfway wondered why no one had thought to give him any more medication yet, but the other half of him couldn't even think so he just gave up and continued laying on his bed. And listening.
"I'm just not sure why I wasn't called in earlier." An annoyingly proper voice drifted in through the partly open door.
"I did what I thought was best. This was my decision." Another voice answered, not as familiar than the first. Gilbert thought he could place it…if he wasn't so tired. "If what we have discussed is correct, this was bound to happen eventually."
"Yes but—"
"Intervention isn't always best. Sometimes we just have to work through it. This has been a recurring problem with him during group. Perhaps this is the breakthrough he needs." Well then, that voice definitely belonged to Dr. Vargas.
"You may be right," Dr. Edelstein said softly. Wait, did he just call Roddy, 'Dr. Edelstein?' He must really be in bad shape. Talk about a breakthrough!
Suddenly the door creaked open to presumably reveal Roderich. Gilbert had no idea considering he was currently staring blankly at the wall. He heard footsteps approaching the bed, stopping just short of the foot of the bed.
"Gilbert?" Roderich said quietly, almost tentatively. Gilbert didn't move, couldn't move. His whole body just felt so heavy.
"Mm sorry, Roddy," he mumbled, not exactly sure what he was apologizing for. Was it the incident earlier? Or that he hadn't let Roderich help him in time? "…I don't think I can talk right now." He finally said, coming to a shaky conclusion.
"I know, Gilbert, I know." Roderich sighed. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No," Gilbert whispered, sinking further into the mattress. He felt like his blood had turned to lead and his head was stuffed full of cotton. "I'm just tired…"
"Ah, okay then." Was it just him or did Roderich sound disappointed? He continued to lay silently as Roderich retreated. "Get some rest, please." Was the only goodbye he received.
He continued to lay there for what seemed like hours. It could have been minutes—seconds, even—but everything seemed to be in slow motion. His thoughts, even his breathing seemed so slow and laborious it was as if he was wading through molasses. He must have drifted off eventually because the next thing he knew, he was being woken up by yet another set of voices in his room. Normally, he would have been startled awake, but he was still exhausted that he did not even shift from his position against the wall.
"Are you sure you want to do this in here, Lovi?" he heard Antonio say quietly. "The chaplain said you could—"
"Fuck that!" Lovino snapped. "He's probably tranq'd anyway, right?"
"Lovino, I'm not going to tell you information about other patients—"
"Yeah, yeah, professionalism, you work here, whatever!" Lovino growled. Gilbert could practically sense the eye-roll. "Just give me the damn thing!" Wait…what thing? What the hell was going on? All Gilbert could hear was a soft jingling of what sounded like jewelry coming out of someone's pocket. "Thanks," Lovino huffed grumpily. "What's today again?"
"Saturday," Antonio said, then added, "Joyful mysteries."
"Yeah, I fucking know!" Lovino hissed, but then seemed to settle down. "But thanks, you know how much this means to me…can you leave now?"
"Lovi, you know I can't. Not when you have that."
"Like I would strangle myself with a rosary!" Lovino snapped angrily. The following silence probably included a meaningful exchanging of looks, Gilbert guessed. Finally, Lovino sighed loudly. "Yeah, okay, I get it whatever." The bed across from Gilbert's let out a soft creak as Lovino apparently sat down and began to softly speak, "Hail Mary, full of grace, Our Lord is with thee…"
Oh no. Was Gilbert really going to have to sit through this? It had been nearly three years since he had even set foot in a church. Still, he wondered what Lovino was giving penance for. Lord knows there were a lot of things for him feel remorseful about. But he certainly wasn't praying due his blow out with Gilbert. There's no way. No way did he regret that…Lovino hated him. He obviously didn't care about Gilbert anymore. Right?
"Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen."
Mercifully, Gilbert found himself falling asleep once again while listening to the rhythmic lull of Lovino's voice.
The rest of the day continued as slowly and unremarkably from that point on. Usually after such outbursts, Gilbert would spend the entire day boarded up in his room ignoring Ludwig's protests, only to sneak out late at night to drown his sorrows in copious amounts of liquor. However, this time there was no booze to be had. Only shitty hospital food for dinner, which was—mercifully or perhaps consequently—brought to his room. Now, hours later, he was way to awake for his own good. Lovino had left while he was asleep and had yet to come back—much to his relief—so he nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company. He tried to tell himself that this was what he wanted—to be alone. If he didn't waste time putting misguided trust in others he would never be hurt. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness that had been growing in the pit of his stomach since dinnertime.
No, he didn't want to be alone; couldn't be alone. Deep down, the thought scared him shitless. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what he put into a relationship, they would always leave him in the end. He would always end up abandoned. It was bound to happen, after all. He wasn't the easiest person to get along with. Eventually, everyone would become fed up and give up on him. Even Ludwig. And now… he thought mournfully as he headed to the bathroom in half-hearted attempt to get ready for bed, West's finally leaving me too.
Suddenly, as he walked through the threshold, the room filled with light…but he hadn't touched the light switch. In front of him stood a slightly shocked looking Matthew, his hand on the doorknob. Had he just closed the other door or was he trying to escape? Suddenly the details of the afternoon's blowout hit Gilbert like a ton of bricks. He'd called everyone in the room asshats, including Alfred, Arthur, and Matthew! Then, he proceeded to scream about how no one cared about him and everyone hated him. Well, if they didn't then, he sure had given them a reason to now. As he looked at the boy standing in front of him, a wave of guilt washed over him. He didn't know why, but he'd never tried so hard with someone before. After all his fuck ups and make ups and apologies, the two of them still maintained a shaky friendship. Did he ruin it for good this time?
"Listen, Matt…I'm sorry about…" he whispered tentatively, before being cut off.
"I listen to you, you know." Matthew said, uncharacteristically bold. Gilbert felt as if he was being stared down across the room. He thought about looking away, but the intensity of Matthew's gaze was near intoxicating. "I know you don't really feel like anyone in group listens to what you have to say, but I do."
"Uh, thanks." Gilbert mumbled, finally breaking eye contact to stare awkwardly at the floor.
Never the less, Matthew continued, "It must be scary," he sighed. "So, so scary to be away from your brother like you are…to know that his life is changing even without you there. I can't even imagine what's that's like." No kidding. Gilbert wasn't even sure how Matthew could stand being apart from Alfred long enough to have this conversation. "But, it takes a lot courage to know that even if it feels like he's going forward while you're stuck in neutral, he'll never leave you behind."
"But, I don't know!" Gilbert protested, looking back up to meet Matthew's eyes once again. "I really don't." Matthew simply shrugged.
"Well I think you do, Gilbert." He said softly. "You're stronger than you think."
"Thanks, I guess…" Gilbert mumbled, looking away once. "Now, could you, uh…um, I have to pee."
A small smile on his lips, Matthew gave him a slight wave and retreated back to his room.
The next morning, Gilbert awoke with a jolt and the realization that he was once again the subject of the full intensity of his roommate's stare. Unlike the countless other similar awakenings, this one was far less welcome. "What now?" he grunted after overcoming his initial surprise.
"I'm fucking sorry okay?" Lovino snapped, not sounding altogether sincere. "For being a complete asshole at breakfast. I was a lot more irritable than usual and I just took it all out on you and that was really fucking shitty of me." Gilbert remained silent. He just didn't get it. How could Lovino being such a freaking jerk one minute and then sorry about it the next? It just wasn't possible. He had thought that yesterday's argument had revealed the true nature of his roommate but now…nothing made sense.
"And that whole thing with our brothers," Lovino sighed, his voice wavering as if he really was upset. Was it all just an act? The guy had called West a Nazi rapist for fuck's sake! "It's just complicated. I'm not even comfortable with the thought of him dating yet and I hate that I'm stuck in here while there is all this stuff going on in his life. I feel like he's leaving me behind and I'm scared and frustrated and I just hate it. And I think you might just be the only person on this goddamn planet that gets it but I hope to God you don't because it is just the most awful feeling in the world." Yes, he did get it. It was almost like Lovino was voicing all his thoughts and insecurities. Did Lovino really feel the same way? Or, was he just trying to manipulate Gilbert? This was not the first time they had fought, nor the first time Lovino had apologized shortly after. Yeah, his words might seem meaningful, but how could Gilbert be sure anymore? Was Lovino being genuine with his feelings or just saying what he thought Gilbert wanted to hear? It's not like Gilbert's abandonment issues were a secret—he had practically screamed about it on several different occasions. The fact of the matter was, he simply lost his trust in Lovino. He wasn't sure if he could trust anything that came out of his mouth anymore. If he had pretended this long to actually like Gilbert only to turn on him over a stupid breakfast argument…how could they ever expect to deal with anything even mildly serious? So what if Lovino seemed like he understood what Gilbert was going through? How could that even be possible after all that had happened? No matter how much Gilbert wanted it to be true, no matter how he wished their friendship was real, Lovino had already proven otherwise. He's just like the others. A small voice inside him seemed to say. He doesn't care about you.
Yeah, that's right. His—soon to be former—roommate was just trying to manipulate him for his own sick benefit. It served Gilbert right for letting himself trust someone again, only to be betrayed. He has to stay strong, keep being vigilant. He can't let Lovino hurt him again.
He sighed, letting air rush from his lungs until he felt empty once more. "I…I can't." He finally said, his words no more than a whisper.
"What?" Lovino choked, sounding like he was about to cry. "What, what do you mean by that?" Maybe it was Gilbert's imagination, but it seemed like tears were beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. His lips quivered as he stared at Gilbert with a look of absolute distress. "You can't what?" He said desperately in a paper thin voice.
"This. I just can't do this." Gilbert said quickly, coldly. Harsher than he meant to. "I can't do this." His voice wavered unexpectedly, all of his hurt coming through in one little statement. Hurriedly he turned to the door. "Goodbye, Lovi." He said sorrowfully before rushing away down the hall. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he could have swore he heard a hushed whisper, "Wait!" as he departed.
He continued to walk quickly through the halls, making sure to avoid as much eye contact as possible. He sure as hell hoped he wouldn't run into anyone from afternoon group. Yesterday was torture enough. He didn't need to avoid the embarrassment of awkward looks and false concern. He ducked and wove through the morning hospital bustle, avoiding patients and staff alike until he finally arrived at his destination. Skidding through the door of the office complex, he sprinted past the receptionist before she could even try to stop him. It was best he just got this over with before he could change his mind—it was for the best after all.
He stopped just short of the door to Roderich's office and leaned closer to make sure he wouldn't be interrupting anything important. He didn't really feel like getting in more trouble than he probably already was. Soon, he was just close enough to hear his doctor speaking through the door, "Well, I was thinking mood stabilizers, but perhaps it would beneficial to try a low dose of antipsychotics?"
But who was he talking to? Gilbert just had to know. Slowly, he began to lean forward, trying to hear the other side of the conversation. Unfortunately for him, he leaned just a bit too far. Suddenly, he lost his balance and lurched forward, smacking his face on the door. "Ow! Shit!" he hissed, rubbing his aching forehead. The door immediately swung open.
"Can I help you?" Roderich asked, suddenly in front of Gilbert, one eyebrow perfectly arched.
"Uh, hey, Roddy!" Gilbert said hurriedly, trying to be smooth. "I just had to talk you about something, uh, really important!"
"Really important huh?" A booming voice came from behind Roderich. Dr. Vargas appeared in the doorway soon after. "Guess that's my cue to leave." He chuckled, before turning to a somewhat worried looking Roderich, "We'll continue this conversation later. See you in group Gilbert!" he added merrily. Gilbert shuddered slightly at the thought of going back to group. "Make good choices!" He waved and gallivanted away. What a weird guy.
"Well, come in then" Roderich said quietly. "What do you want to talk about?" Gilbert couldn't tell if his doctor sounded hesitant or hopeful. Who could blame him for either, really? Their sessions together had always been hit and miss.
"I want to request another room assignment." Gilbert blurted out.
"I see," Roderich sighed, sitting down at his desk. "I'm afraid that's not possible, we don't currently have an open bed in this ward…" What? No, no, no! He needed out of this room now!
"But, uh…what about…" he mumbled, searching for another option. "What about…Francis? He doesn't have a roommate right?"
"Absolutely not!" Roderich responded, surprisingly forcefully. He coughed, composing seemingly himself. "I mean, Francis is in a single. That's simply not an option."
"But, Roddy!" Gilbert complained. "I can't live with Lovino anymore!"
"And why is that?" Roderich asked.
"Oh you know, we had a falling out. It wasn't that big of deal. Just a series of screaming matches. Maybe you missed it!" Gilbert said loudly. "I can't live with someone I don't even trust. I can't let him hurt me again."
"You know Gilbert, relationships take a certain amount of vulnerability, I think you might want to—" his doctor started, but Gilbert did not want to hear it.
"I don't care what you think Roddy!" he yelled. "Can't you just switch me with someone!?" Let someone else live in misery!
"No, I cannot." Roderich said sternly. "And furthermore, I would like you to try to work things out with Lovino. It may be beneficial to both of you."
"Yeah, sure." Gilbert muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Anything else I can help you with?" Roderich asked. Gilbert wondered if he was just trying to get rid of him. He was about to turn toward the door when he was suddenly distracted by the extremely cliché piano calendar pinned on the wall. He winced visibly, and it wasn't because of the atrociously hackneyed black and white photo of a rose delicately placed on piano keys. The 24th, really?
"Actually, I do have something to ask." He said slowly, trying to appear as calm as possible. "Can I call my brother?"
Thanks again for reading, I hope to produce the next chapter as soon as possible. I plan to begin writing it as soon as tomorrow, so we will see. Thank you sincerely for all your kind words, they really do mean a lot to me!