Berwald stared at the nurse in evident shock, eyes widening.
"The… baby?" he whispered. His heart is pounding wildly. "No, are you sure it's Gilbert? White male and albino? Was he wearing a woman's outfit? M-maybe you misgendered him?"
The nurse bit her lip, shaking her head.
"She is a young albino woman or a transsexual, but if you would like to come see her and ascertain her identity, then that'll help us with the paperwork," she suggested and turned her back, walking slowly for Berwald to hurry after her.
"I've only seen Gilbert cross-dress once…" he remarked to himself, "today, when we went out together."
The nurse led him up the stairs until they made it to the intensive care unit. Doctors and nurses rushed around with bodies and live patients strapped to wheeled beds with the wheels squeaking loudly and doors slammed open and shut. The bustling activity made Berwald's head spin, but the nurse walking into the corridor to early-arrivals snapped his attention to her and he ran after her, dodging past wailing patients and flustered health care workers and screaming children. Soon, Berwald was led into a room with a groaning patient moaning away while another 3 laid back in their beds, either catatonic from fear or sleeping. The last patient was put away in the corner, being hidden by pure white curtains with a window view.
"Gilbert Beilschmidt? You have a visitor," the kindly nurse spoke softly through a gap in the curtains. Berwald's heart beat fast again when he heard a pained cry and the nurse nodded, turning to the Swede.
"We've treated him earlier, but his doctor will come back again for another check-up later. You may spend half an hour with him at most. Have a nice day, sir," the nurse bowed a little and walked past him to occupy herself in work.
Berwald took a deep breath and stepped close to the curtains, nudging the light fabric aside to peek in on Gilbert. It took him all of his strength to not tear his gaze away as he registered the sight before him; Gilbert lying back in bed with a respirator mask covering half his face, his hair almost completely singed off and raw blisters smothering his face, hands, arms… There is a pungent, burning smell in the air that made Berwald wish that he could open the window, but he held his breath and stepped into the cubicle to sit down beside the bed, reaching out to touch Gilbert's reddened hand, but the light touch made the man gasp loudly and tremble all over, clenching his teeth together to bite back a cry. His Swedish visitor's hand retreated, settling for just sitting there while feeling awkward.
"I-I'm sorry. It's me, Berwald," he apologised, speaking gently. Gilbert eventually relaxed, breathing a little heavily and shut his eyes. His eyelashes seemed to have gone.
"What… what on earth happened to the flats…?" Berwald asked, "it's been literally minutes when I last saw you leave me, but then your home…"
Gilbert silently shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut but tears rolled down his cheeks and he sniffled. His friend took a tissue from the box of the bedside cabinet and reached over, dabbing his cheeks and nose carefully but it didn't seem to bother the patient.
"I'll take care of you, Gilbert," Berwald whispered gently and leant down to kiss his cheek. "You'll get better soon anyway. This hospital is one of the best in the country. Thankfully your health care will be funded by the taxpayer, so don't you worry about money. I'll even let you stay at my home; I got a spare bedroom anyway. Tino wouldn't mind, and Peter will probably be too hyperactive because he likes visitors. I think you'll actually get along with him perfectly, but don't be offended if he stares at you – I don't think he ever met an albino person before. …Gilbert?"
Gilbert just tilted his head to glance at him, as silent as a stone. He's looking at him with interest, but did not say a word or utter a single noise to acknowledge him.
"Gilbert? Are you alright?" Berwald's heart dropped. "Can you… talk at all?"
The German just gulped and closed his eyes, looking away from him. His arms remained lying by his sides, unmoving while his hands clenched until his knuckles became whiter. The blisters on his hands broke apart and began to bleed a little, alerting Berwald's attention.
"Oh, Gilbert…" he mumbled and took a fresh tissue from the box to press against the bleeding sores. It made the albino's arms twitch, but didn't make any attempt to move away and allowed Berwald to wipe the blood until a doctor came into the cubicle.
"Hello there, sir, I'm afraid you'll have to leave now, Gilbert needs her tests now," the doctor kindly advised Berwald.
"It's a he, doctor," he reminded him bitterly, "it should be on his medical records."
The doctor didn't take offence to his tone, but instead looked at his clipboard.
"Until she is able to talk again, we'll have to presume her sex is female because of her baby."
Berwald almost did a double-take when he realised that he already heard of this before.
"Is it true?" he asked quickly. "Was he pregnant at all? No mistake at all?"
The doctor took his glasses off to wipe them clean.
"10 years of working in Egypt will tell me that only women with healthy wombs are able to sustain and birth foetuses," he spoke calmly. "It's beyond a shadow of doubt that Gilbert was pregnant with one child."
It's as if Berwald's been winded.
"B-but…" he stammered. The doctor casually sat in the chair on the other side of Gilbert's bed, checking his stats on a computer screen.
"Everything looks fine, Gilbert, but you'll have to stay until tomorrow since your burns are serious," he explained. "Now… how do you feel?"
Gilbert did look up at him, but said nothing and shook his head.
"I see… nod for yes, shake for no. Do you feel as if you cannot talk at all?" the doctor asked quietly.
Gilbert nodded and took a deep breath.
"Do you feel scared, even when you're safe in this hospital?"
The patient hesitated, but unsurely nodded and shook his head.
"One last question. Now, because you're a new patient and there are no records of you in any medical establishment in this country, we have no address or relatives that we could contact. Do you know someone in this country that you live with?"
To Berwald's surprise, Gilbert nodded and raised his arm to gesture at him. The doctor gave him a small glance and wrote on his paper.
"That'll be all. I'll come back tomorrow to discharge you from hospital in the morning. Now, if there's anything you want, just ring the bell and a nurse will come running. You may use that pen and paper on the side table to help communicate, because you seem to have PTSD. It may not be in my specific area of medical health, but I could see that the fire traumatised you greatly. And I am sorry for the loss of your baby."
Throughout the night, despite being told by one nurse to leave, Berwald stayed by Gilbert's side. The German stared up at the ceiling with glazed eyes, stuck between crying and giving up hope in life while Berwald watched his expression sadly without any regard for the time. He reached out to touch his friend's hand gently, but this time Gilbert intertwined his fingers around his, giving it a squeeze and tried to smile at Berwald, but his lips only quivered and he looked away, trying not to cry in front of the Swede and sobs shook his whole weakened body.
Berwald's heart tore at the saddening sight and squeezed his hand in return, lifting it to kiss his crusty knuckles before settling their hands back on the sheets. Without breaking contact, he shuffled his chair close to the bed so that he can lay his head down on Gilbert's shoulder, taking a deep breath.
"Goodnight, Gilbert. I love you."
In the morning, a nurse walked in on them sleeping, but smiled a little and gently shook Berwald's shoulder, stirring him from his sleep. Berwald grunted a little and let go of Gilbert's warm hand to stretch his arms and cricked his neck.
"Morning, sir, we are going to discharge your friend in a while," the nurse commented. "And you have visitors waiting for you down in the lobby."
"Huh? Me?" Berwald blinked and paled, realising who it could be. His family.
He ran down to the lobby as fast as he could, panting heavily, when he reached Tino and Peter waiting in the lobby with concerned faces.
"Dad! Is it true that you saved someone from the massive fire?!" Peter spoke excitedly. "You're a hero! My dad is a hero!"
Some other visitors 'aww'ed at his happiness and Tino hushed him.
"Peter, we're in a hospital, calm down! And as for you, Berwald…" his eyes narrowed into a glare toward Berwald, who gulped and stood up straight. "You worried the hell out of me and Peter! What were you thinking, diving into things as if you're some stupid American hero?!"
"I had to—" Berwald choked out, determined to get his word in edgeways, "Gilbert lived in those flats! If I hadn't come, he'd…" He slowed down, rethinking that night over again in his mind as if he wasn't plagued by the memories during his uncomfortable sleep. He didn't save Gilbert. He saved nobody. Not even that elderly lady, even if she looked dead, but the possibility of her barely alive weighed guilt into his soul.
Tino was frowning, but reached over to hug him tightly and Peter joined in, hugging them around their waists.
"Dad is still a hero, you know!" Peter piped up angrily at Tino, "only heroes will turn up in hospitals to see how their loved ones are doing!"
Berwald flinched at that, but quickly spoke. "Gilbert's a co-worker, though."
Peter beamed innocently. "A boss who saves their employees is the BEST kind of hero!"
His adoptive father laughed a little and so did Tino when they heard someone approach them and they looked to see Gilbert in spare hospital clothes, smiling sheepishly as he tried not to fiddle with his bandages around his arms. His head was bandaged too.
"Oh, Gilbert…" Berwald spoke up, surprised to see him standing and smiling, "how do you feel?"
"He looks like an Ancient Egyptian Mummy!" Peter cheered, staring at Gilbert in fascination. The German blinked at the boy and smiled a little wider.
"Peter, don't be rude!" Tino scolded him, but Gilbert shook his head and waved his hand a little.
Berwald looked at him worriedly. "Can you talk yet?"
His friend shook his head sadly, looking down.
"Oh my goodness… can't he talk?" Tino whispered to his husband.
"No, he's been traumatised," he murmured back and reached over to take Gilbert's hand. "Have they discharged you?"
Gilbert nodded in response.
"Did you sign some papers?"
Gilbert snorted and nodded, tugging his hand away.
"I think you're being a little overbearing, Ber," Tino chuckled. "Well how about we give him a lift back home—oh." He stopped, slightly horrified, "I'm so sorry, I forgotten you…"
Gilbert shrugged.
"Tino, could he stay with us until he finds someplace else to live?" Berwald asked Tino, desperately hoping in his heart that he would agree. He wants Gilbert as close as possible no matter what more than anything.
Tino looked unsure, however. "I'm not sure… we do have the spare room, but would he mind staying with us and a child?"
They looked to see Peter babbling away to Gilbert, who smiled politely and nodded at the right moments. He took a pen and paper from his pocket and drew weird creatures that made the little boy go 'wow' and ask for more cartoon pictures. Berwald smiled.
"Looks like they're getting on well already," Berwald chuckled, but then his face dropped and he lowered his voice, "he's… he's a transsexual, and he was pregnant, but he got crushed by falling rubble, so he lost his baby to internal bleeding."
"Oh my god…" Tino gasped, quickly glancing at the albino and looked to his husband.
"He's probably quiet as he is now because of the shock, but I feel that if we could look after him for a while, he may get his voice back," Berwald explained. Even when Tino looked unsure, he smiled anyway.
"Sure! Let's have him around for a while. Besides, like you said, Peter seems to adore him."
Peter ran up to them, happily brandishing a picture of a wurst with cat ears and a tail, and swore that he'll buy a photo frame to keep the picture clean and preserved for good.
A/N: Ok, I am SO SORRY for taking so long to update, but I'm glad I did! Will update soon-