Author: MercurialLily
Fandom: Hetalia
Title: Gilbert and Elizabeta's Infinite Playlist
Rating: T
Pairing: Eventual PruHun

You know, I really wish I was kidding when I say I was up until 3 in the morning writing this chapter. That's why it's as long as it is.

I need a hobby.

Also, just a warning that there is a slight mention of domestic abuse.

Elizabeta groaned when she heard her alarm go off. In an attempt to shut it off, she blindly groped around and ended up knocking the clock and some other items off of the nightstand. The alarm continued to chirp.

"Come on..." She sat up and reached down to pick up the fallen items. As she turned off the alarm and set it back in its place, she noticed a piece of paper that hadn't been there when she'd gone to bed. Since she was still somewhat asleep, the page was a complete blur. She picked it up and looked at it. The sloppy handwriting was familiar. There was no doubt that Gilbert had written this note. Elizabeta read:

Hey, it's me, but you probably already guessed that, huh? Anyway, it's really late right now and I can't sleep, so I'm going out. Don't worry about me. I'll come back. I just need some time to figure things out. Please don't be mad at me.

There were a couple more sentences, but they were so messy that Elizabeta couldn't make them out. That was when she finally realized that Gilbert wasn't there. Where could he have possibly gone? She was worried about him, even though he had written that she didn't have to. She couldn't help it.

She dressed and did her hair, then went downstairs. "Mom? Where are you?" she called.

"In here," her mother replied from the kitchen.

Elizabeta went into the kitchen, where her mother was putting away the dishes. Ms. Héderváry looked over and said, "Morning, sweetie. Where's Gilbert?"

"That's what I want to know." Elizabeta leaned against the counter. "When I got up this morning, I found this note he'd left. Apparently he went out in the middle of the night to 'figure some things out'. I don't know what he meant by that. Anyway, he must have been really quiet, since I didn't hear a thing."

"Do you know why he decided to leave?"

"No. Why would I?"

Ms. Héderváry finished putting the dishes away and turned to face Elizabeta. "I thought I heard a bit of an argument coming from your room last night," she said. "I was down here, so I couldn't hear what you were saying, but a little while later, I heard Gilbert go into the living room. I went to ask him what was wrong, but he didn't answer. He didn't seem like he was in a very good mood." She tilted her head. "So do you want to tell me why he was acting like that?"

"We weren't arguing. And do you think I had something to do with his mood?" Elizabeta was aware that she sounded a bit defensive, so she quickly added, "Okay, well, maybe I said something..."

"Go on."

"Well, uh... I don't really know how to put it." Elizabeta went over the conversation in her head. "He said he wanted to talk, so we talked, and then... Well, I don't think he wanted to say what he did... But... You already know a bit about what his family life's like, right? I think it's worse than what he's let on."

Ms. Héderváry frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Look, I don't really want to talk about it, since I'd just be guessing. Besides, I have to get to school."

"Do you want me to drive you?"

"No, I can walk," Elizabeta said as she got her bag. "I think I might walk home, too. See you later." With that, she left the kitchen, put on her jacket and shoes, and went out the front door.

Elizabeta realized, about halfway through her walk, that the school was much farther away than she had thought. On top of that, she hadn't known that it was raining, so she hadn't thought to bring an umbrella. By the time she walked up the front steps of the school building, she was wet and out of breath. She had barely walked through the front doors when she heard the five-minute warning bell. With a frustrated sigh, she ran up the main stairs, nearly slipping once or twice.

When she reached the second floor, she passed a group of first-years standing outside a classroom. She would have kept going had she not recognized one of them. Out of politeness, Elizabeta stopped and said, "Good morning, Ludwig."

Ludwig, along with the rest of his classmates, turned to look at her. He seemed pleased to see her, while the others stared at her, seemingly shocked that a third-year student was actually speaking to someone of their lowly status.

"I have to get to class right now," Elizabeta said, "but I want to talk to you later. Want to meet up at lunch?"

"Sure," Ludwig said with a nod.

Elizabeta smiled. "Good. I'll see you then." As she walked away, she laughed to herself when she heard Ludwig struggling to answer the questions posed to him by his classmates who wondered who she was.

. . . . .

"So tell me about yourself," Elizabeta said as she nudged the lump on her plate that claimed to be meatloaf. She was sitting across from Ludwig in the cafeteria.

"I don't really know what there is to say," Ludwig replied.

"Come on, indulge me a little here. I hardly know anything about you. I'm just curious."

"Well, I hardly know anything about you," Ludwig retorted. "So why don't you start?"

"Okay, I will." Elizabeta began to describe her life in detail: where she'd grown up, what schools she'd gone to, and why she and her mother had moved here. She even threw in a few mundane facts, like her blood type and star sign. When she was done, she grinned and said, "Your turn."

Ludwig frowned slightly. "I honestly have no idea what to tell you. I haven't moved around like you have. I've lived here my whole life," he said.

"Then why don't you tell me about your family?"

"Okay. Well, as you know, Gilbert's my older brother," Ludwig started. "He wasn't always the way he is now. We actually used to be really close, if you can believe it. I don't remember exactly when it was, but he just changed practically overnight. He started acting out and locking himself in his room. I didn't know what to do. I still don't."

"Hmm." Elizabeta nodded.

"Our father's pretty strict. I'm fine with it for the most part, but Gilbert isn't." Ludwig shrugged slightly. "I work hard at school and make sure to do chores at home, so I don't get in trouble. But Gilbert, he's... It's like he's on a completely different wavelength. I can't remember the last time he did what he was told. He doesn't listen, and he talks back a lot. So he gets in trouble."

Elizabeta decided to pose the question she'd been wanting to ask. "Is your father ever abusive?"

"What?" Ludwig shook his head. "No. I mean, he yells sometimes, but -" He stopped talking, and a look of sudden realization appeared on his face.

"What is it?" Elizabeta asked.

"There have been times where I've been in another room and I've heard Gilbert and our dad arguing, and sometimes... You know, now that you've mentioned it, I think it might be true. I don't think I've ever actually seen it happen, but sometimes Gilbert will have a black eye or something like that." Ludwig sighed and put his head in his hands. "I'm so stupid. How could I have not realized why?"

"Hey, don't get mad at yourself," Elizabeta said gently. She reached out and touched Ludwig's arm. "At least you know now."

"But I could have tried to do something about it. Now I know why he hates me. I never helped him."

Elizabeta was quiet for a little while. When she finally spoke again, her voice was slightly hesitant. "Do you remember much about your mother?"

Ludwig looked up and slowly shook his head. "Not really," he said. "I was seven when she died. What I do remember is very limited and kind of stupid. I know she had dark hair, and I don't think she was that tall. And she had a gentle voice. That's it. I can't remember anything else. But Gilbert was really attached to her. Which reminds me..."

"Yeah?"

"I apologize if this is a somewhat off-handed question. You don't have to answer if you don't want to." Ludwig sighed again. "Do you like my brother? I don't mean as just a friend."

"Oh... Um..." Elizabeta felt her face flush slightly, and she looked down. "If I'm being honest, then yes. I've only recently admitted it to myself. But it's not like he'd ever reciprocate. So I guess I just have to deal with that fact."

"Is he here at school today?" Ludwig asked. "I didn't see him with you this morning."

"No, he's not." Elizabeta didn't exactly how to say why Gilbert wasn't there, so she resorted to lying. "He said he wasn't feeling well this morning, so he stayed home."

Ludwig nodded slowly. "Well, as long as he's okay."

Elizabeta forced a smile. "He's fine," she said. Then she glanced at her watch. "I have to go. I have class in a few minutes."

"Yeah, me too. Do you want to talk tomorrow?"

"Sure," Elizabeta said as she stood up. "Same time tomorrow, then. Bye."

"Bye."

. . . . .

Gilbert yawned and looked up at the cloudy sky. It had stopped raining some time ago, and the air was still quite damp. His clothes were wet, but he didn't care. He was pretty cold, though.

He had no idea what time it was, but it felt like the afternoon. He'd spent the night in the cemetery, taking shelter from the rain underneath a large oak tree. At the present moment, Gilbert was sitting in front of his mother's gravestone, clearing away the sticks and leaves that lay near it. He enjoyed quiet times like this, when no one was around and there wasn't a chance he'd get in trouble. It was peaceful.

I wish it was always this quiet. It would be so nice. And I wish you were still here, Mom. I miss you.

He felt a few tears escape his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away. There was no way he was going to cry. Not here.

Gilbert let out a long sigh. He was so tired. Not physically, but mentally. He was trying to hard to act as normal as he could so that Elizabeta wouldn't worry. He felt like he had succeeded so far. But it was exhausting to put on an act like that. It took so much out of him.

"Mom, please help me. I feel like I'm losing my mind." He scared himself when he realized that he'd said that out loud. Maybe he really was losing it. Or maybe he'd already lost it. He didn't know.

He quickly stood up and looked around. There was no one in sight. He left the cemetery and turned left, heading up the street. A few cars passed him during his walk, but he ignored him. After about half an hour, he was on the bridge leading out of town. He looked down at the rushing water below. It would be a long fall, and likely pretty painful.

Stop it. Gilbert backed away from the ledge and shook his head. He was unaware of how far back he'd stepped until he heard the loud honk of a car horn and looked up. He was directly in the path of a large black van. With a small shout, he jumped back onto the sidewalk just seconds before the van sped past. He began to shake with adrenaline and fear. His legs gave out, and he sank to the ground.

It was some time before he had the strength to get up. He felt unwell. After taking a couple of minutes to collect himself, he slowly began the trek back to Elizabeta's house. It had to be after school by now.

The house finally came into view. Gilbert made his way up the driveway and to the front door. He was reaching for the handle when the door was pulled open.

Elizabeta was standing in the doorway. Without a word, she stepped forward and hugged him. She then moved back and whispered, "Welcome home."

. . . . .

"I can't believe you just got up and left in the middle of the night," Elizabeta exclaimed, shaking her head. The two of them were sitting side by side on her bed. It was around ten in the evening. "What, did you think I wouldn't panic?"

"That's why I wrote you that note," Gilbert said. "I told you not to worry."

"I don't care! I can't help how I feel." Elizabeta looked down. "You're your own person, and I get that, but maybe once in a while you could consider other people's feelings." She kept talking, but Gilbert had stopped paying attention. He hadn't meant to. He was still listening, but more to the sound of her voice than to her actual words. When had he realized that her voice sounded a lot like his mother's had?

He recalled the conversation they'd had a few days earlier, when Elizabeta had been talking about guardian angels and heaven and stuff like that. Gilbert had said that he didn't believe in that, but now he was reconsidering. Elizabeta had come into his life when he was at an extremely low point. She'd stubbornly worked to break his shell and get him to open up. When everyone else gave up on him, she persisted. It was something he admired about her. You know, she did kind of save me. It could just be a coincidence, but maybe there's more to it than that.

Elizabeta's voice steadily faded, and she yawned, but Gilbert barely noticed. He did, however, notice when she put her head on his shoulder. He was more than a little surprised. He tapped her cheek and called to her, but it didn't work. She was fast asleep.

Gilbert was too afraid to move. So despite the fact that he was sitting in a slightly uncomfortable way, he stayed perfectly still so as not to wake Elizabeta. He gently patted her head and whispered, "Good night."

A/N: Pretty quick update, huh? :P I've been on a roll writing-wise lately, so that's probably why. Now if only I actually had motivation to do my school work.

On an unrelated note, I've recently discovered that I can only draw Gilbert when I'm listening to Green Day. I have no idea why.