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

This is a very quick update. Mostly because when I finished writing the last chapter, I immediately started on this one. This one also went through lots of revisions

Warning for mentions of sexual assault, self-harm, and suicide

The walk home was relatively silent. Elizabeta was too shaky to walk by herself, so she had to hold onto Gilbert. He didn't mind. What mattered most was that she was okay. He had even draped his jacket over her shoulders. Sure, he was cold, but so what? At least Elizabeta wasn't.

When they finally got home, Elizabeta ran straight upstairs. Gilbert slowly followed her. He didn't know what her deal was, but he was worried about her. What happened to her? She seems really freaked out.

The door to Elizabeta's room was open slightly. Gilbert knocked quietly, then pushed it all the way open.

Elizabeta was on her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. She looked over when the door was pushed open. Her eyes were filled with tears. A bruise was starting to form on her left cheek.

"Are you okay?" Gilbert asked.

"N-no. I'm not." Elizabeta's voice was shaky. "Y-you can come in, if you want."

"Do you want me to?"

Elizabeta shrugged and looked down. She bit her bottom lip.

Gilbert entered the room and went over to the bed. He didn't sit down. Instead he said, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I... I don't know. I-I want to, but..." Elizabeta trembled. "I'm too scared. It sounds dumb, I know. You can sit down."

"It's not dumb. If you want to talk, go ahead. If you don't want to, fine. I don't mind either way." Gilbert slowly sat down. "Whatever makes you comfortable."

Elizabeta reached out and took his hand. She said softly, "There were these two guys I didn't know. They...did things to me. Touched me and took pictures. I was so afraid. Luckily I was able to escape before they could do anything else, but..."

Gilbert didn't know what to say. He had no clue how to comfort her. He was furious that something like that could happen to her. It wasn't fair. She'd never done anything to anyone.

"Maybe it was my fault," Elizabeta went on. "Maybe there was something I did -"

"I don't think you did anything wrong. It wasn't your fault." Gilbert was aware that he sounded a bit harsh, but he couldn't help it. He had failed his job. He hadn't kept her safe. I really can't do anything right.

Elizabeta flinched slightly and lowered her gaze. "You know, I think I want to be alone," she whispered. "Would you mind leaving?"

Gilbert shook his head and stood up. "I'll go." He would have said more, but it was apparent that Elizabeta didn't want him there. He left the room, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the door shut, he could hear Elizabeta crying. The sound was reserved and soft, as though she was scared of being too loud. Gilbert clenched his fist. Elizabeta didn't deserve to feel that way.

What am I supposed to do for her now? Is there even anything I can do? I feel so useless. Standing in the hallway, he looked around. The only thing he could think of wasn't really beneficial to anyone - but what else could he do? It helped him cope with stress. He headed for the bathroom.

The sharp blade felt small and delicate in his fingers. Yes, it was small, but it could inflict a lot of damage. Without thinking, he pressed the blade into his wrist. Blood appeared almost immediately. It flowed down his arm, slowly but surely. The cut was deep and would certainly leave a noticeable scar. Shit. Fucking shit. It was nothing that wearing a long-sleeved shirt wouldn't hide, but still. Grabbing a tissue, Gilbert sat on the floor and attempted to stop the bleeding. It wasn't easy, but eventually the blood flow eased up a bit. Then the pain began to set in.

Gilbert sighed quietly. He knew he was losing control, but he didn't know what he could do about it. How much longer could he keep up this act of normalcy? It was only a matter of time before he completely broke down.

His thoughts were running wild. He was exhausted. His fingers tightened around the blade, and he held it to his neck. It wouldn't take too long. As long as the cut was deep enough, it would take less than a minute to bleed out. Then everything would be over.

"No. No!" He threw the blade to the floor and dug his fingers into his hair. Stop it. I can't die yet. Elizabeta needs me. I have to stay around just a little while longer.

He tried to stand, but sank back to the ground. He felt light-headed. What was he supposed to do now?

. . . . .

Elizabeta was having trouble falling asleep. Every time she closed her eyes, the attack replayed in her mind. She could smell the sweat. She could feel the rough hands on her skin. The heavy breathing rang loudly in her ears. She was too afraid to sleep.

She sat up and hugged her blanket close. She felt dirty. Why did that have to happen to me? What did I do? Why me? If she'd been feeling better, she would have gone to talk to her mother. But she felt like crap.

Her cheek was sore. She would definitely get a bruise. She could try to hide it with cover-up, but there was still a chance that people would notice. Maybe she could stay home until it fully healed.

Elizabeta looked down at her knees. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream and yell in anger and frustration. She wanted to turn back time.

I think I might have a shower. It might help me sleep. She pushed her blanket aside and slowly stood up. Her legs were still shaky. When she went out into the hall, she noticed that the bathroom door was closed. She knocked and called out, "Hello?" But there was no response. She knocked again. "I'm coming in." Then she opened the door.

Gilbert was sitting on the floor, a small blade at his feet. His wrist was bleeding. He didn't look up when the door opened.

"Oh..." Elizabeta slowly went down on her knees. She could feel herself shaking. She wanted to say something, but no words came out. Overcome with shock, she took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

"I'm sorry," she heard Gilbert whisper. "I'm really sorry. I panicked. I didn't know what else to do."

"It's...okay. You don't have to apologize." Elizabeta reached out her hand. "Here, let me clean your wrist. It'll be like before. You remember that time at school, don't you?"

"It's not just my wrist."

Elizabeta frowned slightly. "What?" she asked. "What do you mean?"

"I'll show you," Gilbert said as he stood up. He lifted his shirt to reveal his stomach.

Elizabeta gasped and covered her mouth. "Why?" she said softly. She was horrified to see the dozens of cuts across Gilbert's stomach. There were some that seemed to be at least a few days old, while others were very fresh. She shuddered and looked away.

"I really am sorry. I can't help it." Gilbert pulled his shirt back down and crossed his arms. "It's like I just have this compulsion to do it. I've tried to stop, but I can't."

"You need help," Elizabeta said. "We can get you help. I... I want you to get better."

Gilbert shook his head. "There's nothing anyone can do. I know you're just trying to be helpful, but... I don't think I can be helped."

"Don't talk like that, please." Elizabeta got to her feet. "Listen to me, okay? You will get better. I'm sure of it. It may take a long time, but I know it'll happen. Until then, I want you to talk to me when you're feeling like this."

"No."

"Why not?"

"You're going through your own stuff right now. I don't want to stress you out even more."

Elizabeta pondered this for a short time. Then she said, "Maybe we can help each other. Would you be okay with that?"

There was a pause. Then Gilbert nodded slowly.

"Good. Now... I was going to have a shower..."

"Oh. Okay." Gilbert turned to leave. "See you in a bit."

Once he left, Elizabeta closed the door and sighed. She knew that the next few days - weeks, even - would be difficult for both of them, but she had the feeling they would get through it. And maybe we'll end up even stronger. Yeah, just keep thinking like that. We'll get through this.

A/N: Yay for quick update? (I should really be doing my schoolwork but I don't want to)