Chapter 53

Echo Through the Night

In all of his life, Gilbert had never felt such abject horror as he did the second he saw that house.

Scariest place he'd ever seen.

That house; had come straight from his nightmares, he knew it.

The full moon broke out from behind the clouds, as Gilbert waited there hidden back in the trees, and he saw suddenly the house in its entirety.

Made him shudder, every bit of him, and he hadn't ever thought something as simple as a house could really ever make him feel that. Wasn't a house, exactly, so much as more of a manor. Too big to be a house, and too scary. Stone and tall, standing there so white in the moonlight against the dark sky. The frozen grass was glittering all around in the massive yard, and yet somehow that just made the house seem so much colder. A few short pines here and there before it, a long drive obscured by a hill and a curve. Looked like ice, all of it, and the leafless trees around didn't help matters.

Frozen house in a frozen land, how appropriately droll.

Wished Toris was there to hold his damn hand, because he was fuckin' scared, pitiful as that was, just looking at that house.

He lied low within the forest, crouched down and hand against a tree for balance, and just watched.

Hated having to sit and wait, hated it, but had no choice.

As the time passed, he tried to imagine Ludwig, sitting there in that house, waiting, too, but somehow that didn't make him feel any better. Made it so much worse, because he couldn't stand thinking of Ludwig being trapped in that stone prison. Even looked like some medieval damn fortress or something, with that gaudy tower there on the side. Felt like he had dropped down back in time there.

Tried hard to just envision himself being the knight, coming to save the damsel from the tower, but couldn't really take it to heart much as Toris' words kept on running through his mind. That fantasy, no matter how hard he tried to play it out in his head, had a large problem.

'Gilbert! You—! Did you climb up and get in through that window?'

Ha, this time if he climbed up and entered the window into Ludwig's room, Ludwig might not have tried to throw Gilbert right back out, but it almost wouldn't matter this time, because how could he save Ludwig from the tower if he couldn't touch him?

Yeah...

He'd said it, he knew he had, and he wanted to mean it, really, but he couldn't really fathom the thought of seeing Ludwig and not being able to touch him. Didn't understand at all what Toris had even meant. Didn't understand anything at all, not a thing, these guys were so far above him, so out of his reach, just didn't get it.

Not being able to touch Ludwig? Impossible.

He knew it, and Toris probably had, too.

...just didn't wanna die, now, not now. Had come so far, done so much, and now there was so much more at stake. It wasn't just Ludwig now that he wanted to save from Siberia. Had someone else that needed him too, now, although really Gilbert needed them more than they needed him. Just wanted to save them both. Wanted both of them, Ludwig and Toris. Didn't wanna leave either one of them behind, didn't want to lose one of them. As he always had, he wanted to be the hero, wanted to have everything, didn't want to lose, wanted to come out on top of the world, wanted to win.

Couldn't fathom leaving Ludwig behind here, not now, not looking at this house.

Wanted so badly to take Toris over that wall, but he couldn't do that until he had Ludwig, just couldn't, even if he had tried to convince himself that he could be happy with a look. Happy—how could he be? Ludwig had crossed that wall for him, Ludwig was only here now because of him. How could Gilbert ever go back with just someone else? Leaving Ludwig behind? Couldn't.

No matter how much he wanted Toris, too.

Couldn't leave without Ludwig.

So many years wrenching Ludwig out of Roderich's arms, so many times, even though he had always known deep down that Roderich was the best fit for Ludwig. Knew that Ludwig should have stayed with Roderich, but hadn't let him, and now here they were. Roderich would never forgive him if he couldn't get Ludwig out of here now, never.

Couldn't leave Ludwig here, because Roderich was...

Damn.

Time kept ticking.

He waited and waited in the trees, but never saw anyone. Toris shoulda been there by now, should have, everything had been planned so perfectly, so carefully, even down to the minutes. Toris was so smart, so damn smart, knew every inch of this town and how long it took to walk it, and yet he hadn't appeared there.

No one had left the house, and no one came up.

Toris didn't come, and Gilbert kept checking his watch, growing more and more restless and terrified with every second that passed.

Oh, Toris—was he alright?

Couldn't stand thinking about, couldn't, and the awful things running through his head was making him so sick, so sick, making him so nervous. It was getting harder and harder to just sit there and wait, because the minutes kept ticking, and Toris still hadn't come. Up until that moment, everything Toris had done had been meticulous and perfect, down to the very last detail.

Something had gone wrong, he knew it, and it was driving him to the brink.

He stood up, far too jittery to keep crouched, and started looking around desperately, stretching his neck out and scanning the grounds below.

Nothing.

Didn't get it, but just knew all of a sudden that something was wrong, and that he didn't wanna wait anymore. Couldn't wait, couldn't. Would have lost what little of his mind he had left, if he waited any longer.

Shit.

He knew he shouldn't have, knew it, but couldn't help it. He drew his gun, looked around one more time, took a deep breath, and bolted as fast as he could out of the trees and down the yard towards the house.

Flying, over dead grass and frost.

The smell of fallen leaves in the cold air.

Hadn't run so fast since that border, had almost forgotten he could run so fast, his chest was about to explode from that pace, but he didn't stop, didn't slow down, and only barely managed to dig his heels into the ground in time to keep from crashing straight into the concrete foundation of the house. Rested back against it to catch his breath, gun up to his chest, clenched in both hands as he darted his eyes back and forth across the grounds in panic.

Nothing moved. Nothing stirred.

So far, so good.

Couldn't see anyone, anyway. No one was shooting at him yet. Now. What to do. He turned his head, to the closest side of the house, and crept along, as quietly as he could, always looking over either shoulder as he went.

Was so damn scared that he was actually pretty numb, which made it easier to not lean over and throw up or start crying.

The moon was hidden again behind the white clouds, and Gilbert had crept across the side of the house and towards the front. Could see the steps at last, could see a car out near the drive. He looked around one more time, saw no movement, and turned his eyes upward. Didn't see any lights, none at all. No curtains moving. Nothing, not a thing, and he wasn't sure if he was really relieved by that or not.

So terrifying, everything about this place.

He took a step, another, so quietly, carefully, and made it up the stairs without anyone creeping up behind him or lunging out at him. The only sound then was the rustle of the forest when the breeze blew gently. Dead leaves blowing over the frosted grass.

Suddenly, the front door was right in front of him.

Looked more like the portal to the abyss.

Ludwig lied in wait within. Couldn't falter, couldn't retreat, had to be brave, because he was already here, had gone through so much, had already felt too much terror. Couldn't go back, not without Ludwig. Wouldn't let all of it be for nothing. Eduard had let him go first, and Roderich didn't pick up the goddamn phone still, the jerk, and so Gilbert couldn't leave without Ludwig. Wherever Toris was, whether he was waiting there at the end or not, he wouldn't leave this house without Ludwig.

Fear held him still, for just a second, but there was no other way.

The only way was forward, because that was where Ludwig was.

He sucked in a great inhale for courage, breath puffing out in the cold air, and then he pushed open the door.

Dark.

The door creaked in the cold, Gilbert panicked for it, gun straight out and waving all over the place as he slunk inside, eyes trying so hard to adjust to the low light. The click of his boot on the floor. His own heart thudding. Dread. He shut the door behind him as quietly as he could behind him, never once taking his eyes away from the black void of the hallway right in front of him.

No sounds.

Nothing.

He leaned against the door and let his vision catch up to the dark.

The foreboding hall in front of him. A staircase to the left. Could see at least two doors farther down the hall, but couldn't see the end.

He breathed through his mouth, tried to stop his hands from shaking, and even though every bit of him just wanted to start calling Ludwig's name, even he wasn't that damn stupid, and so he weighed his options. To go up, or to check the hall. Didn't want to go upstairs, didn't wanna get trapped up there if he came in, but then, really, if he came in then Gilbert was in trouble, no matter what story of this house he was on.

With that thought, he held the gun out, braced his shoulders, and started creeping down the hall.

So quiet, it so damn quiet. Stone floor. Everything was pale, grey and white, and what very little of it he could see just seemed so foreboding and terrifying. The dim moonlight wasn't helping at all, casting shadows as they were. The air was cold, even inside. Could still see his breath in here. Maybe the people who lived here just didn't feel the cold at all anymore.

He approached the first door he saw, stood before it for a good long while in terror, and finally found the courage to grab the handle and twist it. Pushing it open, though, took a hell of a lot longer.

He peered into the darkness.

Couldn't see anything, really.

He pushed it a little farther, just a little, and yet, for all of that fear, it was entirely uneventful. Actually, the room, when he could finally see it, was alarmingly bare. Empty. Nothing at all inside. Just a blank room. How strange. Who had a perfectly good room on a downstairs level with not one single thing inside? Could have sworn, though, as he shut the door, that he had caught the scent of Toris. Familiar. Comforting. He looked at the front door, hopefully, but there was no one there, of course.

He shook it off, and went to the next.

The second door was locked; he jingled the knob, but it didn't turn.

One more door, and then past it there was a kitchen, pale and open from the light streaming in through the curtains. He crept carefully around the corner and checked the kitchen first, saw nothing and no one, and finally braced himself for the third door.

Had an outside lock on it.

Gilbert twisted it, as quietly as he could, heart pounding so hard that his damn ears were whooshing with the blood flow, and then he pushed it. Didn't move. He pulled it instead, and it started creaking.

Once more unfounded fear.

Just a closet, dark as could be, but empty. Nothing inside. Standard issue closet.

Whew—what a relief.

Well, then. Suppose there was no choice but to go upstairs and see what was there. More doors to check, no doubt, more rooms, and he really hoped that he would actually find Ludwig in one of them before he made it to that terrifying tower bit, wasn't looking forward to that, not at all. Hoped still that Ludwig would suddenly just come downstairs and right into his arms.

And then, as he turned with a jittery sigh of relief to head to the staircase, there was a figure in the hall.

Fuckin' Christ—!

He jumped in panic, crying out and gun flying up and aiming in a second, heart hammering so hard and adrenaline coursing so powerfully he was surprised he didn't pass out right there.

Hadn't heard anyone come in, had heard nothing at all, no footsteps. Where had this shadow come from? Had been utterly silent, impossibly so. How? Hadn't heard a thing.

Couldn't see at first who it was, only a dark silhouette against the backdrop of moonlight. Took a long second for his eyes to adjust. Wasn't Ludwig, though, he knew that right off. The hair lit up in the dull moonlight was brunet, not blond. Not Ludwig.

The figure took a step towards him, even though the gun was pointed at him, and then one more, and Gilbert's hair was already on end. Could barely breathe.

Suddenly, he could see well enough, just enough.

Hell. A kid?

His gun didn't fall, but his guard did, a little.

Just a kid. Didn't understand why there was a kid here. Had Toris ever mentioned him? Raivis, wasn't it? Had to be, but Gilbert didn't think he was so young, somehow. Gilbert had never thought he would be a kid. Hadn't expected a kid. Gilbert stood there, gun aimed at the kid's chest, and he heard Toris' warning ringing over and over in his head, loud as could be, knew he was supposed to shoot on sight, he knew it, he did, he just...

Oh, Toris. Sorry. Just couldn't do it.

Made him so sick. No matter how hard he tried, how much he knew he needed to, he just couldn't do it. Didn't have the stomach or heart for any of this, really didn't, was in so far over his head. He just couldn't stand there and look at someone and kill them. Wished Toris had been here, more than anything, then, because he was scared.

Pitiful.

Then suddenly, absolutely out of nowhere, the fuckin' kid charged at him, like a bear, and started tryin' to take the gun. Gilbert froze, fuckin' froze, even though Toris had warned him so much not to, and he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger before the kid had reached him and grabbed the gun.

Shit—

Kid was stronger than he looked, so much stronger, and the panic came rushing up when suddenly Gilbert was no longer entirely in control of the gun waving around.

Terror.

"Stop! Stop it!" he cried, as he wrestled furiously with the kid suddenly for control of his own gun, and in was the sheer panic that gave him the strength to save his own ass, because for a second there the kid had actually turned the gun around on him, for just a second.

Had wrenched it up and away, and Gilbert's terror was unrivaled.

Somehow, someway, couldn't ever say how, he had managed to twist them around and get the kid's back to the wall, and used the force of the obstacle to push the kid's arms back. The gun was turned again, the right way this time, and still the kid was trying so furiously hard to overpower him, as the gun was steadily turning farther and farther towards his chest.

"Stop!" Gilbert cried, one final time, and even as he said it he could feel himself squeezing the trigger.

Fuckin' kid wouldn't stop—

The gunshot was far too loud in the hall, far too loud. Echoed down it and was amplified.

His hearing went out.

Dumb and dazed, stunned, Gilbert could only fall completely still when the kid suddenly did. An awful, horrible stare between them, in that silence. A crinkle of the kid's brow, incomprehension, confusion, and the hands holding the gun suddenly fell down.

The kid fell soon after, slumping down against the wall and then toppling forward onto his stomach in the hall.

It was so quiet.

Could already see the blood pooling out there on the stone floor.

Felt like he stood there for years, staring down at that stupid, stupid kid. What had he been thinking? Gilbert hadn't wanted anything more than for him to go away. That was all. Hadn't wanted to fight, hadn't wanted to hurt him—

Footsteps from above.

Pumped full of adrenaline and horror and everything else, Gilbert looked up at the ceiling, over at the stairs, and then leapt over, hiding there by the side of the staircase, gun aimed and ready, and waited.

Waiting, couldn't stand it, this anticipation and fear, it was killin' him.

Oh, please, please, please be Ludwig, please be Ludwig, please

It wasn't.

A shape, a shadow, and then someone came down, and before Gilbert had gathered the nerve to pull the trigger at last, he saw it was a woman. Irina, that woman, and Gilbert knew that Toris had told him to shoot her, too, but just like before he froze.

Oh, he wanted Ludwig so bad, so bad, but he still couldn't pull the trigger. Why couldn't he pull the trigger? He'd already killed two people, two, hadn't wanted to but he had all the same, so why wouldn't his finger work?

All he had wanted was Ludwig.

The woman hit the bottom step, and instead of shooting her, Gilbert lunged forward from behind, grabbed her, clamped one hand over her mouth and pressed the gun into her temple with the other. She reached up, instinctively, grabbed his forearms, and started trashing and screaming. The sound was muffled for his palm, but she was fighting, struggling, and he knew he should have just shot her but instead he shot his gun into the air to startle her, pressed it back into her head, and hissed, "Shut up! Shut up or I'll shoot ya!"

He just couldn't do it. Admired Toris so much, so much, but could never be like him and honest to god he really didn't wanna be.

She must have been able to understand him, or maybe the gun pressing into her had gotten the point through, for finally she stopped struggling and stayed quiet.

All he could do then was look around, feeling helpless and panicked, and search for a place to stash her. Didn't really wanna shoot her, too, didn't. Hadn't ever wanted to kill anyone. Didn't really have the stomach for it. Natalia had been an accident, that was all. He hadn't meant to do that. The stupid kid had forced his hand. He had her subdued now; no point in killing her.

At last, he regained his senses, and he kept a tight hold of her as he whirled her around, her back to his chest, and kept his hand tight over her mouth. He tried to walk over to that closet with the lock, to stuff her in there for now so she wouldn't get in the way.

She didn't cooperate as much as he had wanted, and she was damn strong. Took too much effort and too much of his remaining courage to drag her over and toss her in the fuckin' closet. She raised holy hell, Christ almighty did she ever, and fought tooth and nail to keep him from shutting that closet door. It took everything he had to overpower her, and maybe when he finally got her in far enough he banged her head into the hard wall intentionally. Enough to stun her for a second, but that was all he needed. He shut the door, and twisted the lock.

The air was freezing.

He leaned up there against the door, head thrown back and temples pounding, and closed his eyes. Exhaustion. Muffled screeching and crying from behind him. The gun hung loosely in his fingers, as his breath turned to smoke in the air, and he felt then that he had reached his limits. So tired, and didn't even know if it was physical or all in his head, but he was so damn tired then he could barely keep standing.

Where was Toris right now? Had he found him? Couldn't stomach the thought.

Thumping on the door.

His chest was killing him. Lungs stung with the air.

The banging on the door bumped him up and down. Why was she shrieking like that? As if being locked in there was actually killing her.

His breathing felt erratic. Clumsy.

Where was Toris? Oh, was he fuckin' safe? Was he still out there, running? Had he gotten away, or had he cut it too close? Toris was so strong, so brave, so confident and sure; had he gotten in a little over his head for once? If Toris died, like Eduard had, Gilbert wasn't sure that even getting Ludwig out would ever be enough to make him forgive himself for it.

When the early light of dawn had broken through the window, Gilbert had always looked over at Toris there sleeping, and had felt happy, calm, because when Toris was asleep—that was the only time that Toris looked peaceful. The only time Toris looked tranquil was when he was sleeping, and Gilbert stayed awake just to watch him because he couldn't see Toris' face like that any other time.

It was stupid, he knew it, but Gilbert just wanted everything; wanted Ludwig, wanted Toris, and wanted to get both of them back home without losing anything else. Didn't wanna lose anything else, not anyone else.

Roderich—

Couldn't lose anyone else, so Toris had to be safe. The only way he could focus, could move, could press forward, was to convince himself that Toris was safe. Toris was the craziest, bravest, strongest son of a bitch Gilbert had ever met in his life, and Toris wouldn't go down so easy. Maybe, hell, maybe Toris had even somehow managed to kill that bastard. Maybe it was all already over, maybe Toris was on his way here, right now, and they could all go. Together.

Wanted everything.

Could barely breathe, as that door kept on banging up and down behind him. She was still going at it, still shrieking and pounding.

Fell into space for a minute there.

Toris. What a bastard. When they were back in Berlin, he was gonna take all of them on a trip out to Vienna, all three of them, and they were gonna tear that town apart for days on end. Was gonna take Ludwig to all those museums, and Toris too, because they had never seen them. Ludwig and Toris would get along so well, because they were both so smart and so brave, and Gilbert could have stood there in between them, one arm on either shoulder as they walked and talked. Ludwig could stand before Gilbert and they could look at each other as equals, because for once in his pitiful life Gilbert had actually kept one of his promises, after so long. Ludwig could go back into the world that deserved him, Ludwig could make it a better place, Ludwig could help people like he had wanted to, maybe even Roderich could finally have his dream come true and adopt Ludwig and Ludwig would one day become an ambassador. And Toris could see for once that there was a world out there behind the curtain, could see that there were good people, people like Ludwig, that not everyone and everything was just dark. Toris could stand in a world where he wasn't just a number, where he was actually a person with rights, where he didn't have to carry a gun at all times. Coulda been happy, all of them, would have been happy, would have made them both happy, and maybe even one day Gilbert could have actually done something to make Toris smile, and maybe after that he could find a way to make Ludwig proud of him. And maybe, if he could finally say that he was sorry, god willing maybe Roderich would forgive him, for everything.

Ha. Yeah. In his dreams.

He opened his eyes, and instead of stone Vienna he was in this terrifying stone house, Toris was lost and Ludwig was missing. Roderich, no matter how many times Gilbert refused to say it, refused to think it, refused to acknowledge it, no matter how many times Gilbert forced himself to forget it, Roderich was dead. Roderich was dead, Toris had killed him because of Gilbert, and for that Ludwig would never be proud of him.

Roderich was dead. No amount of denial would change that. Not being able to say it aloud wouldn't change that. Pretending that Roderich was still waiting on the other side to take Ludwig out of his hands wouldn't change that. Saying 'sorry' wouldn't bring Roderich back.

Sometimes, it was impossibly staggering to sit here at the end of the line and realize that all of this had happened, so many people had died, so much had passed that could never be taken back, so much hurt, all of it, all because Gilbert had thrown a grenade at a door.

That was all.

The flick of his wrist had set all of this into motion, and so he wouldn't leave until he had Ludwig, because all of this was his fault.

He had been impatient, and innocent people had died. Wouldn't let Ludwig be just one more.

He stood there for who knew how long, and when he finally got his head screwed back on and came back to the world, the banging had stopped and so had the crying.

Silence.

He pressed back, and could hear muffled sobbing. Ah—hell. She'd live. Being locked in a closet never hurt anybody.

He finally found the nerve and will to push off the door, and finally made it to the stairs, taking the first terrifying step up.

Had to do it, had to, had to be brave, because Toris was. Had let so many people down, so many, so many people had gotten hurt because of him, and didn't want to add one more name to the list. Not that name, not that one, because Ludwig was everything, but when Ludwig was safe and didn't need Gilbert anymore, when Ludwig left him and went somewhere else, when Ludwig flew away from him for good...

Toris seemed to be the only one that was immune to Gilbert's attitude, to his selfishness, to his arrogance and his insanity. Ludwig had been too sweet and good-natured to put up with him forever, Roderich had been too strict and austere. Toris was a crazy, violent asshole, no other way around it, and so was Gilbert. The only one that could ever possibly hope to put up with him.

Ludwig was everything, but one day, maybe, Toris could have been.

Toris, sleeping.

For that, he kept moving, and scaled the stairs.

Oh, Ludwig—where was he?

It was always so hard for them, it seemed, no matter what either of them did. Destined for misery, and it shouldn't have been that way, because they had loved each other. All he had ever wanted was Ludwig, since the day he had first laid eyes on him.

Roderich was dead.