Chapter 31

White Lies

It was the moment of truth, Alfred supposed.

Ivan's second surgery went without a hitch, as expected, despite Ludwig's constant pacing and fretting, and Kiku was quite adamant that he had removed all of the tumor, at long last. Now, they were just waiting for Ivan to wake up again.

Two days later, he did.

Another cold morning, windy, snow falling heavily down from the grey sky. Ludwig as usual was beside the bed, clenching Ivan's hand, as Alfred stood watch in the corner. Toris was back again, briefcase once more on the floor as he waited to see if this time Ivan would be lucid and willing to finalize his pending divorce.

Ivan wasn't Toris' biggest obstacle; Toris didn't know that Ludwig wore his wedding rings beneath his sweater, and Alfred wished he didn't know, either.

Kiku was nearly as excited as Ludwig, because no doubt although this was his job it was very likely still fascinating to him to witness the personality changes in person. How odd that must have felt, to entirely change a man's demeanor; Kiku must have felt a bit like a god. Sure was walking around like one, chin high and unintentionally smirking, eyes lidded and looking extremely on top of the world.

He and Ludwig would murmur to each other whenever Kiku came in to check, and Alfred was frequently in Kiku's line of vision.

Alfred understood Kiku's somewhat derisive look.

'I'll prove to you that you're not needed anymore.'

Alfred couldn't really explain to Kiku that his annoyance with Alfred was very misplaced. Alfred didn't doubt that Kiku was going to show him up and make him effectively useless.

That was actually the problem.

Ivan shifted and stirred, and went through the expected stages of delirium as he drifted in and out of consciousness for a few hours. Ludwig waited as patiently as ever, and in the late afternoon, Ivan stirred once more.

At last, an inhale, a flutter of eyelids, and Ivan came to consciousness.

Toris glanced up with a short sigh, already annoyed before hapless Ivan could even open his eyes.

As before, Ivan took a long while to gather himself up, before his bleary and squinted eyes began scoping the room and piecing everything together. Ivan's eyes fell first upon Alfred, he was studied very thoroughly before being eventually dismissed, and then Ivan turned his head over to Ludwig. Expectedly, Ivan's gaze settled there very happily, as he looked over Ludwig's face.

A silence, and then Ivan smiled, beneath the crinkled brow of pain. Ludwig reached out and ran his hand down Ivan's cheek, careful of his bandages.

A rough whisper.

"Hey, baby. Why do you look so sad?"

Ludwig smiled, tried to wipe that misery from his face, and he gently shook Ivan's hand as he lied, "I'm not sad. I'm happy, to have you back."

Ivan closed his eyes, leaning into Ludwig's palm, and whispered, "Where did I go?"

"Into space, I think."

Ivan snorted, opened his eyes again, and it was then that they realized that something was far different than it had been the day before. Ivan's eyes fell at last on Toris, and the very obvious distaste upon his face had Ludwig sitting up straighter. Toris curled his lip, gave that effortless expression of holier-than-thou reproach, and the glare between them was quite fiery.

Alfred waited.

Unable to stare Toris down, Ivan finally lifted his chin in acknowledgment, grunting, "I'd almost forgotten you existed. I liked it better that way. The hell you doing here, huh? Thought you hated me?"

Toris missed no beat, and very quickly breathed, "Oh! If only you knew."

Despite it all, Alfred uttered a low laugh, because Toris was a dick and anyone mouthing off to him was inherently amusing to Alfred.

Ludwig perked up with a sharp inhale, because it was clear then that something in Ivan's head had been scrambled just right, as he suddenly remembered Toris.

What everyone had hoped for, but also dreaded; the return of Ivan's memory.

Ludwig opened his mouth, could find no words, and instead embraced Ivan very carefully and buried his face in Ivan's neck. Alfred and Toris shared a short look, as Ivan ran his hand down Ludwig's arm in bewilderment, and Alfred eyed the briefcase.

Now what? How was Toris going to try to pull this one off?

Ivan looked around the room again as Ludwig clung to him, and finally asked, "What's wrong, baby? What happened? Did I— Why am I in the hospital?"

Ludwig shook his head, buried as it was in Ivan's neck, and couldn't speak.

No one answered Ivan.

Ivan was quiet for a while, deep in thought, and then he lowered his voice, murmuring, "I don't remember what happened. Did I do something stupid? If I did—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you. I just miss her. I'm sorry. I didn't ever really mean to..."

Alfred managed to string together Ivan's broken murmurs, and knew that Ivan was saying, 'If I'm here because I tried to kill myself, I'm sorry.'

Ivan's memory seemed to have returned only up to the point of his mother's death. Or, more accurately perhaps, to the point where the tumor had started growing.

Had Ivan been that devastated over his mother's death, to the point where he had actually been having such thoughts, even with Ludwig there beside of him?

Toris pulled out his phone, and began texting away yet again as he sneered.

Ludwig drew back then enough to meet Ivan's eyes, and it was clear that he was crying despite every effort to control it and hide it. Ivan seemed appalled by the sight of it, immediately reaching up and going into damage control.

"Hey, don't cry. You know I can't stand seeing you cry. It's alright. I'm alright. Whatever happened, I'm sorry. I swear, I— I won't do it again. I won't. So, please, don't cry."

Alfred stared at the floor, and felt somehow like dirt.

Ivan just didn't remember yet again, and no one really had the desire to pipe up and tell him the truth. Not like this.

And so Ludwig just shook his head, forcing away the misery and faking a weak smile, and tried hard to pull himself together so that Ivan would settle down. As usual, all of Ludwig's thoughts went into Ivan's wellbeing.

Before Ivan and Ludwig could attempt further communication, before Toris could open his mouth and ignite the keg, the door suddenly opened.

Alfred turned his head, and saw there who he expected.

Kiku.

Ludwig's sharp intake of breath made Alfred's stomach churn, from merely the anticipation of watching a man go through something this unfortunate multiple times.

Ivan, for his part, glanced Kiku over, looked him up and down, and then turned silently back to Ludwig.

Kiku studied Ivan in turn, and then ambled over and sat down on the edge of Ivan's bed to reach out and grab his chin. Ivan curled his lip at the intrusive and unannounced interaction, but perhaps Kiku's doctor coat kept Ivan from mouthing off. Instead, Ivan stayed silent, but not happily, as Ludwig clung yet to Ivan's hand. Perhaps to hold ill-tempered Ivan still.

Kiku had no fear of Ivan, clearly, the way he was reaching out and grabbing him like that without even saying a word. He forced Ivan's gaze, checked his pupils, quickly examined his head, and then Kiku asked, "Do you remember me?"

Ivan looked Kiku over, sneered a little bit, and then shook his head.

Seemed that the past ten days had been lost, but perhaps that was expected, now that Ivan's memory had mostly returned.

Ivan had only just now awoken, and yet Alfred could sense all the same that this man was very different than the last two Ivans he had met. He wasn't the only one who realized it. Kiku pursed his lips and glanced over at Ludwig, who lowered his own eyes to the floor and slumped. Alfred understood their feelings; telling a man he was dying was unfortunate. Telling the same man twice was inhumane.

The only mercy this time around, Alfred supposed, was that Ivan remembered his mother was gone and therefore there was no heartbreaking wish to give her a call.

Kiku was far more stoic than even Ludwig, and very quickly wiped the slate clean and merely supplied, "I'm Kiku Honda. Your doctor."

The name meant nothing to Ivan, clearly, for no flit of recognition crossed his face.

Alfred expected Kiku to tread a while, lead in gently, word things softly and misleadingly as he had before. To lie, even, for the greater good.

That wasn't the case.

Kiku looked right into Ivan's eyes, and said, with no warning and no lead in, "You had a brain tumor. We operated. Now, we need to start radiation therapy, to slow the spread of the cancer. We can give you some time."

This time, faced with this different Ivan, Kiku wasn't wording things gently, wasn't misleading, wasn't softening the blow, and wasn't offering Ivan false words of comfort. This was a different man with different emotions, and Kiku's platitudes would have had no effect.

When Kiku stared into Ivan's eyes then, his look was painfully clear :

'You're dying, and there's nothing I can really do about it.'

And this time, faced with this reality, Ivan didn't look confused or lost, disoriented or dazed. He sat there, very still and very stoic, swallowing once but giving nothing else away. It was very clear that Ivan understood fully what was being laid before him, and it sank in.

Ivan's eyes lowered, for a moment, and then he looked up and over at Ludwig.

The first thing Ivan said was a low, murmured, "I'm sorry."

Ivan didn't look to Ludwig for strength then as he had before, because he was a different man now and not so lost. Ivan knew who he was, where he was, who he was with, and what needed to be done. Ivan looked at Ludwig then and apologized, because Ivan knew that he was dying and regretted it more for Ludwig's sake than his own.

Ludwig came above all else for Ivan, as it always had been with Ludwig putting Ivan first. Alfred could only watch as a helpless bystander as these two star-crossed lovers perpetually reached for each other against the ebb and flow of the tide.

No hope.

There was no hope on Ivan's face, no sense of reassurance, no looking to Ludwig to perk him up and push him onward. This time, Ivan looked death in the face, and didn't exactly defy it so much as accept it. Perhaps because Ivan's last memories then were of his mother dying, and he was back in that rut of depression. Ivan had woken up to heartache, and wallowed in it.

Indeed that may have been the case, for Ivan swallowed again, his eyes reddened as they glistened a bit, and with a scoff he whispered, "I wanted to go with her."

Ludwig's brow crinkled in hurt, as the words no doubt stung. Ludwig, after all, had only ever wanted to go with Ivan.

Toris shifted, and Alfred whipped his head over with a twinge of panic, because surely the miserable bastard wasn't that miserable—

In the end, Toris opened his mouth only to fall crushingly silent.

No one spoke.

Kiku stared at Ivan relentlessly, and waited for the decisions to be made. Ivan was in no rush to make them, staring off at nothing as Ludwig clung to his hand and tried to gently shake him. Ivan seemed almost angry then, though Alfred could never have guessed at whom or what.

Alfred met a different Ivan that time. The third one, but not quite the charm, because he still wasn't certain this was up to date. A little closer each time, but still not quite connecting. But that was expected, he supposed, because it would be impossible to meet the real man until the entire truth was revealed to him.

When Ivan could face the truth, then Alfred could say they had at long last met.

Kiku had had enough of waiting, apparently, for he broke that awful silence to prod, "Well? What say you? Shall we begin treatment?"

Alfred expected Ivan to look over at Ludwig, to try, to siphon strength from Ludwig yet again to do what needed to be done. To be that stubborn, determined, bullheaded man that Ludwig often spoke of.

But Ivan was still and silent, and when he finally spoke up, with a scoff, all that came out was, "Why? What's the point?"

A pass of shock on Ludwig's face. Ivan never gave up, never said die, never pulled a white flag. So why was he starting now? Kiku seemed as equally taken aback, as his mouth opened and no sound came out. Even Toris raised a brow, though he likely wasn't as upset as the rest.

Ivan lifted his head, looking so pale and exhausted, and met Kiku's eyes.

A simple command :

"Get out."

Ludwig inhaled, and something rather remarkable to Alfred occurred then; the expression that flitted across Kiku's face was the exact one that Kiku had sent Alfred himself.

Disinterest.

As if, suddenly, Kiku had seen someone that he found dull, unimportant. Nothing worth expending energy and sentiment over. A man like Alfred, who really held no consequence when it was all said and done.

And so Kiku stood, looked Ivan over so impassively, and then merely replied, "As you wish," before turning neatly on his heel and gliding to the door.

Ludwig suddenly stood, as if to follow Kiku and plead with him, as Ivan glowered away at the wall.

Kiku did pause at the last second, door in hand, and call to Ivan, "You should have remained an amnesia patient, I think. At least that man had some fight in him."

With that, Kiku was gone.

Ludwig immediately bolted upright and followed him, and Alfred naturally went to follow Ludwig, but found himself hesitating, because, shit, he couldn't leave Toris alone with Ivan like this. Not like this. Toris would have instantly sprung, and so Alfred forced his feet still and kept watch over the big pain in the ass.

Toris sent Alfred a sneer, but stayed dutifully put.

That was around when Alfred's head began pounding to kingdom come.

Made worse when suddenly foul Ivan sneered at the door as Toris sneered at Alfred, and then Ivan spat, for all to hear, "Come back and we'll see who has fight."

Alfred shifted, uneasily, because it sure as hell sounded as if ill-tempered Ivan was threatening to beat the living daylights out of his own doctor. Which didn't exactly cast him in a great light, all things considered, but then Ivan's shoulders slumped a little, and he winced as he gently shook his head.

Alfred couldn't really take the threat to heart, because Ivan was in pain and was in the midst of the worst possible position, having lost his mother and now losing himself as well. A wounded dog would bite anyone, after all, even its own master, and Ivan was certainly wounded in that moment.

Ivan glanced at the door, and Alfred immediately recognized the regret there upon his face.

Ah, poor son of a bitch. Alfred knew too well the feeling of putting your foot in your mouth.

Alfred's bristles lowered, as Toris' ever seemed to rise.

Before there was any altercation, Ludwig came back inside quietly, Kiku's sleeve quite literally grasped within his fingers. Ludwig had clearly hauled smaller Kiku forcibly back into this room, because Ludwig was an absolute bull and refused to give up until he got what he wanted.

This time, Ludwig wanted Ivan to live, and there was nothing Kiku or Ivan could do to stop him.

Alfred watched with parted lips as Ludwig marched Kiku before Ivan's bed, stood up straight, and for just a moment there, Alfred swore that Ludwig looked just like Gilbert. Gone was all of that worry, fretting, panic, exhaustion, sadness, hopelessness. Rather, Ludwig stood before all of them then in the same way Gilbert stood atop that pane of glass in his office. Master of the universe, in absolute control, and unwilling to bend for anyone or anything.

Ludwig had a goal in mind, and was his brother then in every possible way.

Even that cold, hard light in his eyes.

That was the first time that Alfred had ever looked at Ludwig and felt that same anxiety he felt before Gilbert.

Ludwig's voice was deep, booming, and very commanding, when he said, "Treat him."

Ludwig's voice had gone cold, too, as Gilbert's. Hell, they actually were related, go figure. Pretty sure the Hudson had frozen over from Ludwig's sudden winter. The small moon could occasionally match the ferocity of its larger sibling, and, man, was it ever chilly right about then.

But Kiku was as fearless as Ludwig, let no emotion upon his face, even as Ivan watched Ludwig with something close to awe, and very pointedly said, "That's not your decision."

Ivan opened his mouth as if to speak, and made no sound.

Ludwig snapped his head over to Kiku, and it truly was Gilbert standing there then to stare that poor doctor down. Alfred had never known that Ludwig could look quite like that. A very worthy successor to Gilbert's legacy, even if Gilbert disagreed.

"It's already been made," Ludwig snipped, and Kiku narrowed his eyes defiantly.

Very intentionally, Kiku stared right at Ivan, and asked, "Yes or no?"

Ivan, with little choice under Ludwig's absolute zero, nodded his head.

The dragon bowed to the damsel, very quickly, and Alfred began to wonder if Ivan (the real one) was really all that much of a dragon after all. More like a dragon on the surface, perhaps, but one that was actually somewhat chained up. Tethered to Ludwig as he was.

Ivan may not have seen the point, but Ludwig did, and Ludwig forced Ivan's hand.

Toris seemed quite torn between disgust and pride, because it was very clear that seeing Ludwig like that had been a wonderfully profound moment for Ludwig's, er, mother, but Toris also wanted Ivan deader than a doornail.

It was a tough call as to what Alfred felt.

Ludwig was certainly a strange man. What could one ever really say about him?

But Ivan's fate was sealed, for better or worse.

That was that, as far as Ludwig was concerned, and so Kiku could only nod his head with pursed lips and then briskly walk out.

Alfred sighed, irritably, as Ludwig resumed his perch there next to the bed.

The silence that followed was awkward and heavy, not so pleasant, and it was a long while before Ivan finally spoke up, to murmur thoughtfully, "Amnesia? Is that what he said?"

Here we go!

Ludwig, still channeling Gilbert, sat up straight and said, stiffly, "Don't worry about it. After the first operation, you forgot many things. That's all. Don't bother dwelling on it."

Ludwig's voice was ever thin and hard, stone and ice, and for a second Alfred could actually hear a bit of Gilbert there, too.

Gilbert had pushed and pushed, Ludwig's entire life, and although Gilbert had broken Ludwig along the way, he had also planted himself in there. Alfred wasn't sure if it was a shame or not that only an extraordinary circumstance could bring it out of Ludwig.

Ivan continued to bow to Ludwig then and pressed no further, but Alfred suspected it had more to do with that obvious regret Ivan had felt for snapping. Ivan lashed out and now felt guilty for it, as he likely had so many times before, and was in damage control.

Somewhat.

For then suddenly, Ivan's eyes flitted downward, and he asked, "Where's my ring?"

A race of Alfred's heart, and he swore he saw a little bit of Ludwig die right there when he pursed his lips and tried to think of a good response. The ice shattered, as quickly as it had come, and the Ludwig that Alfred was more familiar with came back.

Toris watched, hawkishly, very ready to rush in should Ivan start raising hell, because Toris really did love Ludwig.

Finally, Ludwig whispered, "I have it."

Ivan furrowed his brow, and then expectedly asked, "And yours?"

"They're safe," Ludwig more quickly responded, trying so hard to be stoic. "They're at home. I kept them together."

Ivan seemed a bit annoyed, nose crinkling and grimacing, and Alfred could barely hear his low whisper of irritation.

"You should have kept yours on. I don't like it when you don't wear it."

Ivan was a possessive, jealous man, and must have been a little insecure under it all, even in this hospital bed.

Ludwig merely murmured as lowly, "I'm sorry."

The dynamic changed again, and Ivan was once more in control. Back and forth, as usual.

Ludwig easily diffused the situation by adding, "The sooner you finish your treatment, the sooner you can have it back."

Ever the businessman, Ludwig, and Ivan actually cracked a genuine smile at that.

"Yes, sir," Ivan crooned, and Toris settled down and rolled his eyes.

The mood shifted from anger and despair into something a bit lighter, as Ivan came around and began drifting to Ludwig. Ludwig was Ivan's lighthouse, and the beacon drew him out from that darkness of hopelessness.

Ivan lifted his hand and ran his big palm down Ludwig's face, as Ludwig slumped, and Ivan smiled crookedly when he uttered, "I've forgotten a lot of things, huh? Is that right?"

Ludwig only nodded.

Oh, when would it all end? Ivan needed to know.

Despite Ivan's very low voice then, Alfred still managed to hear what he murmured next to pale Ludwig :

"Hey. One thing I'll never forget : how much I've always been in love with you."

Ludwig's face crumpled, his eyes closed, and it was clear that he was struggling to maintain composure. Ivan's hopelessness fled, as Ludwig's crept in.

Alfred lowered his eyes briefly in contemplation, because those words were true. However sick and lost and confused he had been these past years, Ivan had always drifted over and over again to Ludwig as a moth, because Ivan had never forgotten that he was in love.

Alfred raised his eyes once more and paid attention when Ivan added, quietly, "I missed you."

Ludwig tilted his head a bit like a dog, and found his voice to inquire, "How can you miss me, if you've forgotten everything?"

Ivan smirked, arrogantly, and despite everything somehow that stuck with Alfred. Felt in some way as if it had been burned into his mind, that confident and casual expression on pale Ivan's face. Because it may have been fake, but it was so convincing that no one would have ever known. But Alfred sensed somehow the false bravado, because Alfred was a master of pretending to be something he wasn't.

Just a sixth sense, maybe.

Ivan lifted his chin, the very vision of masculine ego, and so easily responded, "Because I miss you every time you're not with me. Even when I'm asleep."

Alfred hated that expression on Ludwig's face, as he forcibly kept himself still, even though it was obvious to all that Ludwig longed to dive atop Ivan and never let him go.

Alfred shifted, fidgeted, and felt eyes upon him. He turned his head, ever so slightly, to see Toris' pretty eyes burning right through him.

That stare.

Toris stared at Alfred, so piercingly that Alfred squirmed, and he understood what Toris was saying to him :

'Act. Now.'

The time had come at last.

Gilbert had given Alfred an order, and Alfred at last found the will to obey it. It had all gone too far, and Ludwig had started on down the new path. There was no going back. Ivan was the dead-end, however much Ludwig wanted him, and there was no sense in turning around. Ludwig would walk this new line, whether he wanted to or not. Enough was enough.

For once in his life, Alfred was going to win.

Even if he had to cheat.

Ivan was still in the dark, confused, vulnerable. Ludwig was lying, evading, wording things so carefully to avoid giving any hint to Ivan that things weren't normal. Ludwig didn't want Ivan to despair and refuse treatment. Alfred didn't care—Ludwig was his now, so why keep lying to Ivan?

Ludwig may have forced Ivan to bow, but would never get Alfred to stand down.

Maybe Alfred was the dragon, and had been all along.