Chapter 23

Gil woke with a groan and hit snooze on his alarm. It was 5 am and he didn't want to get up. His arm stung, his body ached, and his eyes almost refused to open. He sighed, the alarm going off again. He forced himself out of bed, walking up to the mirror, groggy. He looked tired. He felt tired. He hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep. He glanced down at his arm. The blood had soaked through the bandage that was partially falling off, and the bruise was worse, covering his arm from his elbow almost to his wrist. He sighed, turning in front of the mirror. He was skinnier than he remembered. The skin around his eyes had darkened to a dull grey, and the whites of his eyes were bloodshot. He licked his chapped lips, trying to hydrate them. It didn't work, only making them worse. He poked at the skin on his face and neck. He looked older somehow, though he hadn't aged. He flexed the muscles in his back and arms, smiling slightly to see that the definition he worked hard for still showed.

He jumped, glancing behind him. He hadn't heard anything. No one was there. He pressed his hands against his forehead, shaking his head. He looked up with a deep breath, grabbing a shirt from his dresser, and slipped it over his head. He tugged on his running shoes and walked out of his room, down the hall, and out the side door of the hotel. He started down the sidewalk, trying not to notice the scars left on the city by the war. He breathed deeply in the early morning mist. The sun was still low in the sky, dying the clouds bright orange and pink. He turned away from the sun, running down the long streets. The city was silent apart from single car passed, turning the corner behind him. He kept running, trying to let the rhythmic sound of his shoes hitting cement keep his mind off everything else. He slowed his steps as the wall grew closer. He didn't want to go closer to it. He had to go closer to it. He walked towards it, slowly, watching as it grew to tower above him. He could barely look at it, just the thought of the miles and miles of cement sending a shiver down his spine. He reached out, pressing his hand onto the cold grey stone. He sighed deeply, letting his forehead rest against it, trying not to let tears overwhelm him. He looked up again, letting his eyes travel up the wall to the top. There was no way to cross it, just a few gates. He pressed his forehead into the cement again, trying to think of a way to get Adelaide and her family past it. The gates would be the easiest way, but he would need a reason as to why they were using it. He shook his head.

"WHY!?" he screamed at the top of his lungs, slamming his fist against the wall, kicking it, not even caring that it hurt. "WHY WHY WHY!?" He turned around, pressing his back into the wall, sliding down, sitting on the ground, burying his face in his hands. "What do you want me to do?" he wasn't sure who he was talking to. Himself? God? He didn't care. "I can't protect them! I can't protect anyone…" He shook his head, letting his head fall back against the wall, looking towards the sky, He shook his head again, closing his eyes and bringing his head down again. He stood, pressing against the wall again, steadying himself. He brushed back his hair with his hand, trying to feel normal. He didn't feel normal. Nothing was normal.

He took off running again, taking the shortest way to the hotel. Cort was at the door as usual. Gil walked up to him, ruffling the boy's hair.

"Hallo!" Cort grinned up at him, "I didn't see you yesterday…"

Gil nodded, "I'm sorry. I was… busy."

Cort nodded, understanding, "So, do you like my family?"

Gil grinned, "Yes, very much."

"Especially Adelaide." Cort rolled his eyes.

"What's that now?" Gil laughed.

"You like her," Cort said matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gil laughed again, kneeling so he was eye level with Cort, "And being the man-of-the-house, I suppose I need your approval?" He asked kindly.

Cort looked at him, surprised, but pleased. He nodded once, "Yes. You have my approval."

"Good," Gil smiled, standing, looking down at the boy, "So does that mean I can ask her out?"

"As long as she's home by… eight!"

Gil smirked, "Are you sure? That's very early… what about 11?"

Cort frowned, but nodded again, "10." He said, looking up at Gil, "You can have her back by 10. And take good care of her!"

Gil nodded, saluting, "Yes, sir."

Cort laughed a little, "Ok, now that that's settled… is there anything you need that I can do for you?"

Gil shook his head, "Nein. Get back to work. You're a very, very good man-of-the-house, Cort.

Cort beamed, "You think so?"

Gil nodded, "I know so."

Cort smiled, running off towards his boss, who beckoned him to help another guest.

GDR walked back up to his room, changing into his uniform, taking longer than he needed to to make sure every detail was as perfect as he could get it. He laced his boots, standing with a deep sigh of relief. It felt comforting to be in a uniform. It was one of the only things that made him feel like himself anymore. He walked out the door of his hotel room, locking it behind him. He had too many meetings to go to. He'd rather see Adelaide. He walked to the front door, nodding to Cort again as he passed the boy.

GDR walked down the hall on the main floor, walking into one of the conference rooms. Everyone, even the general, stood as he entered, which pleased him. He nodded to them to sit down and took his place at the head of the table.

"General, you may begin your report," GDR nodded to him.

…

Gil walked out of the room after saluting to everyone inside. He breathed a sigh of relief. He hated the part of his job that was listening to seemingly endless reports, especially when the statistics weren't good. He felt awful. His body ached, and his stomach turned over in knots. He bent over, leaning against the wall, trying to swallow hard enough not to throw up. He covered his mouth for a moment, trying to shake the feeling away. He forced himself to stand straight, walking up to his room. He closed the door behind him, closing his eyes. The economy was breaking, his people were dying, and the rebels were on the verge of becoming an actual problem. He took a step forward towards his bed, the movement almost causing him to collapse. He barely managed to drag himself into the bathroom before getting sick. He let himself fall onto the tile floor, gasping for breath, wiping his mouth. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard, his throat burning. He was sweating, and his skin felt clammy and cold. He tried to force himself to stand up, barely managing to steady himself on the sink. He looked into the mirror again. He looked paler than he knew was possible, and his eyes looked almost dead. He closed them, hoping when he looked again he would recognize himself. With shaking hands he turned the valve on the faucet, splashing the cold water on his face, drinking some, trying to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. He turned the water off and grabbed the towel, pressing it to his face, leaning over the sink, breathing hard, still trying to regain his composure. He still felt terrible, but the worst of it seemed to be over. He tried not to think about anything. He glanced through the open bathroom door to his suitcase and the small pocket on its side. He needed a distraction. He struggled to walk towards the suitcase, leaning against the wall. He took one of the syringes and filled it with one dose exactly. It was barely enough, but he couldn't let himself get high enough for anyone to notice. He pulled his collar away from his neck, it being easier than taking off his uniform. He felt for the vein, sliding the needle into it, closing his eyes with a deep sigh as he felt his mind clearing almost immediately. He pulled the syringe from his neck, snapping off the needle and throwing it in the trash, trying to hide it. He put the syringe and painkillers back into their hiding place, and adjusted his uniform in the mirror, dabbing the few drops of blood from his neck. The collar of his uniform would hide the mark, but he didn't want blood on his shirt.

Gil sighed deeply, looking towards the door. He wanted to see Adelaide. He debated staying there, trying to figure out a plan to get her and her family across the wall, but he couldn't. He opened the door and walked into the hall, latching it behind him. He stood up straight, adjusting his uniform again, and walked through the hall and down the stairs. He smiled at Cort as he passed him, walking out the front door. He hadn't bothered to call for the car. He would rather walk. He felt strong enough to walk. The drugs were doing their job, keeping him sane enough to function, dulling the pain he couldn't live with anymore. The walk to Adelaide and her family's apartment was a short one, and he made good time, walking briskly, not stopping to notice anyone who noticed him. He knocked on their door.

Margot answered, "Gilbert! Come in, please!" She smiled warmly, beckoning him inside, "How are you today?"

Gilbert nodded with a soft smile, "Well enough," he said. He looked around the room for Adelaide. Gisela was sitting at the kitchen table writing vigorously in a notebook beside her, and Cort was at work.

"Adelaide is at the hotel, I'm surprised you didn't see her."

"She is?" He tried not to sound as nervous as he felt. What was she there for? What was she trying to find out?

"Yes, she said she wouldn't be back for another hour or so. You could certainly still catch her." Margot nodded, but looked into Gil's face with a worried expression, "What's wrong, Gilbert? You look…awful."

Gil sighed, "I feel awful…"

"What's going on?" Margot wiped her hands on her apron, turning back to the dinner she was cooking as she spoke but kept her eyes towards Gil.

"A better question would be 'what isn't'?" he sighed, "I don't have to tell you that things aren't that great here."

"Does it hurt you?"

Gil nodded.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Gil shook his head. He doubted Adelaide had told them about the promise he'd half-made to her. He didn't mention it, not wanting to get their hopes up.

"Well… thank you, for all you do. Your job isn't easy," she said, her voice full of a depth of wisdom that Gil rarely heard from humans.

"Danke." Gil bowed his head with a smile, "I'm glad to know at least I can do at least one thing right."

"Adelaide would argue with that," Margot smiled, almost mischievously. "Did Cort ever give you the speech he prepared?"

"Well, we talked, but I don't remember a speech…" Gil chuckled at the thought of Cort lecturing him.

"He has one for both of us!" Gisela chimed in from the table, not looking up from her notebook, flipping to the next page, "He says that since he's the only boy in the house he has to teach all the other's to leave us alone. I think he's a bit overprotective," she sighed, shaking her head, "Adelaide's so lucky to be older…" she looked up at Gil, looking him over, "I wish I was old enough to be your girlfriend. I'd share with Adelaide since you like her more." She went back to her writing casually.

Gil had to try with everything he had to keep from laughing. Gisela's crush was almost more than he could take. He looked at Margot, away from Gisela, biting his lips inside his mouth to keep from laughing.

Margot looked shocked and rather disturbed, "Gisela!"

"What?"

Margot closed her eyes with a sigh, "We'll take about this later…" She turned back to Gil, "You'll want to go back to the hotel if you mean to catch Adelaide."

Gil nodded, "Thank you, as always, for your hospitality. Should I sent Cort home when I get there?"

"If they can spare him, he would be helpful here," Margot nodded to him, "Danke."

Gil nodded again, leaving the house, and walking quickly back towards the hotel. Cort was at the door waiting for him.

"I knew Mama would send you back for Adelaide!" he said, "Now Hans owes me a mark!" he grinned.

Gil laughed, "You made a bet?"

"I'm old enough!"

Gil shrugged, "I suppose you are," he nodded towards the door, "Your mother wants you home if you aren't needed."

"Ok, I can go," Cort nodded, taking off his name tag. He looked back up to Gil, taking a deep breath.

Gil fought the urge to laugh, knowing what was coming.

"You must take good care of my sister. She's very valuable to me and my family, and we love her. If you hurt her, I'll kill you, so… treat her well." Cort said sternly, trying to look tough. "And don't let her stay anywhere past 10, remember!"

Gil nodded, saluting, "Yes, sir."

"Good!" Cort nodded back, then grinned, "I'm glad Adelaide picked you, Gil. I like you a lot too. I… I trust you."

Gil forced a smile. The words should have been comforting, but instead, they stung. "Danke," he said simply, "May I go find your sister now?"

"Yes! Of course!" Cort grinned, running to the front desk to return his name-plate and grab the small bag of his things. He waved to Gil as he ran out the front door and down the street.

Gil smiled with a sigh, waving back. He turned to walk up the stairs. Something told him to check his room first. He opened his door to find Adelaide standing over his suitcase, a syringe and the empty bottle of painkillers in her hand, the other two lying nearby. Tears were streaming from her face as she turned to him.

"W… what are you…?"

He wasn't sure if he was angry, but he set his jaw and snapped at her, "It's none of your concern." He walked up to her, pulling the syringe and bottle from her hands, setting them down on top of the now-disorganized clothes. He grabbed her wrist. "What are you doing in here?" He tried to sound angrier than he was. He was curious.

"Like you said, I'm a spy. It's kind of my job."

"And who exactly are you working for? You haven't told me that yet."

"Your boss."

"I kind of hate him."

"So do I."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I follow orders, just like you," she looked up at him defiantly.

He rolled his eyes, sighing in frustration, "And what, exactly, are your orders?"

"I can't tell you."

"I'm ordering you to," he snapped.

Adelaide laughed, not even trying to pull her wrist away from his grip, "You can't give me orders, Gil."

"Yes. I can." He grabbed her other wrist, dragging her towards the wall. He pressed her up against it, pinning her wrists to her sides. He didn't speak for a moment, his eyes fixed on hers, which glittered with even more mischief than usual.

"Well?" She smiled, looking up at him, bringing her face closer to his, "What are your orders, Gilbert?"

"Stay," he whispered, his breathing getting faster.

"You're… ordering me to stay?" she looked up at him with a smirk, her own breath quickening.

"No…" He whispered, bringing his face closer to hers, "I'm… begging you to stay…" he tried to hide the desperation in his voice but knew she'd heard it from the smile on her face.

She brought her lips to his, speaking against them, "I'll stay."

He let go of her wrists, bringing his hands to her neck and waist, pulling her closer, letting her arms wrap around him as he kissed her. He knew he was playing into her game, but he didn't care. He needed a distraction, and she was more than distracting. He tried to push away the nagging voice in his head telling him that he'd regret it. He didn't care.

A/N: Lots happened in this chapter! We get to see the wall again... (Poor Gil...), more drugs, more Cort being absolutely freaking adorable... and Adelaide. The worst part is he KNOWS she's using him, but he's kind of using her back. It's certainly not love they're feeling for each other. And they both know it. They're interesting to write, especially since when we first met her, she was pretending to be a 'normal' girl. She's not going to let the drugs things go by any means... but she knows how to get the information she wants, and she's plenty smart enough to recognize how desperate Gil is. I think she's one of the few people who actually recognizes how damaged he is (at least partially), and you better believe she's going to use that knowledge to her advantage. They're both using each other, and it's SO FUN TO WRITE. She's using him for information, and she's his drug, his distraction. The plot thickens indeed, Ella! XD

Also, since this is non-pairing, and I don't write smut, that's about as much as you're getting readers, just so you all know ahead of time. If you're expecting to hear what happens behind Gil's door in the next chapter, you are mistaken!

I have been giving reviewers so many cookies lately, that I thought it was time for a change. So reviewers get tea and scones this time. But the good kind. England/Arthur didn't make them, I promise. ;) Reviews are so appreciated! You guys got this story to over 50 reviews in no time flat! Thank you all so much! I'd love your thoughts on this chapter too, as again, I have a bit of a story within a story going on here. For those of you who would like to see this story go back to Russia's house, have no fear, that's coming too! :D