I should apologize for the characters.

0o0o0o

Ludwig was sitting as close to the record player as he dared, reading meaningless passages, trying to block out the words he could catch from downstairs when Gilbert's voice rose. The words that caught his heart in cold steel fists, not like that and you wouldn't understand and always him, always he's not who you think.

We are not who you think.

Ludwig had been trying to write a note to Feliciano about what was happening, but-his breath was rasping, didn't he just read something a few chapters ago about stress bringing on something like lung failure, he does not want lung failure-but he gave up.

This was too soon, he was only a few weeks into teenage and this was too much and not in the good way Feliciano was, because Feliciano was a golden sort of all-encompassing wonderfulness and this noise was shattering the cautious silence that fell when Gilbert had decided to hold his tongue. He was spitting all of his firebrand frustration out in barbed words of we are right, this is right, we are like that.

Ludwig knew he'd crack, knew they'd both crack, but he thought it would be later, or when he was away, or at least in January, when Gilbert turned eighteen and left him behind. The voices downstairs rose again, and Gilbert's screaming response clashed with the crooning music.

'You can't do this!'

The next page showed a ribcage and a heart that looked fragile. If he looked at it long enough, Ludwig thought he could figure out where exactly the point was on the clear, clean diagram that this horrible pain was coming from, but his whole chest was burning because real life was not these diagrams that he'd been looking into more and more, real life was full of beautiful love declarations and a whole world trying to stop them being spoken, no matter how right they were, no matter how good he tried to be otherwise, in some attempt that maybe if he was perfect in every other way people would ignore that he loved Feliciano and leave them alone.

Gilbert was threatening to leave now. Vati was telling him there was a reason he hadn't already.

It seemed like he can't do anything right enough for these arguments to finally stop. The fantasy flickered at the edge of his consciousness of standing at the edge of the stairs and declaring exactly what he felt for Feliciano, just to make them be the ones feeling helpless about stopping him for once.

Ludwig hated the flickering thought with a bright passion but he hated the arguments more. When Feliciano told him he seemed like he wasn't scared of anything, it had been all he had to not tell him that this was his nightmares.

Gilbert's voice was half scream, half desperation now, the voice of someone who's kept a secret for too long-his name is Roderich, his name is Roderich Edelstein just like it was in Europe.

Silence, in which Ludwig closed his eyes and listened to the record scratch to an end, and everyone in the house understood beyond the doubt of hope and hate that Gilbert loved like they weren't supposed to here.

The silence was broken by his name being wielded like an ace of spades, quiet venom telling that they'd come to America for him and Gilbert was falling back into this destruction, he was ruining his little brother.

Gilbert's retort that he wasn't, he wouldn't ruin things, broke, downstairs, into a final, clear sob, and he ran. His door slammed. Ludwig thought he heard Vati's choked breath, the scrape of his hands across the armchair rests, the way he tried not to follow his grandson into such brokenness and failed.

Ludwig kept reading, not understanding a word, trying not to think, trying not to hear the way Gilbert was screaming into whatever he'd shoved into his mouth, the harsh, frantic breaths of a broken man, of a haunted man. A name and an apology, over and over again-I'm sorry, Roderich, I'm so sorry.

0o0o0o

The house was silent for the next two weeks. Not silent in the way it had been before, but silent because there was nothing to say, because Gilbert was in his room, either unwilling to walk with him to school or not going at all. Ludwig still hadn't told Feliciano.

The only words worth speaking were the apologies that never came. Ludwig felt numb and empty. The atomic bomb had happened and he was wandering through the wreckage, trying to understand how his life had been torn to shreds. He couldn't explain what had happened on the rooftops between their windows because it felt like a dream he couldn't make sense of to himself, and maybe if he didn't think about it, it would be forgotten.

Gilbert was always a storm, but now he was a hurricane, pacing through the upper hallways, staring out the windows like he was in prison. Maybe he was. He went back into his room if Ludwig came upstairs. Ludwig kept out of his way and told Feliciano he would tell him another day about what had happened.

Then came him, on the tenth afternoon of utter silence, on a day Vati was downtown, striding up the walkway. Ludwig opened the door and looked up into fine features he'd seen in pictures, purple eyes that looked over him like they were matching him to Gilbert.

'You must be Ludwig,' he said slowly, like it answered a question. Ludwig thought he looked on edge. 'My name is Roderich. Do you know where Gilbert is?'

'I'm still here,' Gilbert said from behind him. His voice was a conflicted mess, straining with emotion. Ludwig spun to look at him, and saw Gilbert's eyes shining with anger or tears. His body was slowly tensing, and his hands were curling into fists. He was shaking. 'Ludwig, get out.'

Hot anger stoked in him. 'You can't do that. Not after that argument.' He couldn't express how unfair it all was, that Gilbert got to argue and shout and Ludwig couldn't tell anyone his secret about Feliciano.

'Get out. You can be angry later.'

Furious, Ludwig did. He turned around to shout something, and through the window, saw his brother kiss Roderich on the mouth, break away and start shouting, tears rolling down his face, and be interrupted by Roderich grabbing him by the collar and pulling him back in before they staggered out of view. He turned, feeling dizzy, and let himself into Feliciano's garden, where he couldn't see it happen. The air smelled like rain.

0o0o0o

Feliciano saw more than heard Ludwig tossing sticks at his window from the kitchen. He opened the front door and ran out, pulling him into a hug. Ludwig went still in his arms before embracing him back, burning his face in his shoulder and taking heaving breaths.

Ludwig had looked worse than usual recently, but he looked ragged right now. His usual jacket was missing, and he was shivering in a T-shirt. Feliciano offered him his blue jacket when they untangled, but he refused.

'I'm not cold, it's just-' He closed his eyes and his mouth pulled into a pained, wild grimace. 'I don't know. Feliciano, I'm scared.'

'It's okay.' Feliciano leaned against him, tracing circles on his palm with his thumb. 'What happened?'

'I said I'd tell you later about what happened. Gilbert told Vati he was-' The last word was a whisper. 'Homosexual. That he loved Roderich. I think. I wasn't trying to hear, I never wanted to hear, I never wanted any of this.' He was shaking worse now, and his hand was a death grip, but Feliciano didn't care. The only thing that mattered was pulling Ludwig out of his mess of thoughts. Gilbert could wait.

'Did Vati throw him out?'

'No.' Ludwig looked down and loosened his grip. 'Not yet. Gilbert isn't talking to anyone. I just-I thought it would be later, I'm not ready, Feliciano. I don't want to be alone.'

'I know. I know.' Feliciano felt helpless in the worst way. 'You said there was an argument where Gilbert told Vati he was...like that?'

'Yes. And now Roderich is here.' Ludwig leaned against him. 'I feel like there's nothing I can do to make this better. I'm sorry.'

'Don't apologize,' Feliciano said, but it was too quiet in the silence. Ludwig didn't even react. He stared at the flowers growing in the flowerbed, the shade of his eyes. What they were hung between them, the unspoken knowledge and what if about if Ludwig ever told Vati.

It started to rain.

Ludwig looked up, and the smallest smile curved across his face.

'Can I help you garden?' he asked. Feliciano dropped his smock and hat and jacket under the awning of the house and worked silently beside him, shoulders bumping, hands tangling in the damp soil. Slowly, Ludwig began to talk again, about things like fear and back in Europe words, and Feliciano listened and ached and told him to talk to Gilbert. At the end, Ludwig told him ich liebe dich with a smile and gentle hands guiding him close and this time, when they kissed, it was soft and pained and grateful and tasted of something sweet and rain. When it was over, they sat outside and watched the sun.

The rain kept falling.

0o0o0o

Ludwig hurried to catch up to Roderich. He had been sitting on his side of the fence that separated his and Feliciano's yards. Roderich looked flustered when he came up.

'I wasn't supposed to be here,' he said. 'I need to go.'

Ludwig only had three questions. 'Are you in love with Gilbert?'

Roderich glanced around for people who might be listening, but something had changed in him.

'Yes,' he said lowly.

'What did Gilbert mean by your name being the same in Europe?'

Roderich took pause, and made a strange smile. 'We...used to know each other. In Berlin.'

The last one was less of a question than a statement. 'Do you know what happened when he told Vati about you?'

This time, Roderich straightened.

'He told me he was going to,' he said.

0o0o0o

It was an accident that Ludwig came home early a week after Roderich had arrived. Gym had been canceled, and he found Gilbert sitting at the table, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He started, but his movements were sluggish and off-centre, like his birdlike sharpness has lost a wing.

'You're not supposed to be here,' he said, voice raspy. It was the first words he'd said to Ludwig in so long. Ludwig wanted to be angry. He wanted to throw things and make Gilbert understand how scared he'd been.

'You're not supposed to be…'

'A queer? Drunk, either.' Gilbert's mouth curled in a savage imitation of a smile. His eyes were bloodshot. 'I told you not to take after me.'

'I wanted to,' Ludwig said, feeling like he was six and huddling in corners while Gilbert fought Red Army officers again. 'You were supposed to be a better big brother.'

Gilbert flinched at that. 'I tried,' he whispered. Ludwig came closer, prying the bottle out of his hands. Empty. It still reeked of alcohol.

'How much did you drink?'

'This was the first time. At home. And there was only three inches.' Gilbert gestured with his fingers about how much. 'It was too much. Roderich was too much, I couldn't resist.'

Gilbert-a disgraced angel with a chipped pocketknife, trying to be better, wanting to be a firebrand. Too loud and brash and important in his own world, and Ludwig couldn't keep up with the way he needed more and more and more of the fights and conflict that seemed to keep him alive even though they ate away at everything he was. Ludwig realized, in the dusty afternoon kitchen, that he really didn't know his brother anymore, if he had at all.

'You did take after me. After him,' Gilbert said, jerking his head at the armchair, but that didn't make sense. His eyes seemed slightly more lucid, sad and pained. 'Baby brother, I have one question. I won't hurt you no matter what you answer. You can lie to me, God knows I'd deserve it. But I won't hurt you and I will never tell.'

Ludwig already knew the question.

'Are you gay?' Gilbert asked, gently, soft hands and soft voice.

'Tell me first,' Ludwig demanded, even though he already knew. Gilbert didn't even protest.

'I am. I'm in love with Roderich Edelstein.' He said it so calmly, so easily.

Gilbert-selfish and selfless at all the wrong times, and Ludwig wanted to hate him, he wanted to with a fury, but he couldn't, not right now. Later. Later.

'I can't be,' Ludwig choked. Gilbert pulled him close and stroked his hair like he had when Ludwig was very young. He let him. He wanted to be younger again.

'I'll ask a better question. Are you in love with Feliciano?'

Ludwig tried to form the word, not knowing if it would be yes or no that he would say, and all that came out was a silent sob, and then another, and Gilbert held him while the horrible shaking noiseless fear leached out of him until he was empty again.

And then the words started spilling out of him, collapsing into his big brother's arms, trusting that he'd make the world safer and better for a moment, that he'd protect him, that he'd keep his promises. Everything Ludwig used to trust, he trusted again. 'I can't, because Vati's going to turn me out, and people will hurt Feliciano. I can't be. We've talked about it, and we're just us, but-' He was saying too much, too soon, but he couldn't stop. Ludwig took after his brother and couldn't keep his own secrets if it killed him. 'I've kissed him,' he said, and even though it hurt, it felt good to say.

'I thought so,' Gilbert said. Ludwig didn't have the energy to respond with all his questions about why Gilbert fought about it if he thought Ludwig was the same way. 'Vati won't turn you out. Especially if you keep quiet.'

'I don't want to keep quiet,' Ludwig said. He knew he sounded childish, but he didn't care.

'I didn't either, back in Europe.' Gilbert's hand moves a bit awkwardly over his hair. 'Baby brother, listen. We can't-you can't be like that here,' he amended after seeing the way Ludwig flinched at the word we. Ludwig wasn't ready to be like Gilbert was in any sense of the word.

'Where can I be?'

'Europe,' Gilbert said. They both knew that wasn't an option.

Gilbert let him step back, and Ludwig pushed back his hair and wiped off his face, trying to forget the way he'd cracked. Gilbert had an odd expression on his face.

'When did you start…' He waved at him, eyes lingering on his hair. 'You got taller.'

Ludwig didn't respond and Gilbert didn't push for an answer. Ludwig turned to go outside, to go to Feliciano and let himself be vulnerable around someone he was more sure wouldn't hurt him. At the last moment-he wasn't sure why-he looked back and asked, 'Did you know when I was kissing Feliciano?'

'I had an idea.'

'The first time was October third,' he said, and left.

0o0o0o

Pride and selfishness are most of their flaws, but difficult ones to overcome.

:: Suddenly, joyfully laughing because of simple things