Or 'In Which Gilbert is the Almighty Awesome Saviour of the Earth' but it didn't fit :I
Hey guys! Kitty29 here with the third chapter of 'To Follow The Music.' It's in this chapter that it begins to get a bit more serious (but not completely, it can never be with Gilbert)
Gah, why the heck am I writing so much? Seriously, not cool, stop you hardcore writing inspiration. I curse you hard. Pssstttt...
Enjoy and review!
Instead of remembering the trivializes such as the exact date he instead focused on how many days until he would obtain his wonderful singer, which was, as of now, about four and a half days away. He was so happy at that fact that he didn't even bitch about the sudden chill that somehow managed to find his way into his clothes as he walked.
Still though, where the hell did that chill come from? It may be night but it was sill frinkin' June for fucks sake.
...Okay so maybe he was bitching a bit but fuck it he could do whatever he wanted. It was his thoughts.
The albino rubbed his bare arms in an attempt to gather some kind of warmth as he walked. About five hours earlier he had a sudden burst of inspiration and so ran (okay bussed but ran sounds more epic) over to Antonio's school to force him to help write up a song instead of studying. Though the Spaniard was practically dead due to the all-nighter he had pulled the night before to finish up a paper, he still managed to think up a pretty decent tune(with a drum solo, of course). Gilbert stayed until he was kicked out by a couple of Antonio's medical friends who noticed that their friend desperately needed sleep and the albino was the only thing between him and the bed.
So here's where Gilbert was now. He took the bus to get back home but had gotten off a bit earlier so that he could take the shortcut though the park. He hummed the melody that he and his drummer had just come up with as he ventured on, looking down at the sheet that contained the lyrics. It may have been just the first drift and needed some serious fine tuning before he could officially call if awesome it was still pretty damned catchy. His singer would love it! He'd have to be a frinkin' vegetable to not love it!
He cussed quite loudly when a sudden strong gust of wind blew the paper out of his hand. He immediately gave chase.
"Get back here you fucking—!"
Dammit he wasn't going to lose the song he had been working on for the last four hours! Especially not when he had to slap his friend awake every two minutes so that it could get written! The paper flew off towards a nearby park bench and Gilbert thanked whatever god was on his side that there was someone sitting there. The paper caught under the unknowns foot and stayed unmoving, effectively trapped. Gilbert slowed to a stop as the stranger reached down and picked it up. They held it out to the albino but didn't look up at him.
"Uh, thanks," Gilbert said, taking back his lyrics and stuffing them in his pocket before he looked over the suspicious looking kid. They were dressed in black from head to toe with a baggy hood covering their face. Their clothes were so big on them that Gilbert couldn't even tell if it was a girl or a boy. Though with the others small fame and the bit of longish blond hair that poked out of the hood he assumed it to be a her.
But the black wasn't the oddest thing about her. The oddest thing was the hockey stick she was clutching onto as if t was some kind of life saver. Huh, but whatever. He would be more surprised if he found her to be some normal kid siting there at this time at night. The weirdos always came out after hours.
"What the hell are you doing here so late, huh? Shouldn't you be at home or something, kid?"
The younger person flinched at the others accusation and turned away even further. Gilbert raised an eyebrow at the, he assumed to be young, girls reaction. He wondered what could have caused a reaction like that when he noticed it. Resting against her legs were two bags that, though small, looked like they were stuffed to the brim. She had too much stuff to be homeless and looked far to young to be some kind of backpacker. That left just one last opinion.
She was a run away.
Gilbert suddenly felt himself sympathetic. As he was also a ran away he could relate to the girls distress. He moved over and sat on the bench making sure to sit far enough so he wouldn't seem like some paedophile.
"So. Ran away, huh?"
The girl was so surprised at being seen through so quickly that she whipped her head around to look at Gilbert. Her hood was so large, however, that it cast heavy shadows over her face(that fact that the nearest street lamp was behind her didn't help either). The only thing that Gilbert would see clearly were her lips, which were parted slightly in shock.
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna report you or anything. I ran away from home too. I know what it's like."
She closed her mouth and turned away from the silver haired man again, her grip on the hockey stick tightening. They stayed in silence for a bit, the girl obviously waiting for the other to leave but Gilbert making no move to do so.
"Do you even know where you're staying tonight?"
She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Her silence was her answer. With a small chuckle Gilbert stood.
"C'mon, my house is close by. You can stay the night."
Again the girl stared at Gilbert in surprise. Gilbert smiled down at her and waited for her to move so that she could gather up her things. But she did nothing. Just stared. He frowned.
"It's not everyday that people get invited back to my awesome house to sleep over, you know. Plus it gets cold at night."
As if to further prove his point a chilly wind rolled by. The girl shivered and pulled her sweater closer to her body. There was only a moments hesitation before she laid her hockey stick against the bench and swooped down to grab her stuff. After everything was placed back on her she took a deep breath, as if mentally preparing herself to something, before she grabbed the stick and stood.
"Good choice," Gilbert said with a smirk before he began walking slowly so that the girl could follow. "I tell you kid, I wish there was someone as awesome as me to offer a bed when my brother and I ran away from home. Then again their probably isn't anyone who's as awesome as me any..." He trailed off in his rambling to instead stare at the girl as she walked. No, not walked. Limped.
Now he understood why she had the hockey stick. It wasn't because it was some prized possession or something that she could stand to leave behind. It was because she needed it to be able to walk out of the house in the first place.
Damn... this girl had it a lot worse than he and Ludwig did.
/ / / \ \ \
"Gilbert! Gilbert!"
The mentioned albino groaned as the pounding on his door continued. He groggily pushed himself onto his elbows and looked at his clock. 8:34.
...
8:34?
"What the fuck West!" Gilbert cried as he flopped back ever so gracefully on his bed. "It's fucking eight thirty four! Why the fuck are you waking me up so fucking early you fucker!" Pause. "Fuck!"
The male on the other side of the door chose to ignore all of his older brother's swears. "East, there is a random person in our kitchen who says you invited them to stay the night. Should I be concerned?"
What? A random person...?
"Oh," Gilbert said as he remembered the runaway from the night before. "Oh right. Do me a favour and make 'em breakfast or something, kay?"
Just before the albino began to fall asleep again his brother responded with something that gained his interest. "But East, he's the one making breakfast for us."
This was enough to get Gilbert out of bed for two reasons. First, shit that guy was a guy? Damn he needed to eat more. Second, no one ever cooked for them, ever. At least not using their kitchen. The last time someone tried(which was a certain Brit) it had ended with blacken goo on the ceiling that took a whole month to get off. So imagine his surprise when he walked into his kitchen and found it, not only not on fire, but smelling of delicious...pancakes?
As soon as he entered the room the boy looked up from the stove to smile at him. He wasn't dressed in all black like the night before, instead he wore a simple long sleeved shirt, some simple blue jeans and a rather cute light grey hat. He was a young teen of possibly sixteen of so with longish blond hair and large violet blue eyes. Huh, weird colour. Then again his were red soooo...
The kid's gaze wondered down to his chest before he blushed and looked away. Confused, Gilbert looked down at himself and realized that in his usual morning daze he had forgotten to throw on a shirt and had instead just wondered out in his boxers. Oh well, at least he didn't have morning wood. Now that would be awkward.
"Shit you're a guy," Was the first thing that Gilbert decided to say to the young boy as he shuffled a yawn.
Though the blond didn't seem find any offence to it at all as he turned off the stove and turned back to the albino. "I wanted to thank you for letting me stay so I made breakfast. I-I hope you don't mind that I used your stuff..."
"...Shit, you talk," Gilbert said rather elegantly in response. Slightly annoyed, Ludwig decided that now would be a good time to push past his shorter brother and make his way into the kitchen.
"It's fine. I'm Ludwig by the way," The German introduced as he grabbed the plates of food and carried them to the table(for he too noticed the boy's limp and rather him not walk around more than necessary). "And this is Gilbert."
Gilbert raised his hand half heartily before he went over to the table and dropped himself down in a chair. "Yeah that's the awesome me. Sorry about having to sleep on top of the couch I just remembered we have a pull out bed."
Ludwig sent his brother a disapproving stare but the Prussian pointy ignored it in favour of piling stacks of pancakes on his plate. The young boy just nodded before he began his slow and, slightly painful to watch, way out of the kitchen, leaning heavily on the counters as he went. Gilbert didn't even notice. He grabbed the maple syrup he rarely used and drizzled some on top of the flat cakes. He was half asleep at the time but as soon as he bit into that fluffy piece of heaven he was fully awake.
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
HOLY FUCKING SHIT.
These were the best pancakes in the history of the world. EVER.
"You are not eating with us?"
His brother's gruff voice knocked him from his thoughts and he looked up to see the blond swinging his last bag over his shoulder and grabbing hold of his hockey stick.
"N-no, you've done more then enough. Thank you very much for letting me stay but I have to go."
Wait, what? No. This kid couldn't leave, not when he could make pancakes this awesome. He had to find some way to get the kid to at least stay another day, just long enough so that he'll make these pancakes again tomorrow. He needed something clever, something that only the awesome him could think of...
But in the end Gilbert didn't have to do anything. For only after one feeble step towards the door the boy collapsed to the ground. Both brothers were up and running to his side as soon as he was down.
"Are you okay?" Ludwig asked the dazed teen. The boy just nodded before he attempted to push himself off the ground but just couldn't seem to gather the strength and flopped back down.
"No, I-I'm fine, really," the boy insisted, when after the second attempt at gathering himself up failed. Ludwig was obviously not convinced and bent down to easily host up the boy bridal style. The boy squeaked at suddenly being in the air but could only grab onto the others shirt and try not to fall as he was carried. He was gently settled down on the comfortable couch in the next room over before he felt a large hand rest against his forehead.
"He's running a fever," Ludwig said to his brother who simply watched from the sidelines, not to sure what to do.
"N-N-No really I'm fine, rea-really I-I—" Before the boy could continue to deny his obviously ill state he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and lunched into body wracking hacks. It was so bad that every time the kid coughed it looked like his body went though a mini spasm. Though it was actually a bit funny to watch Gilbert couldn't help but feel useless as he could think of nothing to help the small boy. As the boy continued to cough that hat he was wearing slipped off his head and now the two man could see why he wanted his head covered. Starting from the side of his face and stretching out past his hair line was a very nasty bruise that looked fairly recent.
"Shit..." Ludwig started and Gilbert couldn't help but turn his stare to his brother. Ludwig nearly ever swore. This had to be serious. "I think he needs to go to the hospital."
"We can't go to the hospital," Gilbert stated and Ludwig frowned at him.
"Why?"
"'Cause he's a run away! If we take him to the hospital they're just gonna contact his family and he'll go back to whatever ass hole did..." He gestured to the bruise. "That to him."
"...Fine. What should we do?"
"...Give me your phone."
The German complied before he left to go get some water for the sick blond. Quickly Gilbert dialled the number he had in mind, he just hoped he wasn't busy. At this time of day he was either getting ready for class or drooling on top of a thick textbook. Thankfully it was proven to be the latter as a very groggy voice answered with a slurred 'hello?'
"Antonio!" Gilbert called into the phone. "I need you to bring all your medical shit down here as fast as you can!"
The Spaniard sounded much more awake when he spoke next. Probably because he sensed the distress in his friends voice. "Gilbert? Gilbert what's wrong?"
"I got a kid here with a temperature and some...well...bruising that I need you to look at."
There was a pause before there was some shuffling over on Antonio's side. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes." He guaranteed before hanging up the phone.
The teen, now over his coughing spell, quickly put his hat back on even though he knew the damage had been done. Again, he tried to get up but Gilbert pushed him back down.
"Damn kid you're a stubborn one," the Prussian commented. The blond turned away from the other.
"I-I don't want to bother you..."
Huh, really weird kid. If Gilbert looked was as sick as he was they couldn't get him to move if they dangled a steak in front of him. Here this kid couldn't wait to leave.
"Kid, leaving would be more of a bother to me," Gilbert stated. "If I turn on the news and find you dead ten feet from my house the cops will be all up my ass. So you staying would really be more of a benefit to me."
The young male didn't reply but he physically relaxed back into the couch. Fifteen minutes then passed with no excitement (though Gilbert went to throw some clothes on himself when he realized his half naked state was making the kid uncomfortable) before the door slammed open to reveal the Spanish man they were waiting on. He wasted no time in heading to where the others were, medical kit in hand and stethoscope thrown sloppy across his shoulders.
"Where is he?" Antonio demanded and Gilbert couldn't help but be taken back by his friends serious expression. He knew how much his drummer loved kids but seriously...whoa.
"He's sleeping on the couch," Ludwig answered for him before he grabbed his brother and lead him away so that Antonio could do...whatever he planned to do.
"Hey, ow, West not so hard!" Gilbert hissed when the others grip was far harsher than needed. Though Ludwig's grip didn't lessen, he didn't even let go into they were back in the kitchen.
"Antonio? Antonio is your answer!" Ludwig exclaimed in an angry whisper. "He's a med student!"
"Hey! He's almost done med school, fuck!" Gilbert countered back, not following his brothers example of being quiet. "What the hell would be your bright idea?"
"This wouldn't have happened in the first place if you didn't bring random people to our house!"
"Oh! So now you're saying I should have left the kid to die?"
"No! I'm not saying that! I saying that the last time you brought in some random our DVD player went missing! What if this kid turned out to be a murderer?"
"Fuck West! This kid could be fucking dieing and all you care about is yourself!"
"AH-HEM."
The two stopped in their arguing to turn towards a slightly irritated Spaniard, who was leaning against the frame work with his arms crossed. The two looked awkwardly at each other before Gilbert decided to walk away and sit down at the table. Oh right pancakes! With everything going on he forgot about the best breakfast ever.
"How is he?" He heard his brother ask he he took another bite of heaven.
"His fever should go away with rest..." Antonio started with a sigh. "But I'm more concerned about the bruises he has over his body."
"Wait, it's not just his head?" Gilbert asked with a mouth full of pancake. The dark haired man ignored that fact as he shook his head, his expression somber.
"From all the marks it looks like he's been going through this abuse for a while. I wouldn't be surprised if there were some...inner issues. We need to get him to a hospital to take some tests."
"No," Gilbert protested, his pancakes now finished (fastest eater in his family!) "The kid's a run away. We stick him in a hospital and whatever ass that's been hitting the poor kid will know exactly where to find him. Can't you get one of your medical friends to do the tests?"
Antonio bit his lip at the request. Sure he knew people who would do it, but if any of his superiors found out he was using equipment without permission he would be in serious trouble. Especially since he was still a student. But this kid was still so young, he would have to be heartless to not do everything he could to help. With a hesitant nod he agreed. "I...I'll see what I can do."
He turned and left the two alone once more. Ludwig sighed before he moved to sit down at the table, putting his head in his hands. Living with Gilbert was never...boring that he could admit. But truthfully, he would do anything to have just one boring day with his brother.
"I probably saved his life you know," Gilbert said. Ludwig looked up to glare at him
"I'm not calling you the 'almighty awesome saviour of the earth'."
Gilbert smirked before he grabbed onto Ludwig's plate of untouched pancakes and dragged it towards himself. "The fact that you said it is good enough for me."
Though Ludwig had never smoked a cigarette in his life, he wondered if now was a good time to start.
I wonder how many times Gilbert used the f-word in just this chapter alone. It must be at least in the double digit mark, that potty mouth.
Thank you zero434, digi-smile, xxassassinxx18, magicattack24, Sybil Corvax, Italiangurlinamessedupworld, ISayWhatWithWho, fairy-hime-108, Chocola Emo Shizzle and Ember for the reviews!