Breathe Anew
Changed
Goodness! When the hell was the last time I updated this? Ugh, I'm sorry. This is a pretty awesome chapter too. Enjoy? I apologize if my updating goes down a bit, work started again and I'm already drained.
Characters: Someone else makes an appearance!
Breathe Anew
Changed
Gilbert ended up spending a few more minutes at the hospital, before saying bye to Matthew and going back to his place. He took a good look around his condo, before he took out a dozen of boxes and a good case of beer. He knew that the only way he would ever get through the cleaning that awaited him would be with alcohol in his system.
He started off with the main floor and it took him two beers before he actually removed the first picture frame and put it in a box. The dining room was a fairly easy room to do, all things considered. It only had five pictures of them on a small table. Gilbert found out that if he didn't look at the pictures, it was easier to deal with.
The kitchen was pretty much the same until he reached the cupboard where they kept their mugs. There was one mug that was a gift to him some three years ago that was hand painted by the two of them. The memories the mug held were dear to him and he didn't even know why he had to remove it, but he did.
By the time he reached the living room, six beers were consumed and somewhere along the line, tears started running freely on his face. He could only imagine what it would be like, once he would go upstairs.
The main floor was mostly filled with even more pictures and other little mementos of their time together. He only kept one of those many picture frames on the coffee table, since it showed them simply drinking beer and holding on to a massive trout. They went fishing one spring, a while back. Friends went fishing and if someone had something to tell him, then they could shove it up their ass.
He also left a hat and a scarf that he got Matthew in the closet; since he doubted that it would show that they were lovers. He tried making his way upstairs to clean up, but he couldn't make it past the third step, before he fell down in a heap of sobs.
That night, he didn't manage to sleep in his bedroom and he passed out drunk on the living room couch. He was awakened the following morning by a very persistent person knocking at the door.
"Fuck off!" He yelled out as he tried to cover his ears, but failed miserably. Either the nuisance did not hear him or they were dumb, but they continued knocking until he finally got up and made his way to the door. He was slightly surprised by who he found on the other side.
"I shoulda known you wouldn't leave me to my misery alone." He slurred out when he saw the mop of blonde hair atop of Francis' head.
"Well, you were not answering your calls last night and I was getting worried. I figured you could use some help and support from your friends." Gilbert looking up at him and he wasn't sure he fully understood what he was being told.
"Regarde qui est venu te rendre visite."/ "Look who came to visit you." Francis moved aside to reveal a slightly shorter man with brown wavy hair, tanned skin and bright green eyes that went with his ever present smile.
"Holy shit, Tony? What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were busy bending over for your lover down in South Italy!" Gilbert couldn't help but smile as he hugged his friend tightly. It was far too long since he saw the man.
Antonio, or shortly abbreviated to Tony and the two of them met on a camp outing. Antonio went to a different camp, but the three bonded over a game of laser tag and became inseparable.
His other friend was a year younger than Francis and of Spanish decent. He never saw his country of origin, but his mother abandoned him with his father shortly after his third birthday to go back to Spain. Antonio finally left himself for Spain one day, on a whim, after getting into an argument with his father and his step-brother, one Andrès Soàres, who he never got along with, from the moment they met. There was more to the argument, but Antonio preferred not to talk of it and Gilbert and Francis left it at that.
They didn't hear from Antonio for over a year, until he sent them both a letter explaining that he needed some time to figure things out and that he was sorry for treating them badly. By then, he found himself a small house with a bit of land and started his own tomato farm in the village where his mother was born.
That was when he had met the Southern Italian man and despite their rocky start, they were still going strong. He then followed the younger man to his own country and the last Gilbert heard; Antonio and Lovino were still living in Italy.
"Ah, mi amigo, you always had such a way with words!" The Spaniard told him patting him on the back and returning the hug.
"I left Lovino back home when Francis called. I knew that you needed me, so I came here as fast as the plane could." The three of them laughed. "I'm sorry for what happened to Matthew. Francis and I figured we could come and give you a hand with the clean up." Antonio told him with his bright smile that always managed to cheer him up.
"You guys are crazy, but sure, c'me in." Gilbert moved aside and let the two other men walk in to his place. Francis walked around the main floor, almost as if inspecting the condo.
"Relax Fran, I put everything on this floor away already and if you're spying for Arthur, you can tell him that I've put away all of my super evil tools of torture away, as well." Gilbert was sure that it would have gotten at least a laugh out of the older man, but Francis' smile was strained and Antonio looked away.
"Okay, what did I miss?"
"Ah, it's nothing for you to worry about. Let us just say that Arthur and I have not spoken to each other since that little argument at the hospital. I almost forgot what it was like to sleep on a couch. Mais bon, it is not the end of the world." He could tell that it actually did bother him and he felt bad for his friend.
"Listen, Francis, I'm sorry, I didn't know, man." The Frenchman stopped him with a gesture of his hand.
"Ne t'inquiètes pas pour moi. Arthur is going through a lot right now and he needs to sort through his own emotions. He will come around in due time. Now, how about we quit wallowing in our own self-pity and make this une bonne session de ménage?"/ "Don't worry about me. … a good cleaning session?" They nodded their heads, grabbed some boxes and made their way upstairs.
With the help of his friends, he was able to fix up the guestroom/study and change it into Matthew's room. They moved the younger man's clothes and possessions from the master bedroom to the slightly smaller room and in a matter of a few hours; the room looked as though Matthew always slept there. Gilbert was both pleased, but at the same time, it pained him much.
His friends noticed his sudden mood drop and they were quick to help him change ideas. They exchanged anecdotes from their past and it helped him some. The last room, their room, turned out to be the hardest of them all and he had to excuse himself more than once.
The bedroom was a real testament to their life as a couple and with everything that was put away, something inside of him withered slowly. From little hand-written notes, to more pictures, intimate little things and objects that only they could, used to, be able to make sense of, to their shared closet and dressers now only holding his things, he felt as though half of him was put away on a shelf, in the attic, in a matter of moments.
But eventually, after Francis opened up one, or two, or maybe even three of the bottles of wine, the last of his and Matthew's life together was boxed away for good. Antonio removed the frame he left downstairs and it took much convincing from the two older men that it was a good decision.
However, Gilbert drew the line when Francis came to pick up a little frame that was left on the night table. He left it there for a reason, mostly because it was his very favourite picture of the two of them, but also because he couldn't bring himself to live this lie and play the charade.
"Gilbert… we have been through this before. Everything needs to be put away. It is for Mathieu's own good." Francis told him calmly, but he didn't want to hear a word of what his friend had to tell him, not this time.
"It's one picture and it's staying in my room where Matt will probably never set foot in. I let you take down everything else, but please, let me keep this one. It's the only thing I have left." He didn't like pleading or begging, but sometimes, he had no choice. He could see his friend's resolve slowly cracking, until he finally relented.
"D'accord, but do be careful." Gilbert nodded absentmindedly and the remainder of the day was spent downstairs, in the living room, far away from the room, playing video games and drinking, acting like the mature adults that they were.
The rest of the weekend went by without anything of great importance happening. Antonio and Francis ended up crashing at his place and once Monday morning came, his living room looked like World War II happened. For a moment, he wondered what Matthew would say to it, but then he remembered that he was only going to pick up his "best friend" the following day, so he cleaned up a bit.
By Tuesday, he got up bright and early and drove to the hospital. Truth be told, he was nervous. He was nervous that he would screw something up and make things worse instead of better. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even realize that he made it to the hospital.
He quickly dried his palms on his pants before walking to Matthew's room; a room he wished he would never have to set foot in ever again. Matthew was dressed and sitting on the bed with the nurse talking to him. This was it, he supposed. He knocked softly on the door and the men turned to look at him.
"Well hello there, Mr. Beilschmidt. It's nice to see you." The dark skinned man told him.
"Likewise, Claude."
"Well then, Mr. Williams, I judge that you are in good hands. I hope to see the two of you under better circumstances next time." Claude waved them goodbye and then left them alone. There was a heavy silence in the room. Gilbert couldn't remember the last time he was in such a situation with Matthew before. It definitively felt unfamiliar.
"So, eum, you ready to go?" He finally asked.
"Yes, I guess there's no sense in staying here." Gilbert took his small suitcase with his personal belongings as Matthew got up and stumbled on his unsteady footing.
"Watch yourself, Birdie, here, grab my arm." He put the younger man's arm around his own and even though it was nothing more than that, it felt good to feel Matthew by his side. He missed the little touches and hugs.
"Do you live, I mean, do we live far from here?" Matthew asked, trying to make small talk conversation. Gilbert appreciated the effort.
"No, only fifteen, twenty minutes away." The other nodded his head as they made their way to the car. In the beginning, they were both silent. Gilbert was thankful for the radio, but he could feel Matthew staring at him with a small frown, almost as if something was bothering him.
"You know, you can ask me anything you want, I won't bite." He said after a while.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He paused. "It's just, it's infuriating. You're the only one I can't remember, I feel kind of stupid." Matthew sighed out.
"Don't, it's not your fault." It's mine. He added as a silent memento to himself.
"Could you, eum, well, could you tell me about yourself? That way I'll know something more." Gilbert almost wanted to laugh. Almost.
"Sure, well, let's see I work as a Public Relations manager for a company, but I also do some freelance on the side. That's how I started, really. I like sleeping in, I like beer, I'm not a morning person, I liked coming to see you play hockey on Saturday mornings and going for coffee afterwards." He started off. The last mention seemed to catch Matthew's interest.
"Really? Do you play? Maybe we could do some one-on-one someday!" Gilbert tried not to let his sadness appear in his smile.
"Sure, that would be great." But you were the one who taught me how to skate and play… His mind recalled with ease his first few times on the ice. How Matthew skated with grace on the side, but he was patient with him until he became semi-decent.
"Anything else you wish to know?" He asked to distract his thoughts.
"What's your family like?"
"I have a younger brother; he's about your age. My parents' moved back to Germany. My mom missed it too much and Dad got a job transfer there. Ludwig and I are happy here, so we didn't go with them. Anyways, here we are, home sweet home." Gilbert turned the car off and remained in the vehicle for a moment longer.
"I really lived here for two years with you?" Matthew asked after a moment as he looked at the building in front of them.
"Yup, those two years certainly went by fast." In truth, it was more like three years, but it wasn't official before that. It was more like Matthew often stayed at his place until they talked it over one night.
"Do I get a grand tour?" Gilbert blinked and focused his attention back on to Matthew. He supposed a grand tour was in need. He nodded, grabbed the bag from the back and the two walked to the front door.
Gilbert was ever the patient man and walked around the place showing Matthew where everything was. It was strange how the younger man recognized his belongings such as shirts and pants, cell phone and game console, but when he found a book and a scarf that Gilbert got him, he couldn't remember ever seeing them before. It infuriated the both of them.
When they got to Matthew's bedroom, Gilbert could see the slight frown on the younger man's face and he wondered if he had the same feeling that something was off about the arrangement, as much as he did.
"I wish I could remember." His once lover murmured mostly to himself.
"With time, the doctors' said you would."
"In that case, I hope they're right." And for his own sake, he hoped as well.
OWARI 9
TO BE CONTINUED
Andrès Soàres is Portuguese and is Antonio's half brother. He belongs to P. I borrowed him. I don't see the two getting along.
Next chapter, I expect to get hate from you guys. Oh the twists!
I do accept anonymous reviews.
Started writing: June 10th 2010, 6:28pm
Finished writing: June 12th 2010, 1:43am
Started typing: June 28th 2010, 8:14pm
Finished typing: June 28th 2010, 9:43pm