/ Warning: Headcanons ahead. But then again, this entire story is full of headcanons. And I already warned you in the first chapter. So carry on. /

VIII

Ludwig

Los Angeles, USA. March 25, 10:00 am

It completely slipped Ludwig's mind that he should have been home by this day. The G8 Meeting was supposed to run for only three days, but because of Arthur's accident, the meetings had to be postponed. Well, supposedly only postponed. By this time however, he was forced to admit that the entire thing had been canceled altogether.

Nobody had been in the mood to sit inside a stuffy meeting room with the threat of a colleague's death looming over them.

Ludwig's relationship with Arthur had always been strictly professional, although there was a time when he greatly admired the man. He wasn't even sure if he should be saying that as if it wasn't true anymore. After all, he had admired the Brit because he had been a great and powerful empire - and Ludwig sought after an alliance with him several times, which the man promptly refused - but even now, when he was nothing more than an island nation, he was still one of the most powerful countries of the world.

Ludwig thought that maybe Arthur didn't really cease to be great.

But back to the topic at hand, Ludwig really should have been home by this day. He could only imagine what his brother had done to the house already...

He wasted no time in dialing his house phone in Berlin - he knew it was alright to call because at this time it would be around 7 in Berlin and it would be too early for Gilbert to hit the bar - and waited for his brother to pick it up with clenched teeth.

"Ja?"

"Bruder, the house is still standing, right?"

His brother's annoying laugh came out from the other end. "Of course, West. You have too little faith me."

"I have no faith in you whatsoever," Ludwig deadpanned.

"That's not a very nice thing to say to your older brother."

He scoffed. "If I didn't know what kinds of trouble you often get yourself into, I might. But I do, so no, I will not trust you with anything even remotely valuable."

Another laugh. "So what's keeping you there? Have you finally taken an interest in the easiest way to get a lot of money?"

"No, bruder. I still don't like the idea of gambling as a means of earning money. I'm still in Los Angeles because the meetings were postponed. Arthur got into an accident. He got hit by a truck."

A thud on the other end of the line made Ludwig think that Gilbert had dropped the phone.

"Was? I don't think I heard that right."

Ludwig sighed. "Arthur had an accident and is currently in a coma. I postponed the meetings but it doesn't look like we'll actually be going through with them anytime soon."

He could hear his brother's breathing over the line. "Arthur... Is in a coma?"

"Ja," Ludwig answered. When Gilbert didn't say anymore, he began to worry. "Bruder?"

"Arthur is in a coma..." he heard his brother mutter, again and again and again...

"Bruder, why are you so hung up on this? I wasn't aware that you two were close," Ludwig asked.

He heard a sharp intake of breath from the phone. "West... Ludwig. There's something I have to tell you. About you, me, and Arthur."

Ludwig frowned. His brother sounded abnormally serious. He wasn't sure if there was ever another time when he sounded like this. Whatever he was going to say was surely important.

"Go on."

"We... Ludwig, do you know who Arthur's parents were?"

"Just get to the point, Gilbert."

"You know that Arthur is British." It was an obvious fact. There was no way Ludwig didn't know that. "Well, have you ever wondered why Arthur was blond while the rest of the British Isles were...well, not? It's because he had a different father from the rest of them. That's who he got his hair color from."

Parents... The British Isles... A different father from the rest... Blond hair... A connection with Ludwig and Gilbert...

"Bruder, are you telling me that Arthur's father was-"

"Germania," Gilbert finished. "Friedrich Beilschmidt."

Ludwig almost dropped the phone in shock. If they had the same father, then that meant...

"Are you telling me that the three of us - Arthur, you, and I - are actually brothers?"

There was an almost inaudible "yeah" from the other end of the line. Ludwig thought his brother sounded embarrassed. And he damn well should be!

Ludwig was angry. If Gilbert had known, why wasn't he told? Why did his brother hide such an important thing from him? For how long? Did Arthur know about this?

He thought about it. Had Arthur known? If he had, the German figured that he must have been distressed. Gilbert hiding such a thing from everybody else meant that he didn't acknowledge their connection. It meant that he was ashamed of the connection. It meant that he didn't want the connection at all.

How long had Arthur looked at him and thought of him as the brother that he had but never had?

"What are you going to do now, Gilbert?" Ludwig was mad and he didn't bother masking it.

"I'm going there. I..." A pause. "I'm going to set things right."

"Gut. And I'm going to think of a way to catch up with him." Ludwig smiled despite the circumstances. He was still angry though. "To think that I'm actually related to the person I admire the most... I think it's an honor."

~.;*;.~

Los Angeles, USA. March 25, 7:08 pm

Ludwig was surprised when the Kirklands proposed that everybody should have some alone time with Arthur. They said that they knew that everybody had something they want to say to their youngest brother, even though the man wasn't even awake yet. It seemed like everybody had the understanding that whatever it is that they were going to say they didn't actually want him to hear but they want to tell him nonetheless.

They decided on the order by rock, paper, and scissors. Each of them were given an entire hour to say what it was that they wanted to say to their hospitalized brother or friend. Nothing will come out of that hospital room. Nobody will try to eavesdrop. It was all very systematic, something that Ludwig never thought can be done by his colleagues.

Considering the trouble and mischief the nations got themselves on a usual day...

It seemed that Arthur's influence was stronger than the German originally thought. Well, one more reason to admire the man, he supposed.

The lucky first person, Alfred, went inside the hotel room at around 1:00. Ludwig was eighth. He was the last one for the day.

When his turn came and he found himself alone with Arthur in the small hospital room, he didn't quite know what to say. What could he say? Is there something he had to say first?

"Hello, Arthur," he then began, sitting on the chair by the bed. He drank in the sight in front of him, a frail-looking man covered in bandages and hooked up to various machines. The ECG displayed a stable heartbeat but the Brit looked really pale. It contrasted with the image that Ludwig remembered.

"Gilbert told me about you and... Your connection to us." He paused but of course, the man on the bed didn't respond. "I... I'm actually a bit happy.

"I was angry at Gilbert, of course. Why did he have to hide that from me? It was a very important piece of information. I... I would have liked us to be brothers, you know? Maybe... Maybe things would have turned out differently if I had known. We could have talked and I could have been influenced by you. And you would have had another brother. A true younger brother, huh?

"I'm not saying that I could have replaced Alfred. He was important to you, anybody could tell. I'm just saying that..." Ludwig sighed. "I'm not really sure what I'm getting at either.

"I guess what I really mean is... I want to get to know you. Now that I know that we're actually brothers, I want to know you in the way brothers know each other."

Ludwig took a deep breath when he finished then smiled.

"I heard you liked baking. I do too. Maybe we can exchange recipes?"

/ Please review. :) /