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Gilbert rubbed the bridge of his nose, the sound of his bird squawking on his shoulder and directly into his ear. The damned thing had somehow picked up how to scream like a madman whenever someone opened or closed a door in the house.
It was good for intruders, Gilbert supposed, but it was pretty damn annoying when it was just Ludwig or Gilbert himself walking around the place.
Speaking of, Gilbert could already hear the door to his room opening and closing. A small sliver of light fell over his blankets and face, making him flinch. He was still ever so slightly hungover from that drinking session he had last night, trying to cope.
His room was a mess. The lace that created curtains down from the roof of his bed was stained with God knows what, and clothes, both clean and dirty, were scattered around the floor. Gilbert could even swear that some of Ludy's underwear were in there from whenever he had to tackle the kid to bathe him.
The sliver of light that had bothered Gilbert's eyes faded away as the door closed. The stupid yellow bird finally shut up, fluttering from Gilbert's shoulder to the bed canopy. It looked down curiously at the little boy wandering shyly into the room.
Gilbert sat up, his white hair falling back into his albino eyes. His gaze softened when he saw his little brother standing at the foot of his bed. The poor kid looked miserable, staring at Gilbert as if he had all the answers to all the bad things in the world. "Ach, Schnucki. Why are you crying?" Gilbert smiled pitifully, reaching over to pick up Ludwig and set him on his lap.
Ludwig whined and wriggled, his nose scruffed up as he scowled. Clearly, he didn't want Gilbert touching him in that moment. He stayed sitting in the triangle that his older brother's crossed legs formed, but shoved his hands off of his sides.
"Okay. But come on, Ludy. What's up with you?" Gilbert's face tightened at the pathetic smacks at his hands. He pulled back and rested his hands behind him to put his torso weight on them and lean back. "Can you tell me, please?" Gilbert's head tilted, trying to decode Ludwig's distress.
Ludwig's lips stayed pursed, his eyes averting down. His hands kneaded at his shorts, uneasy and fidgeting. He sniffled and licked a tear that had trailed down his cheek and towards the corner of his lips. Usual child stuff.
Gilbert rubbed his nose again. "Schnucki..." He groaned, realizing that Ludwig had involuntarily metaphorically sewn his mouth shut.
Ludwig always had that issue. When he was scared or frustrated, he'd freeze up and sit silently like a stone until Gilbert figured out what in the world he needed.
Gilbert always assumed it was from the trauma. Before Ludwig became--well--Germany! When he lost all those memories from his younger years. It must've done something to that sensitive mind of his. Poor kid.
"Okay, why don't you try to tell me with your hands what you want?" Gilbert finally said. He could see Ludwig's angry eyes lighten up ever so slightly at the prospect of being able to communicate without his throat shutting up.
Ludwig nodded, his only proper form of communication since he had stomped into Gilbert's room like a little prince. He thought for a moment before grabbing at the air with his small hands, seemingly mimicking that he was grabbing something. His eyes were determined, locked onto Gilbert's as if they had a telepathic connection somehow.
"... Grabbing..?" Gilbert cocked a silver eyebrow. His eyes narrowed as he tried to decode Ludwig's movements, even if they were painfully unclear. He bit his lips and rolled the chapped skin between his teeth, thinking about the hint. "Do you want a hug?" He offered, opening up his arms for a hug.
Ludwig shook his head aggressively. He whined and shoved Gilbert's hands away again, scowling. His hand latched onto his shorts again as he rocked to soothe himself. He thought again, and Prussia could almost see the gears grinding in his head. He elicited a frustrated hum.
Gilbert felt his patience growing thin. He loved his brother, yes, but God was this agonizing. Why couldn't Ludwig just open his mouth for once, damn it! The muscles in his arms visibly tightened, and his reddish eyes twitched in a narrow line.
Ludwig looked up at Gilbert after feeling his leg muscles tense up. He recognized the look in the older country's eyes all too well. Whenever Gilbert was still a bit hung on some drink or random drugs, he'd twitch with irritation to the point that Ludwig could feel it himself when touching his brother.
"God, Ludwig. Let's just get up and find whatever damn thing you need." Gilbert snapped, letting his face fall into his hands.
Ludwig's blue eyes dimmed, his face disturbingly neutral to hide the fear and distress that was really bubbling in his mind. But he got up from Gilbert's lap and shimmied his way off of the bed and onto a scattered pile of dress shirts on the ground.
Gilbert followed after, not realizing how his current hungover state was freaking his brother out. His bare feet patted against fabric and wooden floor as he headed for the door. He reached our over Ludwig to open it, and let the muted boy exit the room first before he followed.
The light from the hallway made Gilbert flinch and snarl under his breath. He was just in some pants, and his torso looked painfully dull under candlelight, especially for a man his age and size. He almost tripped over the edge of one of the many uniquely designed rugs that littered the floor.
Ludwig was almost closing in on himself. His back was ever so slightly hunched over so he could roll into himself to somehow escape needing to bother with Gilbert right now. He scratched at his wrist, which was already rough and bruised from his continuous habit of itching it when anxious.
Unsurprisingly, Ludwig was always anxious.
"Stop doing that." Gilbert urged, his attempt at comforting coaxing coming out of his mouth as a hostile demand. Even he wasn't sure what he was saying anymore.
Ludwig couldn't help it. Shut up, Gilbert, you'll only make him meltdown.
Somehow they'd managed to find their way into Ludwig's room. Plushies were lines orderly across the edge of his bed, like a little fluffy militia ready to take on the worst of Russia or France. It almost made Gilbert chuckle.
Ludwig instantly pointed to an empty spot in the line-up, where one of his plushies were supposed to sit. His little, pale hand tremored ever so slightly in the presence of Gilbert in his room.
Gilbert groaned, finally realizing what Ludwig was so stressed about.
He was missing one of his plushies.
Good Lord.
Gilbert nodded. "Okay. So one of your plushies is out of place?"
Ludwig nodded hastily.
"Which one is missing? You have too many, Ludy." Gilbert remarked, thinking about all the money he wasted on a simple toy to stop Ludwig from melting down instead of something actually important like food and beer. He couldn't remember which of the bunch was hidden around the house.
Ludwig thought, his mouth opening and then closing when he couldn't manage any words out. His hands reached up to his head, the finger tips pressing together to make a triangle shape.
Gilbert scowled again, sick of the mind games. But he knew what Ludwig meant now. His dog plush was missing. The black one with a red belly and sharp, at attention ears. It was the first Gilbert had gotten him after he woke up from that coma.
"The doggy? God. Okay, I'll help you find it." Gilbert sighed, defeated. He turned to leave the room again with a pretty good guess of where the plush was.
The attic. Ludwig's favorite place. It was hidden, quiet, and warm enough to feel like a cuddly blanker without having one actually on top of you. Ludwig would go there whenever he was frustrated or too overwhelmed. Sometimes Gilbert would even lock him in there just to let a meltdown run its course without giving Gilbert a few bruises.
Gilbert opened the small door, and immediately saw the dog plush on a pile of blankets, some Gilbert recognized as missing from his own bed. He grumbled and grabbed the dog, tossing it back to Ludwig who was watching him intently.
Ludwig finally lightened up, holding the plushie tightly to his chest. But it didn't last long when Gilbert turned around.
"God, Ludwig. Couldn't you have done that yourself? I shouldn't have to do everything for you. You're eight years old, for God's sake. You're not two." Gilbert lashed out, bottled emotions and bubbling beer in his gut egging on the anger behind it. Gilbert rubbed his face again, he was probably scratching his nose bridge open by now with how much he is rubbing and itching it. "Just.. Go to bed."
Ludwig's eyes looked at the floor, missing their shine. His bottom lip twitched, but he turned without struggle and headed back to his room.
Gilbert went the other way to his own room, his feet stomping against the wooden floor. He felt his forehead boiling at this point.
Once he was behind his closed door, Gilbert realized how he'd been practically yelling at Ludwig the whole time.
Those dim eyes...
The twitching lip...
Gilbert felt tears threaten to blur his sight as he began to pathetically sniffle. Why did he of all people have to take care of a little boy that can't speak for himself in public and freezes up like a spooked goat kid? Ludwig was a good kid, he really was. But...
Gilbert cried out, throwing a punch agaisnt the nearest wall and cringing at the sound of his bones cracking. Brick walls.
But the tears kept coming as he waddled his way through piles of clothes to his bed. He collapsed onto the mattress, digging his fingers into his blanket as he sobbed into it.
Gilbert silver hair fell into his shut eyes and tickled his almost white skin. He felt like a mess. A stupid, drunk, brother-hating mess.
Ludwig didn't deserve that.
Nobody did.
After a good half hour of crying, Gilbert heard the door open again. His bird squawked from atop his canopy, promoting Gilbert to look out from his wet, tear-stained blanket.
Ludwig quietly crawled up the bed, his small knees locking against the bedframe to push himself up. He had his dog plushie, but also a small handkerchief with him.
Silently, Ludwig wiped the moisture and tear stains from Gilbert's face, his expression neutral through all of this.
But out of all the late night charade games he had to play, Gilbert knew what Ludwig's handkerchief meant.
"I care for you. Through summer and joy, and rain and tears."
Gilbert weakly smiled at his little brother's efforts. He let Ludwig finish and signed quietly. "Thank you, Schnucki." He used the nickname gently.
Ludwig just nodded, his eyes averting back to his feet and his plush.
"Do you want to cuddle with Brüder?" Gilbert finally offered, extending them once again to Ludwig.
Ludwig sat for a moment before nodding the most subtle way he could. He shifted over with his plush, hooking onto it as he found himself a nice spot in the nook of Gilbert's shoulder.
Gilbert pressed a small kiss to Ludwig's forehead before properly laying down himself and pulling his little brother closer.
Maybe he could make this work out. With Ludwig.
He'd improve, he'd finally thrive.
Gilbert would be the good big brother Ludwig always needed.