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“You were so small, weren’t you?” Gilbert mused, holding the photo of his little brother close to his face. He hadn’t realized how bad his eye sight had gotten in the past few years. He had to hold everything with words practically against his eye just to be able to read it. He had always had bad eyesight, being albino with weak eyes and all. But now, it was getting worse and worse to the point his eyes were rendered useless in bad lighting.. But he didn’t have much need for them anyways. He just laid around with nothing to do every day. Bothering Ludwig, teasing Feli… He didn’t need working eyes to be an ass.
“I guess so.” Ludwig shrugged. He was standing close next to Gilbert, glancing over his brother’s white head of hair to look at the photo of little child him. Ludwig wasn’t too fond of seeing photos of himself from his youth. He understood why Gilbert kept photos of him around the place, though. It was sentimental and he wasn’t an ugly child by any means, but it just brought back bad memories.
“Has Feli seen any of your baby photos? You looked so cute with your chubby cheeks.” Gilbert smirked, trying to pinch Ludwig’s grown cheek, just to be pushed away by his frustrated hand. But Gilbert could see Ludwig’s face grow slightly red. He was horrible at hiding his true emotions, and Gilbert thrived knowing that. Ludwig loved his awesome older brother, even if he’d never say it out loud.
“Yes, he's seen my baby photos,” Ludwig said, defeated by his brother's annoying insistence. “Also, stop calling Feliciano by his nickname. You and him are not nearly close enough to be on a nickname basis.” His nose scrunched up and his eyes tightened. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Ludwig was overly protective of his partner.
“We are too on a nickname basis! He calls me Birdie.” Gilbert shimmied his shoulders proudly. He placed the photo of little Ludwig back onto the counter they were standing against, and turned to Ludwig with his usual idle smirk.
“Everyone calls you Birdie, Gilbert. It's because of the damn bird on your head.” Ludwig swung his hand up to gesture at the yellow bird that sat nestled in Gilbert's silver hair. “That isn't unique to Feliciano.”
Gilbert tried to glance up at the quietly chirping bird that sat on his head. He occasionally forgot about the little critter, it was so chill and relaxed on his head that it rarely came to mind. It cooed and pressed its little face against Gilbert’s scalp, trying to warm itself in the cold of the winter evening.
“But he says it with that cute voice of his. ‘Oh Ludy! Is Birdie going to be there? Mama Mia, maybe he can bring the actual birdie too! Oh how I love his little birdi-’” Gilbert was unceremoniously cut off from his bad attempt at an Italian accent by Ludwig jabbing him in the stomach with his elbow. Ludwig had an unnaturally sharp elbow, so it hurt like hell when it was stabbed into Gilbert’s intestines. “Ach- Old man hurt! Old man hurt!” He whined, holding his stomach and dramatically throwing his head back, almost making the yellow bird tumble off.
Ludwig had to bite his lip and turn his face so Gilbert wouldn’t see his smirk. He headed towards the red sofa in the living room, where two of his dogs were already fast asleep and dreaming. He sat down, leaving enough space between him and the armrest for Gilbert to sit down. Ludwig rubbed his face and combed his fingers through his blonde hair, which now fell freely instead of being slicked back like it usually was.
Gilbert gladly took the invitation and sat down next to his brother. He fell back onto the sofa, making the pillows wheeze from his free fall. He followed suit, sighing loudly as he let his muscles relax. He fidgeted through the pocket on his green cargo pants until he got a grasp on his phone and pulled it out. He tried to open his favorite blog, but instead cringed when he could barely read any of the words. “Christ, I can’t read any of this.”
Ludwig, who had been busy petting one of his dogs, Berlitz, looked over and furrowed his eyebrows. “That font should be big enough.” He remarked. Gilbert gave him a dirty glare, which could only mean ‘Nice job, Sherlock’, so he clarified. “Do you maybe need glasses? We could get you some prescriptions tomorrow..” Ludwig asked, tilting his head with worry.
“No… Getting any kind of prescription here takes years on end and I don’t need glasses anyways.” Gilbert shook his head. “You know, with being dissolved and all.”
“You’re not dying, Gilbert,” Ludwig said sternly, almost saying it like a command. “We’ve already established that. You’re fine.” He looked away from Gilbert again, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Ludwig knew all too well about the unavoidable event of a country dissolving. They wea
ken and weaken, becoming bedridden until they pass alongside their nation. But with Gilbert as the East, he wouldn’t die any time soon. Even with Prussia gone, Gilbert would live. Still, it felt like Gilbert had been rotting away just a bit more every single day.
“Don’t worry yourself, Ludy.” Gilbert shook his head, patting Ludwig on the shoulder. “I’ll be fine either way.” His smirk turned into something more like a passive smile, and his eyelids jittered ever so slightly when he blinked.
That answer didn’t satisfy Ludwig. He frowned, trying to decode what his brother was thinking at that moment. “What is up with you, Gilbert?” Ludwig finally said. “You’re digging up old stuff again, trying to involve yourself with everything Feliciano and I do…” He shook his head, rubbing the corners of his eyes. “What do you want?”
Gilbert blinked, his ruby eyes wide at the sudden confrontation. He almost didn’t know what to say to Ludwig for a second. He didn’t really even know the answer himself. Why was he digging up old stuff again? He had just found Ludwig’s childhood clothing the other day, and was fawning about it like a madman. No wonder Ludwig was suspicious, it was horribly out of character for Gilbert to care about anything but himself.
Ludwig cocked an eyebrow, waiting for Gilbert’s response. He was shocked himself that he had managed to catch Gilbert in a stalemate of silence, but he refused to show it on his expression.
“I…” Gilbert looked down at his lap. The silence returned once again, only interrupted by a chirp of the bird perched on Gilbert’s head. Gilbert’s legs seemed to blur into one mass as he zoned out at the lap. But the feeling of Ludwig’s eyes on him made Gilbert snap back up into a straight back stance. “I… I guess I’m just afraid.” Gilbert admitted, his throat tight on his words.
Ludwig let out a breath through his nose, his eyebrows just ever so slightly curving down towards his nose bridge.
“Maybe I’m afraid of becoming more incompetent than I already am.” Gilbert nodded. He felt the tremor deep in his chest, but refused to let it become audible. “Worse than a couch surfer is a blind couch surfer that can’t do anything to help out around the place.” Gilbert laughed, rather pitifully. It was a cover up to hide the shiver in his voice that involuntarily bubbled up with his words.
“You’re not incompetent, Gilbert.” Ludwig tilted his head more, trying to get Gilbert to look at him face-to-face. “You’re also not a couch surfer. You live here.” Ludwig had to admit, he wasn’t the best at comforting people. His monotone voice and his hostile expression didn’t help in the slightest, but maybe his presence helped Gilbert just a little bit. Hopefully.
“I only live here because you took pity on your poor brother that was about to be dissolved.” Gilbert smirked, weakly so. “You’re the man of the house now! I’m just..” He looked back at his feet. “Retired.” He took a deep breath. “A retired man going blind at that.”
Ludwig just nodded. He knew Gilbert wasn’t done talking. When Gilbert was done, he’d lower his shoulders and triumphantly smack his lap and go on elsewhere to do something. But his shoulders still sat tight near his neck. He wasn’t done quite yet.
“It feels like a sick punishment, doesn’t it?” Gilbert spoke up again, proving Ludwig’s assumption correct. “Being dissolved didn’t kill me, so it’s taking my sight instead.” He hissed under his breath. “Fate is making sure that I don’t try to do anything dumb anymore.” Gilbert scowled for a while, but quickly built up a smile. “It knows I’m an idiot.” He laughed.
Ludwig looked down at Gilbert’s shoulders. Still tense. But after a good minute, Gilbert still wasn’t speaking up. He was bottling it up.
“Gilbert,” Ludwig said.
“Hm?” Gilbert tried to look normal as he tilted his head towards Ludwig. He blew a stray stand of hair out of his face, somehow keeping his eyes on his brother.
“You’re not telling me everything,” Ludwig said factually.
Gilbert frowned. Damn Ludwig, reading him like an open book. What a prick. But Gilbert couldn’t deny that Ludwig was right. He still had more to say and think about, but he had no idea how to start.
“Why are you digging through all our stuff?” Gilbert eased with relief when Ludwig started the conversation instead. “You’re making a mess by cluttering up storage.” Ludwig cringed at the image in his mind of the attic, cluttered with rogue clothes and stuff. “It’s unlike you.” He added. If there was one thing he and Gilbert had in common, it was order and cleanliness.
“Ach.” Gilbert looked away from Ludwig with a sour expression. “I’m just thinking about the past a lot. On top of going blind.” His voice lowered in volume. “I don’t really know how to describe it.” That was a lie. Gilbert knew exactly how to describe what he was feeling. “My main thought is, if I’m going to go blind one day, then all I’ll remember seeing is the past.” Gilbert shrugged with one of his shoulders. “Just see it as me trying to remember everything as vividly as possible.” He waved a dismissive hand.
Ludwig nodded. For a second, he wanted to say something. Maybe something about how they could try to reverse Gilbert’s growing blindness, or how he should at least clean up after himself. Nothing felt exactly right at the moment, so he stayed silent instead.
…
“Was I a good parent?”
“What?” Ludwig didn’t expect a question like that.
“I mean, did I do a good job raising you?” Gilbert rephrased, twiddling his fingers as he leaned back onto the red sofa. He avoided eye contact with Ludwig, sudden shame at the question coming over him.
Ludwig’s eyes were unnaturally wide. His mouth hung ever so slightly open as he stared at Gilbert. How was he supposed to answer that? Did Gilbert raise him? Yes. Did he do it well? That was questionable. And was Gilbert a good parent? Had Ludwig ever even considered him to be a father figure over a brother?
“It’s okay if I wasn’t. I had a lot of crap going on during your vital years, I wouldn’t be surprised if it affected you at some point.” Gilbert laughed, the sound a shallow cover-up.
“I wouldn’t say that you ruined my life,” Ludwig said, timidly. “You taught me how to survive and be decent in meeting,” he remarked, somehow cracking a smile. “You did well enough, Gilbert.”
Gilbert smiled. That was probably the biggest compliment anyone could force out of Ludwig. Gilbert shook his head, feeling the yellow bird on his head shift and chirp.
But when Gilbert looked back up at Ludwig, his blurred vision made way for a little boy with shaggy, blonde hair and bright blue eyes. His image was clear, vivid in Gilbert’s mind. The boy stared before smiling, and the blurred figure of Ludwig returned in focus.
Gilbert grinned, his hands reached out to pull Ludwig closer, giving him a tight hug. “Thanks, kid.” He murmured.
Ludwig’s eyes widened, but he slowly hugged back, his much larger arms wrapping around Gilbert. He leaned into the familiar touch of his brother holding him. He’d never admit it, but through sight and blindness, though war and peace, he’d always appreciate his stupid older brother.