Hello, I actually wrote this chapter a long time ago, but failed to post it for whatever reason. I don't know if I will continue this story, as my knowledge and writing skills have changed significantly since writing the first chapter. It's a shame, I did have it all planned out, but I've since gone on to others things. Thank you all sincerely for reading, and who knows? I will always love this story, and perhaps you will be surprised again in the future ;)

Leafing through the book in his hands, Gilbert couldn't help but steal glances at his companion. Currently, Matthew wasn't looking his direction, too engrossed in what he was furiously writing down in his journal to pay Gilbert any heed. Not that he minded any, it just gave him more time to study the other man without relying on looking out of the corner of his eye under the guise of skimming through his novel. He smiled as he watched Matthew lean even closer to his work, eyes tracing the serious look on his face as he focused on his task. Usually, Matthew seemed to be eternally just a bit on edge—all nervousness and stutters—but when he was writing, he seemed to be a completely different person. Totally absorbed in his work, his insecurity melted away; all hesitance forgotten as he suddenly seemed to radiate confidence and surety. It reminded Gilbert of that day, a little more than a week ago, when Matthew had comforted him. His breath caught as he recalled the steadfast look in the other's eyes while he reassured him. Ever since then, he and Matthew had found themselves spending more time together, especially on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which were Matthew's scheduled "independent time." Usually, they just ended up talking, but today Gilbert had agreed to help Matthew with a new story he was writing. Given that his time away from Alfred had just been increased from forty-five minutes to an hour, Matthew had been considerably more tense this afternoon, but Gilbert's offer seemed to do the trick. Excitement seemed to temporarily replace his anxiety, and he welcomed the distraction.

Gilbert on the other hand, just genuinely liked spending time with Matthew, and found himself enjoying his time with him more and more each day. It felt as if he had spent his entire life surrounding himself with the wrong type of people. Boisterous party types, seasoned adventurers in the worlds of drugs, sex, or both, and washed up barflies all happened to be present in his usual crowd as if he thought the meaningless noise would distract him from the cacophony of his inner turmoil. And then there was Matthew. Quiet, cautious Matthew, who spoke so softly Gilbert could easily miss his words if he wasn't paying enough attention, but lately that was never the case. Whenever he was around him, Gilbert found himself enraptured, hanging on every word that was said. Matthew put so much thought into everything he said, Gilbert couldn't help but be captivated. Being with Matthew was nothing like anyone he had ever engaged with before, instead of a whirlwind of activity or a sensory overload of sights, sounds, and touches, Matthew was just Matthew, and in the moment Gilbert felt so singularly focused on the other. It was a blissful feeling, to be wrapped up in another person's presence. He felt suddenly grounded, as if Matthew tethered him to the physical world, slowing down time and stopping the chaotic spinning of the horrendous carnival ride that was his life. How could had he possibly gone his entire life without living in his presence? He smiled broadly, probably looking dopey as hell as he continued to gaze at the man before him, drinking in his features. He hadn't felt this happy in months, it was as if he had fallen off balance and had finally reached equilibrium. If only he could remain this way forever. He sighed, enamored by the feeling of security he had found himself to be feeling whenever Matthew was around.

Suddenly, his reverie was shattered by an tentative voice. "Gilbert? Gilbert!" Startled, Gilbert scrambled to grab his book, snapping his face back toward it as he all but shoved his face into its open pages.

"Gilbert?" Matthew asked again. "Are you alright?"

"Mmmhmm…" Gilbert mumbled, feeling his face grow hot at the prospect of being caught. He hoped Matthew hadn't caught him staring, he didn't want him to get the wrong idea or anything. But…what exactly was the wrong idea? Gilbert himself hadn't really put words to what he was currently feeling. Peaking over the cover of the book, he risked a glance at Mathew only to see that he was currently staring curiously up at him from his usual spot on the floor. Gilbert had given up on trying to get Matthew to sit on Lovino's bed, as the he seemed to scared of the Italian's rage to tempt fate in that regard. Similarly, sitting together on Gilbert's bed still seemed mutually off limits, as if it was against some unspoken agreement or part of some conversation they were both too afraid to have. Matthew sighed, feigning exasperation as his lips turned up into a small smile.

Shaking his head, he asked, "So, did you find anything useful?" but upon seeing Gilbert's confused look, added, "You know, in the book?" Gilbert glanced down at the book he supposed to be skimming for inspiration. It was another of Lovino's endless supply of romance novels: this one featuring Fabio clutching ship's rope in one hand and busty maiden in the other. Secretly, Gilbert was kind of glad he still had no idea what this one was about.

He shrugged, tossing the book aside. "Nope, nothing good here!" he answered.

"Shouldn't you be a little more careful with Lovino's things?" Matthew asked, sounding worried. Gilbert just laughed.

"Don't worry, Lovi doesn't care." He said, chuckling a little more before explaining, "He has thrown these things more times than I can count and often it's when he trying to peg me in the head. Once he even chucked one in the toilet."

"O-oh, alright then," Matthew said, sounding unconvinced. He fiddled nervously with the pen in his hand. "O-okay, so…I still need some inspiration. What about you?" He mumbled the last part, turning bright red as he said the words.

"What about me?" Gilbert asked, feeling a bit hot in the face himself. What could he possibly mean by that? Did he want to—?

Fortunately, Matthew quickly clarified, "I mean, you seem pretty experienced…maybe you could help me realize this next scene?" Okay, so that's what he meant. He just wanted some personal experience to help him write. Wait, not an experience, a narrative of personal experience. Matthew didn't want to experience something with him. Gilbert sighed in relief, but couldn't feel a strange sense of disappointment.

"Alright, I can probably do that." He said. "After all, I have many a tale of awesome escapades." At that, Matthew only blushed harder, turning an impossible shade of red. He pulled his knees to his chest and began leafing through his journal nervously. Finally finding the page he was looking for, he sat up straighter, looking Gilbert in the eyes tentatively.

"O-okay, so…I wanted this character to be engaged in a secret relationship, b-but hi—her brother wouldn't approve, so she has to keep it from him." He explained. "Have you ever, um, snuck around like that?"

From all the blushing and nervousness, Gilbert would have thought the content of the scene would have been a little more risqué than a simple tale of forbidden love. He hummed approvingly, certain now that Matthew had absolutely no experience in such things. It struck him as adorable.

"Hell yeah I have," he laughed. "My father didn't allow me to date until I graduated high school…technically. That of course did nothing to stop me from scoring with the entire cheerleading squad." It might have been his imagination, but he swore Matthew squeaked at that statement. "What do you want to know?"

Matthew shrugged, still looking a bit red. "I, uh, don't know. Maybe the rush? The allure? Was it more, you know, exciting?" he said, picking up speed as he became more excited about the prospect of writing such emotions.

"Did you ever get caught?" he almost whispered, as if he too, was now involved in the conspiracy. Gilbert could barely contain a laugh, Matthew was just too cute sometimes. He moved to sit up on his bed, crossing his legs. Resting his hands on his lap, he leaned forward for emphasis.

"Well, there was this one time…" he said, smiling as he recalled an old memory, long forgotten until this moment. "I having some fun with this one girl, one of my favorite hookups. She was smoking hot: nice ass, great tits, and a mouth to die for, you feeling me?" he looked over to Matthew who only nodded, his crimson face of mixture of embarrassment and confused naïvety. "She had these captivating blue eyes that she would stare up at me with, and she always wore her blond hair in these cute low pigtails that I just loved to mess up when she—" He cut himself off, reveling in state of embarrassment he had caused in his friend.

"Should I continue?" he asked playfully. Matthew jumped a little, looking a little surprised at the interjection.

"Yes!" he squeaked, jotting something down in his notebook as if he had just now remembered the purpose of Gilbert's story. "Keep going!"

"Alright," Gilbert chuckled. "Anyway, we had a lot of fun together. Maybe it was because we were both trying to keep things quiet. It was cliché really, the quiet, good girl messing around with the school's bad boy. Holy hell though, was she a freak in bed—or in our case locker room benches, backseats, and public restrooms. We kept hooking up throughout Junior and Senior year, off and on to suit each other's needs. That is, until shit hit the fan." He added with a laugh. Sure, the circumstances that left their arrangement in shambles were mortifying at the time, but seemed quite humorous.

"It started off as any of our secret rendezvous, under the bleachers like we were part of the cast of Friday Night Lights or some shit. Anyway, we were making out and it was starting to get heated to the point that I was wondering if we move to one of our usual, more secluded spots but she just wasn't having it. She pulled me down, tumbling to the ground, before she started to move to kissing down my neck as she furiously tried to unbutton my shirt." He said, almost dreamily. She had always been a enjoyable companion.

Matthew, on the other hand still looked flushed but was now taking notes at a blazing fast pace, looking determined.

Gilbert continued, "So, it was pretty risqué, even for her, going so far like that out in public. The thrill of it all made it seem all the more sexy, taking a risk like that. Unfortunately, it was a risk that did not pay off." He chuckled darkly. "After being called for the umpteenth time about me skipping sixth period, my dad had driven to school in a rage, only to spot us from the parking lot—yeah, we didn't think a lot of things through that day." He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling ashamed to be admitting all this to Matthew.

"Anyway, I found myself interrupted from one of the hottest make-out sessions in my life by my father tearing into me." He said with a nervous laugh. "Of course, he was yelling in German, which terrified the girl. He was just saying normal parent stuff, you know: 'you're in so much trouble!', 'I'm going to have you arrested for truancy if you keep this up!', 'what the hell is wrong with you?!', the usual." The look on Matthew's face made it seem like none of that was very usual for him. Gilbert started to feel a bit self-conscious. He cleared his throat nervously. "Um, yeah. So, he basically dragged me away from her and she ran away in terror. I don't think I've ever seen anyone run so fast. I think the whole experience traumatized her, since we never got together again."

Several minutes seemed to pass before Matthew said anything. Gilbert began to grow worried. Many people had reacted negatively to his promiscuity over the years, but he had hoped Matthew wouldn't be one of them. After all, he had asked right? He studied Matthew's face, fretting even more when he saw what looked like concern painting the other's features. What, like the girl in his story, Matthew wouldn't want anything to do with him?

"So…" Matthew said, looking down to toss his pen back and forth between his hands nervously. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, er, were you in love with her?"

"No!" Gilbert said, more quickly than he intended. Not sure of why he reacted so fast and negatively, he backpedaled by adding, "I mean, no. We weren't really together and we didn't want to be. We both just wanted someone to have fun with, no strings attached."

"Oh." Matthew said, leaving Gilbert to wonder about if he had imagined clipped tone of disappointment in his answer before he continued, "I was kind of going for a love story with this one, passionate, yes, but I would also like there to be some romance, you know?"

"Okay, I get it." Gilbert sighed, still a bit upset by Matthew's reaction. "You're not going to find a lot of that in my experiences. Romance has always been something that alludes me." Or leads to his complete downfall.

"Do you want it to be?" Matthew inquired, looking bashful. "I mean, do you wish you had romance in your life?" He looked expectantly at Gilbert, who wondering just where this conversation was going. He sighed heavily, looking down at where the stupid romance novel had fallen moments before.

"Yeah, sure, of course." He mumbled. "I do want to feel that way about someone. I just need to find the right person." After a lifetime of failures, Gilbert had all but given up on finding an emotionally stable relationship. At the moment, he was questioning if he could have an emotionally stable anything.

"And who would that be?" Matthew asked, seeming distracted as he doodled in his journal. Then as if he had suddenly realized what he just said, he quickly corrected himself, "I, uh, mean, um, w-was that girl your type? You know, um, blonde, uh…blue eyes, p-pretty…um…girl…?" He stuttered, placing odd emphasis on the word girl.

Gilbert looked up, staring at Matthew quizzically, wondering what he was trying to get at. He shrugged, feigning a nonchalant expression as he climbed down from the bed to sit on the floor next to Matthew.

"Sure, I guess." He finally said. "But back then I had a whole bunch of types."

"A whole cheerleading squad of types?" Matthew added meekly. "Those must have been some lucky girls." Suddenly his expression transformed into shock, as if he had not meant to admit that last part. Hastily, he looked back down at his journal, face redder than it had been before. Gilbert smiled, amused by his adorable antics.

"Yep," he said smugly, "but the male bases were pretty fun too." He added with a smirk, watching for Matthew's reaction. He was rewarded by a look of surprise and a hidden hopeful smile.

"So, you like…um, guys?" Matthew all but whispered tentatively. Gilbert nodded and he continued, leaning a bit closer to Gilbert as he did so, "S-s-so that could mean that you could like—"

Unfortunately, he was cut off by a loud voice at the doorway.

"Mattie! Hour's up! Wanna come outside with me and Arthur?" Alfred practically yelled as he entered the room, Arthur stood behind him, looking a bit exasperated.

"Gilbert, you can come too." The Brit offered. "There's a whole lot of us going. Heracles told us he would take us."

"Oui!" a voice that could only be Francis' sounded from beyond the door way. "And he rarely pays that much attention to what we may be up to out there oh hon hon hon~" Arthur looked as if might explode at any minute, his expression pleading with Gilbert to go with them, if only as a buffer between him and the obnoxious Frenchman.

"Sorry, can't." Gilbert said, actually feeling kind of bad as he raised his wrist to show the ID band. "Still no outside privileges remember?" He was met with disappointed looks from the three blonds surrounding him. Francis whined from outside and seemed to try to enter the room, but Arthur's quick glare in his direction seemed to keep him away.

"Well, that's too bad," Arthur said through gritted teeth, swatting at a hand that hovered near his ass. "Another day maybe?"

"Aw, I wish you come with us! Maybe we could convince Heracles to let you come?" Alfred said excitably. Matthew started whispering in his ear, but Gilbert couldn't make out what he was saying. He hoped it wasn't an account of what the two of them had been speaking about earlier. "But Mattie, I'm the hero…" Alfred whined in response. "Surely we could do something…" he mumbled, only to be interrupted by Lovino making his entrance.

"Out of my way, asshats!" he growled, pushing through the crowd in order to stalk toward his bed. "What is this your fan club?"

"We were just seeing if Gilbert wanted to join us outside." Arthur huffed. "I don't suppose you would like to go?" Lovino just glared.

"Sorry, princess, me and fuckface are busy." He snapped, sidestepping the issue that he too had his privileges revoked before noticing the book currently on the ground next to Gilbert. "Is that Gentle Rogue? What the fuck?" At the mention of the title Matthew shot Gilbert a terrified look, cowering behind his brother. All for naught, Lovino brushed it off. "Whatever. I don't even want to know. Listen, all you idiots better get the fuck out of here. We're expecting someone."

"We?" Gilbert asked, curious and, given Lovino's less-than-sunshiny mood, a little afraid. Arthur rolled his eyes, but exited the room nonetheless, Francis and the twins in tow. Matthew waved goodbye shyly before disappearing. Gilbert was sad to see them go, and felt especially disappointed to have his conversation with Matthew cut short. What made everything worse, however, was that he was now stuck with a still pissed-off-looking Lovino.

"Yes we!" Lovino snapped. "Did I stutter? Get your ass up and look presentable for Fuck's sakes."

Sitting next to Lovino, Gilbert stared curiously at their visitor. Despite the fact that Feliciano seemed to visit Lovino often, it was unusual that he also wanted to see Gilbert, especially considering how spectacularly awful his last visit had turned out to be. Regardless, Feliciano seemed as chipper as always, smiling brightly at them as he sat in an uncomfortable looking wicker chair.

"It's nice to see you too getting along!" he chirped happily. Lovino made a show of rolling his eyes.

"Yeah sure, fratello." He huffed. "Two socially-impaired idiots sharing a room in the nuthouse: perfect sitcom material."

Wow, Lovino really was in a bad mood. Gilbert had imagined that he might be a bit softer around his younger brother but that did not seem to be the case today. He remembered that Lovino did not enjoy his brother's visits and found them somewhat degrading, but there seemed to be a bit more bite to his sass this time.

"Ve~ Lovi, don't be so grumpy." Feliciano said, looking a bit disappointed. "I was so happy when you called me the other day. You sounded so cute, worried about Gilbert like that." Feeling flattered, Gilbert glanced toward Lovino just in time to witness him turn a shade of tomato red.

"S-shut up!" he hissed. "I did not! I just wanted him to shut the fuck up, okay?"

"Yeah sure you did, Lovi." Gilbert said with a smirk. His remark was met with a severe glare. Feliciano just laughed good naturedly.

"Ah, you guys are so cute~" he said obliviously, apparently only having about as much ability to read the atmosphere as Alfred.

He smiled genuinely as he continued, "I'm just so glad you guys are friends again, and I thought maybe I should try to talk to the both of you, maybe without Ludwig? He's busy and…um, kind of still afraid to be around you, fratello…" he trailed off quietly.

Gilbert smirked playfully at Lovino, but before he could get a word in otherwise, Lovino gave him a meaningful look before grumbling, "You know the only reason Feli isn't terrified of you is his utter and complete lack of sense of self-preservation."

Gilbert shrugged. "That's fair," he admitted.

Feli laughed again. "And that's one of the reasons why me and Ludi are perfect for each other!" he said gleefully as Lovino leaned closer to Gilbert.

"By that, he means I can't scare 'Ludi' away because you're just as awful." He said snidely, before lamenting, "My days as a cock-block are over. Fuck-a-doodle-do." Gilbert couldn't help but snicker at that one.

"So," Feli interrupted as if he was about to make a big announcement, oblivious expression still plastered on his face. Gilbert felt himself freeze. What the hell could the two of them be possibly doing now? What, were they adopting kids? Oh dear lord, please not that! Did they expect Lovino to come live with them too? What could be worse? Gilbert tried to keep his cool but another eye-roll from Lovino made it clear he was failing miserably.

"I'm moving in with Ludwig tomorrow!" Feliciano finished happily. Gilbert let out a sigh of relief. He already knew that, thank god. Lovi sputtered for a second next to him, and Gilbert briefly wondered if he would lose it again. However, he seemed to hold it together enough to compose himself and the redness in his cheeks subsided as he began to breathe deeply.

"That's…awesome, Feliciano." Gilbert supplied lamely, trying to avoid the ensuing awkward silence. Lovino didn't quite look happy, but he seemed to be trying is best to put on a more pleasant air.

Forcing a smile he grunted, "Yeah." For Feliciano, there apparently couldn't have been a more pleasing reaction.

"Yay! Ve~ Thanks Fratello!" he exclaimed, clapping happily. "Oh, and Gilbert too." He added. "What I really wanted to talk about, though, is I am…well, Ludi and I are thinking of remodeling the kitchen. Would that be okay with you, Gilbert?"

"Um, yeah, sure." Gilbert said quickly, caught off guard. Because really, what was he suppose to say? On his right, Lovino was staring at him with a peculiar expression while his brother had started to look a little worried. "What?" he asked, kind of irritated. "I'm fine with it. Why wouldn't I be?"

Looking uncomfortable, Feliciano responded hesitantly. "It's um, just…that's what you usually say right before you, um…" Oh right. That thing that he does, lying when he wasn't happy with a situation and blowing up about it later. That's why Feli looked as if he was afraid a bomb might go off at any minute.

"That's what you say usually right before the…um, yelling?" Feliciano finished quietly. "Look, Ludi told me there are parts of house that you are touchy about, and I want to respect your wishes. So, please, be honest Gilbert. I don't want to do anything that you don't want me to. I know it could be shocking to come home to something so new, we could wait until you move back in to start the construction and…"

By now, Lovino was just about glaring at him, daring him to treat his brother with slightest bit of meanness. Gilbert sighed, knowing full well why his brother must have cautioned Feli about the remodeling. After all, he still refused to even set foot in their father's bedroom and after what took place in the kitchen…finding him in there…like that. Well, after that Gilbert had felt nothing but hate for that room. Not that Ludwig had any idea of this, all he knew was it was in that room where their father was lying when Gilbert came home that day. He closed his eyes, shaking the upsetting memory out of his head. Looking up to see the intense gazes of both brothers, he shrugged.

"I think it's a good idea, Feli." He finally said. "I never really liked it much anyway. Go ahead and do it as soon as you feel like."

"Really?!" Feli exclaimed happily. "Oh thank you! Thank you, Gilbert!" Jumping from his seat, he enveloped Gilbert in an excited embrace. "Yay~ It's going to be beautiful! What colors do you like? I was thinking stainless steel and—" He chattered on and on, as Lovino made faces of disgust next to him.

Finally, Feliciano ceased his joyous babbling and released a thoroughly stunned Gilbert. "Ve~ We should celebrate! It's a nice day, let's go outside~" As he was met with Lovino's guilty expression, his smile faded. "Oh, Fratello! Not again!" he complained.

"Save it." Lovino snapped. "Five minutes ago you were happy I called you to about Gilbert's stupid ass brother." Letting the brother comment slide, Gilbert sat quietly, wishing he was anywhere but here. He had experienced enough lectures to know when one was coming. If only he could be spared the barrage of disappointed looks and exasperated statements.

"You weren't allowed to do that?" Feliciano gasped.

"Well, no, probably not, but nobody specifically forbade me from doing so." Lovino huffed.

"That's why you were speaking Italian! Fratello, does Nonno know?" Feliciano said, sounding suddenly serious as an uncharacteristically angry look crossed his features.

"Of course he knows. Who do you think took my privileges away?" Lovino growled. "So, I've already heard it from that end. I don't need you harping on me too."

Feliciano sighed and for a brief moment, looked like he might cry. However, to both Gilbert and Lovino's relief, dropped the subject. "Okay, Fratello, okay…"

After the less than pleasant ending to his strange visit with the Vargas brothers, Gilbert was happy to avoid any more family related conflicts. After visiting for a little while longer, Feliciano had decided to say goodbye, promising to give Ludwig a hug for Gilbert despite his protests of the gesture being totally unnecessary. Lovino had then disappeared somewhere, probably to find Antonio and bitch to him. Finding that everyone was still outside, Gilbert had decided to retire to his room and was heavily considering taking a nap before joining the others in the common room for a My Little Pony marathon. However, he stopped short when he saw who was waiting for him at his door.

"Um, hello, Opa." He said quietly as he approached, preparing for another awkward conversation. He would have thought he would perhaps see his grandfather more often around hospital grounds, but it appeared that he was too busy with other things to make many appearances. Or he was just avoiding Gilbert.

"Good afternoon." Opa said stoically. "How are you feeling?"

"Slightly less shitty than usual." Gilbert said without thinking, choking on air once he realized what he had just said. Despite the vulgarity of his statement, his grandfather looked nonplussed.

"That is good to hear, I suppose." He said. "I heard you were not doing so well earlier last week."

"Oh yeah?" Gilbert said, part curious and part irritated. "I was doing pretty fucking awful, actually. If you heard, why didn't you come and see me?"

"You never asked for me." His grandfather answered simply. "I was afraid it would make matters worse, as it did at the funeral." Gilbert looked away at that comment, recalling a slew of unpleasant memories. He hadn't wanted to speak with anyone then, least of all his estranged grandfather. Although, that didn't mean he regretted what he had said that day.

"Regardless, I am glad to see that you are feeling better." Opa added. "I also heard you were speaking with your brother's partner earlier today? Is that true? Julius' grandson?"

"Maybe you would know, if you came to dinner once in a while." Gilbert grumbled bitterly, frustrated that he had to be here of all places in order to garner his grandfather's attention.

"I was under the impression that I was not invited." Opa said quietly.

Upon hearing this, Gilbert swallowed guiltily. Really, though, it wasn't as if he invited anyone, let alone his grandfather over for dinner.

"Talk to West about it." He reluctantly offered. "You know, maybe call him sometime? Maybe when I come home we could have dinner together. I promise not to ruin it." His grandfather only looked confused at the last statement. "Right. Sorry, long story." He explained lamely, not really wanting to go into further detail.

"Ja, I might do that." Opa said slowly, as if he might have wanted to saying something else. Despite this, he turned on his heel and quickly retreated. "Auf Wiedersehen." He said softly before walking away. Gilbert rolled his eyes as the man's back as he left, frustrated as he always was when trying to deal with his Opa. Though their relationship had never been close, he didn't like the reminder that his behavior at the funeral had driven the wedge between them even farther. Honestly, after all that happened, he wasn't even sure if he wanted a relationship with his grandfather. After all, he was the one who discontinued communication with Vater, and with him gone, Gilbert wasn't sure how things could ever be close between Opa and his grandsons.

Caught up in his frustration, he wandered aimlessly down the halls, his intentions of napping now lost due to the swirling thoughts in his head. His reverie was interrupted, however, by the sound of sobs emitting from further down the hall. He stopped abruptly as the tearful noise grew closer and closer to him.

Suddenly, Elizabeta appeared, her face red from crying as she rushed from the direction of the therapists' offices. Immediately, Gilbert began to turn the other way, determined not to be alone with her, especially since she was so upset.

"W-wait," she called, "Could you just um, stay with me for a moment?" Gilbert was about to respond with a firm no, but was caught off guard by her next statement.

"Please? I don't want to be alone right now."

Sighing, Gilbert nodded in agreement, suspicious of her intentions. Elizabeta sniffed, fresh tears rolling down her face. "Thanks."

She whispered shakily. Stepping backward until her back hit a nearby wall, she slid down it until she was crouched in a sitting position. Gilbert followed, but did not emulate her movement. He preferred to stay standing, where he would be safe from any of her shenanigans. Still crying, Elizabeta rubbed her nose on the sleeve of her pink sweater as she attempted to calm herself. Surprised, Gilbert noticed how presentable she looked at the moment. Tears aside, she was wearing a sensible black dress over a white ruffled blouse complete with pantyhose and dress flats. The whole ensemble looked a little too put together for a patient in a psychiatric hospital. Confused, Gilbert offered what little comfort he could.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, before mentally kicking himself at the stupidity of his question.

"N-n-no…" Elizabeta sobbed, bringing her knees to her chest. "I'm not. I'll never be okay." Well, that was a feeling Gilbert was familiar with. Against his better judgment, he found himself sitting down next to her. Cautiously, he reached out to rub her shoulder. She jumped at his touch, but eventually relaxed as she cradled her head in her arms. For several minutes, they remained there, Elizabeta sobbing as Gilbert tried to comfort her. Finally, she began to sniffle and eventually raised her head. Staring straight forward, she still took a couple minutes to glance at him from the corner of her eye.

Concerned, Gilbert tried to think of something he could do without ending up in pain. "Do you need me to get someone?" he asked, before wincing at what the reply might be.

"Dr. Timo, maybe?" he added, hoping Elizabeta wouldn't try to use him once again to garner Roderich's attention. Suddenly, he wondered if this entire exchange was an attempt to use him as a pawn in her nigh constant schemes.

"No!" Elizabeta said sharply. "No doctors. Especially not Roderich." Gilbert did a double take, surprised at her response.

Her eyes brimmed once more with tears as she clarified, "I can't bear the thought of him seeing me like this, not after—" she sobbed, cutting herself off.

"After?" Gilbert asked quietly, not wanting to push her too far. God knows he wouldn't want someone pressuring him when he was too upset for words.

"I just don't want to see his stupid fucking face, alright?!" Elizabeta snapped, rage apparent even through her sorrow. Stepping backwards, Gilbert made a move to get up, but Elizabeta caught his sleeve.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she whispered, her voice wavering through the tears. "I've had a really bad day. Can you just…stay here. We don't have to talk."

Gilbert nodded solemnly and he sat back down, his back to the wall, mirroring the women sitting next to him. Elizabeta stared ahead of her, eyes not focusing on anything in particular as tears still slowly fell down her cheeks. He couldn't help but study her sorrowful form. He had seen her upset before, but this seemed different. She seemed eerily defeated. In the back of his mind, he wondered what had happened to cause this reaction in her, but he knew better than to ask.

After several moments of silence, Elizabeta sighed, her breath shuddering as she hugged her knees closer to her body.

"I met with my case worker today." She finally said. "They don't think I'm ready to receive visiting rights." She began to cry anew. "I haven't had contact with my son in months…why?" she said in a broken voice, curling into herself even more.

She said nothing more, and neither did he. Together, they sat in the hall until dinnertime, comforted by the silence that encompassed them.

"Hey are these seats taken?" Gilbert asked Arthur as he approached, Alfred and Matthew following close behind.

"No, they're gone." Arthur said, sounding a bit upset.

"Oh, yeah. With Kiku. Right, I forgot, sorry." Gilbert apologized. After his stint of self-inflicted solitary mealtimes, he was still getting the hang of sitting with his friends again.

"…yes." Arthur answered, awkwardly breaking eye contact. "…that. I don't know why you keep forgetting, Gilbert."

With a sigh, he began shuffling the food around on his plate absently as if attempting to avoid further conversation. His facial expression crumpled into one of irritation as Francis plopped into the seat next to him.

"Hello everyone!" Francis said, way to cheerfully to be tolerable. Quickly he turned to Lovino, who had the profound misfortune of sitting on the side opposite to Arthur.

"Would you like to hear about my fantastic outing?" Francis asked, oblivious to the fact that Lovino was clearly not in the mood for conversation. It appeared that his foul mood from earlier had only worsened over time. Gilbert didn't blame him, having witnessed the painfully pitiful look Feliciano had given Lovino upon hearing of his transgressions. Not to mention the devastating lip quiver. If he had been the recipient of such guilt-ridden maneuvers he wouldn't want to talk to anyone either. He didn't even think Feliciano had it in him, but the kid sure knew how to make someone feel terrible about their life choices with just a look. Right now, Lovino looked about ready to kill someone, namely, Francis.

Unfortunately unaware, said Frenchman prattled on, "We got to go to the greenhouse today and I got to water the seedlings and…" Lovino responded by setting his head face first on the table, pushing his tray away. "Then I asked Heracles which ones were which but he didn't know. I think they probably will grow into beautiful roses because those are by far the best flower and…"

"Shut it, Frog." Arthur hissed.

"Oh! You wound me!" Francis whined. "I was just trying to help! Lovi, why are you always in such a bad mood?"

A more important question might be why Francis perpetually wasn't. In a place like this, everyone seemed to be in a bad mood more often than not. But then there was Francis, and Francis seemed to be just a bit too much on this particular evening.

"Maybe he doesn't want to hear about the nice time you had because he lost his outside privileges! Ever think of that, Frog?!" Arthur snapped. "Maybe nobody wants to hear about how great everything is in your delusional world because the real world is nothing but shite!"

"Ooh, like you can lecture me about being delusional." Francis shot back with a sniff. "Tell that to your 'friends'." Arthur glared at him, rage coloring his features.

"Don't. Talk. About. Them." He said through gritted teeth. "You don't get to talk about them. Not after…" Suddenly, his expression changed from one of anger to remorse. "You know what? Never mind. Just don't talk to me."

He scooted away from Francis as far as he could, but was thwarted by the appearance of the twins. Alfred eagerly sat next to him, smiling so wide it looked as if it might break his face. Arthur, somewhat placated, offered a small smile back and the two exchanged a few quiet words.

Undeterred, Francis continued to try and make conversation with his original target. "So, as I was saying, Lovi is…"

Lovin responded by abruptly standing up and slamming his chair into the table. Snatching up his tray, he furiously stomped toward the door and began aggressively tossing the contents of his tray in the garbage. Antonio had not-so-subtly made his way over and appeared to be attempting to persuade Lovino to calm down. It didn't appear to be working.

Suddenly, Gilbert was startled out of his observance of Lovino by a small voice on his right.

"So, I heard you came in the cafeteria with Elizabeta." Matthew whispered playfully, taking the opportunity of his brother's inattention to chat with Gilbert, who simply shrugged in affirmation. "I hope that doesn't mean you're cheating on me." He added, before realizing, wide-eyed, what exactly he had said. Gilbert couldn't help but smile as he watched his friend turn a brilliant shade of red for the umpteenth time that way.

"And just what does that mean?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Nothing! Nothing…" Matthew squeaked. "I just meant, um, we like to talk…and maybe you like to talk to her, a-and that's okay! Really! It's not like you only talk to me or anything or I want you to only um, do that with me—oh god…" he rambled.

"Oh, you don't have to be jealous, babe." Gilbert said teasingly. Impossibly, Matthew looked even more embarrassed, enough that Alfred had noticed.

"Mattie? Are you okay? Are you sick?" he asked nervously. Gilbert could have sworn he shot him a glare, as if he knew that Gilbert was the cause of his brother's discomfort, but he could have just imagined it. Matthew began to whisper in Alfred's ear, reassuring him. Meanwhile, Gilbert couldn't help but sneak a glance at Elizabeta, who was sitting with her roommate at an otherwise empty table. Still looking pretty upset, she didn't seem very interested in her dinner or her conversation.

"She just needed a friend." He said quietly, almost to himself.

"What?" Matthew asked, apparently having finally convinced Alfred of his wellbeing. Gilbert started, unaware he was being listened to.

"I um, said…she was having a difficult time and I tried to help her out." He clarified, feeling oddly worried that Matthew would think he was cheating on him. Their relationship—no, he couldn't call it that, whatever that was—their conversations were special, and he didn't want Matthew to think otherwise. So, just in case, he added, "Like you helped me that one time."

Thankfully, Matthew smiled. He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but was soon pulled back into his brother's conversation, leaving Gilbert to finish his meal in silence.

No matter how Gilbert tried, he couldn't get his experience with Elizabeta out of his head. He had no idea she of all people had a child. As terrifying of a concept that was, he couldn't help but feel for her after seeing her so distraught. It must have been so incredibly painful for her to lose visitation rights; to not even be able to see him. Even after all that Elizabeta had done, Gilbert wasn't sure she deserved to be hurt in that way. He couldn't imagine how it felt to be a parent, but he imagined there were few things as devastating as losing a child. As he wandered toward the nurses' station, Gilbert pondered what his grandfather must had felt after his dad passed away. He swallowed guiltily as he remembered the day of the funeral.

"What are you even doing here?" he recalled screaming, hot tears running down his cheeks as he stood in the foyer of the cathedral. "Don't pretend to care now! You never have!" Full of grief and his own guilty conscious, his self-hate came pouring out at a single target: his grandfather. Remembering the multitude of shocked faces, mouths aghast at his rage-filled display, he sighed dramatically, hoping he could erase the unpleasant memory. "Just leave us the fuck alone!" West had to drag him away after that, his heavy hands holding him firmly in his place in the front pews. Gilbert wasn't even sure if his grandfather had stayed after his rant, the rest of the events preceding were thankfully lost in a blur of overwhelming grief.

Setting his jaw in an act of determination, he intended to ask one of the nurses if Opa was still around, in hopes that he could maybe rectify his actions. The thought of Elizabeta crumpled on the floor in sorrow made him feel even more guilt over what he had said that day. He wondered if his Opa was hurting as much as he was, or, even more. However, he found himself jarred from these thoughts once he was in earshot of the station. In front of him stood Arthur, curled over the receiver of the communal phone.

"That's right, a week. Two at maximum, that's what the doctor said," he said somewhat sullenly, before hurriedly cutting off whoever was on the other side of the line, "No, no, no! You don't have to come across the pond, I'll be fine, really. I've got the house, and I'm doing better, really…" His tone was somewhat unconvincing of his words. "I'll call you when I have more information alright? Please don't fly all the way out here," he reiterated firmly, "Right. Say hello to Mum. Goodbye."

Confused, Gilbert couldn't process exactly what he had heard. Could Arthur be leaving the hospital? Of course, something like this was bound to happen eventually, and Arthur seemed to have been there for quite awhile before Gilbert's admission, but he had always seemed so…

His musings were cut off by the sudden realization that Arthur had finished his phone call and was now intently staring at him from across the room. Oh shit. Thankfully, he was saved from the upcoming lecture by the entrance of possibly the person most likely to instantly garner Arthur's negative attention. Lukas had appeared from behind Arthur and had begun to speak to him in a low tone. Gilbert couldn't discern what the Norwegian man was saying because the guy had an awful habit of mumbling every word he uttered. Arthur, surprisingly, didn't seem to be agitated by his presence and appeared to be nodding along with whatever Lukas was telling him. Then, to Gilbert's complete and utter disbelief, Lukas placed his hand awkwardly on Arthur's shoulder, as if attempting to provide comfort. Unlike every other time Gilbert had seen the two of them together, there was no yelling, no mystical pissing contests, and no animosity at all. Perplexed, he continued to watch the bizarre exchange.

"Aw, aren't they adorable?" a loud booming voice cooed beside him. Startled Gilbert jumped back, only to find himself face-to-face with Mikkel, who to his credit, looked a little frightened at Gilbert's reaction. "Ah! Sorry!" he said hurriedly, putting his hands up in a placating motion before morphing into a double-gun symbol and adding, "…Guy I punched! Hi there! Hah…I'm not going to do anything like that, you don't have to worry."

"I wasn't…um, you just startled me that's all," Gilbert said quickly, and trying to save face, attempted to change the subject, "Isn't that your…husband?" he said tentatively, before trying again, "Fiancé…? Boy…friend?" This earned an over exaggerated laugh from Mikkel.

"Yeah, we're married. Not everyone gets to keep their jewelry here, you know," he answered teasingly. Gilbert bristled at the jibe, not sure of Mikkel's intent. Mikkel just chuckled again. "Price you gotta pay when you can't stop yourself from punching random strangers, sorry about that by the way."

"It's cool man," Gilbert said with a shrug.

"Not really, but thanks for the sentiment," Mikkel said, almost with sadness in his tone. "But that's not going to happen anymore because guess who else is in the 'meds are finally kicking in club'? This guy!" he exclaimed cheerfully, pointing both thumbs at himself.

"Well, um, congrats," Gilbert said with a small smile, before realization hit, "…Wait? Who else?"

"Arthur of course, Lukas noticed right away!" Mikkel answered cheerfully, leaning closer to as he did so. "Look at them! Two socially awkward fairy princes saying goodbye…"

"Goodbye?!" Gilbert almost yelped, cutting the other man off.

"Well of course. Everyone gets discharged eventually, man," Mikkel said, confused by Gilbert's distressed reaction. "I know it's a bummer to say goodbye to one of your good friends. Here I thought I would always wait for Lukas…but he says working towards regaining custody of his kid brother is more important than that." Gilbert stared at him for a second or two, in awe of the coincidence.

"Our lives are….really screwed up," he finally muttered.

"You got that right!" Mikkel agreed a little too loudly with an accompanied slap on the back for Gilbert. However, before Gilbert could react, a voice interrupted their conversation, its angry tone cutting across the room.

"Mikkel! Don't do stuff like that. The staff are going to think you're assaulting that sad fop again," Lukas said as he and Arthur approached them. "I'm all finished here. Let's go, preferably quickly."

"Ja, min elskede," Mikkel murmured, leaning down toward Lukas lovingly only to be pushed away by a hand on his face.

"Don't try sweet talking me in Danish, potato mouth," Lukas grumbled, before adding in a whisper, "…not here…" With that, the two of them departed down the hallway, presumably in the direction of their room. Left alone with Arthur, Gilbert felt a sense of awkwardness wash over him as he pondered the upcoming serious conversation.

"So, I presume you have figured out my current situation?" Arthur asked quietly, looking down as if ashamed.

"Shouldn't I be giving you congratulations?" Gilbert asked, swallowing the bittersweet taste left by the thought of one of his friends leaving. Despite all the troubles he had with interpersonal relationships, Gilbert really did consider many of the others as his friends. Maybe it was just easier for him to interact with people who had their own problems. Maybe it felt nice to finally not weird one in the group.

"All I ask if you refrain from telling Alfred," Arthur said with a sigh. "Though I loathe to admit it, I have become quite attached to him and I know that this will hurt him. He's just so fragile and…" he paused, closing his eyes for a moment. "I just need to find the right moment to have a conversation with him about post-hospitalization…for both of us."

"Both—?" Gilbert mused suddenly struck by fear. "Are the twins leaving too?" he asked nervously, trying to hide the fact that the mere thought made panic rise in his chest.

"Bloody hell no!" Arthur scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "But they will, eventually, and they can't go back to that…wench. My brothers and I were renting a house before they went back to England to help my mum with our half siblings. Little shites aren't even hers…" he shook his head angrily. "Never mind. Let's just say I'm not the only nut in my family…and we're in need of some subletters." Gilbert nodded in understanding. "Can I just tell him on my own time?"

"Yeah, sure…" Gilbert mumbled, still in shock by the recent turn of events.

Thanks everyone for reading. I appreciate everyone who read and commented from the bottom of my heart. It's been so much fun :)