Note: These were originally posted in the FF . net story "Flying Pieces of Paper." They have been moved to this new story in an organizational attempt.

GerIta oneshots.

Roderich opened the door to Elizabeta's office, sighing. She was busy at her desk, going through the paperwork that her station required. Roderich wondered how in the world she managed to get anything done; even when he helped stem the flow of doctors into her office, she was still constantly in meetings.

Elizabeta raised her eyes for a moment and smiled, gesturing toward the seat in front of her. "Come, don't be a stranger."

Roderich sat down, crossing his legs. "I have to go soon, but I thought you might like an update on how everything was going: the whole Oncology ward is in a riot. Alfred even came up from his den, can you believe that?"

Elizabeta looked up again, eyes worried underneath the exhaustion. "Oh, no," she shut the manila folder she was holding, sliding it to the side. "That nice boy?"

Roderich took off his glasses and played with them. He was having headaches more often now. He might actually have to get a real prescription for his eyes. "Vargas, yes. Went last night. Ludwig… Beilschmidt, he's not doing so well."

Elizabeta steepled her fingers, those intelligent eyes concerned. She needed to go home and sleep. They all did. Roderich should have put his glasses back on and straightened in the chair—he was Chief of Staff, after all—but he remained as he was.

Elizabeta gave him a grim smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

That woke Roderich up. He stood, fixing his glasses on his nose. He shook his head, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "No. I suspect Beilschmidt will, however. I shall send him up to you when he's done with his rounds. Everyone should be too busy mourning to bother you today, so you should be free."

…

"Are you the Mr. Roderich I've heard so much about?"

Roderich looked down at the man in the bed, blinking at him from behind his glasses. "I'm afraid I haven't heard anything much about you."

The man laughed, hand held protectively over his stomach. "I'm Feliciano! I came in here because my brother said I looked like crap, and now they think I have cancer. My doctor is the tall, blond one. I don't remember his last name, but his first name is Ludwig."

"Dr. Beilschmidt. An excellent doctor." Roderich picked up Feliciano's chart, looking it over. Suspect pancreatic cancer. Roderich frowned. "Any history of cancer in your family?"

For the first time Roderich had entered the room, Feliciano's smile dimmed. "My Grandpa, I think. He had stomachaches and his skin turned—jaundice, I think? He didn't want to come in, though. Is that what I have?"

Roderich replaced the chart. "It's possible. Who is—"

"Who's ready to go in a giant magnet?!"

Roderich took a deep breath, turning to glare at the nurse in the doorway. Gilbert grinned at Roderich as he approached Feliciano's bed, winking at the sick man. He parked the wheelchair next to the bed.

"I told you he was a peach!" Gilbert laughed, nudging Roderich. "I'm sure the two of you had a deep, riveting, not-at-all snooty conversation. Roderich, don't question the patient! We already got a patient history."

Roderich was torn between being exasperated and furious. Why poor Feliciano should be subject to Gilbert, of all people…

Gilbert turned to Feliciano bowing and gesturing toward the wheelchair. "Your chariot awaits, Mr. Vargas."

Feliciano laughed, swinging his legs out of the bed. He glanced at the IV stand, uncertain but determined. "I'm pretty sure I can walk there! How far away is it? I'm sure if I just use the stand and sort of…" Feliciano stood, grabbing on to the IV stand.

Roderich was about to order Feliciano to sit back down, when Gilbert interrupted. "Hey, I know that the pain meds are making you feel a little better, but your body's still hurtin', yeah?"

Feliciano sighed good-naturedly, sitting down in the wheelchair. "Everyone here is worse than my brother! You should have seen him when he came to visit me—I took a week off from work, you see."

Gilbert began to wheel Feliciano out of the room. Roderich dawdled for a moment before following, figuring he could at least check on the CT scan technicians while he was there. He caught back up to the blond and the patient, ignoring Gilbert's questioning look.

"… Well, I guess you could say my brother owns the restaurant, but he only really cooks. He and Antonio cook in the back and I take all the orders. There's this other girl who helps out when I'm not there, too, her name is Emma," Feliciano tapped his fingers on his stomach, humming. "I hope she doesn't mind filling in."

Roderich regretted his decision; Feliciano could talk a mile a minute. Roderich actually learned a lot about Feliciano—unwillingly, of course. He cooked, but like painting and drawing just as much. His brother was going to marry the other cook, but he refused to wear the ring except when his fiancé wasn't looking. Feliciano had a cat that he hoped Lovino, his brother, would remember to feed.

"And Antonio certainly won't because he can't remember to feed his turtles half the time! And he loves those turtles. Lovino gets so angry—is this where we're going?"

Gilbert backed into the CT room, nodding, though Feliciano couldn't see him. "Ja. This is the place! It's not as bad as it looks, really."

Roderich went into the control room, gesturing for one of the technicians to go help Feliciano. A plump girl stood and went to go help assist Gilbert in hooking Feliciano up. Ludwig entered while all this was going on, and Roderich nodded towards him in greeting.

Ludwig watched through the window as Feliciano was laid down on the bed and the dye was injected. Feliciano nodded to whatever the technician was saying. She flicked the switch and Feliciano slid into the center of the round machine.

Surprisingly, Ludwig leaned down and hit the intercom button. "Feliciano, is everything alright?"

Roderich glanced down at Feliciano's vital signs and saw what Ludwig had seen. Feliciano's heart rate was up far above what it should be. He whirled on the technician, about to accuse her of killing one of the hospital's patients.

"Ah, well," Feliciano let out a nervous, half-hearted laugh. "I'm a little nervous." His voice sounded very small through the tinny intercom system. "I just—I've never been in one of these, and I don't really know what you're doing and…"

Ludwig sat down in one of the spare chairs, still facing the intercom system. "This is a CAT scan machine. It's a big x-ray machine. The magnets on the inside send out waves of x-rays that the machine collects on a piece of film. The thing we injected you with—the dye, helps show us your pancreas."

Feliciano's face on the small TV screen didn't look very reassured. "Oh, I see. Then what?"

Ludwig looked confused. "Well… We go over your results and we see—"

"No, I mean after the test. What I'm I going to do? Oh!" Feliciano's face suddenly brightened. "Can I get some paper so I can draw? It's super boring in that hospital room! All I can do is look out the window or watch the TV, but all that's on there is Spanish soap operas, and only Antonio can understand those."

Roderich rolled his eyes, catching Ludwig's eye and jerking his head toward the CAT scan. Ludwig nodded and turned back to the intercom.

"Sure, we'll get some paper. I'll bring it to your room after the scan, okay? But you have to remain as still as possible, and remain calm. The machine is loud, but that's just the magnets. Can you do that, Feliciano?" Ludwig asked, leaning in close to the intercom.

"Ah, sure, Ludwig!"

Roderich was miffed. Usually, Ludwig was the kind of no-nonsense doctor that explained the procedure to a patient as quickly as possible. Ludwig was busy—Elizabeta was considering moving him up to the head of Oncology when Yao retired—so usually, he was as brief and informative as he could be without being cold.

Roderich pushed the thought out of his mind as he exited the technician room. He had other branches of the hospital to check up on.

…

"Oh! Mr. Roderich!"

Roderich stopped walking, turning around quickly to look through the doorway he had just passed. He was supposed to be checking on Gilbert for Elizabeta—her boyfriend usually got up to no good trying to cheer up patients—but a detour wouldn't hurt. Roderich entered the room, blinking.

Feliciano grinned, waving as Roderich neared. Ludwig stood on the other side of the bed, chair nearby suggesting he had been sitting only a moment before. He nodded to Roderich, hands behind his back like he was in the military.

"So, I've been drawing all the doctors and nurses and people who've come to visit me to pass the time!" Feliciano explained, pointing to the paper scattered on the desk he was supposed to eat with. "I was running out of people—there are only a couple of shifts, and I can only draw the tree out the window so many times, so I drew you!"

Roderich raised an eyebrow at Ludwig before taking the piece of paper. Roderich was shocked at how good it actually was. It was a picture of him from the three-fourth angle, without his glasses. It was made entirely in blue pen, no doubt nicked from one of the nurses or doctors. It was a striking resemblance coming from someone Roderich had only met once. Roderich looked up at Feliciano.

"Did you have a picture to go by?"

Feliciano smiled guiltily. "Well, I couldn't remember exactly what you looked like, so I might have asked Gilbert and Ludwig for some help! And usually someone'll ask for something other than their face—Gilbert asked for a baby chicken! Ludwig asked for his dog." Feliciano shot a sneaky smile at Ludwig before shifting some papers out of the way to show Roderich. "But I drew him anyways!"

Roderich picked up a few of the pictures, looking through them. A lot were of Feliciano's view outside his window, but there were staff members sprinkled throughout. There was a nurse who Roderich presumed to be on the night shift changing an IV bag. Another one of a man who looked similar to Feliciano, except angrier, with a sleeping man leaning against him. One of Ludwig, standing at the end of Feliciano's bed, looking at a chart.

"Ludwig says I'm going to use up all the paper if I keep drawing so much! I asked my brother to get one of my sketchpads, but he has to keep the restaurant open, so he can't come in much and he always forgets." Feliciano laughed, gathering his paper's together in a neat pile.

Roderich observed Feliciano as he chatted to Ludwig and Roderich. He had lost a lot of weight in only a week. One of his hands was still hovering near his stomach. His jaundice was painfully noticeable.

Roderich returned the pictures to Feliciano, nodding. "I'll definitely come to review your work in the future, Mr. Vargas. I have a friend whose little sister enjoys drawings of cute things. Would you perhaps…?"

Feliciano grinned. "Of course! Like, bunnies and kit—Alright! Sure, I'm sure I can find some time to draw her something. I was running out of ideas, anyways."

Roderich nodded and turned to Ludwig. "May I speak with you?"

Ludwig nodded, and the two of them left Feliciano and wandered further into oncology. They walked for a bit, both subconsciously trying to catch sight of Gilbert. Finally, Roderich shot a look at Ludwig.

"How was the biopsy?"

Ludwig ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it back. "It looks like it's heading into Stage III."

Roderich stopped, crossing his arms. "Ludwig—"

Ludwig slowed, but didn't turn to face Roderich. "It's hasn't reach his artery, yet. Jones has us, that is, Vargas, booked for tomorrow to cut away as much as we can. Then we're putting him on chemo."

"Radiation?"

Roderich watched Ludwig's head shake from behind. "No, he's nervous about the radiation. He'd rather take drugs."

Roderich took a deep breath and marched in front of Ludwig, eyes two cold shards of steel. "Dr. Beilschmidt, I understand that this case has become personal. However, I ask that you take a step back and look at what's best for the patient. If you feel your… Affections are clouding your judgment, I hope you would do the sensible thing and assign another doctor to Vargas' case. For your sake and, more importantly, his."

Roderich turned away, quest to find Gilbert abandoned.

…

Feliciano didn't have any new pictures for Roderich the next few times he visited. He was curled in bed, arms wrapped around his stomach. He had lost more weight, and was running a fever. Every time Roderich visited, Ludwig had been there at some point or another, checking on the chemo or Feliciano's temperature.

Roderich had helped Elizabeta finish some paperwork, and decided to check on Feliciano before heading home for the evening. He wandered through the hospital, comforted by the fluorescence; sometimes, it seemed too dark when he made the short journey to his car after work.

Roderich paused outside Feliciano's door, frowning when he saw he wasn't the first one to have the idea to visit Feliciano. Ludwig was sitting in a chair, holding Feliciano's hand and talking to him. Roderich wondered if his fever was still up.

"I wish I could draw, still. You should see how serious everyone looks when they come to visit me. If I showed you your faces, maybe some of you could smile!" Feliciano sighed. Roderich wasn't sure if Feliciano was trying to be upbeat, but he did succeed in sounding very tired.

Ludwig's hand reached up to brush back some of Feliciano's hair. "You're very sick, Feliciano. Everyone's just worried."

Feliciano laughed, softly. "Everyone's always worried. Even before I came here. I guess it's your job, though, huh? You have to be worried. I would be worried if my doctor didn't worry about me."

Ludwig let out a faint sound of agreement. He caressed Feliciano's cheek.

Feliciano hummed, hand sliding up to entwine with Ludwig's. He kissed Ludwig's fingers. "A month wasn't a very long time, was it?"

"No," Ludwig agreed, pressing his forehead against Feliciano's, "No, it wasn't."

Roderich withdrew, walking away from the Oncology wing. He had intruded, he realized belatedly.

…

"Roderich."

Roderich stopped, hand on the doorknob. He looked over his shoulder at Elizabeta. She sighed and stood up, stretching. She walked over, standing in front of him and leaning on the chair. Roderich still remembered when she used to wear a doctor's coat, though she had long since been appointed Chief of Medicine.

"I'm sorry," she said, finally.

Roderich turned around, back pressed against the door. "Why would you ever say something so foolish? It wasn't your fault. He caught an infection. He died. That's what most cancer patients tend to do, isn't it?" Roderich registered that it was his mouth the words were coming out of, but he felt oddly detached from the motion.

Elizabeta looked at him. Roderich felt his face flush when he realized she pitied him. He turned around sharply, yanking open the door. Before he could take a step out the door, she spoke.

"I'm sorry Ludwig fell in love. I'm sorry you feel responsible."

Roderich took a deep breath and walked out the door.