A/N: ...hum... errr... Hi? I'm not dead? So I disappeared for a while *cough*3years*cough*. Sorry doesn't even begin to express how bad I feel for letting you guys down that bad. For those actually wondering why I'm back, I actually graduated college! Woot! :D I will also be starting a new job soon so I do not yet know if I will have much time to update. But fear not! I intend to finish this story!
I'm sorry for the poor quality of the writing... It's been a while since I wrote anything in something else than French, but I really wanted to update, even though it hasn't been beta'd or anything. Please forgive any silly mistakes you might find.
Well, I've annoyed you lot enough with this author note, enjoy!
Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own it. ;)
"Talking"
Remember, Please!
Chapter 7: Friends
" ... And that is the Bad Touch Trio was formed! And also why Francis was banned from that particular bar! "
Upon hearing the Spaniard's voice, Roderich paused, frowned, and hurried up the stairs, his forgotten suitcase sitting in the entrance of the Germans' house.
" That doesn't make any sense. How can three grown men fit into... Such a small place?" a small, familiar voice resonated in the small staircase.
Roderich accelerated his pace. Of all the stories that idiot could have chosen!
"Ah! But you see, mi amigo, with the right angle..."
The aristocrat slammed the door open to come face to face with a startled Prussia, clutching a... stuffed bunny? The Spaniard was sitting in a chair next to the albino's bed, arms still in the air, as he was probably waving them with enthusiasm while recalling his distasteful tale. Roderich froze as his eyes met confused, crimson ones. He slowly made his way to the still frozen man in the bed, afraid that if he looked away for even a moment, the Prussian would vanish. He lifted a trembling hand, ignoring the protesting noises coming from Spain and slowly brushed his thumb on a pale cheek. The Austrian would forever deny the sob that came out of his throat.
"You're alive."
The soft whispered words seemed to break the strange mood that was keeping the people in the room frozen, and Gilbert recoiled from the hand still on his cheek. Gathering his stuffed bunny closer to his chest he opened his mouth, hesitated and then, finally...
"Just who the hell are you?"
The illusion broke and Roderich suddenly crashed back to reality. Right. The amnesia. Ludwig did warn him, but to hear that idiot say such a thing... And, if he was not kidding himself, the absence of recognition in those red eyes hurt more than he expected. Recovering quickly, the aristocrat straightened himself.
"My name is Roderich Edelstein, I am the country of Austria. Your brother told me about your... memory problem, and ..."
At the mention of Ludwig, distrust immediately clouded Gilbert's eyes.
"Oh, so he sent you. Trying to make me distrust Russia-sama! Get out! You must be evil too!"
Roderich stepped back in surprise while Antonio sighed sadly. Prussia stared angrily at the Austrian.
"Go AWAY!"
"I don't understand, Gilbert, what..."
Spain intervened, grabbed the man by his elbow and dragged him out of the room. Smiling, he reassured the panicking man on the bed.
"Don't worry, Gilbo, I'll get him out. Eat your food, I'll be right back! Gilbird can keep you company while I... talk to Roderich." Said Roderich protested and tried to get out of the Spaniard's hold on his arm, to no avail.
"What...! Antonio! Let go of me right this instant!"
Spain dragged him down the stairs and in the kitchen, where he finally released his hold on Austria. Both men stared angrily at each other.
"What is your problem?"
"Gilbert is not himself, Austria, and I am trying to make him feel better, instead of upsetting him. You are an upsetting factor, I simply had to get you out of his sight." Spain was strangely cold as he said the words, words that only served as to anger Roderich more.
"Upsetting him?! What nonsense is this? I came here to help him, and help that fool I will! I have no idea what Russia did to him, but you can rest assured I will not leave until I can reverse the damage."
Antonio scoffed.
"You obviously can only upset him at this point, just stay out of the way, amigo. You can't even be in a room without putting your foot in your mouth and upsetting him. Let his real friends help him."
It was Roderich's turn to scoff as he glared at Spain.
"Of course, you are such a good example of a real friend, what with you letting him get dragged away and dissolved without so much as a peep."
"That...! I don't recall you saying anything against it either! Besides, I'm here to make amends and win back Gilbo's friendship!" The 'and maybe more' was left unsaid, but understanding passed through Roderich's eyes.
"And you think I am not here for the same reason? I deserve to help Prussia as much as you, if not more."
"But, unfortunately for you, only one of us here can stay in the same room as him without upsetting him."
Roderich fumed and grabbed the Spaniard by the collar of his shirt.
"And why is that? Why is it that he tolerates you?"
Spain calmly broke out of Austria's grip and made his way towards the stairs. Just before climbing the first step, he turned around and looked, eyes cold and calculating, completly out of character, right into Roderich's eyes. The words that left his mouth were said with the intent to hurt and managed to bring the Austrian man to his knees, crushed by the weight of their implications.
"His heart must remember, deep down, that he actually cares for me."
"How is he?"
"Not well. The mere mention of your name, your nation's name, mind you, is enough to send him into a fit. And distrust whoever makes the mistake of mentioning you." Resentment.
"I'm coming back, maybe if I bring some pictures, or show him my iron cross-"
"Ludwig..."
"- there must be a way! I need to be near him, it will help, if only-"
"Ludwig!"
"..."
"I don't think it would be healthy for him to see you right now, he's still weak and... Well. It would be best if you waited a few days..?"
"... I see. I'll... Call me if there's any changes."
"Ludwig, I'm sorry, he-"
Click.
In an hotel room near his own house, Ludwig wept.
And nursing a bloody nose, listening to the taped conversation, Russia smiled.
...
And there we go.
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Until next time,
Cerma-chan