The story continues in the sequel "Submission," now posted! Here's a sample of the first chapter:

...

Chapter 1

"I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you!"

Ludwig looked up from his multiplication worksheet at the sound of his brother's voice ringing through the house. Footsteps rushed up the stairs, past his bedroom door, and down the hall to Gilbert's room. A door slammed shut, making the family pictures that hung in the hallway rattle in their frames.

Ludwig waited in trepidation, but did not hear his father's footsteps following. Silently, he slipped off his bed and peeked into the hallway. It was empty.

Downstairs, he could hear the sliding door that opened onto the back porch open and shut. His father had gone outside.

Cautiously, Ludwig padded down the hall and knocked softly on his brother's door.

"Gilbert? …Gilbert, can I come in?"

There was a pause, then a wet "I just wanna be alone."

Ludwig hung his head. He wished he could make his brother happy. So often, he seemed sullen or angry. The only time he seemed happy was when he was doing something that would only get him into more trouble with Dad. Ludwig tried to warn him, but Gilbert just brushed him off or got annoyed, complaining that Ludwig was being "un-awesome" and that big kids didn't have to listen to stupid parents. That always shut Ludwig up. He didn't want Gilbert to think he was un-awesome.

Ludwig had turned away and started trudging back to his room when he heard Gilbert's voice through the door again.

"Wait, Lud—" The door opened. Gilbert stood there, eyes red-rimmed and downcast. "You—you don't have to go. You can come in, if ya want," he offered.

He stood back and let Ludwig into the room, then closed the door again.

Ludwig perched on the foot of Gilbert's bed. Gilbert flopped down beside him, sprawled out on his back. Ludwig decided to lay down too, looking over at his brother.

"What were you arguing about?"

Gilbert sniffled. "Nothin'. Just somethin' stupid."

"…It didn't sound like nothing."

"Tch." Gilbert turned to him and ruffled his hair. "Stop being a smarty-pants."

Ludwig pouted. "I'm not."

Gilbert sighed. "It's just…" He sniffed again. "It's not fair! None of my friends' parents are even half as strict as him! He doesn't let me do anything! It's like, he thinks I'm just gonna get into trouble if he gives me the tiniest bit of freedom."

Ludwig didn't say that Gilbert seemed to get into plenty of trouble even without more freedom. "Well… maybe you can negotiate something. Maybe you could talk and see what you could do that would prove you're responsible enough to have more freedom."

Gilbert narrowed his eyes at him and snorted. "You'll be a great diplomat when you grow up. Or a lawyer or something. Anyway, it's easy for you to say. He listens to you. He just doesn't listen to me."

Ludwig bit his lip. He wanted to say it wasn't true, but even at 11 years old he was well aware of the fact that he could get what he wanted from their father much more easily than Gilbert could. Gilbert knew it too; it was why he often asked the boy to make requests and suggestions for him, though it didn't work in every situation. Ludwig could ask if he and Gilbert could play soccer, or for the family to go to Gilbert's favorite restaurant, but he couldn't ask for them to go to PG-13 movies, and he certainly couldn't put M rated video games that Gilbert wanted on his Christmas list.

Gilbert's face screwed up again. "He won't let me go to this party tomorrow just 'cause the guy who's hosting's parents won't be there. But like, half the grade is going! This is why no one thinks I'm cool! This is why I don't have more friends…" He broke off, lips quivering as he struggled to hold back tears. He sniffed and set his jaw determinedly.

"…I think you're cool," said Ludwig quietly.

Gilbert snorted, but the corner of his mouth twitched up a bit. "Thanks, Lud. Tch, I don't need more friends anyway. I like being alone." He glared at the ceiling.

"But… you're not alone," Ludwig said, confused.

Gilbert looked at him. "What?"

"I'm with you."

Gilbert smiled a little and rolled his eyes. "I meant in general, stupid."

Ludwig frowned. "I'm not stupid."

Gilbert snorted. "I know, don't take everything so literal."

"Literally."

"Huh?"

"It would be, 'don't take everything so literally' because it's an adverb, not an adjective."

Gilbert stuck his tongue out at his younger brother. "Whatever. I'm too awesome for grammar."

Ludwig looked at him skeptically. "But grammar rules apply to everyone. Even presidents have to use correct grammar."

"Our current president messes up grammar all the time. So there." Gilbert frowned. "But, actually he isn't awesome, so… never mind. But Lud, no one's gonna think you're cool if you're always such a grammar Nazi."

"Daddy said not to use that word."

"I don't give a fuck what Dad says."

"Gilbert!" Ludwig squeaked, scandalized.

Gilbert laughed at him. "It's so easy to get you going."

Ludwig pouted. "Stop teasing me."

"Loosen up."

Ludwig crossed his arms. "Why should I?"

"Because, otherwise…" Gilbert's eyes gleamed mischievously. "I'll get you with the slobber finger!"

Ludwig squealed as Gilbert licked his finger and darted it out to poke his brother's cheek. Ludwig grabbed his wrist to stop him, but Gilbert's fingers were long and he still managed to twist his wrist so he could touch Ludwig's bare forearm with the wet finger.

"Eeww!" Ludwig rubbed his arm off frantically on Gilbert's shirt.

Gilbert laughed and licked his finger again, causing Ludwig to practically scream in terror. They wrestled around on the bed, Gilbert's laughter punctuated by Ludwig's string of "stop it stop it no please Gilbert no nonono!"

Finally Gilbert relented. "Kesesese, fine fine, I promise not to."

Ludwig stuck his tongue out. "Meanie."

Gilbert smirked and lay back down beside his brother. He fell silent, looking at the ceiling. Ludwig waited, wondering what he was thinking.

Gilbert looked over at him. "I wish I was more like you."

Ludwig blinked in surprise. "Why?"

Gilbert looked down, suddenly sheepish. He shrugged. "Just… Dad loves you more than me," he said quietly.

Ludwig's eyes widened. He wasn't sure how to respond to that. "I… I don't think… no he doesn't." He knew that's what he was supposed to say. He knew parents were supposed to love their children the same.

Gilbert was silent. He looked like he was holding an egg in his mouth and trying not to crush it. But then he swallowed it, and Ludwig could almost follow the lump going down his throat with his eyes.

"Things would be different… if Mutti was here," Gilbert whispered.

Ludwig held his breath. Gilbert hardly ever talked about their mother. She was always Mutti, because she hadn't come to America with them, when their father started insisting on speaking English at home.

"He, he blames me, that she left." Gilbert was staring into space, recalling a distant childhood in a distant country of which Ludwig had no memory.

Ludwig waited, but Gilbert didn't say anything more. "…Why do you think she left?"

Gilbert shrugged morosely. "I dunno. I was only four, and you know Dad won't talk about it. Maybe it was me, for all I know."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would she leave because of you?"

Gilbert didn't respond immediately, just breathed in and out a few times. "I don't know. Maybe she didn't want to have to pay for medical stuff, like my eye surgery. Dad says… well, one time when I asked him, all he said was that she wasn't ready for kids. I mean, they had to look after me, especially early on. My vision was even worse before the surgery, and all the stuff about skin care, on top of normal kid stuff. Or maybe… maybe she just didn't want a kid who looked like me. You know, moms want a kid that other people will be jealous of, right? And who would be jealous of me?"

Ludwig stared at his brother, unsure what he should say. Gilbert was just lying there, looking at the ceiling. Something was nagging at Ludwig's mind though. "Gilbert… do you wish you looked like me?" he asked hesitantly.

Gilbert stiffened. He turned his gaze on his brother, and there was something in his eyes that Ludwig couldn't quite recognize, but it made him squirm and wonder if he shouldn't have asked. But then Gilbert looked away. He shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder what I would look like if I wasn't albino. I think I would look like you. But whatever. I don't care."

Ludwig was confused. Without thinking, he blurted out, "I wish I looked like you."

"No you don't," Gilbert spat, a little more viciously than he intended.

Ludwig's lip quivered. He thought that would make Gilbert happy to hear. And it was true, too—sometimes, when Ludwig looked in the mirror, he wondered why he and Gilbert were so different, why Gilbert was so unique, while he was so boring. In fact, everything about Gilbert seemed exciting, while everything about him was plain, looks, personality and all. He would wish then, that he too had hair that shone like white gold in the sun and eyes like pools of fire.

"Wh-why are you angry at me?"

Gilbert sighed. "I'm not. Just… you don't want to look like me, trust me."

Ludwig pursed his lips. He disagreed, but he kept that to himself.

"…What did Mutti look like?" Ludwig had asked before, but he always liked hearing Gilbert describe her. Their father didn't keep any pictures of her in the house, at least not that Ludwig had ever seen.

"I've told you, Lud."

"Tell me again."

Gilbert sighed again. "Okay. I don't remember her very well, but I remember her being tall, though maybe that's just because I was little. She had blond hair, but not as blond as Dad's. Kind of ash-blond, maybe, or strawberry—I'm not sure. I think she was pretty solid—not fat, or super skinny. I remember her being soft, though. That's what I remember best, when she would hold me and I'd cuddle up to her. She was warm and soft."

It struck Ludwig that he had no recollection of anyone ever holding him like that. His father wasn't very physically affectionate, and Ludwig had always been more reticent about hugging than Gilbert, though he had no idea why. Maybe this had something to do with it.

"What was she like?" he whispered.

Gilbert thought for a moment. "I can't say for sure. I mean, I remember being in her arms, and I remember her standing at the stove cooking something that smelled good, and this snatch of her driving the car... but I also have these vague memories of her being angry, with me or Dad… I don't know. I do remember her scolding me for sneaking extra dessert once. Oh yeah—and there was this song she would sing at bed time to get me to go to sleep… I don't remember how it went." He blinked a few times. "I guess I loved her."

"You miss her?"

"I didn't get to know her well enough to miss her. But, sometimes I wish she was here, or that we had a mom. Not just Dad."

"Gilbert… do you hate Dad?"

Gilbert was silent for a long time. He chewed his lip. "No," he said quietly, "I don't really hate him. I just wished he loved me more."

...

A/N: I hope you'll be inclined to check out the rest at the following link: (FF won't let me post full links, so just put "www." then "fanfiction." then "net" then "/" and then "s/8760717/1/")

Thanks for reading!