Letting himself be drawn into a pillow fight with Gilbert had been a bad idea. Not only had he lost spectacularly, causing Gilbert - who was currently on top of him, white hair a wild mess and pale cheeks flushed with excitement - to wonder aloud whether an excess of neutrality had turned him into a weakling. Two of the pillows had ruptured, and now the entire room was covered in downy white feathers. And of course, Ludwig had to pick that very moment to call.

"You are not thinking of answering the phone, are you?" Gilbert asked.

"Gilbert, get off me." Roderich tried to shake him off, but despite his slender built, Gilbert was heavier than expected.

"Um... nope. I don't think so." He was grinning like a maniac, obviously enjoying himself tremendously.

"Gilbert, don't be childish. It could be important."

"Are you saying I'm not important?" Gilbert pouted.

"Did I say that?"

"It was implied," Gilbert said. If he chose, he could be just as infuriatingly pedantic as his younger brother.

To hell with you, Roderich thought, but nevertheless reached up and drew Gilbert down for a kiss, short but assertive. "Does that answer your question, and may I please answer the phone now?" Roderich asked, slightly breathless.

Gilbert handed him the phone.

"Ludwig," Roderich asked, "how may I help you?" Of course it had to be Ludwig. Damn. And here I was hoping to keep him blissfully oblivious a little longer. There goes that idea.

"I'm looking for Gilbert," Ludwig told him. "Is he still with you?"

Roderich glanced at Gilbert, who grinned back at him. 'Your brother' he mouthed and Gilbert's grin widened. Roderich winced, mentally preparing himself for the worst. Gilbert was bound to leap at an opportunity to embarrass both his brother and Roderich at once. "...yes," he therefore replied with some trepidation, sending a look towards Gilbert that clearly stated: One word, and it WILL be your last. I promise.

Ludwig seemed surprised. "Oh. Okay." Pause, then: "What is he doing right now?"

Roderich was fairly sure that the truth was not an adequate reply to this question. It was too ludicrous to be believable. Knowing Ludwig, he probably expected him to have killed Gilbert by now, or at the very least have him chained up and gagged. Not that he hadn't been tempted...

"Tell him I'm having fun," Gilbert suggested very quietly.

Roderich shook his head. Let's make Ludwig squirm a little, he decided suddenly. Turnabout is fair play and all that.

"You don't want to know," he replied dryly. It was the truth, too. Ludwig preferred to ignore whatever went against his view of the world or was too troubling to bother with. However, Roderich was perfectly aware of how suggestive it sounded in this context.

Gilbert's eyes widened comically and he quickly stifled his laughter behind a hand.

There was a long pause at the other end of the line, until Ludwig finally responded, sounding somewhat resigned. "Well, once he's done with whatever it is, tell him to call me."

"I will." Roderich hung up on him and not a second later, Gilbert burst into laughter.

"You," he said, poking a finger at Roderich's chest, "are perfectly evil." He let himself drop to one side and came to lie next to Roderich on the bed.

Roderich felt his own lips twitch as he tried to suppress a grin. "I was perfectly polite and truthful."

"And you totally made my brother think that he had interrupted us having kinky sex. Poor Ludwig. He must be imagining all sorts of things now. He has such a vivid imagination."

"You don't look sorry for him at all," Roderich informed him.

"It's too funny to feel sorry for him," Gilbert replied before adding matter-of-factly: " The only thing I'm sorry for is that it's not true."

Roderich felt blood rush to his face... and other places he dared not to think about right now. His little charade had turned against him. Breathe. Don't lose your head. Things are bad enough as it is.

Breathe. In and out. Just that.

And don't let him know how hard it is to resist, or you will lose control. But that cannot be allowed to happen. You can't... not without telling him. It would be so wrong...he would hate you. Would have to hate you...

... I'm rambling. There are voices inside my head.

Breathe. Just breathe.

Gilbert pushed himself up on one elbow, looking down at him. The intensity of his gaze was frightening. "What is it?"

Roderich closed his eyes, unable to face that gaze any longer. "Nothing."

"Yeah, right. And I'm the man in the Moon. Damn, I knew you were a terrible prude, Roddy, but you're not actually going to die from embarrassment, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"So...?"

Roderich turned his head to the side. "I told you, it's nothing."

Gilbert sat up abruptly enough to make the bed springs groan in protest. "Alright," he said. "I'm off."

Roderich raised his head. "Okay...?" He was used to Gilbert's sudden mood swings, but there was something in his voice... something cold and detached. "Where are you going?"

Gilbert shrugged. "I don't know yet. Somewhere. I haven't seen Tonio in a while. Francis, too." He stood up and straightened his shirt. Roderich watched him warily.

"Are you going to say goodbye?" he asked quietly.

Gilbert paused mid-movement, then bent down, leaving the quickest of kisses on Roderich's cheek. "Bye, Roddy. Call me once you're ready to stop lying to me."

He strode out of the room, leaving Roderich speechless.

"Mattie, I think I've made a mistake," Roderich told Matthew when the Canadian came by for his next meeting with Ivan, who was late, delayed by affairs of state.

"Oh really?" Matthew asked innocently, placing a tray of artfully decorated cupcakes on the coffee table. "How come?"

"Gilbert." Roderich sighed.

"... is a terrible nuisance. What did he do now?"

"Isn't it funny how that's the first question everyone asks when it comes to him?" Roderich asked dryly, but then he shook his head. "It's not that." I wish it were. With Gilbert's folly I can deal. With my own... well...

Mathew stopped arranging the cupcakes and looked up. Roderich met his gaze and realized that it was easy to talk to him. He was willing to listen and offer advice, but he did not have an own agenda - or if he did, it was comfortably transparent. In a way, Matthew reminded him of Feliciano. They were both gentle creatures living in their bubbles of sunlight and smiles and the smell of delicious food.

"We argued. Nothing new there, Gilbert and I spend more time arguing than not, and it has always been that way and will always be the same, no matter what happens." Well, unless his rashness and my cowardice manage to get us killed, that is.

"But...?" Matthew prodded.

"He accused me of lying to him."

"Are you?" Matthew asked with the expression of someone who already knows the answer of the question he has just asked.

Roderich sighed. "Yes. Well, we all do on occasion. Lie, I mean. Do you trust Ivan?"

Matthew smiled. "It's a credit to you, Roderich, that you can ask me that with a straight face. Everyone else wouldn't even bother."

Roderich shrugged. "Ivan and I are in the same boat. We both want something we can't have, and we are both willing to go to extreme lengths to be with the people we care about."

Matthew nodded thoughtfully. "I guess so. To answer your question, though - I do trust Ivan... selectively. It depends on the situation. I trust him never to cheat on me, for example. I do not trust him not to lie to me, leave me in the dark or go behind my back if it suits his purpose. I trust him to have what he believes are my best interests at heart, but I do not trust him alone in a room with my brother. The same goes for Alfred, by the way."

"I see." Once again he noted that Matthew was surprisingly rational and realistic about his relationship with Ivan. But then, maybe that was what made the relationship possible in the first place.

He looked up to find Matthew still observing him calmly, but intently. "Ivan has a theory," he said, "would you like to hear it?"

Not particularly, no. Roderich thought, but nodded nevertheless.

"He thinks you are responsible for Gilbert's continued health and existence. Gilbert should have died after he lost his land and his people, but he didn't. Ivan believes you're keeping him alive. He argues his point quite convincingly, too."

Roderich drew a sharp breath. Ivan. Damn you! I should have been more careful. He's smarter than I gave him credit for.

"But Gilbert doesn't know, does he? Not yet, anyway."

Not yet? Not ever... I think.

He silently shook his head.

"Then I understand your problem," Matthew said, his voice quiet and kind. "You are worried about his reaction, because you love him, but you also know him very well."

Roderich stared down at the table, at the cupcakes, at his own pale hands. "I don't know what to do," he admitted.

"This is why you asked for our help in the first place, right?" Matthew asked shrewdly.

"Something like that."

Matthew put a hand on his arm. The expression in his eyes was sincere, and so was his smile. "Well, you have it. Since the truth is out now, it should be easier to help you. By the way - Ludwig knows, too."

"WHAT?" Roderich cried, eyes wide. "But how...?"

"Ivan told him. He is Gilbert's brother and the most likely to be affected if - God forbid - something should happen to him because of what you did. It seemed only fair to inform him. Besides, I'm hoping that we'll be able to use him as backup. Gilbert will most likely be upset when he learns that you have hidden a secret of such magnitude from him, even if it was done out of love. And since we both know how volatile his temper is, it is prudent to assume that he'll not be ready to kiss and make up right away. Ivan says that since you're connected you can hurt each other by spending too much time too far away from the other. So if Gilbert decides that he needs some space after you've told him, Ludwig could step in and support him for a bit, make it easier for the both of you."

The thought of Gilbert running off, not wanting to see him, maybe not wanting to see him ever again, physically hurt. Even now, Roderich felt uncomfortable in the knowledge that Gilbert was somewhere in southern France or Spain - he had learnt to measure the distance between them in the intensity of the ache inside his chest.

"There's one problem with that theory," he told Matthew, "if Gilbert shuts me out completely, or even if he only runs too far, I suffer the consequences. He may not, not if Ludwig is covering him, but I will. I'll fall unconscious, then slip into a coma, and eventually, if it goes on too long, I suppose I'll die. And there's no telling what'll happen to my people then. Or to Gilbert."

Matthew visibly paled. "Maple. Why did you do this, Roderich?" he whispered.

Roderich sent him a long look. "Why are you still with Ivan, even though everyone, including Ivan himself, has tried to make you see that it'll cause you grave harm sooner or later?"

"Point taken. But still... Roderich, this is bad."

"I agree," Roderich said, "but I can't change it now, not anymore. Do you remember Washington? As you may have guessed, my claim that I had come to see you and Alfred after your fight was just pretense. I was, however, telling the truth when I told you and Ivan that Gilbert was the reason for my trip to Washington."

"You wanted to help us in return for our help." Matthew nodded.

"Believe it or not, that was a spur of the moment decision. It only occurred to me when I arrived in Washington to find half the world gathered there. No, I actually came to Washington, because Gilbert was going there. The distance was too great, I couldn't risk it. So I followed him. And it's a good thing I did... you all saw me faint in the conference room."

Matthew frowned. "But you said you came on the same flight."

Roderich shook his head. "That, my dear Matthew, was a lie. I knew Ivan had some experience with the matter and I had to throw him off trail... I did not want him to know. Actually, I still don't want him to know. It's quite disturbing, having to put my faith in Ivan. My trust in him is even more selective than yours."

"You have no choice," Matthew pointed out.

"I suppose not." Roderich took a sip of tea. "You know what surprises me? That Ludwig isn't here already. I believe the fiasco of the Anschluss left him permanently traumatized and it's a wonder he hasn't rushed to Vienna yet to berate me for my folly and recklessness and for risking both my own life and Gilbert's."

"The Anschluss? That was when the Nazis forced you into a merger with Ludwig, right? I never heard much about it, you both kept it pretty quiet."

"With good reason," Roderich replied. "It was a disaster. Don't get me wrong, Ludwig is very dear to me, but in the way a cousin or a sibling is. Anything else... no." It was a disgusting idea. But then, what can you expect of people who murder millions of people in cold blood? "Anyway," he added, "I would have expected Ludwig to feel extremely apprehensive about the idea that I created a bond between Gilbert and myself."

"Maybe he knows something you still overlook," Matthew suggested.

"Such as?"

"Gilbert loves you."

Roderich had been reaching for his teacup but froze in mid-movement. How can he say something like that in such a calm voice, as if he were talking about the weather? he wondered.

Once again, Matthew reached out and put a hand on his arm. "Talk to him. Gilbert, I mean. Even though you should probably also have a talk with Ludwig and explain your motives to him. But that can wait. Talk to Gilbert first."