Ludwig woke up.

The room was faintly lit with early morning sun smothered by curtains. He was confused. His room would usually be dark until the evening, when the sun was on the same side of the sky as his room was on the house. He hadn't slept the entire day, had he? His eyes opened slowly, and no, this wasn't his room. This was... was Gilbert's room. He sat up, his back aching with the stretch. He had fallen asleep in... Gilbert's room? Why hadn't he been woken. Why hadn't he been tossed out when his brother came home and found him there. Gilbert wouldn't let Ludwig keep from his own room, would he? He looked around.

The room was empty. Gilbert's books were still stacked messily on the desk. Everything was the same as it had been when Ludwig walked in the previous night. Had Gilbert even been home?

Ludwig hurriedly left the room, running from the heavy feeling that was trying to settle in his chest.

He found his father sitting hunched over at the kitchen table, a layer of messy papers obscuring the tables. His head was resting in one hand, the other fidgeted with a pen. He looked lost to the world. Ludwig cleared his throat,

"Good morning Father."

"Good morning Ludwig" his father replied. His head left his hand, his back straightened. Ludwig could almost hear the cracking of his bones.

"Do you know where G- Maria is?" It felt sour on his tongue now, the name Maria, but he couldn't make himself use Gilbert, not in front of his father. It was ridiculous to think he was afraid of using a name in front of his father, but he was. He was afraid of alienating himself from his father like Gilbert had. He was a coward.

"You're sister is gone." His father's tone was flat, uncaring. His words stopped all of the thoughts racing around Ludwig's mind dead in their tracks. Because what did that mean? Gone? Gone how? Had something bad happened to Gilbert while he had been asleep? No, It couldn't be. His father wouldn't be so callous, he would care if something serious had happened to his child. Right? Was his father really so cold?

Ludwig stuttered, "What?" His heart was lodged in his throat, and his shoulders tense. He was waiting for the worst. "What does that mean?"

"It means that she is gone. She emptied her college fund last night and left." He breathed out a heavy sigh, posture slumping. His father stared at him, calculating. Like he was trying to read Ludwig's mind. Trying to figure why he suddenly seemed to care so much when he hadn't used to.

"Where did she go?"

His father's brow quirked up, a clear question. When Ludwig said nothing he let his face fall back into a neutral expression and began to gather his papers. "Strangely, Ludwig, she didn't tell me where she was running away too."

"But, we have to bring her back. You can't just let her leave" Ludwig argued.

"She is eighteen. If she wants to leave that is her prerogative. I believe it will be better off this way anyway." He didn't bother to look up from his papers.

"But-"

"Enough Ludwig" His father stood, grabbing his now neat stack of papers from the table, "what happened has happened and I do not want to hear any further argument on this subject. Are we clear?" Ludwig dropped his gaze nodding mutely. He stared silently at the ground until his father had left. Then he raced up the stairs. He all but slammed open the door to Gilbert's room. He made less than five steps into the room before he dove for he bed. He dug desperately among bedding for aha! His phone. HIs fingers were clumsy and shaking as he tried to punch in Gilbert's number. He hit the call button and jammed the phone up to his ear hardly daring to even breathe, as if his determination in holding air alone could make his brother pick up the phone. It rang once, twice, and then went to voicemail.

"Gilbert? Gilbert please pick up. Father- father said you've left? I... Gilbert please, I-" The tone cut him off, freezing the words in his throat to jagged chunks of ice, choking him. Ludwig fumbled with his phone. He hung up and dialed again. Straight to voicemail. The only message he left was a strangled sob.

Gilbert stepped off of the bus, backpack over his shoulder. This place was greener than home and already it was refreshing. He breathed deep, feeling some of his nerves leave him with each pleasant passing second. He picked a direction and started walking. Away from the bus station. Away from the temptation to return to what was, at least familiar, if not home. He knew nothing of this place, but he was glad to be there, in the far distant city, away from all of the problems of his past. He didn't know where he was going. That was fine. He'd figure it out later. The most important part was that no one here knew him. It was a fresh start.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he dug it out. Ludwig's name flashed across the screen and Gilbert sneered. He rejected the call, and then turned off his phone. He was angry at himself for even bringing it. Clinging on to small comforts, he guessed. And he still wanted to talk to Matt. But he definitely did not want to talk to his father or his brother. So he'd just leave it off until he got another, swipe Matt's number from this one and then chuck it. Easy.

In the mean time, he'd find a library. Somewhere with internet so he could start looking for a place to stay. He had enough money for at least a few months and he could get a job no problem. It would be smooth sailing from here on out. Nothing could go wrong. He was more than sure of it. After all, how could something that made him so happy turn out badly?

This is super short (and filler) and I'm super sorry.