Gakuen Hetalia - High School AU

Iain stared at the brunette infront of him, emerald eyes deep with concern.  "He did didnae he?" he repeated, knowing all too well Gilbert wouldn't do it even if he could be as violent as him on occasion. There was only one person in that hall who'd stoop so low. Ivan.

"I tripped and slammed my face into the corner of a locker. Ivan came to see if I was alright, which stopped the fight."

The red-head gave her this look like "you got to be kidding me", his eyes searching hers as if he was looking for any hint that she was lying. "Only ye could do somethin' like tha'. " He joked, wanting to laugh but halting himself suddenly. What was he saying? He barely even knew her. Even so it was incredibly hard to believe her story but he doubted she'd ever lie to him about something so important. After all, she didn't seem like the lying type.

"Ye shou-" He had begun until he saw a figure from the corner of his eye, advancing towards him with deadly speed. He turned to it, realizing it was his older brother and noticing he seemed less then thrilled with him. "Look broth, ge' off yer high hors-" He was cut off by his brother suddenly grabbing him and throwing him into the lockers, something you'd think he'd be used to since it seemed like everyone wanted to do that to him today.

He let out a groan, the pain hitting him much harder the second time with his back being all sore from that damned Russian. He glared at his brother, enraged by his action. Aidan never did this, especially not to him. "What's gotten intae ya ye ee-"

"Ye damn idiot!"

He flinched at that, never seeing his brother this angry at him before.

"Wha' I'm willin te do is irrelevant! I's wha' yer willin te do, which is feckin get yerself killed! Do ye think I'm abou' te stand here an' watch tha' happen to my brother?!"

"Brot-" He was silenced by harsh knuckles connecting with his face, knocking the Scotsman right off his feet. Iain hissed in pain, sitting upright and resting his hand on his now pained cheek that was already incredibly sore before. Why Aidan couldn't do him a favor and hit someplace not already hurting, he didn't know.  All eyes glanced to Ivan once he busted out laughing, like what Aidan had just done was one of the funniest things he had seen all day.

"Good job, Aiden. Hey, at least it wasn't me who punched him this time, right?"

Iain got back on his feet and put a hand on his brother's shoulder, knowing all too well those words would make his blood boil. It was what Ivan said next though, that did it for him.

"-It was indeed I who punched her and bruised that pretty little face. Quite a shame, really. I was aiming for a much uglier one. Yours, to be exact. But hey, we all make mistakes."

His eyes widened at that, glancing at Alisia who seemed too ashamed to say anything and was avoiding eye contact. He glared at Ivan who just smirked at him, like he was taking pride in the fact he was under Iain's skin. "Ya ken what Ivan.............Yer no' worth the time." He finally murmured with gritted teeth, obviously wanting to tackle the husky man right then and there but refraining. "I'm no' gonna bother makin' yer life any worse, since it's already incredibly bad, aye? Bein' alone all the time, nae friends, oh and donnae ge' me started on yer life at home." His eyes seemed to gleam after saying that, like he knew he struck a nerve. He didn't exactly know what went on behind closed doors at the Russian's house but he did know the rumors.

He grabbed Aidan's wrist along with Gilbert's, pulling them back to the nurse's station and figuring Francoise and Alisia would follow his lead. "I'm done with ya. Yer nae welcome tae the nurse's station, if yer cuts and bruises hurt tae bad then figure somethin' out in the parking lot. I ken ye'll figure somethin' out, with ye being so used tae doin' things on yer own and all." And with that said he slammed the nurse's door shut and locked it. He let out a breath of hot air, still unsatisfied but it was better than ending up in the hospital. He turned to his brother as he crossed his arms and frowned.

"I hope yer happy."

Abigael was a well known student at school, friendly to almost everyone. Though what she was more widely known for was her spot as the star player on the softball team. She had been playing since junior high, and had proven to have quite the skill for it.

That particular day she had gotten into lunch late, just barely missing the scene with Gilbert and Iain, though word of the situation quickly got to her. Her only reaction was roll her eyes. Normally she would have had quite the time sitting with the rest of the softball team, but since second period she had been suffering from quite the headache. This had changed her normally cheery mood to a more volatile one.

After eating the plain cafeteria food, she decided to head down to the nurse's office so she could ask for some pain killers. Once again, she had barely missed the big fight and was only greeted by some slightly dented lockers.

When she arrived at the nurses office she was greeted by a locked door, but through the window on the door she could see two familiar gingers, and a few other students. She paused for a moment before slamming on the door with her hand.

"I fucking know ya guys are in there, now open up the damn door!" She didn't quite yell, but she definitely did raise her voice.

She watched the brothers and glared at Ivan. That bastard. She scowled and was going to say something until Iain went off. She gasped slightly as he did. Oh mon Dieu. If he wasn’t dead now, then he would be later.
She followed him as he drug both Gilbert and Aidan to the nurse’s office and slipped in with Alisia following. She walked over by Aidan and raised a brow as Iain locked the door. She winced lightly as he chewed into him and winced again as a voice was heard by the door and pinched the bridge of her nose. “More yelling” she grumbled.

She walked over to the door and pushed Iain out of the way. “Bonjour. Can I ‘elp you?” she called out

When the door opened Abigael was greeted by Francoise, asking what she needed. She shifted to a slightly happier tone, smiling at the blonde.

"I came tae ge' some painkillers."

She took a look into the room, peering past Francoise. The sight of everyone bloodied and beaten, caused questions to arise in her mind. The only question that did manage to come out was directed toward the Kirkland brothers. "Who the hell did ye piss off this time?"

She sighed and shut the door, walking back over to Aidan and Gilbert. "Ivan" she whispered and walked over to the medicine cabinet, getting painkillers and other things to fix the boys up. Because God knows they need it.

Ivan's smirk didn't fade as he watched Iain's eyes widen. There was a moment of silence before the ginger spoke, causing the Russian's brow to narrow slightly in confusion. No snappy come back, no harsh words. Just a simple sentence through gritted teeth.

Ivan thought that would be the end of it, but it was far from it. It was the next words that stunned him into silence:

""I'm no' gonna bother makin' yer life any worse, since it's already incredibly bad, aye? Bein' alone all the time, nae friends, oh and donnae ge' me started on yer life at home."

His hands balled into fists and his brow narrowed further as his lip slipped into a snarl. No one talked about Ivan's home life. No one. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he couldn't. He was stunned silent.

Although, as Iain grabbed Gilbert, he realized he had a perfect crowd for a new debut. He grinned as the ginger turned and grabbed both Aiden and Gilbert, the ladies following close behind as the Scott spoke again. Ivan smiled cheerfully and waved goodbye, before calling out, "Oh, and Gil?"

"Good luck with that broken nose, you fucking faggot."

Upon his last word, the nurse's door was slammed, and Ivan turned on his heel, whistling a familiar tune as he headed down the corridor.

Alisia felt a coil of dread and guilt tighten in her stomach. She fought back the fresh, hot tears that threatened to spill from her shaking eyes. She managed, somehow. For now. What Alisia truly felt was shocked that Ivan denied her attempt, feeble as it was, to protect him from any more harm.

She knew Ivan was just misunderstood, and handled things the wrong way more often than not. But he wasn't a bad man. She knew this. No-one was ever going to believe her though. At first, Alisia did not follow the crowd that was beckoning her. She stared back at the Russian, who seemed almost pleased that it had ended this way.

Did this mean he didn't care? Was their friendship over?

It hurt, damn it hurt. Alisia wasn't popular, special or unique in any way. But one thing she treasured was what little friends she had. She felt like she may have just lost one now, despite her best efforts.

The coil in her abdomen felt painful now, and it was harder to fight back tears. She followed after the crowd, many feet behind, trying to swallow the pain. She made it to the door just before Francoise clicked it shut.

She couldn't look at them- any of them. She felt ashamed for lying, and for being idiotic enough to lose one of the two friends she had. She isolated herself in a corner of the room, as far from everyone else as she could possibly be. She hung her head, brunette locks hiding her eyes and the tears that threatened to pour. She hugged her knees to her chest, burying her face against them, wishing now ,for once, that she could disappear.

The world seemed to stand still after he'd punched his brother. He had made it look easy and swift, but it had taken all his willpower to physically harm the brother he cared for so much. He'd forced himself to hold back the tears he wanted to let loose once his knuckles ached with the impact, and at the new bruise that swelled on the Scot's cheek.

He hoped he never had to do that again.

He felt his stilled blood boil with hot rage as the Russian spoke. How fucking dare he. If Iain's hand hadn't been placed on his shoulder, it would have been him launching to tear the man's head off instead. His fists shook though, his eyes half-lidded and darkened. No-one, dammit no-one pummeled his brother and then mocked it.

Warmth spread through him starting at his shaking fingertips though, as Iain finally stood down. His face slowly softened. He didn't fight his brother as he pulled him back to the nurse's office, God knows they all needed medical attention. Finally they entered with the aid of Francoise, but he knew it was not time for relaxation.

"I hope yer happy."

Aidan stared down at the Scot, looking almost angry. Then finally, the Irishman sighed, slipping down to one knee and winding his arms around his little brother in a tight embrace.

"Ye eejit," he spoke softly, "I'm more than happy. I'm proud." He finally smiled again. "Try no' te get yerself almost killed again, aye?"

Gilbert glared at the two, waiting for a response. The nod from Ivan was hardly satisfying, but it would have to do. And as Alisia spoke up, the albino nodded triumphantly. The fight was over....

Hopefully.

As Alisia's nimble fingers encased his wrist, he winced. He hated it whenever people touched his wrists. His raised skin beneath his shirt sleeve told a story of its own- A story he refused for anyone else to find out. When she spoke about getting them both to the infirmary, he nodded in agreement, but came to a halt as he turned to see two redheads yelling at each other down the hall. It appeared that Iain had awoken from his little nap, and that he was far from pleased with the situation.

Honestly, it was a bit comical as the Scotsman was able to drag his brother down the hallway and to the trio as he spoke in between pants to the Russian behind him. However, Iain paused upon seeing Alisia's wounded face, and for a moment he made eye contact with Gilbert. Did he honestly think the Prussian would do that to her? Apparently not as the ginger redirected his gaze to Ivan, and narrowed his brow, accusing him instead.

There was hardly a moment of hesitation in the scene as a familiar blonde busted out into the hallway and began scolding the Irish duo for their careless actions. Instead of acknowledging her, Iain seemed to take heightened interest in Alisia's obvious lie about the chain of events that had led to the end of the fight.

However, neither of these words from both the French girl or the Armenian seemed to calm down a certain Irishman, who suddenly grasped his brother's collar and slammed him into the lockers, shouting at him. When a sudden punch connected with Iain's cheek, Gilbert jumped. He'd never really seen Aiden so upset, especially at his own brother. The Prussian teen went to speak up in defense of the Irishman, but was stopped as Ivan busted out in a fit of laughter, speaking up with a renewed cruelty in his tone. The albino's arms ached to reach out no deck him in the face then and there, no questions asked, but he didn't.

Instead, he backed down, just as Iain did. He was right: Ivan wasn't worth it. He just fucking wasn't. A small smirk etched across his lips as the Scotsman brought up the Russian's home life, suppressing a laugh. And as the ginger reached out and took Gilbert's wrist, he didn't fight back. He simply followed. He felt confident, he felt like somehow, with the mutual hatred of Ivan, he'd made a few new friends. He felt happy-.

"Oh, and Gil?"

Fuck.

"Good luck with that broken nose, you fucking faggot."

Everything stopped. A heavy, suppressing feeling swirled in his gut. No- No. H couldn't have told again. Of course he had. But had agreed not to. He turned his head just as the nurse's door was shut. His mind blurred and his vision grew fuzzy. He didn't even realize he was crying until he felt the boiling tears dripping off of his chin and onto the tiled floor below him. He heard voices around them, but he couldn't decipher what they were saying. They all knew it now; Every last one of them.

So much for keeping a secret.

He whirled around on his heel, and walked to the bathroom inside of the nurses' office, slamming the door behind him.

Gilbert didn't know what happened.

On minute, he'd been looking at himself in the mirror. The next minute, the mirror was broken, glass scattered across the floor, and now?

Now he was curled in in a corner of the small room, hidden under the sink as he fumbled to pick up a shattered piece of glass. Pulling up his shirt sleeve to reveal his pattern of scars, he made his decision

((WARNING: NOT FOR SQUEAMISH OR FAINT OF HEART))

This was it, it was so simple. Just a quick flick of the wrist, and he would feel better. Right? Of course. He always did.

He shakily moved his hand to his wrist, pressing the broken glass to his skin, and swiftly  yanked it across.

The first thing that hit him was the pain. The sensation shocked him and caused a chill to tingle up his spine as the familiar ache spindled up his arm and made his breath catch. The pale, scarred skin stretched apart as it broke open, and blood quickly beaded in small circles like dew on a blade of grass across the fresh line of red. It took only seconds for the dots to turn into harsh, crimson lines streaming down his arm. He pressed the self-made blade against his arm again, a little harder this time, and yanked back a little rougher. Blood streamed from his fresh wounds and down his arm, dripping into the floor beneath him.

This action was repeated a multitude of times, each time the pain fading more and more with every stroke of the glass. The blood dripped down his arm and to his elbow, curling and dancing in various ways before falling to the floor, where it mixed with his tears. There was a moment of silence after the shard of glass clattered to the floor, stained red from his crimson blood, and a bit of panic set into his mind.

What had he done? Jesus titty fucking Christ, what had he done? He scrambled to stand, reaching out to grab a collection of paper towels and pressed them to his wrist hard, trying to get the bleeding to stop.

((OKAY IT'S SAFE NOW KIND OF))

What had he done?

The more Alisia sat there, the more she let the realization of what she'd just done sink in, the tighter her fingernails dug into her calves. How could she have been so stupid? There had to have been a better alternative to what she'd done! A different ending; not one where she may have just lost a friend.

But, then again, as she thought more, she realized she may have lost her newest friend too. Wouldn't Iain be angry at her for defending the man who'd beaten him bloody? Wouldn't he resent her for lying to him blatantly?

She really was an idiot.

She stood slowly, quietly. The brothers, their sister, and Francoise were too occupied to see her slip out, clicking the door shut softly. Her eyes flicked about the hallway, and she felt lost, not sure where she should go. She didn't have the stomach, nor resolve to go back to class and be a perfect student. No, all she wanted to do right now, was cry.

She started down a hallway, one at random, hugging herself tightly around her waist as her eyes remained plastered to the tile floor.

Perhaps she was needlessly sensitive. Perhaps she was overreacting. But was she? Why wouldn't both Iain and Ivan resent her? And Tristany had disappeared long ago. Alisia was sure, if she had known, she would be angry with her too. Perhaps the years of bullying had worn down her self-esteem just enough for her to crack so easily.

She did her best, her absolute very best, to not cry. She had no right to. Her wandering seemed endless, one monotonous click of a shoe onto tile after another.

Then, she heard glass shatter.

It caught the Armenian off-guard, frozen in her place while her head slowly craned towards the sound. Back at the nurse's office. She'd already circled back here? She clicked the door open, once again unnoticed, as if the people within hadn't realized she'd left at all. Her eyes trained to the bathroom door, the only one that was shut. She paced up to it carefully, pressing her ear to the door.

She was about to turn around, about to say it was her feeble mind playing tricks on her, until she heard sobbing. Sobbing.

Alisia wanted to, but she couldn't ignore this. Her very beliefs, her very core told her to go in there. And she wasn't about to fight it. Her hand shaking, the pulled the latch, placing one foot in first, then the other.

The very first thing she saw, was blood.

Blood was everywhere, soaking into the cracks of the white linoleum floor. A feeling of dread twisted in her stomach, and she almost vomited. Hands clenching her stomach, she took a few more brave steps in, the edges of the red pool licking the tips of her shoes.

Then she saw him. A head of white hair, tears streaming from crimson eyes as shaking hands desperately held a paper towel to his wrist. Gilbert.

"G-Gilbert!" The word flew from her mouth before she knew she was speaking, and in a scrambling motion she knelt down next to him. "O-oh my God...oh my God.." Her eyes flicked about him in a panic, laced with extreme concern. Without thinking she leapt up, nearly slipping on the blood at her feet, grasping for more paper towels and dabbing them with water under the dirty facet. She desperately tried to wipe the blood from his face, the salty tears from his eyes.

Iain let out a sigh of relief as the fight had officially come to an end, though he would've loved to give Ivan a few harsh bashes to the face. He crossed his arms and relaxed in a chair nearby, incredibly grateful that whole ordeal wasn't caught  by administration. He'd be screwed beyond screwed if it had. "Where's the nurse anyway? Doesnae she ge' paid tae do this?" He commented rather plainly, glancing around at all the different drawers and instruments that the nurse's station offered.

He turned to his brother as he caught his gaze, an eyebrow raising curiously as he wrapped his arms around him again. "I think yer startin' a bad habit broth, tha' I really donnae wish tae be a part of" He grumbled, trying to break free and successfully doing so as this time around, Aidan wasn't desperately trying to hold onto him.

"Try no' te get yerself almost killed again, aye?"

He couldn't help but chuckle at that, shrugging his shoulders. "Éy it's no' ma fault I go' involved. What was I supposed tae do after seein' ma broth on the floor? It's ye who needs tae be more careful." Iain glanced down at the floor, scratching the back of his head as those words his brother spat at him in a fit of rage came rounding back and slapping him in the face. "I'm...uhh....." He looked at one of the cabinets to the side of him, opening it and fiddling through it as if to try and stall. "I'm.........sorry." He finally managed to say, though only through exaggerated coughs. "I'll try tae walk away from fights more often then not...so ye better do the same bassa."

He then scooped two ice-packs from the drawer, throwing one towards his brother's face and the other toward his goodies. "Ya look like ye need tha' " He grinned, leaning back against his chair.

Francoise didn't notice Gilbert go into the bathroom until the door slammed. She glanced over but didn't pay any attention to it as Iain got to ice packs. She walked back over to them and handed them the pills.

"'ere. Both of you take these." she sighed and walked back to get the bandages and peroxide to clean their wounds. "I swear all you two know 'ow to do is fight" she grumbled to herself as she walked over to them and looked over Iain first.
"You both better be thankful that I know 'ow to treat wounds" she scowled and began to clean the cuts on Iain's face, not caring if it hurt or not. She cleaned it off then moved to Aidan next, who wasn't nearly as bad as the Scotsman.

"Next time you both decide to get in a fight, 'ow about you make sure it's not against a Russian." she sighed then went back to Iain, pulling on his arm roughly, sighing as he winced. "It's what you get for not staying down the first time, smart one" she grumbled and checked over the rest of his body then checked over Aidan again.

"You two should be fine; just next time be more careful. Please"

Gilbert shook as he stumbled to press the paper towels to his wrists, applying pressure in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. It was a rather feeble and pathetic attempt, but it was an attempt nonetheless.

He was so frantic to stop the heavy bleeding that he hadn't noticed Alisia coming into the room until she spoke his name. Jumping, he whirled around- wide, red, puffy, wet eyes greeting her with shock. Why was she here? What was she doing here?

As she kneeled down next to him, he drew back as she spoke her disbelief is another desperate attempt to get away. Not from her in particular, but from everything. He hadn't relapsed in so long, and no one had ever caught him before. No one had ever known his secret-either of them- and now this girl... This stranger... Knew them both? It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. Honestly, what was going on?

The panic and concern in her eyes caused him to flinch slightly. She looked so scared. Why did she care about a stranger? Someone she'd only met maybe a few hours ago? She only knew his name. So why was she so concerned?

As she leapt up to grab some more paper towels, dabbing them under the faucet, and wiping away at the blood and tears streaked across his face, he pulled away and his pale lips curled into a frown. He blinked away his tears and pulled the paper towels from his wrist, throwing them away as he inhaled shakily, "I punched the mirror and it broke. I must have slipped or something and a couple shards cut my arm. Is nothing to worry about, honestly." Gilbert spoke, "Just go away. I can take care of myself."

Alisia flinched at his words, and at his emotionless stare. It was another rejection, and honestly after today she should have been used to this. But she wasn't, and it stung. She swallowed it back down her throat, fixing him with a look of defiance.

"I won't."

She examined his face over again, making sure he had no injuries on his temple. She sighed in a small wave of relief, and prayed that the rest of it was not too serious. But with all this blood on the floor...

"Stay here," she spoke softly, quickly throwing her shoes off and pattering back into the main room as fast as she could. She was suddenly quite happy she could slip in and out unnoticed by the other students, for she was sure Gilbert did not want a large crowd swarming him. He didn't even want her near.

Maybe he was reluctant because of what Ivan had shouted. Was she the only one not shocked nor shaken by it? Then again, she was very accepting of peoples' lifestyles more often than not; a very compliant girl. Why did that choice of his choose such ridicule, but indulging in affairs and drugs and alcohol didn't?

Alisia shook her head of the needless thoughts, grasping gauze, tissues, peroxide and bandages and quickly slipping back into the bathroom.

This time, she locked the door behind her.

"Hold still," she said, as firmly as she could, kneeling down again and unrolling the bandages, opening the bottle of peroxide. She didn't care as much how he got the wounds, but that they were gushing blood and needed to be closed.

She dabbed drops of peroxide on the tissue, carefully cleaning around and dabbing the open wounds. She did know a thing or two, primarily from her brother. He had always preached that she learn how to take care of herself, for since their parents were taken so unexpectedly, there was no telling when she may be on her own one day.

The brunette was about to wrap his wrists in bandages, when something, a pattern, caught her eye. On his wrist, accompanying those newly formed jagged cuts, were small, faded pink lines, in similar patterns down his arm.

This wasn't coincidence, and this wasn't an accident.

She could feel her eyes well with tears, tears of helpless sympathy. How did this boy suffer that he felt the need to cut? She didn't ask questions, just swallowed her tears and wrapped his wrist quickly.

When she finally finished, she pulled back from him, hanging her head.

"I promise..." she nearly whispered, "I won't tell anyone."

Aidan wasn't too surprised when his brother pulled from his grasp, and merely grinned in return. He was never one for affection. Sometimes, Aidan would worry for his future wife. Now we say wife because everyone who knows Iain, knows that he only dates for sex as a bottom line.

Sometimes, Aidan really, really worried about his little brother.

He chuckled at his brother's statement, nodding. "Aye broth, I'll be careful te." He didn't tell him about the original reason Aidan had thrown himself into the fight for good reason. Because, truly, Iain didn't need another reason to want to blow Ivan's brains out.

Aidan made a mental note, that once this had calmed down, he'd need to go visit that poor boy in the hospital.

The Irishman blinked in surprise as two words, he never expected to escape his brother's lips, did in that exact moment. A warm smile spread on his lips, and he pat his shoulder affectionately. "I forgive ye broth, and I'm glad." He caught the ice packs with ease, letting out a howling laugh at his brother threw a second one for his crotch. "Aye, thanks. Ma family jewels appreciate it."

He casually discarded the second ice pack.

Forest eyes flicked to a blonde woman who, not surprisingly, began to lecture rather than comfort the injured boys. Aidan chuckled to himself. This was Francoise after all. "I'll do ma best te avoid all Russians, jus' fer ya lassie." He winked playfully, sighing, and placing the much-needed icepack against his throbbing mouth.

A warm smile spread across her lips along with a slight blush, dusting her cheeks. She faintly wondered why she was blushing just from that. She shook the thought from her mind and let out a slight giggle.

"That's all I ask for" she grinned at him before putting the other supplies away. She turned back and grinned at the two brothers. "Are you two going to come to the game tonight?" she asked, wondering who was coming but then gave it some thought. "Never mind. You both 'ad better rest up because I'm pretty sure you're both going to be sore tomorrow" she waved her hand in dismal and took her hair out of the braid then re- braiding it. It was a nervous habit she had and it wasn't uncommon for her to do so when she asked something of someone.

Her eyes flickered to the bathroom door then around the room. The brunette who was there earlier wasn't there anymore and Gilbert still wasn't out. She frowned slightly when she thought about Gilbert but shrugged it off, figuring he was okay.

"Actually, I 'ave a better question." she grinned, looking at the brothers again. "Who are you taking to 'omecoming?"

Abigael had silently walked across the room, fishing two painkillers out of the bottle. She listened in on the conversations in the room as she grabbed a disposable cup from the pile next to the sink, filling it with water. She heard the crash from the bathroom and soon saw an unfamiliar brunette enter the room, then disappear into the bathroom. Soon she ran back into the room, fetching gauze and peroxide, then enter the bathroom one more.

This had confused her some, but she didn't bother to question it, quickly popping the two painkillers into her mouth, then washing them down with water. From what she had heard, she figured out that there had been a big fight against Ivan. What she didn't know was why.

The question that Francoise directed at the brothers made an odd feeling claw around inside her. Jealousy? No, that couldn't be right. She forced a slight smile onto her face and turned to face the three.

"With those injures ye arenae going anywere."

Iain turned to Francoise as her cheeks turned a visible shade of red, almost finding it strangely interesting. He could've sworn she had a thing for Gilbert. He shrugged though, figuring him and his brothers charm were just too powerful for the poor girl. "Is tha' even a real question lass?" He asked with a snort, getting up to stand for a change. "Of course we're goin' tae the bloody game, it's the first one in the season! I would go even if ma leg was cut off."

He shrugged as he lightly touched his bruised face, not thinking much of it. "As long as we donnae ge' punched in the face durin' the game we'll be fine. There's nae any excuse no' tae go." It was then he turned to his Irish brother, eyes seeming to sparkle once Francoise popped the question about homecoming. "Oh lookie here, are ma eyes decievin' me? Ma broth is bein' asked who he's takin' tae homecomin'? Well ya better tell yer hand goodbye and do what ya need tae do." He grinned widely, patting the freckled brother on the back before he wiped a fake tear from his eyes. "Ma wee broth is growin' up so fast I cannae hardly take i'. "

He chuckled, turning to his little sister once she joined the conversation, obviously not agreeing. "Yer outta yer mind if ye think we're gonna miss the game. Yer gonna haff tae tie me tae a bed or somethin'. " He walked over to her, arms crossed. "Are ye goin'? Better be goin' with friends. Yer tae young tae be datin'. " Really she wasn't that young, but he wasn't in the mood to hunt down another guy for messing with his little sister.

"I won't."

Gilbert winced at her words- at her look of defiance. This certainly was not a side of Alisia she had seen before, or was used to. His eyes narrowed at her and his frowned increased. He wanted to scream at her, to demand that she leave him alone, but he couldn't. He didn't know why he couldn't, he just couldn't.

She examined his face again, and his scarlet eyes averted from her own shamefully. As she spoke again, Gilbert only nodded, knowing that she would not heed his wish for her to leave. She left her shoes behind before she went, and the Prussian couldn't help but wonder why as she left the room. It didn't occur to him before then just how much blood he had spilt, but it was much more than he had thought.

The albino worried as she left whether she would seek out the help of the others in the nurse's office, but as Alisia re-entered the room with an armful of supplies, he knew she hadn't. There was a click as the door was locked, and the supplies was set out on the floor as she leaned back down. Gilbert's eyes scanned over the gauze, tissues, peroxide, and bandages, knowing what she was going to do.

Secretly, he was thankful for her. It was rare for him to see someone who appeared to genuinely care about him that wasn't his brother. Even his brother would sometimes ignore him when he grew too aggravated or annoyed. But Alisia? She wasn't.

Had he perhaps made a friend?

It was a curious, intriguing thought, but it was something that he certainly accepted.

Her strict tone demanded that he hold still, and the albino did just that. Alisia dipped a tissue into the bottle of peroxide, turning it over to make sure that it was wet with the chemical before setting the bottle down. She pressed the peroxide-infused tissue to his open wounds and his hissed as a painful sensation tingled up his spinal column, causing his scars to ache.

It took a few minutes for her to clean his wounds and wipe the blood from his arms, but once they were clean he was thankful. However, she paused as his older scars were revealed and Gilbert averted his eyes again as he watched her eyes turn glassy with tears. He hated this. Regret welled in his chest and he felt utterly ashamed. So much for his lie.

Swiftly, his wounds were encased in bandages and gauze, and he felt a bit of relief that his weakness was no longer exposed. A small whisper reached his ears and he flinched slightly.

"Thank you." He spoke up softly after a pause, "I appreciate it..."

There was a moment of silence as he stood, pulling his sleeve down, "I'm leaving." He spoke, a bit more sternly, and crossed the tiled floor, unlocking the door before he exited the small room. He didn't meet anyone's gaze as he took his leave from the nurses' office, and set down the hallway at a steady pace.

By now, his nose had stopped bleeding, and the blood on his lip had been wiped clean. His face still ached a little bit, but he was learning to live with it and ignored it as he went to his locker, pulling his leather jacket from it's hook and sliding it over his arms, tugging it on before he closed his locker, turned, and exited the school.

The wind was brisk and a bit chilly as he stepped into the parking lot, crossing the pavement and weaving through parked cars to his own vehicle. Straddling the motorcycle, he clipped his helmet on before nudging the kickstand back up with his heel. Gilbert then pulled the keys from his pocket and inserted them into the ignition, started the bike and revving the engine before kicking off and setting down the road. School would be ending within a few hours or so anyway, and the albino didn't quite feel like getting questioned about his broken nose from any of his peers, or about anything for that matter, and simply drove.

It felt like hours before he stopped, and looked around to see that he had made his stop at the city hospital. Consciously, he didn't know why he had stopped there, but his mind knew completely. Knocking the kickstand back down and turning the ignition off, the Prussian tucked his keys in his pocket and unhooked his helmet, placing it in the saddlebag before stepping off of his bike and onto the pavement, his feet carrying him to the doors of the hospital.

As he reached the front desk, a staff worker asked him what he was looking for, and Gilbert responded with, "Lukas Bondevik."

He was given a room number and set down the hallway to the elevator, where he entered the contraption and pressed the proper floor number before the heavy metal doors clanged shut. There was a moment as he soared up the stories of the hospital that the silence enveloping him was broken by the faint tune of old elevator music. After a small while, there was a ding and the doors clattered open, revealing a new hallway. He stepped out as the doors shuttered closed and examined his surroundings. Patient rooms lined the corridor, and he found himself turning to his right and looking at the room numbers, eyes peeled for the right one.

He turned a corner and found himself at a dead end. Confused, he looked to his right, and saw that he had reached his destination.

Gilbert strolled into the room hesitantly, knocking on the side panel on the entryway, "Hey, Lukas." He called into the room.

The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity. Being fixed up felt even longer. Lukas had grown used to the dull pain that jabbed at his chest every time he inhaled, and learned that he would have to deal with it for a while longer. Ivan had easily broken a rib, which meant Lukas would be forced to sit around the hospital for the rest of the day.

He had almost fallen asleep by the time Gilbert poked his head to the room. His greeting had snapped him out of his daze, making him look up at the albino. The first thing that came across his mind was confusion. He had done nothing but be a hassle, yet Gilbert still decided on visiting him. It took him a moment before he replied.

"Hallo, Gilbert"

The room was pretty bleak and barren, even for a hospital room. Normally, people's hospital rooms were much more decorated with children's drawings, personal belongings, and even floral arrangements. Then again, Lukas had only been in the hospital for a few hours at most, and nobody but his parents had probably been there to see him yet.

Speaking of his parents, where were they? For that matter, where was anyone in his family? Gilbert knew that if he had ended up in the hospital for some stupid reason, his dad and brother would both be by his bedside scolding him for being the idiot he was. Maybe Lukas didn't really have much of a family? It was true that Gilbert knew little to nothing abut his new blonde friend, but he felt stupid not even knowing a simple thing like that.

As he walked into the room, he wandered around the side of Lukas' bed and took a seat, smiling when his greeting was returned. He paused for a moment, however, unaware of what to say. Finally, he cleared his throat and looked up hesitantly, "How 'ya holdin' up?" He asked, "You doing okay?"

He shrugged, pushing himself up into a more upright position, soon answering his two questions with a simple "I'm fine."

Multiple questions had formed in his mind, but one stood out among the rest. Why was he visiting? Surely, Gilbert Beilschmidt had plenty of things more important than visiting some injured kid he barely knew.

After a moment of awkward silence, he voiced his question, looking at the Prussian with his usual cold stare. "Why are you here?"

"I'm fine."

Those two simple words sent a wave of relief down his spine and he sighed through his nose, happy to hear the other was all right. He moved forward to help the other sit up, placing a pillow behind his back so that he could do so easier, and looked up into his blue eyes with the faintest hint of a smile.

Gilbert honestly didn't know what he was doing here. He didn't know Lukas. He had only protected him from a fate that wasn't of his worth, and now here he sat next to his hospital bed like they were old friends. In a way, they kind of were. They had gone to school with each other their entire lives, and they had been classmates since day one. There was even one time in the seventh grade where they had been science partners, but Lukas had done all the work while Gilbert pretended to flirt with the girls in their class. The very thought of his feeble attempts to be who he wasn't caused a smirk to etch across his lips.

However, these thoughts of the past all seemed to seem so much less important than the events of today. He had gone from looking for a date to homecoming, to getting punched in the face by an angry Scotsman, to getting his nose broken, to getting a date to homecoming with the perfect girl, to protecting a stranger in the face of danger ((A-HA...... Rhyming....)), to helping a broken boy to the nurse's office, to protecting the very Scotsman who'd broken his nose, to beating up a very angry Russian, to having his secret revealed, to having his other secret revealed, to sitting in a hospital room with the very stranger he had protected earlier that day.

But why?

Out of all the places on this earth, why had Gilbert come there? What drew him to the Norwegian so? Why was it that at his darkest hour, having been exposed as the weakling he was, he had gone to Lukas? Was it for hope? Help? Salvation? He honestly had no idea.

However, the albino was torn from his thoughts as Lukas spoke up, asking for Gilbert's reasonings as to why he was there. Ah, that eternal question.

"Honestly?" He asked, "I don't know. But what I can tell you... Is that I'm sorry. I should have tried to protect you more. I know how dangerous Ivan is, and I should have done more to help you. Nobody deserves to be beaten by that asshole for a reason like that..." He continued, voice faltering slightly with his final sentence. Gilbert sighed and ran a hand through his hair, averting his gaze for a moment, "It's not right.... And when you apologized to him, when you screamed.... It made me sick. I felt so guilty." He continued with a soft voice, "Just know... You're not alone, okay? You're not the only one who's gay. It's just that some of us- I mean, some people... No. Some of us... We aren't strong enough to admit it like you. I admire your strength. I really do." He continued, a bit of a strength emerging in his voice, "I wanted to thank you for being willing to stand up for who you are." Gilbert continued, "It's more than anything I've ever been able to do."

As he began to speak, apologizing and saying he should have done more, Lukas wanted to stop him. It certainly wasn't Gilbert's job to protect him. When his apology was mentioned, he averted his gaze, looking down at the tile flooring. He wasn't proud of giving in like that, but in the moment it seemed like the only thing he could do. He had hoped that perhaps Ivan would cease after the apology, deeming that he had done enough. If Aidan and Gilbert hadn't gotten there, the damage might have been much worse, because even with that desperate apology, the Russian had shown no signs of stopping.

The next few sentences Gilbert said stunned Lukas. He admired his strength? That couldn't be right, he wasn't strong. After having two people defend him from a pissed off Ivan, he couldn't consider himself strong. Then Gilbert thanked him. Thanked him. For being open about himself.

If Lukas wasn't already speechless, the next sentence to come out of the albino's mouth surely did. That last phrase confirmed it. Gilbert was gay. The Gilbert Beilschmidt, star of the fútbol team, was gay.

There was a long pause as the blonde contemplated what to say. What was he supposed to say? Gilbert had just told him something that was likely to be kept a secret from the whole school to avoid the ridicule and hate.

"I won't tell anyone. I promise." His voice had softened a little in contrast to the question he had asked before. "At least you told someone though... it's difficult to hide something like that." He paused for a moment, sighing. "It wasn't strength or bravery that compelled me to tell my friends, it was just being tired of hiding it. Though I will admit... I don't want to go back to school after that."

As Iain said that she had better be going with friends, a rather interesting idea came to mind. One that was sure to make Iain have a heart attack. She was nearly sure that Francoise and Aidan would be clever enough to catch her bluff.

"Actually, ye know tha' Russian studen', Ivan Braginski?" A smirk came across her lips, as she told her lie, knowing that she could easily fool Iain. "I'm going with him."

She withheld laughter as she awaited the Scotsman's reply, expecting some over the top yelling.